Friday, July 29, 2011

At the Beach - a beach poem

At the Beach
by
Greg Pincus

Tide pools. Shell walks. Drippy sand.
White capped breakers hitting land.
Body surfing. Miles to walk.
Joining in as seabirds talk.
Cooling breeze. Bright warm sun.
Nothing here that must be done.
Toys and tech inside, ignored.
On the beach I'm never bored.

This week's Poetry Friday Roundup is over at the Book Aunt. Go on over and check out the poetic goodies (including two originals by the host, Kate Coombs).

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6 comments:

Irene Latham said...

This is disturbing, but I have noticed a good bit of "tech" at the beaches this year! Folks are willing to brave salt and sand to stay plugged in... sigh. Thanks for sharing your poem!

tanita davis said...

Oh, I LONG to simply go to the beach instead of packing for our move. Thank you for getting my brain there, if nothing else..

Rasco from RIF said...

Ah, this poem brings back so many memories of warm climate beaches visited with my grandparents! Thanks, Greg!

Rita said...

Lovely.
Thank you. :)

Myra Garces-Bacsal from GatheringBooks said...

One of the great things I love about Poetry Friday is that it leads me to your poems - with its cryptic quality, its staccato-like images, and the beautiful way that everything just goes together. Again, thanks for sharing.

GrandCanyonReadingTeacher said...

I'm an Arizona desert rat, and I had no use for Florida until we were "forced" to move there so my husband to do an internship. We lived in Cape Coral, 40 minutes from Sanibel Island and Fort Myers beaches. Your poem pictures the beaches exactly. Especially your last line, "At the beach I'm never bored". I also remember the great, puffy clouds that rolled in every summer afternoon, signaling time to go home before the ferocious thunderstorm would hit.
Back in AZ now, and thinking of the beach!
Thanks, Greg!