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Posts Tagged ‘ocean’

Carnival

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On waves of teal sea-shine

we catch a glossy ride

to chase our lost horizons

and race the rising tide.

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We lean to gather white-caps

and taste their salty plumes

till purple weaves a blanket

and wraps us ’round the moon.

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(c) 1992, 2020  Betty Hayes Albright

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Once upon an April

when the sea

was surging high

she said that nothing happened

but it did,

it did,

it did.

And when the tide withdrew

she lived ever after

remembering the rise

of happily.

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© 2014, 2018  Betty Hayes Albright

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(re-posted from 2014)

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I would be the tide

that moves your sea

as waves of you

go breaking through my soul,

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and you – the gust of wind

that plays my flute

would hear my drumming

in the ocean’s roll.

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(c) 1995, 2018  Betty Hayes Albright

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(a re-post from 2015)

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It rolls in to me

one fresh churned wave

of salt-laden soup

in mussel shell blue

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with armor of chiton

in sea-weed sway

and twists of driftwood

on layers of foam

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bringing crab legs and agates

in dustings of gold

that buckle and rattle

kaleidoscope stones

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and as barnacles yawn

to taste the high tide

it rolls in the next one

for you.

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© 1993, 2018 Betty Hayes Albright

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(a re-write of “Beach” from 1993)

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IMG_4814

Marina Beach in Edmonds, Washington (on Puget Sound).

 

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1957

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When I was ten

all the rides

at Disneyland

could not compare

with that first sight,

that maiden rush

across the sand,

my first kiss

of the sea.

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©  2012, 2017  Betty Hayes Albright

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(a re-post from 2012)

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img_4997

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Rocks balanced with care

always aiming for the sky

never mind the tide.

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© 2017  Betty Hayes Albright 

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(Came upon this unfinished cairn on the beach one day….)

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I would be the tide

that moves your sea

as waves of you

go breaking through my soul,

and you – the gust of wind

that plays my flute

would hear my drumming

in the ocean’s roll.

.

(c) 1995, 2018  Betty Hayes Albright

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(a re-post)

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And so I have gone down

to the salty, briny air

where the surf tumbles the sand

and the wind combs through my hair,

where the seagulls dip and squabble

and the pocket pools grow warm

and the starfish nuzzle rocks

as the tide begins to turn,

where the sun lights through each wave

as it surrenders to the sea

and the sky steams into purple

and the night spits stars to me.

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(c) 1992, 2014 Betty Hayes Albright

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To the Sea

(Re-post from last August – formerly titled “Ilwaco, Washington”)

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And so I have gone down

to the salty, briny air

where the surf tumbles the sand

and the wind combs through my hair,

where the seagulls dip and squabble

and the pocket pools grow warm

and the starfish nuzzle rocks

as the tide begins to turn,

where the sun lights through each wave

as it surrenders to the sea

and the sky steams into purple

and the night spits stars to me.

.

(c) 1992, 2012 Betty Hayes Albright

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1957, trip to California

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When I was ten,

all the rides

at Disneyland

could not compare

with that first sight,

that maiden rush

across the sand –

that first kiss

of the sea.

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©  2012, 2017  Betty Hayes Albright 

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