Proud River
The river flows through the inner city estate
in it I see beer cans, trolleys, and a milk crate.
Two coots sit on top of a mini fridge
a burnt out car lies under the bridge.
A beautiful Swan glides around an old pushchair
in the reeds lie a child's doll and teddy bear.
An electric cooker lies on the river bed
a family of ducks wait around hoping for bread.
In the dirty water swim little fish and a vole
a big fat rat shoots down a hole.
On a branch a Kingfisher sits ready to dive
Amongst this squalor they somehow manage to survive.
I imagine this stream was once clean and clear
Sadly now used as a dustbin year after year.
But flowing through all this waste and decay
this proud river meanders gently on it's way.
poem by Kevin Halls

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Related quotes
Thames! Beautiful Thames!
Thames! Beautiful Thames!
Thames River arises at Gloucestershire,
flows thro' London, the capital of U.K;
Thames River is tidal in London
With a rise and fall of 7 meters,
The river is fed by more than 20 tributaries;
The Thames River which flows alongside
several other towns and cities -
Oxford, Reading, Henley-on-Thames,
Windsor, Kingston upon Thames and Richmond -
is beautiful;
Thames River has a total length of 215 mile,
River banks on either side are beautiful,
Pavement strolling stretch on either side
is beautiful;
Boats sailing in Thames river are beautiful,
Young women who sail in the boats are beautiful,
White swan pairs' which swim in the river are beautiful;
Watching swans from the bridge,
- which spans Reading and Caversham -
somersaulting to catch the fish
is still more exciting and beautiful!
Thames! Beautiful Thames!
poem by V.K. Kanniappan

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Beautiful River
And he showed me a pure River of Water of Life, clear as crystal, proceeding out of the Throne of God and of the Lamb." -- Rev. xxii. 1
Shall we gather at the river
Where bright angel feet have trod;
With its crystal tide forever
Flowing by the throne of God?
CHORUS.
Yes, we'll gather at the river,
The beautiful, the beautiful river --
Gather with the saints at the river
That flows by the throne of God.
On the margin of the river,
Washing up its silver spray,
We will walk and worship ever,
All the happy, golden day.
Yes, we'll gather at the river,
The beautiful, the beautiful river --
Gather with the saints at the river
That flows by the throne of God.
On the bosom of the river,
Where the Saviour-king we own,
We shall meet, and sorrow never
'Neath the glory of the throne. Cho.
Yes, we'll gather at the river,
The beautiful, the beautiful river --
Gather with the saints at the river
That flows by the throne of God.
Ere we reach the shining river,
Lay we every burden down;
Grace our spirits will deliver,
And provide a robe and crown. Cho.
Yes, we'll gather at the river,
The beautiful, the beautiful river --
Gather with the saints at the river
That flows by the throne of God.
At the smiling of the river,
Rippling with the Saviour's face,
Saints, whom death will never sever,
Lift their songs of saving grace. Cho.
Yes, we'll gather at the river,
The beautiful, the beautiful river --
Gather with the saints at the river
That flows by the throne of God.
Soon we'll reach the shining river,
Soon our pilgrimage will cease,
Soon our happy hearts will quiver
With the melody of peace. Cho.
Yes, we'll gather at the river,
The beautiful, the beautiful river --
Gather with the saints at the river
That flows by the throne of God.
poem by Robert Wadsworth Lowry

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Dams On The Cuyahoga
Just west
of the Lake,
meanders
the burning river.
The river
in my dreams.
The river on fire.
The river
that oozes
rather than flows.
The river
in which
a person
does not drown
but decays.
And there
the river sits,
waiting for me
to come back home.
poem by Holden Solo

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Electric Eel Song
Ay! me one child Ay-eeee!
Ay! me one daughter
Take out you’ foot
From the black river water
Haul out you’ hand
Out the slow river water
Stay ‘pon the bank
Of the cold river water
Ay! me one daughter
Ay! me one child! Ay-eeee!
Electric eel
Is the eel in the river
Shadow ‘pon the bottom
Is the eel in the river
Something like you’ hand
Is the eel in the river
Swimming like you’ foot
Is the eel in the river
Ay! me one child Ay-eeee!
Ay! me one daughter
Foot after foot
Though the black river water
She can’t touch the bottom
Out the slow river water
Shirt like umbrella
In the cold river water
Ay! me one daughter
Ay! me one child! Ay-eeee!
Electric eel
Is the eel in the river
Cutlass shape
Is the eel in the river
Black blade or brown
Is the eel in the river
Dozing so quiet
Is the eel in the river
Ay! me one child Ay-eeee!
Ay! me one daughter
Slap of a tail
Through the black river water
Shiver like ague
Out the slow river water
As if she take cramp
Of the cold river water
Ay! me one daughter
Ay! me one child! Ay-eeee!
Electric eel
Is the eel in the river
No blood, just a thrill
Is the eel in the river
Lightning bold
Is the eel in the river
And she Drown now, she chilly
Is the eel in the river
Ay! me one daughter
Ay! me one child! Ay-eeee!
poem by Slade Hopkinson

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Survial.
Water comes from the river origin is clean,
I wash my head.
Water comes from the river branch is dirty,
I wash my feet.
Oh sure, when water in the pool is clean,
I jump in to swim.
But, when the pool is dirty, I leave at once,
And quit my job.
Oh who’s the original source not let me clean?
Keep my head and body clean without water?
How can I keep my head clean in the river?
How can I keep my body clean in a pool?
What is going on about the water?
How could I live in this world?
poem by Albert Wong

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A River Dies
a river dies choked to gills
expiring upon industrial waste
sadly as the river dies the fish die also
oxygen starved extinguished
life was a web of light upon the water
life web torn broken discarded
water breathed life into river flowing
man breathed in death river choking
oxygen rich river was flush with fish
smell taste drink putrid pollution
poem by Terence George Craddock

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Journeys end
The stream meanders to and fro.
Here where the cattle come to drink
the yellow cowslips gaily grow.
The weeping willows stooping low
adorn the banks on either side.
The stream continues in its flow.
Past meadows where the cattle graze
and fields where corn is ripening
but here and there red poppies blaze.
The stream now to a river grown
now deep and wide; it gathers strength
Its purpose to itself unknown.
Past cottages which stand alone.
Small villages and market towns
and bridges built of weathered stone.
It has become a thoroughfare
which slices through the city’s heart
With rush and bustle everywhere.
The docks and quays and factories
confine the river in its course.
There is no grass there are no trees.
The river flows on turgidly
until at last it gains release
and flows into the open sea.
But in the distance still the stream
meanders gently to and fro
Where cowslips nod and lovers dream.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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11.3
Have you ever seen my city?
The water flows free, like a river
through the streets.
My beautiful city.
During summer
cherry blossom, green grass, sunshine
the okiya, and jiin
Smiles and waves in the streets of
my city
now left with greif and pity.
Water, silver, mixed shades of brown and green
rushes past, flowing fast
stealing away people's world.
Filling the remains of a tea house
red, gold, glint as they float away.
A sofa lies in the midst of a field
stood alone, survival, vivid green,
perhaps it once belonged
to a family, like me or you.
Have you ever seen my city?
Beautiful, as it was, nothing
could compare
Now only left a waste land of destruction
after the quake tore through
and the waves rolled in
and my city, a lake now lies.
poem by Mia Rennow

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River Feeling
River feeling is
As simple as
Closing your eyes
For a moment.
Everything flows like river
River feeling is
As smooth as
Everything after
The first step.
Everything flows like river
River feeling is
easy as forgetting
Walking boots.
Everything flows like river
River feeling is
nice as
iron ties
Coming off.
Everything flows like river
Everything flows like river
Everything flows like river
Everything is good and flows
like river
poem by Julian Mann

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You kill the River not the Fish
waste dump makes us numb, plant grows
made us a calm, river flows lead us to glow in
the Lilies where they want go
beautiful fish as it swim, in the fresh water
it flaps; breathing as it dances, waiting to
see the angler hook, in a beautiful sway you
are always seen
gills so shinny, bone so flexible to cook, eyes
that looks like a golden moon in the gloomy
nights you will always stay
jump, jump and jump follow the rhythms of
the stream; almost going near to the sea, where
your heart sings and leads me to be happy
as the river goes out its way, turbid where
nobody wants to fish, everyday faces wants
to tease; it’s the clear water you always dump
makes me ugly, for each waste makes me
so funny
why are you not so sensitive to my calls, where
your eyes in fact is not big as me, you’ve made
me lost, nay! the food that is sweet and plenty,
serve and give the table now is empty
look at me now, my eyes is blind in your hands;
accept that you’re not so lucky for the
river now seems not for everybody; they’re all
dead and you come to me to beg
please listen first to my flee …..
poem by Antonio Liao

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Where The River Flows
Music : rudolf schenker
Lyrics: klaus meine
Under suburban skies
Where life is bleeding
Where concrete skies are grey
Theres plenty of room for dreaming
I still keep coming here
Follow those traces
I travel back in time
Remember all those places
Feels like I never left
The houses still standing
Down by the river where
The dreams are never ending
You find me
You find me
You find me by the river
You find me
You find me
You find me where the river flows
Under the silent moon
This industrial city
Is heartland even though
Lifes been not that pretty
I still keep coming here
To that old river
To find my roots just where
The future lives forever
You find me
You find me
You find me by the river
You find me
You find me
You find me, you can find me
By the river where dreams will never die
By the river under suburban skies
You find me
You find me
You find me by the river
You find me
You find me
You find me where the river flows
By the river where dreams have never died
By the river I look through childrens eyes
You find me
You find me
You find me by the river
You find me
You find me
You find me where the river flows
You find me
You find me
You find me by the river
You find me
You find me
You find me where the river flows
Where the river flows
Where the river flows
Where the river flows
song performed by by Scorpions

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The River Flows
The river flows quiet and swift
It twists and turns as the waters drift
It branches and breaks—its fingers entwine
It grows and grows—snakes like a vine.
The river with the soft scent of a calm day
With the smell of clean—hanging—still—in the grey
And sweetness carried on the breath of morning
It caresses the river—the waters flowing.
The river—crystalline from winter melt
And sweet with the summer soon felt
It tastes of springtime—the season between
And flows the river—so blue and clean.
The river—its lazy trickle of water
The musical rhythm—the ocean’s daughter
It whispers and murmurs—a song of its own
Playing over and over—in continuous drone.
The river—so clear and cool
The water flows—the color like a jewel
Its soft arms embrace the shore
The river surging from the days before.
The river flows quiet and swift
It twists and turns as the waters drift
It branches and breaks—its fingers in twine
It grows and grows—snakes like a vine.
poem by Kailey Jennings

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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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A Tall Story part two
There is a bridge that crosses over a river
A river that is eerie and makes you quiver
With the light of the moon the river will gleam
and a boat will go sailing, on its own down
stream. The mist will come from out of the trees
and horrible sounds can be heard in the breeze.
It sounded like cats caught up in a fight a claim
for territory in the dead of night, but cats never fight
on the waters edge just in case they fall over the ledge.
A river bank full of matted reeds where plants had died
without dispersing their seeds.A man dressed in green
who paddles the stream who can be seen clear in the
moonlit beam.Sometimes you hear him digging on
the side of the river bank, could this be true or is it
some sort of a prank
A river full of alge green and that's how it had
always been. No carp, no bream no fish to fish not
even a place for a secret wish.
No river bank wildlife to give it grace, just run over the
bridge and get out of this place.
The story tells of a robber who stood about three feet
tall and because of his height he couldent climbe over
the wall. Now behind the wall was the river which spread
down far and wide and the man in green had a problem
because he could'nt get to the other side.So he hid the
loot inside his boot and started to dig under the wall
but as he dug the water flooded in and he sank to
the bottom of the pool.
Apart from one thing he could not swim and the weight
of the loot that was in his boot no doubt made him take
root.If you go to the river and see the man in green, then
please come back and tell us what you have seen.
This is a tall story one with a short tale, I am sorry it
didn't excit you, but my next one wont fail.
poem by Sylvia Spencer

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Dry River Bed
The river- was, but died away,
leaving behind sand and stone,
a dry river bed.
The river that once led the way,
To Rameses throne,
Has no more life- dead.
The river from which reeds grew and swayed,
now dead and gone,
all that's left-a dry river bed.
The river that was marvelous by day,
and treacherous once the sun was gone,
is now but a dri river bed.
The river- beautiful, no words could say,
left behind - just a dry river bed.
poem by Esnala Banda

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I Looked in a River
I looked in a river from a bridge I was on
The river and bridge both small yet so strong
The water so clear you could see river bed
Yet what I saw cast around made me feel sad
A concrete pylon about two meters long
An old sack and Iron Gate and a cycle half gone
Then a blue plastic bag and a tyre yet no wheel
A place in seems for discarded items people steal
It’s a shame a disgrace as this debris is strewn
As around it all river plants and reeds fight for room
Yet again it’s a puzzle as the waters so clear
That’s despite this mess on the riverbed here
Copyright © 2008 Ray Feasey
poem by Ray Feasey

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Flowing Red River
I dive head first into the flowing red river.
It's acrid taste fills my mouth.
I drown in it's putrid depths.
My heart pounds and excitement grips.
As the flowing red river drips.
I cannot contain my growing glee.
I cannot wait to feed on it's bounty.
From down below I stand up straight.
I rise to greet this wonderful fate.
The flowing red river fills me up.
I bend right down from it to suck.
In and out I feel such love.
It cleans my soul flowing red river runs.
I feel it right now it's almost gone.
The pinnacle of joy hits like a bomb.
Yet I'm sad when the flowing red rivers gone.
Fear not though we'll always meet.
When the flowing red river comes to greet.
poem by Michael McParland

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Goodbye To A River
(don henley/stan lynch/jai winding/frank simes)
The rains have come early, they say
Were all gonna wash away
Well, thats all right with me
If heavens torrent can wash clean
The arrogance that lies unseen
In the damage done since we have gone
Where we ought not to be
Goodbye to a river
Goodbye to a river
So long
Lakes and levees, dams and locks
They put that river in a box
It was running wild
And men must have control
We live our lives in starts and fits
We lose our wonder bit by bit
We condescend and in the end
We lose our very souls
Goodbye to a river
Goodbye to a river
So long
The dirty water washes down
Poisoning the common ground
Taking sins of farm and town
And bearing them away
The captains of industry
And their tools on the hill
Theyre killing everything divine
What will I tell this child of mine
(solo)
I make a church out of words
As the years dull my senses
And I try to hold on to the world that I knew
I struggle to cross generational fences
And the beauty that still remains
I can touch it through you
Goodbye to a river
Goodbye to a river
So long
Goodbye to a river
Goodbye to a river
So long
Goodbye to a river
Goodbye to a river
So long
Goodbye to a river
Goodbye to a river
Roll on
song performed by by Don Henley

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The River and the Dam
The river flows down the hill,
Till it finds it is slowing
The dam stands as tall as a mill,
To stop the river from its flowing
The water accepts its fate,
Yet it rises as it waits
The dam stands it's ground
The river never finding a way around.
The river flows once more my friend
The dam did break and shall not mend
poem by Drew Fisher

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Help...
He is walking by a river
Feeling worse and worse by the minute
One second he is looking at the river
The next he is in it
The icy cold water pulling him down
His screams starting to make no sound.
He keeps fighting, kicking, howling
It was no use
The river was going to send him down
It would laugh in his ear
Knowing his struggle was useless
Though the boy was clueless.
It was decided that
That was all he could take
Letting his mind go numb
For his nerovs's sake
He is submerged in the water
Hearing a final laugh of victory
Just a bunch of mockery
From the stuipd river
nothing could be less civil
Down underwater
he could see many fish
And they looked kind of bothered
'Do not let the river win! '
a fish cried to him
'But I cannot swim no more
and you are just one fish' he sighed
The fish smiled 'Yes, but help can grow'
All the fish gathered around
And now the river no longer pulling him down
He gasped for air
Now he could see
That the poeple who really care
are the ones who can really help me.