Related quotes: The good old Powlett river...

The Good Old Powlett River

The good old Powlett river so very old in time
Has been sketched by famous artists and has inspired the bards to rhyme
From the hills above Kilcunda it flows downland to the sea
Centuries before the first Australians came down to the South Country,
The good old Powlett river will flow down forever more
From the hills above Kilcunda to the great Pacific shore
By the sandhills near saltwater where the surf waves one can hear
The good old Powlett river to my heart is ever dear,
Out of the sunshine by powlett river in the shadows of the trees
Centuries ago the first Australians danced their corroborees
The people like Nature's Seasons to life they come and go
But the good old Powlett river forever it will flow
From the hills above Kilcunda babbling on down to the sea
It will babble on forever century on century.

poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes

The Gippsland Hills Are Greener

The Powlett river downland go whispering towards the sea
And butcherbird is piping on sunlit wattle tree
And silver gulls are calling along the Gippsland shore
I love you my dear Country each day i love you more.

The English Land is greener some have been known to say
And English birds sing sweetly in leafy woods of may
But Gippsland hills are greener the greenest i have seen
And Aussie bird sing sweetly where woods are evergreen.

I've been to Indonesia and I've visited Japan
And I've had cake and coffee with wealthy Asian man
With wealthy men of London i have been out to tea
But bold men of Australia appeal far more to me.

I work for London company for influential co
And all my friends are wealthy and wealthy men i know
I once was middle class girl from Korumburra Town
And dad worked for demolition co knocking old buildings down

The English fields are greener the English proudly say
But I've lived in a greener Land thousands of miles away
Where Powlett river downland goes whispering towards the sea
And butcherbird is piping on sunlit wattle tree.

poem by Francis Duggan
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An August Day In South West Gippsland

The weather rather chilly it is cold enough to snow
And the flat paddocks under water where the Powlett river overflow
And even in the distance one can hear the ocean roar
As the tide up the beach races and splash on rocks along the shore.

Yet the magpie he is fluting on this gray August day
He and his wife are nest building Spring cannot be far away
And though rain is in the forecast and in the freshening breeze
The wattlebirds are cackling on the flowering banksia trees.

Between Dalyston and Kilcunda flooded paddocks all around
And sheep and cattle from the flooding have moved to the higher ground
And though the weather not that pleasant Spring with every day draws near
And September is so lovely in the Southern Hemisphere.

An August day in South West Gippsland the air has a wintery chill
And a flooded Powlett river it flows bank high down the hill
And though the sky looks gray and gloomy and the rain in drizzle fall
The magpie he is singing and the spur winged plover call.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Killarney In Victoria

Killarney in Victoria a place that has a soul
The white waves on the sunlit beach how beautifully they roll
October at it's finest the sunshine in the sky
And the silver gulls are calling as above the waves they fly.

In killarney in Victoria by the Pacific sea
The grey shrike thrush is whistling on a coastal banksia tree
On the second week of October in the prime of the Spring
The rumblings of the ocean near where wild birds chirp and sing.

Killarney in Victoria has a beauty all of it's own
And though I've been to many places tis as fine as I've seen or known
Above the flat green paddocks the skylark is in song
Through Spring and early Summer he carols all day long.

Killarney in Victoria even old in the Dreamtime
Has been sketched by famous artists and has inspired the bards to rhyme
Where the white waves of saltwater roll up the sandy shore
In a place that has been forever and will be forever more.

poem by Francis Duggan
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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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The Great Merri River

Through the old brown paddocks it flows night and day
The great Merri river from here far away
Through the coastal lands of Warrnambool on it's way to the sea
Older than the age of the Dinosaurs it pre-dates history.

It has flowed for millions of centuries of time
The river that has inspired story and rhyme
In Nature's four Seasons Summer, Fall, Winter and Spring
Through old coastal lands where the brown bushlark sing.

The great Merri river will flow forever more
To Warrnambool on to the Pacific shore
From it's dark deep pools the sea trout jump for fly
It has flowed through all Seasons and weather warm and dry.

In the long gone Dreamtime in the shade of the trees
The Indigenous people danced their corroborees
On the banks of the Merri in a corroboree ring
By the river they loved as they danced they did sing.

They had lived here for centuries before Europeans came
And for their beloved river they had their own name
The river known to all as the Merri of today
On towards the Pacific it babbles it's way.

poem by Francis Duggan
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The Rill From The Foot Of The Mountain

The rill from the foot of the mountain that joins the river to the sea
It has babbled on downhill forever by hedgerows in the high
Country
It has witnessed the birth and death of millions of Seasons even before the first Human was born
In the upland wood where it flows through the birds sing at dawn of the morn.

The rill it is truly immortal something that will live forever more
Forever 'twill flow to the river that flows to the great ocean shore
To it there is not a time limit it is as old as father time
It has inspired the long dead poets to glorify it in their rhyme.

The rill from the foot of the mountain towards the river ripples along
And sometimes above it's quiet babble the dippers can be heard in song
The dark brown white breasted waterbirds of Human kind they do seem shy
By the water-way they were born and in the water-way they will die.

The rill from the foot of the mountain downhill to the big river flow
The ancestors of the upland farmers who lived by it centuries ago
In the old Village graveyard it flows by with the long departed they lay
As on for to join the big river it babbles on it's downhill way.

poem by Francis Duggan
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A Wet Day In July

Such wild and chilly weather with heavy showers of sleety rain
That flood the spouting and the creek and the storm water drain
And the paddocks around the Powlett river seem like an inland sea
And water everywhere about as far as the eyes can see.

The old bloke Mick scratches his head as he looks up at the sky
Saying more rain clouds o'er the ocean 'twill make a wet
July
On either side of the highway from Bass into Wonthaggi there's water everywhere
The paddock by our house is waterlogged 'tis like a quagmire there.

In July in south west Gippsland the weather often wild and cold and wet
But according to Mick from Bass this one the wettest yet
In more than sixty years of life he has known big rainfall
But yesterday is the wettest day he ever can recall.

In the paddocks between Kilcunda and Dalyston water everywhere about
And the Powlett river is overflowing it's banks and it's surplus water is flooding out
Making the land look like an inland sea and cattle on the hill bellow for hay
And in the coastal lands of south west Gippsland another rainy July day.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Where The River Flows

Music : rudolf schenker
Lyrics: klaus meine
Under suburban skies
Where life is bleeding
Where concrete skies are grey
Theres plenty of room for dreaming
I still keep coming here
Follow those traces
I travel back in time
Remember all those places
Feels like I never left
The houses still standing
Down by the river where
The dreams are never ending
You find me
You find me
You find me by the river
You find me
You find me
You find me where the river flows
Under the silent moon
This industrial city
Is heartland even though
Lifes been not that pretty
I still keep coming here
To that old river
To find my roots just where
The future lives forever
You find me
You find me
You find me by the river
You find me
You find me
You find me, you can find me
By the river where dreams will never die
By the river under suburban skies
You find me
You find me
You find me by the river
You find me
You find me
You find me where the river flows
By the river where dreams have never died
By the river I look through childrens eyes
You find me
You find me
You find me by the river
You find me
You find me
You find me where the river flows
You find me
You find me
You find me by the river
You find me
You find me
You find me where the river flows
Where the river flows
Where the river flows
Where the river flows

song performed by by Scorpions
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The River Forever To The Ocean Flow

The river that flows from the hills far away
Through wetlands and dry lands by night and by day
As old as father time will journey forever more
Through the flat coastal lands en route to the sea shore.

It starts on it's journey as a trickling rill
In a pond by a rock at the base of the hill
That is far north of here even as the crow fly
The river flows on and refuses to die.

From a rill to a stream and into a river it grow
As rills and streams from other hills into it flow
It babbles and gurgles by hedgerow and tree
On it's forever journey on down to the sea.

A creek, brook, stream or river call it what you may
Near the ocean it grows to a huge water-way
And Humans like the Seasons to life come and go
But the river forever to the ocean flow

poem by Francis Duggan
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It's a river

When the time keeps passing and the world goes round
and the sea is crashing at the cliffs and the sounds
erupting as the seabirds cry, you can watch the river
as the time goes by

And it's like it's holy and it can be hell
and you feel so lonely and you fear the smell
of the guns that fire then you see the light
of a rainbow dawning and you realise
that the river's flowing as the time goes by

And you met the people and you knew them well
and you said you loved them and you rang the bell
in the tree of life you watched them grow
and the world is turning as the river flows

The earth smells good and the sky turns gold
when the birds are singing and you bless the old
you can kiss your woman and it feels so right
as you touch the river as the time goes by

As you stand barefoot upon the morning shore
and you feel the centuries of death and war
and the wind is biting and it tears your skin
and the river's flowing where its always been

And the river washes and the river's clean
and the soul remembers where the river's been
as you watch it tumble and you watch it flow
your life's a river now you know, now you know
your life's a river now you know.

poem by Charles M. Moore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Symbol For Peace, Freedom And Justice

To want freedom and justice for his people was Mandela's only crime
And his freedom taken from him and in jail he spent his prime
But the first democratically elected President of South Africa not one to hold a grudge
His former oppressors he's forgiven he does not condemn or judge.

The now ex President of South Africa is a legend in his time
His potrait painted by famous artists and he's inspired the bards to rhyme
His fame has spread around the World far distant from his Country's shore
And the name of Nelson Mandela destined to live forever more.

He was wrongfully imprisoned yet a grudge he does not hold
And his life well documented and his story often told
In his old age quite a hero and so many he inspire
And a fellow like Mandela is so easy to admire

One of the few inspirational figures in the history of human
kind
And his equals are not many people like him hard to find
A symbol for peace, freedom and justice he is one who can forgive
And the name of Nelson Mandela forever is destined to live.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Rhyme

Poets rhyme from time to time
They don’t find rhyme a crime
It’s no sin, their using rhyme
Inspired rhyme is so sublime
Can often form a perfect line

ROTMS

poem by Ray Lucero
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It Goes Like It Goes

(david shire / norman gimbel)
Theme from norma rae
Aint no miracle being born
People doin it everyday
It aint no miracle growing up, ah
People just grow that way
So it goes like it goes
Like the river flows
And time it rolls right on
And maybe whats good gets a little bit better
And maybe whats bad gets gone
Ah, bless the child of a working man
She knows too soon who she is
And bless the hands of a working man
Oh, he knows his soul is his
So it goes like it goes
Like the river flows
And time it rolls right on
And maybe whats good gets a little bit better
And maybe whats bad gets gone
So it goes like it goes
Like the river flows
And time keeps rolling right on, oh
And maybe whats good gets a little bit better
And maybe whats bad gets gone

song performed by by Dusty Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Long River

Where the long river flows
It flows by my window
Where the tall timber grows
It grows round my door
Where the mountains meet the sky
And the white clouds fly
Where the long river flows
By my window
Theres a tiny bird that calls
And he calls by my window
Theres a lonely tear that falls
And it falls round my door
But when the sun is high
Theres no time to cry
Where the long river flows
By my window
Now if only you could see
The closin of the day
If only you could be
Where the dawn breaks away
By the white cascade
Oh down in the glade
Where the long river flows
By my window
Well when this land was made
It was made full of wonder
But one womans love
I cant understand
And Id give it all to you
If her love were true
Where the long river flows
By my window
Where the long river flows
By my window

song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To a Vers Librist

"Oh bard," I said, "your verse is free;
The shackles that encumber me,
The fetters that are my obsession,
Are never gyves to your expression.

"The fear of falsities in rhyme,
In metre, quantity, or time,
Is never yours; you sing along
Your unpremeditated song."

"Correct," the young vers librist said.
"Whatever pops into my head
I write, and have but one small fetter:
I start each line with a capital letter.

"But rhyme and metre--Ishkebibble!--
Are actually negligible.
I go ahead, like all my school,
Without a single silly rule."

Of rhyme I am so reverential
He made me feel quite inconsequential.
I shed some strongly saline tears
For bards I loved in younger years.

"If Keats had fallen for your fluff,"
I said, "he might have done good stuff.
If Burns had thrown his rhymes away,
His songs might still be sung to-day."

O bards of rhyme and metre free,
My gratitude goes out to ye
For all your deathless lines--ahem!
Let's see, now . . . What is one of them?

poem by Franklin P. Adams
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Inevitable for M 'lady Mary Gordley

The rugged rocks although they try
cannot prevent, merely delay.
The flowing stream which will pass by
and in so doing wear away.

The rocks which try to stem the flow
and slowly grind them down to sand.
This is the secret rivers know
theirs is the task to change the land

Although the rugged rocks maintain.
That they will keep their pride of place.
The water moves them grain by grain
until there’s very little trace.

They may endure for centuries
but water flows eternally.
The rocks succumb eventually
and leave the river flowing free.

Time also like a river flows
and wears away the lives of men
Though to what end and what purpose.
Men question time and time again.

There are some things we may not know
and that is why there’s no reply.
We only know it must be so
that in due course all men must die.

22-Mar-08

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Beautiful River

And he showed me a pure River of Water of Life, clear as crystal, proceeding out of the Throne of God and of the Lamb." -- Rev. xxii. 1

Shall we gather at the river
Where bright angel feet have trod;
With its crystal tide forever
Flowing by the throne of God?

CHORUS.