Like sea-washed shells,
pink as babies’ nails,
poems surf the mind’s tide,
riding on the swell.
Salty words spill over
ochre sand; grey
whispers of spray
on pebbles, they
write themselves
in the ebb and flow
for the poet to harvest
before they’re windblown.
Kim M. Russell, 22nd October 2026
Lillian is our host for OLN today at the dVerse Poets Pub, when we can either link up a poem of our choice or be inspired by the optional prompt, which is simply to write a poem that includes three different colours. As I had already started a poem that would potentially have some colours, I’ve gone with the option prompt and written a quadrille.
I love the way you visualize the poem … I love if it comes as waves on the shore.
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Thanks so much, Björn. Poets and the sea go well together.
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PS: hope to see you at dVerse LIVE on Saturday!
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I’ll try.
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I absolutely LOVE what you’ve done with the colors prompt. The simile in the first stanza; salty words; grey whispers of spray; and the poet’s harvest. This is beautiful.
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Thank you so much, Lill!
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This is absolutely stunning, Kim! 😍 So much to love here especially; “grey whispers of spray on pebbles.” ❤️❤️
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Thank you so much, Sanaa. 💕
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“Salty words spill over
ochre sand” Bravo!!!
Much love
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Thankyou, Gillena, and much love to you!
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Beautiful thought of trying to organize chaos into poems ans thoughts… excellent poem, Kim! 🙏
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Beautiful description of the language that inspires a poem 🐚
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Thank you, Paula.
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Quadrilliffic!
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Beautifully crafted…
That last stanza is wonderful:
write themselves
in the ebb and flow
for the poet to harvest
before they’re windblown.
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Thank you very much, Ain,
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Kim, I love how you make poems feel like treasures washed ashore by the mind, waiting for the poet to gather them before the wind steals them away!
~David
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Thank you so much, David!
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🤗
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Stunning, Kim! “pink as babies’ nails” – wonderful. And I love the accompanying image too.
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Thanks so much, Nina!
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poems surf the mind’s tide,
write themselves
in the ebb and flow
for the poet to harvest
Love it, Kim…
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That makes me very happy, Andrew.
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Oh, such a great feeling to sit and feel like the poem just happens. Loved that visual.
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