All poems found containing the word stream
ray anthony "Dancing the steady unbridled stream."

Joyous sky.
Vast beauty in Gray.
Enchant me with your bliss.
I too fear in kiss.

Twisted path then a jolt.
A skip, then a quick flight.
Within a senseless world.
Hold on, prevision for flight.

Bright white, twisted wash.
Dancing the steady unbridled stream.
Pushed along by the fullness of indulgence ~

Beauty, if only a moment
Within, another moment.
To conceive thee by deceiving me.

Charles Lutwidge Dodgson "Trailing from a crimson stream."

Bride to Be:
Oh how could he do this to me?
I trusted him undoubtedly!
Now I lie upon the grass
Hoping one day a man will pass,
And steal my heart from my chest.
So I can escape this god awful mess


Fiance:
My heart is trapped inside,
A woman of a common kind.
Continually forced to pay the fee,
Of dealing with those bound to flee.
I swear I could give her all she needs,
the complete effect of fantasy.
But I would be remiss.
In not mentioning her recent fear to kiss.  

Bride to Be:
I am a wallowing bride to be
Wallowing in misery
A month ago surrounded in bliss
Until he had to take that risk
All because he heard a scream,
Trailing from a crimson stream.

Fiance:
My face is cut and torn to shreds,
And now my love won't be wed.
I only did what I thought was best.
Yet I was surely led to loneliness.
I heard a scream from down the street,
And immediately took to my feet.
Saw the face of a woman scorned,
And a man who saw no reason in leaving me alone.

David Nelson "like a mountain stream"

Prolificus II

another day has come and gone
without a thought lingering
while the clouds of meloncholy
strum the magic harp
and the jester dances
with the bells on his toes
his words still ran freely
like a mountain stream
and his knowledge of
nothingness
flowed
endlessly
continuously
unwillingly

his logic still unlogical
rows after rows
not a rhyme or a prose
without adjacent adjectives
or proverbial adverbs
though sometimes a breeze
whispered the name
from the lips of Louise
distance and disdain
crossed their faces
like wheelbarrow races
meandering
thoughtlessly
rigorously
unending

pour me another one
would you barkeep
I ain't going nowhere

Gomer LePoet....

Titter tatter all the chatter
Gillian "form at all so that, hopefully, as you stream through it you don't stop - thanks!)"

(this is a spoken word poem, the entirety of which is intended to be read with a single breath.  understanding that we cannot all do this, i have not broken it up into verses or any form at all so that, hopefully, as you stream through it you don't stop - thanks!)


but if you're listening...

just beyond the fog of dreaming in your presence
so connected to the gravity of rainy days in a bed
that i was in so frequently it almost belonged to me
january blew icicles into me punching holes where
all the warmth leaked out weeks ago you once told
me its the people you break that know you the best
somewhere you had kissed me long as if i belonged
spouting your black coffee monologues on street
corners never caring to remove a cigarette from
your mouth like a painting dirty with reality
been waiting all my life just to worry about now
can it just wait can it all go away the rain stains
dance out there like the asphalt has turned to
water breaking my heart to wake from dreams
of you refusing to rise from my place of waiting
straining to hear the echo remnant melody of a
song you never sang pretending  you are here to
make this hole feel a little smaller some authority to
my heart you hold you're out of reach beyond my
senses leaving your imprints like scars suffocating
in your silence the empty quiet periods of my life
you leave and without accepting

...i grieve

Marian "A little mountain stream"

~~~~~~English~~~~~~

Sunshine greets the pristine Dawn
With rays of dancing light
Misty paths of beauty...Everlasting beauty
Tiny violas kissed in dew
Red tulips drenched in fresh rain
And trees are greener still
Showing off with pride their shining leaves
Dark hunter moss soaked by the waters of the creek
Feels so soft and nice
A little mountain stream
Happily sings his morning song
As he flows along forever
Little birds warble sweetly to each other
And fill the air with beauty
Daisies dance in their cloak of pearly dew
And waltz with happiness in the meadows and fields
It is God Who made this lovely world
And it is He that this world sings to
In reverence and honor
They worship Him

~~~~~Romanian~~~~~

Soarele saluta zori curat
Cu raze de lumină de dans
Brumos căi de frumusete...Frumuseţea veşnică
Mici viole sărutat în rouă
Lalele rosii ud în ploaie proaspăt
Şi copacii sunt mai ecologice încă
Manifestare off cu mândrie lor frunze stralucitoare
Vânător de întuneric muşchi ud de apele pârâului
Se simte atât de moale şi frumos
Un râu de munte mic
Fericit cântă cântecul său de dimineaţă
Ca el curge de-a lungul pentru totdeauna
Păsărele warble dulce pentru fiecare alte
Şi umple aerul cu frumusetea
Margarete dans în mantie lor de mărgăritar roua
Şi vals cu fericirea în pajişti şi câmpuri
Este Dumnezeu care a făcut această lume minunată
Şi este că această lume cântă la
Din respect si onoare
Se închine

~Marian~

John Edward Smallshaw "and the knights ride slowly with the stream"

It's just another night when the lights are bright
and the knights ride slowly with the stream
with the steam rising ragged in the cold evening air
and I swear they were laughing at me
being there.

But I was there and I did see
the history of old
strutting boldly down my street
going off to meet
that appointment to keep
back in 1642
with Cromwell and his madcap crew.

Where,
when the Crown lay heavy on the head
and the King had fled
an empty bed
a viper's nest
and no rest for the wicked or the Royal.
Those loyal did their best
but his head came off quite cleanly
obscenely
some might say
other's remarked,
'he'd has his day'

And as another night fades into obscurity
trapped between youth and maturity
no longer able to see the words that were penned
I look on
and long for
the day to end.

Atul Kaushal "he has gathered herself in this medical stream,"

Now she has gathered herself in this medical stream,
Which was chosen by her out of keenly interested steam.

I used to prepare some biology notes for her in the beginning,
But now I seldom conduce her, yes she has gathered herself.

And baby do tell me if you want my help any day.
My HP Poem #258
©Atul Kaushal
Lane Richard "stream down her cheek"

Sadness seeps slowly
from her eyes
Tears of reality
stream down her cheek
Held back
so many times
I wish she were here
I wish I could dry her tears
Bathe her in kindness
Until her smile appears
Only she can make sadness
seem so beautiful

Amber W "I will creep in a single stream of honey"

And I will kiss your shoulders,
When they are bare and
Wanting for a kiss.  
I will twine myself deep into your hair
And pull,
Until the back of your neck prickles
With delight.

I will creep in a single stream of honey
When you wrap in your shades and shutters
And pour golden, sticky sweet
Directly into your heart.

I will get lost amongst some cloud or mountain
(You cannot blame me, for as I do
you do often, too.)
And just when you have forgotten
How I warm those certain spots you knew not existed
As I creep through the blinds as you bathe,
Illuminating where you are broken, or soft,
I show myself,
In all bright and shining splendour.
You will forget me not.

I will let you indulge in me,
Take me in until you flake and rip
In chunks of bitter rust.
I will delight in how I eat away
At what once was white and pure.

Come night, I will leave to those
With sharper tongues and bigger hooks,
And you will be cold.

You will claw at the walls on which I once shone,
And with bleeding fingers
Rest amongs the grasshoppers and watch,
Waiting for my reflection in the new moon.

Yousef Ahmad "Back beyond the pines lay a stream."

Back beyond the pines lay a stream.
Cold blue water swirling and tumbling all over itself
where small fish darted about
scrounging for particles of food to sustain their life aquatic,
beavers, up a little ways on the hydro-vein, had built a dam,
he knew because he found it once,
watched furry little heads sink beneath the surface
to escape this furless beast that had invaded their territory.
There was also a small canoe,
tethered to a tree on his side of the bank.
He never knew from where it came or when it had gotten there.
It simply seemed to have showed up one day and squatted,
bobbing up and down gently on windy days,
looking very old and crusted over from the first time he had seen it.
It having spent its entire life just to end up in small stream
that led nowhere in little patch of forest separating two different subdivisions,
where hundreds of people who would never meet
lived in such closeness
behind the walls of their respective forts.

 
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