Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Like the waves,
Who ebb and flow,
Like the shells,
With colours galore,
Like the trees,
And where they grow.

There is one thing,
That you should know,
You are always,
Where you're meant to be,
Who you're meant to be,
Save yourself,
From the sorrow.
Carl Miller Feb 3
Big dogs roam the streets at night
The frail little bird nests, snugly, so tight
Sprinkling infected, burning kisses on everyone You love
Fire comes down in sheets from above

Deeper and deeper do You crawl straight down
Going absolutely nowhere , You burrow and drown
Angels and their people-pets, walk freely on land
Albino seaweed and black seashells, shatter, like glass in My hand
Written 01/31/19
PoserPersona Aug 2018
During youth I was quite the collector
of ocean ******'s annealed sandcastles
Though the hosts inside could not be cheaper,
their fleshy coats were worth all the hassles

Content I was amassing worn seashells;
monthly did this fine collection accrue
Though furnished, barren felt those wooden shelves,
as even pearls are lesser than a jewel

Still, the sand was warm; the waves were soothful
and regardless of what hollowness struck,
the beach granted a chance to feel fruitful
so long as one had either skill or luck

Alone was I, but daresay not lonely,
but I was not merry until married.
Lady Ravenhill Jun 2018
Amber Sun sets
Foamy seas retreat
Treasures cast ashore
© LadyRavenhill 2018
Haiku 48
mrc May 2018
the melancholy of the moment hit me hard
like a rain check ten minutes before meeting
i've been on that road probably a thousand
times since last may
but something about the sunshine and the
slightly balmy breeze of late april
made me crave you in a way i hadn't before
i craved the way you always smelled like
essential oils and organic moisturizer
the seashells on your window frame
the creak in the floorboards in your entryway
the wind in my hair as i rode my bike to your
house, barely even able to wait long enough
for the white walk signal
i miss that
and it vanished right before my eyes
it's like every i touch falls apart
and i can't do anything to stop it
the funny things was
it started raining
Once upon a time,
Someone lived in me

I sheltered them,
And protected them,

Provided a place to hide from the world’s sorrow,
And to brace it’s storms

One day,
I was left alone

I was abandoned,
Left empty and hollow

The current took a toll,
It pushed and pulled

The ocean spit me out,
Broken and weak

I found myself wedged between two boulders,
Unable to move with the sea

Then I was found !
By someone who accepted my broken parts

She thought I was different,
My journey made me different

Because each journey is unique to its owner,
And it is theirs alone

Now, I’m on her window sill,
A place of value

Everyday she admires my beauty and my scars,
She accepts what is,

And that is enough.
E McNamara Mar 2018
I wish I was there again.
I wish everything that’s in my head got lost at sea,
that all I could taste was salty air.
I wish I was walking in the little shops
that all sold seashells and starfish.
I wish everywhere I was I could hear the crashing tide;
calling me back to the cold, fresh, water.
I wish my feet were buried in warm sand,
hiding from the chilling breeze.
I wish I was where time slowed to a stop,
where I had all the time in the world.
I wish I was staring into a never ending horizon,
where I wasn’t always running to catch up.
Where all I had to do was breathe in and breathe out.
I can't stop dreaming of the Oregon Coast.
RyMo Mar 2018
What if Sally never sold the seashells?
What if she simply strolled the seashore without wanting any more?
With nothing to do but to love and adore?
Because she knew well that deep down in her core,
She had more in this present moment than ever before.
So instead of setting up shop and selling some shells,
She took a moment to stop and started smelling the smells.
Sally smelt the breeze both wispy and sweet,
And she felt the ocean kissing her feet.
And in that present moment she understood the truth,
That wealth was not acquired behind some seashell booth,
But rather it was in the sea and in the shells themselves,
And never could it be found on some capitalistic shelves,
Sally smiled because she knew so much more than before,
She smiled because she knew the tide would bring more shells ashore.
*inspired by the low tide in Puerta Penasco, Mexico in October 2017*
I remember pressing my
innocent ears to the mouths
of discarded seashells, just to
hear their secrets; and I shared mine.
They told me secrets in the form of
ocean waves and whispers of wind
between the fingers of the palms.

On days that I feel the world
crumbling and combusting
around me, I press my wiser
ears to the same lips that kept
all my secrets safe. I remember
the advice seashells gave to a
young girl who'd felt discarded.
Be like the ocean, let it flow.
Asher Jan 2017
i remember the soft sand
that never burnt my feet
because you were with me.

i remember the calm ocean
when the waves were soft
on the shore we got lost.

i remember the salt smell
that had felt so cleansing
you were my best friend
the ocean, you, the sand.

i remember the sun’s reflection
that rippled with the water
and your eyes were never brighter.

i remember the shells we found
waist deep in water or just wandering
with you i had never felt calmer.

but the night was cold
while our hands were warm
as we floated in the starry water.
the wolf and the ocean's love story - innocence (part two)
Next page