The waterfall
Carved between two forests
scented with pine and peat,
crystal cold water rushes
across a mountain shelf
over 200 ft deep.
Splashing,
tangling
in tremendous motion
roaring like the raging tide
over flint grey rock it tumbles
thundering downward
running wild
spraying
sparkling
silver
out into the air.
Filling it
full of misty mornings
smelling of pine damp grass.
Leaving a lingering
taste of
iced spring pearls
served in rock crystal glass.
poem by Diana Rosser
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Related quotes
By The Rosanna--To F.M. Stanzer Thal, Tyrol
The old grey Alp has caught the cloud,
And the torrent river sings aloud;
The glacier-green Rosanna sings
An organ song of its upper springs.
Foaming under the tiers of pine,
I see it dash down the dark ravine,
And it tumbles the rocks in boisterous play,
With an earnest will to find its way.
Sharp it throws out an emerald shoulder,
And, thundering ever of the mountain,
Slaps in sport some giant boulder,
And tops it in a silver fountain.
A chain of foam from end to end,
And a solitude so deep, my friend,
You may forget that man abides
Beyond the great mute mountain-sides.
Yet to me, in this high-walled solitude
Of river and rock and forest rude,
The roaring voice through the long white chain
Is the voice of the world of bubble and brain.
poem by George Meredith
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Litany
You are the bread and the knife,
The crystal goblet and the wine...
-Jacques Crickillon
You are the bread and the knife,
the crystal goblet and the wine.
You are the dew on the morning grass
and the burning wheel of the sun.
You are the white apron of the baker,
and the marsh birds suddenly in flight.
However, you are not the wind in the orchard,
the plums on the counter,
or the house of cards.
And you are certainly not the pine-scented air.
There is just no way that you are the pine-scented air.
It is possible that you are the fish under the bridge,
maybe even the pigeon on the general's head,
but you are not even close
to being the field of cornflowers at dusk.
And a quick look in the mirror will show
that you are neither the boots in the corner
nor the boat asleep in its boathouse.
It might interest you to know,
speaking of the plentiful imagery of the world,
that I am the sound of rain on the roof.
I also happen to be the shooting star,
the evening paper blowing down an alley
and the basket of chestnuts on the kitchen table.
I am also the moon in the trees
and the blind woman's tea cup.
But don't worry, I'm not the bread and the knife.
You are still the bread and the knife.
You will always be the bread and the knife,
not to mention the crystal goblet and--somehow--the wine.
poem by Billy Collins
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Litany
You are the bread and the knife,
The crystal goblet and the wine...
-Jacques Crickillon
You are the bread and the knife,
the crystal goblet and the wine.
You are the dew on the morning grass
and the burning wheel of the sun.
You are the white apron of the baker,
and the marsh birds suddenly in flight.
However, you are not the wind in the orchard,
the plums on the counter,
or the house of cards.
And you are certainly not the pine-scented air.
There is just no way that you are the pine-scented air.
It is possible that you are the fish under the bridge,
maybe even the pigeon on the general's head,
but you are not even close
to being the field of cornflowers at dusk.
And a quick look in the mirror will show
that you are neither the boots in the corner
nor the boat asleep in its boathouse.
It might interest you to know,
speaking of the plentiful imagery of the world,
that I am the sound of rain on the roof.
I also happen to be the shooting star,
the evening paper blowing down an alley
and the basket of chestnuts on the kitchen table.
I am also the moon in the trees
and the blind woman's tea cup.
But don't worry, I'm not the bread and the knife.
You are still the bread and the knife.
You will always be the bread and the knife,
not to mention the crystal goblet and--somehow--the wine.
Anonymous submission.
poem by William Taylor Collins
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Smokey Mountain Boy
(words & music by rosenblatt - milrose)
Im just a smokey mountain boy
Come back to the hills I love
Where the tops of pine all bend in the wind
And the deep blue sky above
The closer and closer I get to home
The more excited I am
Those were the mornings Id roll out of bed
Start the day off with a hot corn bread
Smothered in huckleberry jam
Im just a smokey mountain boy
Come back to the hills I love
Where the tops of pine all bend in the wind
And the deep blue sky above
I can almost hear the hounds running through the woods
Close on the trail of the hare
How I long to be with them following the hounds
A-huntin again
Gettin me a big old grizzly bear
Im just a smokey mountain boy
Come back to the hills I love
Where the tops of pine all bend in the wind
And the deep blue sky above
I traveled around and met lots of girls
No matter how many I see
I left some pretty ones behind
I know back home is where Ill find
The girl whose love is meant for me
Im just a smokey mountain boy
Come back to the hills I love
Where the tops of pine all bend in the wind
And the deep blue sky above
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Upon The Flint In The Water
This flint, time out of mind, has there abode,
Where crystal streams make their continual road.
Yet it abides a flint as much as 'twere
Before it touched the water, or came there
Its hard obdurateness is not abated,
'Tis not at all by water penetrated.
Though water hath a soft'ning virtue in't,
This stone it can't dissolve, for 'tis a flint.
Yea, though it in the water doth remain,
It doth its fiery nature still retain.
If you oppose it with its opposite,
At you, yea, in your face, its fire 'twill spit.
Comparison.
This flint an emblem is of those that lie,
Like stones, under the Word, until they die.
Its crystal streams have not their nature changed,
They are not, from their lusts, by grace estranged.
poem by John Bunyan
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Crystal Clear
How do you feel now? I want to know
Clear as crystal, I can see your face
In my glass of water, I can see your face
How do you feel know? I want to know
Does your love burn like a summer's day
Or is it still on hold in an ice cube tray?
Clear as crystal
How do you feel now? I want to know
Clear as crystal, I can see your face
In my glass of water? I can see your face
Winter has passed now, did you ever know?
Is your love forming like the springtime
Or is it still a snowdrop in the snow so fine?
Clear as crystal
Clear as crystal, I can see your face
In a glass of water, you can see your face
How do you feel know, I want to know
Now I can see you so crystal clear
Crystal clear
song performed by by X-Ray Spex
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Never Know Why
If were offensive and pose a threat
You fear what we represent is a mess
Youve missed the message that says it all
And youll never know why
Oh no youll never know why
We rock
Its just a feeling how we excite
You cannot rule everybody in sight
But you condemn dont understand
And youll never know why
Oh no youll never know why
We rock rock rock
We rock rock rock
We rock rock rock
Youll never know why
We rock
I leave you cold and in disgust
Dont try to tame me youll eat my dust
I know that you know not what you do
Thats why youll never know why
Oh no youll never know why
We rock rock rock
We rock rock rock
We rock rock rock
Youll never know why
We rock rock rock
We rock rock rock
We rock rock rock
Youll never know why
We rock
song performed by by Ozzy Osbourne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nature's Child...
She loves to tread the solitudes,
The forests and the trackless woods,
Where nature, undisturbed by man,
Pursues her voluntary plan.
Where nature's chemistry distills
The fountains and the laughing birds,
She loves to quaff her sparkling wine,
And breathe the fragrance of the pine.
She loves to dash the crystal dews
From floral shapes of varied hues,
And interweave the modest white
Of plants in spurred garlands bright.
She loves to lie within the shade,
On grassy couch, by nature made,
And listen to the warbling notes
From her fair songsters' feathered throats.
And freed from artificial wants,
She loves to dwell in nature's haunts,
And by the mountain's crystal lake
A rustic habitation make.
She loves to scale the mountain height
And watch the eagle in his flight,
Or gaze upon the azure sea
Of aerial immensity.
She loves the busy marts of trade,
She loves the things which men have made,
Though man has charms, none such as these,
In her the child of nature sees.
poem by Rey Sanidad
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Monuments
Crystal the desert
Sands sifted in dry air
Sun flecked sparkling.
Wind plays out,
Whistling, weathering rock
Sculpting.
Sand blasts in desert storms.
Fine glass moulds, shapes,
Caresses, smooths.
Forged in the heat of the desert days
Cold of its night.
Making monuments to natures art.
Towers of pink and yellow
Watch over rock strewn plains
Waterless river beds
In silent serenity.
Copyright P H Brookes 2012
poem by Paul Brookes
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Mystery Mountain
Mountain of mystery,
Rising high above the clouds.
Mountain of magic,
Standing tall and proud,
Your magical veins
Flowing silver and gold,
Your cumulus cloud glows misty red,
As apollo sets beyond your head.
Releasing the pressure built over the years
The mountain is crying hot lava tears
Molten rock created under vibrations of
Sub-terranean thunder
Ejecting boulders like pieces of sand
The mountain is
Giving birth to the land.
Under your feet you feel a rumble
As thousands of rocks are starting to tumble
Above the trees where the buzzard flies
Swirling vapors begin to rise
Beneath those misty peaks you hide
A tremendous force boiling deep inside.
song performed by by Journey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Bath Of Love
Like freshly mown hay
Was smelling your skin,
Like grass waiting to be mown
And like cuneiform signs
Freshly carved in stone.
Your lips had the taste of the wind.
The words coming out of us were still unbroken,
They were bumping into each other
Like those clouds full of rain.
I kissed your arch, your bone, your mouth
And your sigh
From the eyes to the foot's sole.
We were in a bath of love
Like two children
In a water trough.
I felt my milk springing out
Of my breasts.
We were like the sun and the month
Fallen to the earth
In a world of ignorance.
You slipped inside of me
Like a water flowing
Among the rough stones
Or like the honey
In a broken hive.
Your taste was like honey
And the smell of your skin
Was like freshly mown grass.
Your crystal slip was curved.
I felt my soul like a stone
As someone was painfully digging in it
Cuneiform signs.
I started to scream your name.
Yes, your name was inferred from happiness.
I began to scream his name.
He came into being
From your name
He started to be existent inside of us.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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In A Northern Wood
FRAGRANT are the cedar-boughs stretching green and level,
Feasting-halls where waxwings flit at their spicy revel,
But O the pine, the questing pine, that flings its arms on high
To search the secret of the sun and escalade the sky!
Rueful hemlocks, gaunt and old, with boughs a-droop, despairing,
Clutch for touch of mother-earth; the while the pine is daring
To rock the stars amid its cones and lull them with its croon,
And snare the silver eagle that is nested in the moon.
poem by Katharine Lee Bates
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Grey
Grey road stretched through grey rain.
Grey rain fell though grey mist.
Grey mist enveloped all,
all the eye could see,
all the land,
all the sky
and me.
Grey covered all,
all the way down to the sea.
Glimpsed through grey the swell of the ocean,
riding the waves a wind surfer surfing,
chopping, fighting the crests with swift motion
skirting the spray, sail unfurling.
Stopping, I stared at that sight in the mist,
oh how he came dancing over the sea,
right through the rain a state of sheer bliss,
the wondrous frolic rippling throughout me
making me tingle right down deep inside.
That misty image ripped all grey apart
a glorious vision of freedom untied,
returning tremendous joy to my heart
filling me up, bringing tears to my eyes,
emerging from grey a great love of life.
poem by Diana Rosser
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Rock Me On The Water
Oh people, look around you
The signs are everywhere
Youve left it for somebody other than you
To be the one to care
Youre lost inside your houses
Theres no time to find you now
Your walls are burning and your towers are turning
Im going to leave you here and try to get down to the sea somehow
The road is filled with homeless souls
Every woman, child and man
Who have no idea where they will go
But theyll help you if they can
Now everyone must have some thought
Thats going to pull them through somehow
Well the fires are raging hotter and hotter
But the sisters of the sun are going to rock me on the water now
Rock me on the water
Sister will you soothe my fevered brow
Rock me on the water
Ill get down to the sea somehow
Oh people, look among you
Its there your hope must lie
Theres a sea bird above you
Gliding in one place like jesus in the sky
We all must do the best we can
And then hang on to that gospel plow
When my life is over, Im going to stand before the father
But the sisters of the sun are going to rock me on the water now
Rock me on the water
Sister will you soothe my fevered brow
Rock me on the water, maybe Ill remember
Maybe Ill remember how
Rock me on the water
The wind is with me now
So rock me on the water
Ill get down to the sea somehow
song performed by by Jackson Browne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rock Me On The Water
Oh people
Look around you
The signs are everywhere
Youve left it for somebody other than you
To be the one to care
Youre lost inside your houses
And theres no time to find you now
Well your walls are turning
Your towers are burning
Gonna leave you here
And try to get down to the sea somehow
The road is filled with homeless souls
Every woman child and man
Who have no idea where they will go
But theyll help you if they can
But everyone must have some thought
Thats gonna pull them through somehow
While the fires are raging hotter and hotter
The sisters of the sun are gonna
Rock me on the water now
Rock me on the water
Sister will you soothe my fevered brow
Rock me on the water
Ill get down the sea somehow
Oh people
Look among you
Its there your hope must lie
Theres a seabird above you
Gliding in one place
Like jesus in the sky
We all must do the best we can
And then hang on the that gospel plow
When my life is over
Gonna stand before the father
And the sisters of the sun are gonna
Rock me on the water now
Rock me on the water
Sister will you soothe my fevered brow
Rock me on the water
Maybe Ill remember
Maybe Ill remember how
Rock me on the water
I said the wind is with me now
So rock me on the water
Ill get down the sea somehow
Rock me on the water
Sister will you soothe my fevered brow
Rock me on the water
Ill get down the sea somehow
song performed by by Indigo Girls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Exile
These hills are sandy. Trees are dwarfed here. Crows
Caw dismally in skies of an arid brilliance,
Complain in dusty pine-trees. Yellow daybreak
Lights on the long brown slopes a frost-like dew,
Dew as heavy as rain; the rabbit tracks
Show sharply in it, as they might in snow.
But it’s soon gone in the sun — what good does it do?
The houses, on the slope, or among brown trees,
Are grey and shrivelled. And the men who live here
Are small and withered, spider-like, with large eyes.
Bring water with you if you come to live here —
Cold tinkling cisterns, or else wells so deep
That one looks down to Ganges or Himalayas.
Yes, and bring mountains with you, white, moon-bearing,
Mountains of ice. You will have need of these
Profundities and peaks of wet and cold.
Bring also, in a cage of wire or osier,
Birds of a golden colour, who will sing
Of leaves that do not wither, watery fruits
That heavily hang on long melodious boughs
In the blue-silver forests of deep valleys.
I have now been here — how many years? Years unnumbered.
My hands grow clawlike. My eyes are large and starved.
I brought no bird with me, I have no cistern
Where I might find the moon, or river, or snow.
Some day, for lack of these, I’ll spin a web
Between two dusty pine-tree tops, and hang there
Face downward, like a spider, blown as lightly
As ghost of leaf. Crows will caw about me.
Morning and evening I shall drink the dew.
poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
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Swirls of antique stained glass, blazes of brass, forests of carved wood and waterfalls of crystal combine to make up the city's most fabulously festive interior.
quote by Mimi Sheraton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Spring Torrents
Will it always be like this until I am dead,
Every spring must I bear it all again
With the first red haze of the budding maple boughs,
And the first sweet-smelling rain?
Oh I am like a rock in the rising river
Where the flooded water breaks with a low call --
Like a rock that knows the cry of the waters
And cannot answer at all.
poem by Sara Teasdale
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The Sullen Tide Rush
A sullen tide
rushed upon thy rock-happiness
looking at him
staring
running, hiding
I want his head
regained trust as a pond after a rainstorm
a sullen tide
rust again
Sullen Tide rushes,
soaked rocked-happiness
He came up
without me knowing
I surprised
He asked if I was doing fine
I responded better
I forgot
he reopened scar
Sullen Tide rushes,
soaked rocked-happiness
LET IT OUT!
HATRED
GLOOM KNOCKS ME OUT!
HATRED OVERCOMES
crying, hating,
in a kingdom of Tumult
Cut, cut, cut into pieces
caught in a sullen tide
Hatred overcomes once again
Like a rush of sullen tide
A sullen tide rushes upon thy rocked-happiness
poem by Alexandros Sandoval
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Down below the broad, roaring waves of the sea break against the deep foundation of the rock. But high above the mountain, the sea, and the peaks of rock the eternal ornamentation blooms silently from the dark depths of the universe.
quote by Rudolf Otto
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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