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A cat that has been scalded is afraid of cold water.
The scalded dog fears hot water, and afterwards, cold.
Scalded cats fear even cold water.
quote by Thomas Fuller
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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From Mother To Daughter From Mother To Daughter.
Drink in some,
ice cold water little girl,
drink in some ice cold water,
some day you'll be big and strong,
but water will carry you all along.
Drink in some ice cold water little girl,
the day has been harsh to you,
the times are tough,
and getting rough,
but water will carry you though.
Drink in some ice cold water little girl,
although it's not getting easier,
refresh yourself,
from a nearby creek,
and maybe you'll see just what you need,
maybe water will show it to you.
Drink in some ice cold water little girl,
although you have grown much bigger,
you maybe be growing up strong and tall,
but water has carried you through.
Drink in some,
ice cold water little girl,
drink in some ice cold water,
some day you'll be big and strong,
but water will carry you all along.
poem by Sandra jacks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cold water
Water is cold water is wet,
Water is cold and can be a big mess...
Water is a teer dropp running down your cheek,
Water is the stuff that makes you feel weak...
Water can be good if you feel down,
Water can be bad if you don't come back around...
Water is a thing that can make you feel cold,
Water is a thing that can make you be bold...
Water is a cold, cold thing,
Everyone has water running through them...
poem by Alexandra Greif
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The coldest of the cold?
A greedy person’s Cold ambition
Or could it be Cold windy nights
The pureness of Cold clear water
Or the alien aspect of Cold neon lights
The careless Cold shoulder
The unfeeling Cold heart
The curse of Cold nature
Cold hands held apart
Could it be Cold feet
Could it be cold fears
Could it be cold weather
Or icy cold ears
Even above cold blood…
Even above… being apart
My choice of all, above, Would be
the unfeeling…of a cold, cold heart
poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pure Life
Where is your life going?
Is your water in a waterfall, dropping, and getting worse?
Or is it filling your glass, overflowing, and getting better?
Is your water still there?
Not evaporating?
Being dried up by the sun?
Are you losing time?
Do you watch how your water flows?
Water is pure and signifies life.
How is your life?
Or are you sad, with your water raining tears?
Is your water warm or cold?
Is your water steam or ice?
Is your soul cold or warm?
I hope your water is overflowing like a fountain with joy.
Not everyone's water has to be evaporating.
Remember to always watch where lifes heading.
Because maybe your water will mix and lives will intertwine.
Be with that person forever.
poem by Natalie Vail
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Glass Of Water Please
and so the story wants to end itself with a
glass of water.
those who cry after always need
a glass of water.
those whose hearts are broken
those who sob
those who close the window of the niche
those who have nightmares
those who wake up at 3 o'clock in the morning
those who sit on bed and cannot sleep back
always go to the kitchen
open the refrigerator
get a glass and splash
a cold glass of water
this time, i am asking for a glass of water
for i could be
all of the above or you could be one of those
i have described
but who knows we are not one of those
who knows
we are but just anyone who is normally thirsty
and with nothing to ask
simply ask
for a glass of cold water.
and cheerfully, we do not forget to say
please....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Holloween poem
She loves to move alone over cold water,
She knows to move over the dark, cold water;
She loves to toss a coin into the cold, dark water,
To know it is lost beneath the water,
To later know it alone beneath the dark water.
Under the city, in the dark,
Water flows over perpetual rock.
She knows her tower above the city,
She loves to hover over the city, to see
The marrow pulse and glow, she knows
The death moan of the city, how it jewles,
How it counts, how it stretches over the shuttered provinces,
To the farthest border.
Under the city, in the dark,
Water flows over perpetual rock.
She is a ghost in the air, an Ariel;
She tells the screamers till there is silence,
She silences the wolf and the seal, the fouled horse;
She stares the hollow to remorse, to
Recall the cold, the dark, she loves
To move alone with the dark, cold water.
Under the silk-crack, the skyscape,
Under the cry-field, the tool room,
Under the city, in the dark,
Water flows over perpetual rock
poem by Rozen Maiden
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Washed Away
It's hard to tell
what exactly is streaking my face
the water pouring over me
or the water leaving my eyes
Trying to use the scolding hot water
use it to wash away everything
the world
the pain
The warm water
running over me
then to the drain
taking nothing with it
The cool water
flowing into the drain
none of the pain circling with it
no matter how much I want it to
The cold water
making me shiver
numbing me
inside and out
Ice cold water
freezing my veins
finally ridding me of pain
leaving nothing
The only sign of life
is the slight shiver
I get when I think of what happen
when I think of her.
poem by Kaysen Fraker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Water On The Ground
By eric clapton
Water on the ground, cloud on the sun,
Moon on the rise and the wind on the run.
But you know its only water,
Water on the ground.
Snow is falling, weather is cold.
Maybe Im just getting old.
And I think its only water,
Water on the ground.
Back to the rivers, back to the sea,
Keeps on running, just like me.
But you know its only water,
Water on the ground.
song performed by by Eric Clapton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Boston
Where the ferries come to shore
She never really knew how good it would feel
To finally find herself in a place so warm and real
She wears a Red Sox cap
To hide her baby dreads
The girl she was in New England
Is different now and dead
In all the local bars
She flirts and tells the boys while they're talkin'
She's from Boston
She comes from Boston
Talks to her family now and then
Through e-mails and postcards
She tries to explain to them
That education and occupation will have to wait for now
She loves the Rasta, reggae rhythms, her dreams have changed somehow
She wears a Red Sox cap
To hide her baby dreads
The girl she was in New England
Is different now and dead
In all the local bars
She flirts and tells the boys while they're talkin'
She's from Boston
Her toes dig deep and deeper in the sand
She's seduced by the sunsets and her new life at hand
She wears a Red Sox cap
To hide her baby dreads
The girl she was in New England
Is different now and dead
In all the local bars
She flirts and tells the boys while they're talkin'
She's from Boston
She wears a Red Sox cap
To hide her baby dreads
From Boston
song performed by by Kenny Chesney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Sad Spring
The Spring weeps, she is forlorn;
Well that she may weep, alas!
Now that many babes are born
Whose dear fathers lie in grass.
Snowdrops in the frozen earth
Faint and are not comforted;
Never was so sad a birth,
Never was so sad a bed.
She must bear her pangs alone.
Where is sorrow like to hers?
In an anguish cold as stone
Her dead soldier's child she bears.
Now her trembling arms will hold
Close the piteous downy thing
To a milky breast as cold
As the frozen water-spring.
Now she hopes and dreads to find
Likeness in the little son
To his father, brave and kind.
Like or not, her heart's undone.
Tender nurslings born in pain,
Mother's comfort, mother's grief,
When her tears run down like rain,
Lord, bring Thou a handkerchief.
Wipe the widow's tears away,
Father orphan boys and girls.
Lead them out where they may play,
With Thy hand upon their curls.
poem by Katharine Tynan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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4. Elements – Water
Water an elemental
Water a fundamental
Building block of life
Water of Life
Water of Death
Water in all religions
Water in all living things
Water in all countries
Water also used for barter
No life without water
No rife with water
No respect for water
Willful neglect of water
Water, for cooking
Water, for cleaning
Water, for drinking
Water, for living
Water, for dying
Water is the same
In all languages
Water is the same
To all living beings
poem by Anand Dixit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Running Out Of Bait
My squirlbush is an undercover spy--
Hidden under a grand aka...
Writing the baiting words for surrender...
Is for him just a day of game play;
He alerted me to the awareness of potpan...
Squirlbush directed my eyes--
Into the direction of boxes...
Thank God for undercover spies;
Thank you Squirlbush for the alarm...
Sending the ammonia far far away--
Clobhammer knows hes in hot water today--
Scalded-but wonder if he still can come out and play.
poem by Theodora Onken
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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