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Fortress. A poem

 

By Charles Pierre

 

Children of the shore have no fear

of the Atlantic’s rush to the land

and sudden withdrawal. They have learned

to squat with their backs to the waves,

 

building their fortress of sand,

with tunnels to let the water in and out,

and turrets flying exotic feathers

and studded with colored stones and shells.

 

The surf explodes continuously

and washes them in its silver,

their small bodies glistening,

with eyes squinting through the salt

 

and feet lightly fixed above the tide,

a sure-footed stance on the restless beach

by the sunlit ocean that is always flowing

into and out of their open lives.

 

EDITOR’S NOTE:

Charles Pierre is a poet who visits Ocean Grove regularly.  We have gladly posted his work on Blogfinger whenever he submits a poem.    Thank you, Charles.  It is a privilege to share your beautiful  poems with the people of Ocean Grove.

 

Here is what he said about “Fortress:”   (below)

 

Hi Paul:

     Greetings again from Manhattan. Now that summer is here, and the kids are back on the beach, I thought your readers might enjoy my homage to the fledgling architects and engineers who build those fantastic structures on the shore, using only sand, water, and whatever the tide leaves behind. Here is the poem “Fortress,” from my 2008 collection, Father of Water.

Charles Pierre portrait by Marcella Kerr, 2009. ©

Charles Pierre portrait by Marcella Kerr, 2009. ©

Best wishes,

Charles Pierre

 

DJANGO REINHARDT  “I Can’t Give You Anything But Love.”  From the film: “The Aviator”

 

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Ocean Grove beach roses.  May 29, 2005. By Paul Goldfinger ©

Ocean Grove beach roses. May 29, 2005. By Paul Goldfinger ©  Click image to enlarge.

 

“Spring at Ocean Grove”

By Charles Pierre

When predawn shadows
pale to first light,

and onshore gusts begin
to flail the sand,

saltspray roses huddled
in the lee of dunes,

beads of night mist still
clinging to pink petals,

shake en masse
in the cold June air,

straining skyward
against the wind strikes,

to catch full-face
the sun’s least spark.

 

Editor’s Note: We are delighted to once again present a poem by Charles Pierre. The first time we did so was this past April with his poem “Brief Intervals of Harmony.”   Here is the link to that posting:

http://blogfinger.net/2014/04/01/brief-intervals-of-harmony-a-poem-by-charles-pierre/

Once again Mr. Pierre offers us a spring poem inspired by the Ocean Grove beachfront.  Here is the note he sent along with it: —–PG

Charles Pierre. Ocean Grove, 2009.  By Marcella Kerr

Charles Pierre. Ocean Grove, 2009. By Marcella Kerr

“Hi Paul:

     “Greetings again from Manhattan. Among the many casualties of Superstorm Sandy were the beautiful beach roses (also known as saltspray roses) that grew in the dunes along the Ocean Grove boardwalk, and on both sides of the flagpole at the east end of Main Avenue. In June of 2006, when Marcy and I were staying at the Bellevue Stratford Inn, I walked to the shore on a surprisingly cold morning and wrote “Spring at Ocean Grove.” The poem is from my 2008 book, Father of Water. 

“Best wishes,

“Charles Pierre”

 

JACK NICHOLSON   “La Vie En Rose——-Life in Rosy Hues.”

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BRIEF INTERVALS OF HARMONY

By Charles Pierre.

The incoming tide cuts a ragged edge

along the Atlantic shore, where a woman

stands at the start of April, the sharp wind

ripping her hair from its clasp, the rush

of frigid water numbing her bare feet.

Beside the heave of indifferent waves

and carnage of surf, the smashed bodies

of sea life churning amid pebbles and foam,

she nonetheless smiles at the cloudy sky,

closing her eyes at times for bursts of sun

to warm her lids, breathing with the rhythm

of the current so that fearful voices within

might drift out and fade in the gigantic air.

She knows how the cruel discords of nature

are balanced by brief intervals of harmony,

when the beach becomes a shelter of water,

wind and light, where a solitary woman,

intent only on the elements before her,

can sink her feet into the wet ocean sand

and merge with the seascape of early spring.

 

Editor’s Note:   We received this beautiful spring poem from Charles Pierre along with the note below to Blogfinger.  I am delighted to post Mr. Pierre’s evocative and emotional poem.  It is especially appreciated here because of his relationship with Ocean Grove and because his muse for this poem is the Atlantic Ocean which brings all of us moments of harmony.  —Paul Goldfinger, Editor  @Blogfinger

Dear Paul:    

Charles Pierre, poet.  Photograph by Marcella Kerr.

Charles Pierre, poet. Photograph by Marcella Kerr.

Greetings from Manhattan. I and my companion, Marcella Kerr, are long-time visitors to Ocean Grove, who regularly stay at The Bellevue Stratford Inn on Main Avenue

My poem, “Brief Intervals of Harmony,”was  composed on the OG boardwalk in 2009.  My photo was taken  on the OG beach by Marcella Kerr in 2009.

 I am the author of four poetry collections Green Vistas, Father of Water, Brief Intervals of Harmony, and Coastal Moments. Over the past 35 years, my poems have appeared in numerous literary journals, both print and online, in the United States and Canada.

 Marcy and I wish you continued success with your wonderful website.

Sincerely,  Charles Pierre

CELTIC WOMAN:

 

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“At Blackwater Pond”

 

At Blackwater Pond the tossed waters have settled

after a night of rain.

I dip my cupped hands. I drink

a long time. It tastes

like stone, leaves, fire. It falls cold

into my body, waking the bones. I hear them

deep inside me, whispering

oh what is that beautiful thing

that just happened?

 

By Mary Oliver

Mary Oliver is a Pulitzer Prize winning poet, now age 78

Mary Oliver.  Internet photo

Mary Oliver. Internet photo

Poem submitted by Lee Morgan.   We welcome poems and short essays—fiction or non.

 

 

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