A Stranger On The Shore
The waves rush up around my feet
from an early morning tide.
Seagulls bob up and down
resting on the water
waiting patiently
for the underlining currents
to carry their breakfast in.
The sky is dark and cloudy
with the looks of an approaching storm.
I stand here as an observer
as life goes on around.
A stranger on the shore
waiting here for no one,
breathing in the fresh salt air
filled with ecstasy at all that I see.
The regal white crowned waves
dancing momentarily around my feet.
They say the world is your oyster
and the pearl is all you see.
From my lonely vigil,
I gather wisdom in
as I stand alone at each morning tide
a stranger on the shore.
poem by David Harris
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Related quotes
Waves of depression are at my shore
Waves of depression
Have come riding in with the tide.
Not as clear as the ocean.
Waves of depression
has arrived at my shore
Wanting to swallow me whole.
As the tide comes in
It will sweep me of my feet
And drag me out to sea
poem by Amy Kerswell
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Waiting for You Everyday
Waiting for you
Tapped on the beach where the wave swept the footprints
The seashells rack their brains
How to attach to the ears to respond the tide?
Waiting for you everyday
At the moment that clearly divided the water and sky
The waters deeply separated
How to tide your figure over the sea
The sky is high above
How to flow your cloudy featuring
Does the water only alter its waves?
Does the sky really have no memories?
Whether it’s true or illusive, still
Waiting for you everyday
The moment in oneness of water and sky
poem by DePen Chang
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Stranger On The Shore
You stand near the sand dunes,
a stranger on the shore.
You stand there in black,
colours widows wore,
staring out at the restless sea,
knowing he will come back never more.
Everyday I see you there
as I walk along the shore.
Oh restless spirit, he is at peace now,
in the cradle of the deep.
His soul is in heaven waiting for you,
yet you are still restless,
as your time has passed.
You can go to the light now.
Your weeping should end.
Go find your peace in heaven evermore,
no longer be a stranger on the shore
29 June 2007
poem by David Harris
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A Mountshannon October Morning
The stranger sat upon the park bench,
and looked across the Lough.
Smoke from his pipe
blended with the cool morning breeze.
The distant mountains patchwork of green
sat under the hand of dawn’s rolling mist.
The white capped dark waters rolled endlessly against the shore,
nudging the sheltering boats against their moorings,
and washed over shoreline rocks
speckled with lichen and moss.
A pair of swans with their signets sheltered
in the calmer waters of the harbour
away from the white capped waves.
The sun edged its way into the sky,
from behind the sleeping mountains,
spreading red and oranged fingers
to touch the retreating night clouds.
The village adopted ginger cat
made his morning patrol
along the harbour’s sleeping boats,
in a search for breakfast.
The autumn coloured tree leaves,
fluttered in the morning breeze
as the wind and waves rolling
over the shore bound rocks disturbing
the dawning silence.
poem by David Harris
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The Man Parts the Water
The man parts the water with a simple stone,
turning when the laughter
of a child retraces the shattered waves.
The man remembers with a smile
the days when he walked the shore,
dancing with silver-eyed seagulls, and he
was always looking ahead as he
stands and tilts releasing stone,
watching it sail through the misty shore.
The child parts the water with shrieking laughter,
and dreams about the day he will knowingly smile
as his cocked man-hand reaches the stormy waves.
Watching the moon pull the scornful waves
that kick the sand onto the shore, now he’s
the ghost of a child that stands with a smile.
He parts the water with a simple stone,
listening to the moon’s blue shaken laughter
at a man awaiting his golden hour upon the murky shore.
The grains whisper into the wind. And the shore
is crowded with memories of waves,
filling a young boy’s face with laughter.
It permeates the darkness, yet he
still craves the stone
to bring the man’s euphoric smile.
Caught in a moment without laughter or smiles,
walking along the shore
he wishes upon a simple stone
for another chance to play and frolic in waves.
The child sees his reflection with an anxious smile, and he
becomes a man between the laughter.
And he will always remember the laughter,
and he will always long for an innocent smile
of waiting for the day that unknowingly he
could never return to the shore.
Churning as it breaks the waves,
the past is left in simple stone.
But for now there is laughter upon the shore,
riding along the whispering waves,
the child’s future still a simple stone.
(- for Nicolas Mathew)
poem by Matt Ullman
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Ultima Thule: The Tide Rises, The Tide Falls
The tide rises, the tide falls,
The twilight darkens, the curlew calls;
Along the sea-sands damp and brown
The traveller hastens toward the town,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
Darkness settles on roofs and walls,
But the sea, the sea in the darkness calls;
The little waves, with their soft, white hands,
Efface the footprints in the sands,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
The morning breaks; the steeds in their stalls
Stamp and neigh, as the hostler calls;
The day returns, but nevermore
Returns the traveller to the shore,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Tide Rises, the Tide Falls, The
The tide rises, the tide falls,
The twilight darkens, the curlew calls;
Along the sea-sands damp and brown
The traveler hastens toward the town,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
Darkness settles on roofs and walls,
But the sea, the sea in darkness calls;
The little waves, with their soft, white hands
Efface the footprints in the sands,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
The morning breaks; the steeds in their stalls
Stamp and neigh, as the hostler calls;
The day returns, but nevermore
Returns the traveler to the shore.
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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The Tide Rises, the Tide Falls
The tide rises, the tide falls,
The twilight darkens, the curlew calls;
Along the sea-sands damp and brown
The traveller hastens toward the town,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
Darkness settles on roofs and walls,
But the sea, the sea in the darkness calls;
The little waves, with their soft, white hands,
Efface the footprints in the sands,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
The morning breaks; the steeds in their stalls
Stamp and neigh, as the hostler calls;
The day returns, but nevermore
Returns the traveller to the shore,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Ashore, ashore with the tide’s flow
Ashore, ashore with the tide’s flow
As in a sack some thing washed in:
And lay amidst the shells
And pebbles of the shore
Amidst the lapping of the waters rude
And the sea-waves’ roar.
Ashore, ashore with the tide’s flow
The sea-waves washed her in
One eye was closed the other open
And on her golden hair
Were drops of red:
Wild lapped the sea-waves and the cloud
Frowned on the sea-shore
Amidst the lapping of the waters rude
And the sea-waves’ roar.
How many winters rude have skimmed
Their frozen fingers on the white breast
Of the pale moon-lit lake a-dreaming sound
How many a Spring of green
Has come and gone:
Since that ashore, ashore with the tide’s flow
The sea-waves washed her in
Her clothes that rich were tattered were
Unseemly with the smoke of cigars
And the drunk smell of alcohol
Her look was wild and sad and raw:
Wild lapped the sea-waves and the cloud
Frowned on the sea-shore
Amidst the lapping of the waters rude
And the sea-waves’ roar.
poem by Emmanuel George Cefai
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Early Christmas Morning
Listen to the children sing
Watch them dancing all around the Christmas tree
Waiting for the opening
Early Christmas morning
All around the world is sleeping
Little children there's no peeping
Wait and see what Santa's bringing
Early Christmas morning
Early Christmas morning
Icicles and breakfast cakes
Friends and family we will celebrate
Sounds that joy and laughter make
Early Christmas morning
All around and far off places
Angels waken smiling faces
Wrapping us with love and graces
Early Christmas morning
Early Christmas morning
song performed by by Cyndi Lauper from Merry Christmas... Have A Nice Life
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Alone On the Beach
The ocean waves lap at my feet, the warm salt speckled water warming me against the soft breeze. Soft tan sand as fine as dust shifts beneath my feet. The sun still sits above the horizon, which was good, because she wasn't here yet. I've been waiting so long. I stopped counting the days when I began to lose hope, but I still wait for her. She is so lost in here own mind, so confused by over-analyzing thoughts. She's so much like me, yet so very different. Her music plays through my head, over and over, it brings me so close to her heart, because that's the only time she leaves it open. But it makes me sad, because she's so far away. The sun dies behind the water. She's not here so there is no beauty in its passing. I've spent yet another day alone on this crowded shore.
I think back to so many nights ago, she held me against her heart as I finally fell to pieces, no longer needing to be so strong. Then she left. I don't want to feel the pain so I tell myself its not real and force it to leave me be, so I can stand alone on this crowded beach, waiting for my heart to return.
'Come home....'
poem by John Dillenger II
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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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For music
ALONG the shore, along the shore
I see the wavelets meeting:
But thee I see--ah, never more,
For all my wild heart's beating.
The little wavelets come and go,
The tide of life ebbs to and fro,
Advancing and retreating:
But from the shore, the steadfast shore,
The sea is parted never:
And mine I hold thee evermore,
Forever and forever.
Along the shore, along the shore
I hear the waves resounding,
But thou wilt cross them nevermore
For all my wild heart's bounding:
The moon comes out above the tide
And quiets all the billows wide
Her pathway bright surrounding:
Thus on the shore, the dreary shore,
I walk with weak endeavor:
I have thy love's light evermore,
Forever and forever.
poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
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Men, the waves
The sea waves meet the shore.
The waves ebb; the shore stays ashore.
He, the wave, meets her, the shore.
The waves carry the carcass of the tryst.
The shore buries the debris of the tryst.
Man sticks to the past, woman to the future.
13.01.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Ocean
1969 live version
--------------------------------------------
Here comes the ocean
And the waves down by the shore
Here comes the ocean
And the waves down by the sea
Earth is a hollow hair bought of a bigger head
It nearly drives me crazy
I am a lazy son
I never get things down
...(unknown)
But here comes the waves
Down by the shore
Washing the eye of the land
That has been down by the sea
Down by the sea
Down by the sea
Down by the sea
Here comes the ocean and the waves
Down by the shore
Here comes the ocean and the waves
Down by the sea
(incense or in sex or insects) for evil thoughts, thought of by selfish men
It nearly drives me crazy
I am a lazy son
I never get things done
...(unknown)
Here comes the waves down by the shore
Washing the eye of the land that has been down by the sea
Down by the sea
Here come the waves
Here come the waves
Here come the waves
Peel slowly and see version
---------------------------------------------
Here comes the ocean
And the waves
Down by the sea
Here comes the ocean
And the waves
Where have they been?
Silver and black with night
Heres to a summers night
An empty splendid castle
Glowering alone at night
The princess has had a fright
Madness seeks out the lover
And here come the waves down by the shore
Washing the soul of the body
That comes from the depths of the sea
Here comes the ocean
And the waves down by the sea
Here comes the ocean
And the waves, where have they been
Dont swim tonight my love
The tide is out my love
Malcoms curse haunts our family
Oh yes, loud in which, ruler of filthy seas, revelling heavans justice
And here come the waves
And save for a scream
Theres much like a song
To be heard, in the wind, that blows by the sea.
Like the wind
Here come the waves,
Here come the waves,
Here come the waves
song performed by by Velvet Underground
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Table Bay [2]
I can hear the waves roar,
slamming shingle on the rocks, the beach
drawing in and out
on Bloubergstrand
and the cadence is a age old shuddering
of waves breaking, continuing like before
and in the distance Table Bay
lies stretched out specked with
hundreds of little lights
like a enormous crown
with the flat mountain top
on display, etched against the night sky
and its full tide, the moon is full
yellow and magnificent
and the place of good hope,
lies on the shore
with waves breaking forever more
and lonely the beach stretches out before me,
in a long white ribbon
and the dark water goes out to the horizon,
almost as far as I can see
and the sea wind is fresh and new
and there's no light in sight
on the wavering ocean
just a darkness that envelopes me
as the waves
are throwing pebbles out
and drawing them in
before breaking on the beach
and there's nobody to be true to,
nobody to trust, only the reality of the here and now
and all hope, all promises, all joy and pain
remains the same
swept in and out of a confused world
forever breaking, forever rushing in.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Solitude Of The Waves
SOLITUDE OF THE WAVES
Melvin Banggollay
As the tide of the ocean rises high
to kiss the lovely breast of the shore,
flocks of birds keeps on flying high
over the blue ocean's widest floor,
the winter breeze shares its delight
of coldness I can't long endure
while i'm in solitude of solemn sigh
reflecting deeply if I can still endure
memories written with every tides
of a love once build upon this shore.
The shore was filled with serenity
as the moonlight radiance glow,
When I heard her whisper softly
in my ears promises I never knew
have only faithless spirit and beauty
of a love and romance she bestow
that filled my heart with so much glee
that even the waves dances with joy
with the happiness that bewildered me
on that one lucky night upon this shore.
but now as I walk alone this beach
The waves seems come to me to fade
with lonely smile as they try to reach
and take back the footprints I laid
upon the shore once been the seat
of a love now only in memory be made
as teardrops in my eyes start to heat
and melt down again for a decade
of pain and agony as memory unseat
and keep on coming back like waves.
poem by Melvin Banggollay
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Waiting
Waiting
Sparkling ripples on the water
blessed by the morning sun.
The little birds that fly
through the freeways of the sky
as I stand here waiting
for my love to come.
I have waited for so long
My tears are now dried
The sun has now sets in the east
Rainbows falling at my feet
waiting for my love to come
Our home is cold
The trees are bare
The wind has gone in rage
Not a shadow, nor single footstep
i am waiting
poem by Meggie Gultiano
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Ghost Of Our Love
Watching the waves rolling to the shore,
as I sit throwing pebbles into the water.
The smoke from my cigarette
drifts over my head,
caught in the evening breeze.
Pictures of you move across my mind,
and I sit wondering
how many waves you will see
before you reach that distant shore,
where your new life will begin.
Tears leak from my eyes,
as I remember
why you were sailing away.
There was nothing I could say
to make you stay.
The storms were too long,
too dark in intensity,
and too many.
Now you are going half a world away.
I wish you luck my love.
Standing I look out, at the restless sea.
For a few moments,
an almost eternity.
I stand there seeing nothing,
but curling while rolling waves.
’Good luck and goodbye.’
I whispered in the breeze
before turning away,
heading back to n empty home
that is waiting for me.
The ghost of our love,
my only company.
As I reach the path,
there is a light on within.
My key slips into the lock,
it turns and the door opens.
Your silhouette stands there
with arms outstretched.
Is this just a ghost of out love?
Our fingertips touch
and my heart begins to beat once more.
poem by David Harris
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Torquay
The tide is now far out of reach, of the beach,
And so there are miles of sand, a sight so grand,
A lighthouse takes a stand, long time unmanned,
While seagulls veer and fly inland, up the strand.
Boats are following the tide, and smoothly glide,
And salty winds beat the distant waves, to the caves.
And I sit here on weathered rocks, without my socks,
Looking out across the sea, in a warm Torquay.
Along the curving promenade, the Med's displayed,
With luscious palms of green, which set the scene.
And rising up behind the bay, a strange jumbled array,
Of holiday apartments, most are let, with a kitchenette.
Here with their lists of guarantees, row's of neat, clean B & B's
Are waiting for rooms to be vacated, ready for those awaited,
With no fixed times for meals, for that is what appeals
To the weekly and fortnightly partakers, and early wakers.
And here I am dangling my toes, and writing some prose.
A better life than this, could not exist, it is sheer bliss.
But with the tide just on the turn, I think I'll now adjourn,
To tea and mouth-watering cakes, which Grandma makes.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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