Summer
Winter is cold-hearted
Spring is yea and nay,
Autumn is a weather-cock
Blown every way:
Summer days for me
When every leaf is on its tree;
When Robin's not a beggar,
And Jenny Wren's a bride,
And larks hang singing, singing, singing,
Over the wheat-fields wide,
And anchored lilies ride,
And the pendulum spider
Swings from side to side,
And blue-black beetles transact business,
And gnats fly in a host,
And furry caterpillars hasten
That no time be lost,
And moths grow fat and thrive,
And ladybirds arrive.
Before green apples blush,
Before green nuts embrown,
Why, one day in the country
Is worth a month in town;
Is worth a day and a year
Of the dusty, musty, lag-last fashion
That days drone elsewhere.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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Two Weeks Into September
Two weeks into September the leaves begin to brown
In the groves and in the Town Park of in and near Millstreet Town
And soon the redwing thrushes in the old fields will be seen
When the gray frost of the cold morning does temporarily cloak the green,
Two weeks into September by the mountains far away
Few singing birds at daybreak do sing to greet the day
Yet in my flights of fancy i hear the jackdaws call
And i hear the robin singing in the cool days of the Fall
With a tongue that can't stop babbling every night and every day
The old stream from the mountains to the river winds it's way
And on a rock in the river around where the rapid waters flow
The dark brown dipper is singing the one with breast as white as snow
And on the second week of September by the mountains far north of here
The shortening days are getting cooler in the Autumn of the 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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I'm a singing rainbow
When my eyes are blue
I’m a sky-spelled beam of Heaven
Singing icons of beauty
Brown
I’m an autumn singing
Falls of leaves to the ground
Yellow
I’m millions of suns
Singing rays of warmth
Green
I’m a throbbing rainforest
Singing fibers of creation
Violet
I’m a tiny flower singing
Strength of growth
Rad
I’m a blood-spelled shade of Light
Singing peace of darkness
When my eyes are empty
I’m a singing rainbow
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Robin Redbreast
Good-bye, good-bye to Summer!
For Summer's nearly done;
The garden smiling faintly,
Cool breezes in the sun;
Our Thrushes now are silent,
Our Swallows flown away, --
But Robin's here, in coat of brown,
With ruddy breast-knot gay.
Robin, Robin Redbreast,
O Robin dear!
Robin singing sweetly
In the falling of the year.
Bright yellow, red, and orange,
The leaves come down in hosts;
The trees are Indian Princes,
But soon they'll turn to Ghosts;
The scanty pears and apples
Hang russet on the bough,
It's Autumn, Autumn, Autumn late,
'Twill soon be Winter now.
Robin, Robin Redbreast,
O Robin dear!
And welaway! my Robin,
For pinching times are near.
The fireside for the Cricket,
The wheatstack for the Mouse,
When trembling night-winds whistle
And moan all round the house;
The frosty ways like iron,
The branches plumed with snow, --
Alas! in Winter, dead and dark,
Where can poor Robin go?
Robin, Robin Redbreast,
O Robin dear!
And a crumb of bread for Robin,
His little heart to cheer.
poem by William Allingham
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The Promise Of Spring
JUST a whisper, half-heard,
But our heart knows the word;
Caresses that seem
Like love's lips in a dream;
Yet we know she is here,
The desirèd, the dear,
The love of the year!
In the murmur of boughs,
In the softening of skies,
In the sun on the house,
In the daffodil's green
(Half an inch, half-unseen
Mid the mournful brown mould
Where the rotten leaf lies)
Her story is told.
O Spring, darling Spring,
O sweet days of blue weather
The thrushes shall sing,
Fields shall grow green again,
Daisies be seen again,
Hedges grow white;
Then down the lane,
Grown leafy again,
Shall go lovers together--
Lovers who see again
Sunshine and showers,
Perfume and flowers,
Dewy dear hours,
Dream and delight.
Warm shall nests be again,
Winter's behind us;
Springtime shall find us,
Taking our hands,
Lead us away from the cold and the snow,
Into the green world where primroses grow.
Winter, hard winter, forgotten, forgiven;
All the old pain paid, to seventy times seven,
All the new glory a-glow.
Love, when Spring calls, will you still turn away?
Winter has wooed you in vain, and shall May?
Love, when Spring calls, will you go?
poem by Edith Nesbit
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You Can't Have Everything
The Queensland sun shines early in the morning
And keeps on burning hotter through the day
And though the Parklands watered by the sprinklers
Through the pale green patches of brown through gray.
But I know of a Land of natural greeness
Where Spring doesn't often come till early May
Though birds from early April on nest building
In that green Country half a World away.
I close my eyes I hear the dipper singing
And wild flowers bloom along the mountain stream
And chaffinch pipes his happy notes to April
And grass is growing and fields look lush and green.
Here in the Gold Coast in deep south of Queensland
The lorikeets and noisy miners sing
They have only known the warmth of the sub tropics
Where Winter's warmer than the northern Spring.
In distant Land above the bracken mountain
The lark is piping in the morning sky
Till lost to view he soars towards gathering rain clouds
And singing ever singing as he fly.
In South Queensland the rain is always welcome
And sun shine all year round and wild birds sing
But I know of a Country green and wetter
Which goes to prove you can't have everything.
poem by Francis Duggan
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An Answer
If all the year was summer-time,
And all the aim of life
Was just to lilt on like a rhyme –
Then I would be your wife.
If all the days were August days,
And crowned with golden weather,
How happy then through green-clad ways
We two could stray together!
If all the nights were moonlit nights,
And we had naught to do
But just to sit and plan delights,
Then I would be with you.
If life was all a summer fete,
Its soberest pace the “glide, ”
Then I would choose you for my mate,
And keep you at my side.
But winter makes full half the year,
And labour half of life,
And all the laughter and good cheer
Gives place to wearing strife.
Days will grow cold, and moons wax old,
And then a heart that’s true
Is better far than grace or gold –
And so, my love, adieu!
I cannot wed with you.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Autumn Leaves
From green to yellow
Singing tunes so mellow
They're falling down the ground
Spreading music around.
They' ve relished the Summer days
Hosting hot sun rays
Witnessing melodies at night
Dwelling in everyone's heart.
They' ll be scattered around
By the Autumn winds blown
But their trees stand still
Until the next year's blossoming will.
Nov.2011
poem by Maria C. Costa
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Looking, Watching, Waiting
It's Winter now,
And everything is cold and bare.
Used to be lush and green,
Covered in leaves.
The snow is melting.
It's getting warmer.
Spring is on it's way.
Now Spring has come
The snow has all melted,
And the trees are getting more leaves.
It's warm now,
And i can't wait for Summer to arrive.
Summer is finally here!
I go outside and run barefoot through the streets.
Windows are open and the birds are singing.
Summer is finally here!
Now Summer is gone, and Fall is in the air.
Soon it will get colder,
And i will once again be looking, watching, waiting,
For Summer's arrival.
poem by Vi Lanflagle
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Pale September
Pale september, I wore the time like a dress that year
The autumn days swung soft around me, like cotton on my skin
But as the embers of the summer lost their breath and disappeared
My heart went cold and only hollow rhythms resounded from within
But then he rose, brilliant as the moon in full
And sank in the burrows of my keep
And all my armour falling down, in a pile at my feet
And my winter giving way to warm, as Im singing him to sleep
He goes along just as a water lily
Gentle on the surface of his thoughts his body floats
Unweighted down by passion or intensity
Yet unaware of the depth upon which he coasts
And he finds a home in me
For what misfortune sows, he knows my touch will reap
And all my armour failing down, in a pile at my feet
And my winter giving way to warm, as Im singing him to sleep
All my armour falling down, in a pile at my feet
And my winter giving way to warm, as Im singing him to sleep
song performed by by Fiona Apple
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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It Is Spring Now In The Northlands
It is Spring now in the Northlands the Northlands far away
And the hawthorns are heavily laden in their white blooms of the May
And the hooded crow is cawing in his cloak of black and gray
And the white breasted dipper singing in the river all the day.
It is Spring now in the Northlands and cock robin all day long
On the trees around his borders sings his territorial song
And the stream from the foothills by the hedgerows babbling down
On it's journey to the river through the old fields by the town.
It is Spring now in the Northlands a delightful time of year
And the voice of the migrant cuckoo is a pleasant thing to hear
When one has the whims of fancy 'tis not hard to visualize
The songs of Nature's feathered minstrels at daybreak before sunrise.
It is Spring now in the Northlands and the fields are looking green
Where the wildering flowers of Nature in abundance can be seen
And primroses, snowdrops and bluebells bloom on ditch of the bohreen
When one talks of Nature's Seasons Spring is surely beauty queen.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Bellbirds Are Singing
In the high woods of South Belgrave from here far away
The bellbirds are singing in Birdsland today
Like many tiny bells their pleasant ringing sound
Echo in the woodland on the higher ground.
The bellbirds or bell miners sparrow sized and green
Are easier to hear than they are to be seen
But their constant calls of their whereabouts tell
Though with their surroundings they seem to blend well.
The songs of the bellbirds so bell like and clear
In the high wood at Birdsland so pleasant to hear
Yet some who know of Nature have been known to say
That bellbirds they live where there is tree decay.
The early days of August a month from the Spring
And the songs of the bellbirds through the gum woodland ring
In warm sunny weather and in weather cold, wet, windy and severe
The bellbirds they sing the twelve months of the year.
In the high wood at Birdsland from here far away
The bellbirds are singing on this August day
The magpies are fluting in the cool of daybreak
And the songs of the bellbirds one cannot mistake.
poem by Francis Duggan
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On Autumns Earth
This is the beginning
Now carry me away
On to the faraway new day
That now is born to play
Yes this is the beginning
Moments dreamed and found
Everything in its singing
That comes again around
Flowers on autumn´s earth
Reaching their own goal
Times of days and worth
Each their together role
Flowers on autumn´s earth
Reaching their own goal
Times of days and worth
Each their together role
On autumn´s earth
Yesterdays were all turning
In their beat´s echo heart
Forever in lay and burning
Poles and miles apart
Flames of their color giving
All that came from within
Days their dreams own living
As worlds take their spin
Flowers on autumn´s earth
Reaching their own goal
Times of days and worth
Each their together role
Flowers on autumn´s earth
Reaching their own goal
Times of days and worth
Each their together role
On autumn´s earth
Swept away in their call
Dreams that were carried on
Love songs of colors fall
Until their moments are gone
You and I had our calling
Dreams that were not to be
Now like autumn earth's falling
All that we had is now free
Flowers on autumn´s earth
Reaching their own goal
Times of days and worth
Each their together role
Flowers on autumn´s earth
Reaching their own goal
Times of days and worth
Each their together role
On autumn´s earth
Flowers on autumn´s earth
Reaching their own goal
On autumn´s earth
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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On Autumn´s Earth
This is the beginning
Now carry me away
On to the faraway new day
That now is born to play
Yes this is the beginning
Moments dreamed and found
Everything in its singing
That comes again around
Flowers on autumn´s earth
Reaching their own goal
Times of days and worth
Each their together role
Flowers on autumn´s earth
Reaching their own goal
Times of days and worth
Each their together role
On autumn´s earth
Yesterdays were all turning
In their beat´s echo heart
Forever in lay and burning
Poles and miles apart
Flames of their color giving
All that came from within
Days their dreams own living
As worlds take their spin
Flowers on autumn´s earth
Reaching their own goal
Times of days and worth
Each their together role
Flowers on autumn´s earth
Reaching their own goal
Times of days and worth
Each their together role
On autumn´s earth
Swept away in their call
Dreams that were carried on
Love songs of colors fall
Until their moments are gone
You and I had our calling
Dreams that were not to be
Now like autumn earth's falling
All that we had is now free
Flowers on autumn´s earth
Reaching their own goal
Times of days and worth
Each their together role
Flowers on autumn´s earth
Reaching their own goal
Times of days and worth
Each their together role
On autumn´s earth
Flowers on autumn´s earth
Reaching their own goal
On autumn´s earth
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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It Is Such A Beautiful Evening
Than Spring it is far more like Summer a summery warmth in the breeze
And sunshine on the old Town and Parkland and sunshine on the bushes and trees
The greeness of Spring all around me such beauty that cannot fail to please
The weather quite warm for September well over the twenty degrees.
Though early Spring few birds are singing in the warm sun of the day
They sing in the cool of the morning or in the twilight's fading gray
The Winter is finally over though Winter weather was far from severe
We may be due for an el nino a warm Spring is looming this year.
The heaths and prickly bushes are covered in their blue, pink and bright yellow flowers
They came to bloom in the late Winter in the cool and invigorating showers
The pardalotes by their nest entrance in a tiny hole in the ground
Wee wren sized birds spotted and pretty where they live small insects abound.
It is such a beautiful evening the swallows they chirp as they fly
And the sun with the warmth of Summer is glowing brightly in the blue sky
And the first brown butterflies of September are flitting in the balmy air
Alone and contented with Nature such moments are precious and rare.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Custers Blues
Well you look just like general custer
On the day of his last stand
Heading up into the black hills
Glorious and grand
I saw it by your side
A map in your hand
Heading up into the rain
Singing this land is your land
Now Ive seen your dust a-rising
And Ive seen your numbers swell
Ive seen you crossing the badlands
And Ive heard your captains yell
Ive watched you when youre sleeping
Ive seen you filling up your can
Thinking as you work
That this land is your land
But now youre bursting into my country
Youre messing up my fields
Youre playing games with my holy places
Youre tearing the earth with your wheels
Right now your star is ascending
And your head is bursting with pride
But I wonder if custer was still singing
this land is my land when he died
Was he still singing this is my land when he died
Was he singing that its my land when he died
Was he singing when he died
Was he singing when he died
Was he singing its my land when he died
When he died...
Was he singing when he died
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Christmas Green Tree
All the trees shed their leaves
Stood under black dress
Everywhere white snows
Except Christmas green tree
Children played in the valley
Making Ice balls and stick
The black tree doesn`t open eye
Except Christmas green tree
Little stars glimpses on
With the trees waving head
Singing Carol on the way
Jingle bell and Santa Claus
The Only tree is stood in green
Horrible winter coolly days
Blessing infent`s Holy birth
Enjoy happy Praise the Lord...
poem by Vinod Kumar
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Adrian Henri’s Talking After Christmas Blues
Well I woke up this mornin' it was Christmas Day
And the birds were singing the night away
I saw my stocking lying on the chair
Looked right to the bottom but you weren't there
there was
apples
oranges
chocolates
. .. . aftershave
but no you.
So I went downstairs and the dinner was fine
There was pudding and turkey and lots of wine
And I pulled those crackers with a laughing face
Till I saw there was no one in your place
there was
mincepies
brandy
nuts and raisins
. . . mashed potato
but no you.
Now it's New Year and it's Auld Lang Syne
And it's 1 2 o'clock and I'm feeling fine
Should Auld Acquaintance be Forgot?
I don't know girl, but it hurts a lot
there was
whisky
vodka dry Martini (stirred
but not shaken)
.... and 12 New Year resolutions
all of them about you.
So it's all the best for the year ahead
As I stagger upstairs and into bed
Then I looked at the pillow by my side
. . .I tell you baby I almost cried
there'll be
Autumn
Summer
Spring
. . . . and Winter
all of them without you.
poem by Adrian Henri
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It's Cold For May
it's cold for May and weather most severe
And swallow yet to return home this year
And still no trace or sound of bird cuckoo
And to hear him now would be like dream come true.
And trees and hedgerows not yet in full leaf
And Winter rob Spring like cruel hearted thief
And rain since morn and wind blow all day long
And lonely robin pipes a lonely song.
And worried farmer under cloud of woe,
His livestock hunger and the grass don't grow
And from fodder purchase last year's profits gone
And times are hard and hard to carry on.
I think of balmy days and Springs gone by
When sun shone brightly in a cloudless sky
And blissful skylark all day on the wing
At heaven's gate to angels songs did sing.
What's happened with the weather anyway?
Seems more like January than the month of May
And wintery conditions still prevail
And few birds sing now in the windswept vale.
But feelings of hopelessness and despair
Don't ever seem to get one anywhere
And in god's good time the weather will come fine
And grass will grow and the sun will brightly shine.
poem by Francis Duggan
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