Related quotes: This is where they sat...

Where They Sat

This is where they sat
and watched the sea
and incoming tide.
Now he has gone.

The waves still come
in and go out regardless.
The sunset brings memories.
The way the sun sits on

the horizon like a Buddha
clothed in a red gown.
He held her hand on
these sands. They kissed

beneath that sun the warmth
like an embrace. It was
here that he spoke of love
and their future and the house

and maybe their children
running in and out of the garden
on summer days. She holds
a handful of sand. Squeezes

between fingers. Gulls fly overhead
making an awful din. If she
closes her eyes she can imagine
him still there. Almost smell

his presence. She sniffs the air.
Sea salt and after sun lotion.
His body shining with sweat
after making love up there

by the rocks. Children and
parents and others enjoy
the sea and beach nearby.
He said so many things.

They are still in the air.
The words about her head
like invisible birds. Then came
the suicide. The final note.

Out at sea some one waves
To her from a small white boat.

poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Related quotes

In My Wild Flights Of Fancy The Ocean I Can See

The blueness of the saltwater the white waves rolling free
In my wild flights of fancy the ocean i can see
The silver gulls and black backed gulls above the white beach cry
And the sun is shining brightly in the clear and sunny sky,
The children in the shallows they laugh and splash and run
In the coolness of sea water their way of having fun
On a pleasant day in Summer of 25 degrees
And there is a soothing freshness in the freshening ocean breeze,
The distinctive smell of the seaweed washed in by the last tide
A refuge from beach predators for tiny sea things to breed in and hide
Coastal people love the ocean and near the ocean they choose to stay
And in the coastal cemeteries their last remains do lay
The rumble of the ocean the white waves running free
And in my flights of fancy the sea is calling me.

poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Lost At Sea.

You remember now the sound of the sea,
The crashing of waves, the white and grey
Gulls in the sky. Mother said, don’t go too
Far out; keep an eye on the young ones.
The cold water made you hop about when
It first went over your bare feet. You knew
Where the young ones were, you could see
Them there at the water’s edge running in
And out as the cold water chased them.
The beach was crowded; the crowds seemed
To occupy each area with their deckchairs,
Windbreakers and towels spread on the sand.
The bright sun shone down heavily; the air
Was still. And Mother’s voice loudly shouting,
Where’s Baba? Where’s she gone? And the
Place she was with the others was without
Her presence now; the panic gripped you.
Your eyes scanned the beach and sea; you ran
Along the beach near the water’s edge gazing
Out at the wide expanse of ocean, ignoring the
Passing ships on the horizon, the sailing boats,
The far out swimmers, just looking for Baba,
Your eyes searching each face, each child, every
Little one running on the beach or out at sea out
Of reach. Mother came running down the beach
Towards you, her face red with effort, her mouth
Screaming out words carried off by the other
Sounds and the sea’s call, pointing out at ocean’s
Hold as a man came up and out of the waves,
Water dripping, eyes wide, and in his arms, Baba
Limp and her swaying head, hair hanging wet,
Seeming lost to you, small arms swinging, dead.

poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Sea

The roaring sea
on a summer afternoon
the sun burning brightly
upon the desert dunes;
the shimmering waves and heat
of the burning sand under the feet;
the increasing humidity in
the air, the dripping sweat
on the sun burnt skin.
The ebb and flow
of waves brings crabs, shells
and carcass of small birds or so;
at their return, destroys the small
sand castles of children though.
In this sea of life
with no defined shore, torn between modern life
and goals, quest for
unending desires and ambitions
burdening the hearts and souls replete
with never ending situations.
The ground under the feet
seems shaken,
depression and loneliness
are eternally taken
We, being victims of answerless
destiny and fate,
what holds for us being hidden,
beams of hope appear straight
beyond the horizon.

poem by Rizvana Parveen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

To Beach or Not To Beach

The beach, for some a burst of bravado,
for others a bath of brilliance.

Sand-coated with lotion and encompassed with cellulite,
I enviously gaze around me.
Bikini bronzed bodies swarm the beach,
while children are amused with sand-castles and beach balls.

Invading music blares from the neighbouring umbrellas,
and with a headache developing,
I cringingly approach the waves.

Mulitcoloured surfboards ride the towering waves,
and currently joined by eager faces,
we duck and dive in time to each wave.

For a cure to the killer salt in one’s mouth.,
I recommend the common beach ice cream
and armed with my overflowing towel,
I retreat for the day.

A fiery sunset is the perfect ending for any beach experience.
as footprints are imprinted on the moist sea sand,
some will experience feelings of tranquil peace,
Others, feelings of physical pain…

poem by Margaret Purslow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

A Walk On The Beach

At your side, I will stand, together we'll walk, through the sand. With the setting sun, and a summer breeze, reflecting our love, on the open seas. A walk on the beach, I will share, hand in hand, we walk with care. Making our hearts, strong and brave, along with the passions, of thee ocean waves. Together in love, our souls will teach, and guide our future, as we walk on the beach. For I am in love...

poem by William Breland
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

I Opened The Casements Of My House

I opened the casements of my house
Onto the wild, wild sea
The billows were on it austere and free
The sea-wind with every house-corner neighed
And with the bending palms in the garden played
At dice or in the games of life at will
And still the casements opened and opened
As if by magic trance or guided else
By a thousand small invisible goblin-hands
That from the sea-main seemed to fly and come
Over the billows austere and free
As the sea-wind with every house-corner neighed
And with the bending palms in the garden played
Beyond, beyond the vista low and large
A plain of beach sand lapped by the waves
And here and there an oasis of sweet palms
That bent their olive heads in the winds’ waffling
And coming and going over the sea.
Where the white billows raged saliva-like
Or like bent god-thrones cool and flexible
In that long windy plain, in that salt sea
Upon the which my magic casements opened
That day, that long and windy day of life
The sea-wind with every house-corner neighed
And with the bending palms in the garden played
And that was long ago, not days or months,
But years, whole years and now my hair
Is turning fast to white and my breath shorter goes
Than it was then that long and windy day
The sea-cliff raged all white like the salt sea
And hid unseen the waves in the inlet small
All hidden from the eyes of curious men
Waxed green and green – ah! it is so to-day
And still
Long windy days come oft and come as go:
And the sea-wind with every house-corners neighs
And with the bending palms in the garden plays.

poem by Emmanuel George Cefai
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Ships Passing In Night Born

ships are sailing upon turn tide flowing river waters
light is dance happy mellow yellows closing long day
soon sunset will add flame reds fingers yellow gold
sun sets sinks into still sea upon horizon home shores
dust light fades shadows creep in stealth murky images
suddenly black dawns night deep darkness speaks in glory

starlight sparkles upon enchanted waters river ebbs flows
passage across bar out into ocean waves rocks emotions
soon short journeys made upon ocean waters salts senses
watch shoreline beach grey sands invisible stretch wet away
waters dark painted ocean oil black sparkles in flow waves
beach sands perfume night with residue heat breeze vapours

poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Acting

we may pretend
sometimes that i am this handsome guy
and you are this beautiful woman

we go to the beach
i am wearing my white speedo
and you are in your red bikini
a two-piece suit
we imagine we stroll the beach one fine day
holding hands
and then we sit on the white sand
your head in the embrace of my strong arms
i encircle your body and i look to the blue horizon
and dissolve my thoughts

you smile
& you close your eyes and feel the joy of loving
we imagine
there is only the two of us in this island of desire
we kiss and we hold each other tight

we feel so close
and we make love under the moon
i feel your heart beating inside my heart
and i say i love you and you say you love me too

we imagine a lot and
try this fantasy for once

sometimes i ask: why don't we make it true?
these feelings inside us may burst
soon i tell you

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Hurricane Watch

Green. Green the leaves,
and waves gray on the forehead of the beach.

As easy as breeze tensing lengths of hair
waves lift, then snap back like springs.
Trees bend and kneel, fling out brown arms
to catch their running children.

Green. Green the leaves, and wind
pours on the forehead of the beach.

See how sand wrinkles in the lee,
and anchors part like lovers
from invisible chains. Ships break
then run their length to freedom.

Green. Green the weeds,
and sea foams on the forehead of the beach.

Women’s names swim to greet the waves.
And sea sings, “Eve. Eve. Eve.” Mermaid
who set her cap for them, she beckons each
figurehead to her pale and smiling reach.

Green. Green the waves,
and spray glistening on the forehead of the beach.

Her arms catch and embrace hulls like shoulders.
Bold as dolphins they leap to her lips before she
slaps away the face of any sailor so foolish.

Gray. Gray the waves, and flotsam
in pieces grinding on the wet stones of the beach.

poem by Val Morehouse
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Pre-Existence

I laid me down upon the shore
And dreamed a little space;
I heard the great waves break and roar;
The sun was on my face.

My idle hands and fingers brown
Played with the pebbles grey;
The waves came up, the waves went down,
Most thundering and gay.

The pebbles, they were smooth and round
And warm upon my hands,
Like little people I had found
Sitting among the sands.

The grains of sands so shining-small
Soft through my fingers ran;
The sun shone down upon it all,
And so my dream began:

How all of this had been before;
How ages far away
I lay on some forgotten shore
As here I lie to-day.

The waves came shining up the sands,
As here to-day they shine;
And in my pre-pelasgian hands
The sand was warm and fine.

I have forgotten whence I came,
Or what my home might be,
Or by what strange and savage name
I called that thundering sea.

I only know the sun shone down
As still it shines to-day,
And in my fingers long and brown
The little pebbles lay.

poem by Frances Darwin Cornford
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Lisa and The Aftermath After Sunday

Lisa dresses for school,
buttons up the blouse
with fumbling fingers.
She stares down at her

bed where she and Mona
had lain the day before.
The same sheets, pillows
having no doubt her hair,

her smell. She puts on her
school tie, loops it through,
her fingers sensing the
smoothness of the cloth.

She remembers how they
had made love on that bed,
how they had lain naked and
hot and kissing. Best Sunday

ever, she muses, looking away,
stepping into her school skirt,
pulling it over her waist.
Her mother had called out

to her some minutes before.
Breakfast ready, not in the
mood for food. She looks out
the window at the farmyard

across the way, cows heading
out to the fields, her father
following, bellowing, a stick
in his hand, his arms raised

to move them on. She sits on
the bed and takes a pillow
and holds it to her nose
and sniffs. Mona's scent,

borrowed from her mother,
she had said. She feels along
the sheet with her hand.
They had laid there, their

bodies, their lips kissing,
their hands holding. No one
had known they were
making love. Her parents

and family had thought them
drying after getting drench
in the Sunday downpour.
She closes her eyes, imagines

Mona is still there, thinks
she feels her hands around
her waist. Her mother's voice
calls from downstairs. She sighs,

stands up and slips on her
socks and shoes. Leans down
and puts a kiss on her top
pillow where Mona had

laid her head, now she has only
images and memories instead.

poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

On the Beach

The waves race up the shore,
and then retreat quickly.
It’s hard to tell what they seek
or what they leave behind.
Children paddle at the waters edge
and then scramble to higher ground.
Making believe each in coming wave
is chasing after them.
Seagulls fly overhead,
looking down upon it all,
waiting to swoop down,
should any child let his ice cream fall.
The parents with newspapers sheltering their heads
are so unaware of the dramas played out there,
as children play,
happily on the beach.

(29 May 2007)

poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Wish You Were With Me

There at the horizon now
The sun is meeting the sea.
The radiant sky is painted
With splashes of yellow and red;
It seems, the warmth of love
Just came off the water bed.
Wish you were with me!

Touching the wings of one another
The skeins of geese fly.
Do not know, where are they heading to
Is it a place unknown or a home nearby?
From a distance, I watch the magical moves
Where the feelings of love are running high.
Wish you were with me!

The shadow of loneliness is getting longer
And so is the darkness on the beach.
The waxing crescent moon appears brighter,
As she finds the stars within reach.
Behind the moving clouds, she glows!
While she plays with the dear one,
I watch the love flow...
Wish you were with me!

While I sit on the sand,
My unraveled fingers
Long to touch your hand.
In an emptiness
My heart is about to cry
With the pain within, swelling like waves,
Oh dear, my yearning soul here quietly lies.

poem by Kingshuk Chakraborty
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

People Who Live

People who live by the sea
understand eternity.
They copy the curves of the waves,
their hearts beat with the tides,
& the saltiness of their blood
corresponds with the sea.

They know that the house of flesh
is only a sandcastle
built on the shore,
that skin breaks
under the waves
like sand under the soles
of the first walker on the beach
when the tide recedes.

Each of us walks there once,
watching the bubbles
rise up through the sand
like ascending souls,
tracing the line of the foam,
drawing our index fingers
along the horizon
pointing home.

poem by Erica Jong
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Power Of The Beach

As we walked along the beach, crashing waves
thundered in our ears and a light, salted mist,
dampened our lips.

The sun began to set and the voice of the beach,
traveled across the ocean waves.

'I am the beach, and here you shall find peace.
I am the beach, here you shall find love.

In this domain, my beach, the answers you
search for, could very well be found here.
For at this beach, there is much,
that has been revealed.

The sparkled, white grains of sand, that blanket
this beach, has been a bed of comfort, to many.

Pause, as you come upon this beach, and listen
to the symphony of waves and the chorus of
birds, singing their song, as they glide in the wind.

Feel the power of this beach, as it seems to
renew your inner being. You need not question
the beach and its mystical powers. For as
millions before you have found, the beach...
and its magical transference to one...have
existed, since the beginning of time.

Be not troubled, for the beach is close at
hand. You need only to deliver your strife,
to the tranquility of the beach and it shall
be exercised from you.

When you go from this beach...leave with
the peace that you have found here.'

poem by Joe Fazio
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Under A Blanket Of Stars