Poetry Water Poems

These Poetry Water poems are examples of Poetry poems about Water. These are the best examples of Poetry Water poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Prose Poetry |
Being here is like being in the womb
Of the woman who carried you in this warm
Safe pool where all your worries were how to
Move your arm, how to not get entwined in that
                     Weird rope in the middle.

The water is cold, but not too, and if you close your eyes
You can imagine, you can JUST imagine what it feels like
To be so free again, and looked after and cared for
You can JUST hear voices quarrelling
And this very instant you realise this water is not
Your mother’s love just below her heart, her love
Is here all around you and she will worry if you float
                     On and on.

Most times this is how life is, trying to get a grip on it
But it evades like the little waves you can make with your hands
Little ripples in the surface that mean nothing
Like trying to get a grip on what people say around you
Words without meaning or at least it eludes you
As if swimming between fish with their own language
Forever trying to guess
                     And being rejected

Once you liked to swim,
Once you were a wee one
So with slow calculated strokes you move to safety
And sit shivering.
Not knowing how to live life and connect
Nor knowing how to stop life.
Once you loved to swim, hearing your mother
Sing to you from a distance. And that sound brings you
                     Back home again.

***

April 28, 2017
Copyright © Darren White

Copyright © Darren White | Year Posted 2017




Details | Acrostic |
B  ridge Over Troubled Water...
R  ealizing I am not above trouble...
I  am human to a fault...
D ecisions in life to be crossed...
G  od knows my life stands at the alter...
E  ternity is my bridge over troubled water...

O  ver Troubled Water...
V  ictory in the mist of my troubles...
E  ven when I make the same mistakes...
R  ivers of troubled water will take place...

T  roubled Water...
R  eality sinks in, through the flow of the river...
O  nly that can be seen, by the unseen eye...
U  nderneath the bridge there lies...
B  eneath the waters that flow...
L  ies awaiting the answer to our call...
E  very decision that can be made over...
D  ecides our destiny through troubled waters...

W  ater...
A  s clear as the answer to our troubles...
T  akes us on to a new life...
E  ternity, forever illuminated by the living Christ...
R  ealizing that He is the answer to, Bridge Over Troubled Water... 

By:  Cinda M Carter

Contest...Bridge Over Troubled Water

2-26-14

Acrostic

Copyright © Cinda Carter | Year Posted 2014

Details | Light Poetry |
Deep is the water of the lagoon
filled with many kinds of things
the more you look the more you see
reflected clouds floating in the water

A host of wondrous plants on the banks
little fish darting hither and tither
tall reeds are casting mottled shadows
deep down a big catfish lies in ambush

The cool waters a pure bliss to watch
rippling waves setting off flashes
different colours glint and shatter
like light beams hitting coloured shards

The tranquillity of this magical place
calls out to me beckoning me closer
I lay on the grassy bank trailing a hand
in the soft water and feel I am restored

Keep this place secret just for us to share
come here whenever the outside world is too much
here a blissful peace awaits to bathe you
to bring comfort and soothe away the daily pains

Copyright © Shadow Hamilton | Year Posted 2013




Details | Light Poetry |
I was a happy little water droplet
Playing in a cloud
Until lightning struck 
And thunder clapped loud
Stopping all my mirth
Dropping me to earth

Joining many others
Of my sisters and brothers
Bobbing wild and rampant
In a surging torrent
Towards a dam
Causing quite a jam

In a pipe so black
With no way back
Chlorinated pure
Like I’ve never been before

Jailed in a tray
With cells all the way
Frozen in a cube until used
Dropped into whisky
Making me quite frisky

To the sound of “Cheers”
I disappeared
Down a gullet to a stomach
Mushed to and fro

Told to go
To a loo full of poo
Down a sewer full of mice
That really was not nice

Finally to the sea
Where I was free
To have some fun
Floating in the sun.

Feeling emancipated
Zap!. Evaporated
Into a happy little water droplet
Playing in a cloud
Hoping not to hear the thunder clapping loud.

Copyright © Patrick Maitland | Year Posted 2012

Details | Light Poetry |
I told my Hubby I needed a fountain to help the words to flow.
It seems in the shower my creative juices, really know how to go.
My Hubby says it’s because I become relaxed, in body and in mind.
That releases everything to flow with ease and in record time.

But then he stated it might also be: the water pounding on my head.
It’s beating me senseless to release the flow and to open it up, instead.
This may be true with a hard head like mine, sometimes it needs a touch.
But I think a fountain would be way more fun, and not hurt near so much.

And what would be more beautiful, than water as it’s simply cascading around.
My lovely birds could have a drink, as my barriers come tumbling down.
My Trolls could frolick and play all day in water as the sun comes beating down.
My dogs would jump to catch the droplets as they fall upon its crown.

And all I need is to get a basket to collect my wandering thoughts.
Truly nothing could be more worthwhile, no matter what the cost.
Droplets falling thru my thoughts would become a rainbow for my mind.
With a prism throwing forth-countless words, to arrange within record time.

I wish! I wish! Oh, how I wish! To bring forth this dream of so much renown.
So many words bubbling to the surface, before they’d come tumbling down.
They’d fill my mind, and fill my soul… before touching each other’s soul.
My fountain would finally be complete, as cascading words did achieve this goal.

Now I truly know, I’ll have no fountain, or any great renown.
Still I am grateful, for the few, who’ve read the words, which I have written down.

Written by Carol Eastman

Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2013

Details | Light Poetry |
The little thrill as the wave’s ripple in
Making the hairs stand up, on the surface of my skin.
The kiss of the sun with its warm breath so light
As it soothes my skin with warmth and delight.
The sand rolls around where my hands touch it soft.
The water rolls back and forth carrying pebbles aloft.
Setting shells down with rolling grains of sand 
Making minute rivers run from the fingers of my hand.
The blue of the sky so pale and so pretty
On the horizon I can see the outline of the city.
Birds bob on by walking in the sand,
Not caring that I’m there lying on their land.
Curiously watching me, little eyes darting here and there
Watching for what, I don’t know or care.
A tiny emerald green beetle scuttles on past 
Taking no notice of me, but from the birds, rushes on fast.
The sun is setting; it’s time to go back
The tide has come in but it needs to get back
The coastguard come out and asks so polite
Please can you move, the tide needs to leave tonight.
You have laid there so long, blocking the way
Can you please go back - so the water can flow away?
The ships need to sail and the trawlers come in
But you are blocking the way as you are not that thin.

Copyright © Mandy Tams The Golden Girl | Year Posted 2012

Details | Quintain (English) |
                             I
The winds were loudly whistling,
Blowing the trees’ leaves all around;
God sneezed and misty rain fell to the ground;
In an instant, blades of green grass began to glisten.
 
                           II

The lightening choreographed its self
Throughout the air;
In the far distance, the loud thunder
Was heard clashing;
The heavily burdened clouds had taken in
All they could bare…
Suddenly, giant balls of pelting hail began
Their icy trashing…

                         III
Curious about the rain caused strife,
   The sun peeped to investigate;
Unaware—the Devil was beating his wife,
   The sun’s concern was a bit too late.

                        IV
It’s known, rain is no friend to the desert’s growth;
And that floods care less where they might spread.
   Such strange fellows are the both;
   Happily sharing the same old bed…

Copyright © millard lowe | Year Posted 2015

Details | Light Poetry |
The cotton candy clouds melted in my mouth
as I flew over the menacing tiger who was crouched
with his mouth open catching all my loose teeth
I flew away quickly not wanting to be within his reach,

Then before I knew it I was traveling on a speeding train
in a cabin looking out the window at the torrential rain
the train now floating haphazardly in the rising water
I swam out the window and used a cushion as a floater,

I kept floating losing my attire in the swift current
till I reached a town standing naked in front of a merchant
who pointed and gasped until embarrassed I ran away
into a crowd of onlookers who gasped with dismay,

Running away down the sidewalk I looked at my feet
which were dry and cracked from the searing heat
fully dressed again I was once more a pigtailed youngster
pedaling quickly away from some invisible monster,

Next thing I was in my bathing suit frolicking in a big wave
getting knocked down I felt like I was in a daze
suddenly I felt a strangers warm compassionate hand
pick me up out of the water and place me on dry land,

To which my alarm suddenly woke me up out of my hazy dream
disheveled I tried to remember it as I looked out the window screen.






1-20-18








Copyright © cheryl hoffman | Year Posted 2018

Details | Haiku |
Peace of nature shows
how relaxing life can be
and can show you truth 

Copyright © Christian Childs | Year Posted 2013

Details | Light Poetry |
Hubby will NEVER let Dragon and me go to a pet store! Ever! Again!
It started when we needed Dog chow for all our really big dogs… then…
Dragon found the fish, with some being sold for only 15 cents apiece…
We were told; they’re sold for others to eat. Oh, No! Say it isn’t so! EEP!

Now, we believe, in save the whales, and every other gall darn thing.
And Dragon and I believe that the heart grows with everyone added in.
We were ready to cry, so we made a simple Momma and Dragon, foray.
We decided to save two more lives and then to bring them home. Yeah!

Don’t know how it happened, our plan got out of hand, but it was so grim!
We went back, many times, buying them all, filling our tank to the brim,  
We spread the word, to help the goldfish, and so others hearts could grow.
Hubby said they had to go, so we gave them to people every where, so… 

With 4 remaining, we decided to keep them at our house, safe and sound.
But low and behold, they kept growing quickly bigger, as they swam around!
Dragon wanted to take the goldfish for a walk, and to play with Santa Jack.
And the penguins kept coming around, looking for their midnight snack!

OK, maybe we didn’t think this thru, Yet, Tho, Still, Something wasn’t right!
They’re growing way to fast! From a 10 gallon tank to 150… In a week? 
OK! Dragon what did you do? You took your Elvin magic gift, given to you?
OK! Spit it out! What did you do! You sprinkled the four fish, a little, did you?

Oh! NO! So we put them into the lake! And before The Elfin King was found…
We had the first Fresh Water Goldfish Whales, ever were or are… to be found!
We started the first Midwest Whale herding society, and when the Elvin King…
Was found, He & Grandpa Troll, were joyously rolling, in tears, on the ground!

By this time, like Dragon, they needed tons of food to eat…so we decided  to…
Rent them out, to eat Asian Carp, who are, menacing, destructive & misguided!
Darned if it didn’t work! You know! Serendipity, low and behold! The answer!
The Agricultural Department was happily beside themselves… That is after…

They got over, that quirky and somewhat strange, Goldfish Whale, thingy part!
So, life goes on happily, especially for those Goldfish Whales munching on carp.
And yes, they’ve finally stopped growing, I am happy to say, and have big hearts.
And those menacing Asian Carp won’t be such a menace, from now on... Today!

As, ‘Alls well, that ends well’… and with great relief… I am wont to say...
And now Nobody's eating these babies, after Dragon had his way!

Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2014

Details | Quatrain |
A test of the water,
A dip of my toe.
Undeniably chilly,
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 | Year Posted 2015

Details | Prose Poetry |
                      A Journey With The Wind.

I had a dream that felt greater than reality, lost on earth
wearing a gown bare feet bleeding leaving behind traces 
for my sons to find me.

My hand was begging reaching out suddenly, a feeling 
I held the wind, yes the wind in the palm of my hand a friend, 
to join me through that journey toward the ocean, knowing it 
will soon fly away, who can hold the wind and make it belong, 
I did.

Wind Oh wind, meet my sons, whisper my name they are the 
ones who care, they will rescue me even blind folded, they will 
smell my bodies odor and sense where I am. 

Oh wind, you are the only one here on this earth I feel your presence, 
fly away now carry a tear place it on their cushion and deliver my 
message to them, I will wait even forever, bring them back to me.

My friend my wind, search for them, find them knock, on their window 
If they are sleeping they will wake up & run towards me follow my blood 
trail find their way to carry me softly & cure my scars wipe away my
tears & fear of drowning alone at the shore.

Suddenly the light faded darkness took over covering the brightness 
away I pledged, mother nature I am not yet ready, sun do not burn 
and light a fire, Oh sun where are you , don't leave me alone, I started humming my babies melody to be heard 
and come to my rescue.

Deprived to see them in the morn for years, deprived to look in their 
eyes, deprived to eat with them, drink with them, deprived to smell their 
perfume, destiny was against me due to the war in our country, for 
years they were always flying away around this earth, to settle.

I felt cold shivering, suddenly the warmth of my children's breath 
around gave me the strength I needed, Wind! my friend! you 
found them and carried them across the ocean,Oh, the look into 
each others eyes cannot be describe, for the first time I felt they 
were real we fixed for seconds but a whole book can be created 
through the emotions and communications that occurred during 
those precious moments, 
a language of its own.

The echoing of their voices was heard, what can we say mum except 
we love you for being there when we needed you,we love you because 
of who you are, we love you because you care, we love you for not sinking 
during our absence because we needed you on the shore, together listen
to nature`s beauty, birds twittering, fish whispering, 
waves dancing & splashing.

We love you because you find life in everything you touch, and if not, 
you blow life into everything, we love you, your breath has kept 
us alive, your breath is as strong as the wind that carried us to you. 
Come on mum, it was a long journey with the wind on this earth 
for all of us, lets go home, together. 


 Contest,Earth Fire Water Wind for Debbie Guzzi   (WIN Honorable Mention) Therese Bacha
26/4/2013                                                           


Copyright © Therese Bacha | Year Posted 2013

Details | Dizain |
We are out on a small pond in a boat A blue row boat floating on the surface I recite lovely poems that I wrote The moment is electric sent with grace I softly touch her smooth skin on her face We face each other with a tender look Seeing how our love is read like a book We’re sent slowly into the pond beyond Our gaze and our souls aligned on a hook A kiss on the mouth is how we respond Russell Sivey

Copyright © Russell Sivey | Year Posted 2014

Details | Light Poetry |
I always wonder in a philosophical way
Who I am? Does God have my dossier?

I exist, of this I am sure
The IRS calls yearly asking for more

I dreamed of being Poet and King
Seems one has to be Royal to wear that ring

The purpose of life, well seems so unsure
A night out with me though, is never a bore

I have painted towns red, as I drowned in last calls
I always had company, cute lasses and dolls

Life is full of twists and turns
There is no map as we are led to the urn

I was quite surprised, at this time in my life
To find out my fate is to bring you all strife

So batten the windows
And board up your doors

For I am full of wind and hot air
I shall come from the sea and I am on a tear

I am Arthur, no poet or King
I am the Hurricane, and its hell that I bring

July 4. 2014, Arthur became a Category 2 hurricane Thursday evening. The U.S. National Hurricane Center predicted it would swipe the coast early Friday with winds of up to 136 km/h.

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2014

Details | Verse |
Standing out in a field alone, a little white flower named Daisy longed for someone to share her world.
One day a blue flower named Bachelor Button entered her world they became friends.
 She knew by his name that he was not the propagating kind, but that didn’t stop their relationship she called him BB short for best bud.
The seasons of Spring & Summer they enjoyed the sun, laughed in the rain and held on fast in the Fall.
Winter came it was long and hard they were both covered in a blanket of snow, not knowing whether they would ever see each other again or even survive .The snow fell     then came the ice, this went on for months.

The Sun shone brightly the first day of spring. A few days later warmth of the sun melted the snow, Daisy popped up .
 I’ve been waiting days for you to come out, said BB, they both chanted hooray!
The snow was completely gone in a few days, the birds started building their nests , bugs were crawling around ,butterflies began to visit the two flowers. I wish there were more of us Daisy said, to BB.

They laughed as the sun and wind blew through their leaves.  Then it started the sun and rain took turns until one morning the air & field was filled with the smell of flowers.
 
Daisy and BB looked at each other and asked what kind of flowers are these ? they’re not white like daisies they’re not blue like bachelor buttons. They did not know the birds and bugs carried the seeds from the two of them and the caterpillars buried them under the soil.
The seeds from the new flowers were then carried by the winds many miles away, they landed in fertilized gardens and flourished, although they faced danger everyday. 
as they were called WEEDS ..
 The Gardener pulls weeds out of the garden so they don’t choke the flowers, which cost a lot of money and require lots of maintenance.

However there was a Gardener who saw her friends spending hours weeding their garden , that they didn’t have enough time to admire and enjoy the labors of their love
So she set out to give a home to all the weeds ,she provided a place where they could fit in and multiply, they required no maintenance, rain provides their water .

The best part of all is their beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
 Ask my granddaughter-- What are those flowers in the garden ?
  She will answer "WILDFLOWERS " their parents were Daisy and BB

Copyright © kj force | Year Posted 2013

Details | Prose Poetry |
Let's wait for the sunset one summer's day
down by the river where I always liked to play
we can kick off our shoes and bury our feet in the sand
come on please be my sweet river man
We can call the wild geese up with a little dab of feed
or jump in the water a little too deep
in that old Red River we can laugh and sing
take me by the hand, make that leap

Write our names in a heart in the sand
you can be my sweet river man
and I'll be your sweet lady river friend
we can hold on for life and scare the catfish twice
anything’s possible that time of day
my white sundress is a little bit dirty
from that red water that always stays so murky

I wouldn't want to be any other place
than down by the river where I always liked to play
and when the moon comes out tonight
and the stars shine bright
your sweet river lady
is going to sing to her sweet river man under the moonlight

watch those stars shooting in the dark as you hold me tight
until we see the sun start to rise
yeah down on the river where I always liked to play
nothing’s changed much since I was just a babe
but now I share with my sweet river man, my favorite place to play

Copyright © Danielle Wise Baxter | Year Posted 2012

Details | Light Poetry |
I am who I was born to be

Another voice of sanity
Maybe crazy, but do you know?

Art nouveau, in words I paint

Greatness of the pen, this is me
Eternal thoughts into ink I write
Nothing escapes this brilliant mind
I compose for those who see, and those whom are blind
Universal wisdom's, happiness in verse
Salvation or wine, the poison is free






Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2013

Details | Prose Poetry |
There is an old saying....
keep your friends near, but keep your enemies even closer...

This is a poem about a very smart Chick...
Who was very resourceful and very slick...
Rumor had it there was a Wolf, and he had a way...
Of taking advantage of everyone on any given day...
He had terrorized the neighborhood for the very last time...
They had a town meeting , and all agreed...
That the only choice was a dastardly deed... 
Chick volunteered to take on the challenge...
And majority stated, he had to explunge...
“I’d love to have you over for dinner on Friday “ said Chick...
To which Wolf stated quite arrogantly, but quick...
It would be my pleasure...see you at eight...
There was a beautiful shining Harvest Moon, when Wolf arrived at the gate...
Come sit in my hot tub, said Chick turning on some tunes...
Dinner should be ready very soon...
The water is hot , said the Wolf...
Ahh , but your body will feel so much better...
Just relax and drink this wine, dinner will have much more flavor... 
Hours went by...then the doorbell rang...
It was the Pigs,  from town known as the “ gang “...
Quick grab a chair and please be aware ...
That I have slaved all day for this affair...
One which will change your perception of me...
I might be a Chick, but as you will see...
I have accepted the challenge, and done my best...
So do me a favor and please honor my request ... 
Use your best table manners, and please do not squeal...
And for everyone’s sake, try not to “ Wolf “ down this  meal...




Copyright © kj force | Year Posted 2014

Details | Light Poetry |
My faucets run cold, what IS this about?
My hot-water-heater-tank pilot light's out!
Press down that red button and click 'til I pout
Then spew out a string (my religion in doubt)

My stove-top still lights, I can still take a bath!
Boil three piping pots full (I HOPE that will pass)
Teeter and totter like I'm walkin' through glass----
The stopper ain't stoppin', you STUPID dumb-ass!!

Copyright © Tim Ryerson | Year Posted 2013

Details | Lyric |
Written August 21, 2013


There's a girl in the garden
She's messing with your rose bed
Plucking weeds out from your head
And watering the seeds in your bed

But where will she wander
When the roses are dead
Will she come back for more
When they turn back to red

She can run all alone
Write this story in stone
On concrete slabs
Of skin and bone

Copyright © Brandon Carter | Year Posted 2013

Details | Prose Poetry |
   



THE FLOOD…

		        And it shall come to past, when  I shall bring
                                    a cloud over the earth, that the bow shall be
		       seen in the cloud…and the waters shall no 
                                   more become a flood to destroy…
		       

Memories are like tombstones:
Silent epitaphs of life.

We prepared well for the fire next time;
But the thunder came: wailing clouds
Released their sobbing tears

The crescendo passage of the river’s womb
Overflowed her loins; wetness
Saturating the helpless earth.

Stunned by the surge of the water’s fury,
We sandbagged hope; anchored by our faith,
we levied our destinies on the upper banks of time.

What sins had we forgotten to pray forgiveness for? 
How long had we cursed the drought?  Who Could stop the tears of God?

Cringing beneath the cloud, whining… 
We wiped away our tears; waiting on the crest.
In the tears of God; we waited on the dove: soaring

Skies; sailing in the mist of the bow’s rays;
Refracted by the savory tears of God.

Copyright © millard lowe | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme |
A burning golden river.
A thousand ember dots.
Whose endless waking slivers,
Hide liquid molten knots

A contented purring timbre 
Of viscous weary rock,
Caught in eyes of amber
And weeping molten locks

Its ingot rivlet ripples
Wafting whispers in the air.
Its quaking thunder trickles,
Build shaking sunder mares

Brushing one another,
Aurus tears they bleed
Darkened flesh they smother,
In dripping gilded creed

Burning golden river,
A weaving flame no more
Dusty charred banks quiver
Slaked in starlit gore.


7/17/15

Copyright © Avery Swarthout | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |
A Poem to love 

To day I am placing here a great Hindi poem of a renowned poet
Translated by me as a poem which I hope would touch your mind 
And heart intensely.
From the day I read this poem in between a play its wordings
Have touched me very deeply.

Since the poem is a beautiful piece of poetry by a great Indian
Hindi writer, poet, dramatist and story writer I am trying to
Bring its translation as much I could make from my mind without
Claiming that this is the best.

Brief background story for poetry soup lovers to judge the poem 
In light in the light of its real beauty:

The heroine who was in the age of sweet sixteen was in love
With someone very intensely, but his actual lover ask her to
Show her love for someone else for obtaining a greater result
For the sake of his motherland and the heroine tries to love
Some one else, who asked a price for the same and gave only
Pains and agonies to her. But, when she sees her actual love 
Her hearts is willing to welcome him and how- you will see 
In this beautiful poem:
Translation of the poem of Jai Shanker Prasad a great Hindi poet.
Jaishankar Prasad (January 30, 1889 – January 14, 1937), 
one of the most famous figures in modern Hindi literature

“Intoxicated by the wine of youth, in the age of sixteen
She cared only to love 
And to whom she should give her heart, 
She had no desire to know
And the one to whom she sold her precious heart,
Was asking a price for the same
The greedy even took away
The only treasure of pains and memories from her

She felt dusty storms were rising in her heart
And her love was coming totally unaware,
She thought to sprinkle water running from her eyes to  
Make the path slippery 
So that her love may walk slowly 
And she may behold her love, a little more
The longing of her life may get fulfilled
And her hopes may get a base to stay a little more

She knew all the steams of the world would be running from her eyes
Making it more difficult to recognize her face  
As the deep sea in her eyes would be splashing water on her face”

Only translation is made by me and the poem in Hindi belongs to
Late Jai Shanker Prasad.

Ravindra
Kanpur   India  29th January 2010  





 

Copyright © Ravindra K Kapoor | Year Posted 2010

Details | Sonnet |
Rivers roll, across the lands
and their song is heard, by many ears.
While oceans roll, upon the sands 
and cry their crystal tears.

The tides will help to cleanse the earth; 
sand-showers; they are free.
Though ocean-lands, may have a wide girth;
the tides will find it, yes siree!

Water is the source of life; 
a precious, roaming gift.
A lack of water, produces strife
and sands, they cannot shift.

So pray, the rain, will always come.
To water’s music; life must hum.

Copyright © M. L. Kiser | Year Posted 2014

Details | Prose Poetry |
A gray dawn, a dark twilight.
 Daybreak, dawn, dusk.
A flash of lightening across the horizon.
 Windswept trees, in all bent shape, 
Such is the result due to harsh winds 
 That travel for miles and miles.
And we have no knowledge from where it came from
 Or where it is going.
But that its travel continues across the daunting mass
 Called; Ocean.
Oh how it churns the water.
 I can feel the mist and spray cover my body
And tingle my hands.
 Standing in the shallow the air blows about me
With sandy hair raging like fire, slapping my face.
 A feeling of unknown,
Watching angry waves become violent.
 And a shiver of coldness, trembles my body.
A sense of peace,
 I have one thought;
Where did it come from?                                       

Copyright © Elizabeth Brown | Year Posted 2015

Details | Quatrain |
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.

*side note*

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 | Year Posted 2013

Details | Prose Poetry |
These forgotten badlands are arid and parched. It’s felt the blistering, desert hot winds.
Turbulent gritty sand storms have crossed these lands. What was once lively, thriving is 
now only a desolate, thirsty terrain. After being drought-ridden for so long, the ground is 
hard, unyielding even to the smallest root.  Even vultures have stopped flying overhead 
for how can something die if everything is already dead?Day after desiccated day, the sun 
beams down, relentless. Although the night is somewhat welcoming, it is still so thick and 
humid that it doesn’t provide much comfort. But there’s a scent in the air….something 
somewhat familiar but from ages ago. There’s a change in the atmosphere…and an eerie 
silence that stretches for miles, like time has stood still. Splat! There…a scattered, dark 
circle on the ground…disappearing almost instantly. Suddenly, the scorching sky breaks 
open. Rain…cool, wet liquid…it does exist. Looking across the horizon, you can see it. Like 
a silky veil draping over the lands in a steady, fluid motion. There is no other sound 
around…just the sound of this drumming rain landing, making everything it touches glisten 
and gleam like diamonds. Giving drink to a once thought unquenchable territory, it opens 
up wide and soaks it all in. The water running, dripping into the trenches that were only 
once small cracks…..reaching depths unknown to bring forth life of what was once dead. If 
there were such a smell as years of dehydration and depravity finally receiving 
sustenance, this smell would be it. Such a beauty to behold…so much water that it stands
in pools until this hardened ground can learn what it’s like to soften in order to accept it. 
It’s everywhere, can you see it? Abundant, unwavering water. Everything has been so 
barren, you can see for miles…but…wait..what’s this? Something so small that you would 
almost miss it. Emerald green, a majestic inch…a sprout….a sprout of hope….a sprout of 
life…

Copyright © A Rambling Righting Riley - Shauna Riley | Year Posted 2011

Details | Rhyme |
Fire burns within our spirits, forging the fate of our soul. And upon exaltation its flame envelopes us whole. Water's essential to life, that started in the ocean. And flows within every cell like a magical potion. Air fills our lungs with each breath, oxygenating our blood. And takes carbon dioxide, allowing flora to bud. Earth is essential for health, storing minerals we need. And all those trace elements, are absorbed each time we feed. We're fire, water, air and earth, some alchemist understood. And strove to share their insights, throughout the ages best they could.

Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2013

Details | Light Poetry |
Bring out your white, bring out your red,
Bring out the grapevine's daughter,
Enough to fill a waterbed,
We'll drink it down like water,

Pour it cold, pour it cool,
Pour it a little hotter,
Fill the glass - the golden rule,
Sobriety to slaughter.

Like rivers flowing with the tide,
Wine to soak the blotter,
Wine to fill the oceans wide,
Wine to drink like water.

Toast your sainted mother sure,
And toast your alma mater,
Pick up a wee dram o' the pure,
And down the hatch like water.

Whiskey smooth as ermine pelt,
Or mayhap that of otter,
Here me lad, let's have a belt,
We'll take it down like water.

If you want a hearty brew,
Then I will be your spotter,
Quite a lineup will ensue,
We'll pound 'em down like water.

Leaning on a beggar's crutch,
The merest rabble squatter,
With glass in hand I thirst as much,
As any kingly yachter.

Whether 'tis crystal with golden rim,
Or clay from the local potter,
Fill that bad boy right to the brim,
Then it gets my imprimatur.

Set the bottles, and set me a glass,
I'll mow them down like excess fodder.
Nectar of the gods or cuvée crass,
I'll knock it back like water.

The thirsty man with teetotaling wife,
'Twon't be long before he's fought her,
Serve the liquid love, avoid the strife,
He'll drink it down like water.

Scheme to take my booze away,
Ye righteous little plotter,
Ye may pay, and ye may pray,
But it's going down like water.

I'll slug it back - the sweet, the dry,
Enough to weave and totter,
Tomorrow I'll wake thirsty, aye,
And probably need some water.

Copyright © Doug Vinson | Year Posted 2016

Details | Prose Poetry |
Gasping for air. . . you strain your neck; stretching..you look around, checking.
Struggling to keep the pace. . . you're movements, fluctuating; you panic, you try floating.
Screaming for help. . .  no one is around, you wish for a miracle; you're wheezing, yelp not helping.
Giving, no one is reaching. . . the waves starting to bring you down; you fight, your Will diminishing.
Vanishing. . . your light dimming; They look from afar, will they notice you're drowning?

Copyright © Jesson Rata | Year Posted 2013