Treasure Island

Ernestine Northover

(25th March 1943)

Down By The Sea

Where the tumbling frothing surf,
Meets the sand dunes' spiky turf,
And daring seagulls dive and screech,
Above the sunny sandy beach,
Inventive children with bucket and spade,
Run down from the esplanade.

Lobster pots are drawn up to dry,
Beneath the blue and breezy sky,
And seaweed waiting for the tide,
Lies still, with nowhere else to hide,
And the tangy, salty languid air,
Makes one want to stand and stare.

A crab who liked the noonday heat,
Makes a speedy fast retreat,
As all his space has been invaded,
By humans looking for a shaded
Place to sit, and rest, and play,
On this hot shifting sand, today.

Then wafting gentle winds whose kiss,
Anoint our bodies with cooling bliss,
As through the hours of burning sun,
We try to get our tans well done.
They, nowhere else, could better be,
Than on the shore, down by the sea.

© Ernestine Northover

Submitted: Tuesday, July 04, 2006
Edited: Thursday, August 12, 2010

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Comments about this poem (Down By The Sea by Ernestine Northover )

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  • Tailor Bell (11/24/2006 2:47:00 AM)

    impeccable form and flow...a soothing read makes me want to grab my chair and umbrella and head to the surf. great read. -Tailor (Report) Reply

  • Lori Boulard (7/11/2006 9:07:00 PM)

    Down by the my favorite place to be. Look, your rhymes are contagious, though much better than mine! Thanks for taking me to my happy place, Ernestine. (Report) Reply

  • Duncan Wyllie (7/4/2006 1:07:00 PM)

    Then wafting gentle winds whose kiss,
    Anoint our bodies with cooling bliss,
    What a wonderful poem Ernestine, Beautiful, just beautiful
    Love Duncan X (Report) Reply

Read all 4 comments »

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