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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Footprints
Footprints in the sand
As deep as they might be
Will someday be washed away
By the wind or by the sea.
The footprints have been placed
Upon the beaches sand
In memory of a creature
Proclaiming Himself as Man.
I followed this set of footprints
Placed upon the beaches Earth
To find out where Man had gone to,
And to find out His Earthly worth.
Many of the footprints were deep,
Placed upon the beaches sand,
From the troubles that Man had kept
With memories held in His hand.
And the footprints, that were placed wide
They were many upon the beach,
Were they from the trouble that Man did hide,
Or was it from happiness, that was out of reach.
And then as I noticed in front of me
The footprints were swept away,
Man again was forgotten
Until He returned another day.
Then I looked behind me,
I saw my footprints in the sand
And I know someone will follow them
While wondering, who was this Man.
Had my footprints been placed deep,
Or were they placed apart very wide,
Will they wondered if I ever laughed,
Or if I cried, from sorrows I couldn't hide.
So I closed my eyes and I wondered
About the footprints that I had placed
Someday, will Man He follow them,
While believing my life a waste.
So I continued my walk upon the beach,
I was a very joyful and happy Man,
I left my sorrow and trouble behind me,
In my footprints in the sand.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Trenches of Melancholy
Your loss,
Has left me,
In infinite sadness;
As my grains of sand are displaced, grain by grain;
By your horizon-bound tide;
As the sand castles,
That were built deep within,
The walls of my temple,
Are now fragile to the torrents of your brine;
As I gather on abyssal depths;
Scattered on the ocean floor;
Far from your graceful self waltzing below the heavens;
A fateful journey of divergent destinies;
As sand castles part pristine white sands;
To embrace trenches of melancholy.
Oh the fragility of love!
poem by Dilantha Gunawardana
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The Sands of Tıme
Yesterday.!
I returned to
the beach,
once again
to gather
memories
looking for
a dream.
happy
moments
were spent
there,
moments to
be cherished.
gathering
shells for
our
collections,
whispered
secrets,
laughing
leaving
footprints
in the sand.
Today.!
as I wander
back
only one
set of
footprints
remain.
the other
lost
forever
in the
sands
of time.
poem by Heather Burns
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Footprints
FOOTPRINTS
In the journey of my life's ups and downs
You accompany me and guide me
With my burdened heart
I see your footprints left in the sand
The footprints you leave behind
Encourage me to go on
My prayers flow like tears
Watching your presence left in the sand
And your care imprinted in my heart
I know you have carried me
My footprints I cannot see
You want me to be happy, fulfilled and free
To complete the works you have begun on me.
poem by Meggie Gultiano
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Footprints In The Sand
I see the footprints in the sand
walking towards the sunset plumes.
I visualise in my mind
two lovers walking hand in hand
at the closing of another day
and wonder what their thoughts were
as they passed along this way.
Had they ventured here
for a moonlight swim
beneath the silence
that engulfs us all?
Did they listen to that final reverie
as the sun faded away
and will they be back again
at the end of another day
to leave their footprints in the sand.
These are only questions
that only they can answer.
poem by David Harris
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Footprints In The Sand
We are but pilgrims
traveling on this
journey
Leaving positive
footprints, in the
sands of time
The tide sweeps in
washing them to sea
again
but we must main-
tain
steady
through the floods
of time
When our journey has
ended
someday, we will
stand
before the master
planner
give account for our
footprints
left in the sands of
time.
poem by Heather Burns
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Footprints in the sand
One night I dreamed I was walking
Along the beach with the Lord,
Many scenes from my life flashed across the sky.
In each scene I noticed footprints in the sand.
Sometimes there were two sets of footprints.
Other times there was only one.
This bothered me because I noticed
During the low periods of my life when I was
Suffering from anguish, sorrow or defeat,
I could see only one set of footprints.
So I said to the Lord, “You promised me,
Lord, that if I followed you,
You would walk with me always.
But I noticed during the most trying periods
Of my life there has only been
One set of prints in the sand.
Why, when I needed you most,
Have you not been there for me?
The Lord replied,
“The times when you have seen only one set of footprints
It was then that I carried you.”
poem by Katie Evans
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The Murmur Of The Sea
you look for a company
it is a strange land
the sands there do not have footprints
it is what you like
uninhabited landscape
rocks with small crabs
huge eyes
it is the sea that murmurs
you have been
junked.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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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In The Footprints of My Mother
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall step to you.
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall stay innocent and true.
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall not give up hope.
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall give you my love note.
In the footprints of my mother,
Lead me to a better path.
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall releive in her wrath.
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall cure all of your pains.
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall bring you great reigns.
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall unleash the angels of truth.
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall defeat the evils booth.
The footprints of my mother,
led me straight to you.
The footprints of my mother,
Shown me I have nothing left to loose.
The footprints of my mother,
Guieded me towards the compelling lights.
The footprints of my mother,
Guided me towards the love of my life.
poem by Erin Grantham
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The State Of Non-meaning
so many sands
long term plans
so many grains of sands
on the beach on the mind of man
oh, i guess
so many poems composed
each poem has become a grain of sands
so many grains
from my mouth
to my hands to my feet to the beach to the sands of time
in search for meaning
when actually there is none.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Ghosttown
When the night falls
I lay my head on shallow ground
Covered by the sand of desert dunes,
I will be found
Write your name with fingers in the sand
And its blown away by sandstorms
And
Im gonna leave this ghosttown
Im leaving, leaving, leaving this ghosttown
Im gonna leave it on its own
Lost souls on dead ground
And all the memories
That come at night
And steel my sleep
The neverending game
Of love and pain
Im in too deep
Rattlesnakes draw circles in the dust
And while I watch them I realize I must
Leave this ghosttown
song performed by by Fury In The Slaughterhouse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Self-searching
we always want to spend
Independence Day on the beach
what is it that we want to be reminded of?
the sands? yes what about the sand?
the grains?
when we arrive there
the kids run to meet the sea with laughter
the sea breeze is salty yet cool
the trees are tall and big and shady
the silent sands are peopled now
we will be too busy with fun
feeling saved and going public with
all that happiness gives us
the silent sands look at us with a gaze
it has a record of the past
it has absorbed the memories of the sea
it looks at us with pity
what is it about the sands and their silence?
i think i know it but my friend you must find it yourself.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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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A Rose To Remember....
i am reading about the death of a rose
i am reflecting about
death of freedom
it is all about a rose, a wilting rose, a brown rose,
a dry rose
each petal falling softly on the ground
a dry ground full of sand and pebbles
all footprints covered
abandoned, i am talking
about the death of a rose, the death of the freedom of the rose
the death of freedom, the rose of death, the freedom of death,
is it you now that i talk about? that i must remember?
have i met you before when i was but a thorn, a worm, a leaf?
was i the sand
a pebble, the wind? will you be a rose forever?
is there death in you?
i feel the wind, i smell the rose,
there is no death....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Ebb Tide
it is late now
very late dusk's
darkness has
already fallen
dark rimmed sunset
disappear last glow
dissipate be gone
fade away
this night is silk warm
flesh is sun kiss warm
breeze soft caress warm
waves wash out
footprints softly splash
suck in sink sand
feet grow cool
sunken treasure sands
slowly shape mould
harmonic planes
miniature waves wisps
whisper gliding in
shallows on seabreeze
washing out ripples
migrating miniature waves
single summer’s seascape
sifting sands
blown skip briskly
sting the windward
inward spirit eye
the night is warm
flesh is warm
breeze is warm
soul is warm
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Invention
Finally I found myself.
This book of life
had never been the same.
Who had invented God
from the pilfered version?
I say my prayers aggrieved.
Again solitude murmurs.
This twisted world
indulging in phallic worship.
The huge torch in your hand
lights the ugly feet
leaving footprints on dignity.
Blood bath of humming-birds
on the sand dunes of silence.
Children are frightened.
Hungrily I follow the scent.
poem by Satish Verma
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Questions to Desert Wind…
You wonder,
Did the desert wind already forgotten to past?
No dearest, it has always blown so gently…
Crafting this dry open desert,
Shifting mystical sand dunes,
Bringing precious droplets to a thirsty bird,
To comfort her broken heart!
You further asked,
O desert wind…
Why erased my written message in the sand?
So let it be a permanent secret,
Cause I have already engraved it in my heart.
poem by Desert Life
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Summerday Sands
I once met a girl with the life in her hands
And we lay together on the summerday sands.
I gave her my raincoat and told her, ''lady, be good!
And we made truth together, where no one else would.
I smiled through her fingers and ran the dust through her hands ---
The hour-glass of reason on the summerday sands.
We sat as the sea caught fire.
Waited as the flames grew higher
In her eyes.
We watched the eagle born ---
Wings clipped, tail feathers shorn
But we saw him rise ---
Over summerday sands.
Came the ten oclock curfew.
She said, ''i must start my car.
Im staying with someone I met last night in a bar.
I called from my wave top ---
''at least tell me your name!
She smiled from her wheelspin
And said, ''its all the same.
I thought for a minute, jumped back on dry land ---
Left one set of footprints on the summerday sands.
I once met a girl with the life in her hands
And we lied together on the summerday sands.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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