Sand Dunes
Stretched far and wide,
Are the piles of sands
The waves of wind creates
Thousands at a time and
Thus recreates another with
The strong sway, making fool
The beholder mingles one
With the other, I look for
The first one, lose the second
Third and innumerable...
Turns the number, but
None to be mine one and
Only sand dune, my footprint
Runs to be one with the other,
Gets nothing, only a whirling,
A very clear whirling of sand
Breaking one after another into
Gulleys and again into dunes.
I also turn to be a dot, in the
Sea of sand, a mere dot!
poem by Nilakshi Das
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Related quotes
Sand On My Shoes
As I sit by the sea
Drink tequila by the shade of a tree
Theres a seniorita sat on my knee
Sprinkling sand all over me
Ive got sand on my shoes
Ive lost everything that Im gonna lose
Ive got nothing but the sun and the moon
And the sand thats on the beach
I am happy though my shoes are tattered and torn
Because the sea is so shiney
Ba ba-um-ba
Ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba-um-ba
Ive got sand on my shoes
Thought I was civilized
Till I saw the sea and I realized
That the city life was just not for me
Left my troubles behind me
Ba ba-um-ba
Ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba-um-ba
Ive got sand on my shoes
Ive got nothing else that Im gonna lose
Ive got nothing but the sun and the moon
And thats plenty for me
Ive got sand on my shoes
Ive got sand on my shoes
Ive got sand on my shoes
Sand on my shoes
Ba ba ba ba-um-ba
Ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba-um-ba
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sand Castles
Sand castles on the beach,
but still far out of reach
of the encroaching waves
which wash into the caves
like an unwelcome leach.
The tide will wash it away.
Eden will passionately sway
to the rhythm of the wind.
A moment never to be rescind.
Build the castles anyway.
The sand will always be
just sand and infinitely free.
Whether we use it or not,
it will eventually come to naught,
but the memories remain with me.
poem by Suzette Crous
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Hourglass Sand
Through the hourglass
watching
grains of sand falling.
I see time slipping by.
To myself I wonder.
Do we pass with such ease
through the hourglass of life?
Like tiny grains of sand cascading?
When that sand has gone.
Does that mean time has stopped
until I turn the glass over?
And the sand again begins to fall.
Through our hourglass
as we pass like grains of sand.
How many frowns can we turn to smiles?
How much good can we make from bad?
When our sand has run out.
Has our time stopped as well?
Who will turn over our hourglass?
Restart our time renew our opportunities?
poem by Kurt Hearth
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Written In Sand
Your eyes are the color of the sea
You look my way and the waves
Wash over me
Your body shivers with the
Fading light
You say, baby, lets just make
It last tonight.
And when the morning comes
You take me by the hand
And say our love is written in sand
Written in sand
We hear the ocean roar
Were swept away on to some
Distant shore
You whisper secrets of the heart
They keep us close when the
World keeps us apart
Until tomorrow comes
Time is on our hands
Because this love is written in
Sand
Written in sand
Solo
Nothing lies between
A woman and a man
When their love is written in sand
When their love is written in sand
When their love is written in sand
song performed by by Santana
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Memories of Summers Spent
For Faizil
I remember the sand dunes of Aniston
Eastwards on the south of the Western Cape coast
The blue skies hanging over
Illuminated by the burning sun
Within the sand dunes concealed
Lies the bones of shipwrecked sailors of yesteryear
Contrast of desert and ocean
Like two dimension woven in one
Dwarfed by the sands of time
I remember how we raced to the top of the dunes
Breathless without thought
Just the absolute carefree bliss of being children
The race down was a running and a tumbling
Our summers spent camping at Arniston
When finally at the bottom, we would lay exhausted
Panting, catching our breath
poem by Persian Khushi
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Sands Of Time
It was a time gone by
a time with no goodbye
but I left you
in the sand and the wind
You gave me your hand
but I couldn't hold on
you was taken
by the winds of time
Sands of time
blowing in the wind
when will they come for me
when will they come for me
I see your soul
dancing in the sands of time
I hold out my hand
but I just feel the sand and the wind
god forgive me
I can't go on
living in a world I don't belong
see my soul flying in the night
I will find you
no matter how long
I will find you
Sands of time
blowing in the wind
when will they come for me
when will they come for me
poem by Dave Alan Walker
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0332 How were they to know?
Yes, how were they to know,
searching in the heat of forenoon dunes,
those high hills of sand
where once the forests grew,
now a rhythm of burnt sunned, cool shadowed, mock horizons,
- they, searching for the camel which had strayed -
and finding there, a man sitting still, cross-legged
in the sand upon a small strip
of faded coloured carpet,
palm of hand crossed in palm of hand,
and in the palm of his upraised right hand,
one grain of sand
and who, as they approached,
did not shift his gaze from that one grain;
and yet they sensed that he sensed them;
better let him be, he knows what he’s about,
or if he’s mad, at least he’s quietly purposeful…
how were they to know
that as he gazed, the universe he saw
in that one grain of sand then
grew inside of him? till it filled itself,
like a sand-clock, as the last grain
falls from the upper to
the lower, and all is still again
as measured time stops still
amid the sands of time?
how were they to know
as that small figure against the desert sand
his cloak still burning to the touch,
returned to the oasis, as the red-hot sun
sank below the dramatic shadow of the furthest dune,
and later, sitting by the green palms and papyrus reeds,
the camels head down, humped around the welcome pool,
one child, then many children,
then grown men, asked him their questions;
and the answers, as the night folded in
below more stars than anyone could count,
drew the circle of cross-legged silent listeners
- occasionally, urgent voiced with a lifetime’s pressing question -
as if some grain of sand became in their mind too
totality; the universe.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Pictures In The Sand
And Im gonna spend my time,
Drawing pictures in the sand for you.
And Im gonna ride the tide[? ],
And Im gonna make a rendezvous.
Sitting by the sea,
Sipping at my tea,
Drawing pictures in the sand,
And writing message to you.
Pictures in the sand (drawing pictures in the sand)
There is nothing I would rather do (there is nothing I would rather do)
Than just sit here in the sand (drawing pictures in the sand)
And think of thinks Id like to say to you (I love you true)
Every single day (every single day)
I waste my time away,
Drawing pictures in the sand,
And writing messages to you.
(all together)
Pictures in the sand. (drawing pictures in the sand)
Pictures in the sand.
If I didnt have a dime,
Would you still be loving me?
While I spend my whole life through,
Drawing pictures just for you.
But I could never draw my love,
Its so very hard to do.
Every single day,
I waste my time away,
Drawing pictures in the sand,
And writing messages to you.
Pictures in the sand. (drawing pictures in the sand)
Pictures in the sand. (do-bum, do-bum...)
Pictures in the sand. (drawing pictures in the sand)
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Deserted Island
This island is deserted
It is very hot
like the desert
with tons of sand
only theres trees
the trees sway in the breeze
like a cool wind blowing through the village
the water matches the sky here
It's clear blue
you can see everything right down to the sand
under the forever going ocean
there's coral and bright colored fish
it's as warm as
the hot sand under my feet and the summer sun
the isolation is unbelievable
it is unspeakable
the only movement is of the ocean and the trees
there is only me
this island is deserted
poem by Kristen Otto
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Love Sonnet 169 I Have Seen Sadness On The Prestine Sand
I have seen sadness on the pristine sand,
In faded footprints, you have failed to make,
More so that sands were once huge rocks, so grand,
Before this fate, that only sands could take:
To become the dunes, were dwelt my sorrow,
In dire stillness that aggravates my loss,
The craved tenderness, which you did not show,
That spawned a desert, much too wide to cross;
Though minute are the grains that slip my grasp,
Like truths that seep through a mind grief ridden,
Vicious as though rose harboring a wasp,
Thereby, in sweetness lurks its sting, hidden;
......Yet, your footprints did not last till evening,
......As blown sand covered your tracks of leaving.
.
poem by Reyvrex Questor Reyes
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Ocean Breakers
She went to water;
she always did.
The heaving ocean
matched her heavy breathing;
it was a Ocean of Tears
like hers.
The swells crash
against the shore
relentlessly;
life was relentless too.
The foam;
Anger in the Water that day.
She went to water
she always did,
moving among the sand dunes,
face against the wind.
The sea gulls overhead;
caw! caw! caw!
She lifts her arms,
the wind blows her sleeves
making a flapping sound;
she could hear whispers
between the breakers,
she could hear weeping
among the retreating waves.
She stood there
on the Edge of Forever.
There is no end to the ocean.
Every day it calls to the Sun
and makes it rise.
.
Every night it extinguishes it.
She could walk to China;
she could
and no one would know;
no one would know.
The voice said
'I thought I would find you here'
Waves crashing
more soothing now
two tracks in the sand.
Sad swells
rise again
and retreat;
time and ocean breaks
bring them back together again.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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In The Sand
Tracking
raindrops
through
the sand.
puddles
of water
remain
every
footprint
sinking
deeper.
until
they are
buried
in the
sand.
poem by Heather Burns
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That Part Of A Whole
it is a tiny part
as tiny as a grain of sand
you hardly give it
attention
you keep on saying
what is in this grain of sand
that philosophers
say contain this universe
something so tiny
yet to contain everything
and so you hold the grain of sand
against the light
and revolve it around your fingers
little finger planets
to the sun grain of sand
you cannot believe what you
felt and saw
and so you throw away that grain
of sand to the air
eating it like a big mouthed monsters
you are lost
your world dissolves
like ice
you turn to air
and there you are
gone.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Grain....
when life one dark night says
that it is tasteless and so bland like the air
the leaves of the mahogany trees hear it
and the following morning confide it with the
sea breeze
who tells it all to the sands who spread same story
to the waves of the shores
who deliver it to every desert in the sand
who keep all these in the heart of their
sacred solitude
and the wisdom stops in there
every dry sand of the desert
thrives upon this story
and sleeps so soundly.
'it is a fact and we are not surprised' the grain
of sand so proudly tell the others.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sand Storm
We make our way along Bournemouth prom,
To a favourite pub of ours, for a lazy late lunch.
But long before we ever make it that far along,
Our mouths fill with sand, on which we crunch.
The sand from the beach is being blown by the wind.
We watch it as we walk along the almost endless prom.
Despite having to battle through the gusting gale,
It’s quite a novelty to see the sand being blown along.
The fine granules form ever moving designs.
Many an interesting pattern the sand makes.
As it’s perpetually blown this way and that,
It twists and turns and twirls, just like snakes.
The sand has collected in patches here and there,
And some of them really are pretty deep.
Rather than walking along the tarmac prom,
We could almost be walking along the actual beach!
As I walk through the large patches of sand,
The granules collect in both of my shoes.
But I walk through patch after patch en route:
I don’t mind, as, me, it does quite amuse.
The wind whips the sand up into a frenzy.
It’s in my mouth, my eyes and in my hair.
Sand is being blown all over the place.
In fact, it seems to be almost everywhere!
I happen to place my hand on the back of my neck,
And I can feel sand there, just below my head.
The next morning, when I get up and look,
There are grains of sand near the foot of my bed!
It was really nice to have a small reminder
Of our very enjoyable, but tiring, day out.
I do so love going down to Bournemouth.
We’ll be back there soon without a doubt!
poem by Angela Wybrow
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The Truth About Us
'I feel an
indescribable ecstasy
and delirium
in melting,
as it were,
into the system of beings,
in identifying myself
with the whole of nature.'
Jean-Jacques Rousseau (1712-1778)
i am not alone
for i am a part
to every grain of sand
to every sand
in dunes
to every particle
in the wind
to every molecule
of water
to every atom
of your being
how can you
deny such truth
in us?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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How spiny the cactus raised itself
how spiny the cactus raised itself
into the desert
how red the sand
burnt under the mid-day sun
how scorched the scorpion moved
across the red sand
and in that silence
a sudden whirlwind blows
a red, red cloud of sand
from the dunes rises
how spiny the cactus raised itself
into the tempest:
and yet
and yet
the tempest was subdued and fell
as happened long ago and now
and still
and spiny the cactus raises itself
into the desert
and the red sand
burns under the mid-day sun
poem by Emmanuel George Cefai
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The Sea(1994-1995)
The sea, the sea: calling out to you and me
Waves rush in to caress the sand
Only to roll out again
The sea, the sea: calmness in its water
But in one fowl swoop
The calm has turned sour
The sea, the sea: breezes clear as day
Salty air meets our lips
Longer, will we stay?
The sea, the sea: soft sand beneath our feet
Breeze cooling our hot hands
One look at your eyes and I Know
The sea, the sea: our ally and friend
The seascape drawing us in
In triumph, two sweethearts together
Creating Minstrels in the sand.
poem by Lillian B. Rose
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Flux
Sand of the sea runs red
Where the sunset reaches and quivers.
Sand of the sea runs yellow
Where the moon slants and wavers.
poem by Carl Sandburg
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GRAINS of SAND
Grains of sand
on which I stand
burn my feet
from the sun's intense heat.
I bury them quickly
to keep them cool.
The grains of sand
can be too cruel.
And now I know
I played the fool
for I left my sandals
where it was cool.
Afraid to move,
I see a child.
I call to him
as if I'm wild.
'My shoes, my shoes
please bring them here.'
He looks and waves,
then disappears.
And so I stay
and face the day
stuck in grains of sand.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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