by Kai Michael Neumann |
‘Life is a beach and sometimes you fry’
Sun-crested waves meander towards castles in sand from our high hopes of flow
teasing our scorched driftwood channelling waters caressing high tides and low
sun burn riptides and undertow rally trust in the life guards’ experience of sinking
request a hatful of hope and emotion a sunscreen of love and reorganised thinking
4th September 2016
by Robert Pettit |
places, seasons, travel,
I love my sunshine.
Summer sun rays feel so fine.
I get a nice tan
just from lying on the beach.
I need sunscreen within reach.
by Margeret Bailey |
Pets take vacations all throughout
It doesn't matter if inclement weather
They take adventurous rides with their Masters,
even in the midst of natural disasters,
They soak up the rays minus the sunscreen,
loving the water and the beach because
they like to preen,
The animals love to get away to places
their families have been,
At the end of their vacations they grow
withdrawn and sad,
because the sun and fun creates the best
time they've ever had.
by David Drowley |
love, sun, time,
I only tell of sunny hours...
Shedding tears for unrequited love.
My cooling shadow stalks sun;
Caresses with timely sunscreen
Sweet sundial’s gilt Egyptian face.
Ask me time of day;
“Shadow knows,” I’ll say.
Shadow will not rest
‘Til sun does nest.
by Georgia Kereopa |
dream, funny, silly,
I roar the lioness in dreams
sweet promise, sensual echo
my abode your heart
hope manifesting love
butterfly kisses, tongue licks
fireworks ignite the sky
the Disney, happy ever after ending
just before you wake, a twist
strange magic, weaves in the airrr
your favourite song
pleasant sensations, hum along
you wake up at the beach, oh schmack
Scoobie Doo’s rubbing sunscreen on my back
Scoobie Doobie Doo!
Entered in Another 8 word challenge
Sponsor: Kai Michael Neumann
Words: Constitution, Hope, Echo, Dissociation, Abode, Dreams, Lioness, Sensual
by Thomas Harrison |
Sonnet 18 – Well, kind of...
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
I said sunscreen would have stopped you burning.
Thou art more lovely and more temperate,
but at times, sorry, just so damn messy.
By thy eternal summer shall not fade,
unless that rain comes back and scuppers it.
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
one day I’ll write a sonnet properly.