Curling Waters
The tide rolls in on curling waters,
then stretches its fingers to touch the shore.
It hisses as each wave breaks
and its white waters pound against
the sands and rolling stones.
We can sit for hours watching
its endless race
to see which finger
can go farthest up the shore.
Its waters then retreat
as a new wave takes its place.
25 September 2008
poem by David Harris
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Related quotes
I Lay Down By The Shore Of Where I Am
I LAY DOWN BY THE SHORE OF WHERE I AM
I lay down by the shore of where I am-
The heavy long waters have already gone by-
Night is coming,
And night may be dark for a long time-
I will not lay down for long
I will rest
And then I will begin again-
Another sea another shore another world-
Who knows how vast the Beyond is
And whether if real it goes on forever?
I have rested enough-
Let the waters roll
I am on my way to another universe
All of you I have loved, Goodbye for now
Let us meet again somewhere else we cannot begin to see now-
Love rolls through all the Universes and it will take us too to another shore and a new paradise.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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As They Stroll Along
The silvery moonlight
dances on the incoming waves
as they hiss against the shore.
Couples arm in arm
dare the waters
as it curls around their toes.
They smile at one another,
capture a lingering kiss
by the waters edge
and their feet leave footprints
in the dampened sand
as they stroll along
a shore made for love.
23 May 2008
poem by David Harris
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The Dreamer on the Sea-shore
What are the dreams of him who may sleep
Where the solemn voice of the troubled deep
Steals on the wind with a sullen roar,
And the waters foam along the shore?
Who shelter'd lies in some calm retreat,
And hears the music of waves at his feet?
He sees not the sail that passes on
O'er the sunny fields of the sea, alone,
The farthest point that gleams on the sight,
A vanishing speck of glittering light.
He sees not the spray that, spreading wide,
Throws its lines of snow on the dark green tide;
Or the billows rushing with crests of foam
As they strove which first should reach their home—
Their home! What home has the restless main,
Which only arrives to return again,
Like the wand'rer she bears on her stormy breast,
Who seeks in vain for a place of rest.
Lo! His visions bear him along
To rocks that have heard the mermaid's song:
Or, borne on the surface of some dark surge,
Unharm'd he lies, while they onward urge
Their rapid course, and waft him away
To islands half hid 'midst the shadowy spray,
Where trees wave their boughs in the perfum'd gale,
And bid the wave-borne stranger hail;
Where birds are flitting like gems in the sun,
And streams over emerald meadows run,
That whisper in melody as they glide
To the flowers that blush along their side.
Sorrow ne'er came to that blissful shore,
For no mortal has entered that isle before:
There the Halcyon waits on the sparkling strand
Till the bark of her lover the Nautilus land;
She spreads her purple wings to the air,
And she sees his fragile vessel there—
She sees him float on the summer sea,
Where no breath but the sigh of his love may be.
The dreamer leaps towards that smiling shore—
When, lo! the vision is there no more!
Its trees, its flowers, its birds are gone—
A waste of waters is spread alone.
Plunged in the tide, he struggles amain—
High they pour, and he strives in vain:
He sinks—the billows close over his head,
He shrieks—'tis over—the dream is fled;
Secure he lies in his calm retreat,
And the idle waters still rave at his feet.
poem by Louisa Stuart Costello
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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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A life on the ocean wave
A life on the ocean wave,
A home on the rolling deep,
Where the scattered waters rave,
And the winds their revels keep!
Like an eagle caged, I pine
On this dull, unchanging shore:
Oh! give me the flashing brine,
The spray and the tempest's roar!
Once more on the deck I stand
Of my own swift-gliding craft:
Set sail! farewell to the land!
The gale follows fair abaft.
We shoot through the sparkling foam
Like an ocean-bird set free; -
Like the ocean-bird, our home
We'll find far out on the sea.
The land is no longer in view,
The clouds have begun to frown;
But with a stout vessel and crew,
We'll say, Let the storm come down!
And the song of our hearts shall be,
While the winds and the waters rave,
A home on the rolling sea!
A life on the ocean wave!
poem by Epes Sargent
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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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The Sea
The sea has always
held a fascination with me
with its restlessness.
Breakers falling on
far and distant shores.
Waves rushing up sandy beaches,
then retreating to roam some more.
I sit for hours just watching and dreaming
where each wave might have been.
On its waters, roam mighty ships
coming and going from home.
One day I may old sea roam.
My dreams may come true
and on your waters explore
the different lives lead
on far-flung distant shores.
Until that day comes along
on the beach, I’ll sit and dream.
7 June 2008
poem by David Harris
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I Saw From the Beach
I saw from the beach, when the morning was shining,
A bark o'er the waters move gloriously on;
I came when the sun o'er that beach was declining,
The bark was still there, but the waters were gone.
And such is the fate of our life's early promise,
So passing the spring-tide of joy we have known;
Each wave that we danced on at morning ebbs from us,
And leaves us, at eve, on the bleak shore alone.
Oh, who would not welcome that moment's returning
When passion first waked a new life through his frame,
And his soul, like the wood that grows precious in burning,
Gave out all its sweets to love's exquisite flame.
poem by Thomas Moore
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This Mighty Wanderer
Standing on a cliff overlooking the sea
I stare out at the restless waters below,
slowly moving in and out
with each incoming and receding tide.
Like a nomad ever seeking
a new place to rest its head.
Its colours always changing
under the rays of the sun,
wandering restlessly forever
from dawn to dusk,
dusk to dawn
in its never-ending travels
in this worldwide.
This mighty wanderer
only comes to shore
at the incoming tide.
17 September 2008
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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On the Beach
The waves race up the shore,
and then retreat quickly.
It’s hard to tell what they seek
or what they leave behind.
Children paddle at the waters edge
and then scramble to higher ground.
Making believe each in coming wave
is chasing after them.
Seagulls fly overhead,
looking down upon it all,
waiting to swoop down,
should any child let his ice cream fall.
The parents with newspapers sheltering their heads
are so unaware of the dramas played out there,
as children play,
happily on the beach.
(29 May 2007)
poem by David Harris
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Night Song
The moon stretched a long finger
across the calm waters
as they rolled to the shore.
The stars danced on each wave
filling the night with romance.
Couples walked hand in hand
along the sandy shore.
Love twinkled in their eyes
as they left their footprints in the sand.
The nocturnal calls created a rhythm in the air
once the sun had bid its goodbye.
The footprints stopped occasionally
as the lovers arms curled around one another
to capture a nights kiss of bliss
as they stood on the sandy shore,
then moved along enjoying
the romantic night song.
20-21 January 2009
poem by David Harris
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Like the Sea
wave upon wave
i arrive
at the shore of my
being
unconsumed
unfinished
wave upon wave
i lick the
shore
always arriving
at a home
that is never mine
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Stolen Kiss
The waters rippled on an incoming tide
The shimmering finger of the moon
Danced on the small waves
A hiss of rolling stones broke the silence
As waves invaded and retreated on the shore
They walked oblivious to it all
The silent whispers from their eyes
Told the age old story
As they strolled beneath the heavens
With its millions of eyes
No voices broke the stillness
Of their evening bliss
The smiles etched on their faces
Only spoke of a stolen kiss
poem by David Harris
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A Day Out By The Sea
Sitting on a deck chair
on the sand by the sea,
watching castles being built,
with a bucket and spade.
Children dance through each wave
that wanders to the shore.
Seagulls swirl above our heads,
waiting for some morsel to fall.
Babies with coloured hats,
eyes trying to take everything in.
A day at the beach,
a relaxing time for all.
Ice lollies on their sticks,
melting under the sun.
People of all ages race
to the waters edge,
then splash and frolic there,
on a day out by the sea.
11 June 2007
poem by David Harris
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Waves
The ocean waves curl
before rushing up the shore.
Their watery fingers exploring
before retreating back once more.
We stand bare feet in the sand
as each wave encircles our feet
and for a few moments, we feel
the waters felt by millions before.
(11 August 2011)
poem by David Harris
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Still waters erode the shore or Still waters run deep.
On The Bay
I walked beside a bay
taking in everything I saw,
several small boats
nudged at their mooring
with every incoming wave.
Ducks swam around
with their young in tow
watched on by some geese
who had stopped for a break there.
The sun spread a long finger
across every wave
as they rolled slowly to the shore.
As a sense of peace
hung over everything
on the bay.
11 February 2008
poem by David Harris
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Enchant
The waves roll up the shore
across a sandy beach
as couples watch the waters
weave in between their toes.
The moonlight bathes them
as they walk along the shore.
The sun has rested its head
within a glowing sunset
that fired up the evening sky
leaving the moon to enchant
the lovers as they walked by
along the sandy shore,
leaving only their footprints
to be washed away for ever more.
20 November 2008
poem by David Harris
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The Daly River
By those northern river banks,
There in days gone by I wandered,
By clear streaming waters pondered,
Youthful hours were never squandered,
By those sandy verdant flanks.
Saw the rain in torrents falling,
Heard the native dogs there calling,
Saw from sea the rain clouds squalling,
By the Daly river banks.
Born upon a distant range,
All the streams that feed the Daly,
Flowing slow or tumbling gaily,
Come the rains it rises daily,
In a flash the seasons change.
Down the stony gullies creeping,
From the fissured hillside seeping,
Rolling clouds their tears are weeping,
Over all the monsoon's range.
Sheeting over flats and plains,
By the creeks clear waters flowing,
To the raging river going,
As the land the heavens sowing,
Ever heavy fall the rains.
Then at last the gloom is breaking,
Sun asleep in cloud is waking,
Mud upon the flood plains baking,
So at length the wet it wanes.
In its middle reaches flows
Beautiful and clear and gleaming,
By treed sandy banks it's streaming,
With life in its waters teeming,
So it ever onward goes.
Over rocky bar it crashes,
Past the jutting sandbar dashes,
Dancing light in flowing flashes,
Cool but molten - bright it glows.
As the season turns to dry
Slowly flows the Daly river,
Piercing snags in currents quiver,
Sunken trees whose branches shiver,
Where at rest their bodies lie.
There a crocodile is sliding,
Close by muddy bank is hiding,
As the river calmly gliding,
Soft the passing waters sigh.
Soon the river widens more,
There a rolling wave is crashing,
White with foam and spray there splashing,
Sodden banks the torrent lashing,
Upstream runs the tidal bore.
Waters fresh and brackish blending,
Eddies, swirls, and whirlpools rending,
Still the winding river wending,
To the distant ocean shore.
Now the waters grey and wide,
As her heavy heart is flagging,
Wearily her burden dragging,
In her race to broad sea lagging,
Battling the surging tide.
But there spreads the great wide water,
And from there to every quarter,
There's no force on Earth will thwart her,
‘Till whatever fates decide.
poem by Dennis N. O'Brien
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