Related quotes: When little lights in little...

Evening

When little lights in little ports come out,
Quivering down through water with the stars,
And all the fishing fleet of slender spars
Range at their moorings, veer with tide about;

When race of wind is stilled and sails are furled,
And underneath our single riding-light
The curve of black-ribbed deck gleams palely white,
And slumbrous waters pool a slumbrous world;

--Then, and then only, have I thought how sweet
Old age might sink upon a windy youth,
Quiet beneath the riding-light of truth,
Weathered through storms, and gracious in retreat.

poem by Victoria Sackville-West
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Riding

IF I should live again,
O God, let me be young,
Quick of sinew and vein
With the honeycomb on my tongue,
All in a moment flung
With the dawn on a flowing plain,
Riding, riding, riding, riding
Between the sun and the rain.

If I, having been, must be,
O God, let it be so,
Swift and supple and free
With a long journey to go,
And the clink of the curb and the blow
Of hooves, and the wind at my knee,
Riding, riding, riding, riding
Between the hills and the sea.

poem by Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
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Early Works - Near The Close Of Day

The crimson sunset breezes
dawn lines across the water
as dinghies nudge their moorings
in the quiet of the evening.
We sit in stillness on a hillside
the world beneath our feet
a closing day before us
seems all within our reach.
The last forays of gulls,
across the quiet waters
way beneath our feet,
as time stand still around us.
The creatures of the daylight
find a place to sleep
we watch the beauty before us
change moment to moment.
Shadows creep across the landscape
near the closing of the day
soon night will be upon us
and the moon will send shafts of silver.
Across the stilled waters of our little bay,
we will retire to ours beds
and wait for the coming day
whose sunshine again
will warm the ground.

21 July 1995

poem by David Harris
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Egrets

Once as I travelled through a quiet evening,
I saw a pool, jet-black and mirror-still.
Beyond, the slender paperbarks stood crowding;
each on its own white image looked its fill,
and nothing moved but thirty egrets wading -
thirty egrets in a quiet evening.

Once in a lifetime, lovely past believing,
your lucky eyes may light on such a pool.
As though for many years I had been waiting,
I watched in silence, till my heart was full
of clear dark water, and white trees unmoving,
and, whiter yet, those thirty egrets wading.

poem by Judith Wright
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Safe Harbour

As the light starts to fade, at the end of the day,
And the last rays of sunset cascade on the bay.
The fishing boats set sail, their little lamps a glow,
Off to deeper waters and the school of fish below.
Along the granite, harbor wall, the lime washed cottage stands,
The little wind swept coastal path to the causeway and sands.
At the point a lighthouse giving out its light,
Protecting the wayward mariner as he sails on through the night.
For generations have come and gone, it’s always been that way,
As tide rolls in with the fishing boats that signals break of day.

poem by Nicholas Windle
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Off Shore

Rock, little boat, beneath the quiet sky,
Only the stars behod us where we lie, -
Only the stars and yonder brightening moon

On the wide sea to-night alone are we;
The sweet, bright summer day dies silently,
Its glowing sunset will have faded soon.

Rock softly, little boat, the while I mark
The far off gliding sails, distinct and dark,
Across the west pass steadily and slow.

But on the eastern waters sad, they change
And vanish, dream-like, gray, and cold, and strange
And no one knoweth whither they may go.

We care not, we, drifting with wind and tide,
While glad waves darken upon either side,
Save where the moon sends silver sparkles down

And yonder slender stream of changing light,
Now white, now crimson, tremulously bright,
Where dark the lighthouse stands, with fiery crown.

Thick falls the dew, soundless on sea and shore:
It shines on little boat and idle oar,
Wherever moonbeams touch with tranquil glow.

The waves are full of whispers wild and sweet;
They call to me, - incessantly they beat
Along the boat from stern to curvéd prow

Comes the careering wind, blows back my hair,
All damp with dew, to kiss me unaware,
Murmuring "Thee I love," and passes on.

Sweet sounds on rocky shores the distant rote;
O could we float forever, little boat,
Under the blissful sky drifting alone!

poem by Celia Thaxter
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Rough God Goes Riding

Oh the mud splattered victims
Have to pay out all along the ancient highway
Torn between half truth and victimisation
Fighting back with counter attacks
Its when that rough God goes riding
When the rough God goes gliding
And then rough God goes riding
Riding on in
I was flabbergasted by the headlines
People in glasshouses throwing stones
Gaping wounds that will never heal
Now theyre moaning like a dog in a manger
Its when that rough God goes riding
And then the rough God goes gliding
Therell be nobody hiding
When that rough God comes riding on in
And its a matter of survival
When youre born with your back against the wall
Wont somebody hand me a bible
Wont you give me that number to call
When that rough God goed riding
And then that rough God goes gliding
Theyll be nobody hiding
When that rough God goes riding on in
Riding on in
When that rough God goed riding
When that rough God goes gliding
Therell be nobody hiding
When that rough God goes riding on in
Riding on in
Therell be no more heroes
Theyll be reduced to zero
When that rough God goes riding
Riding on in
Riding on in
Riding on in
Riding on in

song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Illuminate

My dearly beloved shadow of light;
My light when the day is dead
Receive and keep me in your brazier,
Receive me your resident lost.

The gorgeous light that illuminate earth evermore,
Like a wide open, sleepless eye forever
The light whose breath is fire;

Oh, master over the ever darkening night,
Sometimes, I reach to touch you;
Will I burn, or be bright as day?
With your light other lights illuminate
And returns to their first position
Like triangular stars before the fall

Like the light that extinguishes thenight;
Smooth as a king's way,
Riding in your chariot ever shinning;
With your light I am blest.
Who shall behold you my ideal light?
The stream from which bright waters flow
Those abiding in your light most holy
My guerdon is a noble fame; for

To turn away from you is the beginning of death.

poem by Chime Justice Ndubuisi
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The Fishing Village From Across The Bay

The quiet solitude
of brown fishing boats,
anchors weighed,
riding gently, the soft
movement of the calm waters.

Silent slapping. As the waves
kiss the sides of the boats,
their masts tall and strung
with spiderweb riggings.
Loose canvas flaps idly with
the passing of a breeze,
tugging against the anchor.

Tiredly, the sun continues
its slow journey home, reaching
honey-gold fingers of warmth
through the blanket of clouds.
The orb of power-filled
light-giving energy gives one last
defiant flash as it breaks momentarily
through the clouds.

A dog barks from across the bay
and white puffs of smoke
rise slowly, lazily to meet
the clouds. The sleepy village
readies itself for the sleep
that will bring the new day,
and the sun, rested
from its duties of the day before.

The waves continue to lap
gently against the fishing boats,
Silhouetted gently against the
golden stretch of water from across the bay.

Silence sets in and prayers are
said before bed, and good night
kisses are exchanged and
then the lights are extinguished,
from across the bay.

poem by Kevin Parkin
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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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Five Images

I
A naked body
bronze as the sun
poises against the sky
to dive,
then flings his form
into the tide,
parting waters
without a splash,
like the day sliding
beneath the sky.

II
The day is sliding
beneath the sky,
slipping away soundlessly,
like a diver
parting waters without a splash.

III
The bronze that tanned his body
slips below the lip of earth,
as bit by bit blue turns to gray;
And the sea darkens as it swallows
the single diver and the sun.

IV
The day drains
beneath the sky
as the lip of earth
fuses with and enters
the blue-gray parted waters
of the eastern sky,
and stars bit by bit
find their light.

V
The sun beneath the sky
so silently sank away,
I had not noticed its descent,
until I rubbed my eyed from strain
and turned on the light.

poem by Lillian Susan Thomas
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Ride It

I'll be riding it
I'll be riding it
Wanna make some music
To take me in and out of my head
Get into my groove
In time with my body instead
And when the bass kicks in
I can feel my song beginning
Boy your lovin gets me high
'Cause you're the only one
Who can pump it loud the way I like
You're a DJ I'm a song
Take me out and turn me on
Let yourself go
Ah you're riding it
Chicas bumping to the beat
From the side and underneath
Yeah my body's where this party's at
I'll be riding it
When you're spinning in
I'll be riding it
Hes a little rude and nasty
His tempo is an overload
He gets jiggy with it here
But all I wanna do is vogue
And when the bass kicks in
I can dance like no one's watching
It's a funny kind of feeling
'Cause you're the only one
Who can pump it loud the way I like
You're a DJ I'm a song
Take me out and turn me on
Let yourself go
I'll be riding it
Chicas bumping to the beat
From the side and underneath
Yeah my body's where this party's at
I'll be riding it
When you're spinning in
I'll be riding it
When you're spinning in
I'll be riding it
And when the bass kicks in
I can dance like no one's watching
It's a funny kind of feeling
'Cause you're the only one
Who can pump it loud the way I like
You're a DJ I'm a song
Take me out and turn me on
Let yourself go
I'll be riding it
Chicas bumping to the beat
From the side and underneath
Yeah my body's where this party's at
I'll be riding it
You're a DJ I'm a song
Take me out and turn me on
When you're spinning in
I'll be riding it
Chicas bumping to the beat
From the side and underneath
Turn me on
When you're spinning in
I'll be riding it
When you're spinning in
I'll be riding it
When you're spinning in
I'll be riding it
I'll be riding it

song performed by by Geri Halliwell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Ship of Oak

When the bow-waves race through the foam
and aft are the boiling trails,
What ship is that in the fading light
with the press and the wind in her sails?
When the salvo flashes through the smoke
and the stricken cruisers reel,
Behold a pennoned ship of oak
That leads the ships of steel!

Through storms of lashing hail
When the green swells life and gleam,
What sailor now commands the Fleet?
The Captain of a dream:
When battle thunders to the shock
Or while the gulls go swerving by,
He leads the Fleet in a ship of oak,
One arm and blinded eye.

poem by Herbert Asquith
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The Pirate's Bride

Sometimes in the light at the edge of the world
Is the ghost of a ship with it's black sail furled
And night after night she would stand on the shore
And dream of the love that she knew before
The tide rolls out, the tide rolls in
Without a thought for the ways of men
We set sail for the Spanish Main
To rob the ships of the Queen of Spain
And she would be his pirate's bride
She gave him the pistol and the sword at his side
The tide rolls out, the tide rolls in
Without a care for the ways of men
I'd give three ships of Spanish gold
To see my love again
Full fathom five my true love lies
In a fine wooden casket with gold on his eyes
Where is the glory and where is the pride?
Where is the joy for the pirate's bride?
The tide rolls out, the tide rolls in
Without a care for the ways of men
Here in the light at the edge of the world
He'd wait for a ship with it's black sail furled
And day after day he would stand on the shore
And dream of the life that they knew before
The tide rolls out, the tide rolls in
Without a care for the ways of men
I'd give three ships of Spanish gold
To see my love again

song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Water Of The Flow-tide

the syllabus of the balcony
continues

the black-blossom just beneath your chick
can’t be extinguished

the waves
that are moving with their own axes
smile to the eyes
to make me more adult

the water of the flow tide
works for the whole day

at the end of the day it carries to home
five grains of the buds of the lotus
to maintain livelihood

the dew-drops
accumulating in the womb of the poetry
also want to change some warmth

riding on the football of 2-30 at night
the vermillion of the full-moon
on your forehead
all on a sudden
takes a sip
in the fishing-net of the tennis-man

poem by Murari Sinha
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Durer: Innsbruck, 1495

I had often, cowled in the slumbrous heavy air,
Closed my inanimate lids to find it real,
As I knew it would be, the colourful spires
And painted roofs, the high snows glimpsed at the back
All reversed in the quiet reflecting waters –
Not knowing than that Durer perceived it too.
Now I find that once more I have shrunk
To an interloper, robber of dead men’s dreams,
I had read in books that art is not easy
But no one warned that the mind repeats
In its ignorance the vision of others. I am still
The black swan of trespass on alien waters.

poem by James Phillip McAuley
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song performed by by George Strait
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Golden Journey

All day he drowses by the sail
With dreams of her, and all night long
The broken waters are at song
Of how she lingers, wild and pale,
When all the temple lights are dumb,
And weaves her spells to make him come.

The wide sea traversed, he will stand
With straining eyes, until the shoal
Green water from the prow shall roll
Upon the yellow strip of sand -
Searching some fern-hid tangled way
Into the forest old and grey.

Then he will leap upon the shore,
And cast one look up at the sun,
Over his loosened locks will run
The dawn breeze, and a bird will pour
Its rapture out to make life seem
Too sweet to leave for such a dream.

But all the swifter will he go
Through the pale, scattered asphodels,
Down mote-hung dusk of olive dells,
To where the ancient basins throw
Fleet threads of blue and trembling zones
Of gold upon the temple stones.

There noon keeps just a twilight trace;
Twixt love and hate, and death and birth,
No man may choose; nor sobs nor mirth
May enter in that haunted place.
All day the fountain sphynx lets drip
Slow drops of silence from her lip.

To hold the porch-roof slender girls
Of milk-white marble stand arow;
Doubt never blurs a single brow,
And never the noon's faintness curls
From their expectant hush of pride
The lips the god has glorified.

But these things he will barely view,
Or if he stay to heed them, still
But as the lark the lights that spill
From out the sun it soars unto,
Where, past the splendors and the heats,
The sun's heart's self forever beats.

For wide the brazen doors will swing
Soon as his sandals touch the pave;
The anxious light inside will wave
And tremble to a lunar ring
About the form that lieth prone
Before the dreadful altar-stone.

She will not look or speak or stir,
But with drowned lips and cheeks death-white
Will lie amid the pool of light,
Until, grown faint with thirst of her,
He shall bow down his face and sink
Breathless beneath the eddying brink.

Then a swift music will begin,
And as the brazen doors shut slow,
There will be hurrying to and fro,
And lights and calls and silver din,
While through the star-freaked swirl of air
The god's sweet cruel eyes will stare.

poem by William Vaughn Moody
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At This Great Distance

Memory
Ancient light from a binary star
Bends across a receeding tide
A single point of light st this great distance
At this great distance only the eye
Pressed against the telescope of dreams
Sees two stars
Two stars, two white hot lines on a firey white
Spinning madly on lines defined
By each others gravity.
And by the time we see
The light of memory
There is no hope
Theres no hope
Only memory
They danced to songs
Played at the speed of light
Red shifting
Untouchable
At this great distance two stars, two souls
Become one single point of light
Not hot
Not cold
Not you
Not me
Only memory
Chorus
Only memory - at this great distance
(repeat to end

song performed by by Level 42
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lightning

Its crazy but often clear
But often clear
We shimmer and disappear
In color, in black and white
Black and white
We slowly fade out of sight
But these days were lit by lightning
These lights all were white
Its crazy but somehow clear
Somehow clear
We ride in silence out of fear
We spoke and soon come alive
Come alive
We prefer the silence of the blind
But these days were lit by lightning
These lights all were white
These days were lit by lightning
Of sharp,light,sharp,white,light,hard,good,white
Were crazy but often kind
Often kind
Enrage and in violence blind
You gather, and that alone
That alone
We race in small circles home
But these days were lit by lightning
These lights are were white
These days were lit by lightning
Of sharp, white, light
These days were lit by lightning
These lights are were white
These days were lit by light

song performed by by Counting Crows
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Evening

Related quotes

Riding

Early Works - Near The Close Of Day

Egrets

Safe Harbour

Off Shore

Rough God Goes Riding

Stars On The Water

Illuminate

The Fishing Village From Across The Bay

Subterranean for M lady Deana

Five Images

Ride It

The Ship of Oak

The Pirate's Bride

Water Of The Flow-tide

Durer: Innsbruck, 1495

Stars On The Water

The Golden Journey

At This Great Distance

Lightning

En.Citatepedia®.ro

Evening

Related quotes

Riding

Early Works - Near The Close Of Day

Egrets

Safe Harbour

Off Shore

Rough God Goes Riding

Stars On The Water

Illuminate

The Fishing Village From Across The Bay

Subterranean for M lady Deana

Five Images

Ride It

The Ship of Oak

The Pirate's Bride

Water Of The Flow-tide

Durer: Innsbruck, 1495

Stars On The Water

The Golden Journey

At This Great Distance

Lightning

En.Citatepedia^®.ro