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Posts Tagged ‘waves’

british flag

When Britain first, at Heaven’s command,
Arose from out the azure main;
This was the charter of the land,
And guardian angels sung this strain:
“Rule, Britannia, rule the waves;
Britons never will be slaves.”

The nations, not so blest as thee,
Must, in their turns, to tyrants fall:
While thou shalt flourish great and free,
The dread and envy of them all.
“Rule, Britannia, rule the waves;
Britons never will be slaves.”

Still more majestic shalt thou rise,
More dreadful, from each foreign stroke:
As the loud blast that tears the skies,
Serves but to root thy native oak.
“Rule, Britannia, rule the waves;
Britons never will be slaves.”

Thee haughty tyrants ne’er shall tame:
All their attempts to bend thee down,
Will but arouse thy generous flame;
But work their woe, and thy renown.
“Rule, Britannia, rule the waves;
Britons never will be slaves.”

To thee belongs the rural reign;
Thy cities shall with commerce shine:
All thine shall be the subject main,
And every shore it circles thine.
“Rule, Britannia, rule the waves;
Britons never will be slaves.”

The Muses, still with freedom found,
Shall to thy happy coast repair:
Blest isle! with matchless beauty crown’d,
And manly hearts to guard the fair.
“Rule, Britannia, rule the waves;
Britons never will be slaves.” 

 

 

 

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The waves curl;
Then they hit the beach
And – thunder!

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The picture is mine, of Sand Beach in Acadia National Park in Maine.

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* The haiku I write are lines of 3-5-3 syllables instead of 5-7-5.

See Haiku article here for explanation, if needed: https://thebardonthehill.wordpress.com/2011/08/08/haiku/

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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2018.

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(In the Civil War battle at Fredericksburg, Virginia, Burnside sent Union troops again and again across an open field toward the Southerners behind a wall on the Sunken Road and perched above on Marye’s Height. The Union was slaughtered before retreating, 13,300 casualties vs.4500 for the South.)

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The sunken road.  The Union attacked across open level ground from the right,
suffered many losses, and were repelled each time.  Marye’s Height (pictured below) is a steep hill to the left.  Confederate cannons fired down on the Union from there.

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Did you, with ease, your blue waves send
To beat the shore that would not bend,
To paint their blood upon the wall
They battered ‘gainst, that could not fall?

Did you e’er feel the bullet’s pain
So they would not roll forth again
To-ward the South perched on the height,
No chance to win within blue’s sight?

Did they give their brief lives in vain
So you’d not have to bear the pain
Of facing Lincoln’s pressure to
Press on and fight, or bid adieu?

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The pictures are mine, taken a couple of years ago to a trip to Virginia where I
saw 5 major Civil War battlefields including Fredericksburg.

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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2017.

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Deep in the wave is a coral grove,
Where the purple mullet, and gold-fish rove,
Where the sea-flower spreads its leaves of blue,
That never are wet with falling dew,
But in bright and changeful beauty shine,
Far down in the green and glassy brine.
The floor is of sand, like the mountain drift,
And the pearl shells spangle the flinty snow;
From coral rocks the sea plants lift
Their boughs, where the tides and billows flow;
The water is calm and still below,
For the winds and waves are absent there,
And the sands are bright as the stars that glow
In the motionless fields of upper air:
There with its waving blade of green,
The sea-flag streams through the silent water,
And the crimson leaf of the dulse is seen
To blush, like a banner bathed in slaughter:
There with a light and easy motion,
The fan-coral sweeps through the clear deep sea;
And the yellow and scarlet tufts of ocean,
Are bending like corn on the upland lea:
And life, in rare and beautiful forms,
Is sporting amid those bowers of stone,
And is safe, when the wrathful spirit of storms,
Has made the top of the wave his own:
And when the ship from his fury flies,
Where the myriad voices of ocean roar,
When the wind-god frowns in the murky skies,
And demons are waiting the wreck on shore;
Then far below in the peaceful sea,
The purple mullet, and gold-fish rove,
Where the waters murmur tranquilly,
Through the bending twigs of the coral grove.

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nFtL7eE (1)

 

 

Politicians

Washington –
Blooming idiots
Not flowers.

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nC5D7OQ 

 

Rock Dance 

Often, waves
Challenge the surfers.
Sometimes, rocks.

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nFblWy2 

 

Eternal Comfort

Beloved toy
E’er near to be hugged,
Still faithful.

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Politicians – photo by Nicolas Raymond at http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/nFtL7eE/Washington+DC+Cherry+Blossomshttp://www.rgbstock.com/photo/nFtL7eE/Washington+DC+Cherry+Blossoms

Rock – photo by Nicolas Raymond at http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/nC5D7OQ/Boulders+Beach+-+HDR

Eternal – photo by Nicolas Raymond at http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/nFblWy2/Tombstone+Teddy+Bear

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* The haiku I write are lines of 3-5-3 syllables instead of 5-7-5.

See Haiku article here for explanation, if needed: https://thebardonthehill.wordpress.com/2011/08/08/haiku/

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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2016.

 

 

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………
Large To Small To Large

The waves to the shore keep on crashing,
Their watery fists always smashing
What’s large into sand,
Small grains that are grand.
Collected, they’re beaches quite dashing.

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photo by Kevin Tuck at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/n2HFfn2/Sparkling+shoreline

 

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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2015.

 

 

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Hair On End

The bell rang.
Frightened baby bird,
“Help!  Save me!”

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Shimmers

Rock layers,
Water rippling o’er;
Light, shadows.

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Surf And Sand

Churning foam
Rolling to the beach,
Churning home.

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Hair – photo by Jill Smith at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/mrsMBaC/Baby+Robins

Shimmers – photo by Kevin Tuck at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/nK42K0Q/Clear+cold+river

Surf – photo by Miguel Saavedra at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/2dpe4Ix/Beach+layers+2

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* The haiku I write are lines of 3-5-3 syllables instead of 5-7-5.

See Haiku article here for explanation, if needed: https://thebardonthehill.wordpress.com/2011/08/08/haiku/

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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2014.

 

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Windsurfers

When the wind and the waves combine as one
With man and sailboard ‘neath the sun,
The man with the skill of a flying ace
Rides waves and wind with equal grace.
He sails on the sea and up in the wind;
With board and sail a perfect blend.
Like the dolphins leap in athletic arc,
He leaves the surface, flies, a lark,
He twists and he lands, then moves in wind’s grip
With speed that matches clipper ships.
Thus, nature and man join playfully
When butterflies are on the sea.

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photo by Jeffrey Banke at
http://www.dreamstime.com/windsurfer-imagefree2962909

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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2012.

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