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 Merri In Flood
The old Merri River in flood waters of brown
Is flowing on bank high on by Warrnambool Town
In and out of Lake Pertobe on it's sea going way
To join the Pacific at famed Lady Bay
The old river that is old even in time
That has inspired the poets and songwriters to rhyme
In the age of the dinosaurs the Merri was old
In full flood the river a sight to behold
In Summer by the banks of the river in the shade of the trees
The Indigenous tribes had their corroborees
Like the Seasons of Nature the people come and go
But the river on down through the flat country flow
In and out of Lake Pertobe and on to the sea
The Merri in flood is a great sight to see.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Hopkins River
Centuries before the black people to this Land came
An unknown Country that did not have a name
The river now known as the Hopkins through the scrublands did flow
And that is going back many centuries ago.
The dinosaurs came at the twilight of the day
For to slake their thirst at the quiet water-way
And though the dinosaurs from the World are forever gone
The old Hopkins river keeps babbling on.
Through the flat brown Countryside to Warrnambool to the sea
The Hopkins has flowed for century on century
Through places dry and stony and places remote
The river has inspired the artist and poet.
For to sketch and sing of it in decades gone by
The river that has never stopped flowing through Summer's warm and dry
And though the artist and poet now with the deceased lay
The Hopkins keeps babbling on night after day.
Through places dry and stony and places remote and brown
On down to the ocean near Warrnambool Town
And the Seasons may come and the Seasons may go
But the old Hopkins river forever will flow.
poem by Francis Duggan
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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
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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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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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When The River Flowed
When The River Flowed
© 2011 (Jim Sularz)
Dedicated to my Brother-in-Law: William L. Browne III (1959-2011)
Let it be known, in memoriam, that he is loved.
And any earthly bonds that shaped his soul,
is now a wide river flowing,
to a distant Heaven bestowed.
He could have walked a much longer path,
and would have paused again, with a hearty laugh.
But, when the river flowed, when the river flowed,
– it marked this hour, for him to go.
Don’t cry for him, with welling tears upset,
but celebrate his fulfilled years, instead.
When the river flowed, when the river flowed,
- it moved his gift of life ahead.
For loving sons, family, friends and beloved wife,
he leaves cherished memories, a faithful man’s insight.
And when the river flowed, when the river flowed,
- it moved him gently, to Everlasting Life!
poem by Jim Sularz
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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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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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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 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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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
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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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A River Flows
Where does the river flow
if not to you?
How deep its depths
if these
are not yours?
How broad is the river bank?
Broad enough
for the tug-boats
to push my heart along.
If there are fish in the river,
they sing your name
open-mouthed,
fish-style,
making tiny bubbles float
up, up to the river surface
where they pop
spread
announcing to the Firmament
that Love lives just below
the deep river flows.
Yes, you and I
are the river;
we flow,
run deep
down to that
ocean-mix
in which
our souls
swirl.
Mix me then
in depths deep.
Mix you then
amid this ocean sweep
and all else,
for me
becomes meaningless
so great
is our Soul Mixed
Ocean Bliss.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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In Fancy The Song Of The Dipper
In fancy the song of the dipper I hear
The river he sings in to my thoughts are near
With snow white breast and mostly dark brown
As he sing on a rock midst the rapids he bobs up and down
A beautiful to look at bird with a plain enough song
Once seen and once heard him you never get wrong
As birds go one might say a stranger to renown
He lives and breeds in the river that flows by the town
'Tis part of his natural duty for him to help his dipper wife
For to raise their young dippers for a river life
And in Seasons from now when the life from him long gone
The song of the dipper in the river lives on
In fancy I can hear him singing today
And the river he sings in from me doesn't seem far away
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
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The Once Great River
In the once great river pollution is rife
Nowadays it does not support much aquatic life
In a polluted river fresh water fish rare
Pollution can cause extinction of that much we are aware
On the polluted river few water birds to be seen
Most of the river pools covered in algae of green
From sewage and wash of chemical fertilisers that in drains into it does flow
With so called human progress the scourge of pollution does grow
Pollution in it flowing to the distant ocean shore
The once great river is not great anymore
Do not drink of these waters the warning signs say
Pollutiuon is rife in the World of today
And the once great river flows on muddy gray
To the mighty ocean many miles away.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Times Keep On Changing
As dead as the dodo some say about rhyme
But then suppose everything does have it's time
The great rhyme poets and poetesses in their long rest now lay
They did have their innings one of them can say.
In art, music and literature the changes do happen fast
And only Nature forever is the one who does last
People come and go and the past it has gone
And only Nature herself seems to keep keeping on.
In the last days of Winter coming up to the Spring
Out there in the woodland the birds nest and sing
To insure the survival of their species they must breed that is Nature's way
In Nature there is birth and there is death every day.
It does seem that most things have their use by date
And for anyone or anything time does not wait
And though some to the past with great fondness do cling
Each new generation with them new ideas bring.
The times keep on changing and changing quite fast
And nothing save Nature ever does seem to last
But the big river forever to the great ocean does flow
And the Seasons they come and the Seasons they go.
poem by Francis Duggan
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River Death
River was
Running...
With water...
Water are
Nice too
Play with sands...
Trees...
Mountain rocks...
Swmming fishes...
Some time jump
With dive and swime...
Sun was see
Face at river water
Mirror...?
moon was
Click the eye
About
The river....
Animals are swimming
Birds also drinking...
People also
Swmming too
Wash the cloths...
River was
Every day run
Simply not sad...
At rainey time...
At winter time...
Summer time
River not run
Stop to stop
Death the river...
Sky cry...
With rain
Run the river...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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My Love For You Is A River
My love for you is like a river
You can not tell how deep it is just by looking
You have to jump in and dive down deep
Even then you will never know
My love for you is like a river
You can not tell how strong it is just by looking
You have to ride the rapids and fall with the water falls
Even then you will never know
My love for you is like a river
You can not tell how far it flows just by looking
You have to travel with it to its end
Even then you will never know
Because this river has no end
It empties into an eternal sea
that goes on till the end of time
My love for you is this river
poem by Jamey Einrem
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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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