En.Citatepedia^®.ro

J-Home

These soft, round, green hills
Soothe my mind
Quiet my soul

I left them for the ocean
And some other hills

I saw whales and seals
Waves tossed my kayak
Winds threatened my schooner

Sunset at Campobello gloried my dinner
Granite boulders demanded climbing
Tide pools opened other lives to us

A sandy beach of ground up seashells
Gave us rocks and sand dollars
And time to chase the waves

The stiff, soft ocean air
Changed us for a moment
A day
A lifetime

These soft, round, green hills
Soothe my mind
Quiet my soul
Welcome me
Home

July 25,1997

poem by Marjorie DeBol DeFazio
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The Gippsland Hills

The hills of Gippsland were so green but that was in September
And songbirds piping happy songs as well I might remember
But now the Gippsland hills are gray since sun changed the grass colour
And though the sun shines hot today this countryside looks duller.

The Gippsland hills were green in Spring and grass growing winds were blowing
And all along the sunlit hills the wildering flowers were showing
And bell magpie piped his joyful notes and butcherbird was singing
And through those hills those happy hills the bushlark's voice went ringing.

The Gippsland hills the sunburnt hills grown lonelier and quieter
And like the shades of old man's hair they've turned a gray type whiter
The nearby creek in trickle flow, the birds have lost their voices
And not one of Nature's minstrels now on Gippsland hills rejoices.

The Gippsland hills the sunburnt hills have lost their Spring like colour
And though the sun shines hot today the Gippsland hills look duller
But Spring bring green to Gippsland hills Spring rains and soft winds blowing
And birds will sing on Gippsland hills and Gippsland creeks fast flowing.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Memories Of The Beach

We went to the beach to get wind in our hair
to stand on the sand and simply to stare.
To let the surf tickle toes and dampen our clothes
as we played 'run away'
from the wavelets at play.

We went to the beach to climb on the rocks
find cool shallow pools where we'd take of our socks,
and peer in the waters to see what we might find
that the waves of the sea,
had last left behind.

We went to the beach to find coloured shells
the kind that when placed to our ears
make the sound of the ocean appear,
and gathered rocks that we never would find
in the places we walked,
for most of the time.

We went to the beach and all that, we did find
and the smell of the salt refreshed our tired minds.
I'll never forget the laughter and sounds
and the freedom to run,
on that wet sandy ground.

We went to the beach my family and I
and there we were one,
with the ocean, the beach, and the sky.

poem by David Taylor
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In France

THE silence of maternal hills
Is round me in my evening dreams;
And round me music-making rills
And mingling waves of pastoral streams.

Whatever way I turn I find
The path is old unto me still.
The hills of home are in my mind,
And there I wander as I will.

poem by Francis Ledwidge
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I've Come Down to the Ocean

I've come down to the ocean;
The ocean great and wide,
Of pure blue span
And soft white sand
And the beach's crashing tide.

I've come down to the ocean;
The sea so black and queer
Of lightless dark
And fiercest shark,
Where even fearless fear.

I've come down to the ocean;
The waters I can't grasp,
Of strangest deep,
And sunless sleep,
Where the breathing may not gasp.

I've come down to the ocean;
To sing its sea-spray song,
Of salty brine
And waves that shine
Before I've been too long.

poem by Lizzy Anon
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Ocean

Here comes the ocean
And the waves down by the sea
Here comes the ocean
And the waves where have they been
Dont swim tonight my love, the sea is mad my love
Its known to drive men crazy
Malcolm has burned at sea, the castle it sits and reeks
The madness can make you hazy
But here come the waves
Down by the shore
Washing the rocks that have been here
Centuries or more
Down by the sea
Here come the ocean
And the waves down by the sea
Here comes the ocean
And the waves where have they been
Castles glowing at night, towers above out fright
Warlocks decapitating
Malcolm he lives on hate, serve your brain on a plate
Feasts on your mouth for dinner
But here come the waves
Down by the sea
Washing the eyes of the men
Who have died
Down by the sea
Here come the waves
Here come the waves
Here come the waves
Here come the waves

song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Truth Everlasting

ocean waves beating up against the beach
the cool water against my feet
faces in the rocks looking up to the sky
the ocean waves reaching forever high.
the seagulls flying in to land on the sand
as i reached over with my hand.
gently touching his soft white back
my mind racing faster-never letting up the slack
the reflections of times gone by
when life was young and not full of lies.
the only thing that ever seemed the same
was some faces and some names.
faces and names of a past gone by
as i looked up towards the sky.
trying to figure why the rock faces looked up
and what they could possibly see
as it all seemed very naked to me
when a thought came into my mind
as the ocean reflected off the sky.
the faces were looking up to see
god looking down unhappily.
of him seeing all of his creations
being all torn down.
of human life laying on the ground.
unhappiness all around and not one voice to be found
to tell the world of its mistakes and the lies we live are all fakes.
and now i see what is to be-his truth everlasting.

poem by Louis Rams
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He Miss The Old Town

He miss the old town by the ocean and he misses the smell of the sea
And in his moments of nostalgia in fancy he hear and see
The silver gulls above the wide beach in small flocks they call as they fly
And the soft pipings of the sooty oystercatchers echo in the clear morning sky.

He was a young man of the sixties and young men they age and grow old
All year round he rode the big surf waves in a wet suit to keep out the cold
Till he wandered far from the ocean fell in love, married and settled down
An ageing dad with teenage daughters he lives in a big inland Town.

He is out of practice for surfing and he lives far from the ocean shore
A champion young surfer of the sixties perhaps he will surf never more
You can take the man from the ocean but the ocean does not leave the man
Though far from the roar of the surf waves he well may live out his time span.

He miss the old town by the ocean though he now might feel a stranger there
A champion young surfer of the late sixties till lust for wander it took him to elsehwere
in his imaginings he rides the big waves and on his face the ocean spray
And at heart he is a coastal person though from there he lives far away.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Weekend away

The weekend we will go
past Gordonsbay
to Rooiels

and when the morning sun
just shows its head
and appear like a round ball

we will pick up circular green shells
on the beach
and stand alone
next to the mighty ocean

and you will put your fingers
right through one
and turn it round and around

and on the rocks
we will drink
cups of Mega coffee

while the tide goes out
and waves hit spitting
over the brown rocks.

When the sun is up
we will drive to Gordonsbay
to get a take away meal
somewhere there

and you will look
at the forsaken phantom house
and I will tell you
stories of lost love

and people finding each other
even after being dead
and at the Strand
we will rollick

and throw Frisbee
and will try and sent
your kite up
and that weekend
will last a lifetime

where we rent a room
at a guesthouse
next to the sea.

poem by Gert Strydom
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Hollywood Nights

Words and music by bob seger
She stood there bright as the sun on that california coast
He was a midwestern boy on his own
She looked at him with those soft eyes,
So innocent and blue
He knew right then he was too far from home he was too far from home
She took his hand and she led him along that golden beach
They watched the waves tumble over the sand
They drove for miles and miles
Up those twisting turning roads
Higher and higher and higher they climbed
And those hollywood nights
In those hollywood hills
She was looking so right
In her diamonds and frills
All those big city nights
In those high rolling hills
Above all the lights
She had all of the skills
Hed headed west cause he felt that a change
Would do him good
See some old friends, good for the soul
She had been born with a face that would her
Get her way
He saw that face and he lost all control
He had lost all control
Night after night, day after day, it went on and on
Then came that morning he woke up alone
He spent all night staring down at the lights of la
Wondering if he could ever go home
And those hollywood nights
In those hollywood hills
It was looking so right
It was giving him chills
In those big city nights
In those high rolling hills
Above all the lights
With a passion that kills
In those hollywood nights
In those hollywood hills
She was looking so right
In her diamonds and frills
All those big city nights
In those high rolling hills
Above all the lights
She had all of the skills

song performed by by Bob Seger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ocean is as one with the world

As I Stare out into the Sea,
I can feel the soft oceans breeze
the warmth from the sun
the grass dances with the whistling wind
the ocean is filled with thoughts
and mysteries,
I feel the cool water
the ocean is alive filled with lost souls
washing emotions up onto the shore
My feet sink in the softness of the sand
The ocean is made up of dreams
and achievements,
My mind lies in the heart of the ocean
The rocks are bones
Out in the open the waves settle and
wait for their attack,
I feel as one with the ocean
as the ocean feels like one
with the world.

poem by Izabelle Sheridan
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Bitter Green

Upon the bitter green she walked the hills above the town
Echo to her footsteps as soft as eider down
Waiting for her master to kiss away her tears
Waiting through the years
Bitter green they called her
Walking in the sun
Loving everyone that she met
Bitter green they called her
Waiting in the sun
Waiting for someone to take her home
Some say he was a sailor who died away at sea
Some say he was a prisoner who never was set free
Lost upon the ocean he died there in the mist
Dreaming of her kiss
Bitter green they called her
Walking in the sun
Loving everyone that she met
Bitter green they called her
Waiting in the sun
Waiting for someone to take her home
But now the bitter green is gone, the hills have turned to rust
There comes a weary stranger, his tears fall in the dust
Kneeling by the churchyard in the autumn mist
Dreaming of a kiss
Bitter green they called her
Walking in the sun
Loving everyone that she met
Bitter green they called her
Waiting in the sun
Waiting for someone to take her home

song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Out Of Exile

When I first came to this island
that I called by own name
I was happy in this fortress,
in my exile I remained
But the hours grew so empty
and the ocean sent her waves
In the figure of a woman
and she pulled me out to sea
Chorus
When you come down to take me home
send my soul away
When you come round you'll make me whole
send my soul away
On the altar of a sunrise
was a wedding in the waves
And inside her shown a young light
from her labor I was saved
Though I've traveled long in darkness
in her harvest I'm embraced
Chorus
When you come down to take me home
send my soul away
When you come round you'll make me whole
send my soul away
Now the spires and the gables
grow in orchards to the sky
And the blessings on my table
multiply and divide
Chorus
When you come down to take me home
send my soul away
Yeah when you come round you'll make me whole
send my soul away
Yeah when you come down to take me home
when you come round you'll make me whole
Yeah when you come round to take me home
Send my soul away
send my soul away
Send my soul away
send my soul away

song performed by by Audioslave
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Margaret's Song

Too soothe and mild your lowland airs
for one whose hope is gone:
I'm think of the little tarn,
Brown, very lone.

Would now the tall swift mists could lay
their wet grasp on my hair,
and the great natures of the hills
round me friendly were.

In vain! - for taking hills your plains
have spoilt my soul I think,
But would my feet were going down
Towards the brown tarn's brink.

poem by Lascelles Abercrombie
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Wish

I'd like to show your eyes the plains
And a forest green and ruddy,
Far off and soft
Under clear skies on the horizon,
Or some hills
With lovely slopes
So changing and supple and misty,
Seeming to melt in the sweetness of the air,
Either hills
Or forest.
I'd like
For you to hear
Strong, vast, deep, and tender,
The great dull voice of the sea
That moans
Like Love;
And once in a while
Right next to you,
In the interval,
I'd like you to hear
Right next to you
A dove
In the silence
Both soft and weak
Like Love a trifle in the shadows,
I'd like you to hear
The gushing of a spring
For your hands I'd like some flowers,
And for your steps
I'd like a little path, grassy and sandy
Going up a bit and coming down,
Turning and seeming
To approach the limits of silence.
A very little sandy path
Where your steps would leave faint marks,
Our steps
Together.

poem by Henri de Regnier
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Ocean

Here comes the ocean
And the waves down by the sea
Here comes the ocean
And the waves where have they been
Silver and black lit night, heres to a stealers night
An empty splendid castle
Glowering alone at night, the princess has had a fight
Madness seeks out a lover
And here come the waves
Down by the shore
Washing the soul of the body
That comes form the depth of the sea
Here comes the ocean
And the waves down by the sea
Here comes the ocean
And the waves where have they been
Dont swim tonight my love, the tide is out my love
Malcolms curse haunts our family
Odious loud and rich, ruler of filthy seas
Revel in heavens justice
And here come the waves
And save for a scream
Theres much like a song to be heard
In the wind that blows by the sea
Like the wind
Here come the waves
Here come the waves
Here come the waves
Here come the waves

song performed by by Velvet Underground
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In The Hills Of Shiloh

Have you seen Amanda Blaine in the hills of Shiloh
Wandering through the morning rain through the hills of Shiloh
Have you seen her at her door, listening for the cannon's roar
And a man who went to war from the hills of Shiloh

Have you heard her mournful cries in the hills of Shiloh
Have you seen her haunted eyes in the hills of Shiloh
Have you seen her running down searching through the sleeping
town
In her yellowed wedding gown in the hills of Shiloh

Have you seen her standing there in the hills of Shiloh
Wind a blowing through her hair in the hills of Shiloh
Listening for the sound of guns listening for the rolling drums
And a man who never comes to the hills of Shiloh

Have you heard Amanda sing in the hills of Shiloh
Whispering to her wedding ring in the hills of Shiloh
Hear her humming soft and low, poor Amanda doesn't know
'Twas ended forty years ago in the hills of Shiloh

poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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Oahu

Here on this island, summer never sleeps.
In the green valleys, smoke in cane-time drifts
With mist—frail tide that laps the chasmed deeps
Between the steep clean hills as the sea-tide
Once washed the silent hidden hollow rifts
And unseen valleys of its unborn bride.

Sea-bride, child of earth’s red molten womb,
Daughter of fire and chaos long since sleeping,
Who were the people that made your green hills bloom?
Wedded to the seas they were, like you;
From the dark sea, while you your watch were keeping,
They came to make their destined rendezvous.

The broad bare feet step forth on virgin sand,
And eyes raise to the green eternal hills:
Gray mist, green hills and fertile red-clay land,
Alone no more. The carefree caroling laughter
Drifts inland, where valley mist distills
The songs that shall be sung forever after.

poem by S.J. Fulton
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The Call of the Bush

Three roads there are that climb and wind
Amongst the hills, and leave behind
The patterned orchards, sloping down
To meet a little country town.

And of these roads I'll take the one
That tops the ridges, where the sun
Is tempered by the mountain-breeze
And dancing shadows of the trees.

The road is rough - but to my feet
Softer than is the city street;
And then the trees! - how beautiful
She-oak and gum - how fresh and cool!

No walls there are to hamper me;
Only in blue infinity
The distant mountain-ramparts rise
Beneath the broad arch of the skies.

And in that high place I shall hear
The wild birds' singing, soft and clear;
And horse-bells tinkling as of old
In amongst the wattles' gold

Far-off is the ocean tide;
But there across the country-side
Roll waves of bush that rise and fall
To break against the mountain-wall.

And every little farm is seen
An island in a sea of green;
And every little farm at night
Flings through the dark its beacon-light -

There in the silence of the hills,
I shall find peace that soothes and stills
The throbbing of the weary brain, -
For I am going home again.

poem by Dora Wilcox
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Sestina

I have come, alas, to the great circle of shadow,
to the short day and to the whitening hills,
when the colour is all lost from the grass,
though my desire will not lose its green,
so rooted is it in this hardest stone,
that speaks and feels as though it were a woman.

And likewise this heaven-born woman
stays frozen, like the snow in shadow,
and is unmoved, or moved like a stone,
by the sweet season that warms all the hills,
and makes them alter from pure white to green,
so as to clothe them with the flowers and grass.

When her head wears a crown of grass
she draws the mind from any other woman,
because she blends her gold hair with the green
so well that Amor lingers in their shadow,
he who fastens me in these low hills,
more certainly than lime fastens stone.

Her beauty has more virtue than rare stone.
The wound she gives cannot be healed with grass,
since I have travelled, through the plains and hills,
to find my release from such a woman,
yet from her light had never a shadow
thrown on me, by hill, wall, or leaves’ green.

I have seen her walk all dressed in green,
so formed she would have sparked love in a stone,
that love I bear for her very shadow,
so that I wished her, in those fields of grass,
as much in love as ever yet was woman,
closed around by all the highest hills.

The rivers will flow upwards to the hills
before this wood, that is so soft and green,
takes fire, as might ever lovely woman,
for me, who would choose to sleep on stone,
all my life, and go eating grass,
only to gaze at where her clothes cast shadow.

Whenever the hills cast blackest shadow,
with her sweet green, the lovely woman
hides it, as a man hides stone in grass.

poem by Dante Alighieri
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Rosebank

From the village of Rosebank the hills look so green
A beautiful country as fine as i've seen
A gem of the mountains on the higher ground
Is this quiet little village with hills all around.

In the Green Frog cafe i go back in time
A bard of the old school sat crafting his rhyme
His long hair and long beard seemed whiter than gray
And he sat in the cafe and wrote every day.

In the 'Green Frog' each morning for an hour or two
He sipped his coffee looking out on the view
He took in the beauty it came out in words
The green of the woods and the songs of the birds.

He sat in the cafe this maker of song
And sipped on his coffee and he thought hard and long
And he gazed on those mountains and song to him came
And he died old and poor though he lives on in fame.

And though the bard for long years has now lain with the dead
His verses survive and by many still read
And the mountains of Rosebank that gave him his rhyme
Are still green as ever unfaded by time.

poem by Francis Duggan
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