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Poems On / About RIVER  9/1/2014 8:44:55 PM
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Best Poems About / On RIVER
 
 
 
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  333.     

The Hopkins River

Centuries before the black people to this Land came
An unknown Country that did not have a name
The river now known as the Hopkins through the scrublands did flow
And that is going back many centuries ago.

The dinosaurs came at the twilight of the day
For to slake their thirst at the quiet water-way
And though the dinosaurs from the World are forever gone
The old Hopkins river keeps babbling on.

Through the flat brown Countryside to Warrnambool to the sea
The Hopkins has flowed for century on century
Through places dry and stony and places remote
The river has inspired the artist and poet.

For to sketch and sing of it in decades gone by
The river that has never stopped flowing through Summer's warm and dry
And though the artist and poet now with the deceased lay
The Hopkins keeps babbling on night after day.

Through places dry and stony and places remote and brown
On down to the ocean near Warrnambool Town
And the Seasons may come and the Seasons may go
But the old Hopkins river forever will flow.
 
Francis Duggan

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  334.     

SERGIO FIORENTINO PLAYING A SCHUMANN

He shall patiently play
him a piano piece a
Sergio fiorentino
And he will
Mimic a Schumann piece
Because

Today he sees him
In full view
Bathing naked
On the river
He is a big man
Like himself
Now he comes
Back to the river
Where they once
Bathed as children
Naked and so
Blessedly innocent

There is malice
Now as he is
Big and muscled
And some black
Hairs decorated
His manhood
His armpits
His thighs
And his
Chests

He calls him
To join him
As they were
Once children

To have a river
To cleanse them
Both

“come, come”
we shall have
a bath in this
river of our
vibrant laughter”

he was inviting &


he was excited.

so
He took off his
Clothes and
Every covering
Of his body
His second
Thoughts and
Taking courage
He jumped
Into the river
Where he
Stood naked,

What he will say
He is prepared
To defend himself

It was him
Who made the
Invitation and
All he did was
Simply to obey.

He promises
There will be no
Regret whatsoever.
 
RIC S. BASTASA

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  335.     

The River Forever To The Ocean Flow

The river that flows from the hills far away
Through wetlands and dry lands by night and by day
As old as father time will journey forever more
Through the flat coastal lands en route to the sea shore.

It starts on it's journey as a trickling rill
In a pond by a rock at the base of the hill
That is far north of here even as the crow fly
The river flows on and refuses to die.

From a rill to a stream and into a river it grow
As rills and streams from other hills into it flow
It babbles and gurgles by hedgerow and tree
On it's forever journey on down to the sea.

A creek, brook, stream or river call it what you may
Near the ocean it grows to a huge water-way
And Humans like the Seasons to life come and go
But the river forever to the ocean flow
 
Francis Duggan

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  336.     

The Rill From The Foot Of The Mountain

The rill from the foot of the mountain that joins the river to the sea
It has babbled on downhill forever by hedgerows in the high
Country
It has witnessed the birth and death of millions of Seasons even before the first Human was born
In the upland wood where it flows through the birds sing at dawn of the morn.

The rill it is truly immortal something that will live forever more
Forever 'twill flow to the river that flows to the great ocean shore
To it there is not a time limit it is as old as father time
It has inspired the long dead poets to glorify it in their rhyme.

The rill from the foot of the mountain towards the river ripples along
And sometimes above it's quiet babble the dippers can be heard in song
The dark brown white breasted waterbirds of Human kind they do seem shy
By the water-way they were born and in the water-way they will die.

The rill from the foot of the mountain downhill to the big river flow
The ancestors of the upland farmers who lived by it centuries ago
In the old Village graveyard it flows by with the long departed they lay
As on for to join the big river it babbles on it's downhill way.
 
Francis Duggan

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Poems On / About RIVER