Sunday, August 14, 2011

Poem #532

Seaside

Air, tinged with the sharp smell of salt, wafted toward you,
Traveling from the depths of the crashing blue,
Which washes upon the grainy shores on which you stand.
The rough touch of warm sand flows in between your bare toes,
Scraping pleasurably against the soles of your feet.
Rushing wind, pounding waves, the high-pitched call of gulls,
The symphony of nature rings constantly in your ears.
Listen close; you dare not miss a second.

Wash your troubles away in the crystal clear waters,
Letting the crisp, cool liquid lightly caress your skin.
Flowing in, engulfing quickly, pulling away into the abyss,
Daring you to follow its enticing call further into the calm blue.
Silent message, be at peace, let it take you,
As you drink in the surroundings till your thirst is quenched.
Tug me in, make me go, into the unconquered beyond.
Float in the balance between reality and imagination.

Take me in, keep me there in you grasp,
The voices, the rush of the crowds does not stir my mind.
Sit in a trance, beauty driven daze,
Time frozen, a still life does not move on.
The seaside holds a wondrous power, an inexplicable magic,
Calls us in with an unseen force of undeniable power.
Nature’s beauty knows no bounds,
And entraps us in its mighty embrace.

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