Poems About Surfing

Wrestling with the surf,
he may lose, or win
on his golden board.

He'll be back for certain, lipsliding,
reclining, bottom-turning, frontsiding.

Then, as sea gulls fly high
above, he'll serenely lie
and wash ashore.

Cross-Stepping

Cross-stepping goofy-footed
is for the sun-drenched brave on
days of swiftly moving waves.

Each step is an arc of
triumph, a position of power,
a way to walk the wave by
gathering strength each hour.

Left foot from the back
and cross over the right,
plant it firm and go again.

As misty waters move around
and entrap the surfer like a cage,
he naturally comes of age; by
the water he's no longer bound.

Gracefully Gliding

The day is long, his time is short,
but he is driven not to abort
the hours he has to ride the waves.

Gliding through wind and feeling a soft
mist blowing into his bright red face,
a surfer rides the crest and oft
bends low, then slowly rises again.

His mission is simple: to ride
the surging water well and not
dispell the dangers, or to hide.

To take on all in one flowing form
without losing a single slash
or an acrobatic, daring dash;
that is his goal.

For him it's about the gliding glow,
the perfectly formed flow, and
being one in wind on board and water.

At Day's End

At day's end, the royal
blend of sun and earth
sends the boarder to
cast off again, paddling
out to meet the waves
he cannot still but tries
again, until body and soul
are like the blend of
earth and moon.

Of Water and Wind

Paddling gently out to greet
high waves of breaking surf,
the rider is certain to meet
with thrashing water bound
to toss him, submerse him
and threaten him all around.

The boarder admits to no master
but wind and water may spell
his swirling, boiling disaster,
while still the surfer looks
to greater thrills, a better
way to conquer and hook
those mighty powers of Nature.

/Surfing Resource: www.ehow.com/