“Three Boys and the Sea (Speaking of Mary)” (By the Shore Where Mary Was Found Out)
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Introduction : What happens when three friends, a sunset, and a secret name meet by the sea? Laughter turns into confession, waves turn into verses, and somewhere between the jokes — a poet’s heart gets caught red-handed. Dive into “Three Boys and the Sea (Speaking of Mary)” — where friendship, poetry, and love all crash against the same shore.
“Three Boys and the Sea (Speaking of Mary)”
(By the Shore Where Mary Was Found Out)
It was just another morning, soft and wide,
waves humming low like secrets they hide.
I walked to the sea with my careless grin—
unaware of the tale that would soon begin.
Hamza sat there, calm and still,
the wind played games on the rocky hill.
Beside him a stranger, quiet and lean—
eyes that carried a thoughtful sheen.
“Hey, my brother!” I called his name,
the sea replied with its silver flame.
He smiled and said, “You came at last,”
and time, like a tide, forgot the past.
Then came the moment that changed the air,
“This is my cousin Shahzain—beware,”
Hamza laughed, “He bites with talk,”
and we three stood by the ocean’s walk.
Shahzain stared like he knew my face,
I felt that silence fill the space.
“Have we met before?” he said, unsure,
I shrugged, “First time, I can assure.”
But then he grinned, that sudden spark,
the kind that glows before it’s dark.
“Wait—you’re that poet I read one night,
the mad one who writes of love in light.”
He laughed, “Bro, I like what you write,
your words feel honest, wild, and bright.
But tell me—who’s Mary, the girl you chase?
She’s in your poems like she owns the place.
I said, “Shahzain, stop questioning me, bro,
like a seaside cop with secrets to know!
And wait—you even know about Mary too?
Tell me, man, who’s snitching to you?”
Hamza clapped, “Ah, he caught you fast,
the poet of heartbreaks that never last.
The one who hides Mary in every line—
but pretends she’s just a name, not a sign.”
I smiled, “Guess the rumors reached the sea,”
“So you’ve been stalking my words, I see.”
He said, “I’ve read your poems, every one—
your pain feels warm, like the evening sun.”
Hamza teased, “You fool, you made her stay,
now every reader knows what you pray.
Didn’t I say to keep her veiled?
But love took the lead, and reason trailed.”
“I smiled, ‘Yeah, I wrote with a flame,
but what’s a poet without her name?’”
If love’s a wound, then let it show—
if words are waves, let them flow.”
Then Shahzain said, “Be careful, bro,
your dad might read and let you go.”
I laughed, “Then I’ll live by the sea, I swear,
with poems for bread and love for air.”
Hamza grinned, “You’re mad, you know?”
“Yeah,” I said, “but madness grows.
We’re all a little cracked by fate—
it’s how the light gets in, too late.”
We talked till dusk began to bloom,
our shadows stretched across the gloom.
No crowns, no rules, just hearts set free—
three boys, one sunset, and the sea.
—Shahzad Sulaiman
Author’s Note (Summary) :
Last day, I went near the sea to meet my friend Hamza. To me, it was just another usual day — me meeting an old friend and catching up. I had no idea that something interesting was about to happen.
When I reached there, I saw Hamza sitting close to the shore. The wind was calm, the waves were whispering, and beside him sat another guy I had never seen before. I walked up to them and said, “Hey Hamza, my brother, how are you?”
Hamza smiled and replied, “Hey Shahzad, I’m fine. How are you?”
I said, “Yeah, I’m good too. But who’s this friend with you?”
He looked at the guy and said, “Oh, this? This is my cousin Shahzain.” Then he turned to him and added, “Shahzain, meet my friend Shahzad — he’s a medical student.”
And that’s when things started to get a little crazy.
Shahzain looked at me for a while, as if trying to recall something, and then asked, “Shahzad… have we met before somewhere?”
I replied, “No, I don’t think so. This is my first time seeing you.”
He turned to Hamza and said, “I swear I’ve seen him somewhere.”
Hamza asked, “Where?”
Shahzain paused and said, “What did you say he does again?”
Hamza answered, “He’s a medical student.”
When Shahzain heard that, he went silent for a moment — like he was putting some pieces together — and then suddenly said in a joyful voice, “Oh, I remember now! You’re the guy from that website — the one who writes poems, aren’t you?”
I smiled and said, “Maybe… and maybe not.”
Hamza stood up laughing and said, “Oh come on, don’t deny it, Shahzad — he already caught you! Yes, cousin, you’re right. He’s the crazy poet from that website.”
Shahzain laughed and said, “Crazy, really? I mean, I like what he writes. All his poems are so playful and emotional. But maybe you’re right — maybe he’s crazy… but crazy for Mary, perhaps?” Then he looked at me with a teasing smile and said, “Right, Shahzad?”
I was both surprised and a bit happy. I smiled and said, “Shahzain, stop interrogating me like a cop, bro. And wait— you even know about Mary? Did Hamza tell you about her?”
He laughed and said, “No, Hamza didn’t tell me. The thing is, I’ve read every poem of yours, and most of them are about a girl named Mary. That’s how I knew.”
Hamza burst out laughing and said, “See, Shahzad! I told you not to put her name in your poems, and what did you do? You mentioned her in every one of them. Now everyone knows about you and Mary!”
I looked at them both and said, “Really? Did I mess up that bad?”
Then Shahzain smiled and said, “Yeah bro, you shouldn’t have used her name so much. Now there’s even a chance your father knows about you and Mary.”
I laughed nervously and said, “Please, Shahzain, stop traumatizing me. My father will kick me out of the house if he finds out! And anyway, no one’s interested in my love story. Everyone’s got their own.”
Hamza shook his head and said, “True, everyone’s got their own story. But believe me, Shahzad — the way you write about her, the way you describe your love — I can tell everyone is interested in your story.”
Shahzain nodded and said, “Yeah, man. The way you describe every moment — anyone who reads your poems will want to know your love story.”
I smiled and said, “Yeah, maybe. But hey, I guess that’s who I am — a crazy poet and a crazy lover. You can’t blame me for being crazy; these days, everyone’s crazy in their own weird way.”
And just like that, we talked and we laughed. We sat there until the sun completely set, watching the sky turn gold and red over the waves. Three friends by the sea — nothing too crazy, just laughter, poetry, and the sound of the ocean keeping us company.
Wait… did this poem just touch your heart?
If this poem made you smile, blush, or think of someone special — maybe even someone you shouldn’t — give it a like, share your thoughts in the comments, and send it to a friend who’d feel it too. And don’t stop here — wander through my other poems, each one brewed with the same mix of love, laughter, and a little madness.
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