By Blackfriars Bridge
It is such a lovely day and the sun is shining.
Outside the nearby pub, there are people dining.
A street performer dances with a crystal ball.
Directly opposite me, is the dome of St Paul's.
Along the pebbled shore, a few stragglers stroll.
Somewhere in the distance, a church bell tolls.
At the river, people contentedly stand and stare.
The soft, summer breeze gently ruffles my hair.
The Millennium Bridge shines silver in the sun.
I pass by some joggers, who are out for their run.
People take pictures with their mobile phones.
Along the river, a pair of ducks happily roam.
Of people walking along, there is a constant flow.
Planes high up in the sky head towards Heathrow.
A flock of seagulls swoop around above my head,
As they search for food along the Thames riverbed.
The sun is reflected upon the river, as a silvery path.
Along the riverbank, crowds of people chat and laugh.
Tourists mill around outside Shakespeare's Globe.
An Afro-Caribbean wears a brightly coloured robe.
From the nearby pier, pleasure boats come and go.
By the river's edge, there is a man playing a piano.
With the warm sun upon me, I could stay all day,
And it takes some effort to finally pull myself away.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Related quotes
Comeback
A path has gone towards a river
Wayfarers move along with this
People come from the other side of the river
Most of them are unknown strange
The known people go across
Do they return their own vicinity
The river comeback in high tide
Only those who pass in quest of river
Never comeback
poem by Tapas Baidya
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Moon Shining Over The London Bridge
The sky is dark now
And the night is here again
But there is a moon shining over the London Bridge right over the sky
And I keep watching that moon while I rest for a while at the Thames River
But I can't take my eyes of the moon that is shining over the London Bridge right over the sky because it is beautiful to see
And at the same time it is getting late now but I don't mind at all because I Rather stay all night at The Thames river watching the moon shining over The London Bridge right over the sky
Yes the Big Ben chined midnight now and London is going to sleep
But I am falling asleep now at The Thames river below the naked three That is there at the Thanes River
Also all the buildings near The Thames river have their lights out
And I am sleeping in totall darkness and at the same time enjoying the Peace and quiet of the Thames river during the night
But near the Thames River is always cold and I don't mind at all Because I am dressed for this kind of weather
But this night at the Thames River I will always remember because it Will be the best sleep I ever had in years
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Watching The River Flow
Whats the matter with me,
I dont have much to say,
Daylight sneakin through the window
And Im still in this all-night cafe.
Walkin to and fro beneath the moon
Out to where the trucks are rollin slow,
To sit down on this bank of sand
And watch the river flow.
Wish I was back in the city
Instead of this old bank of sand,
With the sun beating down over the chimney tops
And the one I love so close at hand.
If I had wings and I could fly,
I know where I would go.
But right now Ill just sit here so contentedly
And watch the river flow.
People disagreeing on all just about everything, yeah,
Makes you stop and all wonder why.
Why only yesterday I saw somebody on the street
Who just couldnt help but cry.
Oh, this ol river keeps on rollin, though,
No matter what gets in the way and which way the wind does blow,
And as long as it does Ill just sit here
And watch the river flow.
People disagreeing everywhere you look,
Makes you wanna stop and read a book.
Why only yesterday I saw somebody on the street
That was really shook.
But this ol river keeps on rollin, though,
No matter what gets in the way and which way the wind does blow,
And as long as it does Ill just sit here
And watch the river flow.
Watch the river flow,
Watchin the river flow,
Watchin the river flow,
But Ill sit down on this bank of sand
And watch the river flow.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Summer Snapshot
High up in the sky, the sun is shining.
Outside restaurants, people are dining.
Over the sea, sailboats are dashing.
Against the shore, waves are crashing.
Up in the sky, seagulls are screeching.
Up to the sun, flowers are reaching.
In the park, children are playing.
In the breeze, branches are swaying.
From car windows, music is blaring.
More of their bodies, people are bearing.
Down at the beach, people are bathing:
A nice, healthy tan, they are all craving.
Through the sky, birds are flying.
On the clothesline, washing is drying.
Along the roads, cars are queuing.
In bed, at night, people are stewing.
To peoples' bodies, clothes are sticking.
Frozen ice lollies, children are licking.
Their garden borders, people are weeding.
Ducks, on the river, children are feeding.
Strawberries and cream, people are eating.
Friends, for a drink, people are meeting.
In their back gardens, people are sitting.
Through the air, butterflies are flitting.
Over at Wimbledon, there is tennis.
Of themselves, wasps make a menace.
Ice cold drinks, people are sipping,
In the playground, girls are skipping.
People eat chips with fish in crisp batter.
Over at Henley, there is a Royal Regatta.
Of our summer, when the weather is hot,
The above, make up merely a snapshot.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Thames! Beautiful Thames!
Thames! Beautiful Thames!
Thames River arises at Gloucestershire,
flows thro' London, the capital of U.K;
Thames River is tidal in London
With a rise and fall of 7 meters,
The river is fed by more than 20 tributaries;
The Thames River which flows alongside
several other towns and cities -
Oxford, Reading, Henley-on-Thames,
Windsor, Kingston upon Thames and Richmond -
is beautiful;
Thames River has a total length of 215 mile,
River banks on either side are beautiful,
Pavement strolling stretch on either side
is beautiful;
Boats sailing in Thames river are beautiful,
Young women who sail in the boats are beautiful,
White swan pairs' which swim in the river are beautiful;
Watching swans from the bridge,
- which spans Reading and Caversham -
somersaulting to catch the fish
is still more exciting and beautiful!
Thames! Beautiful Thames!
poem by V.K. Kanniappan
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The Crystal River
Slowly, slowly, slowly the crystal river flow,
Moving down the slope of rocks below.
The water were warm since harmattan's due
And frogs croak as they usually do.
But the river has something we never knew:
Deep down, it can make sick ones anew.
Because, there resides the sea-kind and his queen;
To enlarge their empire they were keen
And once they mated and had a son,
But the son offended the sun.
Heaven became angry, including the moon
The river started drying up too soon.
So our crystal river ceased to flow
And relocated to somewhere we'll never know.
And up and down the people go
Searching where the crystal river used to flow
Down the slope of rocks below,
Where now littl little grasses do grow.
poem by Chime Justice Ndubuisi
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London By Night
As we walk along the City’s busy roads,
Ornate buildings, here and there, are a-glow.
They are bathed in a golden or silvery light;
Illuminated against the dark, star-lit night.
Across the Thames, we gaze at the skyline:
There are buildings, old and new; all designs.
Some of the buildings, we see, are really very old;
Nestling with the ‘Gherkin’ tower: new and bold.
Standing proudly, at the very centre of it all,
Is the magnificent dome of good old St Paul’s.
It is a skyline, at which, I always love to peer;
It is constantly changing, each and every year.
Tonight, dozens of dedicated joggers are out in force;
The Thames Embankment, seems the favourite course.
We see a traditional Christmas market and fun fair;
Traders in brightly decorated cabins, sell their wares.
Gifts, being sold, range from traditional to unusual:
All neatly displayed for the eager customer’s perusal.
We see people tucking into chips, and curried bratwurst;
Plus, there’s spiced mulled wine, to quench their thirst.
Fairy lights twinkle away, white and blue,
On the trees, creating such a beautiful view.
As we walk along, I hear the river swirling below;
Lights reflected in the water, make a dazzling show.
At seven o’clock, the bell of Big Ben, loudly tolls.
The air feels decidedly chilly, as the day grows old.
We wander along the river, until it gets quite late,
Then it’s time for us to leave: a time which, I hate.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Ode To The Peshtigo
It starts as just a trickle, a spring which comes up from the ground, fed by many tributaries, to become one of the biggest rivers around.
Always there, constant flow.
Before it had its name, Native Americans used it as a highway, for even today people still travel it the same way.
This river has seen many a traveler, explorers, settlers, trappers, loggers, fishermen, hunters and boaters.
Spring, summer, fall and in winter, even though covered with a blanket of ice and snow, the river steadfast in its flow.
Stretches of water, blissful and serene.
Its rapids, waterfalls, noisy when one is near, yet tranquil to the ear.
This river is home to many animals, fish and birds.
For whoever visits this river, many places seem yet undisturbed, but one thing is certain, the river will always be there, constant flow, the mighty Peshtigo.
poem by Alvin Schaut
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Blue For You
I was born by the river
So I know where the river runs dry
I couldnt last forever
Accused just for living
But I know that the living was right
I couldnt last forever
Look at me making movies
Making living like Ive never lived before
And the people wanting out of the river
Like a poor boy really should
Now I can sit and stand it
Like other people do
What you do for me Ill do for you, yeah
Now I can sit and stand it
Like other people do
What is blue for me, is blue for you
Theres a man who I know
You know hes got a fist full of dirty dollars
And I know they wont last forever
Does he really know what people are saying
Always feeling sure what he is there saying
But the others disappear he was alone
Now I can sit and stand it
Like other people do
What you do for me Ill do for you
Now I can sit and stand it
Like other people do
What is blue for me, is blue for you
I go back to the river
Cause I know where the river runs dry
I couldnt last forever
Take the night making movies
Like a villain never ever seen the night of day
Dont you know that I cant last forever
Now I can sit and stand it
Like other people do
What you do for me Ill do for you
Now I can sit and stand it
Like other people do
What is blue for me, is blue for you
Now I can sit and stand it
Like other people do
What is blue for me, is kind of blue for you, yeah
Hello Im going down
You know I dont want to wear no pretty crown
Help people Im going down
song performed by by Wet Wet Wet
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Free River
Free River flow, Free River
so cold, Free River
you’re getting old.
Free River don’t cry, Free River
you’ve run dry.
I still see you through my youth’s eyes.
Free River you told no lies, Free River
your path has been made, Free River
all things change.
Free River you made it to the sea.
The friends I swam with once
are now gone, left only me.
Free River you’re worth more than gold, Free River
I've grown old.
I’ve lived by you my whole life and
I’ve left my seed through my wife, Free River
I lie at your shore; now dry,
Free River it’s my time to die.
poem by Patrick Dumas
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Riverside
Seen her get up, seen her go down
Down to the riverside
Seen her jump into the river and drown
Down to the riverside
People do just what they will
Dont matter to the river, its running still
Sun come up, sun go down
Down to the riverside
Sun jump into the river and drown
Down to the riverside
Every day just like the last
We sit and watch the water pass
Came a day the built a bridge
Down to the riverside
Over the way, on top of the ridge
Down to the riverside
Built a bridge for people to cross
But every other day, someone jumping off
You might think some boys they got it made
Down to the riverside
They got the money and the women and a place in the shade
Down to the riverside
That aint no way to ease the pain
Cant listen to the river when it calls your name
song performed by by Kenny Wayne Shepherd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This Devil's Workday
All those people that you know.
All those people that you know.
All those people that you know,
floatin' in the river are logs.
I could buy myself a reason.
I could sell myself a job.
I could hang myself on treason.
All the folks I know are gone.
All the people that you know.
All the people that you know.
All the people that you know
floatin' in the river are logs.
So I ate the wedding cake
'til the whole damn thing was gone.
And I'm gonna drown the ocean.
Now ain't none o' that so wrong?
All the people that you know.
All those people that you know.
All those people that you know
floatin' in the river are gone.
Gonna take this sack of puppies.
Gonna set it out to freeze.
Gonna climb around on all fours
'til all the blood falls out my knees.
All the people that you know.
All the people that you know.
All those people that you know
floatin' in the river are logs.
Well let's take this potted plant
to the woods and set it free.
I'm gonna tell the owners
just how nice that was of me.
I could buy myself a reason.
I could sell myself a job.
I could hang myself on treason.
Oh I am my own damn god.
HA, HA, HA, HA, HA, HA, HA
song performed by by Modest Mouse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Daytime Nightime Suffering
What does she get for all the love she gave you
There on the ladder of regrets?
Mighty river, give her all she gets.
What does she get for all the love she gave you
There on the ladder of regrets?
Daytime nightime suffering is all she gets.
Where all the prizes for the games she entered
With little chance of much success?
Daytime nightime suffering is all she gets.
Come on, river, all the flow
Let your love of you people show.
Come on, river, flow through me,
Let your love of you people be.
You are the river, I am the stream.
Flow mighty river through me.
What does it pay to play the leading lady
When the like the damsel in distress
Daytime nightime suffering is all she gets?
No less (no less), no more (no more)
No sea (no sea), no shore (no shore)
No sand (no sand), no pail (no pail)
No fairy tale anymore.
Come on, river, flow through me
Dont be stopped by insanity.
Come on, river, overflow,
Let your love for your neighbours show.
You are the river, I am the stream.
Flget it.
But if we forget it every now and then.
But if you dont feel it, later on youll regret it.
And if we let it we could set it free, you and me.
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Park Life
Situated in a city, where life is all race, race, race,
Hyde Park is a sea of calm, with a much slower pace.
Acres of parkland are shrouded in bright sunlight,
And it has to be said, it really is a wonderful sight.
A skater skilfully negotiates a long line of cones.
People sit texting and chatting on mobile phones.
A couple cool off in the waters of the Serpentine:
Oblivious to bystanders, their two bodies entwine.
Watching a grey squirrel, some folk stand and stare,
But for these cute creatures, some do not much care.
Upon the bandstand, students rehearse Shakespeare,
Adding a touch of culture to this lovely atmosphere.
At the ticket office, for the boats, there is a long queue:
The rowing boats and pedalos, folk are all dying to use.
A large flock of seagulls, so very skilful in their flight,
Are eager for food, and, over it, they very viciously fight.
Packs of pigeons peck around occupied wooden seats,
Hoping they will be thrown the odd tasty titbit to eat.
On the lake, six baby cygnets are bobbing about:
Nearby, their proud mother keeps a wary lookout.
People sit beneath the tall trees, glad of the shade,
Tucking into sandwiches, which they have made.
At the water's edge, people sit soaking their feet;
Drawn by the water's cooling effect in this heat.
Some folk like to sit alone under the tall trees to read;
They sit upon a soft carpet of grass, blossom and seed.
Hyde Park is a haven, where you can leave the city behind;
In this space, comfort for your soul you, very soon, will find.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Beautiful River
And he showed me a pure River of Water of Life, clear as crystal, proceeding out of the Throne of God and of the Lamb." -- Rev. xxii. 1
Shall we gather at the river
Where bright angel feet have trod;
With its crystal tide forever
Flowing by the throne of God?
CHORUS.
Yes, we'll gather at the river,
The beautiful, the beautiful river --
Gather with the saints at the river
That flows by the throne of God.
On the margin of the river,
Washing up its silver spray,
We will walk and worship ever,
All the happy, golden day.
Yes, we'll gather at the river,
The beautiful, the beautiful river --
Gather with the saints at the river
That flows by the throne of God.
On the bosom of the river,
Where the Saviour-king we own,
We shall meet, and sorrow never
'Neath the glory of the throne. Cho.
Yes, we'll gather at the river,
The beautiful, the beautiful river --
Gather with the saints at the river
That flows by the throne of God.
Ere we reach the shining river,
Lay we every burden down;
Grace our spirits will deliver,
And provide a robe and crown. Cho.
Yes, we'll gather at the river,
The beautiful, the beautiful river --
Gather with the saints at the river
That flows by the throne of God.
At the smiling of the river,
Rippling with the Saviour's face,
Saints, whom death will never sever,
Lift their songs of saving grace. Cho.
Yes, we'll gather at the river,
The beautiful, the beautiful river --
Gather with the saints at the river
That flows by the throne of God.
Soon we'll reach the shining river,
Soon our pilgrimage will cease,
Soon our happy hearts will quiver
With the melody of peace. Cho.
Yes, we'll gather at the river,
The beautiful, the beautiful river --
Gather with the saints at the river
That flows by the throne of God.
poem by Robert Wadsworth Lowry
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The Silent River
The river usually runs in such a great rush,
But, today, it is still, and there is only hush.
I glance over at it, in the darkness, as I pass:
I see the river’s surface is as smooth as glass.
It’s like the river itself is feeling the great grief,
Of losing someone, whose time on earth was brief.
It appears to be grieving for its long time neighbour,
Who, for many years, in the nearby store, did labour.
Just like people, it stands in silence, to show its respect,
And its many thoughts and feelings, it wants to collect.
No more will the river, running through this restful place,
See its neighbour with her eternally happy and smiling face.
From the river, to be heard, there isn’t a single sound:
Night time has fallen, so no ducks or swans are around.
Never before, can I recall the river being so totally still;
It’s as though it has decided to stop of its own free will.
From what I can see, and this may sound just a little bit mad,
The river, just like its neighbour’s family and friends, is sad.
It isn’t in the mood to chatter cheerfully, to dance, or to run;
Now is its time of remembrance: not a time for it to have fun.
Soon, it will continue on its journey, but it will remember,
The loss of this lovely lady, on the tenth day of December.
As it journeys onwards, its surface will shimmer and shake,
And, with it, precious memories of its neighbour, it will take.
(In memory of Debbie Baptiste)
poem by Angela Wybrow
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I Looked in a River
I looked in a river from a bridge I was on
The river and bridge both small yet so strong
The water so clear you could see river bed
Yet what I saw cast around made me feel sad
A concrete pylon about two meters long
An old sack and Iron Gate and a cycle half gone
Then a blue plastic bag and a tyre yet no wheel
A place in seems for discarded items people steal
It’s a shame a disgrace as this debris is strewn
As around it all river plants and reeds fight for room
Yet again it’s a puzzle as the waters so clear
That’s despite this mess on the riverbed here
Copyright © 2008 Ray Feasey
poem by Ray Feasey
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It's a river
When the time keeps passing and the world goes round
and the sea is crashing at the cliffs and the sounds
erupting as the seabirds cry, you can watch the river
as the time goes by
And it's like it's holy and it can be hell
and you feel so lonely and you fear the smell
of the guns that fire then you see the light
of a rainbow dawning and you realise
that the river's flowing as the time goes by
And you met the people and you knew them well
and you said you loved them and you rang the bell
in the tree of life you watched them grow
and the world is turning as the river flows
The earth smells good and the sky turns gold
when the birds are singing and you bless the old
you can kiss your woman and it feels so right
as you touch the river as the time goes by
As you stand barefoot upon the morning shore
and you feel the centuries of death and war
and the wind is biting and it tears your skin
and the river's flowing where its always been
And the river washes and the river's clean
and the soul remembers where the river's been
as you watch it tumble and you watch it flow
your life's a river now you know, now you know
your life's a river now you know.
poem by Charles M. Moore
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Cross River My River
We are a people from the river
So you do not withhold seafood
From greasing our hungry plates
And giving us savoury taste
As our fathers deploy nets and bamboos
To court fish for the fire at home
Our people paddle their boat
To the centre of your being, and made boast
About the day’s catch, snatched from you
But you do not rage and swallow them up
For the way they gloat
Oh! Sweet Pretty River
You flow to nourish our land like Eden
And supplyfruits and vegetables at no price
To you we owe our home called Paradise
A place flowing with milk and honey
For which we did not pay a penny
Cross River, my pretty river
Mother of all goodness and blessedness I hail
No name would have been better
Than the one you gave a people
Cross River, my pretty river I hail
poem by Serena Eyo
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On Westminster Bridge.
Fay looked down
at the River Thames
from Westminster Bridge
and you stood next to her
watching the boats
go under the bridge
and disappear from view
and she said
my dad said he'd take me
on one of those boats
and out to sea
but he never has
you looked sideways at her
taking in her blonde hair
and her blue eyes
and the way the wind
touched her hair
and made her dress
move about her legs
I've been on boats
on the river before
you said
making conversation
not seeking to impress
or boast
I like the chugging sound
of the boat
you added
Fay touched
the edge of the bridge
where she stood
and said
this bridge was built in 1862
I heard about it in class
Miss Ash told us about it
oh yes she
with her massive shoulders
and arms and big breasts
you said
and Fay laughed
and blushed slightly
God knows what my dad'd say
if he heard you say that
and me laughing
she said
looking at you
and shyly smiling
probably give me
what's for
she uttered quieter
ceasing to smile
her eyes taking on
a dark gaze
looking out
at the river again
you've got to have a laugh
now and then
haven't you
you said
wanting to put
an arm about her
but not doing so
just putting a hand
next to hers
on the bridge top
feeling the cold stone
wanting to feel her flesh
soft and warm
suppose so
she said softly
her fingers close to yours
almost touching
you moved your hand
closer across the stone
crablike and touched
her small finger with yours
she breathed in the air
and so did you
and she said
oh to be in London
and out of doors.
poem by Terry Collett
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