There, there the land of bounty lies
Many fingers point to the land
of bounty.
All feet lead to it.
All hearts cry out
and are satisfied.
All thirst quenched.
All needs catered by the
Owner of the Land of Bounty
He who also owns
the skies and seas.
You are a sad man.
Why?
Why do you always
shy away from the Man of Bounty?
This is something that
I cannot really understand.
Sad man, you must tell me.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
The earth only has so much bounty to offer and inventing ever larger and more notional prices for that bounty does not change its real value.
Go away little girl
Beautiful girl
You have grown such long hair
Flowing like river
Go away now, follow that river
Find the sea follow your flow
To the vastness of
This bounty
Go away now and be yourself
Beautiful lady, earth’s bounty
You cannot find love in me.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Its Alright
Its alright forty days of rain
My skin stretched out from the growing pain
Itd be nice to have an explanation
But its alright
And its alright if you hate that way
Hate me cause Im different
You hate me cause Im gay
Truth of the matter come around one day
Its alright
I look at this lifeline stretched way all across my hand
I look at the burned out empty like a plague across the land
And for everything I learn there are two I dont understand
Thats while Im still on a search
Through the weather strewn church
Im doing the best that I can
And its alright
And its alright though we worry and fuss
(alright)
We cant get over the hump or get over us
(we cant get over us)
It seems easier to push than to let go and trust
(alright)
But its alright
When we get a little distant some things get clearer
Yeah give em the space some hearts grow nearer
I ran as hard as I could I still ended up here
And its alright
As I look at this lifeline stretched way all across my hand
(lifeline all across my hand)
I look at the fires of hatred
(fire)
Burning up the bounty of this beautiful land
(burning up the land)
I know that Im small in a way but I know Im strong
And its my thirst that brought me to the water
Well I give it all up then she carries me on
Its alright
Yeah
And its alright if I feel afraid
My plans in pieces
My plans mislaid
Its the will of the way
(the will of the way)
The will of the way
(its the will of the way)
The will of the only way that could have brought me here today
And its alright
And its alright
song performed by by Indigo Girls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Let us say cheers! ! !
when we grow grapes,
the bounty is huge,
what else be done,
brew it into wine.
When we grow barley,
the bounty is large,
what else be done,
brew it into beer.
When we grow rice,
the bounty is plenty,
what else be done,
brew it into vodka.
When the clime is extreme,
the fingers are numb,
breathing cold air,
can be hotter,
when you have a peg.
When the clime is extreme,
even the palms sweat,
breathing hottest air,
can be cooled down,
when you drown the chilled beer.
When you have moderate climate,
when you grow nothing in extra,
when you have hungry families,
why the liquor is sold
to the poor peasant?
for the revenue of the government?
Is climate a real reason,
for human to consume alcohol,
an item not food?
social drinkers,
compulsive drinkers,
addicted drinkers,
who ever we are,
we have the reasons,
to justify our actions.
in the name of liberty,
freedom and individuality,
without considering,
the welfare of the fellow human,
who may be strong and weak.
Holding a glass of water,
I say cheers to you, guys,
in the name of liberty,
freedom and individuality,
as I have no backbone,
to tell you not to drink.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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The Puckering Pickle Parade!
In a place called Pizanna,
Miss Lana-Leeanna
Makes a lip-locking lemonade!
But the bittersweet bounty
Of Cucumber County
Is the Puckering Pickle Parade! ! !
A tart and tangy tango,
Marsh moon like a mango,
As vinegar vapors invade...
Boy, the bittersweet bounty
Of Cucumber County
Is the Puckering Pickle Parade! ! !
So befriend and embellish,
Come garnish and relish,
The gherkins of Gooseberry Glade!
It's the pride and pure power,
(The sweet and the sour)
Of the Puckering Pickle Parade!
The Puckering Pickle Parade...
The Puckering Pickle Parade...
Pulp times are had...
Dill friends are made...
At the Puckering Pickle...
Pick three for a nickel...
The Puckering Pickle Parade! ! !
When it's one-fourteen in the shade...
Oh the bittersweet bounty
Of Cucumber County
Is the Puckering Pickle Parade! ! !
From the new book 'The Puckering Pickle Parade: And Other Read Aloud Poems4Kids' by Todd St. Pierre
See www.LouisianaBoy.com
poem by ToddMichael St. Pierre
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John Cornstalk
Jack Cornstalk lives in the Southern Land—
What says Cornstalk John?
Jack Cornstalk says in a loud firm voice:
“Land of the South, lead on.”
CHORUS:
Land of the South, lead on, lead on,
Land of the South, lead on!
Land of the South, lead on, lead on,
Lead on, Land of the South!
John Bull lays claim to the Southern Land.
Jack, is the South Land thine?
John Cornstalk cries in a loud, firm voice:
“The Land of the South is mine!”
Land of the South, lead on, lead on,
Land of the South, lead on!
Land of the South, lead on, lead on,
Lead on, Land of the South!
“By the long, long years my father toiled
In the pioneering band;
By the hardships of those early days,
I claim the Southern Land!”
Land of the South, lead on, lead on,
Land of the South, lead on!
Land of the South, lead on, lead on,
Lead on, Land of the South!
But where shall the Land of the South lead to?
Where lead the nation’s van?
Jack Cornstalk cries from his strong young heart:
“To the Dynasty of Man.”
Land of the South, lead on, lead on,
Land of the South, lead on!
Land of the South, lead on, lead on,
Lead on, Land of the South!
poem by Henry Lawson
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Charity
O why your good deeds with such pride do you scan,
And why that self-satisfied smile
At the shilling you gave to the poor working man,
That lifted you over the stile?
'Tis not much; all the bread that can with it be bought,
Will scarce give a morsel to each
Of his eight hungry children;-reflection and thought
Should you more humility teach.
Vainglory's a worm which the very best action
Will taint, and its soundness eat through;
But to give one's self airs for a small benefaction,
Is folly and vanity too.
The money perhaps by your father or mother
Was furnished you but with that view;
If so, you were only the steward of another,
And the praise you usurp is their due.
Perhaps every shilling you give in this way
Is paid back with two by your friends;
Then the bounty you so ostentatious display,
Has little and low selfish ends.
But if every penny you gave were your own,
And giving diminished your purse;
By a child's slender means think how little is done,
And how little for it you're the worse.
You eat, and you drink; when you rise in the morn,
You are clothed; you have health and content;
And you never have known, from the day you were born,
What hunger or nakedness meant.
The most which your bounty from you can subtract
Is an apple, a sweetmeat, a toy;
For so easy a virtue, so trifling an act,
You are paid with an innocent joy.
Give thy bread to the hungry, the thirsty thy cup;
Divide with the afflicted thy lot:
This can only be practised by persons grown up,
Who've possessions which children have not.
Having two cloaks, give one (said our Lord) to the poor;
In such bounty as that lies the trial:
But a child that gives half of its infantile store
Has small praise, because small self-denial.
poem by Charles Lamb
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Tennessee Owns My Soul
Orbison dees
Talk about troubles, I tell you I got em shovellin sand on the mississipi bottom
Yeah yeah yeah, yeah yeah yeah
I killed me a man in shelby county, they turned me in for the government bounty
Yeah yeah yeah, yeah yeah yeah
Tennessee owns my soul, that little georgia gal just wouldnt listen
She tried to run away with stoney lee I caught him and I put him six feet under
I wonder if he misses me? tennessee owns my soul
Rottin in a cell I try to forget her, wishin like hell Id never ever met her
Yeah yeah yeah, yeah yeah yeah
Gotta get away, gotta see my baby, gotta leave tonight, shes drivin me crazy
Yeah yeah yeah, yeah yeah yeah
Tennessee owns my soul, if I can get as far as lookout mountain
Highway twenty four will carry me to the girl I killed another man for
Even then I know I wont be free, tennessee owns my soul
I make it to the top of the twenty foot wall, the guard - Im hit, and I think Im gonna fall
Yeah yeah yeah, yeah yeah yeah
Laying on a broken back and cryin, everythings goin black and Im dyin
Yeah yeah yeah, yeah yeah yeah tennessee owns my soul, tennessee owns my soul
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rich Bounty
The trees are bare from winter,
all the foliage is gone,
but if you look closely
you will notice their life is yet gone.
On each limb of the tree
there is the awakening of new life from within
as spring sings its song
with warm winds and gentle showers
to warm and water the earth
bringing forth the rich bounty
that summer is waiting for.
The hibernating creatures will soon awake
to fill the land once more
as we bask again under the blue sun filled skies
as season follows season
to enrich our lives.
9 March 2009
poem by David Harris
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I believe that I shall see the bounty of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord with courage be stouthearted, and wait for the Lord.
Native Title
You are welcome to our country
When full respect is paid
To those who souls grew out from where
Their ancestors were laid
This land is our protector
This land our path in life
This land is our great comforter
This land is hurt by strife
Feel the heart that beats within it
As the seasons come and go
Feel the energy within it
From which everything does grow
This land will guide your footsteps
This land will feed you well
This land needs loving kindly
This land is not to sell
This land is just our country
This land is just our home
For its not just who owns this land
But whom this land does own.
poem by David Keig
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Over new; greens seas drip-fed
The poet is a lonely … (snail)
With elongated eyes espy.
Following a spiritual brail…
Questioning: what's a wry?
What; lucidity nears him by.
A non-apologetic; dreamer…
To him its do-or-die
With a silver trailing "stigma"
Over the high seas did Bligh.
Oh mutiny; he's not a rhymer…
{With a pirate, treasure scroll...}
With a bounty on his head:
His mutiny is that his soul—
And others might—never be fed.
By following him on… faith!
Over new; green seas drip-fed.
poem by Mark Heathcote
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Ocean Man
Ocean man, take me by the hand, lead me to the land that you understand
Ocean man, the voyage to the corner of the globe is a real trip
Ocean man, the crust of a tan man embibed by the sand
Soaking up the thirst of the land
Ocean man, can you see through the wonder of amazement at the oberman
Ocean man, the crust is elusive when it casts forth to the childlike man
Ocean man, the sequence of a life form braised in the sand,
Soaking up the thirst of the land
Ocean man, ocean man
Ocean man
[repeat verses]
Ocean man
song performed by by Ween
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Land Was Always There
Delagoa Bay!
Who owns Papa's Land?
Read the history of Africa and tell me the truth;
For the land was always there before someone came on it,
And the eggs do have lesser life span to live.
Someone came and pluck the fruit from the tree,
For the land protected it and the shades of love covered it;
But who owns Papa's Land?
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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To The Land
To the land of bribes,
To the land of telephones,
To the land of corruptions,
To the land of trains,
To the land of shops,
To the land of thieves,
To the land of connections,
To the land of drugs,
To the land of trucks,
To the land of cats,
To the land of Banks,
To the land of dogs, To the land of footballers,
To the land of dragons,
To the land of hope,
To the land of ice-cream,
To the land of potatoes,
To the land of chocolates,
To the land of tomatoes,
To the land of apples,
To the land of coffee,
To the land of lights,
To the land of ships,
To the land of birds,
To the land of tigers,
To the land of carpets,
To the land of pillows,
To the land of lions,
TO the land of toys,
To the land of horses,
To the land of beds,
To the land of roses,
To the land of love,
To the land of passion,
To the land of romance;
I never new women do snore until i married one.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Dr. Flash Hour
Horses from Egypt,
Of the prophecy and the love of your muse;
But the cocoa of Ghana is what you need today,
For i am about to tell you a story on this love!
She went to her own country like the royal bounty,
And the forest of Lebanon was exposed;
But i will present to you meat or vegetables at your request,
For Dr. Flash Hour is here with us tonight.
Dr. Flash Hour,
I am lovely and you've got the night;
And i will spread out my wings of love to learn how to fly away with you,
Because i can't easily forget how you taught me how to ride on the horse of Egypt.
My love is with you but the cocoa of Ghana is what you need on this love,
And i am ever ready to present my love along to satisfy you!
For the your sweet muse is like a country with a royal bounty.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Exiguity of man
The high peaks
With tall teaks,
Look down upon man
As he them seeks.
The steep dales'
Lush green vales,
Sneer at man
As he them scales.
The deep seas
Waves never cease,
They deride man
As he them sees.
Nature is mighty
With all its bounty,
Man is miniscule;
A small entity.
poem by Chandra Thiagarajan
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A Morning Poetry Ritual
what comes in
let it enter
i always will
each precious hour in the morning
these are guests
that feed us and not us
feeding them
these are the carriers of bounty
the harbingers of good news
the doors are open
and so are the arms
the hands are ready
the monitor is awake
and then the fingers
start to press the words.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Love's Bounty
If I had a lifetime's sins
to spend
I would spend them all on you
for your single kiss.
If all my yearnings could be gathered and condensed
I'd place them before you
for a single glance;
and tell you
I want you.
If all time allotted to me on this earth
was a single instant
I'd open-palm offer it to you
and gladly pronounce you
worth it.
If love mine
was all I had
I'd give it
asking nothing in return;
because self-less love
even if unrequited
has no need for recompense
or return;
but love of this kind for you
has already made me
a better person
than I am.
If you too
reach for me
to paint my soul
with the crimson brush
which are you lips,
then I'll be all the more blessed.
If not
this heart will not burst
for Love's True Bounty
gives
Love Immortal
subfussing the soul
which never dies;
A bounty which is the Heart's True Salvation
For that
I thank you
my sweet
my lady.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Renegade
Osama, be in fear of your life
From the long arm of the law.
Wingman has put an end to your gunnin,
Hes not so far from your home.
The jig is up, the news is out
We finally found you
The renegade who lived in caves
Retrieved for a bounty
Never more to go astray
Thisll be the end today
Of the wanted man
Osama, youve been years on the lam
And had a high price on your head
Bush-man said get him dead or alive
And its for sure hell see you dead.
Fear, osama, we can hear you cryin,
Youre so scared and all alone
Wingman is comin down from the clouds
And you dont have very long
The jig is up, the news is out
They finally found you
The renegade who lived in caves
Retrieved for a bounty
Never more to go astray
The judgell have revenge today
On the wanted man
Osama, be in fear for your life
From the long arm of the law
Wingman has put an end to your running
And youre still so far from my home
The jig is up, the news is out
They finally found you
The renegade who lived in caves
Retrieved for a bounty
Never more to go astray
Thisll be the end today
Of the wanted man
song performed by by Styx
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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