Morning, the river belongs to the geese
Who congregate on the bank
Poke about in the grass
Run, take flight, and land on the water
Heave their wings to skim the surface
Noisy and honking, splashing
As they inhabit their domain
Afternoon, the river belongs to the people
Who gather as families and friends
Lying on the grass
Swing out on a rope and land in the river
Or climb in from the bank’s edge
Shouting and calling, splashing
As the inhabit their domain
Categories:
thames, humanity, nature,
Form: Free verse
I was Number One who fell for Jazz,
Other Genres ranking Razzmatazz
No finer sacrifice in Hard Rock;
If you demeaned Jazz, my gun I’d cock…
I laud the Great Lot Yanni’s Jazz has;
Bob’s keyboard that conveys one to Mars:
Waiting for me sweet complexity,
The path to it A Perplexity!
Rhythms from Experimental Minds:
Their demands The Gifted Player finds…
Rather American African
Than ‘Thought African American,’
US Citizenship not acquired
By players quite sure not required…
Jazz for announcing Tough Movies,
Romance promoting more than Grooves;
To Bad War Films A Salvaging Hype,
Each one of them made to seen one’s type…
Time to herald the sweat of Bob fames
By me rated above River Thames.
Categories:
thames, africa, america, imagination, inspiration,
Form: Rhyme
It was thought the young whale was pregnant
confused as she was and out of her depth.
They waded into the river to help,
floated rubber rafts to buoy her up.
Marine experts posited ways
to keep her breathing in shallow waters.
In dockyard pubs
hard men openly spoke of her plight,
voices low and humorless
as they test-drove new technical jargon.
When she died;
rolling in the pebbly shallows
we threw a tarpaulin over her
as if she were a human cadaver.
We had televised everything,
implemented elaborate plans,
recorded last moments with ripples of hope.
Later we watched the sluggish waves
wash away her long drowning.
~~~~~
https://www.ctvnews.ca/world/young-whale-trapped-in-london-s-river-thames-euthanized-1.5421060
Categories:
thames, poetry,
Form: Free verse
just dots upon
the greenwich sky
swinging london
from the air
with eyes wide shut
and riding high
across the thames
'where tourists dare'.
Categories:
thames, england, london,
Form: Rhyme
On the outer edge of Kemble
there’s a stone upon the green
where a spring becomes a trickle in a pond.
It seeps and then it flows
under bridges as a stream
towards the narrowboats of Lechlade and beyond.
There is peace and so much beauty
from The Isis* to The Thames
winding dreams around the spires along its course.
It flows on through The Tideway
'til its journey finally ends
at The North Sea many miles from its source.
* The Isis is an alternative name given to the River Thames from its source in the Cotswolds until it is joined by The Thame (a Thames tributary) at Dorchester in Oxfordshire - after which it is more generally referred to as The Thames.
Categories:
thames, london, river,
Form: Rhyme
Thames
A geographical nature
Hidden behind a coin
Invisible
Poets took me to sit on the Banks of Thames
Via literature!
Categories:
thames, creation, growth, literature,
Form: Blank verse
It was thought she was pregnant
confused as she was
and out of her depth.
They waded into the river to help.
They floated rubber rafts to buoy her up.
Marine experts posited ways
to keep her breathing in shallow waters.
In dockyard pubs
hard men openly spoke of her plight,
voices low and humorless
as they test-drove new technical jargon.
When she died;
rolling in the pebbly shallows
we threw a tarpaulin over her
as if she were a human cadaver.
We had done our best, had televised everything,
implemented elaborate plans,
recorded last moments with ripples of hope;
watched the sluggish waves
wash away her long drowning.
Categories:
thames, poetry,
Form: Free verse
The place where your butterflies flitter
free in the meadow,
licking the ambulant stream,
the dew from life's vessels,
perspirant milk of purity honey-
Bursting from out of the seams.
The shine of the little fluttering-Bearcat,
pillar of change,
for seasons changelings stage buttering.;
In that; constant, source of inspirationing,
constantly in ironys schemes.
Vacation on vocational vexillology,
Vocation-vacationing
in the spring.
I hope you always find yourself a wonder-pleasuring.
A pleasure in-wondering at home in the free of bond.
But never in singularity.
Never reeling, never changing.
Always becoming to the laeity of the des-parity.
A Carrier to Carry-On.
Categories:
thames, allegory, angel, april,
Form: Rhyme
When I thought of Leaving this ancient Town,
I thought of you!
Your dark winding, swirling waters,
Gifted from distant Hills,
You're Dangerous undercurrents,
and your gentle tides,
I hear you Calling like a jealous lover,
Your long reaching limbs never
far away,
Reaching out to Embrace this town,
This City,
This soul,
This home of Contradictions,
Like a magnet, you draw us to your muddy
shores,
To let history bury our mortal
treasures,
Your silent rushing waters,
Your bursting veins of life,
Always flowing,
Taking away our noise, our clutter,
Our Sins,
Pushing them along to a bigger place,
To an open sea.
John Roberts
Categories:
thames, forgiveness, friendship love, love,
Form: Imagism
The Thames...always held intrigue....Europe..
the lights of the river glistening..as the Thames comes alive as only she can...
Yachts sail gently through near making a sound...Rivers always have that effect ..as we look across the moon lit bay ...the breeze saunters ...english bagpipes play hauntedly...setting the quisessential theme for the night...
As we drink our wine ..beneath the umbrella..of a quaint but ever so charming cafe...candle lights..the flames..highlight your eyes..they are alive..twinkling as the stars above..,laughing gleefully ,we being in a world of our own..Couples walk around,..young British teens..doing what teens do...making fun of everything and everyone....different languages ..french..german.
and us speaking patwa..
I cant but help think ...this is the life...
And i am so blessed to have married you..
Categories:
thames, adventure, beautiful, culture, england,
Form: Free verse
The mist in Regent Gardens air
awakes a single rosebud there.
Her scent drifts past Trafalgar Square -
England’s summer has begun.
The rising sun above the Thames
shines brighter than a crown of gems;
peeks through the panes of Buckingham
until the day is done.
Saint James Park invites the dawn
as sunbeams nudge the regal lawn.
Grass blades spread their arms and yawn:
"Good Morning, Summer day!"
Big Ben chimes a fond embrace
whilst daybreak warms his noble face.
Tower Bridge can sense sweet grace -
Summer’s song is on Her way.
Chiffchaffs adorn the royal parks
as children’s voices trill like larks.
Blooming dogwoods deftly bark
in praise of Summer’s song.
Purple lilacs perfume the breeze.
Lombard's merchants aim to please.
Harrods unfurls green canopies
to shade the heated throng.
Piccadilly Circus burns so bright.
Vibrant neons illume the night.
A merry moon beams with delight -
enthralled by Summer’s spell.
Bells of St. Paul sing me goodbye,
as o'er the River Thames I fly.
My heart begins to sigh, as I
bid my London Summer - farewell.
Inspired by:
Summer Enchantment Rhyming Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Karen Neary
Categories:
thames, nature, sea, seasons, upliftingsummer,
Form: Rhyme