This Year
This year
mixes spring and summer here,
a sharp wind chasing baking heat.
Hawthorn hangs like snow in clusters
with gorse and last year’s bracken at its feet,
turning the whole cliff into an in-between season.
Beyond the hills
lie great fields of daffodils
balancing organic gold against a leaden sky.
These the farmers grow
instead of food.
This they are paid to do
to keep abundance low
and prices high.
Below the cliff at Tregantle
another kind of fruit appears at low tide;
mines sown half a century ago,
relics of an earlier generation’s
resistance to invasion.
Someone has been blowing them up
with great enthusiasm.
At each explosion,
the gulls and jackdaws scream and fret
(and, having screamed, forget.)
But I remember.
These bombs were planted
in your father’s time and mine,
as they struggled to survive
a rising tide which, win or lose,
derailed their lives
and shadowed ours
with clouds that have retreated
to a new horizon
(but will not go away) .
poem by Brian Taylor
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Related quotes
My Boy Jack
1914-1918
'Have you news of my boy Jack?'
Not this tide.
'When d'you think that he'll come back?'
Not with this wind blowing, and this tide.
'Has anyone else had word of him?'
Not this tide.
For what is sunk will hardly swim,
Not with this wind blowing and this tide.
'Oh, dear, what comfort can I find?'
None this tide,
Nor any tide,
Except he did not shame his kind-
Not even with that wind blowing, and that tide.
Then hold your head up all the more,
This tide,
And every tide;
Because he was the son you bore,
And gave to that wind blowing and that tide!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Have You News of my Boy Jack?
'Have you news of my boy Jack?'
Not this tide.
'When d'you think that he'll come back?'
Not with this wind blowing, and this tide.
'Has anyone else had word of him?'
Not this tide.
For what is sunk will hardly swim,
Not with this wind blowing and this tide.
'Oh, dear, what comfort can I find?'
None this tide,
Nor any tide,
Except he did not shame his kind-
Not even with that wind blowing, and that tide.
Then hold your head up all the more,
This tide,
And every tide;
Because he was the son you bore,
And gave to that wind blowing and that tide!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Tides
Love in my heart was a fresh tide flowing
Where the starlike sea gulls soar;
The sun was keen and the foam was blowing
High on the rocky shore.
But now in the dusk the tide is turning,
Lower the sea gulls soar,
And the waves that rose in resistless yearning
Are broken forevermore.
poem by Sara Teasdale
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When Winter Darkening All Around
When winter covering all the ground
Hides every sign of Spring, sir.
However you may look around,
Pray what will then you sing, sir?
The Spring was here last year I know,
And many bards did flute, sir;
I shall not fear a little snow
Forbid me from my lute, sir.
If words grow dull and rhymes grow rare,
I'll sing of Spring's farewell, sir.
For every season steals an air,
Which has a Springtime smell, sir.
But if upon the other side,
With passionate longing burning,
Will seek the half unjeweled tide,
And sing of Spring's returning.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Gold In Them Hills
I know it doesn't seem that way
But maybe it's the perfect day
Even though the bills are piling
And maybe Lady Luck ain't smiling
But if we'd only open our eyes
We'd see the blessings in disguise
That all the rain clouds are fountains
Though our troubles seem like mountains
There's gold in them hills
There's gold in them hills
So don't lose heart
Give the day a chance to start
Every now and then life says
Where do you think you're going so fast
We're apt to think it cruel but sometimes
It's a case of cruel to be kind
And if we'd get up off our knees
Why then we'd see the forest for the trees
And we'd see the new sun rising
Over the hills on the horizon
There's gold in them hills
There's gold in them hills
So don't lose faith
Give the world a chance to say...
A word or two, my friend
There's no telling how the day might end
And we'll never know until we see
That there's gold in them hills
There's gold in them hills
So don't lose heart
Give the day a chance to start
There's gold in them hills...
There's gold in them hills...
song performed by by Coldplay
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Those Green Fields Of Kilmeedy
Those green fields of Kilmeedy I do remember still
They meet the gorse and bracken at the foot of Clara hill
A place of peace and beauty with mountains all around
Scarce touched by man's pollution where Nature's joys abound.
Even in summer in Kilmeedy the dawn comes with a chill
But skylark he is piping above the bracken hill
Through Spring and through the Summer he sings all through the day
And I fancy I can hear him o'er mountains far away.
The robin he is piping on flowering hawthorn tree
Across the miles of distance his music comes to me
And dunnock on the hedgerow and dipper in the stream
And song thrush piping gaily on ash by old bohreen.
All through the Spring and Summer the wildering flowers are seen
But green fields of Kilmeedy not always quite so green
In November and December the winds of Winter blow
And January and February bring frost and sleet and snow.
In mid March in Kilmeedy the first wildflowers appear
And weather still quite chilly though days of bloom are near
But April brings her blossoms and leaves behind her green
And May comes o'er the mountain the summer beauty queen.
Those green fields of kilmeedy I see them every day
And I hear the skylark piping o'er hillsides far away
And dunnock on the hedgerow and the dipper in the stream
And those green fields of Kilmeedy have never looked so green.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Spring Tones
Spring tones are coming
From the inside blooming
Spring is here everywhere
In footsteps of New Year
Flower garden come - grow
Melt down coldness snow
With freedom for earth
In its new freshness birth
Spring's time blowing wind
Towards icily rescind
Of bleakness deep dim
In the blow sweepings grim
Where cold waves glide
In its striking bitter tide
Flowing on to dark destiny
Still inside you and me
Spring tone rise - the blue sky!
In feelings of light high
That comes through the rays
Of the new meeting days
Give seeds of its outcomes
In birth of new blooms
And every day to be new
When it comes here through
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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Dully Doll
playing with joy, a laughter
that made the wood to cry, even
the great strong trees
wait the zoom breeze of the sea
cliff hanged the beautiful fully
grown flower, where the pollen
calls the roaring tide to fly, the
run where the Lilies sleep the
bird has something to say
droplets of spring color the
tide, Molave falls in love because
of thundering claps of baron
flee, come loving darling of Mt Fuji
waited for so long to find its
beauty
sharp tag in the every pub, the
belt loosen every pocket tab …
poem by Antonio Liao
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It Is A Bleak Season For Farmers
It is a bleak Season for farmers with climate change and livestock prices down
Some of them have sold what they can sell and moved to live and to find jobs in the town
For many of them the rains have come too late climate change affecting everywhere
Global warming is in every Country in the bigger World out there
Some arrogant Humans think they can control Nature how come they have got it so wrong
How egotistical they must be for to think they can control the one we to belong
For we too are a part of Nature as much as her creatures of sea and of land
And she will always be our master though some that do not understand
Many farmers due to climate change the land are leaving and that seems a sad thing to say
With less farmers less food in the supermarket but the wealthy they will be okay
For a farm food scarcity means higher food prices but for food they can afford for to pay
'Tis the poor will be condemned to suffer in times of food scarcity 'tis always this way
It is a bleak Season for farmers and that is a sad thing to hear
And for the have nots of the World it looks like another bleak year.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Life Is Lovely All the Year
When the buds are blossoming,
Smiling welcome to the spring,
Lovers choose a wedding day -
Life is love in merry May!
Spring is green - Fal lal la!
Summer's rose - Fal lal la!
It is sad when Summer goes,
Fal la!
Autumn's gold - Fal lal la!
Winter's grey - Fal lal la!
Winter still is far away -
Fal la!
Leaves in Autumn fade and fall;
Winter is the end of all.
Spring and summer teem with glee:
Spring and summer, then, for me!
Fal la!
In the Spring-time seed is sown:
In the Summer grass is mown:
In the Autumn you may reap:
Winter is the time for sleep.
Spring is hope - Fal lal la!
Summer's joy - Fal lal la!
Spring and Summer never cloy,
Fal la!
Autumn, toil - Fal lal la!
Winter, rest - Fal lal la!
Winter, after all, is best -
Fal la!
Spring and summer pleasure you,
Autumn, ay, and winter, too -
Every season has its cheer;
Life is lovely all the year!
Fal la!
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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New Year! New You!
And so it's here, another year,
Brand new from start to end,
Towards the future now to steer...
New Year! New You! Dear friend.
Another season, stay at home,
Keep Winter warmers on,
Until it's time you're free to roam,
When freezing months have gone...
When Springtime comes, you'll sense it's warm,
The clocks advance an hour,
So that your mood will then transform,
As if renewed with power...
The daffodils will blossom soon,
Like beacons far and wide,
Then Summer's heat could make you swoon,
Yet take it in your stride...
When chestnuts ripen on the trees
And fields with crops grow tall,
You'll see God's wonders never cease,
When Autumn comes to call...
Another school year starts, of course,
New uniforms for some,
New regulations to enforce,
As if new rules of thumb...
Consider how the months fly by,
Some hectic, some serene,
Then spare a penny for the guy
Soon after Halloween...
Then poppies bought November time,
Remembrance honoured still,
Recalling some war poet's rhyme,
Just like we always will...
And finally, the Christmas cheer,
God's season when you give,
So take your time, this brand new year...
Take time to love and live...
poem by Denis Martindale
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Inefficient World Food Production Distribution
food waste
one country
say old Italy
800 million tonnes
of fruit picked sold
from fruit trees
750 million tonnes
left to rot
never picked
every year
market price
market fixed
market profit
not worth picking
costs more picking
than sold price paid
what a waste?
millions die wanting
millions die starving
millions die hurting
in an inefficient world?
now it is raining
luxury fruits
cherries peaches
blemish on trees
never sold
never eaten
never saves lives
harvest
process
serves
still in old Italy
20 million tones
spoils to market
more money paid
waste paid collected
paid in dump charges
can we not do better?
Italy is but one country
waste in global community
sickens sweet bull commodity
in an electronic age
can we not do better
reduce waste food
shortage shame deficiencies?
China India hungry markets
2.5 billion people droughts floods
increasing phenomena purchases
on global markets now
are undermining food
global world prices now
world’s poorest farmers
are key to deficit farmers’ food
production improvement
efficiency management is key
rising food demand increases
on a waste finite land planet
time for think
tank
needed solutions?
poem by Terence George Craddock
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To Be Restored!
to think that this is the only time we've lived,
is small minded, and absurd!
we are leaves born by the same tree,
season after season, year after year.
with each summer the branches are fuller,
with each autumn the color deeper....
with each winter the time of stillness cuts deeper...
with each spring the hope of the spirit is reborn!
we are many lives in one,
many forms in one...
the journey is long, the ache is great,
for the eyes of the heart to be restored!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Forget Me Nots
There are tiny little flowers
called Forget me Nots.
Today I shall plant them
in small little pots.
And as I plant and tend to them
I'll think of you sweet mom.
And as they grow in memory
they will keep me calm.
They'll grow in great abundance
with a color of dainty blue.
And every time I look at them
I'll remember you.
And because they are just annuals
I'll plant them new each year
so I can remember the sweetness of you
as if you were right here.
You'll never have to worry
that everything I've got
from you will ever leave me
for you were a forget me not.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Unknown 2
if we're lucky
we're given a warning,
if not
there's the sudden horror,
the wrench of being torn apart.
of being reminded that nothing's permanent,
not even the ones we love,
the ones our lives revolve around.
life's a fragile affair.
we're all standing on the edge of a cliff,
a dizzying cliff so high,
we can't see the bottom.
one by one we lose those we love most,
into the dark ravine.
so we must cherish them without reservation.
now.
today.
this minute.
we'll lose them or they'll lose us someday.
this is certan.
there's no time for arguing.
their loss will leave a great pit in our hearts.
a pit we struggle to avoid during the day and into at night.
some, unable to accept a life without them jump into that pit spiritually or physiaclly; hoping to find them there.
and some survive,
the shock,
the denial,
the bargaining,
the barren empty aching,
the unanswered prayers,
the sleepless nights when their breath is crushed under the weight of silence and all that it means.
some somehow survive all that and, like a flower after a storm, they slowly begin to remember the one they lost in a different way...
the laughter,
the irrepressable spirit,
the generous heart,
the way their smile made them feel,
the encouragement they gave even as their own dreams were dying.
and in time,
they fill the pit with other memories,
the only memories that matter.
we'll still cry.
we'll always cry;
but with loving reflaction
more than hopless longing.
that's how we survive.
that's how the story should end.
that's how they'd want it to be.
poem by Theresa Goertz
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The Heavenly Hills of Holland
The heavenly hills of Holland,--
How wondrously they rise
Above the smooth green pastures
Into the azure skies!
With blue and purple hollows,
With peaks of dazzling snow,
Along the far horizon
The clouds are marching slow.
No mortal foot has trodden
The summits of that range,
Nor walked those mystic valleys
Whose colors ever change;
Yet we possess their beauty,
And visit them in dreams,
While the ruddy gold of sunset
From cliff and canyon gleams.
In days of cloudless weather
They melt into the light;
When fog and mist surround us
They're hidden from our sight;
But when returns a season
Clear shining after rain,
While the northwest wind is blowing,
We see the hills again.
The old Dutch painters loved them,
Their pictures show them clear,
Old Hobbema and Ruysdael,
Van Goyen and Vermeer.
Above the level landscape,
Rich polders, long-armed mills,
Canals and ancient cities,--
Float Holland's heavenly hills.
poem by Henry Van Dyke
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One Year
One year, two hearts have learned to grow
across divides of time and tide,
one year, two hearts have learned to sow
seeds free from weeds, no need to hide.
One year saw challenges well met
with optimistic insight shared,
one year two never will forget,
from oblivion forever spared.
One year, joy norm became to show,
true tenderness which will abide,
one year, where rich affection's flow
formed base for future starry eyed.
One year upon time's wings has let
beginnings blossom into light,
one year where fears, frustrations, fret
dissolved ‘spite distance dynamite.
One year embraced shared dreams below
skies blue, horizons warm and wide,
year's ride beyond blocks, rocks, start slow
accelerated side by side.
One year: each second's silhouette
shines through linked lines inked allegro,
one year discarding pain, regret,
as equals, neither high nor low.
One year, from quest to twinned jest's glow,
from bud to bloom, gloom thrust aside,
one year where two have grown to know
vim, vain objection's override.
One year may many more beget,
revealing gifts love may bestow
in countless ways, as hearts' duet
ignores walls, calls to Maude and Co.
(16 April 2009)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Autumn despair
we say we will
spend some time
for the season
take a walk in
the autumn groove
enjoy the trees
the leaves and
the soft rustle
at our feet
that gently bids
goodbye to another
season of gold and amber
we never let it
dig our heart
to catch a leaf or two
they fall, resigned
to the fact that
we will never
have time
trail the last wind
and listlessly
to the ground
like jilted lovers
soon the snow will
bury them and our wish
to explore the season
Spring will see us
caught up with another year
like fish in a net with the water
just inches away
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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The Warmth Of The Sand (Demo Version)
Relax and stand, in the warmth of the sand
The day is long and here for us to take for granted
And find ourselves to our knees
The water clear, the tender breeze upon our faces
As we bask in our good graces
Yeah, we all are golden here
In summer, in summer
Where night belongs to lust and lovers
In summer, in summer
And I appear to win you over
You will be mine this year (this year, this year, this year)
The sun is set, and the, the moon is high
The night is long and here for you and I to capture
We float ourselves to the gills, with icy drinks that bolster wills
And we are braver for the moment
Yeah, we all are golden here
In summer, in summer
Where all the girls bare olive shoulders
In summer, in summer
And I appear to win you over
You will be mine this year (this year, this year, this year)
The courtyard where the garden stands
Behind the beach at Crystal Sands
We shed our clothes and felt romantic
Tempted by the moon fantastic
Bright and warm and ours alone
Absolve us from the sins we own
And from one year into another
I think of you and I feel summer
In summer, in summer
Where all the girls bare olive shoulders
In summer, in summer
Where all you hope for is another
In summer, in summer
Where night belongs to lust and lovers
In summer, in summer
And I appear to win you over
You will be mine this year
(this year, this year, this year, this year, this year, this year, this year)
song performed by by Dashboard Confessional
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fields Of Gold
Youll remember me when the west wind moves
Upon the fields of barley
Youll forget the sun in his jealous sky
As we walk in the fields of gold
So she took her love
For to gaze awhile
Upon the fields of barley
In his arms she fell as her hair came down
Among the fields of gold
Will you stay with me, will you be my love
Among the fields of barley
Well forget the sun in his jealous sky
As we lie in the fields of gold
See the west wind move like a lover so
Upon the fields of barley
Feel her body rise when you kiss her mouth
Among the fields of gold
I never made promises lightly
And there have been some that Ive broken
But I swear in the days still left
Well walk in the fields of gold
Well walk in the fields of gold
Many years have passed since those summer days
Among the fields of barley
See the children run as the sun goes down
Among the fields of gold
Youll remember me when the west wind moves
Upon the fields of barley
You can tell the sun in his jealous sky
When we walked in the fields of gold
When we walked in the fields of gold
When we walked in the fields of gold
song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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