Eventail
Lovely Semiramis
Closes her slanting eyes:
Dead is she long ago,
From her fan sliding slow
Parrot-bright fire's feathers
Gilded as June weathers,
Plumes like the greenest grass
Twinkle down; as they pass
Through the green glooms in Hell,
Fruits with a tuneful smell--
Grapes like an emerald rain
Where the full moon has lain,
Greengages bright as grass,
Melons as cold as glass
Piled on each gilded booth
Feel their cheeks growing smooth;
Apes in plumed head-dresses
Whence the bright heat hisses,
Nubian faces sly,
Pursing mouth, slanting eye,
Feel the Arabian
Winds floating from that fan:
See how each gilded face
Paler grows, nods apace:
'Oh, the fan's blowing
Cold winds.... It is snowing!'
poem by Dame Edith Louisa Sitwell
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Related quotes
The Fan
LOVELY Semiramis
Closes her slanting eyes:
Dead is she long ago.
From her fan, sliding slow,
Parrot-bright fire's feathers,
Gilded as June weathers,
Plumes bright and shrill as grass
Twinkle down; as they pass
Through the green glooms in Hell
Fruits with a tuneful smell,
Grapes like an emerald rain,
Where the full moon has lain,
Greengages bright as grass,
Melons as cold as glass,
Piled on each gilded booth,
Feel their cheeks growing smooth.
Apes in plumed head-dresses
Whence the bright heat hisses,--
Nubian faces, sly
Pursing mouth, slanting eye,
Feel the Arabian
Winds floating from the fan.
poem by Dame Edith Louisa Sitwell
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In some fields of grass under the hills (sestina)
This afternoon the peaks throw a big shade
with the black cliffs shining up on the hills,
while we lay together in the long grass,
I look in your eyes that are amber-green
while under my head there is a small stone
and you smile at me like the prettiest lady.
I had once known another charming lady;
that part of my life is now left in shade,
bad churchmen were casting stone upon stone,
while I had to flee from them to the hills
to pastures were everything is green
to find the Lord in divine fields of grass.
Under your head there is a crown of grass
and your mother is a gracious, kind lady,
around us everything is lovely green
while we are still resting in the cool shade,
we are softly chatting about life’s hills,
about walls of very hard granite stone.
Your eyes are much brighter than emerald stone
while all of your words are softer than grass,
reaching higher and beyond all the hills,
the high mountain which is dangerous lady,
while from our pain nothing gives any shade,
nowhere is a place of rest that is green.
Your summer dress is lovely, is bright green,
suddenly all our ails have turned to stone
I follow you further; see your small shade,
I am seen as one that woos any lady,
we walk past some flowers growing in grass,
climbing up higher into the foothills.
Bright streams are splashing down some of the hills,
with water transparent, sometimes cold and green,
love and lust burns like in a youthful lady
while I at that moment feel cold as stone,
we notice a deer feeding on lone grass
while our garments lie under a tree’s shade.
Far into the hills you want love till dusk’s shade,
where you peep like some green moss from the grass,
are tossing me with a stone like no lady.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Age Makes The Difference
There comes a cold wind blowing on my face
and my cheeks are ruddy red.
It is a cold wind blowing on my face
and my toes feel like they're dead.
But I could stay outside all day
and never think about cold.
For that's exactly how you feel
when you're nine years old.
There comes a cold wind blowing on my face
and my cheeks are ruddy red.
It is a cold wind blowing on my face.
I feel like I am dead.
I need to stay inside today
and look out at the cold.
And that's exactly how you'll feel
when you're ninety years old.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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A Winter Morning In Gippsland
The wattle wears her cloak of flowers so lovely bright and yellow
But in the paddocks there's no grass and for hay the cattle bellow
It has been frosty over night and the ground with frost is hoary
And the only beauty I can see is the wattle in her glory.
The farmer says too cold and dry as dry as he remember
The Spring will come in late this year and no grass in September
The hereford cow hunched with the cold and she as tough as leather
For two months it's been cold and dry we need a change of weather.
The trainer on the trotting track watch his trotters exercising
And near ten o clock the sun comes out and the temperature starts rising
And across the paddock's uneven ground the old farm tractor rattle
As the farmer brings big bale of hay to feed his hungry cattle.
A Winter morning in Gippsland and for hay the cattle bellow
And the wattle wears her cloak of flowers so lovely, bright and yellow
And the farmer says too cold and dry as dry as he remember
And we need a week or two of rain for grass growth in September.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Bright Lights
The bright lights are calling me
The bright lights are calling me
When the world is dark and cold
And Im heading down the road
The bright lights are calling me
As the world is round, the road is long
Ive trouble on my mind
Ill just keep on moving
Until the day comes round
The wind a blowing on my back
And my feet a flying
Flying down the road
Where the bright lights shine
Mondays in a pigtown
Tuesdays in a truck
Wednesdays a field of mud
And thursdays out of luck
Fridays rain clouds
Saturday flies by
Sunday comes shining
From a blue blue sky
The bright lights are calling me
The bright lights are calling me
When the world is dark and cold
And Im heading down the road
The bright lights are calling me
Some towns are golden
Some towns are stained
Some towns are shadows
Fading in the rain
Some towns are rust
And some towns they gleam
Some towns are mad dogs
Some towns are a dream
The bright lights are calling me
The bright lights are calling me
When the world is dark and cold
And Im heading down the road
The bright lights are calling me
Some dreams are hollow
Some dreams are cold
Some dreams are crazy
And some dreams are bold
Some dreams are bought
And other dreams are sold
Some dreams lie waiting
At the end of the road
The bright lights are calling me
The bright lights are calling me
When the world is dark and cold
And Im heading down the road
The bright lights are calling me
song performed by by Pogues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Facing The Frost
People, around me, are confidently striding,
While I worry about slipping and sliding.
Where it is clear, my confidence grows,
But where it is icy, my pace, again, slows.
People are walking, looking fairly relaxed;
While I walk, head down, watching my tracks.
I approach an icy patch, and pull a funny face,
As, once again, I find I have to slow my pace.
I see some children on their way to school;
With walking on ice, they seem pretty cool.
From the looks on their faces, it is very clear,
That, unlike me, they do not hold any fear.
Where I am able, I walk along on the grass,
So that icy patches, on the pavement, I pass.
At times, I have no choice, but to face the ice;
With the threat of potential injury, I now dice.
My face is a picture of concern and worry;
With the ice around, I feel unable to hurry.
My journey to work seems to take forever.
Needless to say, I’m not a fan of this weather.
It is a cold and sunny morn, but by midday,
Some patches of ice have begun to melt away.
The top temperature today is only four degrees;
It’s been forecast that tonight it will, again, freeze.
Upon the frozen ground, where shadows fall,
The frost appears not to have melted at all.
The shady side of the street is still ice white,
While the sunny side, is now clear and bright.
Come afternoon, some patches of ice are still there;
Shrouded in shadow; untouched by the sun’s glare
The day grows older and night time draws near;
The time when Jack Frost, once again, will appear.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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She Was Hot
New York was cold and damp
TV is just a blank
Looks like another dead end Sunday
What about an early night
Monday never feels so bright
Ooh the sheets feel cold and lonely
Who wants to brave the pouring rain
For a glass of French champagne?
Well grab a cab
song performed by by Rolling Stones from Under Cover
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Deeper Than The Night
(tom snow/johnny vastano)
I cant imagine why you say the things you do
Maybe in time Ill understand
What is the reason for the emptiness you feel
When Im trying everything I can
My love is running deeper than the night
Stronger than the north wind blowing
Its a fire burning bright
And its always been this way
Can you hear me?
Am I really coming thru?
Why do your eyes seem to dance away?
I know whats right for you havent I always?
I need you more than I can say
My love is running deeper than the night
Stronger than the north wind blowing
Its a fire burning bright
And its always been this way
My love is running deeper than the night
Stronger than the north wind blowing
Its a fire burning bright
And its always been this way
And Ill never ever change
In my lifetime, Ill stay the same
Yes Ill never, Ill never change
Ill love you, Ill stay the same
My love is running deeper than the night
Stronger than the north wind blowing
Fire burning bright, and it keeps on growing, keeps on growing
(repeats)
song performed by by Olivia Newton-John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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New Life, New Love
The breezes blow on the river below,
And the fleecy clouds float high,
And I mark how the dark green gum trees match
The bright blue dome of the sky.
The rain has been, and the grass is green
Where the slopes were bare and brown,
And I see the things that I used to see
In the days ere my head went down.
I have found a light in my long dark night,
Brighter than stars or moon;
I have lost the fear of the sunset drear,
And the sadness of afternoon.
Here let us stand while I hold your hand,
Where the light’s on your golden head—
Oh! I feel the thrill that I used to feel
In the days ere my heart was dead.
The storm’s gone by, but my lips are dry
And the old wrong rankles yet—
Sweetheart or wife, I must take new life
From your red lips warm and wet!
So let it be, you may cling to me,
There is nothing on earth to dread,
For I’ll be the man that I used to be
In the days ere my heart was dead!
poem by Henry Lawson
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The Whispering Winds Of Hope...
The Whispering Winds of Hope
The Soothing Laughter of Rain
The Gentle Touch of The Sun
Can Begin to Help Heal Pain
The Bright Smiles of The Stars
The Brave Walk of The Moon
Even Muted Songs of The Night
Can Help To Hush The Gloom
So Listen To Your Heart
See With Your Mind’s Eye
Feel With Understanding
Even If You Have To Cry
Life Is Oh So Beautiful
Each Second A Precious Thing
Know Even In The Worst Sorrow
A Small Part Of You Can Dream
As The Wind Whispers of Hope
Believe Laughter of The Rain
Tomorrow Is Always A Brand New Day
Rebirth To Rejoice Again
On The Whispering Winds of Hope
And Soothing Laughter of The Rain
You Will Not Sleep Forevermore
GOD Held Me … and Explained
… The Bright Smiles of The Stars
The Brave Walk of The Moon
Are For Signs and Times … Our Visuals
Of What HE Can Do Soon
… Scent of Roses From My Window
Feel of Silk Upon My Bed
A Teardropp On My Cheek
And Brave Moonlight On My Head
The Whispering Winds of Hope
The Soothing Laughter of The Rain
When The Gentle Touch of The Son
Begins To Heal My Pain
Written & ©: 6/28/10
By: The MoonBee
poem by MoonBee Canady
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Winds bend the brown green grass of fall
Winds bend the brown green grass of fall
Whether in current age or decades past
Landscape gazers catch creatures storing seeds
Scattering yellow and white capped weeds
Preparing for winter their pattern unhindered
Winds bend the brown green grass of fall
Constant marker as mankind races
Ploughs terrain staking claim
Highways vanquish sod and plain
Yet tuffs of the brown green grass remain
Winds bend the brown green grass of fall
Off roadways geese settle and call
Despite cluttered asphalt the landscape recalls
Natures evolving, preparing and readying
For ice glistening cold when life sleeps through all
poem by Stephanie Eve Kane Arado
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Summertime
(Dean Sams/Rivers Rutherford/Tom Shapiro)
I like your look in that sweater
All warm and bundled up tight
But I keep picturing something a little different tonight
I see you in a bikini
One lazy toe in the pool
Layed back and sippin' on something long, tall and cool.
Yeah, I can't wait for a warm breeze blowin'
Green grass growin' and the bright sunshine
Short sundress with your long legs showin'
I can't wait for the summertime
Oh, the summertime.
I'm gonna find us some tickets
To a tropical isle
You just see if your mama can keep the kids for awhile
We'll take our drinks with umbrellas
We'll take a room with a view
I'm gonna take my sweet time makin' love to you
That's what I'm gonna do.
I can't wait for a warm breeze blowin'
Green grass growin' and the bright sunshine
Short sundress with your long legs showin'
I can't wait for the summertime
Feel your body next to mine
In the summertime.
Yeah, I can't wait for a warm breeze blowin'
Green grass growin' and the bright sunshine
Short sundress with your long legs showin'
I can't wait for the summertime
Oh I can't wait for a warm breeze blowin'
Green grass growin' and the bright sunshine
Short sundress with your long legs showin'
I can't wait for the summertime
Feel your body next to mine
In the summertime.
Summertime.
Summertime.
In the summertime...
song performed by by Lonestar
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dirge
PLACE this bunch of mignonette
In her cold, dead hand;
When the golden sun is set,
Where the poplars stand,
Bury her from sun and day,
Lay my little love away
From my sight.
She was like a modest flower
Blown in sunny June,
Warm as sun at noon's high hour,
Chaster than the moon.
Ah, her day was brief and bright,
Earth has lost a star of light;
She is dead.
Softly breathe her name to me,—
Ah, I loved her so.
Gentle let your tribute be;
None may better know
Her true worth than I who weep
O'er her as she lies asleep —
Soft asleep.
Lay these lilies on her breast,
They are not more white
Than the soul of her, at rest
'Neath their petals bright.
Chant your aves soft and low,
Solemn be your tread and slow, —
She is dead.
Lay her here beneath the grass,
Cool and green and sweet,
Where the gentle brook may pass
Crooning at her feet.
Nature's bards shall come and sing,
And the fairest flowers shall spring
Where she lies.
Safe above the water's swirl,
She has crossed the bar;
Earth has lost a precious pearl,
Heaven has gained a star,
That shall ever sing and shine,
Till it quells this grief of mine
For my love.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Growing Old
Somehow the skies don't seem so blue
As they used to be;
Blossoms have a fainter hue,
Grass less green I see.
There's no twinkle in a star,
Dawns don't seem so gold . . .
Yet, of course, I know they are:
Guess I'm growing old.
Somehow sunshine seems less bright,
Birds less gladly sing;
Moons don't thrill me with delight,
There's no kick in Spring.
Hills are steeper now and I'm
Sensitive to cold;
Lines are not so keen to rhyme . . .
Gosh! I'm growing old.
Yet in spite of failing things
I've no cause to grieve;
Age with all its ailing brings
Blessings, I believe:
Kindo' gentles up the mind
As the hope we hold
That with loving we will find
Friendliness in human kind,
Grace in growing old.
poem by Robert William Service
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Tell Mama
TELL MAMA"
Tell Mama why I just come and go
Tell her that I'm just looking for
Some other faces, other names
And that if I'm cold it's not the rain
It's not the rain
CHORUS
When I feel cold, when I feel cold
I miss my home, I miss my home
I miss my home.
When I feel cold, when I feel cold
I miss my home, I miss my home
I miss my home.
I hide my face, beyond my tears
I'd never thought I could miss you dear
It seems to feel so ...
My face near the window dreams far away
What should I do against this pain?
Against this pain?
CHORUS 2x
Tell Mama that time goes by and by
Like the summer rain you'll meet sometimes
So close your eyes and let it rain
Tell her, after sunshine you'll meet the rain
You'll meet the rain
When I feel cold, when I feel cold
I miss my home, I miss my home
I miss my home.
Tell Mama, tell her, tell her I feel cold
(I --- feel cold ---)
When I feel cold, when I feel cold
I miss my home, I miss my home
I miss my home.
When I feel cold, when I feel cold
I miss my home, I miss my home
I miss my home.
song performed by by Wonderwall
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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War (But The Moon Shines Bright)
Gunfire
Screams
And the moon shines so bright
Many soldiers
Many troops
And the moon shines so bright
Your best friend
Shot
And the moon shines so bright
His last words
'Tell my wife I love her! '
And the moon shines so bright
Tears in your eyes
Why happen such things?
And the moon shines so bright
So many dead people
War is horrible
But the moon shines bright
The whole horrible night
poem by Angel of Death
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Finis
An idle rhyme of the summer time,
Sweet, and solemn, and tender;
Fair with the haze of the moon's pale rays,
Bright with the sunset's splendour.
Summer and beauty over the lands -
Careless hours of pleasure;
A meeting of eyes and a touching of hands -
A change in the floating measure.
A deeper hue in the skies of blue,
Winds from the tropics blowing;
A softer grace in the fair moons face,
And the summer going, going.
The leaves drift down, the green grows brown,
And tears with smiles are blended;
A twilight hour and a treasured flower, -
And now the poem is ended.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Love Sonnet 73: I feel the winds of Olympus blowing,
I feel the winds of Olympus blowing,
That chill my feet on pedestals, gilded,
Minstrels on harps, incessantly singing,
Recounting quests, triumphantly ended;
But bring me down to where my princess waits,
Better repose is offered on her laps,
Bardic are songs, her soft raving creates;
Are there quests sweeter than her love, perhaps?
I bring no dragon's head cast at her feet,
Nor captive slaves from kingdoms torn apart,
And not a single ship from fleeing fleet,
But lovely rose, and with it goes my heart;
……I lay vanquished, imprisoned in her charms,
……Now at her feet lie, my armor and arms.
poem by Reyvrex Questor Reyes
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A June Night
Ten o'clock: the broken moon
Hangs not yet a half hour high,
Yellow as a shield of brass,
In the dewy air of June,
Poised between the vaulted sky
And the ocean's liquid glass.
Earth lies in the shadow still;
Low black bushes, trees, and lawn
Night's ambrosial dews absorb;
Through the foliage creeps a thrill,
Whispering of yon spectral dawn
And the hidden climbing orb.
Higher, higher, gathering light,
Veiling with a golden gauze
All the trembling atmosphere,
See, the rayless disk grows white!
Hark, the glittering billows pause!
Faint, far sounds possess the ear.
Elves on such a night as this
Spin their rings upon the grass;
On the beach the water-fay
Greets her lover with a kiss;
Through the air swift spirits pass,
Laugh, caress, and float away.
Shut thy lids and thou shalt see
Angel faces wreathed with light,
Mystic forms long vanished hence.
Ah, too fine, too rare, they be
For the grosser mortal sight,
And they foil our waking sense.
Yet we feel them floating near,
Know that we are not alone,
Though our open eyes behold
Nothing save the moon's bright sphere,
In the vacant heavens shown,
And the ocean's path of gold.
poem by Emma Lazarus
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Villanelle
We said farewell, my youth and I,
When all fair dreams were gone or going,
And Love’s red lips were cold and dry.
When white blooms fell from tree-tops high—
Our Austral winter’s way of snowing—
We said farewell, my youth and I.
We did not sigh—what use to sigh
When Death passed as a mower mowing,
And Love’s red lips were cold and dry?
But hearing Life’s stream thunder by,
That sang of old through flowers flowing,
We said farewell, my youth and I.
There was no hope in the blue sky,
No music in the low winds blowing,
And Love’s red lips were cold and dry.
My hair is black as yet, then why
So sad! I know not, only knowing
We said farewell, my youth and I.
All are not buried when they die;
Dead souls there are through live eyes showing
When Love’s red lips are cold and dry.
So, seeing where the dead men lie,
Out of their hearts the grave-flowers growing,
We said farewell, my youth and I,
When Love’s red lips were cold and dry.
poem by Victor James Daley
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