This picture was taken on Hunting Island State Park, South Carolina. I wrote this poem that very day ...after being on this island that still is, untouched by man. The spiritual sensing was phenomenol. It is a raw beach full of life and beauty and man's hand is nowhere to be seen except in the small lighthouse that has been there for over a hundred years. If you get near Beaufort, South Carolina, Hunting Island State Park is another twenty miles east and worth the drive.
Stretches of coastline chopped into islands
Dying old trees living in silence
Wonderful laid back southern day
Strumming my heart in peculiar ways
An Osprey out dining from tree to tree
Flying his dinner between him and me
Off in the distance the Sandpipers dance
Amid the tide influx with a sea foam chance
Pelicans, Terns and Laughing Gulls
Rotting old tree trunks with old stumps that bulge
Making this Sunday more special than most
With footprints in time along the East Coast
Shadow of hands wrapped in each other
Moments of grace as lips reach to smother
Words from a memory wrapped all in years
Fighting to somehow hold back the tears
Seconds stand still on wings of a whim
Shudders are open to catch it on film
Moments are full while recalling time
When long-legged damsels tasted a rhyme
Back in the old days when hearts ran free
Open then shut… longing to be
With time in a capsule refreshed anew
Chasing the tears as yesterday flew
Hunting Island is lost in her thought
A hoop-skirted Rebel with her Swamp Fox
Mysterious meanderings breaking the day
Along barrier islands in play
Hosting a memory of days gone by
As romance gets caught in low misted sighs
Chasing a dream of Dixie and ghosts
Dangling in time along the East Coast
Nature’s old trees and ebb tides sashay
Making their moment important today.
Carrabelle is sort of a marshy place like the Ga. coast.
Still, after yet another week there on the boat, I know why they say people go there and are never heard from again. The locals call it a quaint drinking village with a fishing problem....lol
This is stunning - verse and image take us to a unspoiled place, untouched by humanity's greed - well done.
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
Reviewed by Andy Turner (Reader)
Reviewed on February 9, 2008
Amazing. And it is so weird, or so it seems, as before I joined AD, only in hollywood films do you get an imperfect picture. One never realises that people do really live near such way out exotic places...
Susan I'm so glad you shared this gem with us. It is so beautifully written I could see it all through your words,and I know it would be a joy to be there in person! My kinda place!
...your title gives witness...to the wisdom of the writer...a lighthouse shared with us...radiant ink...for us to sail to closer...charting dreams.
John
Impassioned as always ~ Finding the raw beauty in all(heels to halo)_ olloevev .~. TedSo
Reviewed by Jerry Bolton (Reader)
Reviewed on February 9, 2008
And here is the other Savannah Treasure, our own Susan putting out the words and the rhyme like none can surpass . . . Old Southern style imbedded within her psyche, fail damsels of old titter behind fans in her long memory . . . This one really captured the wonder of the memory . . . Excellant, my frend, very much so . . .
The authors of Savannah: Brokers, Bankers and Bay Lane: Inside the Slave Trade (Civil War Savannah), received the 2012 Award for Excellence in Research from the Georgia Historical Records Advisory Board. The Award was issued by then Georgia Secretary
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Still, after yet another week there on the boat, I know why they say people go there and are never heard from again. The locals call it a quaint drinking village with a fishing problem....lol
Walt
Ron
Love, Pierre
(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in Tx., Karen Lynn. :D
This is stunning - verse and image take us to a unspoiled place, untouched by humanity's greed - well done.
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
Love,
ET
Love t8inka
hugs
fee
John