Richness through the Storm of life
Richness through the Storm of life
An unknown traveler, conquered, fallen, wrestling a deep pain,
Touched the skied mountains, and distant of white waterfalls unstained.
The morning breaks, with the unspeakable beauty of a glassy stream.
She lifts her pale eyes, to the imprisoned river that quivers a gleam.
The fluttering ever green dancing, to the music of the breeze,
Where the creeping waters ooze through the marshy fallen leaves.
The bickering waters flooding along the fast growing damp banks
With borders where ecstasy plays, leaving unexplainable marks
The rolling heavy logs shattered, trembles and hastily swim along.
Wonders of the waters, its rivers, streams, oceans and its wide seas.
Discloses a view, starry, enriched with expressions; bounties.
Our beautiful Lanka, with its enclosing mountain watery flow,
Fills echoing passions, a vision of heavenly bliss, and more.
Tranquility emerges into the heart with the delicacy of air
As the lonely wanderer rejoices, the foamy waters, with lessening despair!
poem by Shirani Ibrahim
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The Language of the Ocean
The Oceans and The Sea Speaks A Language
With expressions explicit in tranquility or rage
...The sea breeze moves gentle, swirling around tunefully.
As the fragrance of the oceans breath, lingers luxuriously.
The murmurs of its unwritten rhythm, plays a harmony,
The earthly design, decrescendos the waves flawlessly.
My eyes dip into the endless wide seas, away from land.
World of endless waters, volumes of sky, deep down the sand.
Where millions of sea shells, make their castles and home.
Richness aplenty and the sea creatures fearlessly do roam,
The sun caresses the waters to glisten, with a passionate sigh!
The moon, the stars, brighten the darkness in the sky.
An ocean of emotion with many a story, the seas embrace,
Expresses in ‘Allegretto' the depression, with shattering grace.
And serenity, a composition, an orchestra, with a healing taste.
A clear, concise, comprehensive with variable sounds to illustrate!
poem by Shirani Ibrahim
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Shannon, Silver Goddess, Flow to Sea
Shannon, silver goddess, flow to sea
And life bring you with thee
To the oceans loud and proud swell
Thy waters come, as if from a well
From which all of Ireland drinks
Your waters pure, the midlands links
With the seas wide expanse
With whose waters yours joins in a dance.
And so, silver goddess, each mile you grow,
Blesses be your waters that into the Atlantic flow.
poem by Tomás Ó Cárthaigh
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The Daly River
By those northern river banks,
There in days gone by I wandered,
By clear streaming waters pondered,
Youthful hours were never squandered,
By those sandy verdant flanks.
Saw the rain in torrents falling,
Heard the native dogs there calling,
Saw from sea the rain clouds squalling,
By the Daly river banks.
Born upon a distant range,
All the streams that feed the Daly,
Flowing slow or tumbling gaily,
Come the rains it rises daily,
In a flash the seasons change.
Down the stony gullies creeping,
From the fissured hillside seeping,
Rolling clouds their tears are weeping,
Over all the monsoon's range.
Sheeting over flats and plains,
By the creeks clear waters flowing,
To the raging river going,
As the land the heavens sowing,
Ever heavy fall the rains.
Then at last the gloom is breaking,
Sun asleep in cloud is waking,
Mud upon the flood plains baking,
So at length the wet it wanes.
In its middle reaches flows
Beautiful and clear and gleaming,
By treed sandy banks it's streaming,
With life in its waters teeming,
So it ever onward goes.
Over rocky bar it crashes,
Past the jutting sandbar dashes,
Dancing light in flowing flashes,
Cool but molten - bright it glows.
As the season turns to dry
Slowly flows the Daly river,
Piercing snags in currents quiver,
Sunken trees whose branches shiver,
Where at rest their bodies lie.
There a crocodile is sliding,
Close by muddy bank is hiding,
As the river calmly gliding,
Soft the passing waters sigh.
Soon the river widens more,
There a rolling wave is crashing,
White with foam and spray there splashing,
Sodden banks the torrent lashing,
Upstream runs the tidal bore.
Waters fresh and brackish blending,
Eddies, swirls, and whirlpools rending,
Still the winding river wending,
To the distant ocean shore.
Now the waters grey and wide,
As her heavy heart is flagging,
Wearily her burden dragging,
In her race to broad sea lagging,
Battling the surging tide.
But there spreads the great wide water,
And from there to every quarter,
There's no force on Earth will thwart her,
‘Till whatever fates decide.
poem by Dennis N. O'Brien
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Evening In Autumn
The western sun withdrawn the shorten'd day,
And humid evening, gliding o'er the sky
In her chill progress, to the ground condensed
The vapours throws. Where creeping waters ooze,
Where marshes stagnate, and where rivers wind,
Cluster the rolling fogs, and swim along
The dusky-mantled lawn. Meanwhile the moon,
Full-orb'd, and breaking through the scatter'd clouds,
Shews her broad visage in the crimson east.
Turn'd to the sun direct, her spotted disk,
Where mountains rise, umbrageous dales descend,
And caverns deep, as optic tube descries,
A smaller earth, gives us his blaze again,
Void of its flame, and sheds a softer day.
Now through the passing cloud she seems to stoop,
Now up the pure cerulean rides sublime.
Wide the pale deluge floats, and streaming mild
O'er the skied mountain to the shadowy vale,
While rocks and floods reflect the quivering gleam,
The whole air whitens with a boundless tide
Of silver radiance, trembling round the world.
poem by James Thomson
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The Rivers Too Wide
(morrison)
The rivers too wide now for crossing
The waters rush too loud for talking
We never build bridges for walking
cause the rivers too wide
A gentle stream once flowed between us
But love could cross it easily
Till stormy skies brought bitter teardrops
And made that stream a raging river
Come between you and me
The rivers too wide now for crossing
The waters rush too loud for talking
We never build bridges for walking
Theres no getting to the other side
The rivers too wide now for crossing
The current goes too deep for mending
It looks like an unhappy ending
cause the rivers too wide
Good lessons learned are not forgotten
We gave up love to save our pride
Next time Im faced with rising waters
Ill build a bridge of love and kindness
Reaching to the other side
The rivers too wide now for crossing
The waters rush too loud for talking
We never build bridges for walking
Theres no getting to the other side
The rivers too wide now for crossing
The current goes too deep for mending
It looks like an unhappy ending
cause the rivers too wide
song performed by by Olivia Newton-John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rivers Of Life
As tiny streams begin to flow, into larger rivers they shall grow.
Tiny streams of gentle peace, of waters that seem not to cease.
But as the rivers begin to grow, the deeper waters begin to flow.
In these deeper waters cease, the gentle flow of endless peace.
These rivers then snake the land, guided by God’s mighty hand.
And each and every river flows, as God directs the way it goes.
We too are guided by God’s hand, as we journey upon this land.
And God directs how life goes, gently guiding wherever it flows.
Coursing through all of our life, there are rivers filled with strife.
But in a river filled with grief, there are currents of gentle relief.
All the temporal rivers of strife, flow to an ocean of Eternal Life.
Where we’ll find eternal relief, from the turbulent waters of grief.
All the waters we pass through, God beforehand always knew.
And He will be right at your side, even when in the deepest tide.
This He told us so we knew, deeper waters He’d see us through.
So when we’re in a rough tide, God will see us to the other side.
The troubled waters that we see, will all end one day in Eternity.
The ending of this troubled life, is the Hope for all in Jesus Christ.
As we enter the peace of Eternity, when His Blessed face we see.
So believe today in Jesus Christ, and you will inherit Eternal Life.
(Copyright ©11/2005)
Subterranean for M lady Deana
Cascades of crystal water flow
into the waiting pool below.
The force and power of the descent
Renders the water turbulent.
Although hemmed in by rocky walls,
the pool beneath the water falls
is never known to overflow.
I wonder where the waters go.
Far, far away a river flows.
I have been told by one who knows.
Its source is that same rocky pool
which send its waters clear and cool
By secret streams deep underground
to where an exit can be found
A pathway to the world outside
to form a river deep and wide.
Close by its brink I sit and think
as shy wild creatures come to drink.
His explanation could be true
a train of thought which I pursue.
At last I find I must accept
this rather startling new concept
Which solves for me a mystery
I need no longer wonder why.
That distant pool won’t overflow
it has some outlet down below.
Which sets the pent up waters free
to run swiftly and secretly.
Through passages unknown to men
until it can emerge again.
Into the light where it can be
a broad stream dreaming placidly.
20-Nov-07
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Misty Haze
Misty blue haze, rise above the oceans, green waves
Loves seeds, entangle seaweed, washed ashore
Salty waters flow, to carve its sandy caves
Water glistens, loves silhouettes, dare to dance
Cool green waters, foam to white, a gentle seduction
Nature's music fills the air, a pure sweet romance
Suns glow, bodies external heat, passion's exotic blaze
Oceans exquisite temptation, salted lust upon our lips
Love's eyes locked in pleasure, a gentle hypnotic gaze
Body's silken skin, internal heat, together life's entwined
Foamy Waters, heightened sensations, a tantalizing Pleasure
Loves unforgettable passion, scribes a ocean delicate line
soft wind, gentle whispers, kissed away our fear
Nature's lust, loves desire, birds sing, body exotic bliss
Nether can resist, let passion sounded, for all to hear
poem by Daughter Of A Cracked Mind
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Early Works-Catacombs of Natural Beauty
The skies gentler shade than the seas
is hidden momentarily in the breeze.
The clouds that are colourfully crystallised
by the warm beckoning sun in our eyes.
The little bird that swoops and dives
flies the freeways of the skies.
While deep in the evergreen below,
the breeze bends flowers to and fro.
As gentle waters of the stream
reflects the sun in diamond shaped gleams.
As beneath the rippling waters surface
algae and underwater weed is spread out like a velvet green sash.
(Date Written Unknown)
poem by David Harris
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A Mountshannon October Morning
The stranger sat upon the park bench,
and looked across the Lough.
Smoke from his pipe
blended with the cool morning breeze.
The distant mountains patchwork of green
sat under the hand of dawn’s rolling mist.
The white capped dark waters rolled endlessly against the shore,
nudging the sheltering boats against their moorings,
and washed over shoreline rocks
speckled with lichen and moss.
A pair of swans with their signets sheltered
in the calmer waters of the harbour
away from the white capped waves.
The sun edged its way into the sky,
from behind the sleeping mountains,
spreading red and oranged fingers
to touch the retreating night clouds.
The village adopted ginger cat
made his morning patrol
along the harbour’s sleeping boats,
in a search for breakfast.
The autumn coloured tree leaves,
fluttered in the morning breeze
as the wind and waves rolling
over the shore bound rocks disturbing
the dawning silence.
poem by David Harris
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The Contest
Our palm designed to grow
In deserts, sent roots seeking far and wide
Channels where waters flow.
And in the city found
Intricate pipings where the waters flow
Imprisoned underground.
Since iron strength was nought
Against the clever groping fingers, meant
To find the thing they sought
Our palm's condemned to go;
While on through streets and houses at men's will
Rivers of crystal flow.
Be sad awhile. And then
Exult in visible beauty overthrown
By the fair will of men.
poem by Lesbia Harford
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Singing Skies And Dancing Waters
So many years ago, I can't remember now, someone was waiting for me.
I had the answers to all of my questions, love was so easy to see. I didn't know.
When I was younger, I should have known better, I thought that nothing was new.
Through all the spaces, in all of the changes, the one I lost sight of was you.
I didn't know, I didn't know.
I could see you in singing skies and dancing waters, laughing children, growing old,
and in the heart and in the spirit, and in the truth when it is told.
My life became shaded and I grew afraid and I needed to find my way home.
I just couldn't see you, I thought that I'd lost you.
I never felt so much alone. Are you still with me?
Somehow in reason, I lost sight of season, tides rolling out and rolling in.
Sometimes in evening when daylight was leaving, I though I'd never see you again.
Are you still with me? Are you still with me?
I'm with you in singing skies and dancing waters, laughing children, growing old,
and in the heart and in the spirit, and in the truth when it is told.
If my faith should falter and I should forsake you and find myself turning away,
will you still be there? Will you still be there?
I'll be there in singing skies and dancing waters laughing children, growing old,
and in the heart and in the spirit, and in the truth when it is told.
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Adrift: A Brisbane River Reverie
An amphitheatre of purple hills
And emerald slopes where nestling villas gleam,
Flooded with golden light that crowns and fills
Height, vale, and stream.
The clouds float motionless like isles of snow
Set in the sapphire of the summer sky,
The river, like a ribbon, far below
Winds rippling by;
As, like a creeping snake, with curve and sweep
The languid current steals past mead and scar,
To the dark mangrove fringing on the deep
Abreast the bar.
Slow drifts the boat past homestead, town, and lea;
The waters laugh and sob against the side
As down the murmuring river to the sea,
Dreaming, I glide.
Past meadowy marshland and gray limestone bluff,
Low mangrove fens and waste lantana heights,
Long reaches where the tides and winds are rough,
And sheltered bights.
Now wider spread the waters to the eyes;
Now sparser grow the homesteads, scarcely seen,
Save where some roof or gaunt gray trunk may rise
Against the green.
And salter on the cheek the breezes blow;
And in a deeper key the river sings;
And from the viewless sea move to and fro
Swift snow-like wings.
These are the harbingers from voyaged seas
Who knows what seas of thought man yet may sail
As science slowly sifts Life’s mysteries—
And lifts the veil?
poem by George Essex Evans
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Beside The Peaceful Waters
Beside the peaceful waters,
we watch the fireflies dance
late into the darkness
as we warm to love’s advance.
Beside the peaceful waters,
she steals my heart away
only to be gone from my side
at the breaking of a new day.
Beside the peaceful waters,
my dreams lie shattered in despair.
She has gone to another’s arms
and no longer, mine will share.
3 July 2010
poem by David Harris
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In Green Old Duhallow From Here Far Away
The fields in their beautiful wildflowers of May
In green old Duhallow from here far away
And nesting birds sing in grove and on hedgerow
In Cullen where Araglen waters do flow
On to the Blackwater en route to the sea
The old river babbles on eternally
Through a Countryside that is as ancient as time
That has inspired poets of the past for to rhyme
About the great beauty around them they had seen
In May when the landscape was looking so green
For May is a beautiful time of the year
In green old Duhallow so far north of here
The wonders of Nature a thing to enjoy
The cock pheasants are cucking in old Lisnaboy
In fancy I am back in the long ago
Just remembering a beauty that I used to know.
Were I a poet of such beauty I would write
White butterflies flitting in the warm sunlight
and cock robin with the sun on his red breast sing
In green old Duhallow in the latter Spring.
In fancy the song of the chaffinch I hear
In green old Duhallow so far north of here
Where the babbling waters of Araglen flow
Through fields to the Blackwater by grove and hedgerow.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Curling Waters
The tide rolls in on curling waters,
then stretches its fingers to touch the shore.
It hisses as each wave breaks
and its white waters pound against
the sands and rolling stones.
We can sit for hours watching
its endless race
to see which finger
can go farthest up the shore.
Its waters then retreat
as a new wave takes its place.
25 September 2008
poem by David Harris
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Beneath Still Waters
(dallas frazer)
Beneath still waters
Theres a strong undertow
The surface wont tell you
What the deep water knows
Darling, Im saying
I know somethings wrong
Beneath still waters
Your love is gone
Even a fool could see
That youll soon be leaving me
But each and every heart
Must take its turn at misery
And this time its me
And Ill cry alone
Beneath still waters
Your love is gone
Even a fool could see
That youll soon be leaving me
But each and every heart
Must take its turn at misery
And this time its me
And Ill cry alone
Beneath still waters
Your love is gone
Beneath still waters
Your love is gone
Beneath still waters
Your love is gone
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Deliver Me Out
Deliver me out of the river of your love,
And do not allow me to be drawn;
For i am in the deep waters of your love and,
You stood in awe because you were moved by my passion.
Of the emotions of this river,
I am in the deep waters of your love and i need help;
And you have to put joy into my heart to deliver me out!
You are all about this river and i need your deliverance,
So come and save me and take me home;
For the one who needs my love also wants me on this case.
This river has taken me so far,
So come and deliver me out of this deep water of your love!
For i'm about to sink into the mire of deep places.
Fill my lips with rejoicing and come forward to me,
For my heart desires to meet you around;
But listen to the pleadings from my mouth of love,
For i am in the deep waters of your sweet love!
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The Disciple
When Narcissus died the pool of his pleasure changed from a cup of
sweet waters into a cup of salt tears, and the Oreads came weeping
through the woodland that they might sing to the pool and give it
comfort.
And when they saw that the pool had changed from a cup of sweet
waters into a cup of salt tears, they loosened the green tresses of
their hair and cried to the pool and said, 'We do not wonder that
you should mourn in this manner for Narcissus, so beautiful was
he.'
'But was Narcissus beautiful?' said the pool.
'Who should know that better than you?' answered the Oreads. 'Us
did he ever pass by, but you he sought for, and would lie on your
banks and look down at you, and in the mirror of your waters he
would mirror his own beauty.'
And the pool answered, 'But I loved Narcissus because, as he lay on
my banks and looked down at me, in the mirror of his eyes I saw
ever my own beauty mirrored.'
poem by Oscar Wilde
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Down the Stream
From whence the brook? From where the waters gather
In mountains' deep recesses, stone-black lakes
And dripping crevices. It ripples forth
Into the shining day with scarce a voice,
And with no strength at all, till mountain showers
And winter's snow and spring storms pour their flood
Into the dancing brook, that foams and starts
And rushes headlong down the steeps and throws
Into the Unknown all its youth and strength,
And thunders into hell, to rise again
In sheets of whiteness into dreamy veils,
To kiss the flowers' feet and overflow
The meadows; thence, o'erbridged and caught and fastened
To wheels, to grind and grind with irksome noise,
To lose all liberty, all winsome frolic,
And work till doomsday. On and on the stream
Goes widening into calm and mighty strength,
A hero of a stream, that bears the ships
Like toys, and carries legions.
Wider still
He grows, and stronger, as he drags the waters
Of hundred rivers with him to the sea.
At last his course is sluggish, tired, slow,
A living death, till, blended with the sea,
A rising tide will carry him away
Into oblivion. Such is life! A stream
From unknown heights through storm and dangerous fall,
Through unknown land and never-ending work
Unto Eternity's great, unknown sea.
You cannot rise above the height you come from,
You only widen and expand--but downwards,--
Your strength is gone, your impetus is quenched.
And then the world will call you great and grand,
And make a fortune out of all those waters:
Your tears, your blood, your work, and what you spent;
The strength of all your aims and all your falls!
poem by Carmen Sylva
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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