Seashell Splendor: Poem

Title: Seashell Splendor
By: Bruce Hackmann

Bursting bubbles spray their beautiful bouquet
With each crashing wave to the shore.
As the beachcomber combs the bay
In search of treasures to adore

Washed to the sandy shore the ocean roar
The rhythmic tide plays it's musical score
Seashells decorate with their color and form
Sunlight, sand, and seahorses ready to perform

Auger, Turkey Wing, and Tooth Shells collect to play the strings
Sea Urchins, Buttercup and Fan Shell fill the percussion
Tulip, Junonia, and Fig Shells assemble as woodwinds
The Queen and Crown Conch gather as the brass

Thousands of Coquina, Pen, and Clam Shells join the ensemble
Searching,  I take my place as their Conductor

I feel the musical pulse of the performers
Waves and wind control the metrical rhythms
We play till my soul reaches it's crescendo
Leaving the symphony now my heart feels such sorrow

I treasure this orchestra; to be apart of something so great
People question the treasures; they see, I don’t take
What I see with my ears and eyes
I gather all the treasures one could find

I love their beautiful sonata, ‘Seashell Splendor’

Beachcomber: Poem

Title: Beachcomber
By: Bruce Hackmann

Wind of the sea, tell me a tale:

“There is a wanderer that walks the shore
Gathering items I’ve brought from the ocean floor
The drifter will stop to take in my fresh sea breeze
They look around, surf, sand, and sun in the Keys

The forager will poke and prod at the pieces I’ve delivered
Exploring the many treasures I’ve washed ashore to be considered
The gatherer kneels in the sand as the surf swirls
Searching for gems and jewels or some precious pearls

The scrounger on their hands and knees scurried through the sand
I like to send’em a nice comber wave to see them stand
The accumulator wasn’t finding any treasures on this side of the bay
So I mustered a big wave to send this beachcomber on his way”

A New Day: Poem

Title: A New Day
By: Bruce Hackmann

As I recall the details

From the sounds of midnight silence, it all started to bloom 

Birds greeted the dawn with their new song

Lapping of the waves softly kissed the shore

As the white pines whispered sweet nothings in my ear

The coo of the Mourning Dove calling it's mate

My eyes witnessed the birth of a new day

As the midnight mist evaporated off the lake

Rays from the sun stretched to the earth

Flowers basked in the glow of the dawn

The morning sky colored my world

As the scent of pine mingled with the morning dew

It was a glorious birth of a new day

Lust: Poem

Title: Lust
Poems by Bruce

When I sense your presence
I feel an unquenchable desire
Looking into your eyes I lust for your essence
My heart couldn’t race any higher

Your lips so full and luscious
Like a piccolo they sparkle with brilliance
Your lips on mine so precious
The kiss would feel the resplendence

The curvature of your thighs so elegant
Like a fiddle so sweet and sensual
Touching your skin would be so decadent
Fingers caressing your thighs so sexual

Your breast so warm and tender
Like a harmonica playing pleasure and joy
My tongue would dance to hear your tenor
I feel your ecstasy; why are you so coye

My Inamorata, My Love: Poem

Title:  My Inamorata, My Love
By: Bruce Hackmann

My love
My Inamorata
My heart is here for you

The style of your grace; my heart would sing
My sweetheart
I'd pour my affection over you; If you were mine
My sweetheart

My heart is here for you to take
Hold me, hold me close, my darling

With stars in your eyes; my heart would shine
My sweetheart
I'd pour my love over you; If you were mine
My sweetheart

With your kiss I feel the blush of wine
Hold me, hold me close, my darling

The sparkle of your smile; my heart would melt
My sweetheart
I'd pour passion over you; if you were mine
My sweetheart

Hold me, hold me close, my darling
My heart is here for you to take

With your open arms; my heart is yours
My sweetheart
I’d pour myself over you; If you were mine
My sweetheart

My heart is here for you
My Inamorata
My love

Golden Tress: Poem

Title: Golden Tress
By: Bruce Hackmann

I dream of golden days
Touching your waves of crystal
Oh, how one counts the ways
Spring air makes it so wistful

Radiance of warmth, who is the one
With luminous waves of such finesse
Light may seem to stream from you the sun
But, I bask in the glow of her golden tress