Category Archives: beach

Pelicans Align – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

IMG_0071.jpeg

Photo: Hardy Inlet, Blackwood River, three pelicans in the shallows.

 

 

“Many pelicans fish by swimming in cooperative groups …”  National Geographic

Pelicans Align

Just a grey October day where
the river reflects its sky so well,
a flash of white dazzles on the
far eastern shoreline
a painter’s bold smudge,
the air murmurs but doesn’t move,
gulls and terns circle and pass,
suddenly the daub of paint moves
and catches my eye,
five birds take to the sky
thermal surfers wheeling and circling,
soon five more, and another,
till forty pelicans align in a
grace that belies their size
and somehow the world seems
to be a better place.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com

33 Comments

Filed under beach, bush walking, Free Verse, life, nature, poem

Pondered Pebble – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Pebble – RDP Thursday

stones-2272520__480.jpg

Photo: pixabay.com

“It is a mathematical fact that the casting of this pebble from my hand alters the centre of gravity of the universe.”  Thomas Carlyle

Pondered Pebble

Have you ever stood and pondered a pebble
on riverbank or seashore,
to know that a conglomerate surrendered it so
by water and by wind,
that oneness can give an abundance
and nothing is alone or insignificant,
to think that such a small thing
can be a giant killer,
a game changer,
gravity mover,
disturber of peace,
a garden of delight,
pity the one who doesn’t ponder a pebble.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com

41 Comments

Filed under beach, Free Verse, life, poem, quote

I Remember – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

5 Lines – The Beach

beach-4301479_640.jpg

Photo provided by Patricia’s Place  via pixabay.com

 

I Remember

When I have whelved all my thoughts to the
point that I dwell in anomia
I go to the edge to listen to the wind calling,
while the water caresses,
and I remember your laughter.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

 

Paul, pvcann.com

 

38 Comments

Filed under beach, challenge, Five Lines, Free Verse, life, love, poem

Taking Time – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Warp – RDP Sundayitaly-981191_1280.jpg

Photo: pixabay.com

 

Taking Time

I looked back towards the horizon
and I measured by heart
the distance traveled,
once, I craved the everything beyond
devouring places in the wake of drive,
now I savour where I’ve been
and the who of many conversations,
we lost a few along the way
raising the tide with a tear or two,
days past there was no rest
we moored for little
yet, curious, we delved for a while,
more often on the move
we compassed the globe and tore about
even now we’re far from still
but the harbour is inviting now
where I desire to be moored,
with long tables
in languid time
where words are shared
and never consumed.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Note: warp can refer to the weave of a rope, but it can also mean the art of mooring a boat using rope.

 

Paul, pvcann.com

43 Comments

Filed under beach, boats, Free Verse, life, poem

Barometer Of Love – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Balmy – Word of the Day

IMG_0026.jpeg

Taken looking west from Bunbury over the Indian Ocean, a truly balmy eve.

 

Barometer Of Love

Such a beautiful day
we iced the cake of it with sunset,
and strolled is view with desire,
while the humidity of our souls so moist,
overflowed.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

 

Paul, pvcann.com

14 Comments

Filed under beach, Five Lines, Free Verse, love, poem

Down-Payment – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Sequester – Word of the Day

IMG_1590-1.jpg

Windy Harbour, looking westward along the south coast.

Down-Payment

Slowly fast we went
and sequestered time,
and left the rush of real life,
where devices twitter perched on data trees,
and slamming doors and ring tones
signal anxious rush to drudge.
We put a down-payment on us,
and floated to the sea,
to taste the salt in the air,
to feel the sand between our toes,
to smell the wattle and friends,
make garlands of seaweed,
and listen to the wisdom of birds,
and wonder, is water the same
yesterday, today and tomorrow?
It was only a day,
but it felt like more,
and I feel younger now,
O to drown in that sea.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul,

pvcann.com

31 Comments

Filed under beach, bush walking, Free Verse, poem

Knowing

Fathom – Word of the Day

pexels-photo-805367.jpeg

Photo: pexels.com

 

Knowing

If I could kedge your mysterious depths,
that I might navigate safely,
the channels of emotion
that course our veins,
and so, not risk the reefs of disappointment
and wreckage of love.
To fathom your feelings,
to know for sure,
that I am yours.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

 

Note: Kedging is the old art of guiding a sailing ship into bays and channels using a longboat to row ahead and plot a safe course and drop an anchor allowing the ship to pull itself against the anchor and move the course safely. It helped many a tall ship avoid running aground, or hitting a reef. The method is also used to rescue ships that ran aground, technically using the anchor as a lever to pull against, thus setting the ship free.

Gloss T touer.gif

 

 

Paul,

pvcann.com

26 Comments

Filed under beach, boats, life, love, poetry, Quadrille, romance

Precarious Soul

Rash – Word of the Day

man-standing-on-edge-of-a-cliff.jpg

Photo: times highereducation.com

 

 

Precarious Soul

The storm raged all night in my heart,
and it felt as if the very breath of me
had escaped as if a deflated balloon.
And I stood on the precipice of rejection,
the cracks in my soul so precarious
I might fall into myself.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

 

Paul,

pvcann.com

21 Comments

Filed under beach, life, Literature, love, poetry, Quadrille

The SS Integrity Adrift

Rectitude – Word of the Day

2E0BA5AF00000578-0-image-a-40_1446497258013.jpg

Photo: http://www.dailymail.co.uk

Four Mexican fishermen who were adrift for one month, rescued by Mexican navy 1,200 miles from their planned route.

 

The SS Integrity Adrift

Eagerly we motored out and pushed beyond the heads,
to way past any sight of land,
to where the fish are known.
At some point,
too early,
the light became constrained.
As darkness pressed our souls,
confused,
we turned for home.
And if that wasn’t enough,
someone said in panicked tone
“We’re taking water now.”
And so began committee time,
clause by clause a values game,
what should we throw out?
So went the rods and then the bait,
a tackle box or two.
desperately  we ate our lunch
and skulled the beer down,
whatever helped us float.
Eventually we plugged the hole and bailed dry,
but now which way to go?
“Dunno mate” larconically said,
“We’ve thrown the compass out.”
We took turns to steer the night
so sleep could claim a few.
But when at last the sun appeared
despair set in,
home was nowhere near.
To make it worse the fuel ran out,
but at least the shore was close.
We paddled hard with all our might,
the current pushing hard,
though hard we tried the boat gave up,
and land was passing by.
Tired now,
our hearts and boat are one.
But to understand what’s happened here
you’ll have to catch my drift.

©Paul Cannon

 

Paul,

pvcann.com

27 Comments

Filed under beach, boats, life, poetry

Wooden Bream

Awkward – Word of the Day

IMG_0160.jpg

Now that’s definitely awkward! Augusta tour boat jetty, with the Blackwood River riding high after heavy winter rains.

 

Wooden Bream

The evening light is dim,
and the tide betwixt,
swash, swash, swash,
lapping the timber sides
in rhythmic beat.
There’s a sole light with courting moths,
and shadows are moving about.
It’s deeper further along,
and the pros are casting there.
We’re at the shallow end,
the beginners place.
I set my rod,
the rig is ready,
bait set and the line is cast.
Then in it comes,
zzzzzzzzzzzz
an angler’s hazzard appears,
an inedible blowie.
Father demands a turn,
the rig is ready,
bait set and the line is cast,
and then it strains,
his excitement mounts.
He yells, “I’ve got one!”
The pros all turn,
“this must be good.”
But I cut the line,
his catch is inedible too,
a wooden bream.
“Dad, you’ve hooked the jetty.”

©Paul Cannon

This poem is a true story, one of my childhood memories. Black Bream is species of fish found in the Swan river, it is said that they are cunning and wily and hard to catch.

 

Paul,
pvcann.com

36 Comments

Filed under beach, boats, life, nature, poetry