Exploring Those Adventures
I have not witnessed the Scottish Pine,
With branches crooked as those
Of the Oak or Maple trees.
Or the bark of Birch,
Like that of the Palm.
I am not mesmerized,
By ripples made on a Pond.
As much as I am by waves...
During low and/or high tides.
Sand Dunes of Cape Cod,
Are striking when first seen.
Although the beaches,
Sweep breezes across the waters...
Much like they do on South Padre Island,
And Key West!
While watching the flight of Seagulls...
Fish then come to rest.
Fisherman's Wharf in San Francisco.
The color of the Golden Gate Bridge.
The blue sky above the floating pink clouds,
In the early morning sunrise...
Lifting after dawn!
Hearing the clang of trolley cars.
Climbing steep hills,
In clean crisp air!
I often feel it...
As if I'm still there.
The sunsets I like the best,
Seem to be those in San Antonio!
And yet...
When I am at home,
Reminiscing times I miss...
As I witness the snowflakes drift,
From my bedroom window...
Alone in Connecticut.
I select from memories I cherish,
With you and me...
Happy to be together.
Exploring those adventures...
As our eyes close to kiss,
Each other's lips!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Beaches
South Padre Island,
Ranks among the best.
South Beach,
And those along Key West...
Are favorite beaches,
I am blessed to have witnessed.
Long Beach and along the Pacific Coast...
Breathtaking are these scenic views,
With a temptation to remove one's shoes!
And the cruiseway connecting Tampa and Clearwater...
Ought to be outlawed for providing too much beauty!
And Ogunquit needs to stop it!
It's magnificence really is an eye popper!
Cape Cod and Pebble Beach.
I've tossed and turned...
Thinking about them in my sleep!
These beaches that grace our wonderful shores...
Should be visited for their exquisiteness.
If anyone believes,
Their lives are boring beyond their doors.
There is so much to explore and see.
Just sitting quietly on these beaches...
And letting one's imagination stretch and reach!
Like the cresting of the waves...
Massaging the sands.
As Seagulls dip for fish,
While the lilting fingers felt from breezes...
Display a coolness beneath Sun rays,
Quickly drying ocean mist!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Wonder Atop the Dunes
Will your Summer breeze,
Captivate my thoughts on Fall.
When the air is thick,
And hot with sticky humidity?
Will my Autumn wishes,
Be of those you select and pick?
I like to sit atop the dunes,
At Cape Cod and Padre Island.
I am closer to my thoughts.
When the seagulls and waves,
Exchange as nature wishes.
With sounds that attract,
My need to be distracted.
Then I make eye contact with it.
Pulling me in like a magnet!
And I see you...
This attractive distraction.
Relaxing to instigate,
My delusions of being laid...
On Labor Day.
And throughout the festivities of the holidays.
Will your Summer breeze,
Captivate my thoughts on Fall.
When the air is thick,
And hot with sticky humidity.
Will my Autumn wishes,
Be of those you select and pick?
And we discover a great happiness.
Will we be sharing Thanksgiving?
Or comfortable enough to be sitting...
Under the Christmas Tree butt naked.
And exchanging gifts with kisses?
To sweat if we let it get done.
Near the grate of the fireplace.
To quietly lay to hear 'carols' we hum.
I like to sit atop the dunes,
At Cape Cod and Padre Island.
I am closer to my thoughts.
When the seagulls and waves,
Exchange as nature wishes.
With sounds that attract,
My need to be distracted.
And I am...
When I think of how we met.
And I am...
Full of regret,
I did not extend to you an invitation.
Will your Summer breeze,
Captivate my thoughts on Fall...
Again?
Will your Summer breeze,
Captivate my thoughts on Fall...
Again?
But,
When again?
I wonder atop the dunes.
When will this move I make?
I wonder atop the dunes.
Will I be perceived as a faker?
I wonder atop the dunes.
Will I share this escape?
I wonder atop the dunes.
Could mistakes be made to make up?
I wonder atop the dunes.
When will this move I make?
I wonder atop the dunes.
Will I be perceived as a faker?
I wonder atop the dunes.
Will I share this escape?
I wonder atop the dunes.
Could mistakes be made to make up?
I wonder atop the dunes.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Noon Song
There are songs for the morning and songs for the night,
For sunrise and sunset, the stars and the moon;
But who will give praise to the fulness of light,
And sing us a song of the glory of noon?
Oh, the high noon, the clear noon,
The noon with golden crest;
When the blue sky burns, and the great sun turns
With his face to the way of the west!
How swiftly he rose in the dawn of his strength;
How slowly he crept as the morning wore by;
Ah, steep was the climbing that led him at length
To the height of his throne in the wide summer sky.
Oh, the long toil, the slow toil,
The toil that may not rest,
Till the sun looks down from his journey's crown,
To the wonderful way of the west!
Then a quietness falls over meadow and hill,
The wings of the wind in the forest are furled,
The river runs softly, the birds are all still,
The workers are resting all over the world.
Oh, the good hour, the kind hour,
The hour that calms the breast!
Little inn half-way on the road of the day,
Where it follows the turn to the west!
There's a plentiful feast in the maple-tree shade,
The lilt of a song to an old-fashioned tune,
The talk of a friend, or the kiss of a maid,
To sweeten the cup that we drink to the noon.
Oh, the deep noon, the full noon,
Of all the day the best!
When the blue sky burns, and the great sun turns
To his home by the way of the west.
poem by Henry Van Dyke
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Dreams to Nightmares
I stare at the wall and close my eyes
I started to dream about parts of the world
Beaches to oceans to schools of fish
My dreams turn to nightmares after awhile
The cool, damp beach where sand comes to rest
The emptiness in the pastel blue sky
The sand placed perfectly in place
The smell of salt water against the shore
The crystal clear ocean calm as can be
The current not even moving sea life
Fish eating at the bottom by the sand
The sound of calm waves hitting the shore
The colorful fish ranging from green to blue
Fish from all different sizes
The sound of fish jumping out of the ocean
They swim without a government to follow
The beaches turn to cemeteries
The oceans turn dark gray, and fish floating dead
The sky black as can be with flashes of light
You wake up realizing life is so much different
poem by Kasondra Sytnik
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The Changing Light
The changing light
at San Francisco
is none of your East Coast light
none of your
pearly light of Paris
The light of San Francisco
is a sea light
an island light
And the light of fog
blanketing the hills
drifting in at night
through the Golden Gate
to lie on the city at dawn
And then the halcyon late mornings
after the fog burns off
and the sun paints white houses
with the sea light of Greece
with sharp clean shadows
making the town look like
it had just been painted
But the wind comes up at four o'clock
s weeping the hills
And then the veil of light of early evening
And then another scrim
when the new night fog
floats in
And in that vale of light
the city drifts
anchorless upon the ocean
poem by Lawrence Ferlinghetti
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I Left My Heart In San Francisco
The loveliness of Paris seems somehow sadly gay
The glory that was Rome is of another day
I've been terribly alone and forgotten in Manhattan
I'm going home to my city by the Bay
I left my heart in San Francisco
High on a hill, it calls to me
To be where little cable cars climb halfway to the stars
The morning fog may chill the air, I don't care
My love waits there in San Francisco
Above the blue and windy sea
When I come home to you, San Francisco
Your golden sun will shine for me
song performed by by Westlife
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Vision Of Doom...
you look at the world
while riding a taxi
above the bridge that connects
two cities
a canvass of blue sea
white clouds drifting
seagulls crossing the horizon
blue ships floating
tiny houses along the boulevard
cars moving like ants
upon a line of path
you are amazed by so much beauty
man-made though
slowly the compassion arises
from the stares of your eyes
for soon
who knows that this is your last glimpse
of this city
beauty swallowed by waves
as islands sink to the bottom of the
the blue ocean
and the sounds of people like you
finally gone.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Grace Sufficient
Golden fields praise the morning sun
Dreams rise in the cool calm day
Autumn winds blow crisp dried leaves
Blue sky shines and clouds play
November courts my imagination
Walk by the wise river flowing in light
Geese flock for their long journey south
Beauty amongst birch, oak and pine
The frosty glaze of night has melted
Many sea gulls still fish and feed
Green grass thrives on a sunny day
I walk in quiet with thoughts deep
Lately my dreams wake me with tears
So many people lonely and in pain
I miss so many friends that have left
Sometimes it all seems so vain
Why am I still here, my family gone?
Maybe God doesn't want to tell me?
Maybe the plan is revealed in living?
This bright morning shines with joy free
I look up, I know his grace is sufficient
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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Philippines Forevermore
gentle feather flown in the sky
with the clouds unwavering blue capture
the wind that brings rain for fertility,
waiting to be bless the blooming flowers
of varied color grow in harmony
pacific wave turn the tide to grow
and the golden Stella’s shining play in
the paddling pebbles of the current sea,
bless comes the rich schools of fish as the
watching eyes of the flocks of seagull
honestly desire to dive in the temple of the
breezing wind as it flee, the surfing fishes
wander as it goes for sweet home von,
and farewell again
pleasure have witness the golden horizon
glow of the morning sun, forwarding poise
of the land of the Orient sea, forevermore
Philippines will be Free ….
poem by Antonio Liao
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Sorrow Rebirth Thinks Of Beauty
a huge knowledge of sorrow
must always think of beauty
memories running over themselves
are fires burning tortured souls
rebirth is born in rhythm ocean waves
wavelets are tender finger ripples
stroking skin of land shorelines
strong fingers massage knotted rocks
rubbing down into sand heartaches
baked on long hot wave eroded days
summarize ebb flow coastal beaches
beauty haunts all tidal manifestations
wind wave bird song sing salt choruses
each sunrise sunset paint shades of skies
beauty awaits in promise discoveries
washed up upon shore is storm sorrow
but in waste wake awaits hope tomorrow
tides clean sweep sand tide moon margins
search out treasures in childhood memories
sea calls in every salted shell rejoice hearts
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Moon Shadows
Moon shadows drift across
my bedroom window cill at night
just as the sandman sprinkles
his stardust dreams around my head.
I spiral into loving dreams
with you within my arms.
The moon shadows play
across my window
while I am deep in dreams
that sends me to exotic places
with you always at my arm.
We run along sandy beaches
where the palm trees grow.
The island of my dreams
that always comes to me
when the moon shadows show.
2 December 2009
poem by David Harris
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Islands
Earth, stream and tree encircled by sea
Waves sweep the sand from my island.
My sunsets fade.
Field and glade wait only for rain
Grain after grain love erodes my
High weathered walls which fend off the tide
Cradle the wind
To my island.
Gaunt granite climbs where gulls wheel and glide
Mournfully glide oer my island.
My dawn brides veil, damp and pale,
Dissolves in the sun.
Loves web is spun - cats prowl, mice run
Wreathe snatch-hand briars where owls know my eyes
Violet skies
Touch my island,
Touch me.
Beneath the wind turned wave
Infinite peace
Islands join hands
neathe heavens sea.
Dark harbour quays like fingers of stone
Hungrily reach from my island.
Clutch sailors words - pearls and gourds
Are strewn on my shore.
Equal in love, bound in circles.
Earth, stream and tree return to the sea
Waves sweep sand from my island,
From me.
song performed by by King Crimson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Here to Bark You
I'm here to bark you.
With a not too thick protecterate.
Enclosing you to allow you growth.
To allow your branches,
To reach with leaves.
I've done the pines,
With their needles to prick.
I've done the birch,
To have them stand out...
For an easy search.
The oak and maple were not difficult for me.
The redwoods were the ones,
To reach as high as the eye could see!
Towers and the tallest on Earth,
They chose to be!
I'm here to bark you.
With a not too thick protecterate.
Enclosing you to allow you growth.
To allow your branches,
To reach with leaves.
I'm here to bark you...
Trees, woody vines and shrubs.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A wold made of pink
It's just a new obsession
A color which makes me go insane
Pink is not any kind of fiction
Pink always helps me gain
Faith, confidence and everything I need
Trust, joy and a bit of laughter
This color helps me succeed
Pink is the color of my eyes
Only when I look at you
Pink makes me an angel in disguise
It's the color which brings joy to me and my crew
Pink is a color so mighty, so great
Pink is the color my face
Turns when I'm late
Pink is the color which nothing can replace
It's the color which I can't stop thinking of
Neither day nor night
Pink symbolizes my love
Pink is the color of the light
Which shines in my heart for you
It's the color of a wonderland
This color shouldn't be withdrew
It's the color of my imaginary sand
Pink is the color my cat wants to be
Pink is the color of the sun which shines
Pink is the color the world can see
Pink is the color which gives me signs
poem by Mia Peterson
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My Father He Was A Fisherman
MY father he was a fisherman,
That wrought at the break o' day,
And hither and thither the long tides ran
I' the long blue bay.
'The tides go up and the tides go down,
But what do you know of the sea ?'
Her voice, i' the long gray streets o' the town,
Is singing to me.
'What do you know of the sails at dawn,
What of the shell-white foam ?'
Cheerly and sweet, from a world withdrawn,
They are calling me home.
'What is the grief you fain would tell
When your eyes are turned on me ?'
O, well it was taught and I learned it well,–
The grief o' the sea.
'Where do you travel and where do you sleep,
Where shall you take your rest ?'
At the inn that shelters my father, deep
I' the seas o' the west.
poem by Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
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Child of the Dawn
In the small hours of the morning, I sat alone, outside
on a bench that smelled of wood and the old women
that sat there Sunday afternoons to watch the children
playing at the park. I ran my hand against
the smooth wood, a splinter lodging itself into my palm.
I winced and looked into the trees at just the right
instant. The sun was rising behind the branches
like a fish rising through seaweed. Hesitant.
As if afraid of what the water will do to it.
My friend broke into a smile as it was greeted by the pink
and soft orange sky around it, soon giving way to perfect blue.
A pure, motionless blue that went on forever, never
faltering, never ashamed to be the 'sad color'
that was simply a mistake of the People. It knew itself
to mean happiness and beauty. The beauty of the world.
The day dragged on, but it was a nice blue sky day
as the Child of the Dawn traveled across it.
poem by Zoe Guillory
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Pink Pearl Necklace
Pink Pearl Necklace; and heaven is this,
My island an afterthought mornings glow
and pink sands where coral waves grow.
Happy are the clams every night as pink
sand washes them in your dreams.
Under water so clear I sometimes forget
and stay to long listening to the waves
sing your pink song.
Drifting with the currents of sleep pearls of
yours pink, slip out from beneath my hand.
Filaments permeate the strings of your
dreams leaving me behind on a pink pearl
necklace on this island yours made of dreams.
poem by Is It Poetry
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Perfectly Displayed
A dusting of white, like icing sugar, coats the dry cold ground.
Such crisp, sharp layers of frost, which as yet the sun’s not found.
So fresh and clean, an early sparkling welcome to the day,
Along with bracing breezes that bring shivers into play.
Whistling through stripped branches, of all the autumn’s trees,
Standing so tall and motionless, to greet the coming freeze.
One fairytale sketched landscape, a feast to meet the eyes,
As dawn’s inhabitants creep forth, with their enchanting cries,
Something stirs within one’s core, so beautiful this scene,
Perfectly displayed each morning, with the winter’s evergreen.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Song To A Seagull
Fly silly seabird
No dreams can possess you
No voices can blame you
For sun on your wings
My gentle relations
Have names they must call me
For loving the freedom
Of all flying things
My dreams with the seagulls fly
Out of reach out of cry
I came to the city
And lived like old crusoe
On an island of noise
In a cobblestone sea
And the beaches were concrete
And the stars paid a light bill
And the blossoms hung false
On their store window trees
My dreams with the seagulls fly
Out of reach out of cry
Out of the city
And down to the seaside
To sun on my shoulders
And wind in my hair
But sandcastles crumble
And hunger is human
And humans are hungry
For worlds they cant share
My dreams with the seagulls fly
Out of reach out of cry
I call to a seagull
Who dives to the waters
And catches his silver-fine
Dinner alone
Crying where are the footprints
That danced on these beaches
And the hands that cast wishes
That sunk like a stone
My dreams with the seagulls fly
Out of reach out of cry
song performed by by Joni Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pink Pearl Necklace.
Pink Pearl Necklace; and heaven is this.
My island an afterthought mornings glow,
and pink sands there coral waves grow.
Happy are the oysters every night as pink
sand washes over them in your dreams.
Under water so clear I sometimes forget
and stay to long listening to the waves as
they sing your pink song.
Drifting with the currents of sleep pearls of
yours pink, slip off from beneath your neck.
Filaments permeate the strings of your
dreams leaving me behind on a pink pearl
necklace on this island you float on made of dreams.
poem by Is It Poetry
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