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 Apr 2017 SallyS
CK Baker
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what about the gull
                          with a wayward splash
or the balanced blend
of cirrus and ash

foghorns throw
the pock wave
sewell stragglers
and bonny boats
earn their keep
She wears an old fashioned shawl
laced wool of camomile
flecked with seeds of apple pip brown.
Wading shin deep with stork length legs, though lacking all brittleness,
she hems the thirsty sand line of shore
that's forever sipping foam
and swishing froth from the sea's diaphragmatic shifting.
The drag of each stride breaking
v's in their wake
all too soon dissipates
only to be replaced
with every surge and **** and lull.
She recites a poem as she treads the shallows
Hardly a whisper above a whisper
Blending lullaby syllables with the rhythmic surety of the tide.
Every word a billowed sail
carrying the craft of verse upon ripples and surf
back to the memory of one long lost across the sea.
form my book "There is one here for you"
my soul washed upon a beach
after many years at sea
it is bleached and hollow
worn too smooth
like shells that batter each other
along the shoreline
and in the early hours
when the Sun provides enough light
you find me
and place me in your bag
with stones and lost treasures
that you would later admire
and add to your display
or simply toss aside
 Apr 2017 SallyS
Hannah
The Sea
 Apr 2017 SallyS
Hannah
I'm going to live
in a house by the sea,
to gaze at the water,
and find peace
within me.
I'm going to wander,
the shores of forever,
to collect little sea shells
that hold secrets of thunder.
I'm roaming the shore,
to hear the sea roar,
with its kindness,
and power,
it cries forever more.
It's a place to find peace,
beneath its blue deep,
but it will swallow you whole,
if you perceive it as weak.
It's a place of wonder,
with its swimming baby flounders,
with its sand dollars,
and salmon,
its salty blue water.
If you gaze at it long enough,
you'll stare at it forever,
and finally find peace,
within all its wonder.
This sea has been rolling,
it's older than thunder.
It has wisdom for those,
who respect all its power,
but it takes lying on its shores,
when you are seeking shelter,
and resting your head
when you're in need of slumber.
This place is a refuge
in the heat of summer.
You can gaze at the water,
and swim with the flounders,
or lay there,
and dream,
lost in its wonder,
in these rolling tides
of salty blue water.
I'm going to the sea.
 Apr 2017 SallyS
Jonathan Witte
The air is warmer
at the river’s edge.

The insects cloud
around your head,

and the white cottage,
the one your wife’s
father built by hand,

seems to be burning
in the afternoon sun.

The hammock strung
between two dogwood
trees twists in the wind.

There should be no shame
in recollecting the songs
she sang when the children

were young and unpredictable,
how they splashed in shallow
water, catching minnows.

Why not close your eyes
and imagine you hear her
calling from the other side?

The slap of a fish jumping
is like a palm to your cheek.

Out there, in the middle of it all,
silver scales flash in clear water—

a contorted shadow swims below,
hooked to impossible brightness.
 Apr 2017 SallyS
bones
A certain song the sea wind knows
it sends thru puckered lips,

like kisses blown, across the bows
of drowsing sailing ships;

and stirs their sleepy sails
from their slumber with it's tune,

unfurls their folded petals
and brings them back in bloom.
 Apr 2017 SallyS
beth fwoah dream
i dream of the sea,
whispering like a wild cloud,
stretching the blue air.
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