The Spell Of Spring
Exfoliative sycamore
Limbs splay low above the water
like giraffe's drinking from the shore
at some silty, placid river.
Where once their arthritic branches
at the mercy of winters winds
it's springs meliorative changes
that bring green budding knobby limbs.
Here I sit astride a boulder
overlooking the riverbank
awestruck by springs natural wonders
recurrent offerings enchant
me like a mesmerizer's spell:
enthralled, hypnotized, compelled.
poem by Albert Ahearn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Cherry Bloom Flowers Choir Sing
cherry bloom flowers choir sing on branches
dancing on limbs hung over wind ripple still river
many lanterns blossom upon green carp water
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Teach The Gifted Children
Teach the gifted children
Teach them to have mercy
Teach them about sunsets
Teach them about moonrise
Teach them about anger
The sin that comes with dawning
Teach them about flowers
And the beauty of forgetfulness
Then take me to the river (take me to the river)
And put me in the water (and put me in the water)
Bless them and forgive them (take me to the river)
Father cause they just dont know (take me to the river)
All the gifted children
Teach the gifted children
The way of men and animals
Teach them about cities
The history of the mysteries
Their vice and their virtues
About branches that blow in the wind
On the wages of their sins
Teach them of forgiveness
Teach them about mercy
Teach them about music
And the cool and cleansing waters
What do they say, take me to the river (take me to the river)
Take me to the river (take me to the river)
Put me in the water (take me to the river)
And teach the gifted children (take me to the river)
All the gifted children (take me to the river)
(take me to the river)
(take me to the river)
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Nile Springs
There are naked souls
being clothed in purity
There are limbs, young in age
being watered with nutrients of growth
There's flesh, dark in color
swallowing the rays of the mighty sun
Down the Nile springs
African steam rises to heights
from the depth of the red earth
to fill the clear sky of opportunity.
Blessings are whirling
like the winds of our history
poem by Timothy muggaga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Will Take You To Crabhouse
two parallel roads
sandwich by pines
long can't see end
golf balls astray
lying on needles
same in deep pond
house by riverbank
candle lit windows
veranda, both sides
love overlooking green
at water edge of pain
swirling; lofting wind
poem by Manonton Dalan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Moving Chicago's Seasoned Memories
For old Saint Patty's Day is approaching
from just around the corner, with the
inevitable commencing of springs true
greenness from the wonders of Mother Nature
There's also an absolute certainly of an
observance within the moonlight for
Chicago's river scent; with its
highlighted illuminating mellow wames,
as colorful as spring's memorial green
itself, to be seen all along the downtown
Lake Michigan's opening body and the
Chicago river's mouth, and with the
occurrence of sheer exhilaration
poem by Derek Johnson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Psalm 36
v.5-9
L. M.
The perfections and providence of God.
High in the heav'ns, eternal God,
Thy goodness in full glory shines
Thy truth shall break through every cloud
That veils and darkens thy designs.
For ever firm thy justice stands,
As mountains their foundations keep;
Wise are the wonders of thy hands;
Thy judgments are a mighty deep.
Thy providence is kind and large,
Both man and beast thy bounty share;
The whole creation is thy charge,
But saints are thy peculiar care.
My God! how excellent thy grace,
Whence all our hope and comfort springs!
The sons of Adam in distress
Fly to the shadow of thy wings.
From the provisions of thy house
We shall be fed with sweet repast;
There mercy like a river flows,
And brings salvation to our taste.
Life, like a fountain rich and free,
Springs from the presence of the Lord;
And in thy light our souls shall see
The glories promised in thy word.
poem by Isaac Watts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Wilderness
I came too late to the hills: they were swept bare
Winters before I was born of song and story,
Of spell or speech with power of oracle or invocation,
The great ash long dead by a roofless house, its branches rotten,
The voice of the crows an inarticulate cry,
And from the wells and springs the holy water ebbed away.
A child I ran in the wind on a withered moor
Crying out after those great presences who were not there,
Long lost in the forgetfulness of the forgotten.
Only the archaic forms themselves could tell!
In sacred speech of hoodie on gray stone, or hawk in air,
Of Eden where the lonely rowan bends over the dark pool.
Yet I have glimpsed the bright mountain behind the mountain,
Knowledge under the leaves, tasted the bitter berries red,
Drunk water cold and clear from an inexhaustible hidden fountain.
poem by Kathleen Jessie Raine
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Immigrant Song
Ah, ah,
We come from the land of the ice and snow,
>from the midnight sun where the hot springs blow.
The hammer of the gods
Will drive our ships to new lands,
To fight the horde, singing and crying:
Valhalla, i am coming!
On we sweep with threshing oar,
Our only goal will be the western shore.
Ah, ah,
We come from the land of the ice and snow,
>from the midnight sun where the hot springs blow.
How soft your fields so green,
Can whisper tales of gore,
Of how we calmed the tides of war.
We are your overlords.
On we sweep with threshing oar,
Our only goal will be the western shore.
So now you'd better stop and rebuild all your ruins,
For peace and trust can win the day
Despite of all your losing.
song performed by by Infectious Grooves
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
My Sycamore Tree
A rainbow appeared across the sky
Like a promise
A covenant
Shinning on high
I waited and watched Making sure I could see
Climbing the branches of my sycamore tree
A star shone bright
Symbolizing
Signifying
The importance that night
Men followed it
As I watched happily
Sitting atop my sycamore tree
A white dove descended from the clouds
With a voice
And a light
Amazing the crowds
Water and word
I watched and thought of what it could be
From the tallest branch of my sycamore tree
From a tree like mine a cross was formed
Spitting
Beating
Some laughed while others mourned
I knew there was something I could do
But I was afraid of what would happen to me
So I stayed put, hanging on tight to my sycamore tree
Three days later a butterfly appeared
Alive
And vibrant
Then to my tree it finally neared
It seemed as though it was speaking to me
Speaking of life eternally
So I followed the butterfly as far as I could see
Then I quickly climbed down the branches
Joyully leaving my sycamore tree
poem by Emily Caudill
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Immigrant Song
Ah,ah ah,ah
We come from the land of the ice and snow
From the midnight sun where the hot springs blow.
The hammer of the gods will drive our ships to new lands,
To fight the horde, singing and crying:
Valhalla, I am coming.
On we sweep with treshing oars,
Our only goal will be the western shore.
Ah,ah ah,ah
We come from the land of the ice and snow
From the midnight sun where the hot springs blow.
How soft your fields so green,
We calmed the tides of war,
Can whisper tales of gore:
We are your overlords.
On we sweep with treshing oars,
Our only goal will be the western shore.
song performed by by Cyndi Lauper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Immigrant Song
Ah, ah,
We come from the land of the ice and snow,
>from the midnight sun where the hot springs blow.
The hammer of the gods
Will drive our ships to new lands,
To fight the horde, singing and crying:
Valhalla, I am coming!
On we sweep with threshing oar,
Our only goal will be the western shore.
Ah, ah,
We come from the land of the ice and snow,
>from the midnight sun where the hot springs blow.
How soft your fields so green,
Can whisper tales of gore,
Of how we calmed the tides of war.
We are your overlords.
On we sweep with threshing oar,
Our only goal will be the western shore.
So now youd better stop and rebuild all your ruins,
For peace and trust can win the day
Despite of all your losing.
song performed by by Led Zeppelin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Immigrant Song
Ah, ah,
We come from the land of the ice and snow,
>from the midnight sun where the hot springs blow.
The hammer of the gods
Will drive our ships to new lands,
To fight the horde, singing and crying:
Valhalla, I am coming!
On we sweep with threshing oar,
Our only goal will be the western shore.
Ah, ah,
We come from the land of the ice and snow,
>from the midnight sun where the hot springs blow.
How soft your fields so green,
Can whisper tales of gore,
Of how we calmed the tides of war.
We are your overlords.
On we sweep with threshing oar,
Our only goal will be the western shore.
So now youd better stop and rebuild all your ruins,
For peace and trust can win the day
Despite of all your losing.
song performed by by Led Zeppelin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Spa (Hot Springs)
In the spa city of Hot Springs
Old maids sit in trolley cars
Up and down the busy streets
Young men strum on blue guitars
In the spa city of Hot Springs
Pilgrims gather at the sump
To fill their homely samovars
With rusty liquid from a pump
In the spa city of Hot Springs
Sidewalk touts hawk lemonade
In the park policemen wink
At winos on the promenade
In the spa city of Hot Springs
Artist hacks in residence
Paint the sun on velvet, black
For kings and former presidents
In the spa city of Hot Springs
Chinese men play dominos
In rooms where on another day
A tart pulls on her pantyhose
In the spa city of Hot Springs
Healing waters tip the pail
As ponies gather at the gate
To chase each other’s pony tail.
poem by Alan Hickman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Immigrant Song
We come from the land of the ice and snow,
From the midnight sun where the hot springs blow.
The hammer of the gods,
Will drive our ships to new lands,
To fight the horde singing and crying:
valhalla I am coming!
On we sweep,
With thrashing oar.
Our only goal will be the western shore.
We come from the land of the ice and snow,
From the midnight sun where the hot springs blow.
Sultry fields of green,
Whispered tales of lore,
Of how we calmed the tides of war,
We are your overlords.
On we sweep,
With thrashing oar.
Our only goal will be the western shore.
So now youd better stop and rebuild all your ruins,
For peace and trust can win the day despite all your losing.
Originally by led zeppelin
song performed by by Nirvana
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Hope Springs Eternal
Hope springs eternal
Like a streak of light
That pierces through the darkness
Of despair…
Hope springs eternal
Like a flower
Growing through a crack
In the concrete…
Hope springs eternal
Like an ember of glowing coal
Glowing through the deadness
Of the ashes…
Hope springs eternal
Like a small, encouraging whisper
Cutting through the silence
That follows failure…
Born On A Natural Wing
Love born on a natural wing,
young hearts that sing
springs song of joy
effects the heart of the sly and coy.
Breeze cool, crisp and clean,
ruffles leaves on trees where lovers lean.
Lanes of a million feet before,
fill again with lover’s lore.
Sleepy hollows feel springs touch;
awaken beauty from the sleepy hush.
The sun spreads warmth from the sky,
looking down with its yellow eye.
Birds fly south on the wing,
now winter has kissed everything.
My, my how times does fly,
hear the wedding bells of June and July.
Again, we wake to an autumn morn;
winds are harsh and full of scorn.
Snow again will adorn our eyes.
A blanket of white before us lies,
Oh we ode for again the spring,
and love born on a natural wing.
1976
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Ask The Mountains
Dont come after
Dont come after
Dont come after
Come
Come
Come
Come
Dont come after
Dont come after
Please dont follow me along
When you read this Ill be gone
Ask the mountains
Springs and fountains
Why couldnt this go on?
Couldnt our happiness go on?
Ask the sun that lightens up the sky
When the night gives in, to tell you why
Ask the mountains
Wild woods, highlands
Ask the green in the woods and the trees
The cold breeze coming in from the sea
Springs and fountains
Ask the mountains
Springs and fountains
Ask the mountains
Springs and fountains
Ask the mountains
Springs and fountains
Ask the mountains
Ask the sun that lightens up the sky
When the night gives in, to tell you why
Tell the mountains
Springs and fountains
Why couldnt this go on?
Couldnt our happiness go on?
Why couldnt this go on?
Couldnt our happiness go on?
song performed by by Vangelis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Water Anew
From mountain high to valley low, the warmth of springs thaw runoff comes clear cold water from the melting snow.
Spring rain, cool and clear, mist and fog, early morning's dew, creeks, rivers, lakes renew.
Though mud stained from the thaw, the water soon will clear, life sustaining, life anew.
With summer weather comes light or heavy rains, sprinkle, mist or fog, life sustaining, life anew.
With autumn arrives the cold, then frost, soon after winter follows, sleet and snow, water turns to ice.
Though covered with ice and winters snow, the water in creeks, rivers and lakes renew until springs thaw, the water still flows.
Whether spring, summer, autumn or winter, water, life sustaining, life anew.
poem by Alvin Schaut
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Edge of the Water
On the edge of the water
Worrying more than ought to
river reflects back up at me
the water is cool and calm
a peaceful stream
enters my mind
takes over the steering for me
the river floats around a bend
I'm on the mend
with a tree overlooking the river's curve
two birds make a squawk
skim the river's surface together
river boat bells play to set the mood
poem by Ludvig Von Himmelstein
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Eutaw Springs
At Eutaw Springs the valiant died;
Their limbs with dust are covered o'er;
Weep on, ye springs, your tearful tide;
How many heroes are no more!
If in this wreck of ruin, they
Can yet be thought to claim a tear,
O smite thy gentle breast, and say
The friends of freedom slumber here!
Thou, who shalt trace this bloody plain,
If goodness rules thy generous breast,
Sigh for the wasted rural reign;
Sigh for the shepherds sunk to rest!
Stranger, their humble groves adorn;
You too may fall, and ask a tear:
'Tis not the beauty of the morn
That proves the evening shall be clear.
They saw their injured country's woe,
The flaming town, the wasted field;
Then rushed to meet the insulting foe;
They took the spear--but left the shield.
Led by thy conquering standards, Greene,
The Britons they compelled to fly:
None distant viewed the fatal plain,
None grieved in such a cause to die--
But, like the Parthian, famed of old,
Who, flying, still their arrows threw,
These routed Britons, full as bold,
Retreated, and retreating slew.
Now rest in peace, our patriot band;
Though far from nature's limits thrown,
We trust they find a happier land,
A bright Phoebus of their own.
poem by Philip Freneau
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!