Haiku Cool white powder sand Golden sunshine and blue sky A beach of your dreams Copyright © 2023 Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing All Rights Reserved
There is a magical day in late April or early May when I pull out of my garage, head to the road and there are hardly any cars to be seen. A smile will light up my face and I will exclaim “They have gone” and a long sigh of relief will leave my body.
Our little coastal “city” quietens down and you can almost feel its heartbeat slowing in gratitude. Yes, the snowbirds would have flown back north and the traffic jams will be no more. There will be no one driving 40 mph in the fast lane. We will be able to get a doctor’s or dentist’s appointment once more and no waiting for a restaurant reservation.
Off-season is my favorite season of the year.
Snowbirds have flown north Peaceful solitude returns Beach pristine once more Copyright © 2023 Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing All Rights Reserved Linda Lee Lyberg is hosting Haibun Monday at D’Verse and has prompted us with ‘Late Spring’
At First Light
At first light the rolling fog Sits perched just above the tide Hovering, unmoved by the sea below A tiny crab disappears into its hidey hole in the sand Shells scattered like confetti waiting to be bleached by the morning sun, yet to show its face Mine the only footprints to mark their presence on the pristine beach Soon to be crowded with bodies lined up like sardines in a can smothered in oil These silent moments alone Precious and priceless Copyright © 2022 Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing All Rights Reserved Sarah is hosting D'Verse Poets and gave us some fascinating prompt words that are actually names of paints. Here is the list: * Trumpet * Tea with Florence * Chemise * Confetti * Goblin * Mirror * Rolling fog * First light * Hidey hole * Masquerade We were to choose one or more to inspire our poem. I chose four: First light, confetti, rolling fog and hidey hole.
Without a Trace
Footprints stolen by the sea Voices drowned by gulls Words carried away in protest on salty winds The beach keeps its secrets of ghosts from the past Sweeping away remnants of life and love without a trace until there’s nothing left but pristine sand Although here among the driftwood and starfish, your essence lingers still Your presence is felt, always Copyright © 2022 Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing All Rights Reserved Sarah from Sarahsouthwest is hosting Tuesday night at D'Verse and she has prompted us with Lost Valentines "lost loves, your broken loves, your loves that never were! The fireworks that didn’t quite go off, the bud that never opened, the seed that failed to sprout." This is a poem I wrote a couple of years ago Image by Christina1966 from Pixabay
Senryu The beach brings me peace Soft sand and warm water soothes a spirit broken Copyright © 2021 Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing All Rights Reserved
Her early morning beach walk cleared the lingering fog in her head. Remnants of heady passion from the night before were hard to shake off.
Surprised to see him when she had opened her eyes. Sunlight shining on his bronzed body. She’d half expected him to have left without a word. She panicked slightly, and pulled on her shirt slipping silently out the door.
She sat studying the clouds.
“There you are” she heard a voice say
She turned. He was walking along the damp sand towards her.
“Why did you leave?” he asked. His voice slightly accented.
“Just looking for familiar objects in these clouds.” she answered without thinking.
“But these clouds are clearly foreign, such an exotic clutter against the blue cloth of the sky”, he said.
“Clouds speak in the universal language”, her voice a little husky. “Don’t you know that?”
Copyright © 2021 Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing All Rights Reserved Merril is hosting D’Verse Poets Prosery Monday and has prompted us with ‘Clouds’. We are to use the following lines: “But these clouds are clearly foreign, such an exotic clutter Against the blue cloth of the sky” –from “Clouds” by Constance Urdang Prosery is a piece of flash fiction no ,longer than 144 words, excluding the title. Image by MustangJoe from Pixabay
He is still talking ... I listened intently for as long as I could but felt my mind wandering to a faraway place where all I could hear was the gentle lapping of waves against a sandy shores A warm breeze rustled the sea grasses as I studied my toes buried deep in the cool soft powdered beach I watched sandpipers toying with the water Running out and running in, never to get wet I picked up treasure of bleached-out shells Waiting in their emptiness to be collected and transported elsewhere and stored in a box with a lid closed tight Never to see the sun again until needed for a memory check of what once was I followed footprints along the beach Watching the tide reclaim them effortlessly The colors began to change in the late afternoon and there is an orange glow the color of marmalade A seagull shrieks loudly and I am startled from my peaceful sojourn It is then I realize ... He is still talking Copyright © 2021 Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing All Rights Reserved Peter Frank is hosting D'Verse Poets, Meet at the Bar tonight. He has prompted us with 'Circular poetry'. We have the option to write a Pantoum or Villanelle which are circular poems with repetition, or to write a poem showing something coming full circle Photo by Saksham Gangwar on Unsplash
Senryu Lazing on the beach Feeling warm rays of sunshine Soothing the body Copyright © 2021 Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing All Rights Reserved
Sunday evenings without fail the drum circle assembles on the beach and to the setting sun its worshippers do hail On the sand they dance in a circle of frenzy Banging on their drums Chanting to the music Mesmerized and welcoming anyone who comes Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing © Mish is hosting Monday Quadrille at D'Verse Poets and has prompted us with the word Drum A Quadrille is a poem of exactly 44 words excluding the title The Drum Circle is a weekly event year-round on Siesta Key Beach, Sarasota, FL