Friday, March 15, 2013

Cape Henlopen

Meal Beach, Burra Isles, Shetland by Robin Gosnall

The ocean waves
at me
feigning nonchalance.
Two can play this game.
I stand
like a stop sign
at the edge
and wait.
Transparent, tentative,
the water washes near,
Again it approaches, 
gives my soles a chill tickle,
sneaks away.
The sea surges,
sucks at my toes,
absconds with streams of supporting sands.
I shift my weight
when it looks away,
settling into a deeper foundation.
Now it sends
an unsuspecting jellyfish
amid the foam.
I flinch
and eye its translucence
as it flows behind my ankles,
just where I might have stepped away,
and back again, relieved, 
into the surf.
The sun winks
on its crony waves
and turns up the heat
beating my shoulders without scruple.
Still I stand
until the mountain waves come to me
and I am ready
to dive in.


  1. When I got thru this
    I looked down and found sand in my shoes.

    How do you do that?

  2. Terrific. Your words make me feel like I was there with the sand streaming away beneath my feet. But maybe not in March.

  3. what a lovely poem- I especially like these 3 lines:
    The sun winks
    on its crony waves
    and turns up the heat
    Have a lovely weekend!

  4. How beautiful. I can feel the sand and smell the sea.

  5. Lovely. Poetry is so hard to do well. Bravo!

  6. I like this take on the pic and its form.

  7. I like how you captured standing at the shoreline.

  8. I am loving Phil's comment.

    And your poem.