The INDEX for our Archived 'Write To A Picture' pages is HERE.




 

Afternoon In Acadia

By Marilyn (LaraOct7@aol.com)


Recently I was in Acadia National Park (Bar Harbor, Maine). Ben and I had walked down on the rocks for a better view of the ocean and this was an additional scene we saw. The poodle looked up, saw me, and watched me take the picture. I never saw the faces of the couple but they looked as though they were very much enjoying their afternoon.

What can you write about this scene? Or, if you want, tell us about your own visits to the ocean.

Fiction or fact, we look forward to your entry.








 


Seaside Peace


By Phyllis Ann (Starbird55@comcast.net)


We seniors stick together with our white hair be it curly or straight.
Our enjoyment comes from simple things, like a day at the seaside with our mate.



The surf calls with its lulling sound with bright sun overhead.
We have our umbrellas, chairs, companionship and nothing to dread.



The peace is disturbed by a tourist with an eye for beauty.
I look up at the camera simply out of duty.



She smiles and snaps my picture with my family unaware.
I lay my head back down without a care.



Peace, sweet peace at home with sand and surf this day.
I am drinking it in just where I lay.









 


Afternoon Contentment


By Joy (JOY3032@aol.com)


Sitting under our umbrellas
Just us and our faithful dog
Enjoying the scene, the sunlight
Content as a bump on a log


The sky is as blue as the water
The rocks ancient and so serene
No one around to disturb us
Such a romantic scene


She sits with her pencil sketching
My partner is reading his book
Idyllic but still inspiring
Until I get a closer look


No mark on her drawing paper
The pencil inert on the sand
Where it has casually landed
Dropped from her limp right hand


The book that he is reading
Is at rest upon his lap
While both of them are enjoying
A sun kissed afternoon nap









 


A Little Limerick


By Sharon (Sunyskys1943@aol.com)


Enjoying a day on the sand
Waves bring water to meet land
A couple and their dog
Brain stress begins to unclog
Accepting pleasures at hand









 


By The Sea


By susi Taylor (Texaswishr@aol.com)


Tranquil morning by the sea
Just my love and me
Oh, and of course, the dog
who is lying, spent and tired by a good run
now taking his rest under the sun


Serene afternoon by the sea
Holding hands, my love and me
Oh, and of course, the dog
who, for our attention, jumps around
despite our commands for him to lie down


Quiet evening by the sea
Me looking at you, you looking at me
Oh, and of course, the dog
who is chasing sandpipers on the beach
or whatever else he thinks he can reach


Finally leaving the beautiful sea
Packing up together, you and me
Oh, and of course, the dog
excitedly happy to be going home
where he can relax in the gloam


Sunrise on the glassy sea
We stand and watch, my love and me
without, of course, the dog
who, exhausted from yesterday
is going to sleep the day away









 


Afternoon


By Barbara (Brierhillbarbara@aol.com)


It is so nice to be here with you
You, me, and Molly.
We needed a break.
So much going on in the world.
The kids are all fine.
And now we are alone and soaking up sun.
It has been a long time since we just sat
Doing nothing but enjoying.
I enjoy the quiet here with you.
Just knowing I can reach out and touch you
that is a wonderful sense
If only it would always be like this.









 


Acadia


By Norma (Twi1ite@sbcglobal.net)


Honey, how long has this been "our place?"


Remember when we brought Pooh, our new puppy,
And he almost got washed out by the tide.
But you jumped in and saved him.
My hero by my side.


Was it so long ago we walked barefoot in the sand,
When we watched the moon
Went dancing in the beachhouse
To 78's of Glenn Miller’s band.


Oh, did you bring the sunscreen?
Fifteen or Fifty PH,
Did you take your meds this morning,
Lock the door, hide your tender face?


Funny how our food’s so different now,
Whole wheat sandwiches were yummy,
Remember that spongy white bread, though,
With bologna for our tummies.


Can’t do that any more, my dear,
Okay, I’ll speak loud so you can hear
My voice over the ocean’s splashing,
Neither of us have young ears.


Let’s just sit here and dream
And recall the twilight dancing,
Quiet our soul-matched hearts,
Remember forever romancing.









 


To An Afternoon in Arcadia


By Bob (C1ydeBunky@aol.com)


Though eyes of mine grow dim, I better see -
In hearing now, the brain receives much more.
My judgment (You may call it what you will)
By choice moves slower now, not as before.
As many have moved on to better worlds,
Within my circle fewer friends appear -
I daily wish that they could be with me
As deeper understandings blossom here.


I’ve traveled far, my leisure now enjoy -
Did chance allow, I’d travel further still
And never stop from searching for the grand
Excitement found o’er each new rising hill.
To please the person driving my pursuit;
I’d fear much less and harder try, each try,
Nor would I drink as little, sleep as much
As when eternity became so nigh.


I’d try to be discriminate in speech,
And modify the rantings of self-praise -
To see the me that others saw in me
And put a higher value to my days;
To make my steps worth seeing, looking back
And aim more carefully going ahead;
In short, each day live better than before
To measure well what kind of life I led









 


At the Sea Shore


By Tom (tomWYO@aol.com)


Quiet except for the gulls a squawking,
sounds of the surf are reassuring.
Sunday afternoon we two,
not a care in the world
we are retired.


Doze and watch the clouds,
wave at the few boats that sail by.
Sip cool wine and eat canapes,
read a book or listen to the game,
my oh my isn’t it a shame,
some folks still have to work.


Surf comes in, surf goes out,
if I feel exceptionally good,
some seashells I will pick up
as I stroll in the sand,
yes, I like to walk the dog.


Cool breezes do blow
the clouds put on a show;
few come to this little place,
we are too old to go buff,
for excitement, this is enough.









 


Afternoon at Acadia


By Connie (CSThomas@aol.com)


What better way to feel the quietness of the day, except the rushing of water upon the shore, then paint a picture of the sea before you. Of course... one must take Ralphy with them, so he can enjoy it too. His white coat reminds me of when I went to the beach in a city by the sea one year when I was young, and foolishly wore a white bathing suit.. I never realized the dirtiness of the sea caused by nature or the ships coming to port till it was too late.

When I got home and discovered my new white bathing suit was covered with what looked like oil, I was sick. Nothing to do but throw it away - I tried every thing I could to get it off. So I can only imagine what 'Ralphy' would look like if he got in the water. But the salty sea can and does kill fleas - so it's good for something other than sailing ships and artists!!








 


Day at the Sea


By Lilly (Lilprincessitala@aol.com)


MY LOVE WAS LEAVING, SOON GOING TO WAR.
HE ASKED IF I WOULD LIKE TO GO ON A PICNIC
WE PLANNED FOR ONE, A DAY AT SEA
IT WAS A LOVELY DAY AND THE SEA WAS CALM
WE WALKED DOWN THE ROCKS TO FIND A SPOT
I CARRIED THE BLANKET AND HE THE BASKET
AND HIS DOG ON A LEASH. ROSIE HAD TO COME
THIS MADE HIM FORGET THE CHAIRS BUT WAS OK.
THERE WAS A BOLT IN CEMENT,SO PUT LEASH ON
WAS IN SEMI-SHADE, NEXT TO THE ROCK PILE
WE HUGGED AND HE TOOK HALF OF BLANKET.
WE LAID IT DOWN..HE GOT ANOTHER IN TRUNK.
ALL SET WE LAY AND TALKED AND LAUGHED
SHORTLY AN ELDERLY COUPLE CAME BY AND
SET UP CHAIRS. THEY SANK IN SAND AND GIGGLED
WATCHED THEM MOVE AROUND AND GOT A SPOT
WE ATE, ENJOYED THE WAVES AND ITS SOUND
SEAGULLS CAME, THE COUPLE THREW BREAD.
ROSIE BARKED SO GAVE HER A TREAT. WAS OK.
WAS GETTING COOL AS SUN WENT OVERHEAD.
HE SAID NOT WANT TO LEAVE ME AND ME, HIM.
SAID I LOVE YOU, KISSES HIS ARM AROUND ME
WALKED LITTLE WAYS ALONG SHORELINE.
WAS GETTING DARK, WE HEADED FOR HOME.









 


An Afternoon in Acadia


By Swampetta (SWAMPETTA@aol.com)


"Look! Is that a whale out there?"
She points out to the briny deep.
"Oooggghhh! Now let's be fair,
You woke me from a dead sleep."


"I know it's a whale...Can you see it yet?"
"Sweetie, It's probably a just a kiddy float."
Leaning back, she gives the dog a pet.
"No whale there, maybe it's a rowboat."


"Have you got your glasses on? LOOK!"
"They're on but there is nothing there to see.
Why don't you read your mystery book?
And quit your bugging me!"


The dog sat between them pondering..
"What's the big deal here? A whale?
If it comes ashore, I'll chase it. Wondering,
Will it chase it's tail?"









 


Day at Bar Harbor


By RickMack (rmrickmack@aol.com)


How unique, this coast of Maine,
Wind-bent pines, on shelves of rock,
Lobster boats with pots and seine,
Overhead, a wild goose flock.


Icy water laps the shore,
Frothy suds stir seaweed strands;
As, aloft, the seagulls soar,
Searching for scraps in the sand.


If one peers asea, perhaps,
Staring towards the horizon,
They might spot, among white caps,
A whale to feast their eyes on.


Two tourists bask in the sun,
A poodle between their chairs.
All too soon this day is done,
But what memories are theirs.


Nearby, next, the gift shops wait,
Restaurants beckon as well,
Where the fresh lobster is great.
And then, back to the motel.









 


Sand Castles


By Mary (MusingByMary@aol.com)


Seashells aglimm’r with moist rainbows
sand clinging tenaciously to their toes . . .
Souls join’d in innocent conspiracy
words of endearment whisper’d awkwardly ~




His limpid, laughing eyes she sees
her hair atangle with salty sea breeze . . .
Shyly accepting his first chaste kiss
could life e’er again be sweet as this? ~




Two hearts warmly beating in perfect time
discovering nature’s magical rhyme . . .
Yet ne’er share again such synchrony
nor sing this same blissful harmony ~




Nor stars again shine quite as bright
nor moonbeams e’er shed such halo’d light . . .
Waves ne’er caress again that silvery shore
SAND CASTLES built there be no more! ~




Touching each poignant souvenir
she brushes away a crystal tear . . .
Only her bittersweet memories remain
for first love can ne’er return again!



Mary Carter Mizrany
Copyrighted. All rights reserved.










         

 

 





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