Best Beach Poems

Don't go far off, not even for a day, because -
because - I don't know how to say it: a day is long
and I will be waiting for you, as in an empty station
when the trains are parked off somewhere else, asleep.
...

Leaning into the afternoons I cast my sad nets
towards your oceanic eyes.

There in the highest blaze my solitude lengthens and flames,
...

Here on the Hard, you're welcome to pull up and stay;
there's a flat fee of a quid for parking all day.

And wandering over the dunes, who wouldn't die
...

TWO boats with nets lying off the sea-beach, quite still,
Ten fishermen waiting- they discover a thick school of mossbonkers-
they drop the join'd seine-ends in the water,
The boats separate and row off, each on its rounding course to the
...

I’m a happy dog at the beach
If I had the power of speech
I would tell you all
To throw my ball
...

I thought of you and how you love this beauty,
And walking up the long beach all alone
I heard the waves breaking in measured thunder
As you and I once heard their monotone.
...

I wait for the holiday crowd to clear the beach
before stepping onto the first wave.

Soon I am walking across the Atlantic
...

The grey sea and the long black land;
And the yellow half-moon large and low;
And the startled little waves that leap
In fiery ringlets from their sleep,
...

A porcupine skin,
Stiff with bad tanning,
It must have ended somewhere.
Stuffed horned owl
...

Oh you gatherer
      of the fine ash of poetry
            ash of the too-white flame
                  of poetry
...

The roaring alongside he takes for granted,
and that every so often the world is bound to shake.
He runs, he runs to the south, finical, awkward,
in a state of controlled panic, a student of Blake.
...

That distant valley
Far below
Was I...as a child
........Eons ago
...

Across the lonely beach we flit,
One little sandpiper and I,
And fast I gather, but by bit,
The scattered drift-wood, bleached and dry.
...

I would've perhaps liked to swim in you O' sea
only if sharks and octopi didn't inhabit thee

Perhaps I would've swum and dived deeper in glee
...

My hero bares his nerves along my wrist
That rules from wrist to shoulder,
Unpacks the head that, like a sleepy ghost,
Leans on my mortal ruler,
...

The sun is a beach ball covered in sand,
Warming up this little land.
It's been kicked into the blue sky,
By a boy on the beach, that kicked it too high.
...

Schizophrenic, wrenched by two styles,
one a hack's hired prose, I earn
me exile. I trudge this sickle, moonlit beach for miles,
...

The night-flood rakes upon the stony shore;
Along the rugged cliffs and chalky caves
Mourns the hoarse Ocean, seeming to deplore
All that are buried in his restless waves—
...

Ever been kidnapped
by a poet
...

ON the beach, at night,
Stands a child, with her father,
Watching the east, the autumn sky.
...

Left on the beach
Full of water
A worn out boat
Reflects the white sky --
...

He stood, a worn-out City clerk --
Who'd toil'd, and seen no holiday,
For forty years from dawn to dark --
Alone beside Caermarthen Bay.
...

I WILL take an egg out of the robin's nest in the orchard,
I will take a branch of gooseberries from the old bush in the garden,
and go and preach to the world;
You shall see I will not meet a single heretic or scorner,
...

When all my five and country senses see,
The fingers will forget green thumbs and mark
How, through the halfmoon's vegetable eye,
Husk of young stars and handfull zodiac,
...

On the seashore of endless worlds children meet.
The infinite sky is motionless overhead and the restless water is boisterous. On the seashore of endless worlds the children meet with shouts and dances.
...

Twenty-eight young men bathe by the shore,
Twenty-eight young men and all so friendly;
Twenty-eight years of womanly life and all so lonesome.
...

Now that I have your face by heart, I look
Less at its features than its darkening frame
Where quince and melon, yellow as young flame,
Lie with quilled dahlias and the shepherd's crook.
...

Oh, to be lying,
On a beach,
Somewhere,
With sand in my toes,
...

Tears! tears! tears!
In the night, in solitude, tears;
On the white shore dripping, dripping, suck'd in by the sand;
...

There’s a lonely stretch of hillocks:
There’s a beach asleep and drear:
There’s a battered broken fort beside the sea.
There are sunken trampled graves:
...

Oh, not the loss of the accomplished thing!
Not dumb farewells, nor long relinquishment
Of beauty had, and golden summer spent,
And savage glory of the fluttering
...

Early March.
The cold beach deserted. My kids
home in a bare house, bundled up
and listening to rock music
...

my silence is a speech

in my eyes you could read,
...

Back From Beauteous Normandy….

I still remember the light blue skies
touches the bright seablue horizon
...

Something this foggy day, a something which
Is neither of this fog nor of today,
Has set me dreaming of the winds that play
Past certain cliffs, along one certain beach,
...

Words are like flowers.
Each one gives its own fragrance,
And imparts its own beauty.
...

We must suffer, husband and father, we must suffer, daughter and son,
For the wrong we have taken part in and the wrong that we have seen done.
Let the bride of frivolous fashion, and of ease, be ashamed and dumb,
For I tell you the nations shall rule us who have let their children come!
...

How pleasant to sit on the beach,
On the beach, on the sand, in the sun,
With ocean galore within reach,
And nothing at all to be done!
...

On the seashore of endless worlds children meet.
The infinite sky is motionless overhead
and the restless water is boisterous.
On the seashore of endless worlds
...

Down to the beach
Down to the beach
On a sunny day we go
...

I pray Almighty and rest,
No more questions and no more zest,
Continue to strive always for best,
Is it not the time for simple test?
...

It was a beige sand beach beneath a copper-tint sky,
where with each untroubled step we walked away our youth.
The air carried the sound of crashing waves as the tide rolled in,
yet my lips can still retrace the imprint of her kiss.
...

When the long day goes by
And I do not see your face,
The old wild, restless sorrow
Steals from its hiding place.
...

I saw from the beach, when the morning was shining,
A bark o'er the waters move gloriously on;
I came when the sun o'er that beach was declining,
The bark was still there, but the waters were gone.
...

WHEN I heard at the close of the day how my name had been receiv'd
with plaudits in the capitol, still it was not a happy night
for me that follow'd;
...

Since first the White Horse Banner blew free,
By Hengist's horde unfurled,
Nothing has changed on land or sea
Of the things that steer the world.
...

Blazing at the gazing sky,
Deep into the heart as the beach comber rise,
Sitting and counting the glazing of the pebbles,
When near the seashore heart heaviness arise...
...

With Kit, Age 7, at the Beach


We would climb the highest dune,
...

I long for the night,
When I'll hold you so tight,
In my dreams,
Once again we are young,
...

After the whey-faced anonymity
Of river-gums and scribbly-gums and bush,
After the rubbing and the hit of brush,
You come to the South Country
...

You can get there from here, though
there's no going home.
...

If thou in the dear love of some one Friend
Hast been so happy that thou know'st what thoughts
Will sometimes in the happiness of love
Make the heart sink, then wilt thou reverence
...

ON the beach at night alone,
As the old mother sways her to and fro, singing her husky song,
As I watch the bright stars shining--I think a thought of the clef of
...

She has no need to fear the fall
Of harvest from the laddered reach
Of orchards, nor the tide gone ebbing
From the steep beach.
...

He thrust his joy against the weight of the sea;
climbed through, slid under those long banks of
foam--
...

Used together: seasons, books, a piece of music.
The keys, teacups, bread basket, sheet and a bed.
A hope chest of words, of gestures, brought back, used, used up.
A household order maintained. Said. Done. And always a head was there.
...

I glance across the moon lit beach,
The grains of sand squelch under feet,
Impossibilities, become real
But all that's real is out of reach.
...

Between the cliff-rise and the beach
A slip of emerald I own;
With fig and olive, almond, peach,
cherry and plum-tree overgrown;
...

When a woman looks up at you with a twist about her eyes,
And her brows are half uplifted in a nicely feigned surprise
As you breathe some pretty sentence, though she hates you all the while,
She is very apt to stun you with a made to order smile.
...

WILD, wild the storm, and the sea high running,
Steady the roar of the gale, with incessant undertone muttering,
Shouts of demoniac laughter fitfully piercing and pealing,
Waves, air, midnight, their savagest trinity lashing,
...

....
Just a little tiny battered and paint-peeling boat
forgotten
and tied to the dock for season after season
...

Fine, warm sand under the skin;
breeze playing with the long hair;
seagull`s yells and distant babel;
she feels invisible - stretched
...

The photo’s small and rather creased but there
We are, a family group in black and white.
A camera has the trick of freezing time.
We’re posed before a boat outside our house,
...

The Jumbo Jet has barely shuddered off
The ground, and I'm depressed. My scuba mask
And fins, my fly rod and beach hat
...

Murmurs from the earth of this land, from the caves and craters,
from the bowl of darkness. Down watercourses of our
dragon childhood, where we ran barefoot.
...

I am enjoying everything! With your eyes!
the incessant rain on a valley, the blessing of a sun-kissed day,
the snow-capped mountain-peaks,
the glorious sandy beach, the glow
...

From single thread to a garment
From a flower to a bouquet
From a blade of grass to a lawn
From a grain of sand to a beach
...

What is my name to you? 'T will die:
a wave that has but rolled to reach
with a lone splash a distant beach;
or in the timbered night a cry ...
...

RINGS of iron gray smoke; a woman’s steel face … looking … looking.
Funnels of an ocean liner negotiating a fog night; pouring a
...

No matter what I say,
All that I really love
Is the rain that flattens on the bay,
And the eel-grass in the cove;
...

Oh they won't let us show it at the beach no they won't let us show it at the beach
They think we're gonna grab it if it gets within our reach
...

As I went down to Dymchurch Wall,
I heard the South sing o'er the land
I saw the yellow sunlight fall
On knolls where Norman churches stand.
...

Hope is a bird
With wonderful feathers
Sits on the boughs of the soul
And sings the song of how to be remain alive
...

While we shared on the beach moments
Facing the setting sun and the glooming waves
I noticed, amidst the last glow of the setting sun,
Dreams gleaming in your deep blue eyes.
...

Said General Clay to General Gore,
'Oh must we fight this silly war?
To kill and die is such a bore.'
'I quite agree,' said General Gore.
...

Old Euclid drew a circle
On a sand-beach long ago.
He bounded and enclosed it
With angles thus and so.
...

People who live by the sea
understand eternity.
They copy the curves of the waves,
their hearts beat with the tides,
...

No one dares dream of beach houses
While walking on these dirty city streets
In the misty sullen rain
Where the children smile despite some new despair
...

Grey clouds cover the blue sky
The sun, the star, the moon
Are not seen well,
The sky reflects on the sea,
...

When the world comes down to this one dark wood
Before our four astonished eyes...
To a beach for two faithful children...
To a house of music, for our clear accord...
...

I OFTEN wander on the beach
Where once, so brown of limb,
The biting air, the roaring surf
Summoned me to swim.
...

(Nonasyllabics)

In retrospect the tragic nature
of sea is a taste wept too daily,
...

Back, in my fifties, fatter that I was then,
I step on the sand, belch down slight horror to walk
a wincing pit edge, waiting for the pistol shot
laughter. Long greening waves cash themselves, foam change
...

Squat, unshaven, full of gas,
Joseph Samuels, former clerk
in four large cities, out of work,
waits in the darkened underpass.
...

I pace the sounding sea-beach and behold
How the voluminous billows roll and run,
Upheaving and subsiding, while the sun
Shines through their sheeted emerald far unrolled,
...

The night sky shone of glittering stars
as she gazed upon the splendor
and wondered does my true love
See the same stars I see
...

A girl sang a song in the temple's chorus,
About men, tired in alien lands,
About the ships that left native shores,
And all who forgot their joy to the end.
...

When the robust and Brass-bound Man commissioned first for sea
His fragile raft, Poseidon laughed, and "Mariner," said he,
"Behold, a Law immutable I lay on thee and thine,
That never shall ye act or tell a falsehood at my shrine.
...

Tides came and washed away
the empitiness inside my vacant
heart, the waves came with a thrash
and washed all the remains only leaving
...

Night, like a dying mother,
Eyes her young offspring, Day.
The birds are dreamily piping.
...

The crowded street his playground is, a patch of blue his sky;
A puddle in a vacant lot his sea where ships pass by:
Poor little orphan boy of five, the city smoke and grime
Taint every cooling breeze he gets throughout the summer time;
...

Krinken was a little child,--
It was summer when he smiled.
Oft the hoary sea and grim
Stretched its white arms out to him,
...

Do you remember,
how it was when we were still together?
How we used to in the rain dance,
and dream of going to England and France?
...

Morning in the Marina
a breeze hugs me
with all the freshness
of all the seven seas;
...

At dawn, bare footed, viewing as far as eyes can reach,
the water's edge advances and recedes along the beach.

Before me I see a carpet of half-buried shells of sea-creatures,
...

To comb the beach of old cape cod
For treasures of the sea
I've followed the ebb tides across the sands,
As though it were a key.
...

Wake: the silver dusk returning
Up the beach of darkness brims,
And the ship of sunrise burning
Strands upon the eastern rims.
...

I am in love.. that I can say..
with her.. I wont deny.

She is on my mind.. constantly..
...

The Poem Hunter Beach,
Exists under beech.

In every young's hand,
...

The beach was crowded. Pausing now and then,
He groped and fiddled doggedly along,
His worn face glaring on the thoughtless throng
The stony peevishness of sightless men.
...