The dance commonly begins about the middle of the afternoon or later, after sundown. When it begins in the afternoon, there is always an intermission of an hour or two for supper. The preliminary painting and dressing is usually the work of about two hours.
quote by James Mooney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Afternoon Tea
Tea time wont be the same without my donna
At night I lie awake and dream of donna
I think about that small cafe
Thats where we used to meet each day
And then we used to sit a while
And drink our afternoon tea
Ill take afternoon tea (afternoon tea)
If you take it with me (afternoon tea)
You take as long as you like
cause I like you, girl
I take sugar with tea (afternoon tea)
You take milk if you please (afternoon tea)
Like you talking to me
Because you ease my mind
Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba (afternoon tea)
Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba (afternoon tea)
Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba (afternoon tea)
Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba (afternoon tea)
Tea time still aint the same without my donna
At night I lie awake and dream of donna
I went to our cafe one day
They said that donna walked away
Youd think at least she might have stayed
To drink her afternoon tea
Ill take afternoon tea (afternoon tea)
If you take it with me (afternoon tea)
You take as long as you like
cause I like you, girl
I take afternoon tea (afternoon tea)
Every day of the week (afternoon tea)
Please come along if you like
Because I like you, girl
Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba (afternoon tea)
Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba (afternoon tea)
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An Afternoon Poem Is Rare
AN AFTERNOON POEM IS RARE
An Afternoon Poem is rare-
Afternoon is long after the first light-
Afternoon is a time of heaviness and quiet
A time of rest-
Afternoon is after the morning work has been done-
Afternoon is the weight of the day-
Afternoon is the time after the day has lost its freshness-
Still there must be afternoon poems-
There must be a beauty that emerges
In its own way,
Perhaps from where lovers meet
Perhaps from ‘ripeness is all’
Perhaps from the anticipation of evening
Perhaps from winter where it is the warmest time of day.
There must be afternoon poems-
Poems that celebrate all that warmth can bring-
Poems of rest poems of sleep-
Poems of waiting to believe
That in the evening
A new day and a new world
Will make life easier again.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sundown (out-take)
I'll see you at sundown
You can't back out now
The news is all over town
I'll see you at sundown
And they can put one of us
In a hole in the ground
Now it's three in the afternoon
And I'm frightened to death
When you're in the saloon
I wonder if he feels the same
For whoever wins there's still
The cowboy to blame
Sundown, give me some strength
I know I can't go it alone
Sundown, give me your strength
Give me a chance to go home
To go home
Three in the afternoon
And I'm frightened to death
When you're in the saloon
I hear the reverend feels the sin
For whoever wins there's still
The cowboy to blame
song performed by by Uriah Heep
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wednesday
Wednesday marks the middle of the week.
It's getting closer to the days that I seek.
Leave all papers and abandon and every file.
For a moment be a vagabond, a marauding exile.
This afternoon means that it's all downhill.
Fabulous Saturday will soon fill the bill.
Maybe a game of golf in the afternoon
Proves that Wednesdays can't come too soon.
Even the thought that the weekend is now close
Makes the workdays a whole lot less morose.
As I sit at lunch in the middle of the day,
I can't help but be giddy now I made it half way.
Work's getting easier and paper piles less high.
Each grunt and groan is turning into a sigh.
There's less to befuddle me and less to beguile
As each hour passes by it engenders a smile
poem by Gregory Huyette
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sundown
Ill see you at sundown
You cant back out now
The news is all over town
Ill see you at sundown
And they can put one of us
In a hole in the ground
Now its three in the afternoon
And Im frightened to death
When youre in the saloon
I wonder if he feels the same
For whoever wins theres still
The cowboy to blame
Sundown, give me some strength
I know I cant go it alone
Sundown, give me your strength
Give me a chance to go home
To go home
Three in the afternoon
And Im frightened to death
When youre in the saloon
I hear the reverend feels the sin
For whoever wins theres still
The cowboy to blame
song performed by by Uriah Heep
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Long Afternoon Became Longer
THE LONG AFTERNOON BECAME LONGER
The long afternoon became longer-
Time had no end and boredom also-
We all know it will eventually pass
But in the middle we are marooned waiting
Without any idea whatsoever of what to do-
I write these lines because I know
Boredom too has its beauty-
And waiting for nothing also its dream-
And out of nowhere there may come
Long into the long afternoon
Far after all the work is done and nothing remains
While waiting is still going on
A small poem to break the monotony
And give meaning back to life.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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We say that the hour of death cannot be forecast, but when we say this we imagine that hour as placed in an obscure and distant future. It never occurs to us that it has any connection with the day already begun or that death could arrive this same afternoon, this afternoon which is so certain and which has every hour filled in advance.
quote by Marcel Proust
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We say that the hour of death cannot be forecast, but when we say this we imagine that hour as placed in an obscure and distant future. It never occurs to us that it has any connection with the day already begun or that death could arrive this same afternoon, this afternoon which is so certain and which has every hour filled in advance.
quote by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sunday Afternoon
I can think of better days
As I look into your eyes
And I feel that in a way
I know that youll be alright
And he walks for a mile
Its his style
Baby never acts wild
Feels hes invencible
He walks for a while
But I never ask why
He needs his time in isolation
Its your views
On your groove
On a sunday afternoon
Paint it slow
Then youll know
What you need to work out soon
Im gonna whisper in your ear
Ive a lot of things to say to you
Ill give you all my universe
Youre all I want and thats for sure
And he walks for a mile
Its his style
Baby never acts wild
Feels hes invencible
He walks for a while
But I never ask why
He needs his time in isolation
Its your views
On your groove
On a sunday afternoon
Paint it slow
Then youll know
What you need to work out soon
Its your views
On your groove
On a sunday afternoon
Paint it slow
Then youll know
What you need to work out soon
In your darkest hour
Take my hand and Ill show you
Understand it much better
Ill make sure you get there
Its your views
On your groove
On a sunday afternoon
Paint it slow
Then youll know
What you need to work out soon
Its your views
On your groove
On a sunday afternoon
Paint it slow
Then youll know
What you need to work out soon
song performed by by Texas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When The Late Afternoon Begins To Fade
When the late afternoon begins to fade
then I do still think about you
as if you are right here,
then you are in my memories.
When the first stars appear,
when the light grows faint,
you are in my thoughts
as if we are embracing.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Opposite Begins
When one has had it,
With a havoc that misfits...
That one agitated,
Finds an exit and splits.
People known to create conflict,
Seek an attention they don't get...
Until,
The opposite begins.
Opposition steps in.
They pretend a trust to believe,
To have others perceive but...
The opposite begins,
For them.
Wake up and take notice,
That the opposite begins for them.
Those who charade innocence.
The opposite begins for them.
Those masking evil intent.
The opposite begins for them.
When one has had it,
With a havoc that misfits...
Well,
The opposite begins.
The opposite begins.
And...
That one agitated,
Finds an exit and splits.
But then,
The opposite begins.
The opposite begins.
That one who's had it,
Splits and runs into love...
To know the opposite begins,
When someone genuine comes in...
To view.
When one has had it,
With a havoc that misfits...
Well,
The opposite begins.
The opposite begins.
And...
That one who's had it,
Splits and runs into love...
To know the opposite begins,
When someone genuine comes in...
To view.
They want it quick.
And...
When one has had it,
With a havoc that misfits...
To then see someone who genuinely fits,
Well...
The opposite begins pursued.
Oh yes it does.
An opposite begins pursued.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Sacred Shrines
Turn back the clock 1977
When we were children
Who liked to rock and dance in parks
On the 4th of July.
Turn up the Ramones real loud,
Sex Pistols in the city,
And it was So Easy to Fall in Love
FM radio afternoon.
There were so many bands
And I remember the hour your mother
Told us Elvis Presley was dead,
It was a sad end to the summer.
No more county fairgrounds,
No more swimming at the lake;
In time, everything disappears with innocence
After the heart begins to break.
The record stores
In the blink of an eye were no more;
Back in the day, it was so meaningful
To meet in a place of music,
But the sacred shrines all have fallen.
poem by Uriah Hamilton
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There are few hours in life more agreeable than the hour dedicated to the ceremony known as afternoon tea.
quote by Henry James
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Journey
when you can look
in the mirror,
and see your self naked
without running like hell...
the journey begins!
when you can look
at your every action,
judging your self honestly
by motive and intent...
the journey begins!
when you can give away
all that you cling to
without asking for anything
in return...
the journey begins!
when you can do the right thing
irregardless of the cost,
not caring what anyone says
or thinks...
the journey begins!
when you can see the faces
of God in the people you
despise the most, the ones
who've hurt you the most...
the journey begins!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Under certain circumstances there are few hours in life more agreeable than the hour dedicated to the ceremony known as afternoon tea.
quote by Henry James
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Morning
We are what we repeatedly do.
—Aristotle
You know how it is waking
from a dream certain you can fly
and that someone, long gone, returned
and you are filled with longing,
for a brief moment, to drive off
the road and feel nothing
or to see the loved one and feel
everything. Perhaps one morning,
taking brush to hair you'll wonder
how much of your life you've spent
at this task or signing your name
or rising in fog in near darkness
to ready for work. Day begins
with other people's needs first
and your thoughts disperse like breath.
In the in-between hour, the solitary hour,
before day begins all the world
gradually reappears car by car.
Anonymous submission.
poem by Deborah Ager
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Disco
every night is disco night
with you im living every moment for you
seeing things in a different way
of my god im thankful that youre leaving
is there something we can do, this afternoon
is there nothing left to say
oh your love, cautions you
you are something new
afternoon
ill make it up to somehow
im laughing and youre dancing like my mother
ill teach you to go off on me
shake, shake from the horror
mirror naked feeling hot
your radio is not store bought but stolen
another night is going out
its saturday and now youve got the fever
is there something we can do, this afternoon
is there nothing left to say
oh your love, cautions you
you are something new
afternoon
is there something we can do, this afternoon
is there nothing left to say
oh your love, warning you
and you are so beautiful
youll just have to do
is there nothing left to say
song performed by by Howie Day
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When the Bush Begins to Speak
They know us not in England yet, their pens are overbold;
We're seen in fancy pictures that are fifty years too old.
They think we are a careless race - a childish race, and weak;
They'll know us yet in England, when the bush begins to speak;
When the bush begins to speak,
When the bush begins to speak,
When the west by Greed's invaded, and the bush begins to speak.
'The leaders that will be', the men of southern destiny,
Are not all found in cities that are builded by the sea;
They learn to love Australia by many a western creek,
They'll know them yet in England, when the bush begins to speak;
When the bush begins to speak,
When the bush begins to speak,
When the west by Greed's invaded, and the bush begins to speak.
All ready for the struggle, and waiting for the change,
The army of our future lies encamped beyond the range;
Australia, for her patriots, will not have far to seek;
They'll know her yet in England when the bush begins to speak;
When the bush begins to speak,
When the bush begins to speak,
When the west by Greed's invaded, and the bush begins to speak.
We'll find the peace and comfort that our fathers could not find,
Or some shall strike the good old blow that leaves a mark behind.
We'll find the Truth and Liberty our fathers came to seek,
Or let them know in England when the bush begins to speak;
When the bush begins to speak,
When the bush begins to speak,
When the west by Greed's invaded, and the bush begins to speak.
poem by Henry Lawson
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June Afternoon
Didnt I tell you everything is possible in this dj vu?
Try the river boat, the carousel, feed the pigeons, bar-b-q.
Look at all the people, happy faces all around.
Smiling, throwing kisses, busy making lazy sounds
Its a bright june afternoon, it never gets dark.
Wah-wah! here comes the sun.
Get your green, green tambourine, lets play in the park.
Wah-wah! here comes the sun
Some folks are on blankets, slowly daydreaming
And reaching for their food.
Lets go buy an ice-cream and a magazine with an attitude
And put on a cassette, we can pretend that youre a star
Cos lifes so very simple just like la-la-la
Its a bright june afternoon...
Theres a painter painting his masterpiece.
There are some squirrels jumping in the trees,
Theres a wide-eyed boy with a red balloon.
All my life Ive longed for this afternoon.
song performed by by Roxette
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When Tree Branches Rub Against The Roof
When tree branches rub against the roof
the small bulbul runs past
during the afternoon hour
to the pool where it dives and rolls,
stretches out wings and shoot them out straight,
walking boldly up and down
stretches out wings,
stretches out wings
as he walks to and thro.
When tree branches rub against the roof
a light breeze blows,
while the sun burns hot as fire
and the neighbouring child calls
when the afternoon comes with its peace,
with thoughts from the past
when the afternoon comes,
when the afternoon comes
and sometimes I forget the present.
When tree branches rub against the roof
birds peck around everywhere
while moments are lingering
as leaves blow to the ground,
and I think of God as if He is here,
while the shades bring a kind of tranquillity
and I think of God
and I think of God
and find some deeper meaning to life.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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