A Network of Writing and Community Publishers

'The Ocean'
August 2011

04 May 2012


If I were a fish
I would swim in the sea
the ocean would be
the place for me.

I would search for oysters
and have a great feast
then swim far away
from other fat beast.

I would stay down below
and hide in the cave
behind the tall boulders
being small, I’m not brave.

And when the big whalers
with sailors on board
would harpoon the whales
in my head I’ll record.

How lucky I am
to be a small fish
too little to fill
a big sailors dish.

I am safe in the sea
far away from the beach
under the ocean
where anglers can’t reach.


The ocean

green, blue
glittering, changing, calming
foam, whitecap, flood tide, ebb tide
sparkling, surfing, coming

Marie Neumann

Whale haiku

Whale sings sweet and clear
In harmony with its world
Blue as the ocean.

Written for the GROW calendar 2011 - Animal Kingdom

Jan Hedger


I was five
when I first saw the sea,
vast and expansive
another world for me.

White and frothy,
like snow peaked mountains,
windy and wild,
seedlings drop,
apple blossoms
scattered on the water.

Now gone memories wander,
Blown away.

Sue Rabbett

Through murky shadows

Last night I swam with dolphins
They led me into peace
I sank through murky shadows
A calm and blessed release

I was at one with the sea
I feared no hurt or harm
All my burdens floated up
God's gift, a magic charm

I chased the tiny fishes
That nibbled on my toes
I bathed in balmy waters
That dissolved all my woes

I floated in warm safety
Support from every side
I skimmed along the current
Flowed with the dreaming tide

I didn't want to surface
I wanted to remain
Deep in the wishful ocean
That carried all my strain

I addressed the court of whales
And told them of my wish
To exchange breath of sorrow
For freedom of the fish

I think that they understood
How bad it felt to live
Above the ocean's surface
With its all take, no give

I never heard their answer
I got caught in a net
And hauled up to the surface
Chilled by night air and wet

I shivered on the top deck
Restrained by thoughtless men
Who boasted of their rescue
Of this bedraggled hen

The ozone burning my lungs
I coughed and choked distress
Head screaming 'just throw me back
My life here is a mess.'

Words that I dare not utter
Poured from my streaming eyes
I rocked with sobs of anguish
Watched by indifferent skies

I had so nearly made it
Through the blockade of death
Thought I had surely taken
My last and final breath

But life would not give me up
Into the ocean's peace
So I sink through murky shadows
And long for blessed release.

Ashley Jordan

Sea at Sunset

I blush to see the fallen sun
All blowsy whorls and dimpled gait
I carry, drop, push and pull
Open up to let her in
Tempt her with a saline promise
I half intend to keep
Until she no longer knows
Which way she ought to go

Open mouthed I wait
Wait for her to lumber in
Slip from her ordained path
Although I know
It will be the end
For us both

Ashley Jordan

I saw the camel flood
I saw the camel flood
Beneath the turtle moon
That lit the beach like noon
Turned the ocean to blood,
Changed sand from gold to mud,
December into June
I saw
The storm flecked breakers thud
Against the towering dune
Collected driftwood strewn
Leaning into the scud
I saw
The 'camel' is another word for pontoon (temporary floating bridge) and describes the moon-path reflected on the sea. This poem is about a beach in the aftermath of a storm. I hope the explanation doesn't kill it for you :-)

Ashley Jordan


I have a cargo filled with dreams
of things I want to do,
To sail upon the ocean
my yacht would host a crew.

I could be the captain
with a pocket filled with gold,
I would view the treasures
of which I had been told.

But then my feet had never trod
much further than a beach,
The sea was always miles away
much too far to reach.

My childhood told of many things
a city child could do,
But never took me very far
from tower blocks, that’s true.

But dreams can take you anywhere
upon the land or sea,
Just close your eyes to wander
the magic world with me.

You don’t need wings to fly
a word to open doors,
My books are all I really need
the key to distant shores.



On Hunstanton beach Norfolk, with the 'I ain't got no pool' blues;
believe me, Manningham Pool was blue, I couldn't get that indoor,
chemicalised, light infused blue out of my mind, but it was gone. The
Pool doors were locked on the country's last functioning Edwardian
baths, the tee-lights that we left on the last swimming night were

gutted, and the ghosts of a hundred years swimming crowded down the
shallow end to wail like banshees. I had been held, cosseted, and
stroked by it for ten years, and as I watched the waves lift and crash,
felt the first chill of water lap against my toes, I wondered how I
could start over with the sea. Having family helps,...there's a turn of the century picture of 'them', not sure who now, on Hunstanton beach,
where the Mann's had they had their beach hut, but they are clothed.

They haven't sacrificed their dignity to look like small weight lifters
or submerged cat walkers, but you can see it in their eyes; they would
love to have a swim.

Bruce Barnes

Oceans Apart

Upon the oceans, deep and vast,
Many people in the past
Would hoist their sails upon the foam
To find a place to call their home.

Some were fleeing persecution,
Some in fear of destitution,
Others taken forcibly
To be sold into slavery.

From Europe and from Africa
They gathered in America,
Australia and Canada,
The Welsh in Patagonia.

The English, Irish, German, Scot,
The wandering Jew, a melting pot
Into the ocean they did drift,
A massive population shift.

And that is how it is today,
Migration hasn’t gone away.
You will always see disorder
Every time they close a border.

It is natural to flee;
Life is best across the sea
And despite our place of birth
We’re really citizens of Earth.

Andrew Diamond
Goodmayes Writers


You see the waves rise up so high
From the shore they seem to touch the sky.
Rising and falling, in and out
With all the rubbish people throw about.
They’re used for sport of all kind
If you look they’ll be surfing and swimming you’ll find.
They may look good and can be fun
But in there you’ll find dangers for some.
People could die if they don’t take care
They could drown or fall off a boat somewhere.
Then there are creatures off the sea
And that’s not where you want to be.
Fish that can kill by sting or bite
Then you sink out of site.
Those wonderful waves will pull you down
That’s another way you can drown.
There are people who are trained for rescue
But there is only so much they can do.
The Coastguard can watch while the Life Boat does their job
They might have do dive or only bob.
The waves still give them a challenge though
They splash on the windows then they can’t see where to go.
So don’t take chances on things you can’t do
Help may be there but secretly they’re not happy with you.
So just keep it safe there’s beauty in the waves
You can see them hit walls and enter some caves.
Bring along a camera so you’re ready for the shot
Just by doing that you’ll get a lot.

Jamie Fidgett


Clouds, heavy with rain
Embrace the ocean
Shed salty tears
At the reunion

The sea heaves and sighs
She knows they will soon part
Although they vow that this time
This time it will be different
Forces greater than themselves
Are at work.

Ashley Jordan

The Ocean

The ocean is wild and fast,
Deep and strong.
Powerful motions
Deep emotions

You can swim
And exercise yourself.
Exercise your body
It's a place to lose yourself.

Sue Horncastle

The Pier


Glimmering in the distance. The Pier, a tribute to the masters of engineering, stands as a testament to all things ancient and archaic.

Along the wooden pathway stand the rows of street lighting, illuminating
this picturesque setting, against the backdrops of the waves, resplendent in their vastness. The sea engulfs the wooden struts, supporting the framework, as a force of defiance, against the power of nature.

Engineers of words, Masters of Construction
We are here to enjoy it
Poetic spirits rise from the mist of crashing waves
We are here to enjoy it

The pier is devoid of inhabitants, apart from a solitary figure, walking
close to it’s outer edge and a young mother, with demanding children,
clinging, pulling,draging as if to escape from their own security.

The shadows of the building, cast fear and dread. As spirits of the past reduce the suns last light, to a hazy mist.

The tower at it’s end stands a spectral creation, from a different time and era, defying the modern day structures of this town around me.

Engineers of words, masters of construction
We are here to enjoy it
Poetic spirits rise from the mist of crashing waves
We are here to enjoy it

The still calmness of the day, evokes such melancholy taking me back to a time of serene beauty, as described in the early days of the masters of Poetry,

Paul Evans
Stevenage Survivors

Waves of Emotion

The sea appears ghostlike
From under the blanket of mist
Its waves gently rising
Gently falling, until…
It stealthily reaches the shore
Encroaching; Encompassing;
Possessing all within its grasp
Until… At the turn of the tide
It leaves as ghostly and
As gently as it came.

The sea rages forth
Beneath the stormy clouds
Its waves violently crashing
Violently pounding, until…
It throws itself on to the shore
Forcefully; Fiercely;
Powerful in its intent
Until… At the turn of the tide
Against its will, it retreats
Its mighty force spent.

The sea mirrors the blue sky
In the reflection of the baking sun
With hardly a wave at all
It lazily, seductively laps
At the foot of the golden shore
Luxuriantly; Lusciously;
Romantic in its embrace
Until… At the turn of the tide
It yields to its masters call
And the spell is broken.

Jan Hedger

Crescendo of Waves

His hands; small, compact, yet not feminine
often cold, yet to her always gentle and soft
moved across the keys in a deft movement
of musicality and feeling for the notes portrayed
connecting; bringing warmth to his body.

She saw palm trees bowed against the hurricane
their chestnut barks as tough as an elephants hide
withstanding the onslaught of the wroth; opposite
of the fragile hands that were building the music
to a crashing crescendo of waves on a battered shore.

He did not fully hear her declaration of intense and
unconditional love. Consumed within his own
interpretation, he merely shrugged in reply
and she knew the moment was lost; as the dying
notes faded into the emptiness of the room.

Jan Hedger


Your Name: jan hedger

Your Comment: Giggle Andrew - I just talk too much and Nigel switches off - hardly ever go down the reading my poetry route!
Marie punchy words of a punchy ocean!

Your Name: Andrew Diamond
Your Comment: Writing poems at 6.00am is less fun than writing them at 3.30 in the morning. I've even been known to wake my wife up and ask her for a pen; then to read her what I've written. When I haven't
written a poem I sometimes wake her to give her songs from the shows or a bible reading. It's a wonder I'm still alive!

Your Name: jan hedger
Your Comment: Sadly 6am is now only my alarm call for work! Words have to wait!  I see the day is warm and sunny on the top deck of our cruise ship Sally! Shall we dress for dinner later?
Great trio Ash - words as deep as an ocean. Explanation didn't detract!

Your Comment: You are more than welcome, that was a 6am poem would you believe, I am always amazed at the contributions, it was a wonderful idea, it keeps my mind working, and everyone else as well, I love the diversity and directions the themes always take, keep them coming, I love them all Sally

Your Comment: Jan you are more than welcome, I love reading the
submissions each month, perhaps we should organize a cruise on this
ocean, who would be up for it? Sally

Your Name: jan hedger
Your Comment: Sally I'll come with you on your sea of dreams - lovely!

Your Name: jan hedger
Your Comment: The tide is coming in and we have some great entries! May the waves be with you!

Your Name: Ashley Jordan
Your Comment: What a brilliant start to this month's challenge - well done everyone :-)


Visit TheFED GroupSpace
Community Web Kit provided free by BT