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Poems On / About RIVER  10/25/2014 6:54:36 AM
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Best Poems About / On RIVER
 
 
 
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  361.     

Life's River

Life is like a river.
It is faster at some parts
slower at other
but always putting
up a fight.
A fight to bring you down.
Some people allow the
river to take them,
giving up. If you give
up then you'll
have a harder time then ever,
but if you fight the
river, never going under the surface of it,
you will see everything at the
end, clearly for what it is.
Or maybe even in the middle of the
river. Either way,
life is like a river.
Always strong, yet gentle.
It will always test you.
 
Nichole Herrin

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  362.     

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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  363.     

Where The Rivers Meet

The lark upwards fly from the rushes to sing in the gray morning sky
And gray crow disliked by sheep farmers caws on a lone poplar nearby
And spring has brought all of her green beauty to Claraghatlea west of Millstreet
To the old rushy fields by the railway the quiet place where the rivers meet.

Where the Cails flows into the Finnow and into a bigger river grow
And journey through Dooneen and Drishane and into the Blackwater flow
Amongst the water reeds the moorhen on her nest is sitting quite safe in her shady retreat
And in the rank grass the pheasant is crowing in field by where the rivers meet.

In leafy groves and on the green hedgerows that border fields by Millstreet Town
The songbirds are whistling and singing at twilight as the sun goes down
And vixen for her cubs out hunting 'a young rabbit would be nice to eat'
And darkness it slowly envelopes the fields by where the rivers meet.

The spring she has come to Duhallow and everywhere looking so green
And snowdrops and primroses blooming on the verges along the bohreen
And cow to her new born calf lowing he totters on unsteady feet
Amongst the rank grass and the rushes in field by where the rivers meet.
 
Francis Duggan

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  364.     

Listen to the Flowing River

The fisherman used to cast his line into the running water
And take what the flowing river allowed him to receive
Now he’s watching as the pollutants slaughter
No longer can he wade out from the shore, a time to grieve.
He looks down on the river sadly mourning
Detests the modern world that lives within
The river’s surface shadows a simple warning
A positive transformation must begin.
We must close our eyes and listen to the flowing river
We must open up our hearts and take one more chance
To take a stand, don’t yield, don’t quiver
Make a choice not to live in this world as victims of circumstance.
No longer watch as acid rain continues to pour down – to sorrow
Should not let our expectations fill with fear
Everyone look out to new horizons on the morrow
The lamp of knowledge is coming here.
Let the rejoicing ring out in the heartland
And thank the Lord and pour blessings on his name, amen
May the future be true for our sons and daughters – delivered with a helping hand
Listen to the flowing river as the fish swim upstream once again.

'2007'
 
Robert Sheridan

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Poems On / About RIVER