Lake Scenes
DREAM
Ambling on beach in dark
when the lake laps the feet.
Sometimes I wish to walk away
on the water like a dragonfly.
MORNING
Trying to figure out
what happened?
Lake Huron went
into flames!
MOONLIGHT
Up, above
a white ship was sailing.
On water,
thousands of boats.
poem by Satish Verma
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Moments At The Beach
flowing water, cool breeze
waves washing a shore
birds drifting in the wind
boats sailing on the water
people strolling along the beach
children playing in the sand
sun bathers laying a shore
swimmers playing in the water
volleyball in the sand
family picnics under the trees
The lake so beautiful
The beach so free
people being friendly
the life so simple for a day at the beach
Strangers, friends and family enjoying the lake
the simple things in life is enjoy nature and ourselves
poem by Michael Peterson
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The Lake
The lake so grand, boats afloat
all sizes and shapes
pontoons, yachts, sails and fishing boat
people from all over and all ages
every wave so beautiful as the they stroll ashore
from white caps to rolling wave. the flow so endless
the boats flowing so gentling across the water
the fish swimming so free under the water
teasing the fishermen, steal the bait
the lake is the place to be on this fine day
God creation for all to enjoy
take the moment and view the lake
It so grand and so free
poem by Michael Peterson
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The Country Wife
She makes her way through the dark trees
Down to the lake to be alone.
Following their voices on the breeze,
She makes her way. Through the dark trees
The distant stars are all she sees.
They cannot light the way she's gone.
She make her way through the dark trees
Down to the lake to be alone.
The night reflected on the lake,
The fire of stars changed into water.
She cannot see the winds that break
The night reflected on the lake
But knows they motion for her sake.
These are the choices they have brought her:
The night reflected on the lake,
The fire of stars changed into water.
poem by Dana Gioia
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A Soul Dies
Sky overcast, moon was sad.
Ashes were sent to the lake.
Who killed the bird in morning rain?
Ashes were sent to the lake.
A hidden slaughterman did not die.
Ashes were sent to the lake.
The good old name now spells the doom.
Ashes were sent to the lake.
I will call you in pitch-dark night.
Ashes were sent to the lake.
Ascending gods have ruined my life.
Ashes were sent to the lake.
A child was stolen from a mother’s bed.
Ashes were sent to the lake.
poem by Satish Verma
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Lonely brothers
Across the lake I stare
Across through the morning fog
I hear the lonely call of my brother
His black white body
breaches the surface of the calm lake
His red eyes meet the green of mine
The call of our loneliness ring out across the water
To be swallowed by the fog
As my lonely brother dives ounce again
Never again to rise
Across the lake I stare
Across through the morning fog
Now I am truly alone.
poem by Matthew Ladin
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Silver Lake Of Dreams (Nonsense Poem)
Across the silver lake of dreams,
a malevolent pixie sits,
with rod in hand,
and line in water,
trying to catch the rainbow,
with its pot of gold.
His line of silver thread,
strung out and invisible,
against the water,
holds the magic of the world,
forgotten by mortal command.
Here we see a dragonfly,
of rainbow colours glide,
inches above the waters,
of the silver lake of dreams.
poem by David Harris
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Like the lake a Chinese poet sits beside in a painting
Who cares about
the weight of a lake?
Who would care to weigh it?
Who cares about
the colour of a lake
without the light of the sky
to reflect in it?
Who notices its modesty,
reflecting all, but silent of itself?
Who observes that the lake
remains unaffected,
not pained by loss,
not pleased by gain?
Who notices its wisdom,
obeying every law?
Who names its generosity,
among the fish, the birds,
the animals who drink?
Who knows whether the tree
leaning over it, sees its own reflection?
Who notices its love?
It bonds with earth,
It flows when needed,
as love does.
Who asks where the lake came from,
seeing it there?
Who wonders how old that lake is?
It is without age today.
Who wonders whether the lake
knows itself water,
or if water knows itself lake?
Who does not go to seek it,
for its stillness, for its silence,
as if it understands the mind’s needs,
the heart’s nourishment?
He is like that.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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A Paumanok Picture
TWO boats with nets lying off the sea-beach, quite still,
Ten fishermen waiting--they discover a thick school of mossbonkers--
they drop the join'd seine-ends in the water,
The boats separate and row off, each on its rounding course to the
beach, enclosing the mossbonkers,
The net is drawn in by a windlass by those who stop ashore,
Some of the fishermen lounge in their boats, others stand ankle-deep
in the water, pois'd on strong legs,
The boats partly drawn up, the water slapping against them,
Strew'd on the sand in heaps and windrows, well out from the water,
the green-back'd spotted mossbonkers.
poem by Walt Whitman
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Deep Forbidden Lake
On the lake, the deep forbidden lake,
The old boats go gliding by,
And the leaves are falling from the trees
And landing on the logs and i
See the turtles heading for the bog
And falling off the log.
They make the water splash,
And feeling no backlash,
They climb the happy banks.
On the boats, the old and creaky boats,
The shoreline goes gliding by,
And the wind, there was a dying breeze,
Is making the banners fly.
See the colors, floating in the sky,
The pride of the captains eye,
As he glides
His slender craft inside
And opens up the door.
On the coast, the long and tempting coast,
The cards on the table lie,
And a speech, so eloquent in reach,
Was made by a passerby,
Passing by the way between
Here and left behind.
And it ripples through the crowds
Who run and cast their doubts
In the deep forbidden lake.
Yes, it echoes through the crowds
Who run and cast their doubts
In the deep forbidden lake.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Lake And Its Magic Grace
I open my eyes this morning,
In front of me a marvelous landscape open up,
I am so amazed and happy,
And so astonished i become and contemplate.
A lake enriched with white water lilies,
Is developing to my eyes delight,
Its blue peaceful water vibrates,
When a white swan is touching it with grace.
Sun is rising up and warm this greatness,
When its beams are caressing the lake in shinning lights,
All it's coming to life and i can feel the joy,
Of the nature around that makes me smile.
A butterfly is flying to the water lilies,
And stopped for a few moments to enjoy their great perfume,
A fish is jumping restless for a breathe of air,
The birds are happily singing and fly to deep blue sky.
Nature shared with me all its greatness,
And i am humble pleased for what i seen,
I am happy to be the pasionate admirer,
Of this lake and its magic grace.
poem by Cristina Teodor
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I went to fetch water from the lake
I went to fetch water from the lake, but my love wont let me, O mother!
Kneading my firm breasts, he lusted for the nectar of my lips, O mother!
I went to fetch water from the lake, but my love wont let me, O mother!
'How did you hurt your lips' my mother-in-law suspiciously asks.
'It was my girl friend's nail as she was helping me with the pots'
I went to fetch water from the lake, but my love wont let me, O mother!
I had gone in a great hurry but my love held me back,
It is excellent to attain Narsaiyya's Lord,
For he made me like himself, O mother!
I went to fetch water from the lake, but my love wont let me, O mother!
poem by Narsinh Mehta
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Take Off That Load For A While
I see,
Your problem is heavy
I can feel its load
And I too cannot carry it,
But if you are kind to yourself
Like a friend
Why not take that load off
A while
And take your rest
Breathe deeply as you take
A walk around
This peaceful lake
Try meeting the
Colored fishes
In the transparencies
Of its waters
Touch a tree
Feel the strength
Of brown barks
Climb if you want
And see some
Nests with eggs
Hear the songs
Of birds on this
Hilltop and then
Walk again around
This lake
Let us see if the
Load is really
That heavy
Afterwards
You may come
Back tonight
And see the
Full moon
Sailing on
The placid water
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Lost At Sea.
You remember now the sound of the sea,
The crashing of waves, the white and grey
Gulls in the sky. Mother said, don’t go too
Far out; keep an eye on the young ones.
The cold water made you hop about when
It first went over your bare feet. You knew
Where the young ones were, you could see
Them there at the water’s edge running in
And out as the cold water chased them.
The beach was crowded; the crowds seemed
To occupy each area with their deckchairs,
Windbreakers and towels spread on the sand.
The bright sun shone down heavily; the air
Was still. And Mother’s voice loudly shouting,
Where’s Baba? Where’s she gone? And the
Place she was with the others was without
Her presence now; the panic gripped you.
Your eyes scanned the beach and sea; you ran
Along the beach near the water’s edge gazing
Out at the wide expanse of ocean, ignoring the
Passing ships on the horizon, the sailing boats,
The far out swimmers, just looking for Baba,
Your eyes searching each face, each child, every
Little one running on the beach or out at sea out
Of reach. Mother came running down the beach
Towards you, her face red with effort, her mouth
Screaming out words carried off by the other
Sounds and the sea’s call, pointing out at ocean’s
Hold as a man came up and out of the waves,
Water dripping, eyes wide, and in his arms, Baba
Limp and her swaying head, hair hanging wet,
Seeming lost to you, small arms swinging, dead.
poem by Terry Collett
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All I Ask
Stumbling down a road lined with signs
It's obvious I'm in the wrong direction
But I won't stop now you know I feel fine
Just looking for some affection
And all I ask is to be able to hold on longer
And all I ask is to be able to walk on water
Walk on water
I figure it won't be long it won't be hard
Just gotta get my feet back on the ground
Just gotten a hold of some unlucky cards
And I have yet to make another round
And all I ask is to be able to hold on longer
And all I ask is to be able to walk on water
Walk on water
No one lent a hand, no one laid a look upon me
Invisible to everything but blame
No, and no one cared to tell, no one dared to believe in anything
And left me to drown in this pain
And all I ask is to be able to hold on longer
And all I ask is to be able to walk on water
Walk on water
song performed by by Vanessa Carlton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
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My Ship and I
O it's I that am the captain of a tidy little ship,
Of a ship that goes a sailing on the pond;
And my ship it keeps a-turning all around and all about;
But when I'm a little older, I shall find the secret out
How to send my vessel sailing on beyond.
For I mean to grow a little as the dolly at the helm,
And the dolly I intend to come alive;
And with him beside to help me, it's a-sailing I shall go,
It's a-sailing on the water, when the jolly breezes blow
And the vessel goes a dive-dive-dive.
O it's then you'll see me sailing through the rushes and the reeds,
And you'll hear the water singing at the prow;
For beside the dolly sailor, I'm to voyage and explore,
To land upon the island where no dolly was before,
And to fire the penny cannon in the bow.
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
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At the fountain in the ranges
Something stirred below the water
of a pool,
where a fountain splashes in.
There was no wind
and the long grass was motionless
and the branches of a sugar bush,
hanged somewhat protecting
over the pool
It was early morning
and the pool was still dark
and in its depths,
there were black spots
that stirred ominously.
When the day got brighter
a sunbird came to drink water
and looked time after time,
at its image on the water.
.
There were water beetles
that played in circles
and tadpoles, .
swimming up and down
and a dragonfly hanged suspended
above the water
Life was trapped for a moment
and out of the depths
a predatory fish appeared
and when the dragonfly touched the water,
it disappeared into the bill of the fish
and into the depths.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Eastern Swamphen
Invertebrates and slugs and such they eat
The water birds with big and ugly feet
You know them by their wild and distinct cry
And their legs are always dangling as they fly.
Related to but larger than moorhen
And with coots, rails and crakes they too share common kin
In or near water they are known to stay
And from lake or pond they won't be far away.
Midst water reeds they build their nests of reeds and grass
No work of art just an untidy mass
And three up to five eggs the female lay
With brown spots through the lightish buff to gray.
With purple under black and red on face
And flicking tails familiar to their race
Birds when once seen you never could mistake
They roost in ponds or reedy swamp or lake.
If danger threaten to water they retreat
The water birds with big and ugly feet
And you know them by their wild and distinct cry
And their legs are always dangling as they fly.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Landscape 28 Meniscus
The molecules of water are held together
By weak electrical forces
That extend in all directions.
At the water surface, the upward forces,
Having nowhere watery to go,
Lie along the surface
To form a thin skin, called a meniscus.
This is the skin that holds water drops,
Supports water striders,
Even skips stones.
I came once to an Adirondack Lake
On a still moonlit night.
The lake seemed full of fireflies,
Flashes of light in the water
As far as the eye could see.
I finally discovered the source of the light,
The sudden movements of water striders
Riding the meniscus
Bent the water surface
Into a curved mirror
That reflected glimmers of moonlight.
The Japanese make a flower arrangement
In a vessel with a perfectly level rim.
The vessel is filled with water
To a level above the rim
The water is held from overflowing
By a curved meniscus
That bends light like a lens.
In the center of the water
Floats a single perfect flower
That sends tiny ripples across the water surface
And crinkles the meniscus
When the vessel is vibrated.
poem by Stewart McKenzie
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The Water's Edge
A clear lake, an eerie pool of misty white,
enchanted and enhanced by the moonlight,
with a shadowy silhouette of a weary wanderer,
enticed into a beautiful musical wonder,
simply captivated by a seductive siren’s song,
her crooning call stringing him along,
until he is by the water’s edge,
and to her, his soul, he does pledge,
snaring his encumbered essence,
with her alluring song and presence,
until the water surrounds his neck,
her arms around his shoulders, lips poised to peck,
an unrelenting inscape imbiber,
claiming his soul through sucking saliva,
leaving a hollow husk, an empty body,
floating in the lake waterlogged and soggy,
while his sodden soul sinks within the deep,
stolen by the siren to forever keep,
remembered only by hungry corpse fed fish,
that make echoing ripples upon the lake’s surface.
poem by Dale Mullock
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