Ocean (an acrostic poem)

On top of my boogie board

Care thrown to the wind as the wave breaks

Everything screams go as I start falling downward

And the wave carries me towards the awaiting shore

Now time to pick myself up and find my next ride

 

Image: ak5.picdn.net/shutterstock/videos/26067095/thumb/1.jpg

The Tides Have Turned (a 100 word story)

I captured my true love’s heart playing among the ocean’s surf.  I was overjoyed, yet saddened at the same time.  She means so much to me, but I had wanted solitude at that moment.

I had left her last week, hoping the pain of our breakup would begin to dull.  Alas, here among those playful waves she worked her way back into my life.  Because of my devotion to her, she and I will go sailing far over the horizon together again.

This time I’ll make sure her waterlogged corpse doesn’t get loose and wash up on the beach again.

 

Image: http://www.publicdomainpictures.net/pictures/210000/velka/ocean-waves-crashing-on-rocks-1481321563Aek.jpg

Peaches (an acrostic poem)

Perhaps I should contemplate the finer things of life

Envisioning a dream scenario

An ocean front condo right on the beach

Counting the waves as they break along the sandy shore

How I could spend days in that spot, basking in the sun

Eventually I would wake up and wonder what else I could do,

So I’m movin’ to the country, I’m gonna eat me a lot of …

 

Image: upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/9/9e/Autumn_Red_peaches.jpg

Flowing Through Time

When you are young you run with reckless abandon everywhere.  There is always something new to see and experience.  The world is so huge, and you have so much energy that you want to explode to spread yourself across everything.  You are more energetic than the time that surrounds you.  Time moves so slowly that you wonder if you are ever going to get to a point where you can do what you want, when you want to.  It’s like you found a spring on a hot day, and you play in the spurting cool water of time.  It isn’t enough water to satisfy you; to cool you completely.  You just wish there was more time to allow you to be immersed.

You reach your twenties and thirties, and you have the energy to do those things and just enough experience to try to get the most for the energy you expend.  Satisfaction from each new encounter provides positive feedback, sending you to the next one.  You wade through a stream of time.  The water pools and runs around your legs, pulling you lightly along, but you are still master of your travel.  Time can tickle you, but your energy allows you to be in the moment, and time doesn’t sweep you past it before you let it.

Now you get older and your energy level begins to decrease more.  This is a gradual decrease, so you don’t notice it at first.  Life begins to pile things up on you.  Now not everything can get done in a day, week, or year.  Family, career, and me time cry for attention, but there isn’t enough energy left to buck time.  Time begins to grow faster, picking you out of the calm part of the river and edging you towards the middle.  You hear rapids approaching.  Do you swim for shore?  Do you try to find an eddy in time that you can float in to catch your breath?  Do you try to shoot the rapids?  Time is moving faster and faster, and soon you are ditching things overboard like goals and aspirations, bucket lists, people and places that are special to you just to keep afloat and not smashed upon the rocks of midlife crisis.

You make to retirement.  You manage to ride the river to the ocean and the waves crash you in towards shore.  You realize that time has won.  It was always going to.  Your acceptance of that allows you to just enjoy floating there, bobbing on each passing wave.  It becomes fun again to frolic in time, but you know one day you’re going to be stranded on that beach at the end of life, out of time and energy.  Time will still surge in and out, but your time to ride will be over.

The Tides of War, a 200 word fable

The waves ran onto the shore, advancing the front line, and establishing a beachhead under the watchful eye of the old man who was beaming in his full glory.  Inch by inch, soaking the ground with their being, they advanced.  Alas, after reaching a high point, the water retreated mere hours later, fleeing from the unseen enemy, morale broken.  Wave after wave of reinforcements ran into the remnants that had been holding their ground, but those remnants were now fleeing back into the depths.  This caused the reinforcements to crash helplessly short of the position the waves had previously attained, giving up precious territory that had been taken at considerable cost.  The remainder of those that had taken the beach rested, their souls released to the sky to be born again in the heavens above.  The retreat continued until the old man once again rallied his troops, hurling them towards the shore anew.  Wave after wave poured their being into retaking what had been lost, the battle not finished.  Over and over the battle was waged, but till this day no victor has been anointed, and the many tears shed for the fallen is why the ocean is so salty.