July 18th โ There was no greater thrill than loading the lot of us into the station wagon and heading for the beach. Write a poem featuring children at the beach. Or write from the viewpoint of a child for this foray into poetics.
And don’t pass up the opportunity to “meet” an incredible young person and poet featured in Marie’s Poet Interview. Today, our featured poet is none other that Erin Kay Hope. Read her chat with Marie HERE and you’ll walk away feeling that there is hope for the world with young ones like Erin Kay in it!
***
KEEPING UP WITH THE WAVES
POETIC BLOOMINGS 
Responses
MOON TRIP TANKA 57577
Sometimes a child can dream….
‘
On the beach one night,
I caught a beam of light,
zipped up to the moon,
where a wee man met me
served me biscuits, cheese and tea.
In his moon buggy,
we toured hills and craters,
gathering moon dust,
then danced with cute sky fairies
that resembled butterflies.
They took me flying
oโer a bright crystal sea
filled with waiting stars
that one by one were gathered
and sent to lighten menโs lives.
We built tall castles
of moon rocks, sand and laughter.
Camped mid shooting stars,
played drums, flute and golden harps
and sang songs both old and new.
We shared past stories
of moon and earthโs beginnings,
adventures we each did,
of manโs first trip to the moon
when moon-man and fairies hid.
Days full of learning,
exploring, eating blue cheese
too quickly flashed by
โtil again a full moon shown,
Tโwas time to beam back home.
Wonderful tanka train.
Thanks, I just keep chugging. ๐
๐ !! Wonderful imaginings, my friend!! (blue cheese, ha, ha)
I heard, as a child, the moon was made of cheese, plus have heard folk talk of a ‘blue moon’….so ๐
Enchanting. What a wonderful dream you have built.
Thank You, Viv, Dream Flying is fun and a moon-beam is a great avenue.
What a way to start us out, Marjory. Enchanting, indeed!
Marie Elena
Thank you so much Marie, This just seemed to beam up from the beach. ๐
Plage
She must have been eight
when she first saw the sea
which seems pretty late
for a small-island girl.
But World War Two
had put an end to travel
and other good things, too.
So when told of a trip
to a place sheโd not heard of โ
Littlehampton it was โ for a dip,
she was ecstatic,
though in for a shock quite traumatic.
โWeโre going to see the sea,โ
she chanted, all the way there.
โWeโre going to see the sea.โ
But when they arrived
she was so surprised:
theyโd put a high fence round the sea.
An ugly ramshackle contraption,
surrounded by rusty barbed wire,
its feet in the water,
a few yards from the shore –
โWhy?โ she asked in a plaintive tone,
โwhy have they gone and spoiled it?โ
โIt was made to keep out the enemy,โ they said.
Without that, she would have enjoyed it.
โIt must be so prettyโ she wailed in a pet,
โwithout that nasty obstruction.โ
โI think Iโll go home now, if you donโt mind.โ
Said her Mum โOh no, dear, not yet.
Thereโs a picnic to eat
then a ride on the seat
of a swingboat, high in the sky,
and sandcastles to build,
youโll see, youโll be thrilled
before it is time for goodbye.โ
This poem was originally written for the late lamented Big Tent, in 2010, but the Life is a Beach prompt for today seemed to fit it to a T. It was originally inspired by lines from a long Houseman poem Diffugere Nives (Horace: Odes iv 7)
โSmooth between sea and land
Is laid the yellow sand,
and here through summer days
the seed of Adam plays.โ
I have re-posted it here:http://vivinfrance.wordpress.com/2013/07/18/plage/
Wonderful; takes me to England at about the time I was born. I often wondered how English kids felt, particularly when they were sent to the countryside, away, it was hoped, from the bombs.
We stayed in London all through the blitz – my sister and I slept under the stairs (you will find my wartime memoir in the header bar of my blog: http://www.vivinfrance.wordpress.com.
It wasn’t until the flying bombs started that my Mum said enough’s enough and we went to stay with my Great Aunt in Suffolk.
I love this Viv. I didn’t know about “An ugly ramshackle contraption,
surrounded by rusty barbed wire, its feet in the water, a few yards from the shore” – this is a wonderful look back.
… wow… I can’t even imagine… I’m glad that you had a safe place to go, Viv!!
What a shocker!! Great, per usual, writing.
Wow. Powerful stuff here. And on the heals of watching a documentary on “Omaha Beach” just last night. Disturbing, to say the least.
Marie Elena
THE BISHOPโS TEEN-AGE SON
When he goes with his folks to the beach
I am sure they will soon scream and screech,
for his trysts in the water
with the ministerโs daughter
arenโt by chance, nor are figures of speech.
copyright 2013, William Preston
Hilarious!
Uh, oh…
:0 ๐
HA! Good stuff! Fun, perfect rhythm, creative, funny as all get out!
Marie Elena
A KID IN THE SAND
There is no other sight in all the land
as happy and gay as a kid in the sand
building his castles for all to see;
enjoying the wind and despising the lee;
running and jumping and splashing about
with giggles and jiggles and many a shout;
embracing the waves like a sister or brother
and, when each one passes, seeking another.
Whatever gods be, may they lend a strong hand
to ensure a safe world for the kids in the sand.
copyright 2013, William Preston
๐ Captured!!
Indeed! And I soooo appreciate how you never break cadence. Go William!
Marie Elena
First one is wicked fun and the second I second your prayer.
A delightfully happy poem.
100% four sure.
CHLOE MINAH DIGS THE BEACH
Chloe Minah on the shore
standing in the sand,
looking out across the lake
scoop and pail in hand
Chloe was a driven girl,
the most of all the Minah’s,
and her intent was heaven sent,..
to dig her way to China.
Every day for one full week
Chloe dug and dug,
unearthing shells and coins and things
and fossils of dead bugs.
But new tomorrows bring the tide
washing things away,
and tunnels down to China
certainly would not stay.
So Chloe had to change her course
as far as she could tell
and instead of down to China
she’d dig to New Rochelle.
She never really had their food,
while egg rolls hit the spot.
Why Chloe wasn’t even sure
what kind of chow they’ve got.
And Minah’s don’t give up the ship
(though times I think they oughta)
and put their pails and shovels down
and just jump into the water.
Beaches are for fun and play,
and mild explorations,
but not for digging through earth’s core
to get to another nation.
Chloe Minah sat on the shore,
with a change of plans,
figuring the shortest route
to make it to Japan!
Comment misplaced, Walt (see below) ๐
Wonderful! Dr. Seuss’s best pales besides this.
wonderful indeed – exactly how kids think.
We did not try it on the beach, but we did try tunneling to China…. ๐
Do you think you could have made this any more perfect?!! WOWEE WOW WOW!!
Your Partner in Rhyme
For sure, Walt,
You have taken the muse to the beachโฆ.
and it is having a gay oโ time.
A dozen other beach-prompts have washed ashore my mental sea-side, and demanded attention โฆ so I am having a delightful poem-picnic session with each of them too. ๏. Thanks ๐
Joy
Open mouths
Eyes shiny and bright
Arms waving
Feet dancing
Kidsโ first day at the ocean
Discovering waves
Yes, pure, sweet joy :)!!
Precisely
I remember my first day at the beach and it was pure joy! Nice one.
Perfection in so few words.
๐
Nice one, Connie. Made me smile!
Marie Elena
Beach Boys
We took our grandsons to the beach
their first time outside a book to see
that vast landโs end that reached
the edge of the sky to infinity.
It was cool to see how they reacted,
four little boys from nine to two,
and how this new experience impacted
their preconceived ideas of the deep blue.
The oldest was enthralled and much too brave
he walked right in and fell in love
with salty, gritty, splashing wave,
not intimidated by its push and shove
The next oldest waded in but had his suspicions,
so only waist high. Then seeing the ocean as foe
he karate chopped each wave into submission.
All day they went at it head to toe.
The third one was timid at first, needed
Grandpa to hold him close. The surfโs slaps
he tolerated then tired and pleaded
โLetโs build sand castles or find crabs perhaps.โ
The youngest, well, he didnโt care for sand
in eyes and mouth and everywhere
he much preferred the swimming pool and
lazy river, to which the ocean could not compare.
Delightful, Walt… how many of us kids had the idea that we could dig that deep :)!!
๐ !! Wonderful, Debi!!
Great! Appears to be based on close observation.
Definitely does. Great poem, Debi!
Marie Elena
How fun, how true – wonderful that each is so different.
PS Marie, I’ll catch up with you later – it is dinner time on the West Coast. ๐
HA! We HAVE been scurrying along together for a while out here! Enjoy dinner, friend! ๐
๐ Fun prompt!!
[…] LIFE IS A BEACH โย CHILDREN-Poetic Bloomings […]
I’ll be back!! Another busy one…
Erin’s been interviewed!!! I’ll be reading that!
Warm smiles friends…wish I could stick around this A.M. to play in the sand of childhood memories. ๐
!!! ๐ !!
Warm Hannah smiles back!
XOX,
ME
โฅ!
Sand Dollar Scar
~
As an adult
sheโs nearly forgotten
the pale scar
residing in her skin,
on the upper backside of her arm;
just out of sight-
a dime-sized white sand dollar.
It only appeared on sun kissed skin,
when sheโd gotten a little tan-
then the circle would emerge.
~
On rememberingโฆ
it vaguely reminded her of her mother,
it came back in vivid flashes
like photographs,
sounds and images in her mind:
Rushing waves,
bright sunshine,
gritty sand between her toesโฆ
sparkling water droplets,
on goose flesh,
her motherโs cool skin.
She recalled marveling
at the shape and pattern,
a center sphere
with dots that encircled it,
the water pooled in the middle
of her inoculation mark.
She often looked at this
but she noticed it most at the beach
and asked her about it then
always receiving the same answer:
It was the way they used to do it,
to ward against diseasesโฆ
And sheโd always ask her mother if it hurt.
No, it was fast,
just a pinch.
~
It was in this pondering,
in her now
over her morning cup of coffee
that the memory of her own scar arose-
the shot sheโd received,
screaming on her mommyโs lap,
how sheโd struggled,
every grain of her being
working to escape
the stabbing point;
she tried so hard to wriggle from the grip
of a nurse and her mother.
She knew why sheโd liedโฆ
trying to keep her –
her baby girl,
from the reality of pain.
~
Sheโd almost forgotten the origin
of the small pale scar,
presently, a dime-sized sand dollar
existing on the golden shore of a reminiscence
on the backside of her arm.
~
Copyright ยฉ Hannah Gosselin 2013
Such an accurate, precise, and vivid picture you paint! I recall the scars, or “vashinations,” as I heard them, and the multiple stabs it took to finish the job. Never thought of then as sand dollars, though.
Oh, Hannah… your Talent… Those tiny, little pockmarks will now always remind me of your creativity!! ๐
Oh my goodness … Hannah your talent never ceases to amaze. What an incredibly creative take on the prompt, and such a wonderful, engaging read.
You wow me.
Marie Elena
Marie!!! Thank you SO much! โฅ
A sand dollar on my arm – I like that! ๐
Vacation Nightlight
Lighthouse, lighthouse in the light
Shine your beacon into the night,
Comfort all who gaze at you
Thru their window’s sheltered view.
Sound your horn to those who need it
Keep them safe… May they heed it.
I love this; it has a William Blake feel to it.
Thank you, William, you make me smile!! :)!!
At first I thought maybe this was misplaced, but then I read it differently and it really does fit the “children” prompt. Nicely done, Hen!
Meg
Thanks, Meg… yes, I thought to post it on the Lighthouse prompt, but it was a little too “sing-songy” for that one. ๐
Wonderfully written Hen. ๐
Thank you, friend :)!!
Toddlerโs Day at the Beach
The sand is hot
It burns my feet
The ocean waves
Relieve the heat
But salty sea
Goes up my nose
And mom says
Thatโs the way it goes
Inside my bathing suit
Is sandy
And the sunshine
Melts my candy
Plus my sippy cup
Got buried
Whereโs the pail I
Thought I carried?
With that kid
Way over there?!
Mommy, do I
HAVE to share?
LETโS JUST GO HOME
RIGHT NOW RIGHT NOW!!
My mom gives me
Her raised eye brow.
The sand is hot
It burns my toes
I rinse them with
The shower hose
The car is hot
My suit is wet
But Mom wonโt want
To know, I bet
I yawn and stretch
And count some sheep
Here in the car
Iโm fast asleep
I splash and play
And it sure seems
The beach is better
In my dreams.
ยฉ Copyright Marie Elena Good โ 2013
Will be catching up on reading tonight, both yesterday’s and today’s prompts. Can’t wait! In the meantime, have a grand day at the beach, kids!
:D, Isn’t it wonderful to come home to these wonderful words!?!! ๐ !!
Certainly is!!
This is fun to read. Like Debi’s, it appears to be based on close observation. Or is it memory?
Thanks William! Just observation. I spent my high school years in Naples, Florida. I remember the vast majority of little ones seemed to just love the beach. But then there were those who were obviously quite miserable. I chose to write about the poor little toddler who is just hot and miserable. ๐
Marie Elena
Aww… sweetly captured!! :)!!
It is a fun read and captures a child’s day at the beach so well.
Delightful to read. So true, so fun, so memorable.
Thanks for the kind comments, all!
Marie Elena
While Parents Make Plans…
Little
Feet sandaled and
Itching to get moving,
Tightly clasped towels, buckets
And shovels.
ยฉ Copyright Erin Kay Hope – 2013
:D!! Ahh yes… the anticipation… :)!!
๐ !!
Oh my goodness … absolutely DELIGHTFUL write! Love how you chose to use your title, “little feet sandaled” is adorable, especially coupled with “itching to get moving.” And”tightly clasped” is a perfect example of “show, don’t tell.” Bravo, Erin!!
(One little thing … if this is meant to be a cinquain, your “and” in the last line needs to move up to your 4th line. Just in case you want to enter this in the PA challenge, hint hint: http://www.writersdigest.com/whats-new/wd-poetic-form-challenge-cinquain ) ๐
Marie Elena
Yes! I saw the “and” error after posting. Thanks, Marie! ๐ I think I’ll try entering that contest. And thank you for all the compliments!
xoxo
Oh great! I’m so glad you will enter! ๐ GO ERIN!
XOX
THE BABYโS FIRST DAY AT THE BEACH
She lies within the stroller as the sun
looses its rays upon her coverlets;
her smile returns its light in happy jets,
illuminating everything. In fun
I watch her and the sun behave as one:
her play entrances me; my heart forgets
the days of storms when her bright laugh permits
the sun to shine, for she is life begun
anew. May joy be hers her whole life through;
may love enfold her soul in bold embraces;
may peace be with her, and a tender pair
of hands be always near, to warm and woo.
And, in her turn, may she witness the graces
that I see here, refreshed by salt-spun air.
copyright 2013, William Preston
Oh William, this is Wonder–ful(l)!!! Your daughter?
Thanks. No, just my imagination.
So, so lovely and heart warming. Even though she is just in your imagination, you have captured her perfectly … and I still feel compelled to hope your prayers for her are answered.
BEAUTIFULLY penned, William.
Marie Elena
[…] Written for Poetic Bloomings “Life is a Beach”ย – Day 18: Children. […]
SUMMER OF 1989
Our visits to the Cape
looked different each year
as the children grew older
gaining confidence, less fear.
The older kids played
in the sand and the surf,
while grandparents looked on.
The kids were on their turf.
The summer the baby
was just six months old
we experienced record heat
(or so I was told).
This meant holding him
was uncomfortably hot.
Our solution to cool off
was filling a lobster pot!
Out on the lawn
safely in reach,
the baby enjoyed
his form of the beach.
2013-07-18
P. Wanken
The imagery is so clear, and to me, a bit funny: cooling off in a lobster pot. I enjoyed this.
Thanks, William. SOMEwhere…I have a picture of a cute little six month old sitting in a lobster pot…from my nannying days. Glad you enjoyed it.
Oh my goodness! How adorable this is! Paula, if you find the photo, scan it in and we’ll post it with the prompt. ๐
Marie Elena (xox!)
I looked…and where it should have been, it wasn’t there. I’m thinking I pulled it to use for something when he graduated HS. :-\
Bummer. ๐ฆ I hope it shows up for you.
ME
Good news! I sent the poem to Ann (the mother of the baby in the lobster pot!) and asked her if she had a copy of the photo — she does! She’s traveling and says she’ll send it along when she gets home. ๐
Delightful… and a Nanny you were… How wonderful!! ๐ !!
Yes – I lived with the same family off & on over the course of 13 years. Sometimes full-time, other times just for the summer, and then later as a nights/weekends tutor/nanny. ๐
WONDERFUL!!! ๐ !!
Mermaids
One child
longs to be
a mermaid
in the sea.
Every year
she asks
to go
where the sea
does flow.
At every beach
she builds a castle,
at every beach
she collects the shells,
at every beach
she swims in the swells.
Even when her lips are blue
sheโll want to stay,
so we bury her in the sand
and give her a tail
but sheโs still on land.
One child
longs to be
a mermaid
in the sea.
When I was a kid I dreamed of being a Water Baby, but that was before Ariel.
This is tender and wistful, and proffers a blue mood to me. Wonderful work.
Hear, hear! Love this, Michelle.
Marie Elena
Thanks everyone!
I so agree!!
A Long Summer on Agate Beach
We walked the beach for agates,
searching through layers of kelp,
and pitching all else
into the deep currents, those
curling and whirling eddies.
We threw everything
except agates in those swirls –
granite, shale, igneous kidneous,
thatโs what we were, no kidneous,
rock-throwing kids with thoughts
of nothing but summer. Yes, that
was the summer I learnt to throw
rocks like a boy.
I never looked for agates – never knew to, though I have found several shark’s teeth. Next time for sure. Still throw like a girl though. : (
Actually had to look this up. ๐
Good stuff here, Misk. And you throw like a boy? Good on ya! ๐
Marie Elena
Love it!
!! ๐
Beach Learning
Letโs take these children to the beach
and let them run free on the shore.
Theyโll learn some things we cannot teach
and find some things they can adore.
You sit beneath this bit of shade
and mind they donโt go out too far.
Iโll bring the sand tools, bucket, spade,
to sculpt sand mermaid, castle, star.
Weโll slather sunscreen, give them hats,
then turn them loose to claim the sea.
And while theyโre occupied with that,
there might be time for you and me
to feel the foam and breathe the air,
to grin at sunlight, pocket shells
letting them trail us here and there
and volunteer their shows-and-tells.
A miracle occurs each time
the big one takes the young onesโ hands
to show them in his slowest mime
to beachcomb so each understands.
They never learn so well at home
these same sweet skills we try to teach,
for they discover, when we come,
themselves along a sunny beach.
You see that all the time – the older child showing the younger exciting stuff then they both run back to share the treasures with mom and dad. Very nice!
Yes, and it’s such a joy!
Love this, Jane. Your next-to-last stanza especially, and I love this touch;
“And while theyโre occupied with that,
there might be time for you and me”
๐
Marie Elena
This has almost a Socratic feel to it; that is learning borne of what’s known innately and steered by near-peers. Besides, it’s a joy to read and say aloud.
very nice classroom; the beach…
Classroom, Yes!!
[…] PB โKids on a Beachโ […]
I Love the Beach
I can get sand in my hair
and everywhere
splash water and be all wet
let my footprints get
all over the shore
and still Mom doesnโt roar
at me cause Iโm makinโ a mess.
I confessโฆ
I love the beach more
than spotless floors
and cleaning chores.
At the condo I remove my trunks
and sand spills out in chunks –
I cringe, but thereโs no tirade.
Mother says โLeave it for the maid.โ
Iโll say it, preach it, shout with joyful screech –
Dude, I seriously love the beach.
Wonderful. Some pleasures of the beach are unseen, eh?
Fun one!
Marie Elena
Love that last couplet…
Hee, hee… that last line!! ๐
Warning! Beach Ahead!
Watch out for the sand
itโs hot and it burns
This is the first lesson
We all quickly learn
The beach of an ocean
Or the beach of a lake
Letting the kids run ahead
Can be a mistake.
Crashing white breakers
Or gentle swells
โNot a wading poolโ
You show and you tell
Little fingers clench yours
As you enter the surf
You sit in the water
And feel the sand curve.
A sand castle project
All this sand all around
Add buckets of water
A new home you have found.
Sone will become cranky
Complain itโs too hot
Poke at their life-vests
Need to sit on the pot,
Rosy with sunburn
It is time to go home
The car fills with sand
You will clean it alone.
Best go to the mountains, it seems. I enjoyed reading this. Thanks.
Ah, Marian … you speak with the voice of experience! ๐
Marie Elena
Yes, I think she does ๐ !!
Swing Lessons (Note: Only 2 or 3 year olds allowed)
Grab a hand (one mom, one dad)
Run as fast as your chubby legs can
Let the hands lift you
And swing,
While you squeal and laugh
Over the giggling tide
Awww! This is so refreshingly sweet and wee childlike fun!
Marie Elena
Thank you Marie! I thought you might enjoy this one. Loved to do this with our kids–everyone laughed–their joy is so contagious ๐
this poem has a lot of ‘punch’ with all those verbs…
Hi Jacqueline–yep, I got a little verby ๐
Great experience for both adults and little ones.
Hi Marjory! Exactly ๐ One of my favorite memories with our kids-and my parents did it with me!
Sooo Sweet and fun!! ๐
Going to the beach
was not a dayโs special treat
it was life for me.
Raised in Island home
birth on bluff above the tide,
seeded beach in me.
Going out to play
just past open garden gate
beach was there for me.
Tide-pools, rocks and sand
sea-treasures washed up on shore
a playground for me
Growing by the sea,
water, beach swept endlessly
always part of me.
How nice! Is this true, Marjory?
Marie Elena
Yes it is. I am, in a good way, tied to the sea ๐
(first years, Kodiak, Alaska)
How wonderful! The beach is such a fabulous playground. Love that phrase “seeded beach in me” the whole poem has a nice meter like the ebb and flow of the sea:-)
Thanks Sara, The Naani Form is a fun quick expression (Rhyme is used just cause I like to do so)
How Wonderful for you!! :)!!
Life’s a Beach – Children
Rosalie’s Beach
My baby girl, she waddles to the shore;
quick! catch her ‘fore she rolls into the sea!
On sandy beach, she blows her bubbles more;
upon her lips a laughing song must be.
My little one who loves the rush of wave
she giggles now; her bonnet all askew.
She’s fallen in the sand; she’ll not behave;
this little fish would charm the ocean blue.
She frolics by the wanton sea; my girl
But soon she’ll sleep ; my precious Rosalie.
Her briny diapers huddle and they swirl;
the washing wave has tossed them and they flee!
Now, nod, my little tadpole, in the sun;
your life; your song; your miracle’s begun.
Jacqueline, this is just perfection. It is all here … perfect form, excellent word choices, and tear-inducing love.
In my top 3 favorites of the day, and that is saying much.
Marie Elena
Such a wonderful picture….
Jacqueline such a sweet and beautifully written poem–really loved this ๐
Yes, just lovely!!
Thanks, wanting to bring a tear to your eye, lol…
Time Limits
Parents have so many rules. I cannot
go swimming because I just ate an egg?
And then there are the time limits. An egg,
maybe a fifteen minute wait, but a sandwich
and fruit? Forget it, Iโd have to wait
until next summer. โCourse I could go
to the edge and make some mud pies,
then sneak into the water. Nah, theyโd know.
They always seem to know. Still, I hope
summer lasts forever. Maybe longer!
LOL! Told like a true kid! ๐
Marie Elena
Because I still am!
Hi Sara, OH yes, Parents have eyes in the back of their heads! It is good they teach us limits – but oh how the ocean calls. ๐ Your poem brings back good memories. ๐
Ha, ha… Yes, how the ocean calls!! ๐
I am glad!
[…] R […]
[…] Written for Poetic Bloomings, Day 18.ย […]