There I stand….as I see three children wade into the shallow waters…I’m getting paid. Another joins… oh no! he tripped!!! I wade across, pick him up..he’s ok. Afraid what emotions I’ll feel when the child will actually be mine….
They always told me that was the place where Shiloh drowned. I didn’t believe them, especially since I saw her in my room the next day. She says the water is shallow there. She says I should wade across. And if I do, I’ll meet her on the other side.
I like to wade in the ocean, just up to my ankles. The water feels soothing as the waves come in and out. I hold my sandals and just walk along the beach with my feet wet.
thick deep in water, stuck in place. frozen in a world you don’t understand at all. too run is impossible, and you sink as you walk. so you wade again. you travel through something you don’t really understand, you walk on water,
you’re free again.
wade holbrook is a very strange creature. he always says very weird things to me and is very nosey about my assignment notebook. apart from that the word wade is to like wade in a pool or ocean. as in not swimming just standing there. i dont really care to wade i like swimming
wading through the ocean, I fought against the waves that pressed against me, crashing into my body and throwing a salty taste into my mouth. I could see the horizon glimmering and knew the end was near.
when are we to land….just moving so slowly, why not faster? When the waters rise we will know the reason-perhaps…if we can just wade through this last memory of meaning.
Wading through the water towards the cool blue
its refreshing
and i feel renewed
how can i bathe in something so large
with one foul crash of a wave
i could be gone
lost forever
but would i really care
would i fight through the currents to stay there?
or just continue to wade,
and fade away.
Wading through then sluggish depths of sleep, feeling the dark heavy fluid tugging at leags, hands, rising in tendrils to reclaim him as piercing splinters of cold sunlight fell into his eyes
Wading through the reeds, she smiles. The birds, ibis’ and ducks and countless other types she can hardly name swim around, making merry noises as they go. She disturbs them a little, and one quacks loudly, taking offence and flying out of her way as she makes her way across the river. The tide is strong, but not too strong, and although it hurts, the pain tearing at her legs and threatening to tug them out from underneath her, she resists, and makes it across to the other side safely. The birds, having cheered her on, depart as a shadow crosses the sun and shade falls across the blue water.
I had to wade through the water one day. A lot of rain had fallen, and we thought that it was a flood. water every way However I had manage to wade out in time, before I got washed away.
He had to wade in to reach her. The waves were crashing down, and he lost his footing. Slipping, sliding. He felt her let go of his hand. Wait, he thought, but it was a scream that came out. Wait! She looked at hin longingly before going under.
If I could wade through all the broken sentiment — all the words unsaid
I’d be no better than where I stand now.
For where I stand is where you left me
No matter what, why or how.
It’s easy to get lost in music. Once you choose you wade in its deep waters, that is it. The current takes you away and you sink deeper and deeper beneath the waves. And you don’t try to come back up.
wade or wading is when a person object or being lingers about a body or pool of water. For me wading implies a kind of inactivity whereby ducks spend their time swimming in the water.
When I’m in the lake, I like to wade in the water. It simply takes me away from all of my problems; I seem to be a different person. Nature surrounds me, and it all seems a bit surreal. I like to call it paradise, yet I never seem to get bored with it. Paradise can get boring, you know? Let’s wade in the water to rid ourselves of the issues that surround us.
Wade was a lovely man. He was handsome. A marvellous man, always telling jokes, teasing, pulling your leg, so soft but he was excellent at touch football, rugby. He loved being by the sea. He used to go in up to his waist then splash about with his friends for ages.
I wade through the ocean that is my life. And at times, I find myself in the deep end, struggling to swim out of fear of drowning.. and just then I feel hand pulling me back into the safety of the shallowness, allowing me to wade again.
in the water, wade in the water darling wade in the water, god’s gonna trouble the water. Being at the coast, at Holkham, the tide rushing in over the endless flats, suddenly you are thigh deep, holding the kids on your shoulders, racing the incoming flood….
She waded through the water, softly letting the waves cascade over her slender arms, down her back as she stepped into the deep. She was used to this sort of thing. The still of the night and the cold of the water made her wade deeper into the distance. She wanted nothing now. Just the crashing waves over her head, the silence of her heavy heart…
wade is a name that I think is going to start coming back, a long with all the old fashions. I feel like wade can be popular yet smart at the same time. Which lately isnt a very normal thing to stumble upon. I think I could name my kid wade, Wade Ulinski.. its interesting. I feel like if you named your kid wade he would just automatically have a certain depth about him
Wade was an awful man. He was mean, grouchy, and perfectly unlikable. His big beard, grimy shoes, and bald head made him even more repulsive than his personality did. He was horrible.
i dont need wade to remember about my love. Wade is needed for those who are away frm my heart. I want to wade with you along roadside my love. It will be like dream coming true.
As i wade into the water, the hem of my white linen dress starts to get wet. As i venture further, i become more soaked and weighed down. I feel my eyes blur and sleep encompasses my mind. Still i push forward into the ocean for my eternal rest…
i didnt in fact tell the tale that included the infinite doctors who wade in pools of lapped up pooding. I told the old doctor that to find me in the well would surely tell the others about my disorder. Sushi? I think not! tell this story backwards for maixium semen
Wading through the sea, the sea of my heart. Thick murky water which makes it almost impossible to envisage the arteries and the veins underneath, pumping away, keeping me alive. Wading through this disgusting mess that only I have created. I keep going, keep venturing on, trying to look further out, into the future maybe, but I see nothing. There is no time to waste, I must keep on. I must keep wading further into my soul until I cannot return. The soul is the comfiest place on earth.
John Wade was a photographer in Sunny Hills, California. He had just begun to realize how mundane and repetitive his life was. He was taking pictures of the same people and places. He knew photography was incomplete. One can’t capture memories in a simple strip of film. This task is too small for such complexities.
John Wade was a photographer living in Sunny Hills, California. He had just realized how mundane and repetitive his life was. Taking pictures, all of the same people and places. He knew something was wrong. Photography was incomplete. You can’t catch memories in simple strips of film. They are too complex for such a small task.
There I stand….as I see three children wade into the shallow waters…I’m getting paid. Another joins… oh no! he tripped!!! I wade across, pick him up..he’s ok. Afraid what emotions I’ll feel when the child will actually be mine….
up to your ankles in blue waters. ripples against your legs. the hairs on your toes are silver with bubbles and a cloud of dust rises round each step.
They always told me that was the place where Shiloh drowned. I didn’t believe them, especially since I saw her in my room the next day. She says the water is shallow there. She says I should wade across. And if I do, I’ll meet her on the other side.
He waded into the shallow pool, water flicking it’s cool tongue over his bare ankles. Cautious, cautious, he told himself. Better to be cautious.
I like to wade in the ocean, just up to my ankles. The water feels soothing as the waves come in and out. I hold my sandals and just walk along the beach with my feet wet.
thick deep in water, stuck in place. frozen in a world you don’t understand at all. too run is impossible, and you sink as you walk. so you wade again. you travel through something you don’t really understand, you walk on water,
you’re free again.
Today, I learned that wade means to plop around in the water.
That’s cool.
They said “Don’t think, just write.”
wade holbrook is a very strange creature. he always says very weird things to me and is very nosey about my assignment notebook. apart from that the word wade is to like wade in a pool or ocean. as in not swimming just standing there. i dont really care to wade i like swimming
wading through the ocean, I fought against the waves that pressed against me, crashing into my body and throwing a salty taste into my mouth. I could see the horizon glimmering and knew the end was near.
As his words wade in to her, he inhaled her – leaving her light and breathless. She waited a long time to hear these words. He had her hanging.
when are we to land….just moving so slowly, why not faster? When the waters rise we will know the reason-perhaps…if we can just wade through this last memory of meaning.
Wade in drivel as you wake; slather saliva about your face.
what are the depths what are the reasons for meditating on the levels rising, rising. We are but waders in the rising waters of our planet
Wading through the water towards the cool blue
its refreshing
and i feel renewed
how can i bathe in something so large
with one foul crash of a wave
i could be gone
lost forever
but would i really care
would i fight through the currents to stay there?
or just continue to wade,
and fade away.
Wading through then sluggish depths of sleep, feeling the dark heavy fluid tugging at leags, hands, rising in tendrils to reclaim him as piercing splinters of cold sunlight fell into his eyes
Wading through the reeds, she smiles. The birds, ibis’ and ducks and countless other types she can hardly name swim around, making merry noises as they go. She disturbs them a little, and one quacks loudly, taking offence and flying out of her way as she makes her way across the river. The tide is strong, but not too strong, and although it hurts, the pain tearing at her legs and threatening to tug them out from underneath her, she resists, and makes it across to the other side safely. The birds, having cheered her on, depart as a shadow crosses the sun and shade falls across the blue water.
От звонка до звонка.
Should I row or should I wade? It’s a difficult debate, but a necessary one if you want to cross the river.
I had to wade through the water one day. A lot of rain had fallen, and we thought that it was a flood. water every way However I had manage to wade out in time, before I got washed away.
He had to wade in to reach her. The waves were crashing down, and he lost his footing. Slipping, sliding. He felt her let go of his hand. Wait, he thought, but it was a scream that came out. Wait! She looked at hin longingly before going under.
If I could wade through all the broken sentiment — all the words unsaid
I’d be no better than where I stand now.
For where I stand is where you left me
No matter what, why or how.
Wade, wade through my heart… how can you? You are all there is inside.
It’s easy to get lost in music. Once you choose you wade in its deep waters, that is it. The current takes you away and you sink deeper and deeper beneath the waves. And you don’t try to come back up.
wade or wading is when a person object or being lingers about a body or pool of water. For me wading implies a kind of inactivity whereby ducks spend their time swimming in the water.
When I’m in the lake, I like to wade in the water. It simply takes me away from all of my problems; I seem to be a different person. Nature surrounds me, and it all seems a bit surreal. I like to call it paradise, yet I never seem to get bored with it. Paradise can get boring, you know? Let’s wade in the water to rid ourselves of the issues that surround us.
Wade was a lovely man. He was handsome. A marvellous man, always telling jokes, teasing, pulling your leg, so soft but he was excellent at touch football, rugby. He loved being by the sea. He used to go in up to his waist then splash about with his friends for ages.
I wade through the ocean that is my life. And at times, I find myself in the deep end, struggling to swim out of fear of drowning.. and just then I feel hand pulling me back into the safety of the shallowness, allowing me to wade again.
in the water, wade in the water darling wade in the water, god’s gonna trouble the water. Being at the coast, at Holkham, the tide rushing in over the endless flats, suddenly you are thigh deep, holding the kids on your shoulders, racing the incoming flood….
She waded through the water, softly letting the waves cascade over her slender arms, down her back as she stepped into the deep. She was used to this sort of thing. The still of the night and the cold of the water made her wade deeper into the distance. She wanted nothing now. Just the crashing waves over her head, the silence of her heavy heart…
wade is a name that I think is going to start coming back, a long with all the old fashions. I feel like wade can be popular yet smart at the same time. Which lately isnt a very normal thing to stumble upon. I think I could name my kid wade, Wade Ulinski.. its interesting. I feel like if you named your kid wade he would just automatically have a certain depth about him
Wade was an awful man. He was mean, grouchy, and perfectly unlikable. His big beard, grimy shoes, and bald head made him even more repulsive than his personality did. He was horrible.
Wade in the water, wade in the water children, wade in the water….
i dont need wade to remember about my love. Wade is needed for those who are away frm my heart. I want to wade with you along roadside my love. It will be like dream coming true.
As i wade into the water, the hem of my white linen dress starts to get wet. As i venture further, i become more soaked and weighed down. I feel my eyes blur and sleep encompasses my mind. Still i push forward into the ocean for my eternal rest…
i didnt in fact tell the tale that included the infinite doctors who wade in pools of lapped up pooding. I told the old doctor that to find me in the well would surely tell the others about my disorder. Sushi? I think not! tell this story backwards for maixium semen
Wading through the sea, the sea of my heart. Thick murky water which makes it almost impossible to envisage the arteries and the veins underneath, pumping away, keeping me alive. Wading through this disgusting mess that only I have created. I keep going, keep venturing on, trying to look further out, into the future maybe, but I see nothing. There is no time to waste, I must keep on. I must keep wading further into my soul until I cannot return. The soul is the comfiest place on earth.
Wade into the shallow depths
Of hatred, love, and pain.
Wade into the horrors
Of terrifying blame.
weird name
sounds exotic
wave is similiar…
is this a name?
sounds like weighed
same word madi got
interesting
waadddeee
dawe
edaw
yeah thtats
John Wade was a photographer in Sunny Hills, California. He had just begun to realize how mundane and repetitive his life was. He was taking pictures of the same people and places. He knew photography was incomplete. One can’t capture memories in a simple strip of film. This task is too small for such complexities.
John Wade was a photographer living in Sunny Hills, California. He had just realized how mundane and repetitive his life was. Taking pictures, all of the same people and places. He knew something was wrong. Photography was incomplete. You can’t catch memories in simple strips of film. They are too complex for such a small task.