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laila shaaban Apr 2018
The sun shines through the thick canopies of tall trees,
While the autumn breeze rustles the leaves making you feel at ease.
As the honeybees buzz by your ears,
And the crickets chirp without responsibility,
All in perfect harmony with the calming birdsong
All happily singing along creating a melody often mistaken for stridency.
Long blades of grass swaying in the gentle breeze dancing to the rhythm beautifully. Climb the tallest willow tree and look out towards the swirling sea,
And admire the way the ocean refuses to stop kissing the shoreline
No matter how many times its sent away.
The enchanting ocean with the blue sky above
Adorn by the soft luminous clouds
Which can only be seen through the eyes of a dreamer
The clouds are to the sky as creamer is to coffee watch it flow,
Doesn’t it make you feel happy?
The way they are perfectly imperfect, intertwining together.
Just like the trees,
Which can be bent in several ways yet still look better than any architectural design. The grass is never leveled
No tree is like the next, this one withering, and this one growing.
No two hills are identical
Yet every atom is a miracle,
Every creature irremovable, exceptional.
Each helping in their own way completing this cycle we call life.
Amidst all this chaos lies its beauty yet customarily dismissed.
With realizing that Nature is enticing and mesmerizing,
With realizing that beauty surrounds us.
By keeping our hearts free from hate and our mind of worry.
By living simply and scattering sunshine.
Happiness will only be a heartbeat away.
Poetic T Nov 2017
Woven within your
embodiment
of tenderness.

I swim slowly
in the waters
of your aphrodisia.

And after I slumbered
on the beach of
your clasping arms.

Sleeping on the waves
of your beating heart
I find peace, within you.
Poetic T Nov 2017
Syllables collect like vacant shells
           on a shore of nonconformity.

Willing the thoughts now washing up
             to be converged vividly.


     We gaze at many horizons,
collecting upon us, are we to be
                               washed away...

Or will our reflections be that
       which we swim within,
               be that which we heed in word..
Kevin Feb 2017
i hear your screams
and unsung songs
above the flying tide
and in the foam
frothing free
you'll feel my earthly touch

dont push away
from the shore
with hands of grassy sand
reach out to me
with shades of blue
and striping dissonance

and when they mix
to form anew
place alone in time
you'll wonder where
the colors went and
how we learned to fly
Jack Jenkins Jun 2016
Maybe it will be nice
To cross my legs and sit at the water's edge
Breathe in... Breathe out
Let the water surrounded me
Surrender myself to the rising tide
And let all the thoughts I have of you
All the feelings swirling in my heart
Wash away in the force of the ocean
Every sea creature mourn with me
And my ghost seen on the full moon
Legendary broken heart foretold
For all generations
Ralph Albors May 2014
The waves softly kiss the shoreline.
Water sprinkles and mixes with sand,
Only to return to the unknown.
Again, the waves gingerly kiss the shoreline.

A dog runs, a ball soars, teens play.
Pigeons flutter, mosquitos bite, friends drink.
Bliss and euphoria take over
As we race to the littoral.

Clouds move, the sun shines, we cavort.
Birds chirp, boats roar, folks laugh.
The clement, alluring day promises pleasure
While the amaranthine tide collides with the coast.

The waves gently kiss the shoreline.
Jubilant faces of elated people
Are scattered around the waterfront
While the waves delicately kiss the shoreline.
First try at describing a setting through poetry. Let me know what you think!
xoK Apr 2014
I want to throw a tantrum.
Scream and shout
And kick things that don't need to be kicked.
The bones of my knuckles and hips poke out
A little     m  o  r  e
Than they did before.
My finger rings and hip-hugging jeans slip,
Not quite fitting the same way they had.
My skeleton creeping its way ever so slightly
Closer to the surface
Like it wants to get out
And   r u n    to    h e r.

Self-diagnosis: Lovesick.
Before, we were a storybook fairytale
But now our make-believe has something to latch onto.
Like a parasite.
More real
And more torturous
Than the existence of my past self.
I can't crave food the same way I can crave her touch.
My stomach shipwreck still feels the memories
Like they were yesterday's meal.
Has it really been a month?
My emotions ebb and flow
Along the shoreline of my consciousness.
Lovesickness courses through my veins
And through the vessel in my chest
Until I fall into a slumber
And in my dreams I have her once again
*If only for a moment.
LDR life. Lovesickness is real.

— The End —