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Poems On / About RIVER  7/22/2014 12:26:49 PM
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Best Poems About / On RIVER
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The River

The river’s a wanderer, a nomad, a tramp.
He doesn't choose any one place to set up his camp.

The river’s a winder, through valley and hill.
He twists and he turns, he just cannot be still.

The river’s a hoarder and he buries down deep.
Those little treasures that he wants to keep.

The river’s a baby, he gurgles and hums
And sounds like he’s happily sucking his thumbs.

The river’s a singer, as he dances along
The countryside echoes the notes of his song.

The river’s a monster, hungry and vexed
He’s gobbled up trees and he’ll swallow you next.
Luke Rylands

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The River that is no more

Decades three and half gone by
The last flood of the river that is no more I recall
Till then the river called NEVA if not perennial
Flowed calmly eight to ten months every year
A source of life for hundreds of acres
Spreading to its length both the sides
Wells in the villages never went dry
With abundant springs originating from the river
In the rainy seasons the furious Neva
Flooded the village lands with minimum damages
Canals on both sides carried the waters
Catered the needs of cultivable lands
Childhood memories still lingers in the mind
In the seasons after the rains
Fun and pleasure were our bathing times
Young and old flocked to the river
To take a bath in crystal clear waters
Alas! The nemesis started from early eighties
Effluents from the nearby sugar factory
Entered the river erasing its entity
Perennial is the flow of waste
That seeped into the deep soils
Spoiling the springs that catered the wells
Leaving the waters unfit for use
With pungent smell piercing the nostrils
Not lagging behind politicians of local fame
Grabbed the lands of catchment areas
Allowed colonies for their cronies
With water sources going dry
Only a narrow stream left in between
To flow the wastes of factories nearby
A deep sigh with heavy heart
Only tribute paid for the dead river!
Somanathan Iyer

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Life is like a river, it flows on,
Halting at precious moments, it goes on.
Meandering from beginning to end,
And here and there you see a bend.
Passing lush meadows and bountiful woods,
Which you may not notice though you should.
The beautiful trees swayed by the wind,
The azure sky above the rivers brink,
The golden sunlight making the waters gleam,
The countryside crisscrossed by numerous streams.
Yet sometimes the river gets stormy and wild,
And rocks you like a cradle rocks a child.
Now and then it changes coarse,
And takes you along with its currents force.
At times when the river is tidal and rough,
Going against the flow may be tough.
So flow with the river, wherever it takes you.
Overcome the storms, though there are few.
And when the river is smooth and mild,
Enjoy the experience till the end of the ride.
Bhavika Sicka

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The Well

A flowing river fed the well
Before you left and said “farewell”
But now you’re gone and it is dry
I often ask and wonder why

Now just a hole, an empty shell
A flowing river fed the well
The river of love that had no end
Liquid of life that we would spend

I loved you so there was no doubt
The well dried up and left this drought
A flowing river fed the well
It kept me here, within your spell

The river’s gone, the well dried up
You left me with an empty cup
There’s no one left that I can tell
A flowing river fed the well

Author notes:

A Quatern is a sixteen line French form composed of four quatrains.
It has a refrain that is in a different place in each quatrain.
The first line of stanza one is the second line of stanza two, third line of stanza three, and fourth line of stanza four. A quatern has eight syllables per line.
It does not have to be iambic or follow a set rhyme
S1 refrain is L1
S2 refrain is L2
S3 refrain is L3
S4 refrain is L4
Amera Andersen

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Poems On / About RIVER