I Had Been To This Sea Sometime Before (Catena Rondo)
I had been to this sea sometime before
where water stretch out beyond from the bay,
it had been on a tranquil summer day,
I had been to this sea sometime before
where water stretch out beyond from the bay,
the surge swells before it crushing breaks
while a tiny boat rocks upon the wake
where water stretch out beyond from the bay,
the surge swells before it crushing breaks
with some shells and sand swept out everywhere
before deeper in the water we both dare,
the surge swells before it crushing breaks
with some shells and sand swept out everywhere
while you smile in a way that I adore
we hear the thundering on a distant shore
with some shells and sand swept out everywhere
while you smile in a way that I adore,
we both swim through the crashing pull and flow
trying to find a way back, a way to go,
while you smile in a way that I adore
we both swim through the crashing pull and flow
it feels if our world is suddenly gone
while still together we do struggle on
we both swim through the crashing pull and flow
it feels if our world is suddenly gone
while we do see only the sky and sea,
we are trying to get back, to be free,
it feels if our world is suddenly gone
while we do see only the sky and sea,
we are blinded by a distant kind of sun,
hear the engine of a fishing boat run
while we do see only the sky and sea,
we are blinded by a distant kind of sun,
as an unknown, sheltering bay we reach,
as we both stagger out upon a beach
we are blinded by a distant kind of sun,
as an unknown, sheltering bay we reach,
we embrace and you stroke my hair gently;
a rich boat owner looks at you, smiles at me,
as an unknown, sheltering bay we reach,
we embrace and you stroke my hair gently,
we ride on a boat that rocks up and down,
but still we are in a world our very own
we embrace and you stroke my hair gently
we ride on a boat that rocks up and down,
I had been to this sea sometime before,
while we kiss each other and kiss some more;
we ride on a boat that rocks up and down,
I had been to this sea sometime before
where water stretch out beyond from the bay,
it had been on a tranquil summer day;
I had been to this sea sometime before.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Friend-Ship
My friendship is sinking,
I'm bailing out water as fast as I can,
Move too quickly the boat will tip over,
Move too slowly the faster it will sink,
Seconds away from abandoning ship,
But there's land in sight,
So close to shore,
Tying a rope to the boat,
Jumping into the water,
The water is so cold,
Pulling the boat to shore,
Moving too slowly,
Waves threatening to take the boat away,
Waves threatening to take me away,
Suddenly the shore seems so far away,
Waves fill the boat with water,
The burden of the weight of the water,
Becomes unbearable,
The rope is pulled out of my hands,
And the boat sinks,
Pulling me under,
I swim to the surface,
Swim to shore,
Once on shore I look back,
There is nothing left of the Friend-ship
poem by Mandy Author
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Friend-Ship
My friendship is sinking,
I'm bailing out water as fast as I can,
Move too quickly the boat will tip over,
Move too slowly the faster it will sink,
Seconds away from abandoning ship,
But there's land in sight,
So close to shore,
Tying a rope to the boat,
Jumping into the water,
The water is so cold,
Pulling the boat to shore,
Moving too slowly,
Waves threatening to take the boat away,
Waves threatening to take me away,
Suddenly the shore seems so far away,
Waves fill the boat with water,
The burden of the weight of the water,
Becomes unbearable,
The rope is pulled out of my hands,
And the boat sinks,
Pulling me under,
I swim to the surface,
Swim to shore,
Once on shore I look back,
There is nothing left of the Friend-ship
poem by Mandy Author2
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Ocean Breakers
She went to water;
she always did.
The heaving ocean
matched her heavy breathing;
it was a Ocean of Tears
like hers.
The swells crash
against the shore
relentlessly;
life was relentless too.
The foam;
Anger in the Water that day.
She went to water
she always did,
moving among the sand dunes,
face against the wind.
The sea gulls overhead;
caw! caw! caw!
She lifts her arms,
the wind blows her sleeves
making a flapping sound;
she could hear whispers
between the breakers,
she could hear weeping
among the retreating waves.
She stood there
on the Edge of Forever.
There is no end to the ocean.
Every day it calls to the Sun
and makes it rise.
.
Every night it extinguishes it.
She could walk to China;
she could
and no one would know;
no one would know.
The voice said
'I thought I would find you here'
Waves crashing
more soothing now
two tracks in the sand.
Sad swells
rise again
and retreat;
time and ocean breaks
bring them back together again.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
While You Are With Me
When Adam and Eve lived in Eden
the sea of faith stretched out into the blue
meeting the sky’s canopy
and its waves pulsed anciently
gathering water from the stream of life
and love, grace even the power of man
seemed at that time as to be unlimited
as if life could stretch on into eternity
Tonight the wind is blowing through the window
moving the curtains in a tender breeze
and in the distance I can hear the ebb and flow
in which the waves continually go
and the moon is casting light
that stretches out over the endless ocean
Your breath touches my breast and face softly
and I read true happiness in the smallest things
see your breasts rising and subsiding
while the sea is continually flinging
grains of sand crushing on the distant beach
and though sometimes it feels as if out of reach
happy moments are lingering
while you are with me
[Reference: “Dover beach” by Matthew Arnold.]
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Boat-ride, Surreal
there, there...down there
through a thicket of fog
beckoned a vacant boat
i fought through the fog
and reached a zone, misty
the boat pulled me as if
i were a piece of iron
i hastened through
the layers and layers...
there i was, at last
assured that it would
take me to the other bank
it wasn't to be
the gently rocking boat
began on an erratic sail
down down the stream
in its womb of deception
hid many a whirlpool
the waters jerky...
hey, what was i doing
sitting in a boat with no oars
nor knowing how to swim...!
'you're the boatman
you're the oars...
row row...
the other bank
a distant dream
row row...'
a song filled the stream...
18dec2009
0540hra
poem by Indira Babbellapati
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Papyrus Boat
Float me upon the source of the Nile
Where the sky meets the water
And let me sing...
'Row, Row, little boat
Gently down the stream
Merely, merely, life is but a dream'
With the beat of the song
take me back to innocence
as pure as a spring water
Return me back to innocence
Where life is a dream
Float me papyrus boat
Gently to the calmest spot
Where the lake sings its nightingale
To the floating boats in the horizon
For the ship has taken me
To a stormy sea
Where the wind howls
Row, row papyrus boat
Gently to the calmest spot
Row...row..row
Life is so..so real
It is not just a dream
poem by Fasika Ayalew
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Slowly slowly like this
Slowly slowly
The rippling waves hit the boat
A small fishing boat on the lake
In which he and I sit
Softly back and forth
Waves caused by some water ski
Do not disturb us
My hands stretch out on wood
Behind me as I look
At him
He is telling me a story
Bashfully looking away
Each time I try to catch
His eye
Familiarity warms his body
To mine
The distance is now less
But he still looks away
I smile
He is so cute
When he does this
He has no idea how much
I love him
And how happy I am
Just being with him
Like this
Looking at him
Watching him
And loving him
Always loving him
Like this
poem by Harriet James
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Memories of Eighty-Five
I. ‘A macramé plant hangs close to her bed
A macramé plant hangs close to her bed
on the eiderdown she lays stretched out,
at times as in deep thought or prayer
when the swimming pool draws you through the window
with dull blue water covering it,
inside lays burned brown a sun goddess
and her eyes swallow me alive
when she understands, knows me for whom I am,
loving me with passion from the start,
loving me through light and darkness.
II. The summer sun hangs white and hot over the sea
The summer sun hangs white and hot over the sea,
the sand is white and soft where the sea washes out
her smile and conversations carries me off
when I am caught in her beauty
and later the water is lovely cool
before a big wave knocks off her bikini top,
I have got to hurry to the beach
to get her a big towel,
later it’s a big joke for us both,
far too quickly summer sweeps past.
III. At sunrise we drive past Chapman’s peak
At sunrise we drive past Chapman’s peak,
along the sea on a twisting road
and she’s very much in love with me,
far away a ship is only a small dot
and her smile and her face sparkles
when we stop to look at nature,
with her light blue blouse clinging tight fitting on to her
and I kiss her above the emerald sea,
holding her for moments tightly against me,
and she enchants my heart, are doing things to me.
IV. At Hout Bay we sail out of the harbour
At Hout Bay we sail out of the harbour
and the wind is blowing her auburn hair around,
the sea lays stretched out from the boat,
on rocks an otter snorts like a dog,
others swarm wild around him,
when the boat rocks to and fro we get nauseas,
wish for the trip to be over,
see a big shark circling,
are happy when we are sailing away,
with the small boat dropping us at the shore.
V. In Kirstenbosh we were really lost
In Kirstenbosh we were really lost,
still I wonder about her gleaming lips,
her green-brown eyes descending into my heart,
feelings creeping deeper into me,
that is still living as a spectre,
as if forever she is part of me,
I am not really able to free me from her,
she still calls me unexpectedly,
I do not want it to end
and forever I am yearning for her.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
At Hout Bay the fishing trawler sails out
At Hout Bay the fishing trawler sails out
while the rain pours down
like water out of God’s hosepipe
with engines roaring in the ears
and clouds of smoke hang over the boats
with every fisherman for a moment being caught
in a own world while fog whirl about the boats
that rocks up and down to the harbour mouth.
The waves crash, the sea foams and bubbles
and “my girlfriend has a good lover, ”
is sung by one while the trawler sets its course
on the look out for barracouta, cod and sea trout.
“Look at the shining bodies, tons of trout, they are running free, ”
a fisherman shouts against the wind that pulls and pulls on the boat.
“Salmon man, salmon” roars the tiller man back and walls of water
roll past and the boat turns to get fishing gear ready.
“My girlfriend has a good lover and he’s a gelded goat, ”
the tune goes on and something clatters down
drawing the attention of the fishermen and the water shines
and when the boat is full they tell jokes that they guffaw at.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
At Eighty
Push the boat out, compañeros,
push the boat out, whatever the sea.
Who says we cannot guide ourselves
through the boiling reefs, black as they are,
the enemy of us all makes sure of it!
Mariners, keep good watch always
for that last passage of blue water
we have heard of and long to reach
(no matter if we cannot, no matter!)
in our eighty-year-old timbers
leaky and patched as they are but sweet
well seasoned with the scent of woods
long perished, serviceable still
in unarrested pungency
of salt and blistering sunlight. Out,
push it all out into the unknown!
Unknown is best, it beckons best,
like distant ships in mist, or bells
clanging ruthless from stormy buoys.
poem by Edwin Morgan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A World Without Water
Can you imagine a world without water?
It would be a world which is totally altered.
Rivers and streams would no longer flow.
The oceans' tides wouldn't ebb to and fro.
Without the cooling and refreshing rain,
Living things would struggle to remain.
With no fresh water, we'd have little to drink.
None of us would wash, so then we would stink.
Plants wouldn't grow: we would have no flowers.
There'd be no energy from hydro-electric power.
Radiators wouldn't work: there would be no heat.
We couldn't boil vegetables, eggs, or pasta to eat.
There would no longer be fish left in the sea:
Many aquatic creatures would just cease to be.
There would be no pools, in which we could swim.
Lakes and reservoirs would be empty to their brim.
There would be no travelling by ship or by boat:
There would be no water for either to float.
We wouldn't be able to wash the dog, or the car.
Without any water, we wouldn't get too far.
There would be no water to bind mixtures together.
We would soon get bored of constant hot weather.
We wouldn't be able to flush waste down our loo.
There are so many things which we couldn't do.
But in poorer countries, water is a precious blessing;
The urgent need for water is a matter that is pressing.
In the UK, we can access water each and every day,
But, what if, our water was suddenly taken away?
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Speedboat Ride
Eastwards, along the Thames, we leisurely cruise,
Taking in, all around us, some magnificent views.
We are given a live commentary, by our Guide,
As, past many places of interest, we now ride.
By the time, the speedboat reaches Canary Wharf,
There is far less river traffic, going to and forth.
Very suddenly, our boat picks up great speed;
To hold on tightly, there now is a great need.
As our boat zooms about, here and there,
The cold, wild wind whips through our hair.
The experience is just so totally exhilarating,
And, most definitely, well worth the waiting.
As the speedboat, merrily twists and turns,
The river water, below us, restlessly churns.
The boat zigzags about, rocking side to side;
In our seats, our bottoms can’t help but slide.
Over newly created waves, our boat now hops;
For a second, we’re flying, before we then drop.
We’re bumped about: just like at a fairground,
But, all too soon, our boat is homeward bound.
Our experience has really been just so thrilling;
To repeat it all, we are both more than willing.
A while later, we’re stood back upon dry land,
With another speedboat trip already planned.
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Boat On The River (Frankfurt 2000)
Take me back to my boat on the river
I need to go down, I need to come down
Take me back to my boat on the river
And I won't cry out anymore
Time stands still as I gaze in her waters
She eases me down, touching me gently
With the waters that flow past my boat on the river
So I don't cry out anymore
Oh the river is wide
The river it touches my life like the waves on the sand
And all roads lead to Tranquillity Base
Where the frown on my face disappears
Take me down to my boat on the river
And I won't cry out anymore
Oh the river is deep
The river it touches my life like the waves on the sand
And all roads lead to Tranquillity Base
Where the frown on my face disappears
Take me down to my boat on the river
I need to go down, won't you let me go down
Take me back to my boat on the river
And I won't cry out anymore
And I won't cry out anymore
And I won't cry out anymore
song performed by by Styx
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
A Paper-boat just on the Sea!
A paper-boat, I tend to be!
The sea of life is too stormy;
Afraid I am, it could sink me,
Before I can reach land’s safety!
But if He wants, the Almighty,
Could work miracles still for me;
And guide the boat to shore safely,
And keep me dry eternally!
A paper-boat just on the sea!
How can it float for long freely?
And when the sea becomes angry,
Can it escape its cruelty?
But all the same, I move slowly;
Nothing on earth can deter me;
Unless something so cowardly,
Drenches the boat mercilessly.
A paper-boat just on the sea!
I know I must make it surely;
And when I reach the shore, may be,
I will feel immensely happy!
A paper-boat just on life’s sea!
Who else would want to be like me?
God is my guide and my safety;
In Him, I have strong faith truly!
A paper-boat just on the sea!
A paper-boat, I tend to be;
A paper-boat, I want to be-
A paper-boat just on life’s sea!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 4-26-2000
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Boat On The River
Take me back to my boat on the river
I need to go down, I need to come down
Take me back to my boat on the river
And I wont cry out any more
Time stands still as I gaze in her waters
She eases me down, touching me gently
With the waters that flow past my boat on the river
So I dont cry out anymore
Oh the river is wide
The river it touches my life like the waves on the sand
And all roads lead to tranquillity base
Where the frown on my face disappears
Take me down to my boat on the river
And I wont cry out anymore
Oh the river is deep
The river it touches my life like the waves on the sand
And all roads lead to tranquillity base
Where the frown on my face disappears
Take me down to my boat on the river
I need to go down, with you let me go down
Take me back to my boat on the river
And I wont cry out anymore
And I wont cry out anymore
And I wont cry out anymore
song performed by by Styx
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
A Night Traveler
I am a night traveler
Travel all through the night
And my bed is a sailing boat
I reach for my bed every night
And take a trip places far away
To see new things and people
I travel past the harbors
Full of anchored boats
I travel past the beaches
With swaying coconut trees
I watch the waves
Embracing the shore
I watch the kids playing
And reach out my arms
Then I touch my own bed
Here comes a flash
And my boat is back
And I am back in bed
My boat sails every night
And reach home with morning light
Never did it anchor once
Still traveling every day
Hoping to reach
That unknown destination
poem by Selam G. Sekuar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Night Traveler
I am a night traveler
Travel all through the night
And my bed is a sailing boat
I reach for my bed every night
And take a trip places far away
To see new things and people
I travel past the harbors
Full of anchored boats
I travel past the beaches
With swaying coconut trees
I watch the waves
Embracing the shore
I watch the kids playing
And reach out my arms
Then I touch my own bed
Here comes a flash
And my boat is back
And I am back in bed
My boat sails every night
And reach home with morning light
Never did it anchor once
Still traveling every day
Hoping to reach
That unknown destination
poem by Deepa Thomas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Vic 1
THE boat is ready
you hold the paddle
and you step on it
and take the ride
there is this peace
that the pond offers
there is this solitude
of the heart
that speaks the silence
of the water
the boat wades with
you
then you let everything
float away
beside the river bank
a tree grows
with lush leaves
you lay your head
on the side of the boat
you close your eyes
and then dream
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
This Boat Is Sinking
Why, oh why? !
Why do i have to struggle on this earth like this?
For i am on the high sea and my boat is sinking;
Yes, this boat is sinking! !
How many rivers do i have to cross?
For the boat i am using is now sinking;
Do i have to dive into the sea or walk over it?
Why, oh why? !
I don't even know how to swim and,
How many rivers do i have to cross?
Why, oh why? !
Do i have to sink and see the ocean floor?
This boat is sinking,
This boat is sinking,
This boat is sinking!
Why, oh why?
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Keep A Rhythm
Push out the boat and let us row downriver,
Under bridges and around each curving bend.
Dipping the oars as cleanly as we’re able,
And pulling strongly, to reach our journey’s end.
The currents are quite powerful as we travel,
And concentration has to be intense,
But we will keep a rhythm in the doing,
And on completion, thrills will be immense.
Push out the boat and let us row upriver,
Gliding through the water like a dream.
Such a sight, is this vessel when in motion,
As we together, make our way upstream.
In control, there can be nothing nicer,
Great fulfilment with each stroke that’s plied.
A Sunday afternoon of such sheer pleasure,
When skimming o’er the water, starry-eyed.
poem by Ernestine Northover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!