canadian author / canadian poetry / natasha head / poems

The Sands of Shipman’s Beach


Along the shores of Shipmans Cove
The sand and rocks do meet
With seacrest foam the crab will roam
And grab at toes and feet

Along the rails at Shipmans Pier
The sea spray tells a tale
Of a heart turned and lovers scorned
Of love destained to fail

Along the sands of Shipmans Beach
When moon is bright and full
Footsteps appear, though no ones near
Just the whisper of tide’s pull

His tale begins with youth and grace
Young love so fresh and new
He saw her dance, became entranced
And knew his heart was through.

She came from lands across the sea
And smelled of wild rose
She chased the waves and loved to play
With sand between her toes.

A taste of the city on Shipmans Wharf
He was the envy of his friends.
They held hands and made big plans
Of when they would begin.

She loved the sun but worshipped moon
At night she came alive
She’d lure him out, they’d take a boat
Enjoying moonlit ride

On the pier at Shipmans Cove
Beside rail number four
Each night at ten, never later than
They’d meet at high tide’s roar

And so he waited one cool clear night
But his love, she did not show.
On sand below with water’s tow
Her footsteps softly glowed

Beneath the pier at Shipmans Cove
Her steps were not alone.
Proof of fight in darkened night
Sent fear throughout his bones.

Through high waves he ran with fright
Searching where he could
But her soul was lost, their love the cost
And heal he never would.

Along the sands of Shipmans Beach
When moon is bright and full
Footsteps appear, though no one’s near
Just the whisper of tide’s pull

         Natasha Head

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3 thoughts on “The Sands of Shipman’s Beach

  1. wonderfully descriptive, so sad that she didn't live, and we may never know, just what brought her so, yet footsteps still appear, quite a journey did you steer…smiles…i really enjoyed this tash…

  2. This another one that should be set to music. Atmposheri, as Diana said, and the tragedy of the ill fated affair made worse by the seeming joy their meeting. Such subtle drama and the precise procession of your words make us want to know the details even as we ponder the ghost story whispered by the tide's pull. Gripping and huanting and so lovely.

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