When was the last time you spent a quiet moment just doing nothing - just sitting and looking at the sea, or watching the wind blowing the tree limbs, or waves rippling on a pond, a flickering candle or children playing in the park?
quote by Ralph Marston
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The timetable of four
The golden glows of sunlight hit me
The smell of freshly cut grass reached me
The sight of freedom exhilarated me
The sounds of birds intrigued me
The beauty around me radiated from everything
The long open stretches of grass
The shady woodlands going on and on
The unending number of livening creatures
The cawing raven in the tree branches
The worm busily digging in the soil
The fish swimming idly in the pond
The child playing happily in the park
It is summer now but soon it will change
Soon it will change
Soon it will change into Autumn
I’ll still be in my tree
The children are playing in the heaps of leaves
The leaves have all gone a golden colour
The ravens are searching for bugs in the leaves
The fish are swimming slower in their pond
It is Autumn now but it will soon change
Soon it will change
Soon it will change into Winter
I’ll still be in my tree
There are no children playing
There are no leaves on the trees
The ravens have all gone south
There are no fish in the pond
It is Winter now but it will soon change
It will soon change
It will soon change into spring
I’ll still be in my tree
The children are starting to come back
The ravens are backing cawing in the trees
There is new fish in the pond
There are new buds on the trees
It is Spring now but soon it will change
Soon it will change
Soon it will change into Summer
I’ll still be in my tree
Waiting
Watching
Writing
Thinking
The Flickering Flame of Life
As dusk was creeping in, one winter’s evening,
I lit a candle to add to the peaceful ambiance.
Sitting, with my coffee on the table by my side
the flickering flame soon had me entranced.
I began to compare my life to a new candle,
remembering that I used to be proud and tall.
Like a candle I just got on with my business
working and playing without fuss at all.
With the flickering flame I also had parity,
when new it burned small but bright,
but as it grew it became more illuminating,
and at its peak it danced all night.
Throughout life I shed tears as did the candle,
also aged, as it flickered the hours away.
Sadly I know when its light flickers no more,
my breath will similarly cease at the end of my days.
poem by Orlando Belo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If I Could Be The Wind
I want to be the wind blowing in forest playing their own song.
I want to be the wind bringing smiles for farmers.
I want to be the wind bringing rain, helping fireman in his hardest time.
I want to be the wind assisting plant to expand their kingdom.
I want to be the wind smoothly blowing over the sea and bringing fisherman home safely.
I want to be the wind covering the thing which ought to be left in past.
I want to be the wind clearing the mind of those with agony
I want to be the wind blowing in summer and tending to those without shelter.
I want to be the wind which bring happiness to the children taking their kite high up in the sky.
I want to be the wind removing clouds of torment and allowing sun to lay down its vital warmth.
I want to be the wind which remove thorn from path and help people to move forward.
I want to be the wind helping bird to take their first flight.
I want to be the wind which leaves versifier rapt giving him his divine words
I want to be the wind blowing all over place bringing happiness to people and vanishes stealthily, unnoticed.
I WANT TO BE THE WIND…
poem by Parth Gwari
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Poppy Brown and I
We've spent a lot of time together
Poppy Brown and I,
Sitting by the window-ledge
Staring at the sky;
Keeping silent vigil watching
Up and down the street,
Passing many moments, Listening for her feet.
We've spent a lot of time together
Poppy Brown and I,
Playing out the hours
Passing slowly by;
Keeping silent company,
Quiet as the moon,
Waiting for our loved one,
Hoping she'll come soon.
We've spent a lot of time together
Poppy Brown and I,
Loving at the window-ledge
Waiting by and by;
Keeping silent vigil,
Playing out the night,
Looking to each other,
A kiss and then a fight.
We've spent a lot of time together
Poppy Brown and I,
Waiting out the hours
Willing them to fly;
Keeping silent company,
Our mutual request:
The imminent arrival of
The one we love the best.
(Written 28th March 2006)
poem by John Carter Brown
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At the Pond
As I looked around the pond
I see people playing in the snow
Laughing and throwing snowballs at each other
Making snow angles with great pride
Children sledding down the hill as if flying
As I look on the pond
I see people skating
Skating like soaring eagles
Twirling like tornadoes
But graceful as a ballerina dance
As I look around the pond
I see a people having fun
Enjoying themselves
Helping each other as if they were their little sister
I see a peaceful and fun world
But I
I am having no fun
No fun at all
For I am sitting on the bench
Sitting on the bench like a lost dog
For I am cripple
poem by Cassy Taberna
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The Wind is Blowing
The wind is blowing,
Blowing slow and fast on my skin,
Blowing fast and hard on his skin.
The wind is cold tonight,
Blowing scary in the woods,
Blowing swiftly throw the night.
The wind is warm today,
Blowing hard in town,
Blowing soft in the county.
The wind is cool,
Blowing all the time,
As they say,
The wind is blowing!
poem by Angela M. Maynard
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Sir, What Is Revolution?
a child,
having overheard our conversation,
came to me, and asked,
'sir, what is revolution? '
i thought about it for a moment,
and sitting him on my knee, replied,
'you know when you're outside,
running and playing in the sun,
and you get too hot...
and you go down to the creek
and get a drink of water?
and you stand there enjoying
the shade of the trees,
and the coolness of the wind? '
he nodded his head.
'well, revolution is making sure
that the sunlight, the grasses,
the creek and it's water,
the trees that give shade,
and the wind a blowing...
will always be there,
for you and for your children! '
'and that children everywhere
will be born into a world that's safe,
that they have a home to go to,
and food to eat.
and that your momma and daddy
can sleep at night without worrying! '
the little boys shook his head up and down...
'that's cool... does god do that,
or do we? '
'out of the mouth of babes! ...'
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Aftermath
'The Tree Still Stands! '
Exclaimed the boy clasping his hands
To his Father who was walking the rear,
And to his Grandfather who was nowhere near.
For happy was He.
For standing there so straight and tall
Was the tree whose limbs He crawled
And the branches from which He played,
And the root where His head once laid.
And the many leaves.
Now the Father whom hearing His Son
Came to his side in a moment run
Then He stopped; for the tree He saw
Then the Father just stood in awe,
And uttered; 'my old friend'.
For standing there was His friend
From which before His youth was spent
By climbing and playing games,
And hiding under, from the cold and rain.
And the wind.
Then the Grandfather came strolling up
And He paused, in a moment hush
To reflect to a different year
When He was a Child, and He cried a tear.
And He clasped His hands.
For he was then again a Child
And then again He cried and smiled,
For He remembered His Father and He,
And how together they planted a tree.
And it still stands.
'Thank GOD the tree still stands! '
Cried the Grandfather clasping His hands.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Under Our Tree
Like fine diamonds, the stars could shine
The evening breeze blowing so fair,
From the dark end I could see none,
And from the light end I could see you come,
The leaves will wither with honour,
Witnessing the arrival of the expected,
Under our tree was a house of love
Midnight approaches for two almost lovers,
Under our tree were moments of glee,
The romantic experiences we saw,
Under our tree was a fairtytale
The sentimental touch,
Under our tree was a moment of relaxation,
The sensetional periodic hugs,
Under that tree was a paradise,
Sitting there, sitting with you
Looking there, looking at stars,
Touching there, touching you legs,
Under our tree was a lost story
It was always you and me there,
The world see but it could never know,
Such our place was so nice to be,
Like proving something to someone,
Someone who is expecting nothing,
In pain and in joy, it remains our tree,
And for what the future has for us,
So shall we always look back at the tree,
And so shall we know where it started,
Under our tree was friendship,
Under our tree was more and more,
Under this tree shall be even more
poem by Gaylord Munemo
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The Fishes' Message, Poet: Sohrab Sepehri
I went to the pond
Hoping to see the reflection of my loneliness in the water
There was no water in the pond.
The fishes were saying:
'"It is not the trees' fault at all.
It was a sultry summer noon,
The bright son of water, sat by the pond's edge
And the eagle of the sun dived down and lifted him up & up in the air.
To hell with our not reaching any oxygen from water.
And the glitter has left our scales all together.
Instead, that big light,
The reflection of that red carnation in the water
Whose heart, if the wind was blowing, would beat behind the layers of neglect,
was our eyes.
It was a window to the confession of paradise.
If you see God in the palpitations of the garden,
Make an effort and tell him that the fishes'' pond is dry.'"
The wind was going to visit the plane tree,
I was going to visit God.
poem by Mehraneh Hosseini
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So Quiet In Here
Foghorns blowing in the night
Salt sea air in the morning breeze
Driving cars all along the coastline
This must be what its all about
Oh this must be what its all about
This must be what paradise is like
So quiet in here, so peaceful in here
So quiet in here, so peaceful in here
The warm look of radiance on your face
And your heart beating close to mine
And the evening fading in the candle glow
This must be what its all about
Oh this must be what its all about
This must be what paradise is like
So quiet in here. so peaceful in here
So quiet in here, yeah, so peaceful in here
All my struggling in the world
And so many dreams that dont come true
Step back, put it all away
It dont matter, it dont matter anymore
Oh this must be what paradise is like
This must be what paradise is like
Its so quiet in here, so peaceful in here
Its so quiet in here, so peaceful in here
A glass of wine with some friends
Talking into the wee hours of the dawn
Sit back and relax your mind
This must be, this must be, what its all about
This must be what paradise is like
Oh this must be what paradise is like
So quiet in here, so peaceful in here
So quiet in here, so peaceful in here
Big ships out in the night
And were floating across the waves
Sailing for some other shore
Where we can be what we wanna be
Oh this must be what paradise is like
This must be what paradise is like
Baby its so quiet in here, so peaceful in here
So quiet in here, so peaceful in here
So quiet in here, so peaceful in here
So quiet in here, you can hear, its so quiet
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Night Of the Sea Shore
My above is a vast dark blue sky
It is full of diamond like shining twinkling stars.
The light of the moonlit the whole sea shore
And in front of me
It is the beautiful deep blue sea.
The waves are like children who are playing
In a vast ground made of water.
The beautiful sound of the tide
In the quiet sea shore
The slight and sweet breeze, which is blowing quietly.
These are the things which happens in a night
Near a quiet sea shore..
poem by Anisha Laskar
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Watching For Pa
Three little forms in the twilight gray,
Searching the shadows across the way;
Two pair of black eyes, and one of blue --
Brimful of love, and of mischief too;
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Sitting by the window,
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Sitting by the window,
Watching for Pa!
May, with her placid and thoughtful brow,
Beaming with kindness and love just now;
Willie the youngest, in anguish did lay,
Stealing sly kisses from sister May,
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Sitting by the window,
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Sitting by the window,
Watching for Pa!
Nellie, with ringlets of sunny hue,
Cosily nested between the two;
Pressing her cheeks to the window pane,
Wishing the absent one home again.
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Sitting by the window,
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Sitting by the window,
Watching for Pa!
Now there are shouts from the window seat;
There is a patter of childish feet;
Gaily they rush through the lighted hall --
"Coming at last" is the joyful call.
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Standing on the doorstep,
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Watching for Pa!
Standing on the doorstep,
Watching for Pa!
poem by Henry Clay Work
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Vivaldi, concerto for flute
Children playing on a green playground
Mothers watching
Closely watching
The faces of children
Smiling
Cool air
Green leaves brown leaves yellow leaves
Soft wind
Leaves falling down to the slow soft wind
Children running
Chasing each other
They are playing
A mother feels the soft wind
Cool air
And sees the trickles of leaves
Blending green brown yellow
With sunshine as canvass
Nature and human figures of mothers and children
Blending
Amazing
What a beautiful painting has God
In quick short brushes
Effortlessly with perfect strokes did make
The frame is laughter of children.
I am taking the whole picture for home.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Flickering Candle
With a flickering candle,
she walks the streets alone
looking for her lover
who failed to come home.
Is he in the arms of someone new?
Has he forsaken her
only time will tell?
Until then she walks alone
with a flickering candle as a friend.
Each night you will see her
calling out his name
as the shadows fall,
never receiving a reply
to her pleading call.
28 July 2009
poem by David Harris
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Sitting At The Wheel
I can hear the music playing
I can hear the word that youre saying
I can see the lovelife in your eyes
Whats the use in looking for an answer
I might find out
It could be a disaster
Hold on to your own time
Dont let go
Dont let go
Im sitting at the wheel
Watching the river roll roll on by
Sitting at the wheel
Dont let the river run dry
I can see your face on a piece of tomorrow
Ill hang my dream on a road I can follow
I gotta touch the warmth of your love
Not gonna take a chance a
Change of direction
Gonna keep on rolling till I find the connection
Hold on to your lifeline
Dont let
Dont let go
Sitting at the wheel
Watching the river roll roll on by
Sitting at the wheel
Dont let the river run dry
Im sitting at
Im sitting at the wheel
Like a voyeur standing at the edge of time
Looking for a reason
Thats got no rhyme
Love took a corner
Shot off for a mile
Rock on --- rocker
I can hear the music playing
I can hear the word that youre saying
I can see the lovelife in your eyes
Aint no use in looking for an answer
I might find out
It could be a disaster
Hold on to your own time
Dont let go
Dont let go
Im sitting at the wheel
Watching the river rock and roll on by
Sitting at the wheel
I am just sitting
Im just sitting at the wheel
Im just sitting at the wheel
Watching the river roll by
Rock and roll by
Sitting at the wheel
I am just sitting
Sitting at the wheel
If youre sitting at the wheel
Watch the rocker roll by
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Under The Mango Tree
i like the idea
of doing many things under the mango tree
like
watching time go by like it is a stranger
and i
am a stranger too watching time pass by
like i am so interested
with what time
can do to me
making me old
making the mango tree bloom and flower and have fruits
and they are so many
that the mango tree bends
to the ground
and time stays for a while and ripens the fruits
and make all of them
in time
fall one by one to the ground
like some kind
of withered flowers
luscious, sweet, fruits of the mango tree
falling
by the slightest passing of the wind
and then the children
come and with all joy
pick them one by one
putting what they can
under
their shirts and still rushing
to keep
and take some more
under the mango tree
all the people
are so much alike
the rushing, the taking, the joy
of always having more
and it will never stop
as i watch time slowly go by
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Oh! That We Two Were Maying
1 Oh! that we two were Maying
2 Down the stream of the soft spring breeze;
3 Like children with violets playing
4 In the shade of the whispering trees.
5 Oh! that we two sat dreaming
6 On the sward of some sheep-trimmed down,
7 Watching the white mist steaming
8 Over river and mead and town.
9 Oh! that we two lay sleeping
10 In our nest in the churchyard sod,
11 With our limbs at rest on the quiet earth's breast,
12 And our souls at home with God!
poem by Charles Kingsley
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A Day In Park
swings, slides and sand
the park so peaceful early in the day
the sun rising, shadows casting across the grass
the breeze flow so soft, quiet and free
the ball diamond so peaceful and empty
soon the sounds of children laughing and parents chatting
the park comes to life with all to enjoy
dogs playing catch, kids flying kites
grills cooking and picnics galore
the fields so full from footballs to baseballs
playing catch, to playing tag
reading on a bench, laying on a blanket for a tan
the park so pictureous and a masterpiece
It's art and spirit so priceless
we never have enough parks for all to see
to be free and play
Parks nature's playground for us to play
poem by Michael Peterson
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Beach Chairs
Sitting on the beach chairs
watching the setting sun
holding hands and reminiscing
how it all begun
Sitting on the beach chairs
watching the ships out on the sea
holding hands and smiling
together we're meant to be
Sitting on the beach chairs
watching people walking past
holding hands and knowing
that our love will always last
Sitting on the beach chairs
watching the waves along the shore
holding hands we realize
our love is stronger than before
Sitting on the beach chairs
watching the changing tide
holding hands with happiness
to be by each others side
Sitting on the beach chairs
watching the sunrise
holding hands with tears of joy
there are no more good-byes
poem by Joyce Ebrecht
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