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Poems On / About RIVER  8/27/2014 10:05:32 AM
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  313.     

Rivers of living Water'

Rivers of Living Water`

Yes, I know I have the rivers of the living waters
`Can swear it streams and flows and freely flutters
It bubbles and doubles the fountain of my tender breast
Undulating and refining my brains, my chest on the crest
Lo! When it should travel in the pomp of its wealth and feathers
My rivers dwindles, stutters and slowly it festers
At its spillage, it drizzles and faints at the lobby’s rest
My rivers, my vitals, my kismet and my best

Behold the land be dry and the grass alters its beauty
should men, animals and plants taste, in my bounty
Who can live and grow fertile and generously nourish'
But someday- this I know- the land shall live to flourish
And sprout the bounty it own`st to blossom and prosper
When men will drink full from the rivers of living water`
 
NEWTON RAY

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  314.     

Life is like a river

My life is like river,
A river of a dreamer,
Someday soon I will fly away from here,
Someday soon I will make it as a writer,
My life is like a running water,
Water of the deepest ocean,
A line between of you and I,
Someday soon you will come and find me,
My life is a river of never ending dream,
My life you someday will understand,
You'll see the side of an artist,
A side you someday may be proud of,
A running water is like a river of life that was once told,
A life without a soul is life without water,
Without Water is like without food,
My life will always be a free sprit of a river that flows into your dreams.
 
Jennifer Rondeau

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  315.     

RIPPLING CHILDHOOD MEMORIES

Rippling Childhood Memories
Melvin Banggollay


Sitting in solitude in the bank of a river
I behold waves to keep coming back
Gently kissing the shore long and forever
With their murmuring songs like flashback
While cool breeze rippled the serene water
With sweet memories just like a while back
When I used to play in this pristine river
Along with childhood friends on the block.

When I gaze the surface of the serene river
I saw smiles of swimming kids like ducks
Merrily playing as they build castle’s tower
along the river’s shore but waves took them back
with splashing moves from the naughty players
playing and throwing mud from the river bank
but at a distance I behold two young lovers
Building a castle of their own fortune and luck.


Who’s that, well that was me and girl of my life.
 
MELVIN BANGGOLLAY

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  316.     

Vistula

A cascade of ices, cold fury
gargling down the Beskids
waiting basket of Baltic,
great span of your lakes
infinite stretch of Mazury-
you, marshal land-giver-
to our lives along banks
into houses and history-
what do you make of us,
God of this river?

Those who would plumb
the crevice dry cracks
fetch in your mystery,
the deep green in you,
River whose currents still
shape us with influence,
run blood in our vein-sinew
wild into your wilderness,
What do you build in us
God of this river?

As we cross the ice packs
winter’s water hidden us
floods and droughts sung
to your rhythm- fit eyes
flicked at the universe,
town’s heart pumps a pulse
just a mere quiver, under
thick ice for so long, what
have you forbidden us.
God of this river?

For us the smart facts, snatch
a glimpse of you from high
bridges across in the rush
cars trams train and bus
fast metros under you
to nest in sky-scrapers
shrinking you down to
a summer’s small slither
our lives blunder through
your slow current’s residue
What thinking, wonder you
pagan God of this River?
 
John a'Beckett

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