One-Hearted
When those red berries come in springtime,
Flushing on your southland branches,
Take home an armful, for my sake,
As a symbol of our love.
poem by Wang Wei
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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O Southland!
O Southland! O Southland!
Have you not heard the call,
The trumpet blown, the word made known
To the nations, one and all?
The watchword, the hope-word,
Salvation's present plan?
A gospel new, for all-for you
Man shall be saved by man.
O Southland! O Southland!
Do you not hear to-day
The mighty beat of onward feet,
And know you not their way?
'Tis forward, 'tis upward,
On to the fair white arch
Of Freedom's dome, and there is room
For each man who would march.
O Southland, fair Southland!
Then why do you still cling
To an idle age and a musty page,
To a dead and useless thing?
'Tis springtime! 'Tis work-time!
The world is young again!
And God's above, and God is love,
And men are only men.
O Southland! my Southland!
O birthland! do not shirk
The toilsome task, nor respite ask,
But gird you for the work.
Remember, remember
That weakness stalks in pride;
That he is strong who helps along
The faint one at his side.
poem by James Weldon Johnson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Southland In The Springtime
Maybe well make texas by the morning
Light the bayou with our tail lights in the night
800 miles to el paso from the state line
And we never have the money for the flight
Im in the back seat sleepy from the travel
We played our hearts out all night long in new orleans
And Im dirty from the diesel fumes, drinking coffee black
When the first breath of texas comes in clean
And theres something bout the southland in the springtime
Where the waters flow with confidence and reason
Though I miss her when Im gone
It wont ever be too long
Till Im home again to spend my favorite season
When God made me born a yankee he was teasin
Theres no place like home and none more pleasin
Than the southland in the springtime
In georgia nights are softer than a whisper
Beneath a quilt somebodys mother made by hand
With the farmland like a tapestry
Passed down through generations
And the peach trees stitched across the land
Therell be cider up near helen off the roadside
And boiled peanuts in a bag to warm your fingers
And the smoke from the chimneys meets its maker in the sky
With a song that winter wrote whose melody lingers
And theres something bout the southland in the springtime
Where the waters flow with confidence and reason
Though I miss her when Im gone
It wont ever be too long
Till Im home again to spend my favorite season
When God made me born a yankee he was teasin
Theres no place like home and none more pleasin
Than the southland in the springtime
song performed by by Indigo Girls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Appearances
I hated them when I was four years old,
The bright pink berries on the pepper tree.
And now they seem quite beautiful to me.
My tower of dreams when I was four years old
Was such a tree. Its branches hid me well,
Although I so disliked the berries' smell.
I had my dreams when I was four years old . . .
But groundling now, who once could mount in air,
I judge the high-swung bright pink berries, fair.
poem by Lesbia Harford
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Alaskan Balladry, No.1
The Northland reared his hoary head
And spied the Southland leagues away-
'Fairest of all fair brides,' he said,
'Be thou my bride, I pray!'
Whereat the Southland laughed and cried:
'I'll bide beside my native sea,
And I shall never be thy bride
Till thou com'st wooing me!'
The Northland's heart was a heart of ice,
A diamond glacier, mountain high-
Oh, love is sweet at any price,
As well know you and I!
So gayly the Northland took his heart
And cast it in the wailing sea-
'Go, thou, with all thy cunning art,
And woo my bride for me!'
For many a night and for many a day,
And over the leagues that rolled between,
The true-heart messenger sped away
To woo the Southland queen.
But the sea wailed loud, and the sea wailed long,
While ever the Northland cried in glee:
'Oh, thou shalt sing us our bridal song,
When comes my bride, O sea!'
At the foot of the Southland's golden throne
The heart of the Northland ever throbs-
For that true-heart speaks in the waves that moan,
The songs that it sings are sobs.
Ever the Southland spurns the cries
Of the messenger pleading the Northland's part;
The summer shines in the Southland's eyes-
The winter bides in her heart!
And ever unto that far-off place
Which love doth render a hallowed spot,
The Northland turneth his honest face
And wonders she cometh not.
The sea wails loud, and the sea wails long,
As the ages of waiting drift slowly by,
But the sea shall sing no bridal song-
As well know you and I!
poem by Eugene Field
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Royal Flush!
The ‘Assuies’ are levying a tax on water output, so called the ‘flushing tax’,
Some are not flushing as much do reduce their water bill,
Some are going “outside” in their outback, if you will,
In this world wide economic slow down you can’t be lax.
Some businesses are getting to point of developing ‘waterless toilets’,
The composting toilets are great for saving water and money,
They come in a variety of styles and you have much to gain,
With the average household flushing up to 35,000 litres of potable water down the drain each year,
Ecoflo waterless toilets will save you from flushing water and money down the drain.
This is about as good as it gets,
I hope that this will not lead banning of the term flushing,
Because where will the USTA US Open be played?
In Compost Meadows?
That doesn’t sound right.
(2-21-09)
poem by Joe Rosochacki
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Springtime Love # 2
Cold winds of winter
have blown far away-
Springtime is now time
and love is today.
Springtime is our time
when mating birds sing-
Our time is love time
and love time is spring
Springtime-
Once in a lifetime
spring comes,
blossoms and then
springtime
moves on forever.
No second spring again.
Kisses and blossoms
and sweet birds of May,
they're to remember
when spring slips away.
poem by Daniel Artemas Harmon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The wooing of the southland
(ALASKAN BALLAD)
The Northland reared his hoary head
And spied the Southland leagues away--
"Fairest of all fair brides," he said,
"Be thou my bride, I pray!"
Whereat the Southland laughed and cried:
"I'll bide beside my native sea,
And I shall never be thy bride
Till thou com'st wooing me!"
The Northland's heart was a heart of ice,
A diamond glacier, mountain high--
Oh, love is sweet at any price,
As well know you and I!
So gayly the Northland took his heart
And cast it in the wailing sea--
"Go, thou, with all thy cunning art,
And woo my bride for me!"
For many a night and for many a day,
And over the leagues that rolled between,
The true-heart messenger sped away
To woo the Southland queen.
But the sea wailed loud, and the sea wailed long,
While ever the Northland cried in glee:
"Oh, thou shalt sing us our bridal song,
When comes my bride, O sea!"
At the foot of the Southland's golden throne
The heart of the Northland ever throbs--
For that true-heart speaks in the waves that moan,
The songs that it sings are sobs.
Ever the Southland spurns the cries
Of the messenger pleading the Northland's part;
The summer shines in the Southland's eyes--
The winter bides in her heart!
And ever unto that far-off place
Which love doth render a hallowed spot,
The Northland turneth his honest face
And wonders she cometh not.
The sea wails loud, and the sea wails long,
As the ages of waiting drift slowly by,
But the sea shall sing no bridal song--
As well know you and I!
poem by Eugene Field
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This Time Is My Time
This time is my time to think about the spring
and all those little bluebirds that have a song to sing.
And when my thoughts are on them
my heart is singing too, singing like a fool
that's so in love, so in love with you.
This time is my time to take it in my stride
and show the world I love you and never let it hide.
Let all the springtime flowers make me feel like them,
blushing with rosy red colors over and over again.
There won't be another time like this.
I can't let it pass me by.
For when the springtime's here again
if you're not here I'll cry.
Now this time is my time to think about the past
when all those little bluebirds flew
'cause springtime doesn't last.
Then sadly I'll remember when I had to say
good bye to love, goodbye to you
'cause my time went away.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Symbol of love
When you and your wife had your baby, he became the ultimate symbol of love that you two share.
He represents a love that will stand the test of time and that shines brighter than a flare.
Some people think that wedding rings are the symbol of love between a man and his wife.
But wedding rings are just pieces of metal and they can't touch the symbol of love that comes from this tiny life.
poem by Randy Johnson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Berries! ! ! ! !
Mulberries
On a visit to granny in the Doon valley
It was March, the old tree full of Mulberries.
Red, purple teasing from far, ran with cane basket.
Picked one, ate some while the birds created a racket.
Strawberries
Strawberri es in white boxes, one atop other
The hawker sat on his knees, said go no further.
I protest too expensive, not for the masses.
Rich eat raw, make a tart or with cream in glasses.
Wild Berries
On way back from school at noon, attack wild berries.
Are for free and so yummy, home a lot we carry.
We laugh and shriek as our skirts get stuck in thorns,
Satiated, come back home, with berries, skirt torn
Written in ancient japanese form Sitigotyo
06.04.09
Mamta Agarwal
poem by Mamta Agarwal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Symbol Of Trust
It is about you and me,
And it is about lust and love;
But where is the symbol of trust?
It is about a boy and a girl,
And it is about a man and a woman;
But where is the symbol of trust?
Allegations and manoevres,
But a better classroom will make the difference!
For today i have met you.
Who is telling the truth and, who is telling the lie?
For i am only human and do make mistakes at times;
But where is the my lover to satisfy me?
There is no pity in war!
And you are fighting bullets with stones;
But, where is the love that you promised me?
It is about the mind of peace and the mind at war,
And it is about you and i on this love;
But where is the symbol of trust?
It is about the world that we live in,
And it is about the lust of the people than love;
But where is the symbol of trust?
Now i know where this world is heading towards.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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December Love
With a feeling of joy and happiness December entrances,
Filling us with warm love during days forever contracting.
As the month shortens we embrace as our love enhances,
Awaiting the celebration of our sacred love, consecrating.
Looking through our child's eyes this time of year enchants,
Seeking out the brightly colored lights blinding all our passion.
Dazzled by draped, sparkling lights on most barren branches,
Leaving behind all other thoughts as if they are out of fashion.
Our sacred search for the one icon or symbol of atonement,
All this searching leads up to a single night, symbolic of our life.
A single symbol of our love causes us such great torment,
For this one moment we love all others without fearful strife.
We know deep in our hearts love needs no such adornment,
We search on; forgetting love is the perfect gift resplendent.
From my poetry book 'Our Seasons of Ardent Love' available on www.Amazon.com
poem by Joe Wocoski
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The sincerity of the art worker must permeate the song as naturally as the green leaves break through the dead branches in springtime.
quote by Alma Gluck
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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North-way Woods
A visit to Norway
A journey back in time,
Massive trees left and right,
Stretching their branches skyward,
Reaching for the sun that seldom shows its face,
With rocks happy to reflect its mighty rays,
Hills would make their home for moose and deer,
White houses cling to steep slopes;
Tumbledown shacks cower in their shadow,
Nature is always ready for nature callings,
With berries and mushrooms so wild.
When the mist clears and the curtain drops,
Souls engulfed in a red, white and blue shroud
Witness
Love blossoming in the house of
Love.
poem by Ibrahim Ibn Salma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In The Springtime
In the springtime, all things begin to glow,
autumn’s seeds that fell begin to grow
as a breath of newborn air
stretches out from everywhere.
In the springtime, love’s finger
stretches to touch everyone.
Eyes flutter to give new life
a chance under heaven’s skies.
In the springtime, tender kisses,
the promise of things to come.
Warm hearts beat tenderly
under a warming sun.
21-22 July 2010
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Obedient to natures laws
Obedient to nature’s laws.
The last remaining berries glow
On frosted branches white as snow.
A meagre source of sustenance.
Which gives small birds a fighting chance.
Of surviving until the spring.
Returns to renew everything.
The few who manage to survive.
The hardy ones will live and thrive.
Compete for mates with whom to breed
Spring will provide their every need
They will build nest and raise their brood.
Instinctively they know they should.
The last remaining berries fed
The hardiest the rest are dead.
Saturday,21 January 2012
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sweet Home Alabama
Big wheels keep on turning
Carry me home to see my kin
Singing songs about the Southland
I miss Alabamy once again
And I think its a sin, yes
Well I heard mister Young sing about her
Well, I heard ole Neil put her down
Well, I hope Neil Young will remember
A Southern man don't need him around anyhow
Sweet home Alabama
Where the skies are so blue
Sweet Home Alabama
Lord, I'm coming home to you
In Birmingham they love the gov' nor
Now we all did what we could do
Now Watergate does not bother me
Does your conscience bother you?
Tell the truth
Sweet home Alabama
Where the skies are so blue
Sweet Home Alabama
Lord, I'm coming home to you
Here I come Alabama
Now Muscle Shoals has got the Swampers
And they've been known to pick a song or two
Lord they get me off so much
They pick me up when I'm feeling blue
Now how about you?
Sweet home Alabama
Where the skies are so blue
Sweet Home Alabama
Lord, I'm coming home to you
Sweet home Alabama
Oh sweet home baby
Where the skies are so blue
And the guv'nor's true
Sweet Home Alabama
Lord, I'm coming home to you
song performed by by Jewel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Springtime Magic
There is so much magic in springtime
As our landscape begins to wake up
Much like a warm delicious coffee
That we sip from a special coffee cup
Little sprouts pop out of the ground
Oh, what did I plant last year?
Often we get a big surprise and
It's so pretty that we may shed a tear
Trees that were naked and quite ugly
Begin to have a fuzzy green
For leaf buds are really excited
To open in springtime it seems
I love this time of year and without it
It would be ever so tragic
Nothing makes me happier than
Mother Nature's Springtime Magic!
poem by Marilyn Lott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Barberry-Bush
The bush that has most briers and bitter fruit
Waits till the frost has turned its green leaves red,
Its sweetened berries will thy palate suit,
And thou mayst find e'en there a homely bread;
Upon the hills of Salem scattered wide,
Their yellow blossoms gain the eye in Spring;
And straggling e'en upon the turnpike's side,
Their ripened branches to your hand they bring;
I've plucked them oft in boyhood's early hour,
That then I gave such name, and thought it true;
But now I know that other fruit as sour,
Grows on what now thou callst Me and You;
Yet wilt thou wait the autumn that I see,
Will sweeter taste than these red berries be.
poem by Jones Very
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sweeet Home Alabama
Big wheels keep on turning
Carry me home to see my kin
Singing songs about the Southland
I miss Alabamy once again
And I think its a sin, yes
Well I heard mister Young sing about her
Well, I heard ole Neil put her down
Well, I hope Neil Young will remember
A Southern man don't need him around anyhow
Sweet home Alabama
Where the skies are so blue
Sweet Home Alabama
Lord, I'm coming home to you
In Birmingham they love the governor
Now we all did what we could do
Now Watergate does not bother me
Does your conscience bother you?
Tell the truth
Sweet home Alabama
Where the skies are so blue
Sweet Home Alabama
Lord, I'm coming home to you
Here I come Alabama
Now Muscle Shoals has got the Swampers
And they've been known to pick a song or two
Lord they get me off so much
They pick me up when I'm feeling blue
Now how about you?
Sweet home Alabama
Where the skies are so blue
Sweet Home Alabama
Lord, I'm coming home to you
Sweet home Alabama
Oh sweet home baby
Where the skies are so blue
And the governor's true
Sweet Home Alabama
Lordy Lord, I'm coming home to you
Yea, yea Montgomery's got the answer
song performed by by Lynyrd Skynyrd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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