Be Like River
River is like holy mother
Our life line and compared with no other
Its water flow with no noise
Render calmness with full of promises
People are advised to be like river
But they have not seen her before
She has different nature too
Very dangerous attitude to be very much true
When furious takes heavy toll
Destroy everything and uproot all
Touch both the banks and spell disaster
As if she has everything in form of power
It is like curbing someone's desire
Then you may have to get ready or prepare
For any result when she has her time
You can't undermine her ability anytime
Her desire is met sometimes
Some rivers diehard to reach sea anytime
But alas! The way is lost in between
Her desire to meet ocean is never seen
Normally she is cal and quiet
Not crushing us always as that of fate
She is always kind and affectionate
Lovely banks and so many things to relate
Trees and branches welcome with respect
Her action is commendable with an act
Both the sides bear high green grass
The cattle graze and many birds fly over to pass
So create nature like river
Have temperature like fever
Rise in a second and subside quickly
Scold by one hand and love so easily
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Ceases to Flow
The course of river ceases to flow
As if smile has worn out and loss of glow
The course lay at standstill
River has lost its way and the will
The river bad has turned arid
As if everything is burnt by use of acid
No life is seen with even slight movement
Waiting for fresh waters to rush at any moment
I hear far cry from night birds
They made no noise was ever heard
The river has brought dead silence
I see it as unusual sign hence
It spells disaster for time to come
Not good sign and hence unwelcome
Not river bank but all streams may go dry
Birds will have to migrate and prepare for long journey to fly
I take it as nature’s curse
Entire blame must go to us of course
The river has altered course or deserted in between
Such situation has never been witnessed or seen
No green grass may grow
No fresh water may now flow
What to speak now of curve paths and falls?
It may be spelled as simple curse for all
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Near Where the River Meets The Sea
The river widens and deepens as it nears the ocean and into a huge mass of water does grow
To look at it does hardly seem to be flowing at a snail's pace it does crawl along so slow
For dabbling and diving water birds ideal to live in with plenty fish and other water food to eat
The World is quiet by the high and brown paddocks near where the sea and the river do meet
The grebes, musk duck and black duck, the coot and dusky moorhen
The cormorants, egrets and darters birds shy of children, women and men
The omnivirous silver gulls in freshwater like to wash their feathers and preen
Near to where the river meets the ocean so many waterbirds for to be seen
When you tell me of one who does not love Nature you tell me of one to beauty blind
You tell me of one who is not observant with darkness of soul and of mind
So much beauty there is in Nature her wonders every day I see
On the bank of the slow flowing river a magpie sings on a stringybark tree
So calming for to stand on the brown banks where the river crawls on to the sea
I like billions of others love Nature the mother of the wild and the free.
poem by Francis Duggan
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A Man Who Knows Much About Nature
He has not been to college or uni and for so called success in life he does not have much to show
But about flora and fauna and Nature there is so much he seems to know
He knows all of the trees in the Parkland by the bark or the leaves that they wear
A man who knows much about Nature and for the health of Nature he care.
A man who knows much about nature by their songs the birds he recognize
He like the quiet place in the country far removed from human made noise
In the shadow of a tree by the river the sun shining bright in the sky
Listening to birds singing around him such moments of peace he enjoy.
He like places without man's buildings away from the noise of the street
A quiet place in Nature's own kingdom where the creek and the river meet
Where lark he is soaring and singing as upward and upwards he fly
He has been a student of Nature ever since he was a young school going boy.
A man who knows much about Nature and to Nature he remains true
And Nature needs all of her good friends for Nature's good friends are too few
The weekend finds him in a quiet place on a sunny day sitting by a tree
Near where the creek flows into the river the river that flows to the sea.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Shadow Of The River
As I look around under the shady trees breezy atop the river
Even as the shadows of the tree are seen in it like a mirrror
My curious nature got more of me as i ask myself where is the shadow of the river?
Why does it create shadow for other nature like itself and keep its own shadow hidden?
I said to myself as I look into the river, a glared around into the forest and its horror
And it becomes clear to me that Even the river brings calmness to evil wherever it finds itself.
So i found my answer.
The shadow of the river is in its calmness, the gentle flow that puts your heart to rest even when it overwhelms you.
Its contradiction to body temprature and yet so agreeable.
Under the shady leaves and the calmness around, i have found the shadow of the river.
poem by Yewande Adedokun
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Matamoras Banks
(Each year many die crossing the deserts,
mountains and rivers of our southern border
in search of a better life. Here I follow the
journey backwards, from the body at the
river bottom, to the man walking across
the desert towards the banks of the Rio Grande.)
For two days the river keeps you down
Then you rise to the light without a sound
Past the playgrounds and empty switching yards
The turtles eat the skin from your eyes, so they lay open to the stars
Your clothes give way to the current and river stone
'Till every trace of who you ever were is gone
And the things of the earth they make their claim
That the things of heaven may do the same
Goodbye, my darling, for your love I give God thanks,
Meet me on the Matamoros
Meet me on the Matamoros
Meet me on the Matamoros banks
Over rivers of stone and ancient ocean beds
I walk on sandals of twine and tire tread
My pockets full of dust, my mouth filled with cool stone
The pale moon opens the earth to its bones
I long, my darling, for your kiss, for your sweet love I give God thanks
The touch of your loving fingertips
Meet me on the Matamoros
Meet me on the Matamoros
Meet me on the Matamoros banks
Your sweet memory comes on the evenin' wind
I sleep and dream of holding you in my arms again
The lights of Brownsville, across the river shine
A shout rings out and into the silty red river I dive
I long, my darling, for your kiss, for your sweet love I give God thanks
A touch of your loving fingertips
Meet me on the Matamoros
Meet me on the Matamoros
Meet me on the Matamoros banks
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If life’s a river
If life’s a river
Flowing on a course
Long proven to be the best way
To reach the sea, then flow on
If the rocks and boulders
Are the cross
Each one of us is given to bear
Let our river flow around rocks
Over time, the sharp edged rocks will
Be rounded by the rivers flow
Ever there, but not so jagged
As they were before
The ever changing banks have seen
A trickle grow into a youthful stream
And swelling into a mighty river
That sometimes mingles with another
Every river looks for a path
That’s less rocky, a shorter way to the sea
Ever quietly flowing
Ceaselessly searching
Until one day, when it is time
A new path opens
The river changes path
And yet, every river pours into the sea.
poem by Anita Atina
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The Merri In Flood
The old Merri River in flood waters of brown
Is flowing on bank high on by Warrnambool Town
In and out of Lake Pertobe on it's sea going way
To join the Pacific at famed Lady Bay
The old river that is old even in time
That has inspired the poets and songwriters to rhyme
In the age of the dinosaurs the Merri was old
In full flood the river a sight to behold
In Summer by the banks of the river in the shade of the trees
The Indigenous tribes had their corroborees
Like the Seasons of Nature the people come and go
But the river on down through the flat country flow
In and out of Lake Pertobe and on to the sea
The Merri in flood is a great sight to see.
poem by Francis Duggan
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A calm river flow
Rivers are calm when flow quietly
You can hear from distance very gently
It touches the bank and flows silently
The constant move is on relentlessly
Rivers are named as mother too
It has proved very true
It can effectively prove as water way
They will be there for dominant play
Rivers continue to create fever
She has been dreaded with fear
When she has water flow and is in spate
No amount of words can help to state
Some rives are considered as death rivers
They bring catastrophes and shivers
They are feared most in people’s mind
They may be dangerous and so much unkind
Our lives are totally dependent on small or big
In every season she will make a dig
She will be like virgin lady
Rushing to meet her nice buddy
Every thing to face ruin on the way
She has still decisive role to play
It can be considered as our life line
She is kind, calm and always fine
When bloody wars were waged on the banks?
Many ships were made to sink
The blood continued to flow in the crystal water
Still men did not turn out to be hater
River has witnessed rise and fall of the empires
They continued to fight for lands to acquire
What made them to run for bloody race?
It was unclear from any angle to asses the case
Rivers may leave behind very good imprint
She may come and go with sound warning and hint
It is our misfortune that we are unable to control
Plenty of water to be enjoyed while on stroll
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Moss Hanging From Sunset Trees
I love the beauty of nature
I love the quiet of a still river...
I love the beauty of rare pristine nature
I love the quiet tranquil flow of a still river...
I love the sparkle light on sunset water
I love moss hanging from sunset trees...
cool breeze blows across cool river water
sounds smells infuse senses river lover sees...
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Song: When I Saw The River Rise
With soggy ground across the state,
The rain fell from the skies.
The storm seemed bound to seal our fate,
When I saw the river rise.
We'd built up all our levies,
Yet still we were surprised,
By the height and depth of eddies,
When I saw the river rise.
When I saw the river break it's banks.
Increase in breadth and size.
It came atop of that water-tank,
When I saw the river rise.
Together held fast, from the full weather blast;
We stayed 'cause we thought it wise.
With my partner tasked to do what I asked,
When I saw the river rise.
Just a short drive, she arrived in town,
To pick up more supplies.
A flash-flood found and drove her down,
When I saw the river rise.
The news was bad, I'd lost all that I had;
All that I valued and prized.
More than just sad, I was sure driven mad,
When I saw the river rise.
And I stood there on the paddock gate,
As the tears streamed from my eyes.
And I did not care how long the wait,
For all the help, it came too late,
In shock, in loss of my best loved mate,
When I saw the river rise.
When I saw the river rise.
poem by Dave SmithWhite
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Ocean of Purity Vavroovahana Patra
Beautiful Mahanadee flows with gaiety;
In all creatures plays waves of delight.
The vast river mingles in the Ocean;
She magnifies the beauty of creation.
All creatures quench thirst drinking water;
Bathing in the river derive purity, pleasure.
The river smiles in the lap of Nature;
Attracts all creatures, pure for ever.
Hindus, Muslims, Christians bathe in the same water;
All are sisters and brothers.
She penetrates rays of purity in all people of Earth;
The lovely river is an Ocean of mirth.
Sun beam kisses the river, magnifies her beauty;
Her lap is a perennial brook of delight.
Lovers enjoy on the cosy sandy lap of rivers;
Solitude, peace, love reigns for ever.
Poets depict poems, derive inspiration;
She is a fairy, Beauty of God’s creation.
Weary travellers rest a while for peace and pleasure.
The lovely bride contents their desire.
poem by Vavroovahana Patra
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Back up the Hill
As I walked down to the river today
I met a man with no legs in a chair
we spoke about life and he stood tall in a way
as I walked down to the river
As I walked on I met a blind girl
who gave me directions just over the hill
for someone like me who was lost she could see
as I walked on to the river
Down by the banks I met a small child
whose mother and father had recently died
and he splashed around with a heartful of life
down by the banks of the river
As I looked in the river I saw a young man
a reflection of me if you understand
who thought he would end it as he coudn't cope
as I looked into the river
Considering the people I met on the way
they didn't give up I heard myself say
and though I believed that I'd been through the mill
I laughed at the river, and walked back up the hill.
poem by Charles M. Moore
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The River of Blood
It’s the river of blood
Initiated by the enemies of God
And when advised too or told to stop
They just give you the nod
The nod of ignorance and cruelty
The nod of no life and no feel
As they are told about they’re evilness
They believe that none of it is real
It’s the river of blood
That flows down a dark and red stream
And as I dip my hand in, it feels like sour, bitter cream
It’s the river of blood
The river of cruelty and pain
The river of blood
The river that flows in vain
The river that will never end
The river full of the dead
The river where they remain silently hopeless
The river where the majority of them bled
It’s this river of blood where I inject my power and strength from
It’s this river full of blood where my victory will soon come
The river of blood, the river that will soon contain me
It’s this river where my blood has long sought to be
The river of blood that shall soon end with an atrocious fight
The river of blood, the river that will no longer stay at sight.
poem by Marria Attar
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It might be you for M lady Tara
A silver snake the river ran
deep and slow beneath the moon
It knew as only rivers can
the time was coming very soon.
When some lone traveller must pay
the dues it was entitled to.
Some reveller who’s on his way
after he’s had a drink or two.
The river chooses carefully
the one who’ll be the sacrifice.
The victim will die quietly
his ordeal over in a trice.
Each year the river takes its toll
a man or woman who’s full grown.
Releases their immortal soul
from all the sorrows they have known.
The locals know that this is true
and treat the legend with respect.
They know that when the fee falls due
the quiet river will select.
Somebody who will foot the bill.
Somebody who does not expect
this quiet water way to kill.
Though with their death they will protect
other travellers who cross.
The river is quite satisfied
with one who did not get across.
This sacrifice has mollified
the ancient hoary river horse
The Kelpie who controls the flow
of this deep river in its course.
But modern men don’t want to know.
Attribute deaths to accident
investigate to find a cause
for every single incident.
They disregard the River Horse.
Mere superstition so they say
and disbelieve the old wives tales.
But still the Kelpie has his way
one death per year he never fails.
Nobody see, nobody hears
there are no witnesses at all.
When the River horse appears
as he collects his yearly toll.
It has been so since days of yore
the records show with clarity.
One death per year and never more.
The river does not change its fee.
So should you choose to holiday
in Scotland you had best beware
The river valley of the Tay.
Unless of course you do not care
to listen to the tale I tell
and just dismiss it out of hand.
I speak of that which I know well
but I advise I can’t command.
You have the choice do as you will
take heed or not just as you choose.
You don’t believe that rivers kill
so bet your life its your to lose.
I am local bred and born
and I have seen my threescore years.
You may regard my tale with scorn
until the river horse appears.
You will believe than far too late
that Kelpies can and do exist
That’s why the legends still persist.
24 Aug 06
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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The beauty of nature
She was called forth by His devine voice,
created by the power of His speech.
she's the beauty of His devine work,
peacefull and lovely filled with bliss.
her beauty holds perfection,
her joy knows no detention.
the softness of her voice is highly felt,
we are mesmerized by her pleasant scent.
trees growing at the river side,
bliss flowing at the viewer's mind.
waters flowing at the river banks,
quenching the thirst from the drinker's heart.
animal moving together at homes and wild,
birds flying, feeling the beauty of the sky.
plants growing preserving life,
people living preserving plants.
the beauty of nature cannot be fully introspected,
for the beauty of her mystery is fully perfected
by that devine hand who cared for us with love
there is no gift as nature,
for she's our rise and fall.
poem by Randy Micheal
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Down On The River
Down on the river it's an easy kind of life
Everybody here's feeling fine
No need to worry or get in a hurry
Nothing to spend but time
Light up a smoke and tell a few jokes
And pass the old jug around
We're gonna get right on a Saturday night
When the sun goes down
(CHORUS)
Down on the river
Down on the river
Just some old boys making a lot of noise
Down on the river
Down on the river
Down on the river
If anyone calls, tell them we're all
Down on the river
We'll go fishing by the light of the moon
And bait them hooks by hand
And early in the morning we'll take them off the line
Fry 'em all up in a pan
We gotta get home while we still got a job
or we'll have to answer to the man
And everybody knows though we gotta go
We'll be back again
(REPEAT CHORUS)
song performed by by Alabama
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Heavenly Mahanadee Vavroovahana Patra
She is the mother of Plants, animals and all creatures;
Providing cool water contents their desires.
Man produces electricity from water;
Creatures live peacefully deriving the love of Creator.
Through canals she provides water for cultivation;
Peasants smile with delight, enjoy the beauty of creation.
Producing paddy and vegetables live peacefully;
The family smile with prosperity, gaily.
The river is an Abode of Crematoriums;
People of all castes, creeds, colours burnt in the river bed of creation.
Flowers smile on the bank of river;
It contents all poets’ desire.
Shrines of Deities smile on both sides of rivers
The shrine attracts the devotees, contents their desire.
The river is a Paradise of Peace;
All people derive Deities’ Bliss.
Sun God blessth all devotees in morn;
Beauteous looks the Wintery dawn.
Devotees surrender on the feet of Mahadeva;
He is omnipresent, omniscient, omnipotent, Sadasiva.
poem by Vavroovahana Patra
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Love's Seasoning
Wonder and passion still in reach the fullness of experiences
yet to happen multiple expressions in the most romantic gardens.
Love moving by leaps and bounds captures all of nature's sounds
proves the power has no notion to expire.The stripping of years
which we bear, there's the desire to have and to hold.The daring
man the woman to be exposed truth and consequence no ordinary
winds.Loyalty that binds through chimed time and age realizations
of collective work and happiness.Ideals and dreams the unstained
places in the heart memories of how it all began.Meeting of the
mind and body and soul like walking along a river hand and hand
between banks and rocks a love story marks with waves.Every
possibility awakened on a natural high within enchanted eyes.
poem by William Blackman
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I Love Time Out With Nature
I love time out with Nature and I love peace and quiet
To walk along the gravel path in the evening sunlight
When the wild birds are singing and Spring is in her prime
And even memories of such inspire the soul to rhyme.
I love time out with Nature a brief release from care
For Nature she is generous her gifts with all she share
We drink of her clear spring waters and we breathe in her life sustaining air
And Nature's splendid beauty is around us everywhere.
I love time out with Nature the only God I know
Her stream from the high country down to the river flow
The skylark from the rank grass in the mood for song he fly
One of Nature's feathered minstrels he carols in the sky.
In time out with Mother Nature from life's cares I find ease
The sounds of the leaves rustling in the freshening evening breeze
And we much like the Seasons to life we come and go
But Nature lives forever the only God I know.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Dark River
Swift 'n deep you run “Dark River”
Flowing relentless to a distant sea
You care not what gets in your way
Oh, impassive taker and faux-giver
How many canyons have you carved?
How many great trees carried away?
How many sins have washed clean?
Not even Mother Nature you obey
Dark River brought love to me
Then quickly washed it away
Deep ‘neath a million ripples
My fragile heart she did betray
Flow on Dark River, flow on
A Briny fate awaits, flow on
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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