I Saw From the Beach
I saw from the beach, when the morning was shining,
A bark o'er the waters move gloriously on;
I came when the sun o'er that beach was declining,
The bark was still there, but the waters were gone.
And such is the fate of our life's early promise,
So passing the spring-tide of joy we have known;
Each wave that we danced on at morning ebbs from us,
And leaves us, at eve, on the bleak shore alone.
Oh, who would not welcome that moment's returning
When passion first waked a new life through his frame,
And his soul, like the wood that grows precious in burning,
Gave out all its sweets to love's exquisite flame.
poem by Thomas Moore
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Related quotes
Happy Dog
I’m a happy dog at the beach
If I had the power of speech
I would tell you all
To throw my ball
I’m a happy dog at the beach
I’m a happy dog at the beach
There are no new tricks you can teach
I’m bouncy and glad
And my tail wags like mad
I’m a happy dog at the beach
I’m a happy dog at the beach
My joy is always in reach
Whatever the talk
It’s the best place to walk
I’m a happy dog at the beach
I’m a happy dog at the beach
As I hear the seagulls screech
I chase and I bark
Long into the dark
I’m a happy dog at the beach
I’m a happy dog at the beach
And I don’t want to start to preach
But if you ask me
The best thing to see
Is a happy dog at the beach
poem by Flying Lemming
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A Band Of Roaming Gypsies
In the early morning stillness,
I sit on the beach of life.
Beyond the foreboding mountains
near the life giving watery shore.
Feeling deserted by the world
when a band of gypsies stopped along the way.
Asked if I was lost
on my life’s quest.
I replied I was not sure.
Come and join us
as we seek our fulfilment
across the life giving waters
and life’s sifting sands.
So I joined the band of gypsies
as we travelled in all four directions of this world.
From the fiery morning mountains
to the cold caves where demons hide,
along the streets stained with sin
to find where our destiny might hide.
8 June 2008
poem by David Harris
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Summer Breeze
a straw hat on my head
dark sunglasses on my eyes
cotton beach shorts
barefoot i walk along the shore
i stop a while
the summer breeze is so cool
early morning
the sea is peaceful
the trees spreading branches
a shower of yellowing leaves
for the passing air
the sun spreads the first rays
a fine morning
a promising day
for you and me
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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On This Beach...
Life is a beach.
There are jellyfish. And sea urchins…the painful bumps along the road that we all encounter in life. On this beach.
In life..and on a beach there is warm water-like times, when we are happy, and have good times and enjoy living. On this beach.
We also have times, like a beach, when we have cold water times; when we are sad, or upset about losing someone or something. On this beach.
There are rough times, the same way the sea has rough water that pounds angrily against the shore. On this beach.
Life, like the sea, has high and low times, or tides. There is low tide when you think u can no longer go on, that life has done too much damage to you. Then the tide comes back in…and you are reminded that life goes on. Life gets better. You cannot give up on life, like you can’t give up on a beach because of a rough day or low tides. On this beach.
Life has sharks. Maybe not the same sharks from a beach, but they are there. They are the people that thrive on your pain and tears and hardship, the same way a shark sustains itself through brutal killing of unaware seals who don’t know what is coming or how bad it is. The sharks are there. Waiting. For someone…for you…like an unsuspecting seal, to come along and unknowingly become trapped in their lies and hurt. On this beach.
Life…has good times. Wonderful times where the only thoughts you have are about how much life is worth living and how much you love life. It is like the clear, cool blue water on a beautiful day at the beach. On this beach.
Life has those amazing people….akin to the beachgoers on a sandy shore…just along for the ride…to enjoy the good…and pack up and leave when it rains or something goes wrong. But there are the surfers..the daredevils…going back into the fear and love of the sea….of life. They risk the sharks, and jellyfish, and rough water and low and high tides, not because they are invincible, but because they know about the good that is to be had in this world. On this beach.
Life is so comparable to a beach…most importantly in that it has sand like a beach. Billions upon billions of unique grains of sand, like the 7 billion different people in this world, on this beach.
poem by Dark Fallout
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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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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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After A Lecture On Shelley
ONE broad, white sail in Spezzia's treacherous bay
On comes the blast; too daring bark, beware I
The cloud has clasped her; to! it melts away;
The wide, waste waters, but no sail is there.
Morning: a woman looking on the sea;
Midnight: with lamps the long veranda burns;
Come, wandering sail, they watch, they burn for thee!
Suns come and go, alas! no bark returns.
And feet are thronging on the pebbly sands,
And torches flaring in the weedy caves,
Where'er the waters lay with icy hands
The shapes uplifted from their coral graves.
Vainly they seek; the idle quest is o'er;
The coarse, dark women, with their hanging locks,
And lean, wild children gather from the shore
To the black hovels bedded in the rocks.
But Love still prayed, with agonizing wail,
'One, one last look, ye heaving waters, yield!'
Till Ocean, clashing in his jointed mail,
Raised the pale burden on his level shield.
Slow from the shore the sullen waves retire;
His form a nobler element shall claim;
Nature baptized him in ethereal fire,
And Death shall crown him with a wreath of flame.
Fade, mortal semblance, never to return;
Swift is the change within thy crimson shroud;
Seal the white ashes in the peaceful urn;
All else has risen in yon silvery cloud.
Sleep where thy gentle Adonais lies,
Whose open page lay on thy dying heart,
Both in the smile of those blue-vaulted skies,
Earth's fairest dome of all divinest art.
Breathe for his wandering soul one passing sigh,
O happier Christian, while thine eye grows dim,--
In all the mansions of the house on high,
Say not that Mercy has not one for him!
poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes
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Love Is Passion / U Have to Sing It to Get It
love is passon love is true
love need to come and find you
whenever i'm on a walk i want to scream
and sout its another
lovely day in the naberhood
in the naboerhood
in the naboerhood
its another lovely day in the naborhood
in the naborhood
in the naborhood
its another lovely day in the naberhooooooooood
of paso rubles californa ooh yaaaaaaaaa
i want to come and hang it with my friends and me
with my friends and me
with my friends and me
i want to come and hang it with my friends and me
with my friends and me
with my friends and me
i want to come and hang it with my friends and meeeeeeee
have a picnic by the ocean shore i wan't it to be just me and you
just me and you
just me and you
have a picnic by the ocean shore i wan't it to be just me and you
just me and you
just me and you
have a picnic by the ocean shore i wan't it to be just me and yoooouuuu
its another lovely day by the beach and shore
by the beach and shore
by the beach and shore
its another lovely day by the beach and shore
by the beach and shore
by the beach and shore
its another lovely day by the beach and shooooorrrreee
of morrow bay
its a good life with my best friends and me
with my best friends and me
with my best friends and me
its a good life with my best friends and me
with my best friends and me
with my best friends and me
its a good life with my best friends and meeeeeeeeee
ooooooohhhhhhh yaaahhh
ok lets go its another lovely daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyy! !
in the naboerhoooooooooooooooooood yah
by the way u have to sing it to get it ok thanks
poem by Valya Madden
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The Hindoo Girl’s Song
FLOAT on—float on—my haunted bark,
Above the midnight tide;
Bear softly o'er the waters dark
The hopes that with thee glide.
Float on—float on—thy freight is flowers,
And every flower reveals
The dreaming of my lonely hours,
The hope my spirit feels.
Float on—float on—thy shining lamp,
The light of love, is there;
If lost beneath the waters damp,
That love must then despair.
Float on—beneath the moonlight float
The sacred billows o'er:
Ah, some kind spirit guards my boat,
For it has gained the shore.
poem by Letitia Elizabeth Landon
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Leaves Compared with Flowers
A tree's leaves may be ever so good,
So may its bar, so may its wood;
But unless you put the right thing to its root
It never will show much flower or fruit.
But I may be one who does not care
Ever to have tree bloom or bear.
Leaves for smooth and bark for rough,
Leaves and bark may be tree enough.
Some giant trees have bloom so small
They might as well have none at all.
Late in life I have come on fern.
Now lichens are due to have their turn.
I bade men tell me which in brief,
Which is fairer, flower or leaf.
They did not have the wit to say,
Leaves by night and flowers by day.
Leaves and bar, leaves and bark,
To lean against and hear in the dark.
Petals I may have once pursued.
Leaves are all my darker mood.
poem by Robert Frost
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The footprints in my heart
My heart looks like a beach
After a long summers day
Absolute chaos
A whole life of people
Or just a day of chaos
When my heart
was just like a beach
early morning
just as the sun came up
washed clean of all that came before
not a print
unblemished by peoples disregard
for it is clean of all chaos
then I let the first person in
who walked a long trail
lonely path cut into fresh sand
serenity has come beauty
the first footprint
interrupted by a calm wave
sweeping to interrupt the first sign
of someone walking on my heart
then as the time drags on the beauty changed
more people than just one
disrupting my clean beach
walking, jumping, lying on my beach
the beauty changed to chaos
but for one thing
the footprint of love
of care that the beauty should not be touched
then hurt of the careless one
leaving their dirt behind
muddy footprints of a careless child
a conceited adult
so during the erosion of my beach
day in day out
night for night
cleaning and sweeping
but for those
careless footprints
of the one who used the beach
with no care
for what damage they do
they destroyed
the beautiful beach
the beautiful heart
so the question is
will with time
this beach
heal and find its beauty again
will the footprints of the new day
come back and make
the heart forget
those days of chaos
I wait for the one person
Early one morning
To make new footprint
Not one set, but two
One for me and one for her
New footprints on my heart
Her love
Who waked up the morning shine?
Who waked up?
the love in my heart
soared the feeling of my soul
Oh; the glow of her smile
The glance of her smart
so gentle and tender her smooth
Skin, the golden shining face
of her, and the darkness hair of her
Her lips's callingness love
called life in me
Oh her dress which dressing her
is beauty her dress?
I can't define
if the beauty her or her dress
She waked up in me
the morning rays
whispering the love in me
poem by Sallam Yassin
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When I walk om Margate’s beach
When I walk om Margate’s beach
something is caught,
in the sound of the breaking waves
and it echoes there forever more.
The beach is wiped clear
by the rushing waters
of the high tide,
but somehow footprints
walk the beach
as if they were just set there.
In the pleasant summer
golden bodies spreads
right around me
and the waves,
are filled with children
splashing and laughing
at the joy of living.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Sandy Thoughts
'Ride this wave with me and know,
That every wave leads to a beach
But every beach is different.
The beach I seek is one where
The sand fits perfectly between my toes
Like your fingers between my hand.
Where the water embraces my skin in warmth,
To remind me how it feels to hold you.
A beach where me and you are the only ones,
To let you know, you are my only one.
I am not afraid of where this wave will take us,
I am afraid that you and I will never see the beach I seek.
That when I look back and think, what could have been,
Should have been, will never be.'
poem by Vinh Nguyen
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Waiting for You Everyday
Waiting for you
Tapped on the beach where the wave swept the footprints
The seashells rack their brains
How to attach to the ears to respond the tide?
Waiting for you everyday
At the moment that clearly divided the water and sky
The waters deeply separated
How to tide your figure over the sea
The sky is high above
How to flow your cloudy featuring
Does the water only alter its waves?
Does the sky really have no memories?
Whether it’s true or illusive, still
Waiting for you everyday
The moment in oneness of water and sky
poem by DePen Chang
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Early In The Morning
Early in the morning and I cant get right
Had a little date with my baby last night
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Now its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to all the places where we used to go
Went to your house but you dont live there no more
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to your friends house but she was out
Knock on your fathers door and he began to shout get out there boy
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to doogie chain to get something to eat
Waiter looked at me and said you sure look beat
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My dogs
bark at the neighbors,
bark at the UPS man,
bark at cars
and kids on bicycles.
they bark at the television,
the radio
and the stereo.
they bark at
the vacuum cleaner,
the dust mop
and the broom.
they bark at
anyone
who enters the house
uninvited.
and
when they’re not barking,
they’re sitting there
waiting
for something
to bark at.
good dogs.
poem by John Yamrus
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The Dance Of Life (3)
the dance of life
is not loneliness
it is meant to be shared
in a circle of friends
two for a tango
three can be a boogie
five or more
in a disco
shouts for joy
energy overflowing
like a waterfall
the dance of life
the ecstasy
the bliss of everyday
the joys of the many
the dance of life
children merry on the playground
mothers watching
and fathers working with so much
awe and inspirations
the dance of life
grandpas holding hands with grandmas
strolling on the beach
the dance of life
sunshine early morning on the grass
moonlight and stars on top of the roof
sipping coffee
reading a book of poems
the dance of life
stopping in a moment and then
contemplating on an end
somehow there is this stopping for a moment
silence
and then returning to the power of fireworks
friends giggling
over an interesting love affair
the dance of life
with you.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Jack Russell was heard in the dark.
He would bark on the beach at a shark.
When he ventured too close
he was grabbed by the nose
in the end there was just one more bark.
quote by by Herbert Nehrlich
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Keep Your Lure In The Water
Chorus:
Keep your lure in the water,
Don't just sit by the shore
There are souls to be caught
Everywhere in this old world
Go where hearts are plenty,
Don't just drift with the tide
Keep your lure in the water,
In the waters of life
The lord said, "Simon, haul your nets in
From now on you're a fisher of men"
Well, I like fishin',
That's why it caught my ear
The Lord knew how to get to me
And what I'd need to hear
Chous:
Keep your lure in the water,
Don't just sit by the shore
There are souls to be caught
Everywhere in this old world
Go where hearts are plenty,
Don't just drift with the tide
Keep your lure in the water,
In the waters of life
--- Instrumental ---
Well the sea is troubled
And it's hard to stay afloat
And you feel like Jesus
Is sleeping in the boat
Don't you dare give up
On the Prince of Peace
And in the middle of the storm
You will find a sweet release
Chorus:
Keep your lure in the water,
Don't just sit by the shore
There are souls to be caught
Everywhere in this old world
Go where hearts are plenty,
Don't just drift with the tide
Keep your lure in the water,
In the waters of life
Chorus:
Yeah, Keep your lure in the water,
Don't just sit by the shore
There are souls to be caught
Everywhere in this old world
Go where hearts are plenty,
Don't just drift with the tide
Keep your lure in the water,
In the waters of life
Yeah, keep your lure in the water,
In the waters of life...
song performed by by Randy Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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