Related quotes: It is often a taker,...

Dredging The River

It is often a taker, but now it's a giver:
Workmen are busy dredging the river.
On the bed of the Thames, many things lurk;
Recovering them all is long, mucky work.

Crisp packets, cans, and shopping trolleys;
Takeaway cartons, and sticks from lollies.
Spectacles, scarves, gloves, and hats;
Deflated old footballs, and cricket bats.

Cardboard cups, and broken skateboards;
Roman coins, and Iron Age swords.
An amazing menagerie of mobile phones,
And jewellery set with precious stones.

Tennis balls, toys and bicycle tyres;
Cameras, iPods, and electrical wire.
Hub caps, rope, and laptop computers;
Pieces of pottery and jugs made of pewter.

These are among the artefacts found
Under the Thames in old London Town.
Some are mundane - just run of the mill;
While others promise to provide a big thrill.

poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Related quotes

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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Watching Swans From Caversham Bridge

Thames! Beautiful Thames! !
Thames flows through London
Thames is tidal With a rise and fall
of 7 meters in London;

Thames flows through 'Reading'
And its banks are beautiful,
Pavement strolling stretch on either side
is beautiful;

Boats sailing in Thames
Young women who sail in the boats
White swan pairs' which swim in the river
are beautiful;

Watching from Caversham bridge,
somersaulting swans catching the fish
is still more exciting!
Thames! Beautiful Thames! !

poem by V.K. Kanniappan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Left Behind

Sometimes when people are leaving a train,
Behind them, personal belongings still remain.
It is totally amazing what items are found
Each day, on London's busy Underground.

The shelves at Lost Property are very neatly lined,
With an array of items, that people have left behind.
Here are just some of the things, they have retrieved;
Some items really have to be seen, to be believed!

School bags, containing a flask and lunch box,
A stuffed Japanese puffer fish, and a stuffed fox.
Purses, leather wallets, and bunches of keys,
Hats, scarves, gloves, and numerous brollies.

Walking sticks, crutches, and the odd wheelchair,
An array of children's toys, including teddy bears,
Briefcases and folders, containing important notes,
A selection of clothing, including jumpers and coats.

iPads, iPhones, memory sticks, and laptops,
A collection of shoes, socks, and flip-flops.
A whole library of books: fiction and fact,
Suitcases and holdalls, still neatly packed.

Works of art, by artists, both modern and old,
Many items of jewellery, both silver and gold.
Prosthetic arms and legs, and sets of false teeth,
Bags of groceries, including joints of fresh beef.

Cameras, video-cams, and pairs of sunglasses.
Baby buggies, skateboards, train and bus passes.
Hundred of items are left behind every single day;
To Lost Property, these items soon make their way.

Some items, with their owners, are soon reunited;
Owners are very clearly relieved and delighted.
Some items wait for many weeks for collection;
For them, nobody seems to show any affection.

poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

In Valleys of Springs and Rivers

"Clunton and Clunbury,
Clungunford and Clun,
Are the quietest places
Under the sun."

In valleys of springs and rivers,
By Ony and Teme and Clun,
The country for easy livers,
The quietest under the sun,

We still had sorrows to lighten,
One could not be always glad,
And lads knew trouble at Knighton
When I was a Knighton lad.

By bridges that Thames runs under,
In London, the town built ill,
'Tis sure small matter for wonder
If sorrow is with one still.

And if as a lad grows older
The troubles he bears are more,
He carries his griefs on a shoulder
That handselled them long before.

Where shall one halt to deliver
This luggage I'd lief set down?
Not Thames, not Teme is the river,
Nor London nor Knighton the town:

'Tis a long way further than Knighton,
A quieter place than Clun,
Where doomsday may thunder and lighten
And little 'twill matter to one.

poem by Alfred Edward Housman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

A walk in the countryside

What a lovely day for a walk
a nice ramble in the countryside
take in all the lovely scenery
the flowers, the fields, the birds.
What's that over there in the distance?
something Red in colour by that hedge.
I hope it's a Fox they are beautiful,
it hasn't moved so I may get up close.
What a let down it's a traffic cone!
Hope I see something more interesting
than a stupid traffic cone on my walk.
What's that rustling noise?
Could be a Pheasant or a Partridge,
on closer inspection I see the noise
is not from a bird but a bloody crisp packet!
As I walk on I tread in Cow dung, fag packets,
used condoms, and endless empty beer cans.
I've been walking for over an hour now
and along with the cans and the crisp packets
I've seen two Tesco trolleys, a Microwave Oven,
and a motorbike lying in a small stream.
The British countryside in all it's beauty,
with the wind in your hair and dog mess
stuck to the bottom of your boots!

poem by Kevin Halls
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

English Names on Canadian Thames

England hath given us the names
To adorn Canadian Thames,
And charms to them she hath lent,
In Oxford, Middlesex and Kent.
She Essex kisseth in her mouth,
And Scottish names, one north, one south ;
And London now she justly claims
She's capital of vale of Thames,
And her strong castellated tower .
Doth on the river frowning lower ;
And Chatham is the river's port,
There slaves for freedom did resort,
And they did industrious toil
And now many own the soil.
Stratford, now, shall be our theme,
On Avon, tributary stream,
And its clear waters it doth launch
Into the Thames, northern branch.
Near that substantial stone town,
St. Mary's, with mills of renown.

Some imagine the Thames is too insignificant a stream
to be sung in verse.' Distance lends enchantment to
the view. and they fancy the old Scottish rivers are
more worthy of song ; but many of them are polluted of
late years with vile odors from factories ; and, as the
county of Oxford is agreeably diversified with hills
and dales, the clear, sparkling stream, flowing over a
pebbly bottom, is indeed 'a thing of beauty and a joy forever.'

poem by James McIntyre
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Bottle-nosed whale of river Thames

Bottle-nosed whale of river Thames
It seems at last you have found fame
In your pitiful plight
Spectators can't wait to catch a glimpse
Of your pitiful sight

But bottle-nosed whale is trapped
Lying low as his last energy is sapped
Frightened by surrounding noises
Disturbed by speculating voices
After swimming miles and miles upstream
Curosity has rewarded him with only broken dreams
Unlike a cat, you have but only one life it seems

Bottle-nosed whale of river Thames
I feel for you all the same
Hope you have found your peace at last

poem by Sylvia Chidi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Fortune Seller

Fortune
Seller
Finder
Seeker
Giver
Taker
Wisdom keeper
Fortune
Sailing
Finder
Seeker
Giver
Taker
Wisdom maker
Take hold of the answer
Give life to the dreams you were foretold
Looking into the future
Trace the steps into the great unknown
Unknown
Unknown
Unknown
They say that time is like a river that flows
And where that river ends nobody knows
And so we navigate our way through this life
Riding the river
Riding the river
Take hold of your chances
Defy all of the odds that have been made
Making evey movement count
We step toward a golden age
You know
Only you know
Only you know
Fortune
Seller
Finder
Seeker
Giver
Taker
Wisdom keeper
Fortune
Sailing
Finder
Seeker
Giver
Taker
Wisdom maker
They say that time is like a river that flows
And where that river ends nobody will know
And so we navigate our way through this life
Riding the river
Riding the river
Giving into the power
Giving into the magic of the ride
Using imagination
We take a step into the other side
Fortune
Teller
Finder
Seeker
Giver
Taker
Wisdom keeper
They say that time is like a river that flows
And where that river ends nobody knows
And so we navigate our way through this life
Riding the river
Riding the river
1-800

song performed by by Yes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Fortune Seller

song performed by by Yes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

London West

While the Thames meanders gently through the green pasture
fields of Ingersoll, a pleasing picture to behold, how dif-
ferent, alas, is the feeling in London West, where the
river is an object of dread and terror, neither pleasing to
the eye or nostrils. As we have been living for the last
quarter of a century on the edge of one of the tributary
streams of the Thames and were once o'erwhelmed with
ruin dire by a number of the dams giving way, we can
sympathise with them. They are now built strong and
substantial, and the ponds are an ornament to the town,
as well as a source of wealth. The Caledonian Society,
of Ingersoll, donated $50 to the flood sufferers.

The citizens of London West
Their patience oft is put to test
When they behold the various dams
Do cause the floods and the ice jams.
'Tis true that fiercer rages floods
Since country it was stript of woods,
Acid river it doth broader spread
With numerous tile drains quicker fed.
If they did raise embankment high
They might the raging floods defy.
Shall they with sadness gaze ever,
Or with gladness on the river?
River with dams it will not wed,
It wants no strangers in its bed,
And 'gainst them it will rage and fret
for 'tis no gentle rivulet.

poem by James McIntyre
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Iron which is brought near a spiral of copper wire, traversed by an electrical current, becomes magnetic, and then attracts other pieces of iron, or a suitably placed steel magnet.

quote by Hermann von Helmholtz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

The River's Tale

Prehistoric

Twenty bridges from Tower to Kew--
(Twenty bridges or twenty-two)--
Wanted to know what the River knew,
For they were young, and the Thames was old
And this is the tale that River told:--

"I walk my beat before London Town,
Five hours up and seven down.
Up I go till I end my run
At Tide-end-town, which is Teddington.
Down I come with the mud in my hands
And plaster it over the Maplin Sands.
But I'd have you know that these waters of mine
Were once a branch of the River Rhine,
When hundreds of miles to the East I went
And England was joined to the Continent.

"I remember the bat-winged lizard-birds,
The Age of Ice and the mammoth herds,
And the giant tigers that stalked them down
Through Regent's Park into Camden Town.
And I remember like yesterday
The earliest Cockney who came my way,
When he pushed through the forest that lined the Strand,
With paint on his face and a club in his hand.
He was death to feather and fin and fur.
He trapped my beavers at Westminster.
He netted my salmon, he hunted my deer,
He killed my heron off Lambeth Pier.
He fought his neighbour with axes and swords,
Flint or bronze, at my upper fords,
While down at Greenwich, for slaves and tin,
The tall Phoenician ships stole in,
And North Sea war-boats, painted and gay,
Flashed like dragon-flies, Erith way;
And Norseman and Negro and Gaul and Greek
Drank with the Britons in Barking Creek,
And life was gay, and the world was new,
And I was a mile across at Kew!
But the Roman came with a heavy hand,
And bridged and roaded and ruled the land,
And the Roman left and the Danes blew in--
And that's where your history-books begin!"

poem by Rudyard Kipling
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

My Town

Tis my town
Am not proud of it;
But it is my home
Made it my own

Have found
Many memories,
Of things gone by
In this town
I call my own.

Born of iron and steel
Upon the river goes
This town of mine
I have made own

Stumbled upon things
I never owned
Down in
This town
I call my own

poem by Nick Strong
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

London Town

I do believe
I must believe
I think I can begin again
Become again the man I was back when
So Im walking on your streets again
Feeling now as I did then
Ive since become a different man
London town, turn be around
London town, carry me back
O london town, lost and found
And I feel like going back
I can remember lots of time and space
If I lose the name, still I know the faces
Time as come and left its traces
London town, turn be around
London town, carry me back
O london town, lost and found
And I feel like going back
When I grew too old and dull to rock n roll
Like to hold on tight to you darling
And when my fires have all burned out
Id like to think I can still think about
The things I used to sing about
When I was spending all my time alone
By myself and on my own
Seldom seen and quite unknown
London town, turn be around
London town, carry me back
O london town, lost and found
And I feel like going back

song performed by by James Taylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

The Old Song

A livid sky on London
And like the iron steeds that rear
A shock of engines halted
And I knew the end was near:
And something said that far away, over the hills and far away
There came a crawling thunder and the end of all things here.
For London Bridge is broken down, broken down, broken down,
As digging lets the daylight on the suken streets of yore,
The lightning looked on London town, the broken bridge of London town.
The ending of a broken road where men shall go no more.

I saw the kings of London town,
The kings that buy and sell,
That built it up with penny loaves
And penny lies as well:

And where the streets were paved with gold the shrivelled paper shone for gold,
The scorching light of promises that pave the streets of hell.
For penny loaves will melt away, melt away, melt away,
Mock the men that haggled in the grain they did not grow;
With hungry faces in the gate, a hundred thousand in the gate,
A thunder-flash on London and the finding of the foe.

I heard the hundred pin-makers
Slow down their racking din,
Till in the stillness men could hear
The dropping of the pin:
And somewhere men without the wall, beneath the wood, without the wall,
Had found the place where London ends and England can begin.
For pins and needles bend and break, bend and break, bend and break,
Faster than the breaking spears or the bending of the bow,
Of pagents pale in thunder-light, 'twixt thunderload and thunderlight,
The Hundreds marching on the hills in the wars of long ago.

I saw great Cobbett riding,
The horseman of the shires;
And his face was red with judgement
And a light of Luddite fires:
And south to Sussex and the sea the lights leapt up for liberty,
The trumpet of the yeomanry, the hammer of the squires;
For bars of iron rust away, rust away, rust away,
Rend before the hammer and the horseman riding in,
Crying that all men at the last, and at the worst and at the last,
Have found the place where England ends and England can begin.

His horse-hoofs go before you
Far beyond your bursting tyres;
And time is bridged behind him
And our sons are with our sires.

A trailing meteor on the Downs he rides above the rotting towns,
The Horseman of Apocalypse, the Rider of the Shires.
For London Bridge is broken down, broken down, broken down;
Blow the horn of Huntington from Scotland to the sea -
...Only flash of thunder-light, a flying dream of thunder-light,
Had shown under the shattered sky a people that were free.

poem by G.K. Chesterton
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy!

The Old Song

A livid sky on London
And like the iron steeds that rear
A shock of engines halted
And I knew the end was near:
And something said that far away, over the hills and far away
There came a crawling thunder and the end of all things here.
For London Bridge is broken down, broken down, broken down,
As digging lets the daylight on the suken streets of yore,
The lightning looked on London town, the broken bridge of London
town.
The ending of a broken road where men shall go no more.

I saw the kings of London town,
The kings that buy and sell,
That built it up with penny loaves
And penny lies as well:

And where the streets were paved with gold the shrivelled paper
shone for gold,
The scorching light of promises that pave the streets of hell.
For penny loaves will melt away, melt away, melt away,
Mock the men that haggled in the grain they did not grow;
With hungry faces in the gate, a hundred thousand in the gate,
A thunder-flash on London and the finding of the foe.

I heard the hundred pin-makers
Slow down their racking din,
Till in the stillness men could hear
The dropping of the pin:
And somewhere men without the wall, beneath the wood, without
the wall,
Had found the place where London ends and England can begin.
For pins and needles bend and break, bend and break, bend and break,
Faster than the breaking spears or the bending of the bow,
Of pagents pale in thunder-light, 'twixt thunderload and thunderlight,
The Hundreds marching on the hills in the wars of long ago.

His horse-hoofs go before you
Far beyond your bursting tyres;
And time is bridged behind him
And our sons are with our sires.

A trailing meteor on the Downs he rides above the rotting towns,
The Horseman of Apocalypse, the Rider of the Shires.
For London Bridge is broken down, broken down, broken down;
Blow the horn of Huntington from Scotland to the sea --
...Only flash of thunder-light, a flying dream of thunder-light,
Had shown under the shattered sky a people that were free.

poem by Gilbert Keith Chesterton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

London

London, a silhouette of old and new buildings,
some, still with winding staircases,
dark dismal cellars and dusty attics.
Sky scrapers, office blocks,
chic cottages and town houses
in, tiny, back street lanes
where I seldom wander

The London Eye revolves in the sky line,
spying on us, ogling the City,
that old river Thames,
with its river boats, old ships,
odd ships and the Houses of Parliament,
offices, where we, the peasants
may only look through the glass.

As a child I truly believed
that one day, I'd go into every building,
curiosity my forte, but of course,
there are too many, mostly private,
barred from my prying eyes,
except for some Castles, the Palace,
the Tower and its dungeons.

These are the buildings of London,
with its art galleries, theatres,
churches and museums.
No doubt some are haunted,
their ghosts still walking
within their walls,
at dusk, when shadows fall.

poem by Ruth Walters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

A Mother's Thoughts

I’m still here somewhere
Between the dishes and laundry
Breakfast, lunch and dinner
I’m still here.

I’m still here somewhere
Between the bills, the errands
Vacuuming, dusting, phones ringing
I’m still here.

I’m still here somewhere
Between school meetings, shopping, lawn mowing
Teasing, Refereeing, and “Mom, tell him to stop it”
I’m still here.

I’m still here somewhere
Between pre-school to high school
Toys to computers
I’m still here
But who am I?

poem by Connie Webb
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

En.Citatepedia®.ro

Dredging The River

Related quotes

Thames! Beautiful Thames!

Watching Swans From Caversham Bridge

Moon Shining Over The London Bridge

Left Behind

In Valleys of Springs and Rivers

A walk in the countryside

English Names on Canadian Thames

Bottle-nosed whale of river Thames

Fortune Seller

Fortune Seller

London West

The River's Tale

By Blackfriars Bridge

My Town

London Town

The Old Song

The Old Song

London

A Mother's Thoughts

En.Citatepedia^®.ro