Paddling Poems - Poems about Paddling

Paddling on a swirling river. Her husband takes the right. His wife uses her powerful left hand. Oh, what a truly serene feeling. Gently gliding over the rippling water, As the moon mesmerises the sweet scene, Stars twinkle in the vast, darkening sunset sky. They paddle in a sing-song, singing off-key. One, two, kiss me sweet, kiss me soft. Moonlight dances on the rippling...

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Paddle your boat here With all your might keep paddling "Till you get ashore....

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Cool as a cucumber, he plopped down She looked and wondered why, but said, "Hi." Wishing she had turned her head with a sour frown The whole time thinking she wished she said bye She looked and wondered why, but said, "Hi." He was cool as a cucumber, so it seemed The whole time thinking she wished she said bye Deep down...

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Simple Joys Wishes for the simplest of joys, to watch her healthy, well-fed boy play in a paddling pool, on a sunny warm day bits of mowed grass stick to his legs, hands, as he stands up, by 16 months, so confident on his feet that he plays at making himself slip on the lawn how many have had this? --this joy-- she thinks about the early days...

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Nobody's perfect but I must be the exception This opinion of myself may be a misconception Ya gotta dream Keep paddling up stream The final day ain't that far from inception...

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Their canoe zigzagged as a snake. They enjoyed, splashing water. They were bold before the maelstrom. ‘Those days are gone, dear.’ He whispers, and she nods. Their canoe floats on the silver wavelets. They stare at a local gym’s advertising flex-board with pictures of skinned chickens in various poses to attract youngsters. Libraries have turned desolate cemeteries. Muscles of minds decay. She reads aloud Bacon, ‘Reading maketh a Full...

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Nobody's perfect but I must be the exception This opinion of myself may be a misconception Ya gotta dream Keep paddling up stream The final day ain't that far from inception...

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In the stream the thrill things unseen testing my feet with gentle nibbles...

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I was paddling down on the lake in my canoe Written By Dean Masciarelli August 2, 2010 (12:30am) I was paddling down on the lake in my canoe Waiting for the early morning sunrise and wishing that I could be right in front of you So that we could both look into each other eyes and enjoy the peacefulness that transformed in...

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High up in the air Row life’s dingy to heavens shore From way down below By Robb A. Kopp...

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(This is a fictional poem) In the seventh grade I had a bully for a teacher. He was ugly and he was indeed a horrible creature. He gave paddlings and that really got us kids annoyed. He smiled when he paddled because it was something he enjoyed. He gave over twenty paddlings a day. Even if we did no wrong, he'd...

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