Floods
In the dark night, from sweet refreshing sleep
I wake to hear outside my window-pane
The uncurbed fury of the wild spring rain,
And weird winds lashing the defiant deep,
And roar of floods that gather strength and leap
Down dizzy, wreck-strewn channels to the main.
I turn upon my pillow and again
Compose myself for slumber.
Let them sweep;
I once survived great floods, and do not fear,
Though ominous planets congregate, and seem
To foretell strange disasters.
From a dream—
Ah! dear God! such a dream!—I woke to hear,
Through the dense shadows lit by no star's gleam,
The rush of mighty waters on my ear.
Helpless, afraid, and all alone, I lay;
The floods had come upon me unaware.
I heard the crash of structures that were fair;
The bridges of fond hopes were swept away
By great salt waves of sorrow. In dismay
I saw by the red lightning's lurid glare
That on the rock-bound island of despair
I had been cast. Till the dim dawn of day
I heard my castles falling, and the roll
Of angry billows bearing to the sea
The broken timbers of my very soul.
Were all the pent-up waters from the whole
Stupendous solar system to break free,
There are no floods that now can frighten me.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Related quotes
And The Rains Descended And The Floods Came
NOW the far waves roll nearer and more near,
The wind's awake, the pitiless wind's awake,
It shrieks the menace that I dare not hear,
Soon at my feet the angry waves will break
In desolating wrath--and here I stand
Helpless my house is built upon the sand.
O you, whose house upon a rock is set,
Laugh, safe and sure, at threatening wave and wind.
You chose the better part and yet--and yet,
There was no other ground that I could find,
And I was weary and I longed to raise
A house to guard my shivering nights and days.
And it was pleasant in the house I made,
While still the floods and winds were held asleep.
I blessed it at the dawn, at night I prayed
As though its dear foundations had been deep
Sunk in the rock. I whispered in surmise,
'What if winds never wake, floods never rise?'
And now the waves are near and very near,
And here I wait and wonder which may be
The wave in which my house will disappear,
My little house that loved and sheltered me,
Where joy still sings, her garland in her hand,
Built on the sand, oh God, built on the sand!
poem by Edith Nesbit
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The Sea Of Ecstasy Has Ebbed And Gone, Dear Friend
The sea of ecstasy has ebbed and gone, dear friend
The ocean of sorrow floods and overwhelms.
How shall we, the weak survive, now that you have forsaken us?
The sea of ecstasy has ebbed and gone, dear friend
The ocean of sorrow floods and overwhelms.
Friend now that he has left nothing remains; he has taken everything.
The sea of ecstasy has ebbed and gone, dear friend
The ocean of sorrow floods and overwhelms.
We didn't hold out our palav in complete surrender then,
Now what is the point of rubbing our hands in vain?
The sea of ecstasy has ebbed and gone, dear friend
The ocean of sorrow floods and overwhelms.
He knows not our pains, and he has broken all the bonds of childhood love,
He has broken all the bonds of affection; Hari-O that dandy has betrayed us!
The sea of ecstasy has ebbed and gone, dear friend
The ocean of sorrow floods and overwhelms.
You can explain things to a stupid man,
But how can you deal with the experienced ones, my love?
Separated from you I roam aimlessly, O Trikramji!
Don't abandon us like this!
The sea of ecstasy has ebbed and gone, dear friend
The ocean of sorrow floods and overwhelms.
Gopis have become mad for Govind, ` Do return home O beloved of Laxmi! '
What shall I say, dear friend, to Narsaiyya's Lord?
Only that, please understand the plight of your lovers!
The sea of ecstasy has ebbed and gone, dear friend
The ocean of sorrow floods and overwhelms.
poem by Narsinh Mehta
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Rivers
In dreams we see the magical flight,
Of crystal waves flying free,
To where the glass of waters meet,
Cruise in a dream upon the sea.
Darkness split the billowing floods,
Flung out brooks into mighty rivers,
To wash the steps down the slopes,
Into slippery streams of tributaries.
Rivers of water run down our eyes,
And let fountain disperse into tears,
In search we find the painful wishes,
Define the sum of all our fears.
The rush of tears we cannot control,
Memories enter the draining basin,
Sorrows like rivers meanders in our soul,
Feelings poured into floodplain.
We heard their voices from the deep,
Soul of our soul where we cannot reach,
The cry which leaves the darken void asleep,
In lonely shadow seen on the beach.
Together we stand, amidst the defiant roar,
And souls that lie at ease deep beneath,
Sleep in tragic tombs amidst the surfing water,
And spirits sail on to the safest harbour.
poem by Gerry Legister
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The deluge
The crust of the world breaks open
and water gushes up
from below,
while heavy continual rain
pours down from above.
Lightning bolts roar menacing
flashing white blue
against a clouded black sky
and the sun is blocked off
and it’s like night.
The ark rises on water
which floods universally
causing havoc and catastrophe
and in tremendous winds
Noah steers the ship
to ride gigantic waves.
His massive arms
is rock solid on the wheel
while huge waves break
splashing him soaking wet
and the chill creeps in
right through to his bones,
but the biggest chill
is in his heart of humanity,
while he watches the rest
birds and animals die
and dead bodies drift
as far as his eyes can see.
Solid rain pours down for forty days
without end, winds howl in great intensity
and waves break and rock the ship
uncaring for its destiny
and it’s as if every lightning bolt
finds the ship
as the only thing available to bash down on.
Days and nights he watches
dark green water rising,
rushing, crushing and coiling out
and in the dark the wake at the stern
gleams white.
[Reference: Genesis 6-8.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Rising Of The Storm
THE lake's dark breast
Is all unrest,
It heaves with a sob and a sigh.
Like a tremulous bird,
From its slumber stirred,
The moon is a-tilt in the sky.
From the silent deep
The waters sweep,
But faint on the cold white stones,
And the wavelets fly
With a plaintive cry
O'er the old earth's bare, bleak bones.
And the spray upsprings
On its ghost-white wings,
And tosses a kiss at the stars;
While a water-sprite,
In sea-pearls dight,
Hums a sea-hymn's solemn bars.
Far out in the night,
On the wavering sight
I see a dark hull loom;
And its light on high,
Like a Cyclops' eye,
Shines out through the mist and gloom.
Now the winds well up
From the earth's deep cup,
And fall on the sea and shore,
And against the pier
The waters rear
And break with a sullen roar.
Up comes the gale,
And the mist-wrought veil
Gives way to the lightning's glare,
And the cloud-drifts fall,
A sombre pall,
O'er water, earth, and air.
The storm-king flies,
His whip he plies,
And bellows down the wind.
The lightning rash
With blinding flash
Comes pricking on behind.
Rise, waters, rise,
And taunt the skies
With your swift-flitting form.
Sweep, wild winds, sweep,
And tear the deep
To atoms in the storm.
And the waters leapt,
And the wild winds swept,
And blew out the moon in the sky,
And I laughed with glee,
It was joy to me
As the storm went raging by!
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Wherefore
Wherefore in dreams are sorrows born anew,
A healed wound opened, or the past revived?
Last night in my deep sleep I dreamed of you –
Again the old love woke in me, and thrived
On looks of fire, and kisses, and sweet words
Like silver waters purling in a stream,
Or like the amorous melodies of birds:
A dream – a dream.
Again upon the glory of the scene
There settled that dread shadow of the cross
That, when hearts love too well, falls in between –
That warns them of impending woe and loss.
Again I saw you drifting from my life,
As barques are rudely parted in a stream;
Again my heart was torn with awful strife:
A dream –a dream.
Again the deep night settled on me there,
Alone I groped, and heard strange waters roll.
Lost in that blackness of supreme despair
That comes but once to any living soul.
Alone, afraid, I called your name aloud –
Mine eyes, unveiled, beheld white stars agleam,
And lo! awake, I cried, “Thank God, thank God,
A dream –a dream.”
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Lynton Verses
Sweet breeze that sett'st the summer birds a swaying,
Dear lambs amid the primrose meadows playing
Let me not think!
O floods, upon whose brink
The merry birds are maying,
Dream, softly dream! O blessed mother lead me
Unsevered from thy girdle — lead me! feed me!
I have no will but shine;
I need not but the juice
Of elemental wine—
Perish remoter use
Of strength reserved for conflict yet to come!
Let me be dumb,
As long as I may feel thy hand—
This, this is all—do ye not understand
How the great Mother mixes all our bloods ?
O breeze! O swaying buds!
O lambs, O primroses, O floods!
poem by Thomas Edward Brown
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Olney Hymn 37: Temptation
The billows swell, the winds are high,
Clouds overcast my wintry sky;
Out of the depths to Thee I call, -
My fears are great, my strength is small.
O Lord, the pilot's part perform,
And guard and guide me through the storm;
Defend me from each threatening ill,
Control the waves, - say, 'Peace! be still.'
Amidst the roaring of the sea
My soul still hangs her hope on Thee;
Thy constant love, thy faithful care,
Is all that saves me from despair.
Dangers of every shape and name
Attend the followers of the Lamb,
Who leave the world's deceitful shore,
And leave it to return no more.
Though tempest-toss'd and half a wreck,
My Saviour through the floods I seek;
Let neither winds nor stormy main
Force back my shatter'd bark again.
poem by William Cowper
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Afraid To Sleep
The night is still the wind is chilled
I hear the rain falling on my window pane
Cant close my eyes, afraid to sleep
Cause when I do I would only dream of you
Im trying to forget that we ever met
But how can I forget and dream of you?
Afraid to sleep because Id dream of you
Afraid to sleep because Id wake up feeling blue
If I stay awake forever,wed never be together
So Ill close my eyes and go ahead and dream
Sweet dreams
Sweet dreams
Sweer dreams....
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Temptation
The billows swell, the winds are high,
Clouds overcast my wintry sky;
Out of the depths to Thee I call, --
My fears are great, my strength is small.
O Lord, the pilot's part perform,
And guard and guide me through the storm;
Defend me from each threatening ill,
Control the waves, -- say, "Peace! be still."
Amidst the roaring of the sea
My soul still hangs her hope on Thee;
Thy constant love, thy faithful care,
Is all that saves me from despair.
Dangers of every shape and name
Attend the followers of the Lamb,
Who leave the world's deceitful shore,
And leave it to return no more.
Though tempest-toss'd and half a wreck,
My Saviour through the floods I seek;
Let neither winds nor stormy main
Force back my shatter'd bark again.
poem by William Cowper
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Danger Threatens,
Danger threatens.
The thunder grumbles distantly.
A storm is brewing in the hills
The rain that’s falling heavily
Will fill the streamlets and the rills
Which they in turn increase the flow
of the rivers far below
In surging torrents which increase
in power and disturb the peace.
Of riverside communities
Who fear the probabilities?
that the sudden flash floods may bring.
Oblivious to everything
Except their wild rush to the sea.
The sounds of thunder fade and die.
We see again a clear blue sky.
We can relax the worst has passed
Although the rivers still flow fast.
They’ve stayed within their boundaries.
Unlike the flash floods of the past.
Which devastated properties.
And forced inhabitants to flee.
To seek safety on higher ground.
When thunder grumbles distantly.
We see it as a warning sound.
We’ve learnt from past experience.
We can remember vividly.
What the wild waters running free.
Can do and have done previously.
Wednesday,04 January 2012
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Matins
Gray earth, gray mist, gray sky:
Through vapors hurrying by,
Larger than wont, on high
Floats the horned, yellow moon.
Chill airs are faintly stirred,
And far away is heard,
Of some fresh-awakened bird,
The querulous, shrill tune.
The dark mist hides the face
Of the dim land: no trace
Of rock or river's place
In the thick air is drawn;
But dripping grass smells sweet,
And rustling branches meet,
And sounding water greet
The slow, sure, sacred dawn.
Past is the long black night,
With its keen lightnings white,
Thunder and floods: new light
The glimmering low east streaks.
The dense clouds part: between
Their jagged rents are seen
Pale reaches blue and green,
As the mirk curtain breaks.
Above the shadowy world,
Still more and more unfurled,
The gathered mists upcurled
Like phantoms melt and pass.
In clear-obscure revealed,
Brown wood, gray stream, dark field:
Fresh, healthy odors yield
Wet furrows, flowers, and grass.
The sudden, splendid gleam
Of one thin, golden beam
Shoots from the feathered rim
Of yon hill crowned with woods.
Down its embowered side,
As living waters slide,
So the great morning tide
Follows in sunny floods.
From bush and hedge and tree
Joy, unrestrained and free,
Breaks forth in melody,
Twitter and chirp and song:
Alive the festal air
With gauze-winged creatures fair,
That flicker everywhere,
Dart, poise, and flash along.
The shining mists are gone,
Slight films of gold swift-blown
Before the strong, bright sun
Or the deep-colored sky:
A world of life and glow
Sparkles and basks below,
Where the soft meads a-row,
Hoary with dew-fall, lie.
Does not the morn break thus,
Swift, bright, victorious,
With new skies cleared for us,
Over the soul storm-tost?
Her night was long and deep,
Strange visions vexed her sleep,
Strange sorrows bade her weep:
Her faith in dawn was lost.
No halt, no rest for her,
The immortal wanderer
From sphere to higher sphere,
Toward the pure source of day.
The new light shames her fears,
Her faithlessness, her tears,
As the new sun appears
To light her godlike way.
poem by Emma Lazarus
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You Girl Please (comfort me)
Moonlight pressed upon my pillow
I woke up to find myself alone
I lay down and tried to sleep
But I can’t sleep when I’m alone
You girl please, give me peace
Come and share the night with me
You girl please, comfort me
Truth in love is all I seek
Outside the wind beat loudly
On an aging window pane
Six eight time, a waltz in a heartbeat
Seeing god in each dropp of rain
You girl please, give me peace
Come and share the night with me
You girl please, comfort me
Help me in loves sweet release
break
Silent thunder, creaking floor boards
Caught and echo behind these walls
The stroke of midnight starts a new day
Lonely darkness floods throughout these halls
You girl please, give me peace
Come and spend the night with me
You girl please, comfort me
Your tender loving, share with me
Lightning’s lash rips apart the night sky
Window leaks like a face it cries
Tormenting breeze blows through the curtain
What’s this emptiness you left inside
You girl please, give me peace
Come and share the night with me
You girl please, comfort me
Your wild loving spend with me
Copyright Colin Coplin 1988 (updated 2010)
poem by Colin Coplin
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There Is No Going Back
the boats were already burned
the bridges all cut
the river floods and so we all go
to where we shall
end,
there is no turning back
there is nothing in there
not even a memory
of throats,
there was only the thin slice
of bitter taste
there is no you and me
we were all
like salt dissolved in the
blandness of
our own waters.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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She Sleeps
Let the rain fall
And the noise of it on the rooftops be heard
Let it come with the wind, let the wind blow swiftly
And let the trees cry ‘cos they're grieved by it
Let the breeze fill the chambers
And the cold embrace me; let it dry away my tears
Let me quake and not sleep
Let the mighty dark clouds assemble
And let fear fill the earth
Let the moon be darkened
And the stars be hidden; let them not shine
Let the sea be filled and let it run over its walls
Let the mighty waves roar as the waters be glad
Let the dreadful thunders be heard
And the lightening be heard from the east
Let the owls not fly
And the lionesses sleep by their cubes
Let them be still, for a mighty star is fallen
Fallen to rise no more
I see her, yet she sees me not
Quiet and dreamless; till the sun shall rise no more!
To Grandma, always with love!
poem by Nicholas Boateng
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Ye Mariners of England
Ye Mariners of England,
That guard our native seas,
Whose flag has braved a thousand years
The battle and the breeze,
Your glorious standard launch again
To match another foe,
And sweep through the deep,
While the stormy winds do blow!
While the battle rages loud and long,
And the stormy winds do blow!
The spirits of your fathers
Shall start from every wave,
For the deck it was their field of fame,
And Ocean was their grave.
Where Blake and mighty Nelson fell
Your manly hearts shall glow,
As ye sweep through the deep,
While the stormy winds do blow!
While the battle rages loud and long,
And the stormy winds do blow!
Britannia needs no bulwarks,
No towers along the steep:
Her march is o'er the mountain-waves,
Her home is on the deep.
With thunders from her native oak
She quells the floods below
As they roar on the shore,
When the stormy winds do blow!
When the battle rages loud and long,
And the stormy winds do blow!
The meteor flag of England
Shall yet terrific burn,
Till danger's troubled night depart,
And the star of peace return.
Then, then, ye ocean warriors,
Our song and feast shall flow
To the fame of your name,
When the storm has ceased to blow!
When the fiery fight is heard no more,
And the storm has ceased to blow.
poem by Thomas Campbell
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Wake Up Screaming
(jim lauderdale/john leventhal)
Used to sleep through the night peacefully
Not a care in the world got to me
But now I lay me down to sleep
Im afraid of what I might see
I wake up screamin' when your dream goes by
Used to feel like a man in control
Unaware of the storm in my soul
The sight of you took away my breath
I wake up screamin' when your dream goes by
Now in this dream Im in a room
All dressed up just like a groom
Watchin' shadows dance in the ledge
Suddenly you then appear you whisper in my hear
And I jump right over the edge
Just a dream that I seem to recall
Cant you tell me which doctor to call
Tell him please Im not feelin too well
Everynight Im hearin' wedding bells
I wake up screamin' when your dream goes by
I lay there in an ice cold sweat
Sheets are torn and theyre soakin' wet
I wake up screamin' when your dream goes by
I wake up screamin' when your dream goes by
I wake up screamin' when your dream goes by
song performed by by Gary Allan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lines
I hied me to the ocean-side;
Its waves rolled bright and high;
Upon its waters, spreading wide,
I gazed with beaming eye.
At last, at last, I said, is found
A charm to banish pain,--
Here, where the sprightly billows bound
Athwart the heaving main.
The pebbly beach I wandered o'er
At morn and evening's hour,
Or listening to the breakers' roar,
Or wondering at their power.
Beneath their din I madly sought,
With ev'ry nerve bestirred,
To drown for aye the demon, thought,--
But, ah! he _would be heard_.
He found a voice my ear to reach,
To pierce my aching breast,
In every wave that swept the beach
With proud, defiant crest.
And when the moon, with silver light,
Smiled o'er the waters blue,
It seemed to say 'There's nothing bright
O'er all this earth for you.'
Scarce half a moon have I been here,
Beside the sounding sea,
In hope its echoings in my ear
Might drown out memory;
Or might instil some vital life
Into this feeble frame,
Long spent and wasted by the strife
Wide-wrought against my name.
In vain, in vain!--nor sea, nor shore,
Nor any mortal thing,
Can to my cheek health's bloom restore,
Or clear my life's well-spring.
And yet there is a sea whose waves
Will roll above us all,--
Within its vasty depths are graves
Beyond all mortal call.
With what an awful note of dirge
This shoreless ocean rolls--
Bearing on its tremendous surge
The wealth of human souls!
----The Ocean of Eternity,--
O, let its billows sweep
O'er one that longeth to be free,
And sleep the dreamless sleep!
poem by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
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Floods And Disasters
floods...floods...floods
nature made disasters
and man made disasters
circle the mankind
alll over the world
and warlords accept
the NOBEL PRIZE without shame
signing the war budget with fame
hurricaines...hurricaines...hurricainesalll over the world
what is this
on the sacrifice feast eve
are we sin ful
in turkey and in Phlipinnes
forgive us the ALMIGHTY
forgive all the manhood and the muslims
graves...graves..graves
all over the countries
what is this
candles...candles...candles
flowers... flowers...flowers
on the graves
and the children
innocent children playing on them
and talking with the dead
death and life
side by side
peace and war
side by side
after disasters
man made or nature made
some live in heaven
some live on earth
after disasters
life goes on
turning on and on
no change
some take the nobel prize without shame
disasters swept away
all my feelings
are we living or dying
not knowing
not knowing
poem by Metin Sahin
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The Merchant Ship
The Sun o’er the waters was throwing
In the freshness of morning its beams;
And the breast of the ocean seemed glowing
With glittering silvery streams:
A bark in the distance was bounding
Away for the land on her lee;
And the boatswain’s shrill whistle resounding
Came over and over the sea.
The breezes blew fair and were guiding
Her swiftly along on her track,
And the billows successively passing,
Were lost in the distance aback.
The sailors seemed busy preparing
For anchor to drop ere the night;
The red rusted cables in fathoms
Were haul’d from their prisons to light.
Each rope and each brace was attended
By stout-hearted sons of the main,
Whose voices, in unison blended,
Sang many a merry-toned strain.
Forgotten their care and their sorrow,
If of such they had ever known aught,
Each soul was wrapped up in the morrow—
The morrow which greeted them not;
A sunshiny hope was inspiring
And filling their hearts with a glow
Like that on the billows around them,
Like the silvery ocean below.
As they looked on the haven before them,
Already high looming and near,
What else but a joy could invade them,
Or what could they feel but a cheer?
The eve on the waters was clouded,
And gloomy and dark grew the sky;
The ocean in blackness was shrouded,
And wails of a tempest flew by;
The bark o’er the billows high surging
’Mid showers of the foam-crested spray,
Now sinking, now slowly emerging,
Held onward her dangerous way.
The gale in the distance was veering
To a point that would drift her on land,
And fearfully he that was steering
Look’d round on the cliff-girdled strand.
He thought of the home now before him
And muttered sincerely a prayer
That morning might safely restore him
To friends and to kind faces there.
He knew that if once at the mercy
Of the winds and those mountain-like waves
The sun would rise over the waters—
The day would return on their graves.
Still blacker the heavens were scowling,
Still nearer the rock-skirted shore;
Yet fiercer the tempest was howling
And louder the wild waters roar.
The cold rain in torrents came pouring
On deck thro’ the rigging and shrouds,
And the deep, pitchy dark was illumined
Each moment with gleams from the clouds
Of forky-shap’d lightning as, darting,
It made a wide pathway on high,
And the sound of the thunder incessant
Re-echoed the breadth of the sky.
The light-hearted tars of the morning
Now gloomily watching the storm
Were silent, the glare from the flashes
Revealing each weather-beat form,
Their airy-built castles all vanished
When they heard the wild conflict ahead;
Their hopes of the morning were banished,
And terror seemed ruling instead.
They gazed on the heavens above them
And then on the waters beneath,
And shrunk as foreboding those billows
Might shroud them ere morrow in death.
Hark! A voice o’er the tempest came ringing,
A wild cry of bitter despair
Re-echoed by all in the vessel,
And filling the wind-ridden air.
The breakers and rocks were before them
Discovered too plain to their eyes,
And the heart-bursting shrieks of the hopeless
Ascending were lost in the skies.
Then a crash, then a moan from the dying
Went on, on the wings of the gale,
Soon hush’d in the roar of the waters
And the tempest’s continuing wail.
The “Storm Power” loudly was sounding
Their funeral dirge as they passed,
And the white-crested waters around them
Re-echoed the voice of the blast.
The surges will show to the morrow
A fearful and heartrending sight,
And bereaved ones will weep in their sorrow
When they think of that terrible night.
The day on the ocean returning
Saw still’d to a slumber the deep—
Not a zephyr disturbing its bosom,
The winds and the breezes asleep.
Again the warm sunshine was gleaming
Refulgently fringing the sea,
Its rays to the horizon beaming
And clothing the land on the lee.
The billows were silently gliding
O’er the graves of the sailors beneath,
The waves round the vessel yet pointing
The scene of their anguish and death.
They seemed to the fancy bewailing
The sudden and terrible doom
Of those who were yesterday singing
And laughing in sight of their tomb.
’Tis thus on the sea of existence—
The morning begins without care,
Hope cheerfully points to the distance,
The Future beams sunny and fair;
And we—as the bark o’er the billows,
Admiring the beauty of day,
With Fortune all smiling around us—
Glide onward our silvery way.
We know not nor fear for a sorrow
Ever crossing our pathway in life;
We judge from to-day the to-morrow
And dream not of meeting with strife.
This world seems to us as an Eden
And we wonder when hearing around
The cries of stern pain and affliction
How such an existence is found.
But we find to our cost when misfortune
Comes mantling our sun in its night,
That the Earth was not made to be Heaven,
Not always our life can be bright.
In turn we see each of our day-dreams
Dissolve into air and decay,
And learn that the hopes that are brightest
Fade soonest—far soonest away.
poem by Henry Kendall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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