The Wild Swans At Coole
The trees are in their autumn beauty,
The woodland paths are dry,
Under the October twilight the water
Mirrors a still sky;
Upon the brimming water among the stones
Are nine-and-fifty Swans.
The nineteenth autumn has come upon me
Since I first made my count;
I saw, before I had well finished,
All suddenly mount
And scatter wheeling in great broken rings
Upon their clamorous wings.
I have looked upon those brilliant creatures,
And now my heart is sore.
All's changed since I, hearing at twilight,
The first time on this shore,
The bell-beat of their wings above my head,
Trod with a lighter tread.
Unwearied still, lover by lover,
They paddle in the cold
Companionable streams or climb the air;
Their hearts have not grown old;
Passion or conquest, wander where they will,
Attend upon them still.
But now they drift on the still water,
Mysterious, beautiful;
Among what rushes will they build,
By what lake's edge or pool
Delight men's eyes when I awake some day
To find they have flown away?
poem by William Butler Yeats
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Related quotes
Looking for Water
Still the leaves are spinning 'round
Take my hand as we go down, and down, and down
Looking for water
Well, our light's gone in a New York minute
Don't know about you, but my heart's not in it
(Looking, looking, looking)
I'm looking for water
I'm looking for water
(Looking, looking, looking)
I can't breathe the air, can't raise a fact
'Cause all we've got left is a beat in the night, and I'm
(Looking for water)
Looking for water
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
Take my hand as we go down, and down
Leave it all behind, nothing could be found
(I'm, looking for water)
I'm looking for water
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
(I, looking for water)
Looking everywhere
(Looking for water)
Looking here and there
(I'm looking for water)
I'm looking for water
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
I can't live in this cage, I can't eat this candy
The edge of the earth to the spin in my head
The look in your eyes and never means never
The dawn's early light, baby, dark is forever
(Looking, looking)
(Looking, looking)
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
I
(Looking for water)
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
I
(Looking for water)
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
I
(Looking for water)
(Looking for watter)
Looking, looking)
I
(Looking for water)
(Looking for watter)
Looking, looking)
I
(Looking for water)
(Looking for watter)
song performed by by David Bowie, music by David Bowie, lyrics by David Bowie from Reality
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Water Wings
Water Wings
I am of the water, and my dreams foretell my home.
I have dreamt of the water, it is where my mind does roam.
Life manages our paths by the steps that we take,
I want my path to lead to the ocean, where the waves do break.
The water glistens in my soul, and runs through my veins,
And when I am one with the water, I carry the reigns.
Whether on or under or flying above,
The water is my passion, it is my true love.
I wake from the night, from my hopes and my dreams
I wake to find a world with all water themes.
Surrounded by love and caressed by the air
I see the lord has accepted my little dare.
My dreams have become life, and I have transformed.
I am now an angel of the sea, and water wings I have formed.
The ocean, the sea, the lakes and rivers blue
They give me my strength and my life they do fuel.
My water wings glide and are as smooth as ice,
They are gift from the heavens and they much more than suffice.
I sit here and I rest, on the shore of the land,
Knowing, the lord is my savior, and my biggest fan.
poem by Rik Bertrand
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Maker of Heaven and Earth (All Things Bright and Beautiful)
All things bright and beautiful,
All creatures great and small,
All things wise and wonderful,
The Lord God made them all.
Each little flower that opens,
Each little bird that sings,
He made their glowing colours,
He made their tiny wings.
The rich man in his castle,
The poor man at his gate,
God made them, high or lowly,
And ordered their estate.
The purple-headed mountain,
The river running by,
The sunset, and the morning,
That brightens up the sky;
The cold wind in the winter,
The pleasant summer sun,
The ripe fruits in the garden,
He made them every one.
The tall trees in the greenwood,
The meadows where we play,
The rushes by the water,
We gather every day;--
He gave us eyes to see them,
And lips that we might tell,
How great is God Almighty,
Who has made all things well.
poem by Cecil Frances Alexander
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A thought after Yeats
When youth was life and life was youth
and life was love and love was life,
I thought love came and went;
its coming, overwhelming; and its going,
death of spirit; then, as if
the wild white swans had flown away
and left the waters of the heart’s lake cold.
But now I know it’s not like that:
love that, guarded, never flies from here in heart
to where it will, may grow dark, cold and miserly;
ungiven every livelong day
it turns to rags and dry old bones,
confiscated in the heart.
Better now, be with those wild white swans
which on a dark cold icy winter’s day
gather at the water’s edge to stretch
for yesterday’s warm loaf still fresh;
then turn, swim, lift strong wings and fly
one knows not where, and may not ask;
watch them then, into the distance;
hear the flap of wings grow into silent air;
pause still a little while;
then turn, one’s living breath
white in that winter air;
then back to warmth of home and love and peat fire
glowing in the hearth of heart renewed.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There Is A Swimming Pool In A Small Town (Orléans Rondel Prime)
There is a swimming pool in a small town
where water sparkles as blue as the sky,
where some bikini clad girls draw the eye,
with skin tanned to mahogany brown,
where from a diving board people dive down,
where time gets wings and quickly rushes by.
There is a swimming pool in a small town
where water sparkles as blue as the sky,
where a myriad of beautiful girls daily lie,
where the garden is somewhat overgrown
and children buy sweets, chips and pie,
while teens frolic until the sun does die.
There is a swimming pool in a small town
where water sparkles as blue as the sky.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Once by the Pacific
The shattered water made a misty din.
Great waves looked over others coming in,
And thought of doing something to the shore
That water never did to land before.
The clouds were low and hairy in the skies,
Like locks blown forward in the gleam of eyes.
You could not tell, and yet it looked as if
The shore was lucky in being backed by cliff,
The cliff in being backed by continent;
It looked as if a night of dark intent
Was coming, and not only a night, an age.
Someone had better be prepared for rage.
There would be more than ocean-water broken
Before God's last Put out the light was spoken.
poem by Robert Frost
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Keep Your Lure In The Water
Chorus:
Keep your lure in the water,
Don't just sit by the shore
There are souls to be caught
Everywhere in this old world
Go where hearts are plenty,
Don't just drift with the tide
Keep your lure in the water,
In the waters of life
The lord said, "Simon, haul your nets in
From now on you're a fisher of men"
Well, I like fishin',
That's why it caught my ear
The Lord knew how to get to me
And what I'd need to hear
Chous:
Keep your lure in the water,
Don't just sit by the shore
There are souls to be caught
Everywhere in this old world
Go where hearts are plenty,
Don't just drift with the tide
Keep your lure in the water,
In the waters of life
--- Instrumental ---
Well the sea is troubled
And it's hard to stay afloat
And you feel like Jesus
Is sleeping in the boat
Don't you dare give up
On the Prince of Peace
And in the middle of the storm
You will find a sweet release
Chorus:
Keep your lure in the water,
Don't just sit by the shore
There are souls to be caught
Everywhere in this old world
Go where hearts are plenty,
Don't just drift with the tide
Keep your lure in the water,
In the waters of life
Chorus:
Yeah, Keep your lure in the water,
Don't just sit by the shore
There are souls to be caught
Everywhere in this old world
Go where hearts are plenty,
Don't just drift with the tide
Keep your lure in the water,
In the waters of life
Yeah, keep your lure in the water,
In the waters of life...
song performed by by Randy Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Indian Summer
This is the sign!
This flooding splendour, golden and hyaline,
This sun a golden sea on hill and plain, --
That God forgets not, that He walks with men.
His smile is on the mountain and the pool
And all the fairy lakes are beautiful.
This is the word!
That makes a thing of flame the water-bird.
This mercy of His fulfilled in the magical
Clear glow of skies from dawn to evenfall,
Telling His Hand is over us, that we
Are not delivered to the insatiable sea.
This is the pledge!
The promise writ in gold to the water's edge:
His bow's in Heaven and the great floods are over.
Oh, broken hearts, lift up! The Immortal Lover
Embraces, comforts with the enlivening sun,
The sun He bids stand still till the day is won.
poem by Katharine Tynan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Whirl pool
Whirl pool
On lake...
At through the stones...
water...
Rund rund...
Arund...
Whirl pool...
A Simply beauty...
The rain drops on
On pool water...
Many many
Little...little...
whirl pool
Run and rund to be...
Play the pool...
It was nature wool
With cool...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Broken Wings
Broken wings
Broken wings
Twirls in ballroom gowns
Echos of glory
And reminders of things lost
Broken wings
Broken wings
Only feet to help carry on now
A thousand voices
Singing the same song
Broken wings
Broken wings
Feathers litter the ground
Where the proud used to stand
Where only broken wings remain
poem by Autumn Winds
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Water
Water is innocent as dew.
It sparkles in the sun like new.
Water is naive and childlike as a river.
It runs along and has no bother.
Water is naughty as waves.
It tickles the feet and plays games.
Water is beautiful as rain,
and washes away all your pain
Water appears wise as a sea.
It's huge and unfathomable as can be.
Water is humble as a lake.
It has beauty simple but not fake.
Water is mysterious when deep.
Its full of fear and gives me creeps.
As a fall, it cascades,
as if breaking barriers and liberates.
As a fountain it adorns gardens and palaces,
and symbolises aristocracy, richness and success.
Water is stagnant and muddy as a puddle,
but has a core to be someone special.
poem by Maitreyee Joshi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Hunchback in the Park
The hunchback in the park
A solitary mister
Propped between trees and water
From the opening of the garden lock
That lets the trees and water enter
Until the Sunday sombre bell at dark
Eating bread from a newspaper
Drinking water from the chained cup
That the children filled with gravel
In the fountain basin where I sailed my ship
Slept at night in a dog kennel
But nobody chained him up.
Like the park birds he came early
Like the water he sat down
And Mister they called Hey mister
The truant boys from the town
Running when he had heard them clearly
On out of sound
Past lake and rockery
Laughing when he shook his paper
Hunchbacked in mockery
Through the loud zoo of the willow groves
Dodging the park keeper
With his stick that picked up leaves.
And the old dog sleeper
Alone between nurses and swans
While the boys among willows
Made the tigers jump out of their eyes
To roar on the rockery stones
And the groves were blue with sailors
Made all day until bell time
A woman figure without fault
Straight as a young elm
Straight and tall from his crooked bones
That she might stand in the night
After the locks and chains
All night in the unmade park
After the railings and shrubberies
The birds the grass the trees the lake
And the wild boys innocent as strawberries
Had followed the hunchback
To his kennel in the dark.
poem by Dylan Thomas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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At Katibawasan
It is not true
that all things
are born
in warmth.
A strong stem
of white water
plunges into
a corner of
the emerald pool.
My arms are
outstretched
pale greeen
beneath
the water.
Swallows crush
their wings
against
the water's surface.
And I am in the
grip
of some
nameless ecstasy,
emerging from
water
cold
as ice.
poem by Justine Camacho Tajonera
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Iron Bridge
I am standing on a disused iron bridge
that was erected in 1902,
according to the iron plaque bolted into a beam,
the year my mother turned one.
Imagine--a mother in her infancy,
and she was a Canadian infant at that,
one of the great infants of the province of Ontario.
But here I am leaning on the rusted railing
looking at the water below,
which is flat and reflective this morning,
sky-blue and streaked with high clouds,
and the more I look at the water,
which is like a talking picture,
the more I think of 1902
when workmen in shirts and caps
riveted this iron bridge together
across a thin channel joining two lakes
where wildflowers blow along the shore now
and pairs of swans float in the leafy coves.
1902--my mother was so tiny
she could have fit into one of those oval
baskets for holding apples,
which her mother could have lined with a soft cloth
and placed on the kitchen table
so she could keep an eye on infant Katherine
while she scrubbed potatoes or shelled a bag of peas,
the way I am keeping an eye on that cormorant
who just broke the glassy surface
and is moving away from me and the iron bridge,
swiveling his curious head,
slipping out to where the sun rakes the water
and filters through the trees that crowd the shore.
And now he dives,
disappears below the surface,
and while I wait for him to pop up,
I picture him flying underwater with his strange wings,
as I picture you, my tiny mother,
who disappeared last year,
flying somewhere with your strange wings,
your wide eyes, and your heavy wet dress,
kicking deeper down into a lake
with no end or name, some boundless province of water.
poem by Billy Collins
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pirouetting Autumn
The tree blushed - a rude blast of air
Betrayed a shapely bough.
My saddened heart aware
That Nature's clock was chiming,
I froze upon the twelfth
Clanging tone, caught alone,
Staring at a creaking door -
Left ajar for dancing, coloured Autumn,
Pirouetting in her leaves,
While agitated summer creatures
Backed away resignedly,
Sighing in protracted breves.
I turned; gave company;
We stood together, watching
Summer slowly blow away.
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
A utumn autumn autumn autumn
Autumn autumn autumn autumn
Autumn autumn autumn autumn
Autumn autumn autumn autumn
Autumn autumn autumn autumn
Autumn autumn autumn autumn
Autumn autumn autumn autumn
Autumn autumn autumn autumn
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Autumnal
Pale amber sunlight falls across
The reddening October trees,
That hardly sway before a breeze
As soft as summer: summer's loss
Seems little, dear! on days like these.
Let misty autumn be our part!
The twilight of the year is sweet:
Where shadow and the darkness meet
Our love, a twilight of the heart
Eludes a little time's deceit.
Are we not better and at home
In dreamful Autumn, we who deem
No harvest joy is worth a dream?
A little while and night shall come,
A little while, then, let us dream.
Beyond the pearled horizons lie
Winter and night: awaiting these
We garner this poor hour of ease,
Until love turn from us and die
Beneath the drear November trees.
poem by Ernest Christopher Dowson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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One is the loneliest number
In the distance, by the lake's edge,
beneath the day's twilight, the water
echoes a calm feeling.
The cob and his pen float in rhythm,
unattached from the world,
as their plumes stay dry.
As I watch the vivid creatures waltz
with beauty and grace, my thoughts
recall a room full of lilies,
and the drama of a wedding dress.
In the morning, they rise into the silent air,
my inflamed heart, not able to test
their flight, soars to a distant time and place,
once more, pondering whether
this will be the last migration.
poem by Bill Kamen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Am Ready to Jump
My body trembles;
I am ready to jump,
my entire body moves slowly as I take a few steps back,
I run- my arms feel like lead.
As I reach the edge,
I realize this wasn't so smart.
Now as I fall down, down, down,
through the air, I start to cry.
Salty tears slide up into my hair,
the vast body of water looms ever closer;
should I close my eyes?
Surely when I hit the water
I will die instantly.
Or will I find nothing but frothing water
and agonizing pain?
In an instant, I plunge into the icy water,
I'm not dead, I don't feel any pain.
But something keeps pulling me down,
and so I sink into the icy water.
'I'm not ready to die! ' screams a voice in
the back of my head.
And so I try to swim upward,
moving my arms that feel like lead.
No longer am I in a sea of salt and water,
but of porridge;
thick like mud.
So I stoke harder, faster;
going nowhere.
Exausted with fatigue I look for a shore line,
there is nothing but water.
As far as my eyes can see,
there is nothing but water.
And so I give up,
no more trying.
I fall back into the water;
eyes still open, stinging.
I fade into the depths of the water,
praying silently to my God;
singing my last song,
as I start to drift and nod.
poem by Sam Hughff
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When I See Autumn
I see autumn in dancing leaves.
I see autumn in words of poets.
I listen the breeze of autumn in your heart beat.
Which touches my heart when I hug you softly.
I fly in autumn higher and higher.
With a zig zag flow the more I get lighter.
I taste the fruits gifted by trees.
Celebrating and sharing the blessings of autumn.
If you search me please do it soon.
I may get lost in the bushes of autumn.
I get green and green with orange purple flowers.
When the leaves all around me give me the showers.
I dance with the chanting sparrows.
I forget all of my sorrows.
I get lost, lost and lost in the arms of God.
I become numb and dumb when I see autumn.
This poem I write in response of Seema Choudhary's poem 'Beauty of Autumn' and I give her the credit.
poem by Ramesh Kavdia
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Misty Water Woman
I was driving round, as the sun went down
When I came upon a lake, the sign said misty water
And standing there, with wet and tangled hair was a girl
She said her name was bo, she was a farmers daughter
I said get in, Ill take you home, you must be cold
Misty water woman
You never get to her
Misty water woman
You never get to touch her
And feel her near
It began to storm, and our talk grew warm
Till I stopped the car outside a cold and lonely place
I said were here
But she had disappeared
And on the seat was a pool of tears
And a handkerchief of lace
I did not see her leave
I was amazed
Misty water woman
You never get to her
Misty water woman
You never get to touch her
And feel her warm
I sped into the house,
It took her father and her mother to straighten me out
What was it all about
Please let me know
She looked sad, and he looked mad
And he said, yes youre right, once we had a daughter
Her name was bo, but that was long ago
Years have gone since she drowned at misty water
And the way he took it, took me by surprise
Misty water woman
You never get to her
Misty apparition
You never get to touch her
And feel her near
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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