the beach at midnight (poem) by Gene Williamson on AuthorsDen

Reviewed on July 21, 2009

Such vivid memories of a time from yesterday ... so deep, and almost painful, to see oneself on the beach at midnight. Wonderfully written piece! ~Elizabeth

Reviewed by Patricia Martin

Reviewed on March 31, 2009

Ah. Yes. The point where we are able to step out of life and begin living. For an hour, for a day, and for some lucky people, a lifetime. I'm rooting for the hero to keep walking ...

Patti Martin

Reviewed by Chanti Niven

Reviewed on March 13, 2009

I really loved this atmospheric poem. You have such an original style and after reading some of your other work, versatility. It's good to read the work of an accomplished and talented poet.
Chanti

Reviewed by Bill Grimes Jr.

Reviewed on March 5, 2009

I have a vivid picture in my mind you have painted for me Gene........The beach has always been a refuge for me.....even as I am landlocked in North Bama......Time passes quickly and dreams invade in the salty breeze and cool moonlit sand......This is quite beautiful my friend and I thank you sincerely for allowing me to share your moment in time.....

Peace,

Bill :-)

Reviewed by OnepoetGem *the Poetic Rapper

Reviewed on March 4, 2009

I like the beach when the sun is shinning mean Gene, but your verse is cool, cool as a midnight breeze

Reviewed by Art Hernandez

Reviewed on March 3, 2009

Nice Gene...an enjoyable read...

Art Sun...

Reviewed by Ed Matlack

Reviewed on March 1, 2009

Gotta carry that flashlight on the beach, lest he could break his proverbial neck & having a dog along for that midnight stroll gives protection if needed...(how did I miss this poem for so long) Ed & Rufuz [w00f]

Reviewed by Juliet Waldron

Reviewed on February 28, 2009

The trip and fall takes him to earth, where he grounds and clears! As always, a cleansing visit to Mother Ocean with Gene.

Reviewed by A Serviceable Villain

Reviewed on February 27, 2009

Gene~!

Great imagery . . . well-delivered penning - thanks!!

Blessings,

Lance

Reviewed by Victoria's Poetry & Voices of Muse

Reviewed on February 25, 2009

Wonderful Poem Gene
And May I Say What a Tresured Visual
Being I Love Adventures & to see parts of an ole ship a float so to speak in the sand would be an amazing find...your words take us into those looming echoes of yesterday lingering amidst "the beach at midnight"

Peace, Love & Poetry
Much Love Vickie

Reviewed by Carole Mathys

Reviewed on February 25, 2009

There is something mystical about walking the beach at the witching hour...the imagery your talented pen scribed puts me there at my favorite place, by the sea

Carole~

Reviewed by J'nia Fowler

Reviewed on February 25, 2009

Very emotive Gene. I sense the isolation and the internal acceptance of what was and what is. I love the line, "in his head the slap of the surf." And this while he is flat out on the sand. Youssa! Thanks for this piece Gene. Hugs, J'nia

Reviewed by Bonnie May

Reviewed on February 25, 2009

What a beautifully written piece Gene...it gives such a beautiful feeling of relaxation and at the same time floods our memories of the times we've spent at the ocean...thanks for the memories...love and hugs, Bonnie

Reviewed by Liana Margiva

Reviewed on February 25, 2009

I LOVE YOUR WORDS!!!!!!!!!!!!! Liana Margiva

Reviewed by Dawn Anderson

Reviewed on February 24, 2009

Gene, not only do I love your verse and imagery, but the feel to this. This is really good...it goes into my library.

Reviewed by David Hightower

Reviewed on February 24, 2009

Gene - Enjoyed the solitary atmosphere and the imagery that makes me feel the sand and breeze and surf. Liked the way you used the imagery throughout the poem to suggest the past, as in,
"... he turns to run
trips over the flotsam of a sunken ship

all leading to the last lines:

troubled thoughts immersed
in the isolation of the midnight beach

he walks away from yesterday

- David

Reviewed by Sandie May Joyce

Reviewed on February 24, 2009

I've often imagine myself walking on the beach for relaxation; and reading this poem gives me the kind of relaxation. Powerful imagery!! I enjoyed this!!!

Sandie Angel :o)

Reviewed by Regis Auffray

Reviewed on February 24, 2009

You have recaptured and shared the moments and the mood effectively via your verses, Gene. Love and peace to you,

Regis

Reviewed by Lloyd Lofthouse

Reviewed on February 24, 2009

Strong images. I was on that beach with him listening to the surf and seeing that light out at sea. I felt his rush of adrenaline from the shock of hearing those erotic cries. Walking the sands at night is a good place to be when visiting memories and like all night jaunts, a scary place that may startle or surprise.

Reviewed by Jon Willey

Reviewed on February 24, 2009

we are often faced with the prospects for retreat from memories when reality suddenly confronts us at the most inopportune moment -- I am still a little questioning as to where the erotic cries were coming from -- my guess was behind the dunes -- but if they were erotic, they sure couldn't be bad -- another creative piece from your masterful muse and pen -- much love and peace to you my dear friend--Jon Michael

Reviewed by John Flanagan

Reviewed on February 24, 2009

Gene,
Sea and beach and salt air are a wonderful diet for you and for us, your very lucky readers; this is rich in sight and sound and so evocative, suggesting an unintentional but indiscreet stumble upon lovers. Fine poetry, as always.
John

Reviewed by E T Waldron

Reviewed on February 24, 2009

A beautifully written reverie, surrounded by an ocean of memories

Love,
Eileen

Reviewed by F William Broome

Reviewed on February 24, 2009

You took us there. You exposed us. You wash us along with self.
Are we cleaner? YES! Another day awaits. Damned deep writing, and of the stuff wich relates well. Thanks. - Bill

Reviewed by John Coppolella

Reviewed on February 24, 2009

The moonless beach/nighttime, AD/nighttime, clear your head/breeze/tide/retreat from troubled thoughts, leaving only a head full of erotic cries and the whisper of the pines (s)weeping over the barren dunes of your life and mind...Beautiful imagery and metaphors, Gene. Great!

Reviewed by Karla Dorman, The StormSpinner

Reviewed on February 24, 2009

Gene,

Richly imaged, I could smell the ocean air ... and I adore "slap of the surf" and "the night excited by erotic cries." Well done!

(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.