Every season has its peaks and valleys. What you have to try to do is eliminate the Grand Canyon.
quote by Andy Van Slyke
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Life is supposed to be a series of peaks and valleys. The secret is to keep the valleys from becoming Grand Canyons.
quote by Bern Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Jagged Edges
Imagine, yourself-no, be there! -in a canyon,
Crisscrossed with sharp steel edges,
Rim to rim,
The Grand Canyon of canyons;
You're at the bottom-
There is no way out
Unslicing yourself.
That's the blues, not the greens,
(Like the colored wedges) ,
You feel wedged in every day
In the canyon of imperfection.
poem by Stan Petrovich
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Peaks
In the night
Grey heavy clouds muffled the valleys,
And the peaks looked toward God alone.
'O Master that movest the wind with a finger,
Humble, idle, futile peaks are we.
Grant that we may run swiftly across the world
To huddle in worship at Thy feet.'
In the morning
A noise of men at work came the clear blue miles,
And the little black cities were apparent.
'O Master that knowest the meaning of raindrops,
Humble, idle, futile peaks are we.
Give voice to us, we pray, O Lord,
That we may sing Thy goodness to the sun.'
In the evening
The far valleys were sprinkled with tiny lights.
'O Master,
Thou that knowest the value of kings and birds,
Thou hast made us humble, idle futile peaks.
Thou only needest eternal patience;
We bow to Thy wisdom, O Lord -
Humble, idle, futile peaks.'
In the night
Grey heavy clouds muffled the valleys,
And the peaks looked toward God alone.
poem by Stephen Crane
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In the night
In the night
Grey heavy clouds muffled the valleys,
And the peaks looked toward God alone.
"O Master that movest the wind with a finger,
Humble, idle, futile peaks are we.
Grant that we may run swiftly across the world
To huddle in worship at Thy feet."
In the morning
A noise of men at work came the clear blue miles,
And the little black cities were apparent.
"O Master that knowest the meaning of raindrops,
Humble, idle, futile peaks are we.
Give voice to us, we pray, O Lord,
That we may sing Thy goodness to the sun."
In the evening
The far valleys were sprinkled with tiny lights.
"O Master,
Thou that knowest the value of kings and birds,
Thou hast made us humble, idle futile peaks.
Thou only needest eternal patience;
We bow to Thy wisdom, O Lord --
Humble, idle, futile peaks."
In the night
Grey heavy clouds muffled the valleys,
And the peaks looked toward God alone.
poem by Stephen Crane
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Special Greeting card
I was really amazed
It's from our Grandson!
A pencil drawing of a Gocart
Two old fashioned figures sitting inside
And he pushes.
Oh! He writes poetry in capital letters
Perhaps he thinks that we cannot read simple letters?
'Do not worry my dear Grandma & Grandpa
Sorry, I heard that your car has run into a junk-yard.
When I come to America
I'll push you to Grand Canyon in my cart
If you guide me along the road?
I pasted some pictures of Grand Canyon on my scrap-book
You know my girl friend 'Priyanwada' gave me.'
*I added this;
Hey! Sonny you looks like your naughty old Man
And why don't you send us her photograph?
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Human’s traits
Abundance will not eliminate begging.
Prosperity will not eliminate stealing.
Punishment will not eliminate killing
Availability will not eliminate adultery.
They are all traits we must live with.
25.03.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Heavenly Hills of Holland
The heavenly hills of Holland,--
How wondrously they rise
Above the smooth green pastures
Into the azure skies!
With blue and purple hollows,
With peaks of dazzling snow,
Along the far horizon
The clouds are marching slow.
No mortal foot has trodden
The summits of that range,
Nor walked those mystic valleys
Whose colors ever change;
Yet we possess their beauty,
And visit them in dreams,
While the ruddy gold of sunset
From cliff and canyon gleams.
In days of cloudless weather
They melt into the light;
When fog and mist surround us
They're hidden from our sight;
But when returns a season
Clear shining after rain,
While the northwest wind is blowing,
We see the hills again.
The old Dutch painters loved them,
Their pictures show them clear,
Old Hobbema and Ruysdael,
Van Goyen and Vermeer.
Above the level landscape,
Rich polders, long-armed mills,
Canals and ancient cities,--
Float Holland's heavenly hills.
poem by Henry Van Dyke
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With what you don't know about me, I could just about fill the Grand Canyon.
quote by Kevin Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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As you go through life, you've got to see the valleys as well as the peaks.
quote by Neil Young
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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You go through life in a series of peaks and valleys.
quote by Gloria Grahame
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I believe in evolution. But I also believe, when I hike the Grand Canyon and see it at sunset, that the hand of God is there also.
quote by John McCain
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Climbing K2 or floating the Grand Canyon in an inner tube; there are some things one would rather have done than do.
quote by Edward Abbey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It's been a career filled with very low valleys and some wonderful, high peaks.
quote by Pat Morita
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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It's been a career filled with very low valleys and some wonderful, high peaks.
quote by Pat Morita
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It's like trying to describe what you feel when you're standing on the rim of the Grand Canyon or remembering your first love or the birth of your child. You have to be there to really know what it's like.
quote by Jack Schmitt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Publishing a volume of verse is like dropping a rose petal down the Grand Canyon and waiting for the echo.
quote by Don Marquis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Writing a book of poetry is like dropping a rose petal down the Grand Canyon and waiting for the echo.
quote by Don Marquis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Heart Attack (a Sestina)
What angelic chorals sing?
These messengers of heaven
Whose words are none of earth
Rising like mists amid the mountains
Rolling down to pastoral valleys
Stirring my fragile heart
My sullen, throbbing heart
Mumbling, for it can't quite sing
Its beat more full of valleys
Than peaks toward heaven
I miss those tracings in the shape of mountains
Which anchor me to this earth
Sweet, sweet earth
How you fill my heart!
Your noble, snowy mountains
Rising proudly to sing
At the feet of heaven
I long to see your valleys
To lay again in flowered valleys
Smelling the rich, black earth
Of my own personal heaven
Heal you traitorous heart!
I long to shout, to sing
Echoing from the mountains
Where are my mountains?
My rolling valleys?
The monitor, its dirge to sing
Strengthening my tether to earth
Even as my woefully tired heart
Slips to heaven
To forestall heaven
I labor to move mountains
As a constellation of disks record my heart
Etching flat valleys
Confirming i am still of this earth
With only a beep to mournfully sing
Each lull-to heaven, then up from the valleys
Drawn back to mountains and earth
As I wait for my heart to once again sing
poem by John Christensen
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That Is What A Kept Faith Does
After one has become accustomed,
To experience repeated attempts to reach peaks...
From cloud covered and mist strewn valleys,
Of course there is going to be some bragging...
When that brightness of a peak is reached.
Regardless of one's scars and bruised knees.
Or the pettiness of distant voices heard.
One's repeated attempts to reach peaks,
Develops a capability...
To even ignore pain.
That is what a kept faith does!
Especially if one is devoted and focused,
To accomplish heights,
That appear to beckon those who dare.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Baseball, it is said, is only a game. True. And the Grand Canyon is only a hole in Arizona. Not all holes, or games, are created equal.
quote by George Will
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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