En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Poetic Waters

behold this vast lake
silent serene waters
moonlight shimmers
upon life ephemeral
crystal cut wavelets

crystal wavelets dance
whisper in moonlit breeze
breeze blow cool upon
warm flesh homage perceiving
perceiving wisdom in vast

depth shimmer creative waters

in dawn’s yellow finger
light fresh beauty focus shapes
depth colour light touch
sound scent stir movement
life springs forth creates

creation dawn serenade
smell scent rhythm fresh
before hot overhead noon sun
time bestows eyes philosophy
divinity mind dream wakes

cast a pebble
upon surface
light reflective waters
watch time
spread wave rings

spread forth uniform
wave ripples spread forth
harmonic embrace minds

pebble sinks
deep embrace
welcomed by
wisdom’s waters
pebble rough

or smooth
passed on
seen in
third eye
memory

pebble or rock
shaped perception
is ever gone
seen no more
passage enfolds

enlightenment

shape formatic embraces
review rapid ripples harmonic
contemplate message symmetry
singer sing songs freeborn
on breeze string stir vibrations

remember
wisdom encoded
words
singer rock
are seen no more

poem by Terence George Craddock
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Pebble Passage Through Water

pebble rough pebble
smooth seen
vein colour adored

which makes
most beautiful ripples
on dark water?

behold beauty
of ripples
forget not
sound of entry

poem by Terence George Craddock
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Fresh

Magical twisted river winding through the land before time
Silhouettes of lovers dancing on the sands
The birds first break of chourus into the morning light
And the first kiss of the sun on trees extracting from them glorious shades of green

Fresh is the kiss of the young lovers as they stand holding hands
Fresh is the morning breeze briskly brushing through their hair
Fresh the first sip of crystal waters scooped lovingly into his hand
Fresh her lips pressed against his in an embrace of innocence

The scent of her more than any man in his lifetime can imagine
His masucline features more than any young girl could resist
As they press themselves closer together entwined they realise
On this first day of forever this is the beginning of time

New love and creation set forth on this day of days
The whole world seemingly new and refreshed with most astounding simplicity
Carefree as the wind they walk together
This is eternity this is the beginning this is the end, this is their time

Fresh is the kiss of the young lovers as they stand holding hands
Fresh is the morning breeze briskly brushing through their hair
Fresh the first sip of crystal waters scooped lovingly into his hand
Fresh her lips pressed against his in an embrace of innocence

poem by Nikki Hays
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Concentric

Pebble tossed into waters deep
Ripples awakened… from gentle sleep
Concentric rings of force in search
Of mossy banks ‘gainst which to lurch
And said stone sinks deep…deep
To mossy floor…watched by perch
…then seen no more…

Small rock I tossed, wraps silt around
Then snuggles deep into muddy ground
And sudden silence, not a peep!
It calmly falls into stony sleep
On mossy floor…in water deep
To visions of rapids and craggy shore
Watched by tadpoles
…then seen no more…

Pebble tossed into waters dank
By chance and fate, and cosmos swept
At random picked from rocky bank
Like life and Nature's mysteries kept
By chance and fate, by love and hate
We're children not of choice, but chance…
Given only a summary glance
Then seen no more
…no more…

poem by David Whalen
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A Pebble

I toss a pebble in the brook.
I close my eyes then take a look.
I see the ripples in circular form
and watch it increase in size.

When the water becomes still again
I toss another stone.
Being able to do this continuous thing
while I’m all alone

calms my mind and brings me peace.
And I forget for these minutes of time
everything that troubles me.
And I understand that I’m

just like the pebble I throw.
I create an effect that I know
makes ripples on the folks I meet
wherever it is I go.

poem by Edwina Reizer
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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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Pebble Justice

he picks up a pebble
and throws it into the sea
from a cliff
he asks: this is not a place
for pebbles
so this is not a pebble
i will return it to the sea
and be with the sands
and shells and
waves and winds
and seaweeds
and crabs

does he not wonder at all
if he has the power to decide where a pebble must be?

sometimes people assume so much
behaving like a god

must he think a little deeper and realize
that what is proper for the people is not proper for a pebble
that pebbles too have minds of their own
and who know if the same pebble to thinks
that the cliff is not the place of man
assuming to be its own god?

must he be considerate enough that pebbles too have
their own invisible feet
and well developed brains
and that when the man throws it into the sea
on the ground only of
impropriety
that the pebble may have objected it vehemently and could have
used its own hidden powers
but only that it did not show it
by reason of pity that this man
is so dumb
and so limited
in the flesh of its
own selfish
understanding?

does he not know that a pebble too demands respect
have privacy
and soon shall take its
inevitable revenge?

'bury mankind! they have thrown us away
without our consent' that is their clamor now
in their own
Pebble Court using their Pebble law
to be judged later
by their Pebble Magistrates.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Spread Your Words Upon The Water

as your words enrich the world
they enrich me also

as people read your words
and understanding grows

with empathy
they may embrace a better destiny

which in small ways
enriches our world

one day God may
smile upon us and say

'What you tried to do. It was good.'

the beauty of your words
is a pebble cast into the water

as the ripples spread and grow
may flow harmony and beauty

therefore spread your words upon the water

Copyright © Terence George Craddock
Dedicated to Kudakwashe Roak Mutama.

poem by Terence George Craddock
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Ambition

what i hold inside my pocket is just a pebble.
it is all that i have now.

i take it again put it on the table and look at its face closely
you know that it has no eyes
or hands or feet, i let it stay there as though there is only one pebble

in this universe of sands, i listen.
i let time stop for a while.

i look at the sky tonight and there are so many stars.
they are so distant you know that and you feel that

i take the pebble back in my pocket,
there will be no exchange, it is enough for my anchor
it is now my own rock.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Beach Pebble

Everyone has
at one time or other,
picked up a pebble on the beach,
turned it over in their hands,
sensed something of its uniqueness,
how millions of years have gone to the splitting
and the smoothing of the rock,
to the perfect shaping of the pebble.
Few of us stop and think for longer.
It is a momentary glimpse into an eternal process,
but we dropp the pebble and carry on walking along the beach.

poem by Howlin' Dervish
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A Pebble In My Shoe

a pebble in my shoe
i want it removed

a pebble in my shoe
a disturbance
in my mind

a pebble in my shoe
an enemy
in my feet

yet wait
let me recall
a grain of sand
inside the clam

a pearl
in my hand

once a pebble
in my shoe

let me walk again
let me remember

the pearl
in the clam

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Ships Passing In Night Born

ships are sailing upon turn tide flowing river waters
light is dance happy mellow yellows closing long day
soon sunset will add flame reds fingers yellow gold
sun sets sinks into still sea upon horizon home shores
dust light fades shadows creep in stealth murky images
suddenly black dawns night deep darkness speaks in glory

starlight sparkles upon enchanted waters river ebbs flows
passage across bar out into ocean waves rocks emotions
soon short journeys made upon ocean waters salts senses
watch shoreline beach grey sands invisible stretch wet away
waters dark painted ocean oil black sparkles in flow waves
beach sands perfume night with residue heat breeze vapours

poem by Terence George Craddock
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Memories In The Old Brain

-the smell of water
a scent hanging in the air
a trail through parched, barren land
now greened by rain
in a time of plenty.

the taste of marrow
fresh from the cracked bone,
touched by a fire
that lights the way
to a time of plenty

the sight of a day
over savanna grass,
sight without mystery
without awe
or the art to feel the dawn
and see the light with a new eye
in a time of plenty

the sound of a wild call,
a beast
stirring the heart,
a heart yet to be gripped
by the savage's siren call
to a time of plenty.

Memories deep in my core
of scent, taste, sight, sound
water, fire, light, howl
-memories from a time undefined
-before memory shaped
light and dark into day and night
-before memory became
slave and master of time.

I am a child of these memories,
before and after.

Dancing to the rhythm of time

I am old
in a time of plenty.

poem by Ronald Shields
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I Never Had Time To Explain Myself

there were stones thrown
on the water and so there were ripples
like the pain

the pain goes on and on
like circles spreading beyond a certain point

of my tolerance
my tongue forms some words like hammers

to hit the nails right on their faces
to break the monotony of destruction

without rivets no dovetails but
the story has become like a code of the samurai

to you, and you swing your head like arms
in disbelief how can all these be true he is not like this

and you become like a bone in my throat and i like
to remove every obstruction one by one

but i do not have the pleasure of keeping you
my hands inside my pocket are mine alone

the pebble inside it is warm and smooth
my treasure and like my conscience i keep it

inside my heart. I keep seeing ripples and then
i do not mind how many stones how far they spread.

i owe no one and no one owes me
i am an island and i wish there are no boats docked on my shore

any time, somewhere, any more.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Finding A New Pebble

Meeting you is like
Finding a new pebble
Out at sea. I don’t
see

Any similarity
with
The rest

i say
you're unique

And
no one
Believes this pebble
in my hand is
Something significant

In fact
Everyone does
Not really mind
At all
Saying it is
Nothing but a
A very ordinary
pebble

But in my heart
It isn’t
It is something
That
Amazes me
with its texture
of solidity
and
metallic color

it has
Changed the way
i look
At all the pebbles
on the
shore

you lied.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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We Woke In First Dawn

We woke in first dawn
in many dawns thereafter
in time we touched hearts minds

in time we gave pure love
to all who would receive
in time we wrote our souls

upon strands link symmetry
dew dropp diamond cobwebs
sparkles rainbow ripe pearls

mists quiet perfection seams rainy
in time we spun sunlit silk words
to catch songs sung mellow light rays

time touch minds with texture perception
vast wealth written taste creative nature
sing souls back to great spirit harmony

dedication to poetic detail soft sings
inspires creation into artistic conception
we gift holy spirit love healing vibrations

poem by Terence George Craddock
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That Morning Years Ago

the chickens just jumped
from the branches
where at night they are
birds

the white magnolia just
bloomed
such a nice scent spread
in the air

the bamboo leaves start
to dance with the
wind from the hills

the sun is about to shine
we are two bodies
making the river sing
on the crystal waters.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Upon our Lake

Upon Our Lake
Petroleum translucent wings wave upon a sage green moss
Whilst vibrating webs in fevered mood delight a flies flight loss
Tinkering thoughts they travel over a calming cool breeze break
Smiling eyes, a touch, a breath, do beguile upon a gentle lake

Cotton thoughts on wistful clouds disturb differing hues of blue
Emerald, limes, rusted umbers enhance breezes as they move
A whimsical dash of mottled fish engrossed in lifes harsh fight
To gather all required whilst avoiding, the silent fishers sight

A hand does stroke the waters as thoughtfully as a lovers face
Whilst oars and gentle droplets dance at such a soothing pace
Non returnable ripples travel onwards with no due care
Words, sights, scents, sounds, precious memories that we share

One day we will be but whisps that relished this cherished place
As lovers new will float on by with a fresh renewed embrace
And maybe if they are just like us they will sit and ponder on
Lovers who were once like them but now are sadly gone

poem by Karen Sinclair
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The Reflection of God

Thoughts are like ripples,
gently flowing over
the surface of the mind.

Deep inside us
we bear the image of God,
the ripples of thought break that image
into fragments.

It is as if you are looking in
a lake full of ripples-
It is a full moon night,
and the lake is reflecting
the beautiful moon.

But the lake is full of ripples
You cannot gather the moon together;
the moon goes on splitting
into a thousand fragments.
The whole lake seems to be
spread over by the moon-
the silvery beauty, softly broken apart;
many a fragments is seen floating-
all around.

Then the wind stops,
the ripples disappear:
those fragments start falling into one moon.
The silver that was spread
all over the lake,
now becomes more concentrated
into one place - into one moon.

When the lake
is completely without ripples,
the moon is reflected perfectly.
God is reflected perfectly
when there is no ripple in you.

poem by Nazmul Haque
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Sunday Morning Sun

I sat by a lake this morning
as the sun crept into the sky.
The dew sparkled on the grass
and I caught a glimpse of a butterfly fly.
The waters shimmered
under the morning sun.
The ripples caused by a light breeze
twinkled as they rolled along
as I sat in complete solitude
under a Sunday morning sun.
The world was so close,
yet seemed a million miles away.
Everywhere things were waking
to a brand new day.
The air was fresh and cool
like God intended it to be.
The leaves of my writing pad
flickered as I started
to write down what I saw
under a Sunday morning sun.

10 August 2008

poem by David Harris
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Adonis

Tormented
By one's reflection
On the placid waters of spring
As thoughts blossom in the naïve psyche
Of beauty's empowerment
As the sins of Narcissus
Cross the mythological barrier
To smear the humility of my creation
As the humble child in me flees
To capture the apical purity of Adonis
To succumb to the myth of idyllic beauty
To submerge in reveries of sight's miscreation
To worship contours and silhouettes of divine clay
Yet the clatter of a pebble on serene waters
Metamorphoses the promise of youth
To the reverberating wrinkles of age's procreation
As Methuselah emerges to remind the eloping heart
Of the mortality of physical beauty

poem by Dilantha Gunawardana
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