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 – SUNSET

July 30thOne last look reveals the most incredible sunset you’ve ever witnessed. Make it your poem!

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KEEPING UP WITH THE WAVES

July 29 – Silhouette

July 28 – Driftwood

July 27 – Horizons

July 26 – Watersports

July 25 – Collecting Seashells

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95 thoughts on “LIFE IS A BEACH – SUNSET

  1. Marjory MT on said:

    SUNSET (FIBONACCI)

    A
    red
    sunset,
    touched with gold
    captured in clouds
    as the sun rests on horizon
    and a purple sky turns deep blue
    while one by one stars
    seek a place
    beside
    the
    moon.

  2. Mingling Of The Ruling Lights

    The clearest case of opposites, these two,
    Their circuits charted through the skies of time,
    All silver-white and orange-gold with blue
    And black to blend their fall and aid their climb;

    She graces night and spreads her silver sheen
    Across the hearts of sleeping beings below,
    Weaves dreams and smiles as the softest queen,
    Content to let her love put on the show;

    He rules the day with heat and brightest light,
    A mighty king astride his steed of gold,
    His banner blue, his cloudy beard of white,
    His gaze is keen, his passions strong and bold;

    They join their hands as day slips into night,
    The sky’s ablaze: the ming’ling of the light.

    © Copyright Erin Kay Hope – 2013

  3. RAGE AGAINST THE DYING OF THE LIGHT

    A spark inflamed released and tamed
    through the brilliance it had provided.
    He couldn’t hide it under a bushel basket,
    since deciding to bask in the glow
    of other like lights sparked by the same flame.
    Fire will consume all while it is fueled.
    But it will eventually be extinguished,
    in a very undistinguished fizzle,
    doused by a drizzle of tears and jeers,
    anger and indignation; any placation
    to render an ember to remain to warm
    the hearts and minds of those who
    remember through to December and beyond.
    And in the darkness of days, the dying light
    will glow in every soul touched by his words.
    The sun will set on a mind well endowed
    from whence poetry flowed. But love
    will continue to grow where its seed is planted.
    For even love long lost, is still love.

  4. Pingback: Celebrated Daily | Metaphors and Smiles

  5. Celebrated Daily
    ~
    She’s a diva
    a daytime star.
    She has that alluring look in her eye,
    dressed to impress
    shades of fuchsia and lavender-
    a swathe of colorful beauty adorns her eyelid .
    Her beach cheek is lit with sparkles…
    the ocean has bejeweled her with shells
    gifts from the secretive sea.
    When day is finally worn with adoring
    her thin eye rests on horizon
    and with one last seducing glance
    she slips away
    clothed in slinky black…
    blink.
    Lunar moon will arrive
    with a dramatic attempt.
    Trying to steal the show?
    ~
    Copyright © Hannah Gosselin 2013

  6. William Preston on said:

    SUNDOWN AT OCEANSIDE

    As sunset soothes the sand with golden light,
    the pinks and purples parse the evening air;
    the glare of day accepts the gifts of night
    and quiet comes, to settle everywhere.

    The pinks and purples parse the evening air,
    caressing roses on the upper beach,
    and quiet comes, to settle everywhere
    like ancient dreams forever out of reach.

    Caressing roses on the upper beach,
    I scan the sea as sunshine fades away
    like ancient dreams, forever out of reach,
    that sigh and turn to face another day.

    I scan the sea as sunshine fades away;
    the glare of day accepts the gifts of night
    that sigh and turn to face another day,
    as sunset soothes the sand with golden light.

    copyright 2013, William Preston

  7. Heavens opened
    Clouds lit up
    I looked for feet

  8. William Preston on said:

    REGRET

    The sunset cloaks the land
    with rosy-colored veil;
    a comet brightens space
    suspended by its tail;
    moonlight washes the sky
    and stars glow high and glad;
    but nary a single one
    can succor love gone bad.

    copyright 2013, William Preston

  9. William Preston on said:

    A GATHERING OF FRIENDS ON THE NEW ENGLAND SHORE

    A cemetery sits upon a hill
    above the winter beach. The stones are old
    and weather-worn, nondescript and cold;
    although no name appears above each sill,
    the rows are orderly, an act of will
    imposed upon the wild, yet gently rolled
    along the ground to greet the wisps of gold
    that sunset brings. Everything is still.
    Beyond it stands the meetinghouse, a place
    where both front doors are open, swinging free,
    allowing creatures of the day and night
    to enter, as do I. Warmth fills my face
    as sundown enters too, enfolding me
    completely, holding me softly in the light.

    copyright 2013, William Preston

  10. Pingback: Unknown Horizon | echoes from the silence

  11. Marjory MT on said:

    SUNSET

    The color of her hair – like a gentle bank of white clouds. Her native skin a touch of the evening sky. Eyes that sparkle like stars. Lips the color of sunset on water. Her life the sun that warmed the lives of all she touched.

    Days are now ending
    beautiful memories linger
    where peace can reside.

  12. LIFE IS A BEACH – SUNSET

    “A Goodbye Sunset”

    His father died and mom returned to stay;
    she’d packed her car and driven all alone
    to western coast from Carolina home.
    She wavered, fragile at her age, but strong!

    Both stuffed their pain so tight; it startled him.
    No words between them when she did arrive.
    He held her close; no thoughts were passed between.
    What does one say about the end of life?

    So, Dad was gone. He felt such pain because
    He’d not been there to say goodbye or help.
    If only there was time for just few words
    to say goodbye to father he adored.

    “Let’s drive the beach; he wants his ashes there”.
    They parked the car and walked through high ravine;
    thick, overhanging branches intervened;
    that spiraled forward to approaching beach.

    The setting sun through tunnel’s op`ning glowed;
    light floated brighter than an angel’s wing;
    was filled with sparkling, many-colored tones.
    If light could sing, his song is what they heard.
    Then came that rush of tears made by the surf
    as mother-child did celebrate his birth.

  13. janeshlensky on said:

    The Genesis of Finger-painting

    His big fingers
    dip into the vats
    of pigments, buds of
    rainbows in pots,
    bold orange, rose,
    thundered purple,
    red and gold,
    one color in each;
    raising His hand
    before his face,
    He smiles, running
    His fingers across
    the sky at close of day,
    painting with light,
    His Earth twirling
    like a top around His sun,
    making the colors swirl
    and blend, brilliant,
    feeling beauty clutch
    at His great heart.
    And that was good.

  14. Memories Rise with the Setting Sun

    A sun that sets and disappears intro the western sea
    Its golden, glittery path might lead into eternity
    But in our hearts we know that spender and that glow
    Will rise again tomorrow and the scene will show
    That same broad band of colors on a path so bright
    Riding on the waters from morning until night.

    Sunlight may slip away but will soon enough return.
    All new and brightly shining – that lesson we have learned.
    It is we who are the one that face eternal gloom
    To disappear from this earth abruptly and too soon.
    Our last impressions might not be what we would choose to hear
    When for all eternity we will hear that echo in our ear…
    So if possible we will try to be remembered with a smile
    That lingers, like the sunset’s path, for just a little while.

  15. Golden Ball Bouncing into Nothing

    Ride off into
    something all melty and
    crimson and gold, if you want to.

    Or slip-slide soft,
    heart held high, aloft
    into this shallow shimmering sea.

    Me,
    I’m gonna use
             (abuse)
    this last light
    to write
    my sandy fingers
    into oblivion, slake my
    Lake ache thirst with ink
    and tears and song, wrap
    these last warm rays in
    silent praise around my
    shoulders.

    It smolders, sighs
    and sets.
    But we,
    not finished yet
    embrace slate
    and wait
    for moon.

    .

  16. Pingback: Golden Ball Bouncing into Nothing | Whimsygizmo's Blog

  17. Sealed Sunset

    The day has been sealed,
    tightly bound by sunset.

    But I still reminisce, languishing on the things revealed by her light.

    Captivated by her golden glow
    and rubescent scenery.

    I remain admiring extensively the amber blushed skies, fading orange hues humming yellow tunes goodbye.

    At my heels, nightly creatures now draw nigh to pry and steal the moment in my eyes

    But I can’t resist her fiery retreat.
    The esse of her rays still lingers lightly prancing on my skin.

    As if it were hard for her to let go.
    There I remained for some time.

    Watching her slowly simmer over the horizon. I soaked in every minute until her presence was fully withdrawn.

    There I stayed mourning. Reminiscing and languishing on the things revealed by her light.

    Until nightfall mocked her departure.

  18. Marjory MT on said:

    “…Watching her slowly simmer over the horizon. …”
    That, to me, is always a special moment.

  19. Magnificent Sunset

    Stand on sand,
    people flocking
    as gulls, all facing
    forward at darkening
    sea. Seek out shades
    shifting in sky, striped
    across a ball of fiery
    red, slowly sinking,
    blinking last light across
    the ocean, watching
    us gasp in quiet awe,
    standing on sand
    in the magnificent
    beauty of Carmel.

  20. SUNSET

    Swirling ribbons of color
    dance crazily before the sun
    as it settles beneath the sea
    looking for tomorrow’s children.

  21. The sun sets
    behind the cloudy, dust trails
    left by her galloping steeds.

  22. Pingback: RAGE AGAINST THE DYING OF THE LIGHT | THROUGH THE EYES OF A POET'S HEART

  23. Henrietta Choplin on said:

    Watchful

    In the sunset of our years
    the warmth glowed
    colorful
    through our tears.

    And in our sandy blanket
    warm
    the grains embedded,
    smoothly shorn.

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