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Peter Farsje Feb 2020
Beware young and old alike
for the place that is a scary sight.
Its the Pirate's Cove
sure enough, by jove.

Protected by Sunset Reef,
raiders there will come to grief.

There amongst the shoals
many here have lost their souls.

Daring ones who venture
there by skiff,
often fail to spy their shack,
under the cliff.

The shack is there
though hard to see.
Tattered and weathered
and leaning alee.

Their fighting ship
is hard to seek,
for its hidden well up
the nearby creek.

Bloodthirsty pirates
ready to take your life,
to poke you or stab you
with their long, sharp knife.

In the early morning
they may be snoring,
after a wild night
of drinking and sporting.

Pray not wake them
or you risk your life,
by tasting the
bite of their trusty knife.

Seeking their chests
filled with gold
may land you down
in the depths so cold.

So lads and lasses
stay away
and live to see
another day.
Charlie Dog Jun 2018
Rock, tall, edged,
and slightly warn by the sun,
forms it's curve around the bank like a gentle hug.
This layer of privacy from the rest of the ocean.
This our own escape from the rest of the world.
I would watch you from the shore,
as you'd jump with the waves,
feeling the sand hot between my toes.
And you beckoning me to join.
You'd claim to be a king,
asserting your dominance over the sea.
I couldn't help but laugh when the waters overthrew you.
The hours we spent there, seem so distant now...
I miss laughing on the beach with you,
and all the sunsets we watched.
What became of our little swimming cove?
Saint Audrey Jul 2017
This is expository in nature
Hang on tight

Serenity of life
Gray skies for the choices I
Find time to make
Right up until the rain
Comes down
Real time precipitation
For the sole reason
Of flooding my soul

Charging the clouds
With negative energy
Eventuality says they'll burst
Sooner or later
And as the water flows down to the earth
Then up and over my teeth
Nearly up to my shoulders
Growing ever higher
Ever getting closer
It was all inevitability

Trying to change the sky
Is slowly ******* killing me
With every single storm
That rolls by

Its beyond me
And you too

Too soon

When will I be taken?
Who can tell
But hell, if I don't know when
When time itself never began
**** estimations, and **** plans

One way to escape

We all know the way

A darkened cave
A lonely overhang

No one dares approach for
Fear of going missing

There's so much more I wanted to say
Words and phrases before
I made my final escape
This cave I know
May be too cold
For The embolden spirits
Who hold on dearly to
Earthy merit

But know this
No one will be missed
In a minute
Àŧùl May 2017
It behaved as the young dove,
I started chasing elusive love,
It shielded its valuable trove,
I found it hidden in the cove,
It smelt so fresh like the clove,
I gave it a much needed shove,
It fumbled right into my glove.
My HP Poem #1534
©Atul Kaushal
Cori MacNaughton Jul 2015
Depression might not
be helped by a book that starts
with a suicide
Third of four poems written this morning.
I decided to get out of my weekend blue funk by listening to the audiobook of Christopher Moore's inspired insanity, namely his book "The Lust Lizard of Melancholy Cove," which may well be the funniest book I've ever read.  
Naturally, having read the book around ten years ago, I completely forgot that the book opens with a suicide, which of course struck me as hilariously funny in context.  
Especially since depression - namely the depression gripping the whole town - figures prominently in the story.  
Yeah, I'm weird.  ;-)
Marisa Lu Makil Feb 2015
Blue, blue
Tearing earth asunder
As  a dear friend who I am
Some might call me water.

Blue, blue
Look, oh look at me!
Home to plants and fish alike
Some would call me sea

Blue, blue
Earth has me in bonds
Bugs across my surface skim
I am called a pond.

Blue, blue
'Cross country like a sliver
Tossing, swerving, bubbling, laughing
I was named a river.

Blue, blue
Cover me in love.
Boats and fins across me swim.
I am called a cove.
I wrote this a long time ago, and just now found it again. Haha

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