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The following is what's known as a "prose poem". It is not written in stanzas, but neither is it a free-form poem or blank verse. It is written in paragraph form, but draws upon poetic devices. This one has a few technical faults which I'm in the process of fixing, and a few things that can simply be done better. I have a lot of feedback on this one (so don't tell me that gulls don't chirp! I know!).There are two things I'm working toward in poetry. One is to present emotions and images. The other is to write with a fixed form of meter and rhymes and such. With a prose poem, I can concentrate on the first topic and simply not worry about the second. Also, these skills can be applied to normal writing.
The water slides forward over the beach and tickles my toes. The cold sting is like surprise kiss from a secret friend. The sea reaches forward again, hesitates, and draws back. She is beckoning me.I stand here on the edge. The sea is vast, vast beyond comprehension. She covers the globe, leaving only a portion untouched for the land we call home. All life came from the sea; will this one man return, for a short visit? The hot sun pours onto my skin, and the cool salt breeze blows it off. Gulls chirp overhead. Other people make a babble in the distance. The sound from the waves is both a whisper and a roar. The sea reaches toward me again, and the grains of sand around my feet dance at her touch. As if to say, see, the ground you stand on is nothing, all things return to me in time. And then the waves whisper "come". The sea reaches past me and then draws back. The water forms cold hands pulling my ankles. She tugs gently, but with awesome strength. But still I hesitate. She reaches out again, gently, and spills around my feet, not cold this time but warm and pleasant like a hug. I take a step or two, but go no farther. The water draws back again. The sea reaches out once more, but no gentle kiss! Foam turns to claws which rip huge chunks of sand out from where I'm standing. As she re-molds the beach with her touch, I have to hop and jump to keep from falling. "come to me" the wave roars. The knee deep water is warm and suddenly calm. The quietness seems to say I' m sorry for teasing so rough, I hope you're not mad. The water is inviting, the temptation now is too great. I lean forward, and embrace the next wave.