Only for a moment
Biking along Lehigh drive
On an early sunny morning
Not a cloud in the azure sky
My! My! What a wonderful day!
I continued onward until
I reached the Lehigh boat-launch pad.
No longer able to resist
The allure of the calm river
I laid my bicycle against
A hillock, shed my shoes and socks
And walked to the shallow rivers edge
Stood there for a moment or two
Walked in ankle deep from shore
And became a young lad once more.
poem by Albert Ahearn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Early In The Morning
Early in the morning and I cant get right
Had a little date with my baby last night
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Now its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to all the places where we used to go
Went to your house but you dont live there no more
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to your friends house but she was out
Knock on your fathers door and he began to shout get out there boy
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to doogie chain to get something to eat
Waiter looked at me and said you sure look beat
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Get Off Of My Cloud
(mick jagger and keith richards)
I live in an apartment on the ninety-ninth floor of my block
And I sit at home looking out the window
Imagining the world has stopped
Then in flies a guy whos all dressed up like a union jack
And says, Ive won five pounds if I have his kind of detergent pack
I say, hey! you! get off of my cloud
Hey! you! get off of my cloud
Hey! you! get off of my cloud
Dont hang around cause twos a crowd
On my cloud baby
The telephone is ringing,
I say, hi, its me. who is it there on the line?
A voice says, hi, hello, how are you?
Well, I guess Im doin fine
He says, its three a.m., theres too much noise
Dont you people ever wanna go to bed?
Just cause you feel so good, do you have
To drive me out of my head?
I say, hey! you! get off of my cloud
Hey! you! get off of my cloud
Hey! you! get off of my cloud
Dont hang around cause twos a crowd
On my cloud baby
I was sick and tired, fed up with this,
And decided to take a drive downtown
It was so very quiet and peaceful
There was nobody, not a soul around
I laid myself out, I was so tired and I started to dream
In the morning the parking tickets were just like
A flag stuck on my window screen
I say, hey! you! get off of my cloud
Hey! you! get off of my cloud
Hey! you! get off of my cloud
Dont hang around cause twos a crowd
On my cloud
Hey! you! get off of my cloud
Hey! you! get off of my cloud
Hey! you! get off of my cloud
Dont hang around cause twos a crowd
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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That's wonderful love.......
How wonderful to win your heart with a smile
How wonderful to kiss your lips with hopeful
How wonderful to get your heart with love
How wonderful to see your soul in me
How wonderful to laugh with your sweet words
How wonderful to hold you tight and kiss gently
How wonderful to fly with you to the dream land
How wonderful to drive you through the mountain valleys
How wonderful to be with you within four walls
How wonderful to give you what you look for
How wonderful to hug you and keep you in my arms
How wonderful to wear our wedding rings on our wedding day
How wonderful to bind your love to last for ever
poem by Ravi Sathasivam
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Red Sky Warning
I saw the cloud in the morning sky
So I turned to go back inside,
And I said to my wife, ‘It’s a shepherd’s dawn,
Or the red sky early warning, torn
By the man with the evil eye.’
The silence hung in a leaden pall
As she turned her face away,
And I said: ‘I’m only the man behind,
I’m not to account for all mankind
Or a cloud at the break of day.’
She looked again and she pulled the blind
And the house was dark and still.
‘I’ve looked my last on the works of man
Through whispered tears on a trembling hand,
Or the cloud beyond the hill.’
So she sat herself where she sits today
By the glow of the ash-wood fire,
But she sees and hears and tells me nought
While the devil inside her can’t be bought,
Or ever be made to tire.
So whenever a cloud in the early dawn
Glows red in the morning sky,
I say to my wife: ‘It’s a shepherd’s dawn,
Or the red sky early warning, torn
By the man with the evil eye.’
9 June 1972
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Fifteen Acres
I
I cling and swing
On a branch, or sing
Through the cool, clear hush of Morning, O!
Or fling my wing
On the air, and bring
To sleepier birds a warning, O!
That the night's in flight,
And the sun's in sight,
And the dew is the grass adorning, O!
And the green leaves swing
As I sing, sing, sing,
Up by the river,
Down the dell,
To the little wee nest,
Where the big tree fell,
So early in the morning, O!
II
I flit and twit
In the sun for a bit
When his light so bright is shining, O!
Or sit and fit
My plumes, or knit
Straw plaits for the nest's nice lining, O!
And she with glee
Shows unto me
Underneath her wings reclining, O!
And I sing that Peg
Has an egg, egg, egg,
Up by the oat-field,
Round by the mill,
Past the meadow,
Down the hill,
So early in the morning, O!
III
I stoop and swoop
On the air, or loop
Through the trees, and then go soaring, O!
To group with a troop
On the gusty poop
While the wind behind is roaring, O!
I skim and swim
By a cloud's red rim
And up to the azure flooring, O!
And my wide wings drip
As I slip, slip, slip,
Down through the rain-drops,
Back where Peg
Broods in the nest
On the little white egg,
So early in the morning, O!
poem by James Stephens
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Early Morning
(pal waaktaar/ mags)
Early morning
Eight oclock precise
I see the lonely august sun arise
Say you know
You will
Move me like you do
Out on the fields...
Im waiting the whole night through
Early morning, early morning, yeah
Ran the whole way
Down to the tracks
Through the doorway, then a last look back
Say you know
You will
Save me like you do
Out on the fields...
Ive waited the whole night through
Early morning, early morning, yeah
I climbed all the stairways
To find the rooftop clear
Got the shotgun lying with me here
Say you know
You will
Move me like you do
Out on the fields...
You know how it feels, yeah
Early morning, early morning, yeah
Early morning
Eight oclock precise
song performed by by A-Ha
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On That Sunny Golden Morning (Flying Bird Sonnet)
On that sunny golden early morning
while the beautiful flowers of the spring
were opening and were suddenly flowering
closer to each other they were moving
in the field, under the sky in the hay
intimately did with each other play
to each other they were really hooked
while the day had a somewhat bright outlook
and from each other they looked away
early on a sunny glorious day.
While little birds were nearby chirping
they heard an enchanting small cuckoo sing
their intimate affections were stirring
content and spent the day was a blessing
poem by Gert Strydom
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Barefoot Days
In the morning, very early,
That's the time I love to go
Barefoot where the fern grows curly
And grass is cool between each toe,
On a summer morning-O!
On a summer morning!
That is when the birds go by
Up the sunny slopes of air,
And each rose has a butterfly
Or a golden bee to wear;
And I am glad in every toe
Such a summer morning-O!
Such a summer morning!
poem by Rachel Field
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Wanted A Poem In The Early Morning-Even Before The Darkness Had Gone
I WANTED A POEM IN THE EARLY MORNING
I wanted a poem in the early morning
Even before the darkness had gone-
I wanted to hear words
That meant music
That said I was alive and could write-
I wanted a poem in the early morning
So that I could be justified
For the rest of the day-
Time and again I have written that poem
I write it now -
How wonderful when it flows as if it is real
I may never know that it is
But in writing it, thank God, I feel alive and blessed
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Fishers
The chill of late Autumn is in the morning
And before the sun comes out the sky looks gray
And Jack Iversen and Kenny are off fishing
They left quite early at the break of day.
They tow their boat to the ramp at San Remo
But only on a calm and windless day
And within sight of land they dropp their anchor
Where the fish might be schooling on the quiet bay.
For them a pleasant way to spend their morning
To fish with rods and lines from boat for three hours or four
Especially when the hungry fish are biting
A good morning's catch some twenty fish or more.
The gentle waves against the boat keep lapping
And the sun breaks through the clouds just after nine
It must be soothing for the nerves and pleasant
To sit and relax and fish in the sun shine.
The chill of late Autumn is in the morning
And the sun at nine shines through the clouds of gray
And Jack Iversen and Kenny are out fishing
In their boat anchored on San Remo bay
poem by Francis Duggan
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Early Christmas Morning
Listen to the children sing
Watch them dancing all around the Christmas tree
Waiting for the opening
Early Christmas morning
All around the world is sleeping
Little children there's no peeping
Wait and see what Santa's bringing
Early Christmas morning
Early Christmas morning
Icicles and breakfast cakes
Friends and family we will celebrate
Sounds that joy and laughter make
Early Christmas morning
All around and far off places
Angels waken smiling faces
Wrapping us with love and graces
Early Christmas morning
Early Christmas morning
song performed by by Cyndi Lauper from Merry Christmas... Have A Nice Life
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Kiss
i try lifting his head
he would simply resist
pulling my dupatta fringe
i would move my leg
he would hold on to my bossom
never allowing me to stir
i palyfully kissed the back of his palm
he broke into a divine smile
and would demand more
each time the hand reached my lips
i had no choice but to plant a kiss
and see him break into endless smiles
o, a wonderful six month old
he taught me the language of kiss
what wonderful rapport we hit at!
09oct2010
14.00 hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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From a certain point onward there is no longer any turning back. That is the point that must be reached.
quote by Franz Kafka
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Haunting Ride
Riding alone along a path
that runs parallel, north and south
Alongside the Lehigh River
I became acutely aware
of the beautiful surroundings
As they sped pass me on both sides.
As I pedaled along, the ghosts
of yesteryears took possession
of my mind and began to speak
in unspoken telepathy.
'you picked wildflowers on this path;
remember the white campions
you picked for your girlfriend Alice?
And coming up on your right, there!
that very large sycamore tree
where you once climbed it, showing off
for Alice, fell and broke your arm.
Remember? Sure you do, Albee.
And there! Coming up on your left
that special place near that cove,
remember what took place in there?
You both lost your virginity.
Remember the disappointment
the two of you felt afterwards? '
Near the completion of the ride
the phantoms relinquished my thoughts
and all those recent memories
vanished until some later day.
poem by Albert Ahearn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Misty River
This morning
Me in this Misty River
All the happiness
I am feeling inside myself
Misty River
The mist is coming
From this Misty River
There are clouds
In the sky
And the mist
Is caused by the condensation
Of the heat mixed in the cold water
Misty River
I am in a fishing boat
That boat is moving slowly in this
Misty river
It is early in the morning
I am eating my breakfast in the fishing boat in the middle of this
Misty River
I hear the birds singing early in the morning
In this Misty River
There must be trees because the sound of the birds is coming from the Branches
Misty River
So peaceful
It looks so different with the mist
No one is around but me
With my fishing boat
And the beautiful sound of the birds
It is so nice
To have a place to come to
Where I can
Hear the sound of the birds
And be left alone
With no one disturbing me
Misty River
This is my special place
And by afternoon
No clouds I will see
The birds are beautiful
Their song is just beautiful like mother nature intended it to be
If nobody else appreciates this Misty River
I do
Misty River
I will die for you
Misty River
I will shed my tears for you
I have been coming here for so long now
Misty River
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Grille 3501
They are known to be
one of the finest, decadent restaraunts
in Pennsylvanias' Lehigh Valley
a historic cuddly hotel
with a few ticks erased from father time
when a shot and a beer cost mearly a dime
when punching a man in the jaw
was never a crime
A sophisticated, yet unpretentious
spot where ones' troubles seem to flow away
from the hustle and bustle of a
dark and dreary day
To relax with a martini and enjoy the wall art of
the renaissance days, peacefull moons, starry skys
with young lovers dreams
fusion plates of succulent shrimp and sizzling steaks
even homemade cheescakes
beer from round' bout' the globe
satisfy ones' diet
yet the atmoshere
serene and quiet
a peaceful fullfilling site to see
stop by, have a drink on me
experience this, pleasurable, delectable
piece of dining history
poem by Matt Mondschein
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In The Early Afternoons Like Morning Glories
In the early afternoons like morning glories
I flourish under the sweetness of your sunny eyes
while in the blaze of your pretty smile my solitude
reaches out to you in a kind of invisible embrace
as if I am always flourishing in your blazing presence
drawing, continually drawing your radiance to me.
Sometimes there is only darkness when your soul
drops to the depths of a kind of sheer depression.
In the early afternoons like morning glories
I flourish under the sweetness of your sunny eyes
see a myriad of butterflies fluttering nearer
that visits me gently like the way I love you
and as the night sets in my life is ever folding,
closing and waiting for the sunshine of your touch.
poem by Gert Strydom
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My Friend Jane
My friend Jane had a lovely voice
and she also could write a tune
but I don't see her anymore
she went away far too soon.
I guess she's just a loner
who likes to move around
but I miss her songwriting
and the way she made a sound.
She went a bought a boat
it cost her a lot of money
now she's living on it
just her and her little dog Sunny.
I wished she'd stayed longer
but she needed to move on
one day she was here
the next she was up and gone.
But I'll never forget Jane
nor her little dog called Sunny
she was clever and creative
and at times very very funny!
poem by Kevin Halls
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Mac's Choice
the boat left at 9: 30 that evening
at the port there was a show of firecrackers
we both watched it
when it stopped he continued talking about the possibility
of this brother's feet being cut off
gangrene, but this brother had chosen death rather losing his feet
death is better than being alive and being unable to wear
a pair of shoes
it is not unique,
or bizarre
or being stupid and hardheaded,
there was one who had never to lose a foot or hand
but then
when he concluded that life is absurd he banged his car against the wall
and killed himself.
mac is a category not by itself but of those
who are brave enough
to call it quits
when essence is no longer essence
the accessory must give way
sometimes i think of it before everything else
the boat sailed the whole night with it hoary sound
letting out grey smoke
into the air
at 6: 30 in the morning it docked
somehow i thank God why with all these weird thoughts
no one
(including myself) jumped over board and then be forever lost
i admit i admire mac, but i am not mac.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Worries
my wife worries
about the dream that
i told her about
this early morning while
we are taking breakfast
it is all about a boat
alone
waiting on the bank
of the river
under a shade of trees
on filtered light
through the leaves
it worries her to know
that somehow soon
we shall be that boat's
passengers
that accommodate only
one of us
and not both
the other side has no name
but it is a place so certain
and acceptable
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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