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Clive Blake May 8
The Cornish shore …
Where golden sand lies next
To dappled grey granite rock,
Where the sea breeze sweeps
And the mussels flock,
Where the rock pools gather
And the small ***** patrol,
Where the white foam curls
And the breakers roll,
Where the sea birds call
And the salt spray stings,
Where the seaweed sunbathes
And the limpet clings,
Where a stream’s course meanders,
And reflects the azure sky,
Where a starfish gazes skywards
And white clouds go scudding by.

By all means take treasured memories,
But please take nothing more,
And leave nothing but your footprints
On this sacred Cornish shore …
Cornwall is my homeland and l lies on the South Western most tip of the UK and is largely surrounded by the sea and its beautiful coastline.  Anything which comes from Cornwall, including its people, is/are described as Cornish. Cornish.  Cornwall is 'Kernow' in the Cornish language.
Anais Vionet Jan 4
We hurtle down the last few hundred feet
of steep lavender lined cobbled *****
shaded by majestic umbrella pines - around
a last hairpin turn and there they are:

The blue-white Pampelonne beaches, of St Tropez.
Their indecent beauty almost defeats words.

With the scents of lavender, pine and salt sea air, you can
get dizzy on the aromatics. It's a Mediterranean performance
or perhaps a preview of heaven.

Our daredevil, fifteen year old driver, (Sylvain)
gets an unappreciative look from my mom. My brother (Brice)
and sister (Annick) whoop as if practiced, as they leap
from the open-sided Mercedes shuttle. I calmly gather my things.

This tranquil and elegant beach cove is private for hotel
guests - no chic crowds here - just a few quiet guests and
valets dressed in beige. The Pampelonne beaches are *******
(**** if you like), Annick peels ******* just before she hits the waves.

Brice, ever the considerate brother says, “Come ON,
RELAX, you’ll just look like one of the BOYS.”
Which earns him the old, American, one-finger salute.

I missed vacations this year and the beaches - where hours
stretch, with blissful laziness, to the rhythm of nature.
Will we ever get back to some pre-pandemic "normal"?
I hope that we can "storm the beaches" again in 2021 (ready to lead the charge).
Seranaea Jones Jul 2020
my footfalls translate to mileage in the
way that feathers can be lost to a given
amount of wing beats—

each iteration of propulsion will shed
bits of material,

and these are mixed into the sands that are
splashed across beaches, bleached and
eventually broken down into elemental shapes

one of those grains flew and landed on a
boardwalk and then another one
kicked it aside many years ago
by some distant shoreline,

they now lie together in my path—
why i know this is anyone's guess,
but surely the math is in my favor

needless to say, even if my remains withstand
the sands of time there wont be anyone
left to recognize me,

yet i am certain a piece of me will always
be a few steps ahead somewhere,

either washed there from a recent gale,
or maybe blown from the nostrils
of a passing sea gull...

"shoes and feathers"
© 2020 by Seranaea Jones
all rights reserved
Yazad Tafti Jul 2020
rip all my hairs out hoping they access a brain cell to help me wipe my memory like a shaun white, snow tidal wipeout

strand by strand hoping to find a destresser to pull the plug of my brain's photobooks

you catalyze my grief and a cobweb nostalgia
silk an admired commodity yet **** out by a creature who has it handed to it at aggregated birth

stuck in this mess
but i have my fist clenched around a web which is as adhesive as a 48 hour hardened glue

glued to you but i'm acetone fused and it's only a serum's distance to an isle of distant cries , haunting melodies of  f# major vocal hymns and

a sand filled paradise where wild life flies and quick sand awaits to offer a gorgeous, satin, embodiment of warmth.

yours deceivingly..

that good old horrendous feeling
Aaron Combs Jun 2020
This, this song I made you, let it pierce your heart,
like the silver moon earrings, close your eyes,

Let me hold you on high.
Let me hold you on high.

Like the Kansas fields that outnumber the stars,
let's walk on the wheat fields of gold, for even
if I can't forgive you, my heart will freely love you.

Over and over,

like red Georgia Peaches,  like Florida Beaches,
wave after wave, I’ll show you a new song,
So we can be one again,  let it all sweep you away.  
For the diamonds at dusk, are waiting for us.

For like the Chicago sunrise, let the power of it's sunrise,
sing you back to life, until you are alive and washed by dreams.

Embrace me, hold on, like a California dream, pretend it's just me,
like the ring on your finger, let this be,
let this be, a time between you and me.

For if you harden your heart, lets go back to one,
let me be like your silver moon earrings,

let me hold you on high.
let me hold you on high.
Tangerine May 2020
𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝑒𝓇 𝒹𝒶𝓎𝓈
𝓈𝑜 𝒷𝓇𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉
𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒶 𝑔𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝒷𝓇𝑒𝑒𝓏𝑒
𝒷𝓁𝓊𝑒 𝓈𝓀𝒾𝑒𝓈
𝓈𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓀𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓈𝑒𝒶𝓈
JD Apr 2020
I love to wake up and see you
I love to wake up and hear you

Your smell in my hair
Your taste on my tongue

I want to spend every day near you
Sunrises and sunsets are the best

But, I hate the feel of the sand on my body
I sunburn too quickly
I am not a strong swimmer

This is my sad love affair with the ocean!
My sad love affair
Michael R Burch Mar 2020
by Michael R. Burch

Moonbeams on water —
the reflected light
of a halcyon star
now drowning in night ...
So your memories are.

Footprints on beaches
now flooding with water;
the small, broken ribcage
of some primitive slaughter ...
So near, yet so far.

Keywords/Tags: Distance, sun, star, moon, reflection, memories, beaches, shores, near, far, night, shadows, footprints, water
Starry Sep 2019
Is this a real sand beach
Or is pebbles
All I new that that sun set seen like the real
So I step
On to the beach
White sand how about it that.
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