POETIC BLOOMINGS

POETIC BLOOMINGS is a Phoenix Rising Poetry Guild site established in May 2011 to nurture and inspire the creative spirit.

LIFE IS A BEACH – FIREWORKS ON THE LAKE

Niagara-Falls-Fireworks (2)

Photo Credit: Walt Wojtanik

 

July 4thHappy Fourth of July and Happy Canada Day (July 1)!  It was a fun day at the beach and you are all set to settle in and watch the fireworks from your vantage point on the sand. Write an Independence Day (or Canada Day) or fireworks poem as it relates to your day at the beach.

KEEPING UP WITH THE WAVES

July 3 – A Day at the Beach (Abstract Poem)

July 2 – A Deserted Beach

July 1 – ALOHA! (HELLO)

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117 thoughts on “LIFE IS A BEACH – FIREWORKS ON THE LAKE

  1. William Preston on said:

    FIREWORKS AT THE SHORE

    The rockets glaring high
    are quite the sight to see,
    sophisticatedly
    displaying in the sky
    much color for the eye
    to treasure, all for free.

    But they recall a night
    when pleasure played no part,
    a time of flares athwart
    the sky, a dreaded sight
    upon a desperate night
    that chilled a poet’s heart

    but birthed a sight so fair:
    the flag, indeed, still there.

  2. I tried the Italian Sonnet again, as I don’t believe I did it justice before. (And so far it’s my favorite of the Sonnet forms I’ve explored. 🙂 )

    To Honor The Fallen (Italian Sonnet)

    The sky is lit with brightest sparks of light,
    The air is rent with bursting cracks and booms:
    A wreath of blue and green and scarlet blooms
    Come drifting down like rainbow rain at night;
    The waves below reflect their bursting light,
    The sand beneath my barefoot toes assumes
    A dappled aspect, sparks like golden plumes
    Adorn the sand, a bright, enchanting sight;
    But suddenly all lights and boomings cease,
    I place my right hand o’er my heart and sing
    Our Anthem full of pride and strength and tears,
    And all the men who died to bring us peace
    Are honored here, who died to cleanse the things
    Of darkness from our land throughout the years.

    © Copyright Erin Kay Hope – July 4, 2013

  3. Henrietta Choplin on said:

    William, Erin… Thank you… I think that you have said it all…

  4. Henrietta Choplin on said:

    Celebration

    Colorful clusters
    color the air
    Sitting with him,
    warmly, we share…

  5. Pingback: Pyro’s Pinnacle | Metaphors and Smiles

  6. Pyro’s Pinnacle
    ~
    The distant shore’s alive with climax, too…snap, crackle and intense booms of bursting fireworks. The explosions are only a muffled echo here. We’re mirrors, the sea and the pools of our soul windows, they’re alight. Brighter still, in our eyes, there’s a shining iris…a flower glowing, colored of deep crimson.
    ~
    Spark and fire ignites,
    exploding energy and light;
    blooming plume of love.
    ~
    Copyright © Hannah Gosselin 2013

  7. DebiSwim on said:

    Celebrate

    A high pitched whistle,
    and then a boom
    a synchronized chorus
    “oooh”, “ahhh”,
    wonder, childlike glee
    Oh, say can you see
    the living kalediscopic colors
    ever changing, sparkling
    shapes of whimsy
    stripes and stars
    every mouth ajar
    hearts proud.

    On the shore dimly seen
    thro’ the mists of the deep,
    as pyrotechnics sweep
    across the evening sky
    I recall with each boom
    those who gave
    those who give
    and the Pow’r
    that hath made,
    preserv’d us a nation
    Pray may it ever be
    the land of the free

    *Lines from “The Star Spangled Banner”
    Oh, say can you see
    stripes and stars
    On the shore dimly seen
    thro’ the mists of the deep,
    and the Pow’r
    that hath made,
    preserv’d us a nation!
    the land of the free

  8. DEANNA, AGE 5

    Her first ride in an airplane
    Destination: D I S N E Y W O R L D.
    A little girl’s dream-come-true.

    And what did she like best?

    Flying high above the clouds?
    A little Ohio girl’s view of Florida palm trees?
    The enchanting Cinderella’s castle?
    Knee-slappin’ Country Bear Jamboree?
    Whimsical Small World?
    Spine-tingling Haunted Mansion?
    The thrill of Space Mountain?
    Or, surely meeting Mickey Mouse face-to-face?

    No.

    What thrilled this little girl’s heart
    (and what she remembers most to this very day)
    Was each nightfall
    When they would leave the park
    To return to the hotel.
    After being bathed,
    She and her little cousin would each choose
    A candy bar from the vending machine
    To eat (pajama-clad) on a strip of hotel beach
    While they watched the nightly fireworks over Cinderella’s castle.

    … And jumping on the bed.

    (Forever grateful to Aunt Peg and Uncle Jim for their love, and for making my little girl’s dream come true.)

  9. Marie Elena on said:

    Hi Bloomers!

    Busy, busy holiday weekend ahead, including out-of-town guests. YAY! Will stop in to read/write as time allows.

    Carry on, and enjoy!!

  10. OVERTURES OVERHEAD

    The sand remains warm long after
    the sun seeks its rest. The best view
    you’ve had in a while. You smile knowing
    soon the glowing reflections will dance.

    The sun seeks its rest. The best view
    is anywhere you are. You see stars shine
    soon the glowing reflections will dance
    when the dusk commences.

    Is anywhere you are where the stars shine?
    The fine line between exposure and explosion
    when the dusk commences
    fades in symphony with the celebration

    The fine line between exposure and explosion
    laced with music; Stars and Stripes Forever,
    fades in symphony with the celebration
    a great start to a program.

    Laced with music, stars and stripes, forever
    augmented by mile high flourishes of light and color.
    A great start to a program,
    you sit on the shore and marvel, Oohs and Aaahs.

    Augmented by mile high flourishes of light and color,
    the sand remains warm long after.
    you sit on the shore and marvel. Oohs and aahs,
    you’ve had quite a time, and you smile glowing.

  11. Happy and Safe 4th Everyone!

    Grateful

    By David De Jong

    I see a banner flash with the fireworks light,
    Just as it did during that courageous night.
    Our banner waves over this land of the free,
    Over mountains, across the plains, from sea to sea.

    As we watch the fireworks and its bursting light,
    Our brave soldiers protect its enduring flight.
    Boots on the beach, jungle floor, or desert mount,
    Each stands for freedom’s call, full measure, full count.

    We love them; we pray for them, we miss them so.
    With pride, we bless them in honor, as they go.
    We stand with their loved ones praying for safe return.
    Grateful for a freedom, others fought to earn.

  12. ejparsons on said:

    Since it’s the 4th of July, I present to you a tribute to the beach over which Fort McHenry stood, and the historic event that took place in September of 1814.

    She Waves

    “O say can you see by the dawn’s early light”

    Peering through the billowing smoke
    Sir Francis Scott Key strained in hope
    To see if, perhaps, Old Glory still flew
    To look once more at the red, white and blue

    “What so proudly we hailed at the twilight’s last gleaming”

    When last he looked the night before
    From his floating vessel far off shore
    Above the fort she bravely waved
    He strained to see if she’d survived

    “Whose broad stripes and bright stars through the perilous fight”

    On a field of blue laid fifteen stars
    With fifteen stripes laid out in bars
    The largest flag known for that day
    It could be seen from miles away

    “O’er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming”

    Proudly she waved on high through the night
    Proudly she waved on high through the fight
    If she would fall, the fort would be lost
    Proudly she waved in spite of the cost

    “And the rockets’ red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
    Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there”

    Straining to see her throughout the night
    When bomb blasts flared she flashed into sight
    The battle continued till the morning dawn
    Through it all, Lady Liberty proudly flew on

    “O say does that star-spangled banner yet wave,
    O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave?”

    Francis Scott Key was witness that morn
    Old Glory survived, though quite battle worn
    Two hundred years later, his words still ring true
    She still waves free; the red, white and blue

    © 2013 Earl Parsons

  13. A BLAST

    A beach is the safe place
    to release it all:
    the stress
    the frustration
    the anger
    the exuberance
    the kids
    and the fireworks.

  14. A Light Show

    They carry fireworks in small boats
    to big pontoons away from shore,
    sorting their stores of tubed rockets,
    and setting up their July 4th light show.

    They know just what to do to make
    the launching site safe and prepared,
    then they sit down with cooler drinks
    and wait relaxed for the night to fall.

    There’s time for dinner on the shore,
    then boats from sloops to catamarans
    set sail to take their viewing place
    on the horizon, past breakers.

    The milling crowds stake out a place
    to stand or sit and watch the sails
    like flags unfurl and take to wind,
    Old Glory there in every size.

    The silhouettes of men at work,
    the blast of music, Sousa’s march,
    and then the early pops in air,
    and all eyes lift and take to sky.

    No one can watch the layered sparks,
    the colors, lights against the night
    reflected, mirrored in the sea,
    and not emit some oo’s and ahh’s.

    And though we wish our anthem were
    “America, the Beautiful”
    (for we grow sick to honor war
    remembering so many lost),

    our hearts still clench and we still sing
    and even children mouth the words
    from ball games or Olympic gold,
    along a beach where freedoms ring.

  15. Life is a Beach; Fireworks on the 4th

    He’s gone; he’s gone. All she can see
    fireworks breaking; his bravery.
    He’s gone away; here she can’t stay;
    her heart has been cast out to sea.

    Upon this beach; watching the sky
    explode the colors found in his eyes,
    but he has left without true goodbye;
    her heart is now cast out to sea.

    He’ gone; he’s gone ; her tears that fall
    will not quench the war where he fell.
    Burn, burn his eyes remembered well;
    they light up the night on this beach.

    But hearts are now torn out to sea.
    Her heart has been cast to the sea.

  16. janeshlensky on said:

    Ouch the 4th

    Is independence ever
    achieved without pain
    to make it memorable?

    White heat of the sun
    and cool blue water, deep and rolling,
    create red skin, burning like fireworks

    exploding in night air, hot and cold
    cascading, reverberating
    along damaged nerve endings.

    Distracted by the prospect
    of choice, of unfettered time,
    we forget self-preservation.

    O, say, can you see
    that freedoms are limited
    by ignoring simple safety?

  17. Fifteenth Summer, Fireworks

    We’ve splashed the day away
    and have sand in more places
    than we’d like, but as those
    puddles of color zing upward
    we forget our sunburned cheeks
    and watch crimson skyfire
    echoed in ripples of waves.

    Ooooooooo…Ahhhhhhh…

    Earlier I wrote your name
    in marker on tree limbs
    as well as my own skin
    and somehow here you are
    now beside me not quite
    touching but every bit as
    electric as these sparkling
    trails of ridiculous color
    falling
    falling
    falling

    into the Lake.

    Ooooooooo…Ahhhhhhh…

    Your finger traces sand
    (scrit) then laces through
    mine, and I find I can no
    longer breathe or speak
    or lie and my heart bursts
    forth for all to see, nothing
    left but ashes gently drifting
    from sky.

    .

  18. Pingback: Fifteenth Summer, Fireworks | Whimsygizmo's Blog

  19. Fourth

    From decks and back porches blocks around,
    neighbors emerge, check the skies, go back
    for matches, charcoal, hickory chips, fire up
    the grill. Inside the unseen preparations
    are underway—rib rubs, marinades, and sauce.
    The bounty from yesterday’s outdoor market
    are transformed into salads and sides.
    Eyeing the sky, the clock, the kids run down
    from the televisions where they watch
    superheroes on re-runs to ask if it’s time yet.
    The food for them is just a time-consuming
    preliminary. Nothing counts today for them
    but the fireworks, bought on a state line run—
    where the good stuff is still legal. No rite
    of passage before drivers’ licenses matter
    more than the first year they are allowed
    to take their places at the water’s edge,
    placing the red-white-and-blue cardboard
    Chinese explosives then waiting impatiently
    until dark to light the wicks, sending fireballs
    into the sky, the echoing booms in harmony
    with the oohs and ahhs from the safety
    of the balconies and poolsides all around.

    • William Preston on said:

      Your descriptions are marvellous, as usual, but one catches my eye with added force: “… red-white-and-blue cardboard Chinese explosives…”

    • DebiSwim on said:

      Every year on our way back from the beach getting the fireworks was the highlight of the trip. Your poem was a perfect description of his excitement.

    • Henrietta Choplin on said:

      Perfectly captured!!

    • janeshlensky on said:

      This is the story of most American neighborhoods today. The red, white, and blue Chinese fireworks reminded me of a fireworks display in China for the 4th, complete with hundreds of little girls in those colors spelling out WELCOWE! Someone got confused on M’s and W’s…

  20. William Preston on said:

    THE FOURTH ON THE FARM

    Crash! Siss-boom
    baaaaah.
    Explosive sheep.

    copyright 2013, William Preston

  21. Fireworks

    No sight can give me shivers
    and make my heart pound,
    like the booming of the canons
    setting off the fireworks from the ground.

    The oo’s and ah’s of my neighbors,
    the giggles of delight;
    the occasionally scared young cry
    are all a part of this magic night.

    Whether in a field
    or sitting on the shore,
    I give thanks for our freedom
    as I scour the sky for more.

  22. connielpeters on said:

    Independence Day

    The Independence Day package
    of friends, family, food,
    games, sparklers laughter
    wrapped up with red,
    white and blue bows
    of fireworks mirrored
    as a shimmering colorful path
    in the water below
    leads us to think
    about the hard-won prize
    of liberty and justice for all.

  23. Pingback: Fireworks On The Beach | echoes from the silence

    • FIREWORKS ON THE BEACH

      Sand, everywhere.
      Sulfur fills my lungs.
      Even with eyes closed
      I see the flash.
      My heart feels
      the reverberations.
      Pop! Pop! Pop!
      BOOOOOM!
      Breathing…
      In.
      Out.
      I remind myself
      that I’m no longer
      across the ocean
      in a foreign land…
      it is
      Independence Day.

      2013-07-04
      P. Wanken

  24. Henrietta Choplin on said:

    …yes…

  25. Fourth in Harmony

    Heat, intense, ripples water
    and sky. Sun shimmers
    bodies on blankets, and swimmers
    standing at shoreline, until
    all beach life undulates
    as a watercolor dancer.
    Monotone of sand, tattooed
    with evening shadow, slants
    underfoot. Sated, sunburned,
    serenity watches twilight
    turn from pink to violet.
    We watch, as music hums
    faintly and the first bubbles
    burst into white streamers.
    We watch, as swelling
    sounds of harmony coordinate
    with color. A star-spangled
    light show of shapes bursts
    like rockets in the air, trailing
    smoke and mirrors.

  26. To be young again?

    Ah, the young…
    celebrate the 4th
    pounding beers
    getting burned
    tattoos and bikinis of
    red, white, and blew chunks

  27. The Hangover

    shrill shrieks
    and bright flashes,
    popping, thudding, bursting
    future reminder of tonight’s
    fireworks

  28. Pingback: Beach Poems: Fireworks and Sand Castles | The Chalk Hills Journal

  29. Marjory MT on said:

    Alouetta… (aa bb cc b, 55 77 55 7)
    Awaiting fireworks fun,
    wishing darkness come,
    tripping down the ocean road
    carrying our explosive load
    pick just the right spot
    to set up the lot.
    breathless watch the works explode.

  30. Never saw them on a lake–but have seen them on the ocean

    Fire in the Sky

    The skys on fire
    No, it’s the water
    Doesn’t matter
    Each boom and spray
    Of brilliant light
    Makes me gasp
    In delight

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