[Ann Drysdale]

Just a personal take on the rhymes.

Intrude/road. A perfectly acceptable half-rhyme. Didn't question it as I read it.

Reach/beach - obvious but much better that way round than the other and the bland, matter-of-factness suits the conceit of the poem.

Treats/(obso)lete. No! I can't live with a plural that doesn't have to be there when it skews that rhyme so totally. Could you re-think along the lines of "juicy new message, a Blackberry treat" ?

This is a neat poem and too good to spoil.

[Jean L. Kreiling]

John, thanks for those answers.

Best,
Jean

[Martin Elster]

Track-Maker

You scent the steamy morning air
While crawling up onto the beach
This day which we could never reach,
Even in visions. Everywhere

Cycads, ferns, horsetails, scale trees
And Archaeopteris’s fronds
Lounge around the coastal ponds
To supplement that ancient breeze

With oxygen, allowing you
To breathe and grow and colonize
The land. Quick-darting dragonflies
As large as cats regard you while

Your hunger causes you to chase
Invertebrates. Though you now creep
Across the sand, you’ve kept the deep
Inside your blood — as did our race:

We swam in warm lagoons, and so
Our skin became devoid of down;
Yet endless locks hung from our crown
For swimming with our kids in tow.

Why do we still adore the shore?
You loiter in our memory,
While surging through us is the sea —
And will no matter what’s in store.

(28 Nov. 2010)

[Martin Elster]

[Poem removed by author.]

[Martin Elster]

Beach Jokes

Ocean, with her wavy hair,
Had come to Shore with some jokes to share.
The first had a whale of a final phrase;
It made Shore laugh for days and days:
“Why did the orca cross the sea?
To get to the other tide.” Hee-hee!

The next one had such an awesome punch,
It made Shore drop his coelenterate lunch.
This one really put him in stitches:
“Witches on beaches are called sand-witches.”
The third one, though, made Shore quite mad,
Because the joke was thoroughly bad:

Say, what do sharks like to eat for dinner?
Fish and ships. (No trophy winner!)
Now Shore thought Sea was starting to grate,
So Sea receded at breakneck rate,
And didn’t come back till the tide came in,
Then started her jokes all over again.

She tickled Shore’s every shell and pebble,
Till he yelled, “No more!” in a piercing treble
So loud, the pendulum-tide stood still
And the moon flew away and the Earth grew chill,
Till the spell was broken suddenly
When an orca once more crossed the sea ...

[Martin Elster]

The Writing on the Sand

When springtime comes to Aussieland
And you’ve the urge to walk the strand
With rascally Fido or frisky Rover,
Try not to stress the Hooded Plover,
Sandy-brown and black and white
And sporting a bill that’s ruby-bright.
You might detect a tubby pair
Plucking fleas from the beach’s hair
Or darting on pink-as-coral legs,
Or come across a couple of eggs
Atop a dune or above high-tide.
But if your eyes are occupied
By cumuli, or you’re in a rush,
Tough paws or sandaled feet could crush
Those grey-brown-speckled entities.
Why don’t these birds make nests in trees
Like rational birds? Are they deranged
For laying on a coast that’s changed?
Their eggs are camouflaged; a fox
Might well pass by them on his walks.
Yet, lately, there’s a bigger worry
Than prowling beasts with fangs and furry.
Let’s pray the writing on the sand
Is not too bleak in Aussieland.

[Martin Elster]

John, I really like your Samoa poem. Its kind of Impressionistic and some of the lines have a flavor of Edward Lear to my ear.

[Marion Shore]

The Song of the Plain White Shell

You could have felt the sea run high,
the tradewinds in your sail,
heard the stormy petrel’s cry,
the love song of the whale.

You could have drunk Jamaican rum,
swapped tales with old Jack Tars,
danced all night to native drums
beneath the southern stars.

You could have heard the harbor bells,
seen dolphins spin and twirl;
you chose the pretty painted shell
and left behind the pearl.

[John Whitworth]

Thank you, Martin. Edward Lear is not a bad chap to be like.

[Marion Shore]

Poem on a Scrimshaw

I've seen the stars shine faithfully
upon the icy northern sea;
I've seen them light the southern skies
but none were brighter than your eyes.