Reflections On a seashore

I visited the beach with my family the other day and suddenly was reminded of a poem I had written when I was maybe 16, and at a time when I was much impressed by the style of the 19th century poets as I would read from The Golden Treasury.  So if you’ll keep in mind the age and the style of poetry even then in vogue, you can perhaps overlook an element of childishness in the form of this one and others I penned. Honestly, putting it here more for the fear that a memory might be lost if I were to lose that diary than for any other reason. After all time has moved on and so has style of the written word. Still believe I was born in the wrong century….

Reflections On a seashore

O brilliant sunshine!
O glorious sea!
Both of you are mine
And I belong to thee.
Here I stand my love!
On this place they call land
The sea in front, the skies above
My feet sunk in soft sand

Oh, it’s a wondrous world
Open to all there be
So delicately carved and curled
All there for us to see;
It’s an Artists heaven
And a Poets dream
So artfully is it woven
So superbly serene

The joyfully galloping sea
Arrives ever so gaily on the beach
To embosom the sand in unhidden glee
As far as its arms can reach;
The white gloved hands of the waves
Doth so gently clasp ones feet
As the soft sand from underneath escapes
In a fashion so ticklishly sweet

As the promise of a dazzling dawn
Doth embody itself on the bay
The first streaks of Aurora are born
To herald the birth of another day
The splendor of a clear blue sky
Is soon to be seen and enjoyed
It’s a time to revel, so don’t be shy
Come out and shout: “God, I’m overjoyed”

As patches of cloud suddenly appear
To decorate the ceiling of the earth
The sky is dressed in its full attire
To prove itself of worth
To the sea, lavishing in its blue dress
Its white frills stretching on the sand
To receive the smooth, gentle caress
From the level layers of soft sand

Softly, the trees began to stir
In the early morning breeze
As the flowers begin to decipher
The buzzing of the hungry bees
The shrill whistle of the Cuckoo bird
Announces the blossoming of another day
As nature makes itself seen and heard
And at our feet it doth itself lay

And the wind winds its way
Spreading a gust of salty smell
All along the margin of the bay
Bewitching all; casting a spell
Of pure harmony and enchanting melody
Producing its own delightful rhapsody
All along its path it sings
As it flies on its woven wings

In the far distance the sight
Of the waves splashing their foam
As they crash with all their might
On the tall cliffs standing alone
To face the deafening roar
Of the determined waves’ attack
Engrossed in their vain bid to pour
Upon its foe; only to be driven back

The gulls in their graceful glide
Do so elegantly ride the air
As they turn left, then right
Relishing the morning sun’s glare
Flapping their wings now and then
Echoing their shrill piercing cry
As in a giant flock they descend
Then up, up they go into the sky

At last, Apollo calls it a day
And exits in a golden haze;
For a while its Ambassadors stay
For a fabulous farewell; to amaze
Even the hardest of hearts
To mystify the most brilliant brain
But primarily this message to pass
Our king shall rise again

Soon lovely Diana in her eternal grace
Shimmers down on the darkened sea
As she takes her predecessors place
To reign in her utmost glory
The bees are silent, the birds asleep;
The stars twinkle on the Milky Way
Flowers through their petals peep
As everything waits for another day.

About Sohaib Alvi

C-Suite Corporate Executive, MBA, Author, Writer, Blogger, Editor, Anchor, TV & Radio Analyst but above all a citizen of the world with a responsibility to live with my personal motto: Have Integrity; Share Knowledge; Create Distinction; Help People.
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