Yes
Meanwhile I have been:
cutting back brambles
where they clutch at the passing skin;
watching a golden sun
failing to find a cloud to hide within;
seeing your face
forgetting to be tired
and shining out across the decades
then hesitating,
(a tight-rope walker above Niagara):
walking in the Druids’ Grove
among ancient oaks in the cool of the day;
sitting in the French Gardens
as evening fades into mothlight
and the magnolia shines
and the last of the visitors
has long since gone.
Yes.
I have been
I am.
poem by Brian Taylor
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Related quotes
Magnolia Simms
By michael nesmith
Love to me is blue-eyed and blonde.
Oh, thats sweet magnolia.
Apple pie on the window still warm.
Thats my sweet magnolia
Walking under a sky thats so blue
After rain has fallen.
When shes walking so close by my side
My troubles seem to just run and hide.
[la-dee, da-dum, etc.]
Well, walking under a sky thats so blue
After rain has fallen.
When shes walking so close by my side
My troubles seem to just run and hide.
Magnolia simms is my little doll.
I cant live without her.
For if she goes my world will just fall.
Stay with me, magnolia.
[sound of record skipping]
Stay with me, magnolia.
song performed by by Monkees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ageless Beauty for M lady Ernestine
True beauty lies beneath the skin.
It’s not something for surface show.
A quality which lies within
but others can bask in its glow.
Some beauty fades as years pass by.
No matter how hard you may fight
to hide the signs you can’t deny
True beauty shines through ever bright.
True beauty is not visible
but rather something which you feel.
Something which makes you comfortable
the passing years can never steal.
True beauty thinks of others first
and offers love without reserve.
As a cool drink will quench our thirst
it gives us more than we deserve.
True beauty is a quality
which lasts until the day you die.
A precious gift that’s given free
which no amount of cash can buy.
Beauty is skin deep so they say.
Of mere good looks that is quite true.
Youthful prettiness fades away
but inner beauty still shines through.
23-Jun-08
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Nostalgia
The heat is unusual even the olive grove
looks tired, old trees gasping waiting for
sundown. Yet the evening is still hot and
no breeze soothes tired leaves.
Every august I tell myself that next year
I´ll go to Norway to cool down. But what
I´m going to do there, it will be raining and
I never had an umbrella.
In my old home town I will be walking up
and down streets trying to catch the old
magic, that perhaps wasn´t there in
the first place, there were moments when
on Sunday forenoon, I used to walk to my
aunt´s house, we smoked cigarettes, drank
coffee and ate coco macrons.
On my walks I will only see young faces of
a new generation who has not in common
with me, and it will sadden me to see old
building torn down and replaced with new
shining office edifices ….And I will take
the first plane back to Portugal where my
elderliness is not a handicap.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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A Time At The Beach
Why not long walks on the beach
Whispering sweet nothings to each
Walking bare foot in the sand
Walking together hand in hand
Watching the waves come crashing in
Feeling the dampness on my skin
Feeling the gentle breeze on my face
One of god's beauties, what a wonderful place
Looking up towards all the stars
On this magic night, this will be all ours
Love the ocean once in a while
Forgetting your problems and making you smile!
poem by Donna Nimmo
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Blondin Walking The Tightrope
Everyman is Blondin,
Every lifetime a rope,
finer than a spider's thread,
sharper than a sword,
stretched between birth and death
(breath and breath)
across Niagara.
(Charles Blondin, a French acrobat, was the first man ever to cross Niagara Falls by tightrope in 1859.)
poem by Brian Taylor
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Summer Is Here
I hear the sounds of children at play,
as the sun has turned
the black clouds of rain away.
Summer is here
and laughter fills the air,
flowers fill the gardens
with colour everywhere.
After a hard days work
you feel free,
some will sit the evening out
eyes glued to the TV.
Not for me the little box,
rather an evening stroll.
Then sit to rest
my weary bones somewhere,
letting the cool evening breeze
dance with my hair.
As I sit quietly
absorbing all around.
Watching the sun
sink slowly in the west.
Breathing in the cool evening air,
as night begins to call.
11 June 2007
poem by David Harris
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Our last Swim (R.I.P. Anne Mary Simon)
Our last Swim
By Renee’
For my beloved Anne Mary Simon
An Image of you in a cloud rolls by
The sky opens up, somewhere in my mind
A vision of you in a pale blue dress
Tears falling down, you took my breath
Memories of you...
Rain will always hide these tears in my eyes
When the thunder laughs my soul will die
Will I hear your voice?
Will I touch your skin?
Will the ocean waves let me in?
The time is near, the time is nigh
To answer the call, to answer the cry
My head still spins, my body aches
The wind stings my eyes, my face
I look around, no one’s there
Will anybody notice, will anyone care...
Rain will always hide these tears in my eyes
When the thunder laughs my soul will die
Will I hear your voice?
Will I touch your skin?
Will the ocean waves let me in?
I sit on this beach, your beach
I see the waves roll in endlessly
I hold you tight against my bosom
Tears fill my eyes as I see you running into the ocean
You are laughing and so happy
Memories of you...
Rain will always hide these tears in my eyes
When the thunder laughs my soul will die
Will I hear your voice?
Will I touch your skin?
Will the ocean waves let me in?
It’s time to take our final swim
My eyes fill with tears
I can’t move, but I must
You are waiting for me
My legs ache, my body is frozen
You are calling me, “come swim Renee’ “
Memories of you…
Rain will always hide these tears in my eyes
When the thunder laughs my soul will die
Will I hear your voice?
Will I touch your skin?
Will the ocean waves let me in?
I feel the warm ocean lapping at my feet
I slowly walk deeper, and deeper
Still holding you so tight
“Please don’t leave me! ”
I desperately cry
Stay with me a while longer
Don’t leave me yet
I am holding you so tight
Rain will always hide these tears in my eyes
When the thunder laughs my soul will die
Will I hear your voice?
Will I touch your skin?
Will the ocean waves let me in?
I feel you touch my face
I feel your loving embrace
I see your warm smile
“Please Anne, stay a while”
I see the last glitter of your eyes
Rain will always hide these tears in my eyes
When the thunder laughs my soul will die
Will I hear your voice?
Will I touch your skin?
Will the ocean waves let me in?
Opening the urn, I see you leap and dive
I see you swimming around me
Why are you so pale and grey?
Then the reality strikes deep into my heart
This is our last swim together
Rain will always hide these tears in my eyes
When the thunder laughs my soul will die
Will I hear your voice?
Will I touch your skin?
Will the ocean waves let me in?
Why are you smiling?
Why are so happy?
Why do you want to leave me so quickly?
Why? Why? Why?
Rain will always hide these tears in my eyes
When the thunder laughs my soul will die
Will I hear your voice?
Will I touch your skin?
Will the ocean waves let me in?
Walking from the water
I turn to look for you
I catch a glimpse of you
You look so happy my love
Then my heart skips a beat
I see you wave then turn away
Swimming and having fun
Memories of you…
Rain will always hide these tears in my eyes
When the thunder laughs my soul will die
Will I hear your voice?
Will I touch your skin?
Will the ocean waves let me in?
Sitting on the beach
Watching the ocean
Knowing that you’ll always be happy now
I will visit you soon my beloved Anne
Soon we’ll swim together again
Rest in Peace my sweet love
Rest in Peace
poem by Renee' Stretch
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The Rope
(stephanie davis)
In waters calm I sailed from shore
To see what I might see
And having never sailed before
I drifted aimlessly
A warm breeze rocked my boat until
In slumber I fell sound
But woke to find the light grown dim
And dark clouds gathering round
In haste I worked at turning back
But now the wind blew wrong
And when the night came cold and black
My strength was almost gone
But with one last small thread of hope
I bowed my head to pray
Then through the dark I saw a rope
And heard a calm voice say
Grab the rope
Hold it tight
In the distance
Shines a light
Neither fear
Nor feel alone
There is one
Wholl lead you home
I heard my heart beat loud and fast
But did as I was told
And with the rosey dawn at last
Dry land I did behold
I kissed the sandy banks and swore
My sailing days were through
But should I ever stray from shore
I know now what to do
Grab the rope
Hold it tight
In the distance
Shines a light
Neither fear
Nor feel alone
There is one
Wholl lead you home
Grab the rope
Hold it tight
In the distance
Shines a light
Neither fear
Nor feel alone
There is one
Wholl lead you home
song performed by by Martina Mcbride
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Skip Away
I was walking, talking today
And a little girl came skipping my way
Reciting some silly nonsense song
Wasn't long before she was gone
' skip a rope '
A good friend in the middle of the night
rang up involved in her plight
On her behalf could I say a few words
Why of course and now they are heard
' skip a rope '
Then when the Sun comes out to play
We all perk up and listen to her say
Then we all smile from deeply inside
And from within the Sunshine can't hide
' skip a rope '
And with sadness you have to go
Across the ocean so far it's so
But when you land you extend your hand
from there to here and back again
' skip a rope '
poem by Midnights Voice
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Evening arrives
Sun
Tired of shining
Throughout
The day
Decides to hide
Behind
The mountains
Far away
Tells the birds
To go back
To the nests
Invites the moon
To rule the night
Stars
Twinkling with him
Heat and light
Decreases
After a long day
Evening arrives
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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Incidents in the life of my Uncle Arly
O my aged Uncle Arly!
Sitting on a heap of Barley
Thro' the silent hours of night,
Close beside a leafy thicket:
On his nose there was a Cricket,
In his hat a Railway-ticket
(But his shoes were far too tight).
Long ago, in youth, he squander'd
All his goods away, and wander'd
To the Tinskoop-hills afar.
There on golden sunsets blazing,
Every evening found him gazing,
Singing, 'Orb! you're quite amazing!
How I wonder what you are!'
Like the ancient Medes and Persians,
Always by his own exertions
He subsisted on those hills;
Whiles, by teaching children spelling,
Or at times by merely yelling,
Or at intervals by selling
'Propter's Nicodemus Pills.'
Later, in his morning rambles
He perceived the moving brambles
Something square and white disclose;
'Twas a First-class Railway-Ticket;
But, on stooping down to pick it
Off the ground - a pea-green Cricket
Settled on my uncle's Nose.
Never - never more - oh, never,
Did that Cricket leave him ever,
Dawn or evening, day or night;
Clinging as a constant treasure,
Chirping with a cheerious measure,
Wholly to my uncle's pleasure
(Though his shoes were far too tight).
So for three and forty winters,
Till his shoes were worn to splinters,
All those hills he wander'd o'er,
Sometimes silent; sometimes yelling;
Till he came to Borley-Melling,
Near his old ancestral dwelling
(But his shoes were far too tight).
On a little heap of Barley
Died my aged Uncle Arly,
And they buried him one night;
Close beside the leafy thicket;
There - his hat and Railway-Ticket;
There - his ever-faithful Cricket
(But his shoes were far too tight).
poem by Edward Lear
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When Daylight Goes To Town
I remember you when you was me
oh what a beautiful sight
you'd cool it up
or you'd cool it down
from some dizzy, dizzy height
I can still hear that rolling sound
like a diesel in my head
sometimes I wake and I think of you now
forgetting that you're dead
I was born on a rolling train
Runnin' when I hit the ground
I watch these wheels turning now
nothing here, nothing left
watching the daylight fade away
watching the daylight go to town
Well
This hotel rooms like the wild, wild west
and there's strangers moving underground
I still have your photograph
it picks me up when I'm feeling down
Pull up a chair and you pour me one
let's kick back and let it roll
There's nothing here
and there's nothing left
but watching the daylight go to town
We'd get swept up on a pillow fight
you just couldn't let it go
I watch these wheels turning now
nothing here, nothing left
watching the daylight fade away
watching the daylight go to town
Don't you fade away
solo
Well I guess I'm walking right back home
got to set this all down
pull up a chair and you pour me two
cos there's nothing here,nothing left
but watching the daylight turn around
watching the daylight go to town
watching this world spin around
watching the daylight go to town
song performed by by Ufo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There Is No Stopping
a bud
blooms
a car
crashes
hairs grow
and fall
got wrinkles
and forgetting
watching the beautiful sunset
not with sad eyes
sitting on the sand
and feeling the fineness of the world
plunging into the sea
and holding the breath
rising and walking back
and laying down
without you.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Poetry Of Smell
a smell, your smell,
that perfume that sticks
to my skin,
your sweat, that wetness
between us,
dry before us, desert sand,
nothing to talk about oasis,
camels in a caravan
under the stars one evening,
you are my tent,
i live there, but you are not
there, there is this blankness
that i face within me,
there is this trail that smells
like you, i follow,
and then i stop, it is not us
there, there is no us,
there is the star that shines
one evening
it does not last,
but every evening it comes
back to me,
too near, in my mind,
too far, in reality.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Flower To Auroville Mother-57
Campbell's Magnolia(Magnolia campbelli)
Dwarf Magnolia(Cempaka Telur, Magnolia coco)
Temple Magnolia(Magnolia doltsopa)
Banana Shrub(Magnolia figo)
Magnolia(Southern magnolia, Magnolia grandiflora)
Egg Magnolia(Magnolia liliifera)
Lily Magnolia(Magnolia lilliflora)
Saucer Magnolia(Magnolia x soulangiana)
Disparity is not His intention
For creation all beauty adorned
Painting different here and there
Passion for His colourful creation
So is Magnolia big and florescent
Champak white and yellow hale here
Cream and pink there purplish pale
Leaves large elliptic, oblong, obovate
Born are big in blossoms dignified
For His praises glorious colourful
Born are dwarf fragrant strong high
For His praises vast wide in demand
So not atall disparity His intention
Even Temple Magnolia can ascertain
On par all Himalayan with the southern
Magnolias pretty beauty for His creation
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Flowers In The Rain
Woke up one morning half asleep
With all my blankets in a heap
And yellow roses gathered all around me;
The time was still approaching four
I couldnt stand it anymore
Saw marigolds upon my eider down.
Im just sitting watching flowers in the rain
Feel the power of the rain making the garden grow,
Im just sitting watching flowers in the rain
Feel the power of the rain keeping me cool.
So I lay upon my side with all the windows opened wide
Couldnt pressurize my head from speaking
Hoping not to make a sound I pushed my bed into the grounds
In time to catch the sight that I was seeking.
Im just sitting watching flowers in the rain
Feel the power of the rain making the garden grow,
Im just sitting watching flowers in the rain
Feel the power of the rain keeping me cool.
If this perfect pleasure has the key
Then this is how it has to be
If my pillows getting wet
I dont see that it matters much to me.
I heard the flowers in the breeze make conversation with the trees
Believed to leave reality behind me
With my commitments in a mess my sleep has gone away depressed
In a world of fantasy youll find me.
Im just sitting watching flowers in the rain
Feel the power of the rain making the garden grow,
Im just sitting watching flowers in the rain
Feel the power of the rain keeping me cool.
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tight A$
Well just as tight a$ you can make it
Hard and slow aint hard enough
Just as tight a$ you can shake it girl
Git it on and do your stuff
Tight a$ you can get it
Tight a$ got it made
Uptights alright but if you cant stand the heat
You better get back in the shade
Well just as tight a$ an indian rope trick
Long and tough aint hard enough
Just as tight a$ a dope fiends fix my friend
Git it up and do your stuff
Tight a$ you can boogie
Tight a$ got it laid
Uptights alright but if you cant stand the heat
You better get back in the shade
Well tight a$ you can make it
Hard and slow aint hard enough
Just as tight a$ you can shake it girl
Git it on and do your stuff
Tight a$ you can get it
Tight a$ got it made
Uptights alright but if you cant stand the heat
You better get back in the shade
Well tight a$ an indian rope trick
Hard and long aint hard enough
Just as tight a$ a dope fiends fix my friend
Git it up and do your stuff
Tight a$ you can boogie
Tight a$ got it laid
Uptights alright but if you cant stand the heat
You better get back in the shade
Well tight a$ got me cornered
Tight a$ got me laid
Tight a$ strut your stuff so tough
Just a sitting in the midnight shade
Tight a$ she can boogie
Tight a$ she got laid
Uptights alright but if you cant stand the heat
You better get back in the shade
song performed by by Lennon John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lineson Thorold
McCready the great Irish Tragedian said, the view from Thorold
was the finest in America.
Thorold is famous for its mills,
And the grand view from off its hills-
A view so charming and extended,
Natures beauties sweetly blended.
Poetic thoughts it doth awake
To view Ontario's broad Lake,
And husbandmen have their reward in
Fruits of this provincial garden.
For from the hill you see below
Gardens, where choice fruits do grow,
The landscape all within your reach
Doth both produce the grape and peach.
McCready said, in the New World
The finest view was from Thorold.
You see St. Catharine's charming town
And steamers sailing up and down.
And you can see, on a clear day,
All along Toronto Bay;
And you clearly see the haze
Where Niagara doth amaze.
And glance where Grimsby's gardens yield,
Or view Beamsvill's fruitful field ;
Then this thought yon can advance,
This is Canada's sunny France.
You see Niagara's ancient town *
Though,it has lost its old renown ;
And you have a splendid view
Of boats on old canal and new.
* Niagara, once the capital and business centre of Upper Canada, and also
an important fortress. It is located at the mouth of the Niagara river.
poem by James McIntyre
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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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Niagara
I
Within the town of Buffalo
Are prosy men with leaden eyes.
Like ants they worry to and fro,
(Important men, in Buffalo.)
But only twenty miles away
A deathless glory is at play:
Niagara, Niagara.
The women buy their lace and cry: —
"O such a delicate design,"
And over ostrich feathers sigh,
By counters there, in Buffalo.
The children haunt the trinket shops,
They buy false-faces, bells, and tops,
Forgetting great Niagara.
Within the town of Buffalo
Are stores with garnets, sapphires, pearls,
Rubies, emeralds aglow, —
Opal chains in Buffalo,
Cherished symbols of success.
They value not your rainbow dress: —
Niagara, Niagara.
The shaggy meaning of her name
This Buffalo, this recreant town,
Sharps and lawyers prune and tame:
Few pioneers in Buffalo;
Except young lovers flushed and fleet
And winds hallooing down the street:
"Niagara, Niagara."
The journalists are sick of ink:
Boy prodigals are lost in wine,
By night where white and red lights blink,
The eyes of Death, in Buffalo.
And only twenty miles away
Are starlit rocks and healing spray: —
Niagara, Niagara.
Above the town a tiny bird,
A shining speck at sleepy dawn,
Forgets the ant-hill so absurd,
This self-important Buffalo.
Descending twenty miles away
He bathes his wings at break of day —
Niagara, Niagara.
II
What marching men of Buffalo
Flood the streets in rash crusade?
Fools-to-free-the-world, they go,
Primeval hearts from Buffalo.
Red cataracts of France today
Awake, three thousand miles away
An echo of Niagara,
The cataract Niagara.
poem by Vachel Lindsay
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