I cried for so long, so many nights,
and now no more tears can drop,
I'm all out, do you have some to spare,
cause you know once I start, I can't stop.
I go on for days with a heavy heart,
no tears fall, though inside I'm crying,
I feel empty, hollow, dark inside,
a soul dead, and still is dying.
Can I fill a bucket from your well,
the sun came out, dried up my rain,
I'll take them carefully, try not to spill,
cause I've got a need to ease the pain.
That feeling of washing away the sorrow,
with trickling tear-water, clear and cool,
soothes the soul, relaxes the ache,
can I dive right into your swimming pool?
I need to pour out your flowing brook,
to keep me crying a river for today,
I want to hold despair in my hands,
please let this melancholy feeling stay.
Out of Water contest
Copyright © Kelly Deschler
I am a flake of winter snow
on cold and driven wind.
I've been the drops of rain so slow
from darkened clouds unpinned.
I am the sting of frigid sleet
that makes one's skin so raw.
I've been the course of waters fleet
as winter yields to thaw.
I am the face of ice-bound lake
which hides its life beneath.
I've been the tossing waves that break
and tides which time bequeath.
I am the snow in drifted row
piled deep before your door.
I've been a river wide and slow
to live on and explore.
I am the waters flowing still,
through ageless, rolling time.
I've been the earth's unbroken will
still granting life, sublime.
I am the Waters
Copyright © Brian Baumgarn
Sailing these seas, right now the waves are rough.
The ship is hard to steer, and I fear we may sink.
My crew has hope, but they don’t see what I do.
The water’s looking troubled, just like the way I think.
Sailing these seas, the waves have settled down.
The ship is sailing smoothly, I believe we’ll be okay.
My worries are at the back of my head.
I’ll save them for another day.
Sailing these seas, I think we’ve struck something!
My crew is in a panic, and I was not prepared.
Captain, don’t you know you always have to be cautious?
Even the leader sometimes gets scared.
Arriving at the shore, the ship barely intact.
Most of my crew is gone, but a few knew how to live.
They saved me when I needed them.
I want to show thanks, but I have nothing left to give.
To me, this poem sort of symbolizes depression, while indirectly talking about it.
The first verse pretty much says
"I am in a bad place, and I have supporting friends/family, but they don't see what I'm going through the way I do."
Second: "Things are getting better and I've decided to stop worrying about bad things happening and try to be happy."
Third: "Whenever I start thinking about good things and have hope, something bad always happens and I should've been prepared for it."
Fourth: "I made it through it, but lost a lot of the people supporting me because they couldn't handle me while I was down, and whatever I went through weakened me so it's hard to show gratitude to the people who stayed."
Copyright © Megan Devon
Nature in all her glorious splendor
Serves as reminder in loves fall
For only you bequeath this tremor
In depictions of images I recall
Effortlessly you breath life in me
In seasons young and guileless
A fragrant rush of healing breeze
A pastel sunset in reverent silence
Your masculine beauty staggers in part
Like the rapid beat of hummingbirds wings
Causing incalculable pulses in my heart
A timeless consciousness of a dream
Your a sanctuary of waters
In forms numerous in theme
Like raindrops bathe the pauper
Or my feet dangling in a stream
You walk with me in rainbows shadow
Forming hope through foaming falls
You entertain me with puddles shallow
And secure me in the surfers transparent walls
Your kisses like water cascading
Over my lonely emerald lands
Your strength like waves fiercely bracing
Stillness on morning lake the moment you hold my hand
Your an offering like a summer rain
My covering like winters snow
My sustaining element of life
The ceasing of the tears you know
Your my future journey my waterway
The current that carries me home
Your the deep pool where our children play
Our bond powerful like water smoothing river stones
A thousand deaths of life I'd suffer
If of you my world were to be deprived
Like the earth of water left uncovered
For your waters are the celebration of my life
Copyright © Sarai Romani
The Meaning of Love
Sitting on the water the moon dipping in his toes
Water rippling down, towards the sea it goes.
Making love under the moonlit sky so bright
As one together, on one never-to-be forgotten night.
Ripples of water matched by ripples of fear
Trembling together but not even near
Eons apart but matched in one thought
It cannot be stopped, it cannot be fought.
The moon need not be there, the river may dry up
The stars never seen, the wine they did not sup
Together they can be as one without even a touch
In thought and word only, the passion too much.
To fetch the passion to it’s desired end
Words of love and time one needs to spend
To come and reach the final conclusion
Together as one, it is no illusion.
Happiness can be reached though eons apart
Though time and circumstance tug at the heart
To never be alone in word thought or deed
Always to be there, when the other is in need.
© 22/12/2012 ~GG~
Copyright © Mandy Tams The Golden Girl
There's a place under the sun-which provide shade for
everyone. Where is this place! not in a place of refuge, but
stored within yourself-providing an overflowing river of ever-
lasting prudentcy too anyone?... If you feel it - Shout! "Give me
This dampsel in this story come's at the point were absolute
direction was needed and finds herself speaking to the Messiah-who
would provide her with direction and deep quinching thirst for proph-
etic neccessities to get one's life in order. "Give me this water", are
you at that point now? right now, whereas the decision you've made
has brought you upon that crossroad of your life. A life whereas we're
sleeping with anyone, most times the wrong one, all looking for love
and emptiness has mis-lead us to become complacent and a nation
of unprotective boom-mer's has emerged and our live's has no order.
Jesus say's - I will give you water, water that will provide fulfillment
of Place & Grace. Running to the next town she tells everyone come-
meet this man who has told me everything of my past and of myself.
This-this man-for he must be the Messiah, he speaks to me about a
special water, that shall be an atonement unto his Kingdom. These
folk's come from all the places north of the border. Together we all
shout! "GIVE ME THIS WATER".
Copyright © John Streeter
Here on the shore, no voices spoil
my peaceful time of early morn.
He comes to beckon where sands roil
on pristine beach as tides are born.
I call to calm the wind and sea
with victory of a rising sun.
Stirring the silence, he waits for me
to wash in waves before days done.
He guides me to his ocean deep
where blues and greens blend holding hands.
We laugh and watch the dolphins leap.
Then dive to rest on silky sand.
There on the ocean floor, I leave
my every worry, stress and care.
We rise to surface where we weave
our hopes and dreams, tomorrows shared.
Caressing salted skin, we sleep
here on the shore, no voices spoil.
Then out of water, blue oceans weep;
waves crash with dreams where harsh sands roil.
Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders
A test of the water,
A dip of my toe.
But bearably so.
Before I can swim,
I must get undressed.
I’ll start with my shirt,
And then all the rest.
I’ll glance about shyly,
Then just take the dive.
Returning for air,
Now I’m feeling alive.
This is how poetry
Ever will be.
A definite risk,
But a way to be free.
I show to the world,
What others won’t bare.
My vulnerable soul,
Under scrupulous glare.
Just as the clear water,
A feeble veil makes.
So scarcely can prose
Conceal life’s mistakes.
So under some metaphor
Or in simile
If you are looking,
You’ll find naked me.
Copyright © The Grahamburglar
The pond laps on the side edge of itself
Tiny waves form by the moon’s influence
Ripples formed by all the tree’s seeds falling
Beauty of this scene has some innocence
Reflections in the pond are barely there
Wavy image appears on the surface
A calming feel is presented right here
Each ripple arrives as if in a race
Light ricochets off the water’s bright form
Opening my heart to wondrous beauty
Safely this pond allows me perfect ease
My soul’s receptive of tranquility
I throw pebbles in the inviting pond
I see some fish rising to water’s top
Showing off and tempting me to catch them
I’ll remember joy, never the teardrops
Copyright © Russell Sivey
‘Til heaven quakes and hell erupts
Judge not the souls of man
But be brave and do not disrupt
The nature of a plan
Put into place and made with hands
Much, much superior
From where I stand and far more grand,
I am inferior.
Without water thy soul does rust
Water thy own garden
Believe in thee, in thee—I trust.
And receive thy pardon
From thy fierce and fiery hell
Of thy unwanted greed.
If not, I am destined to dwell,
Lost, with nowhere to feed.
Copyright © Mike Butler
Paper art was tongue steeped wet,
Midnight’s swim in gel.
Tactile only silhouette,
Dense unseen new shell.
Dawn’s hot shower could not clean,
Midday’s warmth woke me.
Slow cures had tapped time’s canteen,
Blotter’s spell rinsed free.
Contest: 7/5 Trochee
Sponsor: Andrea Dietrich
Copyright © rob carmack
We stand there mumbling side by side,
so many words that cannot rhyme
no pathway for love to reside,
transparent is the cloak of time.
His thoughts grow cold that interfere
with birdsongs through each frozen pause;
that words repeat but cannot hear
are signs why affection withdraws.
And as we trail of when and where,
the voice of fate calls from behind
misty like the scent of water;
our eyes now heavenly designed
to awaken hope beaming in gold
as cloudscape spills warm potpourri.
And just before he turns, behold!
He renews our vows of sanctity.
Faye Gibson's The Scent Of Water Contest
Copyright © nette onclaud
Standing thigh high on the riffle,
Feeling the current pull at my knees.
Breathing deep.. my world is calm now,
Winged beauty drifting by on the breeze.
My line floats out like a feather,
And patiently waits a strike from below.
My soul seeks the magic of water,
I'm lost in its ebb and its flow.
I admit its really not about catching,
I don’t care if the prey is that clever.
The light gently leaving the canyon,
I want to hold this moment forever .
Why to we fight daily battles
Looking for fortune or fame?
I turn from this life of unease,
The river is calling my name.
Copyright © Barbara Gorelick
Cold river run, November morn,
past village sleeping, day yet born.
Dark, murky waters pass the quay
absorb each sound along the way.
An ice-cold flow that numbs like death.
Those passing see white, misty breath.
Though laced with ice its soul must flow
to seek out deltas wide and slow.
Late fall has seen harsh wind and flake.
Cold river knows it's autumn's wake.
It drifts past field and icy glen,
and speaks the season's last, 'amen.'
Long past our village, down its course,
cold river warms without remorse.
It knows new waters meld upstream,
to speak November's frigid theme.
Cold River Run
Copyright © Brian Baumgarn
Strolling along Myrtle Beach
Collecting shells in the sand
The waves become hypnotic
And the mood moves into grand.
So many thoughts and memories
Come rushing back with the waves
Thoughts that flood and can’t be stopped,
Some get panned, but some are raves.
Again and again
They flow in and out
Life reliving every decision
Life reliving every doubt.
Then sanity reasserts
For the mind knows what it knows
And hypnosis grinds to a halt
With the sand between my toes.
By E. Marshall Evans
Copyright © Ed Evans
AT THE WATER'S EDGE
As I sit here at the water's edge
I let the sand sift through my toes
I watch the sun rise in the east
Turn the sky a glorious, summer rose.
As it rises 'bove the skyline
A burgeoning orb now glows
A globe of fire then bursts forth
As the waves lap gently 'round my toes.
By midday it's a blinding ball of fire
Pouring searing heat like Hades' pledge
The beach's sand absorbs the raging heat
But it's serenely cool here at the water's edge.
© ELR 2013
Copyright © Miss Wattle
In reservoirs, far underground,
where stalagmites are sometimes found.
In lakes and ponds and puddled pools,
in mist and marsh and snow that cools,
I hide beside my sisters.
In issuing springs that sparkle bright,
on stony slopes of shade and light,
to flowing streams that twist and turn,
past meadow banks of grass and fern,
I glide beside my sisters.
In river reach with rippling flow
‘tween rush and reed I always go,
to delta mouths both deep and wide,
which seas contest at every tide,
to glide beside my sisters.
In raging rapids torrents race,
or waterfall’s tumultuous pace,
in storm lashed seas, which crash and break,
on shingle shores that white waves rake,
I ride beside my sisters.
And who am I that rides so free,
who glides and hides so easily;
a mermaid in the salty sea,
a naiad or a white kelpie?
A water nymph you just might see,
me ride, beside my sisters.
Copyright © David Furlong
What drapes these aqua wavelets’ sultry trail
Along curled bends, creamy foams lift and rise?
Where toes and gulls splash fountains like a sail,
Paddling on rock ledges with gargled sighs
Dewdrops gloss salty brine through chromed rays
To warm the heart dancing with crystal flights,
As grains of ivory sand hurl tangy sprays
A dream-like scene taken from mermaid rites
Dolphins in frolic swivel hips on display
Cavorting with sunny air like splashed reel,
To play games , a water matinee
One, two rides on tides’ Ferris wheel
Lapping through buoyed floats with coral refrains
This my seashore adorns my wild private roam,
Keeping life’s odes, our tunes of summer remains
On bed of skin tan, she becomes my home.
Summer Contest of Debbie G
by nette onclaud
Copyright © nette onclaud
None of us could swim, from the river we were banned
Not allowed near the water without an adult holding a hand
When the adults were busy we went to play
Of course to the river our thoughts oft did stray.
A tin bath we found much to our delight
It would make a good boat so try it we might.
We were not allowed swimsuits as none of us could swim
So it was down to our birthday suits then we jumped in.
We took it in turns to sail in the bath
We didn’t think then of our parent’s fears or wrath
My brother decided a new game to play
Who could capsize the bath best - and still get away?
What fun playing in the hours of illicit gaming.
Capsizing and spitting out water with no complaining.
All went well until I tipped the bath near the drinking tree root
They sucked up and grabbed the bath for a hoot.
I turned the bath over and fell from inside
The tree roots clawed at me from the surface trying to hide
The fingers of the tree reached for me, holding and pinning me tight
The air from my lungs all gone - I never thought I would see the light.
A gasp as air rushed in, I could breath, I could see
And there were my friends and siblings all clapping at me
I had put on a good "act" of drowning they said
I had not the heart to tell them I thought I was dead.
We rubbed ourselves down with our clothes and dressed quick
All crossing our hearts, we would never tell our trick
I remember so well the dark grasping water back then
I learnt to swim quick before I went there again.
Copyright © Mandy Tams The Golden Girl
To tea or not to tea 'answered'
The ultimate taste in tea,
as it should always be.
There is tea and there is the perfect cup,
make perfect tea? Yes, for all to sup.
Right! Now we can start,
making perfect tea to warm your heart.
Warm your cup and your kettle boil,
no tea-bag yet or you will despoil.
Sugar in your cup to begin,
aye! Sugar or what-ever is your sin.
Next boiling water you may add,
still no tea yet, not one wee tad.
Stir your sugar until dissolved,
your perfect cup is nearly solved.
Now! Only now place your tea-bag,
let it sit there, let it lag.
Leave thirty seconds then jiggle your string,
Straight up and down, no wiggling.
It's up to you how many dumps you do,
the more dumps and the flavor will accrue.
Warm cup, boiling water equals 82 degrees,
The flavor will always be, just the Bee's knees.
Never pour boiling water on any tea-bag,
'cos the flavor will be just blidy, blidy sad.
Now taste your tea minus the 'tannin' shock,
You'll notice the difference, like cheese from chalk.
Many thousand cups of tea I have drank,
Use this recipe and you'll have me to thank.
The Auld Yin.
Copyright © Alex Gardiner
It has been many years since his daughter was lost
If he could bring her back he would at all costs
Ever since that day he has wandered and roamed
Turned his back on his family and their loving home
His life on the road left him disheveled and broke
When he thinks back to the past it leaves him in choke
Another day on his lonesome travels
A stranger he meets and their discussions unravel
This old man he has met all mysterious and dark
Told him of times going back as far as the Ark
Tales of the Templar's and Merlin the Magician
After hearing the mans story he began to begin
"I lost my daughter a number of years ago
She drowned whilst on holiday under a still water flow
I couldn't comprehend the loss of her life
The pressure of living, I left my home and my wife"
"What would you do if your girl could be returned
Have you ever wondered if fate could be unearned
If this was possible, would you offer your life
For your daughter to return to her mother your wife"
"Remember, many years have passed her death by
For her past to be relived, there is a reply
Knights of the ages will descend from their dark
They will then strike you down, as you begin your embark"
"My life I have not lived for many a year
For me to lose mine, I gladly volunteer
I will die happy for all eternity
Knowing my daughter will grow old, as it should be"
The old man chants a script of the past
Of an ancient time when fate was cast
The power of they to be able to reverse
To balance their return, they have to reimburse
"Midnight skies will turn to purple cobalt blues
Six Templar Knights will stand and surround you
At your request they will strike you down
On the sixth stroke, you will face your death gown"
"A light will appear of which you'll travel through
But before you do, a young girl runs to you
Your daughter, in pink and red will run from the light
She'll run through your soul, as your sleep starts tonight"
The old mysterious man continues on his way
As he passes a house on a hot Summers day
In the garden there sits, a daughter and mother
Discussing the loss of her father, as they begin to recover
She tells of the day whilst on holiday years ago
My husband your father, lost under a still water flow
As we comprehend the loss of his life
Leaving behind his daughter and wife
Copyright © James Fraser
The days are water
dripping, dropping globules
falling from somewhere high,
past the clouds,
past the trees,
past the hands of the thirsty
trembling on their knees.
Copyright © Ekso Ekso
Grassy plains and fields were blanketed by tar
Paved parking lots for vacant malls take their toll
Abuse of resources was taken too far
Ash spews from volcanoes, earthquakes on a roll
Brisk breezes bring relief; sultry, summer days
Be grateful as gentle gusts grace our land
When hurricane winds whip fiercely, homes are razed
An omen we’ve been chastised by nature’s hand
Fire provides comfort on chilly winter nights
But the explosion over Hiroshima
Demonstrates man’s abuse of the atom’s might
Keeping fire, emotions reigned, the dilemma
Water gave birth to our planet’s first life forms
Pollution, man-made disasters now rampant
Sea life endangered as ocean water warms
To preserve them, efforts must be diligent
Though elements withstand ravages of time
Diminishing resources reflect man’s crimes
*For Barbara Gorelick's Earth, Wind, Fire and Water challenge
Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire
Waterfall seems to be the major sight
Perfect view from where I stand over here
Water is a teal blue, so beautiful
And there is a white foam as not to scare
Within the water are small fish around
There are some great red ones and orange ones
They flutter, not caring that you are there
It makes me want to live here, it beckons
The water is cool but not quite so cold
Allowing me to just get in barefoot
It flows nicely after the waterfall
The sound is soothing, and is underfoot
Being out with nature just feels so good
A great beauty that I will always keep
The colors of the stone is surely grey
But other colors infuse during sleep
Copyright © Russell Sivey
You are the air that I breathe
The sunshine on my cheek
But a shadow of a dream
Mi belle magnifique
Copyright © Quincy Bee
Sunshine, life's primordial sustainer
Channeling to all, the sun's energy
Plant, animal, insect, fish or other
Without sunshine, not one of them would be
Sunshine can uplift your mood and spirit
When you are feeling gloomy and depressed
It can cheer you up to rise above it
And impart a pleasant feeling of zest
Sunshine brightens the colours of flowers
Making them come alive in their glory
It possesses some magical powers
That transforms plainness into beauty
Sunshine on the gently rippling water
Creates a display of sparkling diamonds
Reverberating like silent laughter
That induces blissful joy in response
Copyright © john beharry
As I'm standing in the shower
The water changes cold
Now head hid in the corner
Some tears start to mold
But I don't cry 'cause it's freezing
The chilly water just made me crack
Stacked on top of everything
And I try to choke sobs back
I can't let anyone hear me
I've never tried to whine
So I'll just suffer silently
Acting like I'm just fine
And in fact I've played myself
Denial to depression
Pretended I had happy wealth
And joy in my possession
And who am I? To focus on me?
Though it's a lie and truly fake
Others can have it just as badly
So I shouldn't fuss for their sake
So I take a deep and long inhale
Not wanting to open my eyes
To see the ugly truth unveiled
Just to put on my disguise
Copyright © Destiny Budd
A dance of elegance they leap
in grace of movements sweep
moonlights skipping on the waves
upon the circuits the currents paves
A Spanish Dancer twirls her skirt
whose painted like a rainbows shirt
Your works oh Jah blanket the Sea
where creatures frolic internally
Where Leafy Dragons in Reefs foray
the clown fish in anemone play
the razor fish like knives in sand
but foolish men think it's not planned
Where fierce and tender Orca steals
the infant pups of many Seals
where coral forests the oceans floor
the groves of Kelp hide many more
Odd companions the crab and shrimp
who share a hole like common tent
on flows the cisterns of the Deep
the lair where Leviathan do sleep
There flying fish cavort on wing
wild aquatic souls live and sing
here Dolphins cartwheel in escapade
in pods their dancing a parade
Who understands the Songs of Whales
who carry calves and smack their tails
to starfish who cling the rock of Beaches
here low tides the mussels reaches
These lives mankind has proved a danger
to poison Seas palace he is no stranger
Here predator man competes with Sharks
in every Sea his fatal marks
The Shark only does his hunt for meal
Mankind's a predator who kill and steal
Toxic pollution down rivers flow
the dead zones that kill the life below
Life perpetuates itself by designers plan
We question it's survival , it's death by Man
Those who love the earth these traits resist
There's too much beauty divinely kissed
COPYRIGHT © 2014 C Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC
Copyright © Poetryof Providence
The dreams inside my heart are never ending.
I find some comfort in the people I’m befriending.
I look all around to find a solution.
Maybe I’m just part of human evolution?
I think there is something locked inside the dream,
It just seems to flow, much like a rushing stream.
As the water passes by, I peek around the bend,
When I view before me, my heart begins to mend.
I can’t always wrap my mind around this,
Moments of despair, wrapped inside of bliss.
Sometimes they create balance inside of me,
Opening my eyes, so I am able to see.
Some I get while some I don’t understand.
Sometimes like a stranger from a far off land.
I gather up the pieces, hoping they will fit.
The answers are illusive on this bank I sit.
I watch as the water washes ashore,
I see in my heart I desire some more.
The ripples are like changes, sparkling with light,
Reminds me of the stars that appear every night.
I think I see something through the corner of my eye,
Perhaps it is the life that simply passed me by?
I seem to wonder often where the time just went,
A penny for your thoughts, For I only have a cent.
Copyright © Mark Russell
Though my boat be shaken and tossed,
Serenity is in the mind, in the soothed soul --
My spirit’s not aching or forsaken. Nor is it lost.
It needs no flow from smoothed shoal.
Not for me still waters, though they run deeply
In the placid pool behind a hinged lock-gate on a canal,
Or slowly with a meandering boat on the Mississippi.
I need contrast : this flowing peace is too banal.
Through a thunderstorm’s raging performance
And the torrent plunging itself to the abyss floor
Peace is in my mind : contrast between wild disturbance
And mild tranquility is my key to the locked poetry door.
Where the flowing tide consumes the sand,
With the week’s hunger of a wolf without balm,
And hurls it about as a carcass of land --
In this ocean storm with wave merciless, I feel only calm.
When the tumultuous shrieking wind and wave break
And spend themselves urgently on the silent sandy slope,
The tumblers of my locked imagination shake
Open, and I feel the lull and pull of peace and hope.
A child in a warm bed listens to the windy rain on pane
And feels the same catalysis : and, peeping at the driven rivulets,
Sees storms and hears the cries of lost sailors on the main,
And falls to sleep contented, secure beneath the coverlets.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Written by Sydney Peck on 24 September 2011
For Francine Roberts’s Contest “Flowing water”
Copyright © Sidney Beck