Shadow Of The River
As I look around under the shady trees breezy atop the river
Even as the shadows of the tree are seen in it like a mirrror
My curious nature got more of me as i ask myself where is the shadow of the river?
Why does it create shadow for other nature like itself and keep its own shadow hidden?
I said to myself as I look into the river, a glared around into the forest and its horror
And it becomes clear to me that Even the river brings calmness to evil wherever it finds itself.
So i found my answer.
The shadow of the river is in its calmness, the gentle flow that puts your heart to rest even when it overwhelms you.
Its contradiction to body temprature and yet so agreeable.
Under the shady leaves and the calmness around, i have found the shadow of the river.
poem by Yewande Adedokun
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Related quotes
Where Is The River?
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or somewhere else
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or hidden under the ground
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or safe inside the cave
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or still far away
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or up above the cloud
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or out of our reach
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or trickling on the rock
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or gathering in the pool
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or down over the cliff
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or just sight of illusion
Where is the river?
Is it here
Running in your eyes
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or sudden flood in the road
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lost River
Theres a lost river that flows
In a valley where no on e goes,
Where the wild waters rush
Rumbles deep in the hush.
Gone far from there now,
Lord Ill be back somehow
To where the lost river winds
In the shadow of the pines
Oh, lost river, now Im coming back
To the pot-belly stove, where the firewoods all stacked
Oh Quebec girl, go with me,
Oh my bell, my fleur de lis,
Where the lost river winds
In the shadow of the pines
Now every body knows
Where that lost river flows
Its someplace hes lost
Behind bridges that hes crossed
Well, hed like to return,
But his bridges are all burned
And hes much too far down
To return to higher ground
Oh, lost river, now Im coming back
To the pot-belly stove, where the firewoods all stacked
Oh Quebec girl, go with me,
Oh my bell, my fleur de lis,
Where the lost river winds
In the shadow of the pines
Oh lost river, far over ther ridge
Now is it too late for me to build me a new bridge?
To the bright golden time
When her love was still mine
And the world was still wild
Like the heart of a child
Oh, lost river, now Im coming back
To the pot-belly stove, where the firewoods all stacked
Oh Quebec girl, go with me,
Oh my bell, my fleur de lis,
Where the lost river winds
In the shadow of the pines
Where the lost river winds
In the shadow of the pines
song performed by by Nitty Gritty Dirt Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shadow Me
Shadow me oh my
Dark emotion.
Shadow me all the way!
Shadow me to rock
In cradle heart,
To sway and just to sway!
Shadow me as a
Shady love tree,
In my hot, scorching day!
Shadow me must in,
Middle of night,
Like a gleaming pure ray!
Shadow me, shadow,
My foggy love,
Shadow wild me to tame.
Shadow to follow
My every step,
Shadow me in each poem!
poem by Nilakshi Das
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A Man Who Knows Much About Nature
He has not been to college or uni and for so called success in life he does not have much to show
But about flora and fauna and Nature there is so much he seems to know
He knows all of the trees in the Parkland by the bark or the leaves that they wear
A man who knows much about Nature and for the health of Nature he care.
A man who knows much about nature by their songs the birds he recognize
He like the quiet place in the country far removed from human made noise
In the shadow of a tree by the river the sun shining bright in the sky
Listening to birds singing around him such moments of peace he enjoy.
He like places without man's buildings away from the noise of the street
A quiet place in Nature's own kingdom where the creek and the river meet
Where lark he is soaring and singing as upward and upwards he fly
He has been a student of Nature ever since he was a young school going boy.
A man who knows much about Nature and to Nature he remains true
And Nature needs all of her good friends for Nature's good friends are too few
The weekend finds him in a quiet place on a sunny day sitting by a tree
Near where the creek flows into the river the river that flows to the sea.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Right Across The River Bend
Right across the river bend there’s a warm gentle breeze.
Right across the river-bend are trees with yellow leaves.
Right across the river bend the water reflects the sun.
Right across the river bend is a smell of innocence.
Right across the river bend a robin’s egg is broken.
Right across the river-bend are peaceful mountain valleys.
Right across the river bend a dandelion is carried.
Right across the river bend are fields of shiny green grass.
Right across the riverbend are memories made to last.
poem by Alicia Page
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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At School
The bees are in the meadow
And the swallows in the sky;
The cattle in the shadow
Watch the river running by.
The wheat is hardly stirring;
The heavy ox-team lags;
The dragon-fly is whirring
Through the yellow-blossomed flag.
And down beside the river,
Where the trees lean o'er the pool,
Where the shadows reach the quiver
A boy has come to school.
His teachers are the swallow
And the river and the trees;
His lessons are the shallows
And the flowers and the bees.
poem by John Boyle O'Reilly
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Electric Eel Song
Ay! me one child Ay-eeee!
Ay! me one daughter
Take out you’ foot
From the black river water
Haul out you’ hand
Out the slow river water
Stay ‘pon the bank
Of the cold river water
Ay! me one daughter
Ay! me one child! Ay-eeee!
Electric eel
Is the eel in the river
Shadow ‘pon the bottom
Is the eel in the river
Something like you’ hand
Is the eel in the river
Swimming like you’ foot
Is the eel in the river
Ay! me one child Ay-eeee!
Ay! me one daughter
Foot after foot
Though the black river water
She can’t touch the bottom
Out the slow river water
Shirt like umbrella
In the cold river water
Ay! me one daughter
Ay! me one child! Ay-eeee!
Electric eel
Is the eel in the river
Cutlass shape
Is the eel in the river
Black blade or brown
Is the eel in the river
Dozing so quiet
Is the eel in the river
Ay! me one child Ay-eeee!
Ay! me one daughter
Slap of a tail
Through the black river water
Shiver like ague
Out the slow river water
As if she take cramp
Of the cold river water
Ay! me one daughter
Ay! me one child! Ay-eeee!
Electric eel
Is the eel in the river
No blood, just a thrill
Is the eel in the river
Lightning bold
Is the eel in the river
And she Drown now, she chilly
Is the eel in the river
Ay! me one daughter
Ay! me one child! Ay-eeee!
poem by Slade Hopkinson
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Free River
Free River flow, Free River
so cold, Free River
you’re getting old.
Free River don’t cry, Free River
you’ve run dry.
I still see you through my youth’s eyes.
Free River you told no lies, Free River
your path has been made, Free River
all things change.
Free River you made it to the sea.
The friends I swam with once
are now gone, left only me.
Free River you’re worth more than gold, Free River
I've grown old.
I’ve lived by you my whole life and
I’ve left my seed through my wife, Free River
I lie at your shore; now dry,
Free River it’s my time to die.
poem by Patrick Dumas
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Rip
It can't be the passing of time that casts
That white shadow across the waters
Just offshore.
I shiver a little, with the evening.
I turn down the steep path to find
What's left of the river gold.
I whistle a dog lazily, and lazily
A bird whistles me.
Close by a big river, I am alive in my own country,
I am home again.
Yes: I lived here, and here, and my name,
That I carved young, with a girl's, is healed over, now,
And lies sleeping beneath the inward sky
Of a tree's skin, close to the quick.
It's best to keep still.
But:
There goes that bird that whistled me down here
To the river a moment ago.
Who is he? A little white barn owl from Hudson's Bay,
Flown out of his range here, and, if he wants to,
He can be the body that casts
That white shadow across the waters
Just offshore.
poem by James Arlington Wright
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dry River Bed
The river- was, but died away,
leaving behind sand and stone,
a dry river bed.
The river that once led the way,
To Rameses throne,
Has no more life- dead.
The river from which reeds grew and swayed,
now dead and gone,
all that's left-a dry river bed.
The river that was marvelous by day,
and treacherous once the sun was gone,
is now but a dri river bed.
The river- beautiful, no words could say,
left behind - just a dry river bed.
poem by Esnala Banda
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The River of Blood
It’s the river of blood
Initiated by the enemies of God
And when advised too or told to stop
They just give you the nod
The nod of ignorance and cruelty
The nod of no life and no feel
As they are told about they’re evilness
They believe that none of it is real
It’s the river of blood
That flows down a dark and red stream
And as I dip my hand in, it feels like sour, bitter cream
It’s the river of blood
The river of cruelty and pain
The river of blood
The river that flows in vain
The river that will never end
The river full of the dead
The river where they remain silently hopeless
The river where the majority of them bled
It’s this river of blood where I inject my power and strength from
It’s this river full of blood where my victory will soon come
The river of blood, the river that will soon contain me
It’s this river where my blood has long sought to be
The river of blood that shall soon end with an atrocious fight
The river of blood, the river that will no longer stay at sight.
poem by Marria Attar
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Illume (9-11)
Illume says the candle that I burn
A reflection in the window
All the way to Point Dune
Illume-like it dances
I am a cliff dweller
From the old school
I like the coastal cities
I like the lights...
I like the way the ocean blends
Into the city at night
Like living on a working river
This coastline is glittering
Like a diamond snake
In a black sky
I'm alone now
With my thoughts
Of how we could make it
Of how we could get out
What we've been through
All of the trauma
The smell of Nag Champra
Shadow of a stranger
I will not take you for granted
I wouldn't trade you for jade
Or for diamonds
Not for one minute
Not for anything
I need you to be there
Just remember when I am haunted
That I was just so scared
I'm alone now
With my thoughts
Of how we could make it
Of how we could get out
What we've been through
All of the trauma
The smell of Nag Champra
Shadows of a stranger
What I saw on this journey
I saw history go down
I cannot pretend
That the heartache falls away
It's just like a river
Ooh, it's never ending
I cannot pretend
That the heartache falls away
Because it's just like a river
It's never ending
It's just like a river
It's never ending
I'm alone now
With my thoughts
Of how we could make it
How we could get out
What we've been through
And all of the trauma
The smell of Nag Champra
Shadow of a stranger
(What I saw on this journey... I saw history go down)
(I cannot pretend...that the heartache falls away)
(It's just like a river...ooh, it's never ending)
(I cannot pretend that the heartache falls away)
I'm alone now
With my thoughts
How we could make it
Of how we could get out
What we've been through
All of the trauma
The smell of Nag Champra
Shadows of the strangers
What I saw on this journey, what legends are made of
I cannot pretend that the heartache falls away
Just like a river, ooh, it's never ending
No, I cannot pretend that the heartache falls away
Because it's just like a river, it's never ending
Falls away...like a river, it's never ending...
La la la la... la la la la...
La la la la... la la la la...
song performed by by Fleetwood Mac
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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prayer-River Voyage
My voyage is also
Sometimes, on a river.
The river is gentler.
Here I have time,
As it slowly flows,
To wonder
At the lush vegetation
On its banks.
Sometimes it turns
And my heart pounds
In expectation
Of what is waiting
Round the corner.
I love the river,
Of my prayer
It carries me on
To new vistas.
Sometimes there are
Rapids in my river and
I struggle to come past them.
Yet the river is true to me and
Soon it becomes gentle again.
I can gather strength in its
Gentle flow and peaceful scenery.
poem by Mary Mc Creath
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The River of Rivers in Connecticut
There is a great river this side of Stygia
Before one comes to the first black cataracts
And trees that lack the intelligence of trees.
In that river, far this side of Stygia,
The mere flowing of the water is a gayety,
Flashing and flashing in the sun. On its banks,
No shadow walks. The river is fateful,
Like the last one. But there is no ferryman.
He could not bend against its propelling force.
It is not to be seen beneath the appearances
That tell of it. The steeple at Farmington
Stands glistening and Haddam shines and sways.
It is the third commonness with light and air,
A curriculum, a vigor, a local abstraction . . .
Call it, one more, a river, an unnamed flowing,
Space-filled, reflecting the seasons, the folk-lore
Of each of the senses; call it, again and again,
The river that flows nowhere, like a sea.
poem by Wallace Stevens
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River Feeling
River feeling is
As simple as
Closing your eyes
For a moment.
Everything flows like river
River feeling is
As smooth as
Everything after
The first step.
Everything flows like river
River feeling is
easy as forgetting
Walking boots.
Everything flows like river
River feeling is
nice as
iron ties
Coming off.
Everything flows like river
Everything flows like river
Everything flows like river
Everything is good and flows
like river
poem by Julian Mann
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Our Way At Giving Poetry A Contemporary Name
poetry is just a flow of the river, taking away what is floating there
everything, from the heart to the vastness of the sea,
you get carried, not just by the substance of the river in-itself,
but also of the sound of the flow so uniquely yours, unequaled even
by the perfection of those who were here ahead of you,
you get carried away, you become the river itself, the leaf, the sand,
the bubble, the fish, the twigs, the paper boat, the shadow of the clouds
the mirror of the sky, clear so clear, murky and so murky, you flow
to be one with the sea, the horizon, you become more and less,
you get carried away both with the bulk and the bulge and the budge,
you get carried away, you lose yourself with the wind, you hear all the
sounds, you talk and walk, and then you feel the happiness of the earth
and the sky and the whole of the galaxy.
There exists no borders of time. It is all space. Bliss.
There are no lessons, not even visions, there is only the universal lull.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Moonlight river.
moonlight river the eyes are shineing bright.
moonlight river love her with all you might.
moonlight river the darkness is falling.
moonligh river is there such thing off morning.
moonlight river makes my head sway.
moonlight river voice off the ocean on a sand beach bay.
moonlight river i think off her night and day.
moonlight river bring her back to me today.
moonlight river the star's are shineing bright.
moonlight river she is back with such delight.
moonlight river never let her go.
moonlight river tell her i love her so.
moolight river tear's in her eye.
moonlight river why did i have to die.
poem by Neil Derek Singleton
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Life Is Like A River
we give away like the way a river flows
day to day
we may start with the petals of the flowers
we let them fall one by one
to the flow of the river
then we begin again with the leaves and then
the twigs and the branches and then if we have
nothing more to give we give away the tree itself
to the flow of the river
we look at ourselves we give every part of us
piece by piece to the flow of the great river
our properties our honor our clothes and when all these
are given away we start to give back our hands, our feet
we look at every pocket of our senses and when everything
is given away we shall now give the last that we have to the flow
of this great river of life
we let flow our soul. we have given everything
sometimes we ask that we stay for a while, but this cannot be
the law of the great river of life is clear, we give everything away
slowly, willingly, until all the pain of giving is gone away
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The River, Grace
Lift me up,
Take me down
From my rack.
Suspended on meat hooks
Just under my shoulder blades,
The weight of me hangs.
The river comes to me.
The river flows on.
Grace wakes up,
Says, “I will watch with you
We will be watchers
Together.”
Take me down.
Let the river run
Through my wounds;
Cleanse;
Heal.
The river comes.
The river flows.
Wash out all the refuse;
Toxic trash flushed away
Forever from me
Clear
Free
The river comes.
The river flows.
Fill me up with goodness.
Purity, rush into these holes;
Saturate in light, then
Stop up the access,
Make me whole.
River, come to me.
River, flow on.
And the river is God’s Gift.
And the river is Grace.
Lay me new baptized
In the tall grass
On the bank
Let me hear
Talking light
Beat back the night.
They sing of your source,
Your redemption renowned.
Now I join the chorus.
And the river, God’s gift,
Lift me up.
And the river, Grace
Carry me on.
poem by Lee Ann Schaffer
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Dams On The Cuyahoga
Just west
of the Lake,
meanders
the burning river.
The river
in my dreams.
The river on fire.
The river
that oozes
rather than flows.
The river
in which
a person
does not drown
but decays.
And there
the river sits,
waiting for me
to come back home.
poem by Holden Solo
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