The Beach

In my first excursion as a writer of poetry I undertook an exercise of experiencing a scene from each of the five senses separately, and then combining my five scenes into the one poem:

The Beach

(c)2010 Sharon Paterson Smith

Thick dark clouds threaten the beach, fishing boats bobbing and gum trees thrashing,

Sharp wind biting at my cheeks, a shiver runs through my body.

Perched on a rock I reach down. Rolling coarse, wet sand between fingers.

The water crashes on the rocks, chills my feet. And pulls the sand to sea.


Branches fighting in the wind. A rush of lemon. Remnants of the morning’s catch.

Seafood, two-stroke fuel and a waft of engine smoke.

Voices shout and chains ring. A far-off engine roars on the wind

All racing the storm.


Ocean breeze – damp and salty

Drops of fresh rain kissing lips to wash the salt away

Damp skin tingling, absorbing senses with pleasure

And waiting for the heavens to open


I actually prefer my individual pieces as compared to the finished piece.

Touch

Wind biting at my cheeks, a shiver runs through my body

Perched on a rock I reach down

Rolling coarse, wet sand between fingers

Icy water rushes across my feet

The water recedes

Smell

Salty air, the smell of the sea

The morning’s catch on the pier

Two-stroke fuel and a waft of engine smoke

Gust of wind and a rush of lemon gums

Rain is in the air

Hear

Branches swaying back and forth, fighting in the wind

The water crashes on the rocks

Pulls the sand to sea, grains bristling

A far-off engine roars on the wind

Racing the storm

Taste

Ocean breeze – damp and salty

Fresh rain kissing lips washing the salt away

Wet hair brushing face and mouth

Pushed away with sunscreened hand

The taste stained on my lips

See

The thick dark clouds have rolled across the beach

Fishing boats bobbing and gum trees thrashing

Dangling my feet in the cold water and rough sand

I am smiling, shivering

And waiting for the heavens to open

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