En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Summer On The South Bank

Nothing quite beats strolling along
London's South Bank in the sun.
From the cafes and bars laughter is heard.
The vibe is electric. There's a real sense of fun.

Like a giant bicycle wheel,
Turning slowly, is the London Eye.
Its numerous see-through pods
Carrying passengers way up high.

The 'Appearing Rooms' art installation,
Has constantly dancing water jets.
Small children in swimwear, shriek with joy,
As them, the water cools and wets.

In the ballroom at the Royal Festival Hall,
There's often entertainment for free.
You can watch singers, dancers or musicians,
While sitting having cake and a cup of tea.

Out on the rolling River Thames,
There's boats of all kinds, including catamarans.
As they pass under the numerous bridges,
Passers-by smile and wave their hands.

At Gabriel's Wharf, a bit further along,
The smell of garlic lingers in the air.
People sit outside eating pizza and pasta,
Chatting and relaxing, without a care.

The sand sculptors work away
On the small beach left by the tide.
When the water, once again, rises,
Their masterpieces, it will wash away and hide.

Keep going, and you come to the Globe,
Where the roar of the crowd can be heard.
This round wooden 'O' is dedicated
To keeping alive Shakespeare's word.

Ice cream vans are dotted along the way,
Selling strawberry, vanilla and chocolate ice.
They often also sell other snacks and drinks.
With their wares, customers they try to entice.

Caught up in the atmosphere,
It's hard to tear yourself away,
But you finally leave the thrilling throng,
In the knowledge that you can repeat it all another day.

poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What I Saw In London..

A full on confrontation between two angry guys,
Which made me stop in my tracks and avert my eyes.
At the Royal Festival Hall, a singer and a jazz band.
Couples whirling each other round the ballroom, holding hands.

A film crew by Gabriel's Wharf, filming 'Pop Up Quiz, '
Although, I haven't the faintest what that exactly is! ?
A young woman near the bridge of Blackfriars,
Performing operatic pieces till her hearts desire.

A middle aged man playing solo acoustic guitar,
Sat strumming away, just along from the riverside bar.
A lone trumpeter playing a rendition of 'Amazing Grace' -
I love buskers: They really add to the ambience of the place.

In Embankment Gardens, there was an American school band,
But I only stopped for a while, as the heat I just couldn't stand.
Under Waterloo Bridge, the famous book fair:
I looked around, but didn't buy anything there.

A pebble, a young boy, along the water skimmed,
Just done on a single moment's heartfelt whim.
Sand artists at work on the small exposed beach.
People sitting, relaxing on the wooden seats.

Lots of people dining under umbrellas in the shade,
Eating mouth watering food, all freshly made.
The Globe Theatre shop, where I went to take a look,
And ended up buying a very useful Shakespeare book.

Children getting soaked in the fountains, making a din.
I loved the feeling of the cooling spray on my very hot skin.
And as I walked back to Waterloo, en route,
I came across a magazine photo shoot.

You never know what things you may find,
And it's nice to paint a picture in your mind.

poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Working Metaphore

Work is like an island in an ocean of time
Landing on this shore felt like paradise
But the island is small and quickly grows boring
I am standing in the water, looking out as I work

Time passes in portions of half an hour
Wave upon wave of life slipping down the tide-line
I am deciding whether to let go and wash away with it
Or hold on and climb the beach again

How many islands are in this ocean?
I gaze out and see a few just waiting for me
Can I swim to them, will they take me?
In the water between them, is there love lurking?

Changes are on the horizon, as a tsunami
Rolling towards this island invisibly, towards me
None of the islands will survive it, I fear
Or maybe only I will be washed away into oblivion

Tick, splash, tick, splash, wave upon wave of half hours
Carrying me just a little further from the dry sand
Behind me, the managers are calling from the trees
I hesitate for a moment, and let the waves wash over me

Only a few more, and I can swim for a while,
I might ride the changes to a far away place if I'm swimming
In the water I can meet another, to drown my regrets of the last
The waves wash over me, and I wait for the tide to swim

poem by Poet Dragon
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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
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Moments At The Beach

flowing water, cool breeze
waves washing a shore
birds drifting in the wind
boats sailing on the water
people strolling along the beach
children playing in the sand
sun bathers laying a shore
swimmers playing in the water
volleyball in the sand
family picnics under the trees
The lake so beautiful
The beach so free
people being friendly
the life so simple for a day at the beach
Strangers, friends and family enjoying the lake
the simple things in life is enjoy nature and ourselves

poem by Michael Peterson
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The Train To Waterloo

I can see the 10.06 train heading towards Waterloo,
And, I wish I could jump aboard, and go there too!
I have a real longing to head on up to London City,
But I have to go to work today, which is a real pity.

In spirit, I’m also riding with the people on the train,
But, here, in this sleepy old town, my body remains.
I can imagine myself sitting there in a train carriage;
With London, I have formed a really loving marriage!

To be one of those lucky passengers, I am yearning;
So much so, that it feels as though my heart is burning.
I can imagine sitting on a train, which is really packed,
As it heads up towards London, along the railway tracks.

I’ve lived here, all my life, in this sleepy little town,
Where there is hardly ever anything really going down.
But, in London, there is always something going on,
Amidst the Capital’s seemingly never-ending throng.

I so love being there, slap bang in the middle of it all;
Surrounded by crowds, the river, and buildings so tall.
Compared to my town, there’s a different atmosphere;
It’s more exciting, more happening, than it ever is here.

The sights and sounds, in London, I so love to savour,
And breathe in the aroma of a whole world of flavours.
To go to London very often, sadly, I just can’t afford,
But it still doesn’t stop me wishing that I was aboard.

poem by Angela Wybrow
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Top Taps

At the Royal Festival Hall, on the third floor,
There is an experience which I just adore.
Every time that I visit there, I always choose
To wash my hands under the taps in their loos.

Out of the tap, the water suddenly gushes;
On to my waiting hands, hot water rushes.
Into the basin, water froths and foams:
I really wish we had these taps at home.

Round my wrists, the white water swirls
Like a precious bracelet, made of pearl.
Bubbles coat my hands, just like a glove:
It is a sensation which I simply love.

By the bubbles, my hands are massaged.
Luckily, for these loos, there isn't a charge.
With these taps, I am a little obsessed.
These are the taps which I love the best!

poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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River Thames

Roaring and flowing from
Gloucestershire via Teddington
Leaving exquisiteness here
while passing through London.

North bank and south bank,
a compass of the England
Very strategic position
for many cultural events.

Blessed with kisses of darling
Oxford, Kingston, Windsor,
Feel of heaven around
for nature lovers and writers.

Great source for food and water
for the people of England,
Giving habitation to millions
for the years of thousands.

With sailing and rowing
a major leisure and pleaser,
For outing and romance
tranquil banks of the river.

Watched conquerers, emperors,
passing time of England,
falling of London bridge,
making up of whole land,

Helping people's prosperity,
a boon for the Nation,
Fulfils numerous human needs,
thrives lives flowing or frozen.

(C) S. D. Tiwari

poem by S.D. Tiwari
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Waterborne love with Neptune’s Daughter

I’m goin’ wash you
right outa my hair
I’m goin ‘to wash you right outa’
this torrid affair,
I’m goin’ wash my hands
of you untrue
Once made my mouth water,
the likes of you,
You held my love like water
on a ducks back
You conniving water nymph
dressed in black,
Plying your waterborne love,
in you I did trust
Lying on your waterbed
goading my lust,
My God I knew this would
not hold water
Are you really the delinquent
Neptune’s daughter,
Swimming off with that
water canon hulk
Hope your water course leads
to the Isle of Sulk.
Now I feel like a water holding
frog waiting for rain
To swim in rivers of
love again and again,
With my tear filled water pistol
I’ll aim at you,
To water you down,
finally meeting your Waterloo.

poem by Ken e Hall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Down To London

Stop - whats that sound
Its the death rattle of this rusty old town
Stop - listen again
Its the sound of laughter all along the thames
Hey - whats my line
Do I have to stay here til the end of time
Im - good lookin and bright
I wanna see life after ten at night
So if they ask you where I am
Im in the back of a transit van
In a squat on the earls court road
Gone down to london turning coal into gold
Down to london - down to london
Gone down to london to be the king
Hey - whats your name
The boys back home all seem to look the same
You - should stick with me
And one of us will make it, just you see
Stop - whats that sound
Seems like the sixties are still swingin around
Hey - can you hear me back there
Or is there anybody left to care
So if you ask me where they are
Theyre hanging tough in a soho bar
Playing guitars in the underground
Gone down to london tryin to chase that sound
Down to london - down to london
Gone down to london to be the king
So I ask you should I cry or laugh
Drinking tea in a kings cross caff
A leather jacket against the cold
Gone down to london turning coal into gold
Down to london - down to london
Gone down to london to be the king

song performed by by Joe Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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London's Burning

His eyes reflect the golden fire, his pupils burning bright
As he turns away they feel a sudden, crying urge to fight
Big Old Ben has run away, they always thought it might
London's Burning
London's Burning

The chapels down in Kensington are bursting into flames
The children of the neighbourhood are dancing, gone insane
They hug their parent's knees and try to cry away the shame
London's Burning
London's Burning

Members of the royalty rush in to see the Queen
She's rushed off to a bunker, told to wait and not to scream
But all of London's gone aflame, her bunker traps her here
London's Burning
London's Burning

Teenage gangs are on the prowl, they go from place to place
They need no names or calls or shouts, don't need know their race
Just know that all who wear a hood are filled to burst with rage
London's Burning
London's Burning

2 weeks on, the smoke has gone and rebels rule the streets
No-one walks the road at all for fear of who they'll meet
The dead are marked with crosses red and hid with pale sheets
London's Burning
London's Burning

2 more weeks, rotting flesh is all that you can smell
Water's got infected, and the food's all gone as well
The only people left, they wander in a living hell
London's Burning
London's Burning

poem by Matt Pocock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Jottings of New York

Oh, mighty city of New York, you are wonderful to behold--
Your buildings are magnificent-- the truth be it told--
They were the only thing that seemed to arrest my eye,
Because many of them are thirteen storeys high;

And as for Central Park, it is lovely to be seen--
Especially in the summer season when its shrubberies are green
And the Burns Statue is there to be seen,
Surrounded by trees on the beautiful sward so green;
Also Shakespeare and the immortal Sir Walter Scott,
Which by Scotchmen and Englishmen will never be forgot.

There are people on the Sabbath day in thousands resort--
All lov'd, in conversation, and eager for sport;
And some of them viewing the wild beasts there,
While the joyous shouts of children does rend the air--
And also beautiful black swans, I do declare.

And there's beautiful boats to be seen there,
And joyous shouts of children does rend the air,
While the boats sail along with them o'er Lohengrin Lake,
And fare is 5 cents for children, and adults ten is all they take.

And there's also summer-house shades, and merry-go-rounds
And with the merry laughter of the children the Park resounds,
During the live-long Sabbath day
Enjoying themselves at the merry-go-round play.

Then there's the elevated railroads abont five storeys high,
Which the inhabitants can hear night and day passing by;
Of, such a mass of people there daily do throng--
No less than five 100,000 daily pass along;
And all along the city you can get for five cents--
And, believe me, among the passengers there's few discontent.

And the top of the houses are mostly all flat,
And in the warm weather the people gather to chat;
Besides, on the housetops they dry their clothes;
And, also, many people all night on the housetops repose.

And numerous ships end steamboats are there to be seen,
Sailing along the East River water, which is very green--
Which is certainly a most beautiful sight
To see them sailing o'er the smooth water day and night.

And as for Brooklyn Bridge, it's a very great height,
And fills the stranger's heart with wonder at first sight;
And with all its loftiness I venture to say
It cannot surpass the new railway bridge of the Silvery Tay.

And there's also ten thousand rumsellers there--
Oh, wonderful to think of, I do declare!
To accommodate the people of New York therein,
And to encourage them to commit all sorts of sin.

And on the Sabbath day ye will see many a man
Going for beer with a big tin can,
And seems proud to be seen carrying home the beer
To treat his neighbours and his family dear.

Then at night numbers of the people dance and sing,
Making the walls of their houses to ring
With their songs and dancing on Sabbath night,
Which I witnessed with disgust, and fled from the sight.

And with regard to New York and the sights I did see--
Believe me, I never saw such sights in Dundee;
And the morning I sailed from the city of New York
My heart it felt as light as a cork.

poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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Splash!

Splashing water, Water get,
Shooting jets, Getting wet,
Crystal Clear, Cool Water,
Water, Water, Water matter,
Water's Life, Water let
Living life, Keep alive.
Water, water, we survive.

poem by Philo Yan
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De aguado, le fandango varie O

The descendant of the Spanish Friar says:

What I am selling to you is
Water, something to drink

It is more than that
It is also something to sprinkle
Your forehead
And you become holy
Free from sin
You pay for holiness

Now walk on the aisle
Of the church
And how they look at you
A holy man
Because of my holy water

And you will have a halo
And you become radiant
Radioactive perhaps

I repeat I do not just sell water to drink
It would just be ordinary

I am selling to you purity of soul
I am selling to you a future in heaven

Come now, buy water
Sprinkle your souls
Make them holy
Sprinkle them to all
Parts of your body

Meanwhile, there will be no mass
For the coming week
I will be on honeymoon with the woman
Who got the water from the well

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Cool Water

Words and music by bob nolan
Revised lyrics by joni mitchell
All day I face the barren waste
Without a taste of water
Cool water
Old dan and i
Our throats slate dry
Our spirits cry out for water
Cool clear water
Keep on movin dan
Some devils had a plan
Buried poison in the sand
Dont drink it man
Its in the water
Cool clear water
In my mind I see
A big green tree
And a river flowin free
Waitin up ahead
For you and me
Cool clear water
The nights are cool and Im a fool
Each star is a pool of water
Cool water
But come the dawn
We carry on
We wont last long without water
Cool clear water
Keep on movin dan
Were still in no-mans land
Dry bones and sand
People never planned here for water
Cool clear water
In my mind I see
A big green tree
And a river flowin free
Waiting up ahead for you and me
Cool clear water
The shadows sway
They seem to say
Tonight we pray for water
Cool water
And way up there
If you care
Please show us where
Theres good water
Cool clear water

song performed by by Joni Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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London

My visits to London always bring me cheer;
I wish it were possible to bottle the atmosphere.
I would collect together all the sights and sounds,
And surround myself with them, when I’m down.

A trip to London always seems to lift my mood;
By good old London town, I’m easily wooed.
There is always something new and exciting,
Which is why, to me, London seems so inviting.

I may begin a day feeling just a little bit down,
But once in London, a smile replaces my frown.
It’s one of my very favourite places to be;
There’s always so much to do and to see.

I think that London is such an amazing place;
It can suit all your needs, whatever your pace.
In central London, people are always in a rush,
But in the gardens and parks, can be found, hush.

When in London, I always feel on such a high;
My problems, for the day, I can kiss goodbye.
At the end of the day, I don’t want to leave.
The heady mix of aromas, I love to breathe.

I always find it so very hard, to pull myself away,
When, deep in my heart, I desperately want to stay.
Even when, at Waterloo, I’m sat on my train;
In London, a little piece of my heart remains.

poem by Angela Wybrow
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Summer At The Beach

It is late morning and I arrive at the beach,
Which is alive with so many sights, sounds and smells.
The sound of the rhythmic waves can be heard,
As can the sound of children's excited whoops and yells.

The sea glints and glitters in the shining sun.
The feel of wet sand beneath my feet is pure bliss.
Just being here enlivens all of my senses
And the feeling is way too good to miss.

The surfers are out and about in full force,
Hoping with their hearts to catch the waves they crave.
Lifeguards keep watch from the beach that all is well
And anyone they see getting into difficulty, they'll save.

Dogs splash around at the water's edge.
They shake their coats; the droplets drench like rain.
Then, having splashed everything in sight,
They race back down to the water and dash back in again!

Small yachts can be seen way out to sea;
Their white sails glinting like pure snow.
A speed boat zig zags, zipping across the bay,
Leaving a frothy white trail as it goes.

The cries of seagulls can be heard
As they wheel around on the lookout for a bite to eat.
Discarded bits of sandwich, doughnut or crisps
Are often found and for them make a tasty treat.

Walking and talking or just lost in their thoughts,
People stroll along the seemingly endless prom.
Losing all track of time and distance,
Amazed when they look back to see where they've walked from.

Children are splashing about in the sea,
Or building sandcastles of every kind,
While others go off exploring the rock pools
Full of excited anticipation of what they may find.

Some people are happy to sit in the sun
On a towel or on a sun lounger and relax,
While others like to play sports or games,
Wanting to live their lives to the very max!

At the kiosks along the front, there are massive queues
Buying chips, burgers, doughnuts, popcorn and soft drinks.
Sat in their stripy deckchairs outside their beach huts,
People read the paper or try to catch forty winks.

People are sat on the patio outside the pub on the prom,
Eating and drinking and busily chatting away.
With the warm summer sun kissing their skin,
They wish this moment would last all day.

Sunny days like these really lift your mood,
And it's a shame we don't see much of this weather.
But when these sun-drenched days do come along,
You wish they could go on for ever and ever!

poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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London

New York winter
Traffic squeals
The city feels...so old
Late December
Taxi ride
Then run inside
It's cold
Got your letter Monday
I think
Or Tuesday
I lose track
Since then I've been thinking of you
And I've been
Looking back to
London
Can you believe it's
So many years since
London
Hitching a ride and
Carrying knapsacks
London
In the park
By the Thames
Drinking tea
London
Sitting in pubs and
Living in walk-ups
London
Learning the accent
Learnin' to love you
London
We were young
We we sure
We were...free
Was it really ages
Ago
The memories
Never fade
Can you hear Big Ben where
You are
And are you
Glad you stayed in
London
Dodging the rain with
Broken umbrellas
London
Reading the times
On Saturday picnics
London
Counting the stars,
'Till the stars
All were gone
London
So many plans and
Nothing but time in
London
Nothing to fear 'cause
Nothing could last in
London
We grew close
We grew scared
I moved on
Oh London
What were we scared of
Why did I run from
London
Part of me still has
Never come back from
London
Is it fair
That I miss
You so much
Take good care
All my love
Keep in touch
New York winter
Taxi ride
Then run inside
It's cold

song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Chalk And Cheese

Around Camden Market, there's a lively pace,
But, just minutes away, there's a different place.
It's as though you have entered another world:
A whole new kingdom is suddenly unfurled.

There, you'll discover tranquillity and peace;
Life's hustle and bustle will suddenly cease.
It's a peaceful haven: a welcome oasis of calm;
It's a really special place, packed full of charm.

It was a warm, sunny day - perfect for walking;
On the benches, people sat reading, or just talking.
Along the canal, painted narrow-boats cruised;
Further upstream, people were paddling canoes.

Ducks and moorhens were dotted here and there.
At a Friesian cow sculpture, I stopped and stared.
Wavy patterns decorated the bridges' undersides.
For cyclists, the towpath made a pleasant ride.

As I passed London Zoo, I heard a waterfall:
Not what I expected to hear in London at all!
I spied some posh villas sitting atop the bank:
No doubt, the residences of the upper ranks.

Further along, the mood was suddenly broken:
It was as though the world had suddenly woken.
I heard the loud rumble of a passenger train,
And, through the sky, there roared a jet plane.

To follow the towpath, I just felt compelled:
Jewels like this, I never knew London held.
One of London's hidden gems, I uncovered;
This place, I felt so thrilled to have discovered.

poem by Angela Wybrow
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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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