July 29thAs the sky changes and your surroundings get muted and hazy, write about the silhouette that is set before you. Bring the shadow out of the shadows and into the light of your muse. What is this silhouette?



July 28 – Driftwood

July 27 – Horizons

July 26 – Watersports

July 25 – Collecting Seashells

July 24 – Sunburn/Suntan (Rondeau)

89 thoughts on “LIFE IS A BEACH – SILHOUETTE


    Across the sea,
    across the sky,
    it gives the lie
    to entropy;
    its floating glee
    while passing by
    makes what of why
    and one of we.
    I cannot rue
    its gliding pause:
    its scimitar
    cuts straight and true
    through all the gauze
    of what we are.

    copyright 2013, William Preston

  2. Reluctant Sails

    Sun baked ripples
    Wrestle under a cool southbound silhouette set in motion

    Silent sails sadly flapping set for home
    And violent wind
    Under a muted sky
    Extinguished Sun
    Aching at heart
    Waving goodbye

    Vowing to return another day
    To bring forth sure pleasures
    Warmth of song, laughter and play

    The Sun still dancing, shimmers yellow, yawning along the sleepy horizon
    Slowly trading with the
    Crawling of the night

    Creepy shadows strengthened, flex atop
    rolling waves that push away the former memory

    Reluctant sails catch wind of things to come.

  3. We got home last night and this prompt was waiting for me. It’s good to be back! 🙂

    Sailboat Silhouette (a Garland)

    One small
    Sailboat drifts lazily
    On the glassy sea’s surface
    At sunset;

    Such a
    Little sailboat
    To cast such long black
    Shadow across the heaving waves
    Of blue,

    As black as pitch,
    Showing up quite clearly
    Against the orange backdrop of
    The sky,

    After the day’s
    Long fishing excursion,
    Bobbing gracefully in the wind
    Like the

    Slow waves
    Themselves, drinking
    In the last of the sun’s
    Rays as it slowly sets; it just
    Stands out;

    One small
    Little sailboat,
    Showing up quite clearly,
    Bobbing gracefully in the wind,
    Stands out.

    © Copyright Erin Kay Hope – 2013


    It stands to sea in silhouette:
    the lighthouse, sturdy, robust yet,
    but nonetheless it shines no beam
    to warn of shoals. I can’t forget

    the sight it was: its pencilled gleam
    a straight and sweeping yellow theme
    that drew me homeward through the night.
    But now those times are but a dream.

    By day it seems a forlorn sight,
    but in the evening’s dearth of light
    it sometimes glistens at sunset,
    as though to set the story aright.

    copyright 2013, William Preston


    A scene from a movie screen,
    cinemascope and technicolor,
    surround sound and Dolby®
    in an Imax® theater. Larger
    than life. The embraces look
    bigger. The exchanges look
    bigger. The problems look
    bigger. Our hero solves the world
    in an hour and forty-seven
    ticks of the clock. Stock footage,
    A kiss for luck and goodbye,
    he lets out a regret filled sigh,
    and she starts to cry. Other
    adventures of life await and it’s great
    we had that time to spend.
    But in the end, my horse plods off
    into the sunset. A figure in
    silhouette. Fade to black…

  6. Pingback: Silhouette | echoes from the silence

  7. Life is a Beach – Silhouette

    A rippled, waving water touching sand
    as early, breaking light, the rising sun
    leaves profile of your face against my hand.
    You! standing on this shore; our life begun.

    So, now your face, still shadow on this beach:
    a memory; a shining silhouette;
    the soul of one whose memory would teach
    of arms and love that never I’ll forget.

    Risen sun, now full upon horizon;
    the tide is rushing out, you slip away.
    And, fading is that startled light that sung
    yet mist of memory reminds my days.

    So silhouetted ‘gainst remembered skies;
    that love I saw in shadow of your eyes.

  8. Afternoon Beach Walk

    Dark fun-house
    mirror on the sand,
    us, short-topped
    but long-legged
    silhouettes stretch like dark beasts
    joined at swinging hands.

  9. Word as Shadow

    our words are
    dark birds that
    wing through night
    blurred shadows
    flying blind

    hollow sounds
    dried bamboo
    vacant of
    images of
    life’s meaning
    our making

    In late day
    as fierce light
    rages, dies
    in slate gray
    we must be
    careful what
    we say when
    we are tired.

  10. This piece has only three punctuation marks, and one capital. I see this from time to time, and it usually throws me off, causing me to stop reading and look for them. May I ask what your idea is in using so few? Aside from that, the notion of words as shadows is another fascinating original construct, at least to me, and I like the connection of :”flying blind” with “tired.”

    • Thanks, Bill. I was in a hurry 😉 I had not planned on using any caps or marks at all, but sometimes the English teacher in me just exerts itself. I wanted the words to run together and be separated by readers, the way words themselves can be strung together in a meaningless fashion, like a riddle. In that way, I thought words would be silhouettes, not themselves exactly but whatever we think they mean. Thus, the reference to being careful… It’s a rough draft–what can I say?

      • Thanks for the clarification, Jane. I suspected that your original intent was not to punctuate or capitalize. I’ve never tried that.

    (melody: Alouette)

    Silhouette, gentle silhouette,
    silhouette, I wonder who you are.

    I wonder if you’re strong, not meek:
    strong, not meek; strong not meek,
    silhouette, silhouette!

    Silhouette, gentle silhouette,
    silhouette, I wonder who you are.

    I wonder if you’re just a geek:
    just a geek; just a geek;
    strong, not meek; strong not meek,
    silhouette, silhouette!

    Silhouette, gentle silhouette,
    silhouette, I wonder who you are.

    I wonder if it’s me you seek:
    me you seek; me you seek;
    just a geek; just a geek;
    strong, not meek; strong not meek,
    silhouette, silhouette!

    Silhouette, gentle silhouette,
    silhouette, I wonder who you are.

    I won’t sing more, it takes a week:
    takes a week; takes a week;
    me you seek; me you seek;
    just a geek; just a geek;
    strong, not meek; strong not meek,
    silhouette, silhouette!

    Silhouette, drat you, silhouette,
    silhouette, I don’t care who you are.

    Wouldn’t dare copyright this.

  12. Silhouettes

    of oranges and reds.

    Palm tree swaying
    Lovers kissing
    Children dancing
    Old man fishing
    Bird gliding
    Family bicycling
    Jetty reaching

    No need for details.
    We already know.


    recede over
    wet grey sand

    sea gulls
    form silhouettes against

    sunset glow
    of evening calm.

  14. Pingback: Hello | Metaphors and Smiles

  15. Hello
    Nearly nights like these,
    they’re written
    in brevity
    of pure beauty.
    These early evenings,
    they’re printed
    in poignant profiles
    slender slipping dimness
    stretches to the sea.
    Long visual songs
    belong to shadows,
    they reach out their fingers
    to the outer most edges-
    figures grasp for open ocean.
    An outline alone holds no name
    out of context without its host,
    a ghost of its former self.
    Is it a tall bank of pale dune grass
    sending shoots of willowy darkness
    to crawl across the sand?
    Or should this shape be so familiar-
    as easily recognized
    as one’s next close breath?
    Yes, I see her now,
    here she is…
    we must become acquainted again.
    I remember this form now…
    it’s plied in a child’s hand-
    scribbled in colored chalk
    upon the pavement…
    so many long ago yesterdays.
    It’s practiced in bouncy steps
    elongated giggly legs and alligator arms-
    this play thing of shadow-shows.
    She’s the first friend I ever met
    with her thumb sucking silhouette
    scribed on the crimson inside
    of my mother’s giving womb.
    She’s me.
    I wave hello.
    Copyright © Hannah Gosselin 2013

  16. Trace

    Do you see her? She’s here
    all year, silhouette set
    against these silken sands.
    When summer spills in, she
    starts to fill in, hued in blue
    and green and gold. She’s
    told her tales and sold her
    sails for a tiny beach bungalow.
    Waves flow, and she knows
    she has but a breath to be
    -gin, spin her sway and sing
    her song. And when the sun
    sparks across the Lake just
    so, she sees it’s been here
    all along.


  17. Pingback: Trace | Whimsygizmo's Blog

  18. Wings

    A silhouette of former self
    against the morning sky,
    Recalls a frame I won’t forget
    Or the reasons why.

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