Related quotes
Believe in women as in the weather in April.
Just One Of Those days
I'm so tired I dunno why..
I feel like I been working like a dog.
It's funny cus I haven't done
anything the whole day,
but sit lazily on this chair.
Its the weather, there's so much pressure
Its draggin me around
I really hate it.
September and April are the worst months of the year
transition months
I wish i could sleep those two months,
you know, writing a notice that goes like,
'wake me up when October comes' and
sleep all the way through September.
The same goes for April, but change the October to May.
The internet connection is awfully lazy today.
Maybe it is the weather again.
It's not worth downloading anything during the day
Funny how the weather is ruining everything.
I feel like doing something else
besides sitting on the computer
and writing this.
The weather is again to blame.
poem by Arsiema Berhane
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
April, Dear April
April, dear April, I beg you come soon –
And bring your sweet primroses too.
Let them join in with the daffodils’ play,
As skies offer sunshine anew.
April, dear April, my blessed spring child,
Ornate in your yellow and white,
Teasing the birds into trilling their songs
And dancing to music of flight.
April, dear April, come enter my dreams
And rid me from cold winter chills.
Banish the rain and those blustery winds
And warm up our countryside hills.
April, dear April, I know you can’t stay -
You have to move on ‘till next year.
And though I shall cherish the glory of summer,
You’ll always be my month most dear.
From: Succumbed to Thinking by Mark Raymond Slaughter, lulu.com
Copyright © Mark Raymond Slaughter 2009
All rights reserved
April April April April
April April April April
April April April April
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
March of the Wheelchairs
In Dakota land lunch is dinner
and dinner supper while lunch is lunch,
as traditions from farmlands go.
Now breakfast is at 6, lunch at 9
dinner at noon, lunch at 3
supper at 7, everything timed.
Day in and day out, better not be late.
Weather fickle, eating ain’t!
Farm traditions, genetics ‘grained.
No surprise, nursing meals,
wheelchairs marching, internal time,
largo moves, staccato fades.
Day in, day out…they’re not late
Wheelchairs marching, marching in
farm traditions, genetics ‘grained.
Weather fickle….eating ain’t!
Hope God keeps the schedule,
or has… a special dining hall.
As these Wheelchairs… arrive
Home Thoughts from Abroad
April in England–daffodils are growing
By every wayside, golden, tall and fair;
April–and all the little winds are blowing
The scents of springtime through the sunny air.
April in England–God, that we were there!
April in England–and her sons are lying
On these red fields, and dreaming of her shore;
April–we hear the thrushes' songs replying
Each unto each, above the cannons' roar;
April in England–shall we see it more?
April in England–there's the cuckoo calling
Down in her meadows where the cowslip gleams;
April–and little showers are softly falling,
Dimpling the surface of her babbling streams;
April in England–how the shrapnel screams!
April in England–blood and dust and smother,
Screaming of horses, men in agony.
April–full many of thy sons, O Mother,
Never again those dewy dawns shall see.
April in England–God, keep England free!
poem by Norah M. Holland
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Always Marry An April Girl
Praise the spells and bless the charms,
I found April in my arms.
April golden, April cloudy,
Gracious, cruel, tender, rowdy;
April soft in flowered languor,
April cold with sudden anger,
Ever changing, ever true --
I love April, I love you.
poem by Ogden Nash
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Young William And Young April
Young William and young April
Met in the park one day.
Young William said to April,
'Why did you come this way? '
Young April said to William,
'I thought I might see you.'
Young William, then to April,
'It's funny, what you do.'
Young April gave to William
A sweet, young childhood kiss.
Young William said to April,
'Don't bother me like this.'
Young April stood in silence,
Not knowing what to do.
Then young William turned away.
Young April, torn in two.
Young William said, 'Don't follow me.'
Away from her he fled.
April then, sat down and cried,
And wished that she was dead.
William never came again.
At least, for many years.
Fearful that young April still,
Might be there shedding tears.
William walked the park again.
It seemed just like before.
Wondering if he might see her.
Young April, there once more.
Young William never noticed.
The roses hid it well.
The place they found Young April.
The place she used to dwell.
poem by Greenwolfe 1962
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
APRIL and a FOOL
APRIL and a FOOL
April’s Fool day
Preceded her
April Fool’s day
by just one “fool”;
ME
That day before
I had a Life,
the next day
I had a wife;
SHE.
As April’s Fool
on April One
I said we do
and thus began
the fun.
Smiling impatiently
The Fools of April One,
‘SHE’ and ‘ME’
Became a
‘WE’ …
April Fool …
I’m single still!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Rhey W. Hedges, April 1,2007
poem by Rhey W. Hedges
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Fickle Fingers Of Fate
The fickle fingers of fate befalls us
everyday of our lives.
Sometimes it brings us happiness,
other times it brings us misery.
Sometimes it brings us love,
other times it breaks our heart.
The fickle fingers of fate befalls us
in everything we do.
Our actions are governed
by its fickle fingers
day and night
in what we do and say.
Its waywardness leads us
down roads we should not go
or to mountains too high to climb.
It can lead us to valleys
where tranquillity lay
and to lives peaceful.
The fickle fingers of fate
will lead us as it may,
making up decisions right or wrong.
We are its puppet on a string
as the fickle fingers of fate controls
our destiny come what may.
30 August 2009
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Fickle Heart
So many hearts have been broken
in loves cheating game.
Everyone says it is a fickle heart to blame.
The heart that cannot settle down,
always on the move.
Like a bee hoping from flower to flower,
the fickle heart does the same,
only from lover to lover.
To the fickle heart, it is all a game.
Oh, such a shame.
One day the fickle heart
will want to settle down,
and when that day comes along,
there won’t be anyone around.
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
In The Character Of A Ruined Farmer
Tune - "Go from my window, Love, do."
The sun he is sunk in the west,
All creatures retired to rest,
While here I sit, all sore beset,
With sorrow, grief, and woe:
And it's O, fickle Fortune, O!
The prosperous man is asleep,
Nor hears how the whirlwinds sweep;
But Misery and I must watch
The surly tempest blow:
And it's O, fickle Fortune, O!
There lies the dear partner of my breast;
Her cares for a moment at rest:
Must I see thee, my youthful pride,
Thus brought so very low!
And it's O, fickle Fortune, O!
There lie my sweet babies in her arms;
No anxious fear their little hearts alarms;
But for their sake my heart does ache,
With many a bitter throe:
And it's O, fickle Fortune, O!
I once was by Fortune carest:
I once could relieve the distrest:
Now life's poor support, hardly earn'd
My fate will scarce bestow:
And it's O, fickle Fortune, O!
No comfort, no comfort I have!
How welcome to me were the grave!
But then my wife and children dear-
O, wither would they go!
And it's O, fickle Fortune, O!
O whither, O whither shall I turn!
All friendless, forsaken, forlorn!
For, in this world, Rest or Peace
I never more shall know!
And it's O, fickle Fortune, O!
poem by Robert Burns
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
This Is Me:
One says I have the heart an angel,
One says I have the heart of the devil,
Well,
I'm neither an angel, nor the devil,
I'm me.
A women,
A women who will believe in anyone who can believe in themselves,
Even believe in those who don't believe in themselves,
A women who loves all things,
Weather dark of light,
For as I know the world cannot cooperate without the other,
I hate the things that make me mad,
Like racism, bullying, age discrimination, being a women and not have full rights to everything, and watching people suffer and go throw hell right in front of my eyes,
A women who is strong as steel,
But has compassion and is full of love,
One who likes to get her way, but can allow others for there's, too,
This is me.
A women,
A women who loves pissing people off,
But a women who wants to comfort the sad,
A women who loves to give her heart out,
To where it on her sleeve so people can see,
But don't when they take advantage,
A women who likes to cuss like a sailor,
Yet who loves to sweet words,
This is the women I am,
This is me,
And how I am...
poem by Sherry Painter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Good Weather
This good weather ruined me,
I resigned in such a weather
From my government job.
I got used to tobacco in such a weather,
I fell in love in such a weather;
I forgot to take home bread and salt
In such a weather;
My disease of writing poems
Recurred in such a weather;
This good weather ruined me.
poem by Orhan Veli Kanik
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Life Is Such A Fickle Thing
Life is such a fickle thing
one day your up the next day your down
when it seems you are on a merry-go-round
and the circles you spin in
are ever more decreasing.
Life is such a fickle thing
with love opening new doors
and closing older ones.
We just travel with it
never knowing what
tomorrow is going to bring,
as life is such a fickle thing.
15 March 2011
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Fortune is like women: loves youth and is fickle.
Fickle World
An addiction to a fiction,
A fickle world of photos.
To post a sole to all that prowl
A personal face logo.
A physical, synthetic thing
That world will try to con us in
That fickle world, for all that prowl
that fickle worls of photos.
poem by Peggy Pollock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
For Istanbul
April
It's impossible
To write poems
If you're in love
And not to
If the month is April
Desires & Memories
Desires are different
So are the memories.
How can anyone live, tell me,
In a town that has no sunshine?
Insects
No use thinking,
Just crave!
See, that's what the insects do.
Invitation
I'm waiting.
Come when the weather is such
That there can be no turning back.
poem by Orhan Veli Kanik
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
An April Love
Nay, be not June, nor yet December, dear,
But April always, as I find thee now:
A constant freshness unto me be thou,
And not the ripeness that must soon be sere.
Why should I be Time's dupe, and wish more near
The sobering harvest of thy vernal vow?
I am content, so still across thy brow
Returning smile chase transitory tear.
Then scatter thy April heart in sunny showers;
I crave nor Summer drouth nor Winter sleet:
As Spring be fickle, so thou be as sweet;
With half-kept promise tantalise the hours;
And let Love's frolic hands and woodland feet
Fill high the lap of Life with wilding flowers.
poem by Alfred Austin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
South Gippsland In April
The leaves on the deciduous trees are turning brown
Yet in the Parks and gardens of Wonthaggi Town
The mynas are singing their songs tell of rain
And the frogs they are calling in the roadside drain.
Though into mid April and the Winter quite near
The weather quite warm for the time of year
On the beach at Cape Paterson the sun lovers lay
It may rain tomorrow but the sun shines today.
Only six weeks left of Autumn the time ticking on
And quite Summery weather though Summer is long gone
The old coastal hills overlooking the sea shore
Have seldom looked this dry or this brown before.
South Gippsland in April a fresh coastal breeze
In the woodland is soughing in the sunlit trees
Utopia on Earth the South Gippslanders say
That from where they live Heaven is not far away.
The birds in the Parkland they whistle and sing
It is more like weather in Summer or late Spring
The sun shining brightly but those brown hills nearby
A few hours of rain now would surely enjoy.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A women
Women is
Mother...
Women is
sister...
Women is
Gran maa...
women is
Friend....
Women is
Family...
Women is
Nation...
Women is
World....
Women is
Power of univers...
Univers Also
Power of women...
Women is not only
Women...
A women is
Homeable gods...
A women is
Loveable goodes...
With goodness...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!