Related quotes: Tides are high Tides are...

For a Good Cause and Care

Tides are high
Tides are deep
With a sigh
I cannot sleep,
Thinking of my long hair
I wish I could keep.
To cut it I would not dare
For I know it is a part of me.
However I know that hair
Grows back within each week
And I know I have the heart to share.
Even though for a moment I will weep,
It is for a good cause and care,
For my hair will grow back everytime I sleep
Just as much as tides are high
Tides are deep
Even if they go away in a chime,
They come back and up the beach they creep
Every day and for all of time.
So I know I can always keep
My hair for it will grow as tides do each time
As the seas swells and heaves as it sleeps.

poem by Music Galore
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Related quotes

My Father He Was A Fisherman

MY father he was a fisherman,
That wrought at the break o' day,
And hither and thither the long tides ran
I' the long blue bay.

'The tides go up and the tides go down,
But what do you know of the sea ?'
Her voice, i' the long gray streets o' the town,
Is singing to me.

'What do you know of the sails at dawn,
What of the shell-white foam ?'
Cheerly and sweet, from a world withdrawn,
They are calling me home.

'What is the grief you fain would tell
When your eyes are turned on me ?'
O, well it was taught and I learned it well,–
The grief o' the sea.

'Where do you travel and where do you sleep,
Where shall you take your rest ?'
At the inn that shelters my father, deep
I' the seas o' the west.

poem by Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
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Winthrop

When we get back to winthrop
A few miles from the airport
On a plastic chair
On a deck where my friends live
I watch the taking off airplanes
I watch the ocean waves crashing
With all of this movement somethings got to give
Down at the high tide
Passed down through the family
The fishermen gather to complain about the catch
They talk about time
They talk about tides
The pull of the moon and the coffee deep night black
And I listen to them
And I listen to you
And for everyone there is something never coming back
But for all that weve been through
For all that weve promised
Your wayward direction seems insensible
Words fall off like breathless fish
All flopping and scattered
And hearts picked over deemed dispensible
Down at the high tide
Were there for our last meal
The broken loaves are still enough for all
And we talk about time
And we talk about tides
Under the moon with the deep night coffee black
I hear the dim roar of the last flight out
And for someone there is someone never coming back
We talk about time
We talk about tides
Under the moon and the deep night coffee black
I hear the dim roar of the last flight out
And for someone there is someone never coming back

song performed by by Indigo Girls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Victim Of love

With the chilly winter winds blowing,
I have become the victim of love again.
Now I know that no two winters are the same,
and the tides of time I can’t tame.

With the ruthless cold winter coming,
I can feel the warmth of your love waning.
Now I know that no two winters are the same,
and to the tides of time I can’t blame.

With the dark winter nights falling,
I still walk beneath those street lights.
Now I know that no two winters are the same,
and the tides of time I can’t name.

With the silent winter days brightening,
I still listen to our rhyme.
Now I know that no two winters are the same,
and the tides of time I can’t claim.

With the infant winter dawn breaking,
I always hope against the hope.
Now I know that no two winters are the same,
and the tides of time I can’t make it the same.

poem by Sonam Tobgay
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Woman In Child

'Oh, woman in child
What dare do you dare;
The wind's in its warren
The rain's in your hair,
The tides of the spirit
Are tides of the moon,
What mysteries ferret
Sweet love in your womb.'

'Womb-woman in child,
What witch do you wear;
Sad King's in his carriage
Wild spell's in the air,
Such wonder has pealed
From you never before,
My child's in your bracken;
My heart's on your shore.'

6 November 1976

poem by David Lewis Paget
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The Rising Tides

He who has lived in a bed of roses
can never know the plight
of all the things that can make life hell
or how it is to fight
to stay afloat in a sinking boat
when the tides are rising high.

These things that are commonplace scenes for some
don't touch the bed they're in.
They spend their whole lives in luxurious riches
and always seem to win.
Divorced from reality they cannot see
when the tides are rising high.

But the tides are rising for all of us,
the wealthy and the poor.
And there's no mountain that is high enough
to escape the rising shore.
So in the end all things will be evened
and both will sink or float.
For all will find that the bed of roses
makes not a sturdy boat.

poem by Edwina Reizer
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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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Soft As Heaven

Your arms of the Taj Mahal
You capture the drowning feathers
Red crinoline rainbows
Norway pines sighing in the Rockies
Sky with visitors
Venus has winds of fire
Buffalo like ghosts of the plains
We ride the crest of the tides
Slow rhythmic mystic tides
Gather the philodendrons
Dream on golden fields
Sing in the honey meadows
Breeze with fingers of poetry
Dreams sing like crystal rivers
Radiant cardinals on the boughs
Robins share such hope
Children laugh like islands
Night brings a gracious dawn
The sheets still have star dust
I love to hold you
I love to awake with you next to me
Inspired to be a better man
You sleep like a honeymoon
Your hair as soft as heaven

poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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How can you sleep like sleeping?

You can not ever sleep like sleeping
Only seeing in the deep and endless sky
Taking deep sigh and drinking poison
With your all arrogance and pride high
In your eyes I see the waves of the ocean
Making low and high tides with the sound
Of roaring and with a raw burning, the Pacific
Left calm less and to raise trouble ruffled
Writhing with unbearable pain heart and spleen
How can you sleep like sleeping?

When you close your eyes you see the bird
Can not fly with an arrow pierced the heart
On the ground helpless lie, when you open
Your eyes, see, pain has been washed away
By the little drops of the dew of the night.
The more unknown becomes the world,
The known face moves strange around.
From the wounds blood still dripping
How can you sleep like sleeping?

poem by Abdul Wahab
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Tides of Life

As the tides of life ebb and flow, you dear friend, may never know,
What the tides will bring your way, as they change from day to day.
This life and all its uncertainty, can change the path of you and me,
And as we journey upon life’s tide, we need an anchor by our side.

You need an anchor in your heart, for your soul that will not depart,
An anchor for every single tide, that keeps you secure deep inside.
Life’s tides can become high or low, no matter where in life you go,
This life can even bring a drought, filling a heart with fears or doubt.

Even when life brings a high tide, one needs to have an inner guide,
One guide to lead you from above, should the tide become a flood.
Friend, during any flood in your life, you can rely upon Jesus Christ,
Who calmed the wind and the sea, can calm a heart for you and me.

He can save you from all harms, taking you in His everlasting arms,
As God places both you and me, upon Christ, The Rock of Eternity.
The Rock that anyone can know, wherever the tides of life may flow,
As it is The Lord’s amazing Grace, that reaches down to every place.

God will save you from life’s flood, through the power of the blood,
Shed for all nations by Jesus Christ, to purchase for all Eternal Life.
And it is that tide from Calvary, which reaches men like you and me,
So that we can live forevermore, upon Christ’s golden Eternal shore.

poem by Bob Gotti
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Elongated Hair

She 'done gone and did it'
She pulled it out
The elongated hair on my side
Oh how I did pout

It had grown long before
Back in earlier days
I had kept it short myself
using several different ways
After time had gone by
I wanted to let it grow
I decided to give it a try
and become a freak show

I'd let it grow down to my hips
or maybe to my knees
this hair could grow up to my lips
or at least to my kidneys

She'd noticed it that day in passing
while feeling 'round my tummy
I had thought she'd just been sassing
She said, 'I'll cut it off you dummy'

I did protest then to her notion
It smelled of sheer butchery
To cut of this hair in such a motion
would be a crime to both it and me!

Then came the day when it happened
While I lay in her bed so quietly
The life of my hair would come to an end
with a tug from her hand so quickly

I had mourned it for a moment
and I'm sure I looked sad
whatever had been her intent
I told myself it could not be bad

So now it has another chance
to begin a life anew
Elongated hair please do advance
Again I'd like to see you.

poem by Sean Furlong
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Drowning

Everything is so complex
Everyday is like a test full of opsticals
That almost seem impossible

And I'm thinking just another breath not a minute left.
How long have I been drinking?

Pass the glass pint hit the flash light now break it.
People say I'm a star but I still think ill never make it.

And I'm thinking just another prayer not a second left.
I feel there's something missing

Sometimes I hate that chaos surrounds me when all the answers I see go around me.
Am I drowning?
Am I fading away?
OR am I living up to all your dreams that made me this way?
Am I drowning?
Am I drowning?
Am I drowning?
Am I drowning?

I've been to hell and back looking for the answers to life.
Looking at myself trying to get things right.

And I'm feeling just another breath not a minute left.
I feel the darkness lifting.

There was a time
That I questioned if Id ever be alright.
Running getting high staying trapped by sleepless nights.

And I'm thinking just another breath not a minute left.
I feel there's something missing.

I'm running from myself and all the things I don't like.
Living every night like it's the last night.

And I'm thinking just another prayer not a second left.
I need to stop resisting.

Drowning in the drama lost in the lies trapped by the currents of life caught in the rip tides.

Am I drowning?
Am I drowning?
Am I drowning?
Am I drowning?

Drowning in the drama lost in the lies trapped by the currents of life caught in the rip tides.

song performed by by Crazy Town
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Whatever The Tides

Give The Lord time and space, to fill a heart with His Grace,
To calm a heart filled with fear, knowing God is always near,
Knowing no matter what the tide, in your heart He will abide,
Knowing truly within your heart, that The Lord will not depart.

At Christmas time we often sing, about tidings He will bring,
Good tidings of joy to all men, especially those Born Again,
For that is why Christ came, so all could embrace His Name,
To accept His great Salvation, that He offers to every nation.

The tides of this life, we know, here upon earth ebb and flow,
As those tides change for me, changeless is God of Eternity,
The Lord God and Creator, Who came down to be my Savior,
My Lord is my provider too, and all tides He sees me through.

Whether tides are rough or calm, I am securely in God’s Palm,
Nothing takes me from His Hand, as my Lord helps me stand,
Amidst the shifting sands of life, I’ll stand firm in Jesus Christ,
While on The Rock of Eternity, The Lord God provides for me.

Friend, at any time any place, The Lord will provide His Grace,
With tidings of joy and peace, within a heart, that won’t cease,
Throughout this life I’m assured, in all times by Christ my Lord,
Whether in need or prosperity, my Lord is The God of Eternity.

poem by Bob Gotti
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Aging Gracefully

You asked if I'd still love you if you lost all of your hair
Your baldness seems a tragedy: you want more fullness there.
It's strange the way we always wish for what we seem to lack
And anything that goes away is what we'd welcome back.

But hair-well that might be a different story all together
We grow it long or cut it short depening on the weather.
In time, it seems to him there's no such thing as too much hair
She spends her evenings waxing and goes shopping for more Nair.

It really is amusing as we old folks go to bed
She has too much; he has too little hair upon his head.
Perhaps a doctor may invent a way we all can win
By building him a grand toupee with hair plucked from her chin.

poem by Suzanne McNamee
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Call It Eternity

kiss me, dammit!
just for a moment
i want to feel
like i'm still real

close your eyes
and lay with me
your heart beating
as rhythmic as the sea

tides going out,
tides coming in
salt spray on your face!

let the night last forever
i dont care to see the dawn
i've seen forever in the softness
of your eyes undressed with want.

love me,
then close my eyes,
and call it eternity!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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Ask 2: Take your place in the tapestry of life.

It only happens once, play your part, as best you can
Who can ask anymore of you than that you tried, failed still
its no surprise to me that they would always hold us down.

Get your head out of the clouds, you’d hear them say,
Then running circles shadow play.

A return to the elemental, a state of calm,
Slip in lucid tides, hide away behind a wave of passion,
Ride the wheel, turn back the tides,
Tell me how you feel is this reality for you,
I don’t know what it is no more.

Open up the doors of perception, clear the mind of impurities,
Drift away in placid calms, I wont do you know harm babe,
It’s beyond me to do so to think like a genius, to act like a fool.

Turn it all in, back again, another point of view
Another face you thought you knew.
Tell me, tell me true, is it me you love babe or is it you.

Sometimes when I look at you, I feel your holding back a flood of tears.
Building me up to break me down after all these years.
Leaving me wondering, how could they do it to me?
Why would they do it to me?

Take your place in the tapestry of life.
Within you lies eternal youth,
What more proof could you need
Than the hedonism, that you feed
Close your eyes, just slip outside the box.

Take a walk, we’ll talk a while
Sit, lay back with a smile.

It wasn’t much man, but it came on strong.

Tranquil skies, calmer tides
Nothing left to hide.

One more chance to re arrange, to once more dance the night a flame.

poem by David Lacey
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Tides of the Latter Rain

The high tides sweep the soul
Washed with golden branches of joy
Ships of Orpheus sail
Decadence has blended
We can be Holy
Your silk is smooth as kisses
Great wet kisses of magnolia serpents
Blue green sea with bright waves

Prayer rises like ancient fire
Time is a muse of Eve
I am the walls of agates
Rocks cleansed by the tide
Eagles come again to my dreams
Your rings are wet
You think of me like a sword
You are a child of the prophet Joel

The tides of the latter rain come again

poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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Summer To Winter

summer to winter
and spring to fall
things will change
everything rearranged
people will shift
relationships drift
but things that are known
the love that is shown
will help you through
as things change
others stay the same

the sun will shine
things will grow
tides will rise
and stars will glow

just because some things aren't the same
doesn't mean everything will change
just look to the skyy.
or watch the falling tides
and find hope in the things you know.

poem by Jackie Lynn
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Life - 2

We float with the tides of time,
Dance with boundless joy
At the crest of waves...
Sometimes the mind plunges deep down
At the darkened trough
Where long sadness seems
To grow longer...
Stretched out hands seek more
To stay afloat.

Driven by an unquenched thirst,
Tangled up in many,
Engaged in an endless struggle,
Do we really know
Where are we heading to?

The shore awaits...
We will be thrown onto it one day.
It's a world of eternal peace.
All that we held all along,
Would simply float away
With the tide of illusory world.

When I look back and see,
It's a pain which grows within me;
Nothing, that I had offered to this world.
An existence thus will wash away
Will I ever let it be?

poem by Kingshuk Chakraborty
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Hairbrush

how i wish my fingers were the bristles
or my breath were the wind when it whistles
thru your hair, thru your hair

i wish you'd hold me in your hands
and let me skate thru all the strands
of your hair, of your hair

i could style it anyway you like it
i could brush it straight or even spike it
au contraire! au contraire!

or i would wait patiently in my box
until next i would comb the locks
of your hair, of your hair

i would braid it tight, tousle, and tease!
or pull it back in a ponytail, if you please;
if you dare, if you dare

how often is it a man confesses
that he wish to run barefoot thru the tresses
of your hair, of your hair?

you may think me a little touch'd
but can i tell you just how much
i hate your hairbrush?

this obsession may be zealous
but can i tell you just how jealous
i am of your hairbrush? !

poem by Rev. Dr. A. Jacob Hassler
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Weak minds sink under prosperity as well as adversity; but strong and deep ones have two high tides.

quote by David Hare
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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