Our State
THE South-land boasts its teeming cane,
The prairied West its heavy grain,
And sunset's radiant gates unfold
On rising marts and sands of gold!
Rough, bleak, and hard, our little State
Is scant of soil, of limits strait;
Her yellow sands are sands alone,
Her only mines are ice and stone!
From Autumn frost to April rain,
Too long her winter woods complain;
Fom budding flower to falling leaf,
Her summer time is all too brief.
Yet, on her rocks, and on her sands,
And wintry hills, the school-house stands,
And what her rugged soil denies,
The harvest of the mind supplies.
The riches of the Commonwealth
Are free, strong minds, and hearts of health;
And more to her than gold or grain,
The cunning hand and cultured brain.
For well she keeps her ancient stock,
The stubborn strength of Pilgrim Rock;
And still maintains, with milder laws,
And clearer light, the Good Old Cause!
Nor heeds the skeptic's puny hands,
While near her school the church-spire stands;
Nor fears the blinded bigot's rule,
While near her church-spire stands the school.
poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
The State Of Non-meaning
so many sands
long term plans
so many grains of sands
on the beach on the mind of man
oh, i guess
so many poems composed
each poem has become a grain of sands
so many grains
from my mouth
to my hands to my feet to the beach to the sands of time
in search for meaning
when actually there is none.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Hour Glass
I sit and stare
Watching as every grain falls away
I sit and stare
Asking what's there to life with every falling grain
I sit and stare
Asking what secrets lie within these sands of time
I sit, but this time I wonder
if the next falling grain brings hope to life
Clock's ticking, I sit back to relax
Sands falling, I clear my mind to hear my heart
Every minute passes me by, it's a moment to ponder
Reflections on my actions, the consequences that will seek to haunt me
But what good is this if I sit here another day
Ephemera it may be but life wasted if I regret my steps
watching as life ticks and trickles away from the grasp of man
I wish to see another day
So I sit and ask
if the next falling grain brings hope to life
I take a moment to sigh, so let my breath whisper my weakness
Tired from the daily routine of life
A hopeless endeavor lived for self
Ambition they say but what good is it if led by greed
if primary becomes secondary and secondary becomes primary
roofing replaces foundation and pillars become ruins
because surely chaos will pay you a visit
hence I know not a building of such design that stands the test of life
so I'll sit and ask
if the next falling grain brings hope to life
I'v been sitting in this chair for far too long
Least to say, my mind feels a little bit too far gone
Seeking for answers before the end of time
For when time ends judgment awaits
Will memories be our tombstones or will they be our well built thrones we'll one day sit on
Seek ye first what lies in the kingdom above
Let the gifts be secondary , let foundation be the basis
So u may sit and know
That the next falling grain brings hope to life
poem by Sir T.A.E.P.S
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
On Calais Sands
ON Calais Sands the gray began,
Then rosy red above they gray;
The morn with many a scarlet van
Leaped, and the world was glad with May!
The little waves along the bay
Broke white upon the shelving strands;
The sea-mews flitted white as they
On Calais Sands!
On Calais Sands must man with man
Wash honor clean in blood to-day;
On spaces wet from waters wan
How white the flashing rapiers play,—
Parry, riposte! and lunge! The fray
Shifts for a while, then mournful stands
The Victor: life ebbs fast away
On Calais Sands!
On Calais Sands a little space
Of silence, then the plash and spray,
The sound of eager waves that ran
To kiss the perfumed locks astray,
To touch these lips that ne’er said “Nay,”
To dally with the helpless hands,
Till the deep sea in silence lay
On Calais Sands!
Between the lilac and the may
She waits her love from alien lands;
Her love is colder than the clay
On Calais Sands!
poem by Andrew Lang
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Indian Wedding
(orbison)
There once was an indian brave by the name of yellow hand
He fell in love with a maiden know as white sands
They vowed their love would last forever more
Then came the day that they had waited for.
Yellow hand brought her a golden feather
White sands said a prayer for good weather
The ceremonial dance grew loud and strong
Then yellow hand began their wedding song.
Oooooh oooooh oooh ooooh
Ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh, ooh ooh
Tonight, tonight, we will be one
Well walk in the land of the midnight sun
Oh white sands, come hold my lonely hand.
Then they left the warmth of the raging fire
And rode into the hills climbing higher
And suddenly the snow came swirling down
They were lost the trail could not be found.
Oooooh oooooh oooh ooooh
Ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh, ooh ooh
Tonight, tonight we will be one
Well walk in the land of the midnight sun
Oh white sands, come hold my lonely hand.
They never returned from paradise
They went to their places in the sky
And the old ones still say when the snowflakes fly
If youll listen close youll hear him cry:
Oooooh oooooh oooh ooooh
Ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh, ooh ooh
Tonight, tonight we will be one
Well walk in the land of the midnight sun
Oh white sands, come hold my lonely hand.
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Wanderer
I saw the sunset-colored sands,
The Nile like flowing fire between,
Where Rameses stares forth serene,
And Ammon's heavy temple stands.
I saw the rocks where long ago,
Above the sea that cries and breaks,
Swift Perseus with Medusa's snakes
Set free the maiden white like snow.
And many skies have covered me,
And many winds have blown me forth,
And I have loved the green, bright north,
And I have loved the cold, sweet sea.
But what to me are north and south,
And what the lure of many lands,
Since you have leaned to catch my hands
And lay a kiss upon my mouth.
poem by Sara Teasdale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Come Back to St Andrews
Come back to St. Andrews! Before you went away
You said you would be wretched where you could not see the Bay,
The East sands and the West sands and the castle in the sea
Come back to St. Andrews--St. Andrews and me.
Oh, it's dreary along South Street when the rain is coming down,
And the east wind makes the student draw more close his warm red gown,
As I often saw you do, when I watched you going by
On the stormy days to College, from my window up on high.
I wander on the Lade Braes, where I used to walk with you,
And purple are the woods of Mount Melville, budding new,
But I cannot bear to look, for the tears keep coming so,
And the Spring has lost the freshness which it had a year ago.
Yet often I could fancy, where the pathway takes a turn,
I shall see you in a moment, coming round beside the burn,
Coming round beside the burn, with your swinging step and free,
And your face lit up with pleasure at the sudden sight of me.
Beyond the Rock and Spindle, where we watched the water clear
In the happy April sunshine, with a happy sound to hear,
There I sat this afternoon, but no hand was holding mine,
And the water sounded eerie, though the April sun did shine.
Oh, why should I complain of what I know was bound to be?
For you had your way to make, and you must not think of me.
But a woman's heart is weak, and a woman's joys are few -
There are times when I could die for a moment's sight of you.
It may be you will come again, before my hair is grey
As the sea is in the twilight of a weary winter's day.
When success is grown a burden, and your heart would fain be free,
Come back to St. Andrews--St. Andrews and me.
poem by Robert Fuller Murray
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Summerday Sands
I once met a girl with the life in her hands
And we lay together on the summerday sands.
I gave her my raincoat and told her, ''lady, be good!
And we made truth together, where no one else would.
I smiled through her fingers and ran the dust through her hands ---
The hour-glass of reason on the summerday sands.
We sat as the sea caught fire.
Waited as the flames grew higher
In her eyes.
We watched the eagle born ---
Wings clipped, tail feathers shorn
But we saw him rise ---
Over summerday sands.
Came the ten oclock curfew.
She said, ''i must start my car.
Im staying with someone I met last night in a bar.
I called from my wave top ---
''at least tell me your name!
She smiled from her wheelspin
And said, ''its all the same.
I thought for a minute, jumped back on dry land ---
Left one set of footprints on the summerday sands.
I once met a girl with the life in her hands
And we lied together on the summerday sands.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
To the Students
I see the young, I see the old,
I see their every face.
I see the world in sands of time,
With oceans in the race.
I see you going school-high school,
Where through silence wades.
I see your quarrels rise with age,
Your love but never fades.
I see you going to colleges,
Your life with highs and lows.
I see you in the sky and dream,
You really know your foes (?) .
And when you learn to work and trust,
And rise above the odds;
To strive n' thrive with zeal and zest.
To fight against the frauds.
With faith in God, you'll get the chance,
To blow the sands of time;
And offer me, "Osama! We have
Made your every rhyme.
poem by Osama Waqar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
That's my school
Up at my school
everyone is different
yet we are treated
like an equal
everyone is always smiling
or laughing so hard
they start to cry
that's my school
a lot of people
go through my school
home of the blue jays
to cool for school
standing tall upon the hill
behind all the trees
stands the blue jay's school
yup, that's my school
each person is unique
form the clothes
to the hair
to their personality
each person is free
to express themselves
and be who they want
that's my school
WHS blue jay pride
that's something
that can never be beat
and something that we can't hide
friends come and go
but one thing will live on
the pride we had for our team
just like my school did
no matter where I go
or how far I leave town
I'll always be proud to say
WHS in WashMo is my school.
poem by Shauna Stoltz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Waterfall
Chimes sing Sunday morn
Today's the day she's sworn
To steal what she never could own
And race from this hole she calls home
Now you're at the wheel
Tell me how how does it feel
So good to have equalised
To lift up the lids of your eyes
As the miles they disappear
See land begin to clear
Free from the filth and the scum
This American satellite's won
She'll carry on through it all
She's a waterfall
She'll carry on through it all
She's a waterfall
See the steeple pine
The hills as old as time
Soon to be put to the test
To be whipped by the winds of the west
Stands on shifting sands
The scales held in her hands
The wind it just whips her and wails
And fills up her brigantine sails
She'll carry on through it all
She's a waterfall
She'll carry on through it all
She's a waterfall
song performed by by The Stone Roses from The Stone Roses
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
From Among The Sands
from among the sands of the shore
and you must accept there are trillions and trillions of them there
you have the guts to tell all of them
that you are not like them
that you are this diamond
admired by emerald and sapphire
and that gold is inferior
the mighty sun shines everyday above the trillions of your kind &
it is not bothered at all
it does not know you &
finds nothing significant about your claim for self-claim for glamor & glitter
need i tell you Mr. grain of sand
that a grain of sand is and will always be a good-for-nothing grain of sand?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Safe Harbour
As the light starts to fade, at the end of the day,
And the last rays of sunset cascade on the bay.
The fishing boats set sail, their little lamps a glow,
Off to deeper waters and the school of fish below.
Along the granite, harbor wall, the lime washed cottage stands,
The little wind swept coastal path to the causeway and sands.
At the point a lighthouse giving out its light,
Protecting the wayward mariner as he sails on through the night.
For generations have come and gone, it’s always been that way,
As tide rolls in with the fishing boats that signals break of day.
poem by Nicholas Windle
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Falling Sands Of Time
the falling sands of time
spend themselves like the way you lose yourself
bit by bit to the floors of waste
but you have your hands
and your eyes do not fail to watch
you have the power in your mind
to turn back the sundial
and let the sands of time recover themselves
all for you
giving back that confidence
for rebirth
always always there are beginnings
your heart shall tell
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Seaside Visitation
Your grandchildren
play in the sea,
splashing and screaming
as the water chills.
You watch as you sit
on the stone wall,
your feet on the sand.
Anny stands staring out
at the broad horizon,
her ghostly hand
above her brow
to keep out
the sun’s bright glare,
her small phantom feet
touching the beach,
far from the water’s reach.
She hears the playful screams,
and ventures on down
between the crowds
who occupy the sands
with chairs and towels
and windbreaker walls.
She waits and gazes
at your grandchildren’s play,
her blonde hair and bow
touched by the sun’s glow.
You watch her as stands there
rooted in the sands,
knowing none see her
as you do now, her hands
resting behind her back,
seemingly in deep thought,
she wanders along the beach,
her eyes taking in
the seaside show,
her profile captured
by the sun’s warm kiss.
She turns and looks at you,
knowing that you see her there,
smiling she waves a hand,
then she’s gone from sight,
as once before
in Auschwitz’s hold she went.
Nothing now but the sea sound
and grandchildren’s laughter
and sea air and Anny’s scent.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
My Friend You Must....
we always want to spend
Christmas on the beach
what is it that we want to be reminded of?
the sands?
yes what about the sand?
when we arrive there
the kids run to meet the sea with laughter
the sea breeze is salty yet cool
the trees are tall and big and shady
the silent sands are peopled now
we will be too busy with fun
feeling saved and going public with
all that happiness gives us
the silent sands look at us with a gaze
it has a record of the past
it has absorbed the memories of the sea
it looks at us with pity
what is it about the sands?
and their silence?
i think i know it
but my friend you must find it yourself.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Ballade of Summer's Sleep
Sweet summer is gone; they have laid her away-
The last sad hours that were touched with her grace-
In the hush where the ghosts of the dead flowers play;
The sleep that is sweet of her slumbering space
Let not a sight or a sound erase
Of the woe that hath fallen on all the lands:
Gather, ye dreams, to her sunny face,
Shadow her head with your golden hands.
The woods that are golden and red for a day
Girdle the hills in a jewelled case,
Like a girl's strange mirth, ere the quick death slay
The beautiful life that he hath in chase.
Darker and darker the shadows pace
Out of the north to the southern sands,
Ushers bearing the winter's mace:
Keep them away with your woven hands.
The yellow light lies on the wide wastes gray,
More bitter and cold than the winds that race,
From the skirts of the autumn, tearing away,
This way and that way, the woodland lace.
In the autumn's cheek is a hectic trace;
Behind her the ghost of the winter stands;
Sweet summer will moan in her soft gray place:
Mantle her head with your glowing hands.
Envoi.
Till the slayer be slain and the spring displace
The might of his arms with her rose-crowned bands,
Let her heart not gather a dream that is base:
Shadow her head with your golden hands.
poem by Archibald Lampman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Self-searching
we always want to spend
Independence Day on the beach
what is it that we want to be reminded of?
the sands? yes what about the sand?
the grains?
when we arrive there
the kids run to meet the sea with laughter
the sea breeze is salty yet cool
the trees are tall and big and shady
the silent sands are peopled now
we will be too busy with fun
feeling saved and going public with
all that happiness gives us
the silent sands look at us with a gaze
it has a record of the past
it has absorbed the memories of the sea
it looks at us with pity
what is it about the sands and their silence?
i think i know it but my friend you must find it yourself.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Because We Are The People....
we are the people
we are the multitude of
small hands &
minds
we shall see soon how the mighty fall
how the powerful rock is crushed
to become the sands that
we are
we are the people
when the might falls
we shall feel
how powerful have we been
how silly had we been to forget
that we the people
that power resides in the multitude of our small hands
and minds
soon, we shall be the people more
feeling the power in our hands
the crushing power of our feet
the power of our minds
the mighty falls
the rocks have turned into sands
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sands Sift Between My Toes
If Fairy Dust could be sprinkled
Across the sands of time
It would undo all the harms I've done
To you and
To those and
Still to more of whom I do not know
But the fairies must have gone
Along with their magical dust
Instead of beaching under me
The sands drift over, around, and above
Grains gritting against my desperate pleas
I beg for them to take me
To the past
To the future
Unwilling, they say
It is here
Where I must stay
So here I have been left
To stand in stagnant air
Of guilt, of fear, of shame
Hand smacked each time I dare
To start life again with disengenuous flare
But blame the dust and sands I can't
Nor guilt, nor fear, nor shame
They are simply being true
To their birth, to their task, to their work
Inspired by these forces
I too must be true to
Whomever I am... or am not...
Or wish to...or wish not to be
In short, I must believe I add value
Just by me being me
As I think it, I can say it
As I say it, I can...
Reach out one more time
Eyes squinting recalling past smacks in my mind
This time mayhem does not make its way
No punishments doled
Despite the genuine truth be told
In its place a hearty laugh comes from the unknown,
'Go on about your life creature, for now you know.'
Suddenly, a quick of energy
Burst the black out of my soul
Leaving room for the dust of gods to enter
Waiting in ether for my true self to show
At this blessed moment
The sands of time stood still and fell
Allowing refuge from the pain
A flash of Self-Revelation
Joy be known
'Bless each tiny grain, '
as Sands Sift Between my Toes.
poem by Atty Davis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
It's Forth Across The Roaring Foam
IT'S forth across the roaring foam, and on towards the west,
It's many a lonely league from home, o'er many a mountain crest,
From where the dogs of Scotland call the sheep around the fold,
To where the flags are flying beside the Gates of Gold.
Where all the deep-sea galleons ride that come to bring the corn,
Where falls the fog at eventide and blows the breeze at morn;
It's there that I was sick and sad, alone and poor and cold,
In yon distressful city beside the Gates of Gold.
I slept as one that nothing knows; but far along my way,
Before the morning God rose and planned the coming day;
Afar before me forth he went, as through the sands of old,
And chose the friends to help me beside the Gates of Gold.
I have been near, I have been far, my back's been at the wall,
Yet aye and ever shone the star to guide me through it all:
The love of God, the help of man, they both shall make me bold
Against the gates of darkness as beside the Gates of Gold.
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!