Wonderful Bath Bubbles
Sitting in a bath tub, filled with bubbles
Soaking and erasing all my troubles
Staying in the water till your skin gets wrinkled
Spraying your hair you are getting sprinkled
The water so warm and so inviting
With candles lit, they're your only lighting
Such a pleasure I have found
Just me splashing, not another sound
So if you need a moment of paradise
Fill your bath with bubbles, I'd advise!
poem by Donna Nimmo
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Having a bath
Lovely bubbles thick and creamy,
Water deep and room all steamy,
World shut out and I'm all dreamy,
Guess what? I'm having a bath.
Door is locked, I'm on my own,
Don't need T.V. or telephone,
I lie there like a block of stone,
I'm happy, having a bath.
Wash my hair and scrub my toes,
Scratch my back and rub my nose,
Think of things that I propose
To do... after my bath.
Then I hear the sound of thunder
As it seems, when my head's under,
It's just a dream, a mental blunder,
I'm only having a bath!
Melting in my bed of blue,
While outside there's a great 'to-do'
The family's queueing for the loo!
... An hour's too long for a bath.
Written Sept 1994
poem by John Carter Brown
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Bath Bliss
Having a bath is so relaxing,
When a day at the office has been so taxing,
We need to ease away our tensions,
Otherwise we may never collect our pensions,
To keep forever on the go,
Rushing to and rushing fro,
Is really just not good for us,
We really must learn to adjust.
Instead of working oneself into a lather,
What are the things that you would rather
Do, that is, if you had the choice,
Be able to get out of that office, and just rejoice?
Look at all the things to do at your leasure,
Lots of things to give you pleasure,
And a hot bath is number one on the list,
One that I don't think you can resist,
It will soothe your worries, soothe your dismay,
Soothe all your aches and pains away,
For the water will do just what it should,
And you know you'll be feeling really good,
You'll no longer need to feel depressed,
You'll be feeling bright eyed and full of zest.
So run the bath, and jump right in,
Fill that bath right up to your chin,
Close your eyes and deeply breathe,
Calm yourself, no need to seethe.
Tip in the bath foam and whisk up the bubbles,
Slowly shake away all those troubles.
So you see, having a bath is so relaxing,
When a day at the office has been so taxing.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Bathing In A Tub
What is cleaner-
Bathing inside a tub
or out of it?
How stupid to ask
such a silly question!
You put turkey in a pan
to cook it over fire
Your potatoes won't bake
but burn if put in fire
Your Bar-B-Q would char
if put in fire
So, what seems good
Is to put things over fire
not in it.
If you bathed in a tub
full of water with sud
your pretty skin will catch
all the germs you dropped
in the dirty bath water
No need to be Japanese
But learn from anybody is good
you don't have to burn your hand
by putting your hand in fire
or for the sake of this topic
in the infested water in the tub
Get going and take a bath
outside the bath tub
when you've cleansed yerself
of all 'pollution'
then only you should sit
pretty in the clean water
of your bath tub
and get healthier and more!
poem by mazHur Butt
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The bathing adventure
Blue and white fishes on a string
hangs on the bathroom wall,
a striped white and blue tiller
stands at the bath’s taps,
a small light tower
is warning on the edge of the bath
and a dark blue anchor,
alone against the wall
entice you to become part
of the bathing adventure
and the tiller man
is still ashore
while the water splashes into the bath.
I wonder why you enjoy it so much
to splash around like a kid
in the soothing hot water
and it’s very nice,
to wash my cares away
in the big bath.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Boiling Water
A serious moment for the water is
when it boils
And though one usually regards it
merely as a convenience
To have the boiling water
available for bath or table
Occasionally there is someone
around who understands
The importance of this moment
for the water—maybe a saint,
Maybe a poet, maybe a crazy
man, or just someone
temporarily disturbed
With his mind 'floating'in a
sense, away from his deepest
Personal concerns to more
'unreal' things...
A serious moment for the island
is when its trees
Begin to give it shade, and
another is when the ocean
washes
Big heavy things against its side.
One walks around and looks at
the island
But not really at it, at what is on
it, and one thinks,
It must be serious, even, to be this
island, at all, here.
Since it is lying here exposed to
the whole sea. All its
Moments might be serious. It is
serious, in such windy weather,
to be a sail
Or an open window, or a feather
flying in the street...
Seriousness, how often I have
thought of seriousness
And how little I have understood
it, except this: serious is urgent
And it has to do with change. You
say to the water,
It's not necessary to boil now,
and you turn it off. It stops
Fidgeting. And starts to cool. You
put your hand in it
And say, The water isn't serious
any more. It has the potential,
However—that urgency to give
off bubbles, to
Change itself to steam. And the
wind,
When it becomes part of a
hurricane, blowing up the
beach
And the sand dunes can't keep it
away.
Fainting is one sign of
seriousness, crying is another.
Shuddering all over is another
one.
A serious moment for the
telephone is when it rings.
And a person answers, it is
Angelica, or is it you.
A serious moment for the fly is
when its wings
Are moving, and a serious
moment for the duck
Is when it swims, when it first
touches water, then spreads
Its smile upon the water...
A serious moment for the match
is when it burst into flame...
Serious for me that I met you, and
serious for you
That you met me, and that we do
not know
If we will ever be close to anyone
again. Serious the recognition
of the probability
That we will, although time
stretches terribly in
between...
poem by Kenneth Koch
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In water tray (dectina refrain)
Look
at the
bird splashing
in the water,
in clear rainwater,
bathing while slapping wings,
chattering telling others
how nice it is to be washing,
inviting them nearer, splashing them wet.
Look at the bird splashing in the water.
poem by Gert Strydom
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i Worship
Everything is transient like waves
Robert Herrick and the daffodils
did vanish like bubbles in the water
Waves pop up and then die
The water remains
The water alone is
The water is vast
The water has no other
So the water also is not there
What is there?
i worship that unknown and unknowable
poem by Dr. Ramesh Chandra Mukhopadhyaya
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Painted Veil
Millions of bubbles; bubbles, bubbles, bubbles.
Who could have thought that so small
could be the curse of all,
and source of all our troubles?
Microscopic seeds
encasing nuclei of fire.
Each germinates and breeds
subtle filaments of desire.
Desire slides in and overpowers,
making our best intentions fail
and weaves the warp and weft of the painted veil
which shrouds this world which is not ours.
Lift it?
It proliferates with every minute.
See?
Our eyes are trapped within it.
The world?
The world's a vast, empty machine
which thunders on,
blunders on,
silent and unseen.
poem by Brian Taylor
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Take a music bath once or twice a week for a few seasons, and you will find that it is to the soul what the water bath is to the body.
quote by Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
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Water of life
Crystal drops falling from the sky
Bringing life to the dry
Growing plants reach for the sky as they start growing on high
It cures your thirst and cleans the dirt
Water does not choose who is rich or poor, hate or love
It comes from the heavens above sent to us from God with love…
Water in a glass, water in your bath, shower, water in the sea, water in a dam, water in a river and even water in a mother’s womb.
The realization that water is important becomes disrespected
Everyone goes on with everyday life while the water is being infected.
Water may bring life but it can also cut through cities and towns like a knife.
Tsunamis, floods it does not choose who to struck but when it comes you know your...
Take a moment and think to yourself
What water means to your health
Say thank you and stand up for what you believe in as this is one of the only sources of life that cannot be taken away.
poem by Reinette J.v Rensburg
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Water Fountain
water flow and spraying
a small pond around
not to deep, not to dirty
the mighty fountain spraying many feet up
children playing in it, screaming and laughing
splashing and dipping, feet wading
cheerful chatter can ways be found
The fountain a magical place for everyone to enjoy
the simple times when we can be free
a quick lunch a simple phone call
a quick pic of the beautiful water fall
Fountains nature's toys for all to enjoy
poem by Michael Peterson
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Bath room song
The girl was
Singing open
Door
Bath room...
Song is
Very nice...
Take the bath
That youg girl
Very pice....
Bath room
For song...
Not for girl...
With out door bath room
Only...
The girl was wonder
Song of body
Singing too bath...
Water was look and feel
Very nice...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Sullied
She plunges into the hot water
and begins to scrub. Brush and
soap on skin. She wants him off
and out of her. Undo him from her.
Unkiss his kisses, untouch his touches.
She breathes in. She reeks, stinks
of him. He seems to have penetrated
every orifice on her body. She pushes
herself under the water, holds herself
there, opens her eyes even the sting
brings no purification. She sits up and
holds the sides of the bath. Calm down
she tells her shaking hands and legs
but they disobey and carry on like
disobedient children in play. She tries
to think of other things. Think of
somewhere nice, some time once
enjoyed, some pleasure once had,
sipping of the best wine, greedy
eating of caviar or grape. But no.
Everything is focused on him and
the rape. She rubs and scrubs until
she's red and raw. Stop stop her
inner voice screams. Nothing is
what it seems. He pushes his way
even into her every thought now.
He seeps into every pore. The water
fails to clean. She sits there naked,
undone, brush in hand, hair in a mess.
This is not real she says, but knows
it is, she in the bath, wet, raw, sore
and sullied. Yes that's a word mother
would have used: sullied. Tainted,
tarnished, degraded or as Mother
would have said: dishonoured. She
focuses on each aspect of her flesh
as if seen for the first time. What
you focus on is your reality. Who said
that? Does it matter now? Dostoevsky?
The Idiot, that book. Who cares who
said what. The water is no longer hot.
He is still on skin and in orifice in spite
of the rubs and scrubs and tears and curses.
No longer the innocent, no more the
sipping of wine or eating of grape.
Just him and memory of the rape.
poem by Terry Collett
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Water and Me
swimming is the like the moon and the sun for me
the water's smooth fingers of bubbles dance on my summer tanned skin
the slashes of the water ring in my ear
the smell of chlorine awakens my soul
the water likes like a newly ice covered pound in the harsh winter weather but can quickly change with one move creating a wave of life braking all peace
the blue color so strong that no one can brake it's bond of beauty
so powerful it can eat though rock and tackle you with one wave but soft enough to wash a new born’s skin to a shin
my body cuts though the water like knife on ripe fruit
the main part of life
we live on the water and water lives in us
swimming for me is like the sun and the moon
By Molly Breadcrumb
poem by Molly Breadcrumb
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Hold Hands and Blow Bubbles
Tomorrow I will wake to see you lying next to me and I will watch you sleep.
I will gently touch your face to wake you and cover you with kisses.
Tomorrow will be the first time we truly get to spend time alone together.
We can stay in bed as long as we want and watch the birds outside eat and play.
Tomorrow we will go for a walk in the park, hold hands and blow bubbles.
We will wash the car in the driveway and end up covered in soap and water.
Tomorrow you will hide the remote while I make your morning coffee.
We will make a dozen sack lunches and go down town and hand them out.
Tomorrow we will kiss every time one of us says ‘Um'.
We will have pie for lunch and skip dessert.
Tomorrow in the morning we will tell every person we meet what the current time is, in Afghanistan.
In the evening we will thank everyone we meet.
Tomorrow we will save water and take a bath together, with extra bubbles, planes and boats.
We will lie on a blanket and stare at the stars and tell one another stories.
Tomorrow night we will thumb wrestle to see who will be the outside spoon.
I will whisper in your ear, kiss your neck and caress you until you fall sleep.
Tomorrow night while you dream I will whisper all of my plans, desires and secrets to you while you sleep.
It be the first of the greatest days of our lives.
Today, I will search for you.
poem by Ronald Ragan
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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.
Raining, Raning...
It was raining, raning,
Non stop, blub blub, blub
It dropped on the shallow
Sheet of water flowing,
Making bubbles that burst
In merriment to the drops,
Childhood dawned
In the mind, when I made
Small paper boats
In the flowing water
Akin to the ship in seas,
The rain came down
In beautful shower as if
Sent down from the heavens,
Pure water droplets,
To cool the polluted earth,
Wash away all the wastes
Sins of our making,
Cars, scooters, splashing
The water sheets,
In a beautiful rythm,
To drench the passersby
Who went by under colourful
Umbrellas, like in a parade,
Raining, raining here,
Is oft the most beautiful sight.
poem by Ravikiran Arakkal
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Nasty Sumel
sumele
on bath room...
with out
bath room
taken bath...
in paid bath room
also in india
nasty sumel...
free...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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‘You Rise the Water Unfolds’
You rise the water unfolds
You sleep the water flowers
You are water ploughed from its depths
You are earth that takes root
And in which all is grounded
You make bubbles of silence in the desert of sound
You sing nocturnal hymns on the arcs of the rainbow
You are everywhere you abolish the roads
You sacrifice time
To the eternal youth of an exact flame
That veils Nature to reproduce her
Woman you show the world a body forever the same
Yours
You are its likeness.
poem by Paul Eluard
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