Beach Poems
The Flowers
by Rudyard Kipling
To our private taste, there is always something a little exotic,
almost artificial, in songs which, under an English aspect and dress,
are yet so manifestly the product of other skies. They affect us
like translations; the very fauna and flora are alien, remote;
the dog's-tooth violet is but an ill substitute for the rathe primrose,
nor can we ever believe that the wood-robin sings as sweetly in April
as the English thrush. -- THE ATHEN]AEUM.
Buy my English posies!
Kent and Surrey may --
......
The Dream Of Wearing Shorts Forever
by Les Murray
To go home and wear shorts forever
in the enormous paddocks, in that warm climate,
adding a sweater when winter soaks the grass,
to camp out along the river bends
for good, wearing shorts, with a pocketknife,
a fishing line and matches,
or there where the hills are all down, below the plain,
to sit around in shorts at evening
......
Four Poems For Robin
by Gary Snyder
Siwashing It Out Once in Suislaw Forest
I slept under rhododendron
All nightblossoms fell
Shivering on a sheet of cardboard
Feet stuck in my pack
Hands deepin my pockets
Barelyableto sleep.
I rememberedwhen we were in school
Sleeping together in a big warm bed
......
Ground Swell
by Mark Jarman
Is nothing real but when I was fifteen,
Going on sixteen, like a corny song?
I see myself so clearly then, and painfully--
Knees bleeding through my usher's uniform
Behind the candy counter in the theater
After a morning's surfing; paddling frantically
To top the brisk outsiders coming to wreck me,
Trundle me clumsily along the beach floor's
Gravel and sand; my knees aching with salt.
Is that all I have to write about?
......
The First Chantey
by Rudyard Kipling
Mine was the woman to me, darkling I found her;
Haling her dumb from the camp, took her and bound her.
Hot rose her tribe on our track ere I had proved her;
Hearing her laugh in the gloom, greatly I loved her.
Swift through the forest we ran; none stood to guard us,
Few were my people and far; then the flood barred us --
Him we call Son of the Sea, sullen and swollen.
Panting we waited the death, stealer and stolen.
......
Our Beach Vacation
by Dr. Robert Ippaso
Wait
This can't be a mistake
The morning light
Is just too bright
We've overslept
Curled up in bed
Now we must rush
......
Beached
by Michael J. Nappi
Her essence in the breeze,
teasing, tantalizing, tasty.
Piquant pleasures fill his head
powerful, dangerous… unconstrained.
A boy watching, wishing from shore.
joined in imagination and dreams.
Slow shrinking ships at the horizon,
the alter of liquid pleasure.
......
Forgetfulness
by Kailey Norris
Forgetfulness is a cabin on the beach,
A rocking chair on a pier.
A sunset over a sailboat.
The ocean's tide swallows fear and worry,
It's salty mist spraying serenity and rest.
The crash of waves bring power from stormy seas,
Lapping of ripples under a dock from wind and tide.
......
Sanctuary
by Evelyn Judy Buehler
I was a stylish, assertive travel agent, arranging getaways for busy people;
Like sudden getaways of jewel, shooting stars, on ebony nights of upheaval.
I planned calm, exotic, trip itineraries, for all tired of city hustle and bustle;
Like a dark red flower, blooming isolated, in peach sunshine of little trouble.
I also arranged for transportation and lodging, for exhausted, glad travelers;
As beauty birds fly north and south singing, ever ecstatic, joy ambassadors.
I began dreaming of a getaway myself, one of complete rest and relaxation.
......
To The Seaside
by Hébert Logerie
You and I will go to the seaside
You and I will flee the frigid winter
To live on beautiful and clean beaches
In the short waves on the shore.
You and I will dream together every night
You and I will live under the stars in the dark
You and I will sleep with our pillows
On the sparkling and crystal sand of the summer heat.
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