I sit in the pool trying to go deeper. I wade farther and farther even though the water is so cold. I count to three and dip under. My wading turns to swimming. I open my eyes and see the sun reflecting on the water.
Wading in water? That was a part of a song that I heard when I was younger. Waaade in the water. Waaaaade in the water, children. It looks too much like the word wave for my liking.
The water lapped up against the pier in the distance but here and now was quiet and tranquil. The water was cool, but not uncomfortably so, and the sand felt soft and forgiving under my toes. The lighting was perfect. That golden light that happens just before dusk came filtering down through everything, making the water glow and shadows lenghthen around me.
i walked down a river and saw a bird a bird with long legs that glanced at a frog. Te frog sang like a gerbil with a bit between the teeth and was shunned from the river community. The bird with long legs searched out the gerbil singing frog and became his friend.
the Revolution was a health inspectors paradise and was served five day notices on a regular basis. Outraged enthusiastic customers flocked in in defiance after each episode, what kind of people were they, not to be put off? Roaches swarmed in the cellars and water pooled in the floor in the passageways and staff and customers waded through and peeled potatoes sat in great vats in dangerous proximity to the gentlemen’s toilet- the old out in the back yard one surviving from Victorian days- ladies had the luxurious indoor facility- throughout all the lighting was low and orange and hid a multitude of sins. Cleaning involved taking a heavy industrial greasy grey mop for a languid walk around the premises every now and then. The place had personality and was the grime a vital component of that elusive quality.? Bet ya our immune systems are the stronger from all we were informally inoculated against during our sojourns in its hallowed walls. A quite respectable restaurant replaced it and has thrived for twenty years with never a squeak from the authorities , but it was never the official backdrop for anyone’s misspent youth , it didn’t define an era, it was never a magnet for a certain type of person, the type we recognise anywhere and truly meet, eye to shining eye
I went to the creek and wanted to go to the other side. But do I risk the tides? It looks so inviiting…..just wade slowly my mind kept telling me. Just wade…
wade in the water children
but i’m not a child anymore
my dreams are gone
shattered in a thousand pieces
when will i see the sun again
the green ocean lapping on the sides
of the milky shore with a laughing sunset
happily all day long
with you
wading in the water
My dad was teaching me to fly fish. We were standing knee-deep in the swirling stream, life twisting and flowing around me. I was just another rock impeding the flow, a stiff barricade best left unchallenged.
I pulled my arm back, felt the light weight of the rod bow to my movements. In quick motions, I cast the hook. It landed in my father’s cheek. He didn’t teach me to fly fish after that.
I would one day love to wade in the clear, sky blue waters off the coast of St. Martin. I love boat and nautical things and this journey would complete my collection and theme.
She waded into the ocean like a child taking his first steps into his mother’s arms. Nothing made more sense to her at that moment than the transparency which grew in front of her. Shattering the waves with her skinny wrists, she felt there was no reason to turn back to the menacing storm of deception that her lifestyle presented.
in the water. the creek. with the fish. watch the nature all around, the water wash by in currents and the breeze glide along with it. feel the glory of being outside. wading. in the water. the creek.
i waded through oceans of water for what seemed hour and hours, my arms started to ache, The cold began to creep up my spine and i felt a stinging numbness overcome my every muscle. My legs began to give and before i knew it my eyes became heavy, my mind drifted….drifted…and so was i.
you wade into the deep blue sea to feel the cool water and the sense of helplessness overcome you, to feel the weight of life taken away. To possibly feel the trouble of life pass away.
wade is a word im not sure I understand, as I’m not an english speaking person. It suck because I feel like I’m passing in front of a nice word, and Id like to go search for it on wikipedia or google right about now. but yeah, I guess it kinda sounds like whale, or fade, but only beacause they have letters in common.
i wade in the mire of my job and life. I wade in the greasiness, sliminess of unhappyness and unfillfillment. I wade. and I wait. I wait to get out, and to have someone help me. I try to help my ownself, but it is so hard. I am stuck in this boloto and there no zatzepka.
Wade . . . . .what the hell does that mean? Never heard – or read it – before! Kind of hard to write about a word you don’t know, but hey look at me I am doing it! hahaha
enjoy the water. move slowly, there is no hurry. put your arms out and let them skim the surface of the water. slowly feel the floor. stay awhile and let the water flow through you.
The water glided across the tops of her feet, reaching her ankles. Right foot, left foot. Her knees. Right foot, left foot. Her waist. Right foot, left foot. Her chest. Right foot, left foot. Soon it reached her head, entering her nose and mouth, suffocating her; and yet, she never stopped wading.
I waded through the river, knee deep in water, waiting for the cry of the seagulls to help me. I didn’t know where I was.. or who I was, all I knew was that I had to get out of here.. out of this river.
I think about life after death because i don’t really know what will become of my soul. I don’t like apple pie because it looks weird when you squint. I get worried if you stare at me
I wade into the creek. It’s muddy and shallow. My feet sink into the ground and I am stuck. Crayfish dance around my ankles. The creek is cold and so am I. I wade out of the creek and go home.
To wade in the ocean
To wade on the folds of my grandmother’s skirt
To wade in the waves of love
Or depsair
Or envy or passion
To wade in life
Is to live as life
She waded through the stream, a look of terror plastered to her face. Suddenly, she looked up, and screamed. She tore at her leg and seemed to be fighting with some animal. Slowly, she began sinking down to the bottom of the stream, her voice completely bubbles under water.
I wade into the deep mucky water and wonder where the drop off is. That’s why it’d dangerous, this place: because the tides and the water levels are always changing, and it’s impossible to know where the drop off is at any time. There are oldies who know, just from being here long enough, but that’s not something everyone can do. I’m not sure it’s something I’ll ever do. I’m not the sort to develop that sort of intuition.
I wade into Your glory slowly every time, instead of diving in like I should. Every time I test the waters, I think about backing out. I am so thankful that every time I come into Your presence, You let me know You are God. And so I can continue to wade in all Your majesty and grace.
Die Wade ist zu dick. Die muss abnehmen. Sie darf nicht dicker sein als der Oberschenkel dividiert durch 3/4. Naja oder so ähnlich. Dicke Waden sind einfach nicht schick. Damit passt du in keine Hose und erst recht in keinen Stiefel. Wie das aussieht! Da glotzen dich doch die Leute im Schwimmbad weg!
“waaaade, in the waaater…” i warble out the first few notes. i’m nervous, and it shows in my voice. i make it through the rest of my solo, my voice growing stronger with each passing second. at the end, i make my way back to my spot on the risers. i was good, and i know it. much better than the rest of the choir members. and so it begins. my cockiness blossoms, but it’s beneath the surface. i’ll never let anyone know just how big my head is.
I waded out into the water, dragging my legs. I stretched out my arms, then lowered myself into the water, my chin just brushing the surface. I kicked my feet and began to swim.
across the lake i began to wade
starting point began to fade
tadpoles lurked in the shade
mossy waters green and jade
vines tangled up in braids
fishermen smoke gamble and trade.
I already waded in a pool of darts, but I did not do very well! It was like being eaten by sharks as i could not beat my husband, and I would have been much better off being a baby trying to swim or wade across the Atlantic Ocean!
She waded into the water, the cool blue lapping at her knees. She looked for the bodies, knowing they had been left here. Suddenly, her leg bumped a hard object. She looked down to gaze into the dead eyes of a 72-year-old man.
AS THE MAN WALKED IN TO THE WATER IT he stepped on a sea shell. The water moved rapidly and he waded through the heavy muck. On the shore a teenage girl played with a frisbee and her dog chased after it.
i am wading through a swamp full of dark secrets where i don’t know whats going on and the wading is just a form of stumbling upon different stuff like people I’d like to get to know better so that we can wade together into some interesting matters of common mindsets.
I sit in the pool trying to go deeper. I wade farther and farther even though the water is so cold. I count to three and dip under. My wading turns to swimming. I open my eyes and see the sun reflecting on the water.
Wading in water? That was a part of a song that I heard when I was younger. Waaade in the water. Waaaaade in the water, children. It looks too much like the word wave for my liking.
dewayne basketball
Wading in a river by a tree. People jumping off a rope into the water. It’s very hot outside. The air is probably broken.
The water lapped up against the pier in the distance but here and now was quiet and tranquil. The water was cool, but not uncomfortably so, and the sand felt soft and forgiving under my toes. The lighting was perfect. That golden light that happens just before dusk came filtering down through everything, making the water glow and shadows lenghthen around me.
I can only think of Uncle Wade. In Dorothy Allison’s, Bastard Out of Carolina; Uncle Wade cheats on Aunt Ruth, complicating their family further.
i walked down a river and saw a bird a bird with long legs that glanced at a frog. Te frog sang like a gerbil with a bit between the teeth and was shunned from the river community. The bird with long legs searched out the gerbil singing frog and became his friend.
the Revolution was a health inspectors paradise and was served five day notices on a regular basis. Outraged enthusiastic customers flocked in in defiance after each episode, what kind of people were they, not to be put off? Roaches swarmed in the cellars and water pooled in the floor in the passageways and staff and customers waded through and peeled potatoes sat in great vats in dangerous proximity to the gentlemen’s toilet- the old out in the back yard one surviving from Victorian days- ladies had the luxurious indoor facility- throughout all the lighting was low and orange and hid a multitude of sins. Cleaning involved taking a heavy industrial greasy grey mop for a languid walk around the premises every now and then. The place had personality and was the grime a vital component of that elusive quality.? Bet ya our immune systems are the stronger from all we were informally inoculated against during our sojourns in its hallowed walls. A quite respectable restaurant replaced it and has thrived for twenty years with never a squeak from the authorities , but it was never the official backdrop for anyone’s misspent youth , it didn’t define an era, it was never a magnet for a certain type of person, the type we recognise anywhere and truly meet, eye to shining eye
I went to the creek and wanted to go to the other side. But do I risk the tides? It looks so inviiting…..just wade slowly my mind kept telling me. Just wade…
wade in the water children
but i’m not a child anymore
my dreams are gone
shattered in a thousand pieces
when will i see the sun again
the green ocean lapping on the sides
of the milky shore with a laughing sunset
happily all day long
with you
wading in the water
My dad was teaching me to fly fish. We were standing knee-deep in the swirling stream, life twisting and flowing around me. I was just another rock impeding the flow, a stiff barricade best left unchallenged.
I pulled my arm back, felt the light weight of the rod bow to my movements. In quick motions, I cast the hook. It landed in my father’s cheek. He didn’t teach me to fly fish after that.
I would one day love to wade in the clear, sky blue waters off the coast of St. Martin. I love boat and nautical things and this journey would complete my collection and theme.
She waded into the ocean like a child taking his first steps into his mother’s arms. Nothing made more sense to her at that moment than the transparency which grew in front of her. Shattering the waves with her skinny wrists, she felt there was no reason to turn back to the menacing storm of deception that her lifestyle presented.
in the water. the creek. with the fish. watch the nature all around, the water wash by in currents and the breeze glide along with it. feel the glory of being outside. wading. in the water. the creek.
i waded through oceans of water for what seemed hour and hours, my arms started to ache, The cold began to creep up my spine and i felt a stinging numbness overcome my every muscle. My legs began to give and before i knew it my eyes became heavy, my mind drifted….drifted…and so was i.
you wade into the deep blue sea to feel the cool water and the sense of helplessness overcome you, to feel the weight of life taken away. To possibly feel the trouble of life pass away.
wade is a word im not sure I understand, as I’m not an english speaking person. It suck because I feel like I’m passing in front of a nice word, and Id like to go search for it on wikipedia or google right about now. but yeah, I guess it kinda sounds like whale, or fade, but only beacause they have letters in common.
She never wanted this. Never thought she had to go. But to save him she had to. She began to wade toward the island before starting to swim.
i wade in the mire of my job and life. I wade in the greasiness, sliminess of unhappyness and unfillfillment. I wade. and I wait. I wait to get out, and to have someone help me. I try to help my ownself, but it is so hard. I am stuck in this boloto and there no zatzepka.
Wade. quite the uninspiring word. I guess I should get my creative juices going. W for When a for Amigos D for Death E for everything, everyone?
Wade . . . . .what the hell does that mean? Never heard – or read it – before! Kind of hard to write about a word you don’t know, but hey look at me I am doing it! hahaha
enjoy the water. move slowly, there is no hurry. put your arms out and let them skim the surface of the water. slowly feel the floor. stay awhile and let the water flow through you.
The water glided across the tops of her feet, reaching her ankles. Right foot, left foot. Her knees. Right foot, left foot. Her waist. Right foot, left foot. Her chest. Right foot, left foot. Soon it reached her head, entering her nose and mouth, suffocating her; and yet, she never stopped wading.
I waded through the river, knee deep in water, waiting for the cry of the seagulls to help me. I didn’t know where I was.. or who I was, all I knew was that I had to get out of here.. out of this river.
Slowly walking into a shallow pond, hidden amongst the trees, I wait for him…
I think about life after death because i don’t really know what will become of my soul. I don’t like apple pie because it looks weird when you squint. I get worried if you stare at me
I wade into the creek. It’s muddy and shallow. My feet sink into the ground and I am stuck. Crayfish dance around my ankles. The creek is cold and so am I. I wade out of the creek and go home.
To wade in the ocean
To wade on the folds of my grandmother’s skirt
To wade in the waves of love
Or depsair
Or envy or passion
To wade in life
Is to live as life
She waded through the stream, a look of terror plastered to her face. Suddenly, she looked up, and screamed. She tore at her leg and seemed to be fighting with some animal. Slowly, she began sinking down to the bottom of the stream, her voice completely bubbles under water.
I wade into the deep mucky water and wonder where the drop off is. That’s why it’d dangerous, this place: because the tides and the water levels are always changing, and it’s impossible to know where the drop off is at any time. There are oldies who know, just from being here long enough, but that’s not something everyone can do. I’m not sure it’s something I’ll ever do. I’m not the sort to develop that sort of intuition.
I wade into Your glory slowly every time, instead of diving in like I should. Every time I test the waters, I think about backing out. I am so thankful that every time I come into Your presence, You let me know You are God. And so I can continue to wade in all Your majesty and grace.
Die Wade ist zu dick. Die muss abnehmen. Sie darf nicht dicker sein als der Oberschenkel dividiert durch 3/4. Naja oder so ähnlich. Dicke Waden sind einfach nicht schick. Damit passt du in keine Hose und erst recht in keinen Stiefel. Wie das aussieht! Da glotzen dich doch die Leute im Schwimmbad weg!
“waaaade, in the waaater…” i warble out the first few notes. i’m nervous, and it shows in my voice. i make it through the rest of my solo, my voice growing stronger with each passing second. at the end, i make my way back to my spot on the risers. i was good, and i know it. much better than the rest of the choir members. and so it begins. my cockiness blossoms, but it’s beneath the surface. i’ll never let anyone know just how big my head is.
I waded out into the water, dragging my legs. I stretched out my arms, then lowered myself into the water, my chin just brushing the surface. I kicked my feet and began to swim.
across the lake i began to wade
starting point began to fade
tadpoles lurked in the shade
mossy waters green and jade
vines tangled up in braids
fishermen smoke gamble and trade.
I already waded in a pool of darts, but I did not do very well! It was like being eaten by sharks as i could not beat my husband, and I would have been much better off being a baby trying to swim or wade across the Atlantic Ocean!
The water was freezing, but we didn’t care, we just sat there, shivering and staring at the sky. The stars were beautiful tonight.
She waded into the water, the cool blue lapping at her knees. She looked for the bodies, knowing they had been left here. Suddenly, her leg bumped a hard object. She looked down to gaze into the dead eyes of a 72-year-old man.
AS THE MAN WALKED IN TO THE WATER IT he stepped on a sea shell. The water moved rapidly and he waded through the heavy muck. On the shore a teenage girl played with a frisbee and her dog chased after it.
i am wading through a swamp full of dark secrets where i don’t know whats going on and the wading is just a form of stumbling upon different stuff like people I’d like to get to know better so that we can wade together into some interesting matters of common mindsets.