Tullahoma
TULLAHOMA
RICH IN CULTURE WHERE VIRTUES STRAY
IN DEPTHS OF HEARTS OF BEAUTY
TULLAHOMA LAND OF THE RED CLAY
BLESSED IT IS PRETTIER THAN PRETTY
NESTLED IN VALLEYS OF CUMBERLAND HEIGHTS
REFLECTING ITS SERENITY IN BEAUTIFUL LAKES
TULLAHOMA LAND OF HEART WARMING SIGHTS
BEST OF WHAT GOD’S HANDS MAKES
WHERE DAFFODILS BLOOM WHEN BLUEBIRD SING
HAPPY TUNES FOR HEARTS TO DREAM
AS THE CARDINALS FLAP THEIR WINGS
CHEERING TULLAHOMA LAND OF THE GLEAM
PICTURE PERFECT HOME OF SOUTHERN FLAVOR
WARMER THAN WARM IN EVERY SMILE
TULLAHOMA LAND OF THE RED FLOWERS
RAPTURE OF SPLENDOR IN EVERY TRAIL
SHADOWS OF SUN WALTZING INTO NIGHTS
STEPPING WITH MOON CHASING THE STARS
TULLAHOMA LAND OF LOVE OF HEARTS
OPENING ARMS TO FRIENDS AND STRANGERS
WHERE DAFFODILS BLOOM WHEN BLUEBIRD SINGS
HAPPY TUNES FOR HEARTS TO DREAM
AS THE CARDINALS FLAP THEIR WINGS
CHEERING TULLAHOMA LAND OF THE GLEAM
Tullahoma is where I live which is in middle Tennessee 60 miles Nashville on west and 60 miles from chattanooga in east
poem by Mittur Ramprasad
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
To The Land
To the land of bribes,
To the land of telephones,
To the land of corruptions,
To the land of trains,
To the land of shops,
To the land of thieves,
To the land of connections,
To the land of drugs,
To the land of trucks,
To the land of cats,
To the land of Banks,
To the land of dogs, To the land of footballers,
To the land of dragons,
To the land of hope,
To the land of ice-cream,
To the land of potatoes,
To the land of chocolates,
To the land of tomatoes,
To the land of apples,
To the land of coffee,
To the land of lights,
To the land of ships,
To the land of birds,
To the land of tigers,
To the land of carpets,
To the land of pillows,
To the land of lions,
TO the land of toys,
To the land of horses,
To the land of beds,
To the land of roses,
To the land of love,
To the land of passion,
To the land of romance;
I never new women do snore until i married one.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Dream Land
Dream Land
Dream Land
What a wonderful place many have seen
But can’t be.
Dream Land
Dream Land
What a horrible place many have seen
And hoped never to be
Dream Land
Dream Land
Many who saw merriment in thy land
Wished never to wake
But wake they must
And when they do
They’re overwhelmed by
Such a sorrowful joy like never before
Dream Land
Dream Land
Struggling they do
Profusely they sweat
And “Jesus! ” they exclaim
When they finally turn their eyes
From the horrors they saw in thy land
Dream Land
Dream Land
What and where are you?
Some think you exist
While others hope you don’t
Do you really exist?
If you do
Where then are you?
If you don’t
Why then do you show thyself to us?
O Dream Land
While do you show thyself to us?
While we sleep
Can’t we see you with our eyes open?
Or are you a world for the blind?
Dream Land
Dream Land
O Dream Land
Where can we find you?
poem by YoungBen Ulebor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dreamers
I see trees of Gold
leaves of silver
in my dream land
flowers that sing
birds that dance
hippos do the fandango
and I
cry
tears of joy.
I see the Peace of Angels
hearts which meld
and join at the soul's juncture
in my dream land
I see cats doing cartwheels
dogs which speak Shakespeare
lovers who can fly
each one having one wing
and with these two wings
take flight
which is what love allows
in my dream land
Dark and Light
compliment
rather than contest
plenty abounds
with Community
I write on the walls of caves
and thereby invent Art
I learn to grow food
rather that kill it.
I learn to read
in my dream land
and they
called me crazy.
That is what they always say
about dreamers.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Oh America
We all stand a chance
You’ll love it at a glance
Everyone
From everywhere
No matter what your race
What you look on the face
You can get the same
As the ones with fame
I dream of a land
Where everyone is free
I dream of a land
Where everyone is happy
I dream of a land
Where is everyone is rich
I dream of a land
Where everyone is pretty
Oh America
You make my dreams come true
Oh America
You make my life complete
poem by Unsal Bell
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Bye Bye Bluebird
Bye bye bluebird, bye bye bluebird
You were lots of fun to know
But I have to let you go
Bye bye bluebird, bye bye bluebird
Youre the flyin saucer kind
In and out and hard to find
Bye bye bluebird
Bye bye bluebird
Bye bye bluebird
Bye bye bluebird
Bye bye bluebird
Bye bye bluebird
When you came I flipped my lid
I never thought Id lose you kid
Bye bye bluebird
Bye bye bluebird
Bye bye bluebird
Bye bye bluebird
Though we were a perfect pair
It was a flight-by-night affair
Bye bye bluebird
Bye bye bluebird
Oh I should have clipped your wings
Im not gonna do these things
Bye bye bluebird
Bye bye bluebird
If you ever should be near
Dont forget to drop in here
Bye bye bluebird
Bye bye bluebird
Bye bye bluebird
Bye bye bluebird
Bye bye bluebird
Bye bye bluebird
Call me when youre short of dough
Or maybe just to say hello
Bye bye bluebird
Bye bye bluebird
Bye bye bluebird
Bye bye bluebird
No hard feelings anyway
Its nice to know we had our way
Bye bye bluebird
Bye bye bluebird
Bye bye bluebird
Bye bye bluebird
song performed by by Boney M.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mother India
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
You are the paradise on earth
Where things are not in any dearth.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
In Your Lap live men and women
Of every caste and religion.
You rain your love and affection
On them all without distinction.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
You have got a peculiar trait
Due to which you are very great.
You adopt the foreigners too,
Who like to live and die for you.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
You are beautiful, all perfect;
You are rich in every aspect.
In the ancient times, we have heard,
Aliens called you ‘a golden bird’
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
The mountains guard your honour here;
The ocean washes your feet there.
The rivers contain sweet water
Which for us is just like nectar.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
Our culture is ancient and high,
We are respected that is why.
Culture has bound us by and by,
With a chain of pure love and tie.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
We are sorry here live some men
Who are not loyal, but still then,
Pose as lovers of this nation,
Whom we do not like to mention.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
We are sorry here live some men;
Fire of hatred they ever fan.
Freedom, we fear, may not be lost,
Which we have got at a great cost.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
Let us be wise not to be tool
Of selfish powers which befool
Those who do not well understand
Their aim which is behind their stand.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
We will be lucky, if we die
For you, O Gracious Country High!
We’ll give them a fitting reply,
Who see you with a slanting eye.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
poem by Aziz Ahmad
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Land
This is my land
Calm and quiet
This is my land
Come and try it
This is my land
No contradicting
This is my land
Everything living
This is my land
Everything together
This is my land
We sing in good weather
This is my land
Everything's connected
This is my land
Nothing's tethered…
Yet
This is my land
It's getting darker
This is my land
Vanished
Beside us-
Not just me,
Us
If you want my land to change,
Our land has to change first
If we work together
We can bring my land back
This Southern Land of Ours
With alien hearts to frame our laws
And cheat us as of old,
In vain our soil is rich, in vain
'Tis seamed with virgin gold:
But the present only yields us nought,
The future only lours
Till we dare to be a people
In this Southern Land of Ours.
What would pygmean statesmen but
Our new-world prospects blast,
By chaining native enterprise
To Europe's pauper past,
With all its misery for the mass,
And fraud-upholden powers;
But we'll yet have men, - like Cromwell,
In this Southern Land of Ours.
And lo, the unploughed future, boys,
May yet be all our own,
If hearts that love their Native Land
Determine this alone:
To sow its years with crops of truth,
And border these with flowers,
Till we have a birth of heroes
In this Southern Land of Ours.
poem by Charles Harpur
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mother India
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
You are the paradise on earth
Where things are not in any dearth.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
In Your Lap live men and women
Of every caste and religion.
You rain your love and affection
On them all without distinction.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
You have got a peculiar trait
Due to which you are very great.
You adopt the foreigners too,
Who like to live and die for you.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
You are beautiful, all perfect;
You are rich in every aspect.
In the ancient times, we have heard,
Aliens called you ‘a golden bird’
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
The mountains guard your honour here;
The ocean washes your feet there.
The rivers contain sweet water
Which for us is just like nectar.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
Our culture is ancient and high,
We are respected that is why.
Culture has bound us by and by,
With a chain of pure love and tie.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
We are sorry here live some men
Who are not loyal, but still then,
Pose as lovers of this nation,
Whom we do not like to mention.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
We are sorry here live some men;
Fire of hatred they ever fan.
Freedom, we fear, may not be lost,
Which we have got at a great cost.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
Let us be wise not to be tool
Of selfish powers which befool
Those who do not well understand
Their aim which is behind their stand.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
We will be lucky, if we die
For you, O Gracious Country High!
We’ll give them a fitting reply,
Who see you with a slanting eye.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
poem by Aziz Ahmad 'Aziz Moradabadi'
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Africa. A land...
Africa.
A land full of mysteries,
A land where the Gods speaks,
A land where Nature talks in secret ancestral tongues,
A land rich in Culture and Heritage,
The soil, drenched in sweat and blood
Listens to the poundings of the African feet
As they dance to the sound of patriotism.
Africa.
The land of hope and bliss,
The land of milk and honey,
The land where freedom was fought for,
The land rich in natural beauty,
The people, blessed with strength and grace
Fights for the love of their land
As they listen to the pleas of the drenched soil.
poem by Muneerah Abdulrahman
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Whose Country Is This?
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of snakes;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of many waters;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of thieves! !
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of people;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of oil;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of earthquakes!
Whose country is this?
it is a land full of lovers;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of volcanoes!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of beautiful flowers;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of hansome men;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of beautiful women;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of roses;
Whose country is this?
it is a land ruled only by men;
Whose country is this?
It is a land without rainfall;
Whose country is this?
It is a land ruled by a woman;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of corruption!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of pirates! !
Whose country is this?
It is a land ruled by law;
Whose country is this?
It is a land controlled by rebels!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of ice;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of pregnant women;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of the sins of Sodom and Gomorrah!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of singers;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of troubles;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of war! !
Whose country is this?
It is a land with the biggest cemetery in the wolrd!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of desert;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of trees;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of pregnant teenagers!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of timber;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of hatred;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of love;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of care;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of peace;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of smokers!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of businesses;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of harlots;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of wise people;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of idiots!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of gold;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of cocoa;
Whose country is this?
It is a alnd full of crabs;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of evil;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of rainfalls;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of ants;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of horses;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of pigs;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of statues;
Whose country is this?
it is a land full of birds;
And so on, and so forth!
Because nature had made them so as we see them around us,
But the wise and fool live together on this earth.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Come Home My Son, Come Home
As I travel across this country
the land that I love best
with its snowy peaked mountains
that lay out of reach in the west.
The rivers and the lakes
where nature grows at its best.
The forests and the plains
that each has their part
in the land I love the best.
I write from a distant shore
with dreams of coming home again
ever always on my mind.
Seeing once again friends
from a long, long time ago.
The land that I live in is not to my desire.
My home is ten thousand miles away,
and each time I see it,
it’s like the birth of a new day.
The cities are filled with people
and in the countryside; you can breathe in the fresh air.
The more I dream about it,
the more I wish to be there.
It is not the land of my birth,
but the place that I call home.
That distant country keeps calling to me
come home my son, come home.
31 January 2009
poem by David Harris
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A Word from the Bards
IT IS New Year’s Day and I rise to state that here on the Sydney side
The Bards have commenced to fill out of late and they’re showing their binjies with pride
They’re patting their binjies with pride, old man, and I want you to understand,
That a binjied bard is a bard indeed when he sings in the Southern Land,
Old chaps,
When he sings in the Southern Land.
For the Southern Land is the Poet’s Home, and over the world’s wide roam,
There was never till now a binjied bard that lived in a poet’s home, old man;
For the poet’s home was a hell on earth, and I want you to understand,
That it isn’t exactly a paradise down here in the Southern Land,
Old chap,
Down here in the Southern Land.
The Beer and the Bailiff were gone last night and the “temple” doorstep clean,
And our heads are clear and our hearts are light with wine from the Riverine—
With wine from the Riverine, old man, and I want you to understand
That Bard, Beer and Bailiff too long were kin down here in the Southern Land,
Old man,
Down here in the Southern Land.
It is not because of a larger fee, nor yet that the bards are free,
For the bards I know and the bards I see are married enough for three;
Are married enough for three, old man, and I want you to understand,
They’ve a right to be married enough for four, down here in the Southern Land,
My girl,
Down here in the Southern Land.
But I think it’s because a bird went round and twittered in ears of men
That bards have care and the world seems bare as seen from the rhyming den,
And twittered in ears of men, old chaps, and got folks to understand
That a poet is something more than a joke down here in the Southern Land,
Old man,
Down here in the Southern Land.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Land Of The Living
i found myself
in another world
i found myself
alive and well
i am the vapor
i am the gas
you be the angel
of everything
this is the land of the living
this is the land of reprisal
this is the land of the living
the living
the living
i lost myself
too wide a plane
i opened up
i'm not the same
i am electric
made of wire
you be the match
i'll be the fire
this is the land of the living
this is the land of reprisal
this is the land of the living
the living
the living
the living
in myself i try for you
walk a thousand miles to get us through
airways
jet planes
safe landings
no branding
land
land
this is the land of the living
the land of reprisal
this is the land of the living
the land of survival
survival
land
land
this is the land of the living
the living
the living
the living
song performed by by Bush from Golden State
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Virginia is for Lovers :)
A lovers paradise and everyone's dream
Virgina is the land of melodic theme
Where lovers unite and passion grows
Where cardinals sings..and the river flows
The green and gold that stretches high
The sun that sets and birds that fly
Where Harley's on the mountains ride
And deers are spotted along the side
Where landscape stretches miles away
And farmers work all night and day
Where flowers bloom, sing and dance
Virginia is a place for Romance
poem by Meena Mustafa
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Fling Out The Flag
(For the Australian Labour Federation)
FLING out the Flag! Let her flap and rise in the rush of the eager air,
With the ring of the wild swan's wings as she soars from the swamp and
her reedy lair.
Fling out the Flag! And let friend and foe behold, for gain or loss,
The sign of our faith and the fight we fight, the Stars of the Southern
Cross!
Oh! Blue's for the sky that is fair for all, whoever, wherever he be,
And Silver's the light that shines on all for hope and for liberty,
And that's the desire that burns in our hearts, for ever quenchless and
bright,
And that's the sign of our flawless faith and the glorious fight we fight!
What is the wealthiest land on earth, if the millions suffer and cry,
And all but the happy selfish Few would fain curse God and die?
What are the glorious Arts, as they sit and sing on their jewelled thrones,
If their hands are wet with blood and their feet befouled with festering
bones?
What are the splendid Sciences, driving Nature with a bit of steel,
If only the Rich can mount the car and the Poor are dragged at the
wheel?
Wealth is a curse, and Art a mock, and Science worse than a lie,
When they're but the gift of the greedy Thieves, the leeches that suck
men dry!
Nay, brothers, nay! it is not for this — for a land of wealth and woe —
That we hoped and trusted all these years, that we toiled and struggled
so!
It is not for a race of taskmasters and pitiful cringing slaves,
That our strength and skill raised up happy homes and dreamed of
fearless graves.
It is not for a Cause that is less than for all, that is not for Truth but a lie,
That we raise our faces and grip our hands, and lift our voices high,
As we fling out the Flag that friend and foe may see, for gain or loss,
The sign of our faith and the fight we fight, the Stars of the Southern
Cross!
As the sky above is fair for all, whoever, wherever he be,
As the blessèd stars on all shed their light of hope and of liberty:
So let the earth, this fertile earth, this well-loved Southern land,
Be fair to all, be free to all, from strand to shining strand!
Let boy and girl and woman and man in it at least be sure,
That all can earn their daily bread with hearts as proud as pure;
Let man and woman and girl and boy in it for ever be
Heirs to the best this world can give, happy, fearless, free!
Fling out the Flag! Let her flap and rise in the rush of the eager air,
With the ring of the wild swan's wings as she soars from the swamp and
her reedy lair!
Fling out the Flag! and let friend and foe behold, for gain or loss,
The sign of our faith and the fight we fight, the Stars of the Southern
Cross!
Oh! Blue's the sky that is fair for all, whoever, wherever he be,
And Silver's the light that shines on all, for hope and for liberty;
And that's the desire that burns in our hearts, for ever quenchless and
bright,
And that's the sign of our flawless faith, and the glorious fight we fight.
poem by Francis William Lauderdale Adams
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Come Away
(g.bowser/j.jupp)
Published by chappell & co., ltd. - capac
As I walk along the lonely streets
I cant talk to the people that I meet
I see them come, and I see them go
I see them smile, and say hello
Come with me and take my hand
Ooh, fly away to another land, oh yes we will
Come with me and take my hand
Well fly away to another land
Come over here little girl
And Ill show you another world
Where we can be free to do as we want
Live our lives as we please, and say what we like, oh
Come with me and take my hand, ooh
Well fly away to another land
Come with me and take my hand, oh
And fly away to another land
Theres so many things that remain to be done
And no one has thought of a way to begin
So follow me into my life
Come with me and take my hand (and take...)
Fly away to another land (fly away to another land)
Come with me and take my hand (ooh)
Fly away to another land (fly away to another land)
Come with me and take my hand (take my hand)
Fly away to another land (oh yes we will)
Come with me and take my hand (and take my hand, take my hand)
Fly away to another land (yeah)
Come with me and take my hand
Fly away to another land
Come with me and take my hand
Fly away to another land
song performed by by April Wine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Native Title
You are welcome to our country
When full respect is paid
To those who souls grew out from where
Their ancestors were laid
This land is our protector
This land our path in life
This land is our great comforter
This land is hurt by strife
Feel the heart that beats within it
As the seasons come and go
Feel the energy within it
From which everything does grow
This land will guide your footsteps
This land will feed you well
This land needs loving kindly
This land is not to sell
This land is just our country
This land is just our home
For its not just who owns this land
But whom this land does own.
poem by David Keig
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Come Next Winter, Friends
COME NEXT WINTER, FRIENDS
I WILL WAIT WITH MY SON IN MY HANDS
FORGET NOT COMING TO MY LAND MY FRIENDS
WHEN THE WOODS BLOOM WITH FLOWERS OF SNOW
WHEN THE BOREAS BRING YOU HELL WITH BLOW
WHEN YOUR HEARTS CRAVE FOR WARMTH AND GLOW
FORGET NOT COMING TO MY LAND MY FRIENDS
I WILL WAIT WITH MY SON IN MY HANDS
YOU SHALL NEST IN A PASTURE NEW
CLOVER IS GREEN AND FOES ARE FEW
I WILL SHOW YOU SOME ETHEREAL VIEW
FORGET NOT COMING TO MY LAND MY FRIENDS
I WILL WAIT WITH MY SON IN MY HANDS
YOU SHALL BATH IN HOT WATER SPRING
WRAP INTO SWEATERS THE SUNNY DAYS BRING
STROLL ON THE PLAIN WHERE SUN RAYS CLING
FORGET NOT COMING TO MY LAND MY FRIENDS
I WILL WAIT WITH MY SON IN MY HANDS
TELL THEM THE STORIES OF LIGHT AND HUE
TELL THEM THE STORIES OF GREEN AND BLUE
BRING WITH YOU SOME MORE FRIENDS NEW
FORGET NOT COMING TO MY LAND MY FRIENDS
I WILL WAIT WITH MY SON IN MY HANDS
PACK IN THY BAGS SOME FAIRY TALES
WRAP IN THY LUNGS SOME HOMELY SMELLS
MY SON WILL JUMP TO SEE DOLL BELLES
FORGET NOT COMING TO MY LAND MY FRIENDS
I WILL WAIT WITH MY SON IN MY HANDS
BYE BYE O BIRDS IF WE CAN NOT MEET
FORGIVE ME FRIENDS IF I CAN NOT GREET
FORGET NOT THE SKY YOU FLEW WITH ME
FORGET NOT THE LAND YOU ROAMED WITH ME
WORRY NOT TO COME NEXT WINTER MY FRIENDS
MY SON WILL WAIT WITH MY NAME IN HIS HANDS
Mukesh Raval
India [29/01/2010]
poem by Mukesh Raval
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Land, Ho!
I know ’tis but a loom of land,
Yet is it land, and so I will rejoice,
I know I cannot hear His voice
Upon the shore, nor see Him stand;
Yet is it land, ho! land.
The land! the land! the lovely land!
‘Far off,’ dost say? Far off—ah, blessèd home!
Farewell! farewell! thou salt sea-foam!
Ah, keel upon the silver sand—
Land, ho! land.
You cannot see the land, my land,
You cannot see, and yet the land is there—
My land, my land, through murky air—
I did not say ’twas close at hand—
But—land, ho! land.
Dost hear the bells of my sweet land,
Dost hear the kine, dost hear the merry birds?
No voice, ’tis true, no spoken words,
No tongue that thou may’st understand—
Yet is it land, ho! land.
It’s clad in purple mist, my land,
In regal robe it is apparellèd,
A crown is set upon its head,
And on its breast a golden band—
Land, ho! land.
Dost wonder that I long for land?
My land is not a land as others are—
Upon its crest there beams a star,
And lilies grow upon the strand—
Land, ho! land.
Give me the helm! there is the land!
Ha! lusty mariners, she takes the breeze!
And what my spirit sees it sees—
Leap, bark, as leaps the thunderbrand—
Land, ho! land.
poem by Thomas Edward Brown
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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