Early Works - Near The Close Of Day
The crimson sunset breezes
dawn lines across the water
as dinghies nudge their moorings
in the quiet of the evening.
We sit in stillness on a hillside
the world beneath our feet
a closing day before us
seems all within our reach.
The last forays of gulls,
across the quiet waters
way beneath our feet,
as time stand still around us.
The creatures of the daylight
find a place to sleep
we watch the beauty before us
change moment to moment.
Shadows creep across the landscape
near the closing of the day
soon night will be upon us
and the moon will send shafts of silver.
Across the stilled waters of our little bay,
we will retire to ours beds
and wait for the coming day
whose sunshine again
will warm the ground.
21 July 1995
poem by David Harris
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A Quiet Time
Between the dawn and the daylight,
there is a quiet time
when the creatures of the night
scurry to their warm beds,
and creatures of the daylight
begin to yawn before getting out of theirs.
A quiet time when the world
seems so much at peace.
poem by David Harris
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Untouched by Grace, but not by Snow
Waking up, noticing the ground
To my surprise I am surround by snow
Every detail in which was lay
With perfect precise wonder
In this most daring betray of beauty
And all is quiet
All is so annoyingly quiet
The dirt that is covered peeks through the ground
Destroying what was once beauty
That was pronounced by the glistened snow
And all I can do is wonder
How this world become simple to lay
When sleep takes us on we lay
And all is deeply quiet
Our dreams become our wonder
Weather we stand on solid ground
An undefined map layer out by snow
Creates to us sleeping beauty
But what is this beauty?
And where does it lay?
What is understood to be a lie as white as snow
And all has become a false quiet
Life, which puts our burdens to the ground
And here we are left to wonder
To whom to we place our wonder
The one who holds onto your beauty?
Who picks you up off the ground
And will be contempt as you lay
This is the lovely quiet
Dawn, of our love as pure as snow
To ask what is this snow
Pure, grace, love to which we wonder
Making this moment freeze in quiet
Holding unto this betrayed beauty
Which pours unto us as we lay
To the emissive ground
To become as pure as snow is beauty
But do we wonder under stars we lay?
And all was quiet as the snow flake touched ground
Beneath Your Feet
Everyday we go outside,
to enjoy the world out there,
but we never think about,
the world beneath our feet.
It maybe tiny and microscopic,
with creatures that make some shiver.
This world is in a way
similar to the one we live in.
There are dramas there
as each creature struggles to survive.
So the next time you go
out into the garden,
stop for a moment and wonder,
at all the dramas being played out there.
The dramas of life and death,
that is just beneath your feet.
poem by David Harris
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Evening
When little lights in little ports come out,
Quivering down through water with the stars,
And all the fishing fleet of slender spars
Range at their moorings, veer with tide about;
When race of wind is stilled and sails are furled,
And underneath our single riding-light
The curve of black-ribbed deck gleams palely white,
And slumbrous waters pool a slumbrous world;
--Then, and then only, have I thought how sweet
Old age might sink upon a windy youth,
Quiet beneath the riding-light of truth,
Weathered through storms, and gracious in retreat.
poem by Victoria Sackville-West
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Beneath Still Waters
(dallas frazer)
Beneath still waters
Theres a strong undertow
The surface wont tell you
What the deep water knows
Darling, Im saying
I know somethings wrong
Beneath still waters
Your love is gone
Even a fool could see
That youll soon be leaving me
But each and every heart
Must take its turn at misery
And this time its me
And Ill cry alone
Beneath still waters
Your love is gone
Even a fool could see
That youll soon be leaving me
But each and every heart
Must take its turn at misery
And this time its me
And Ill cry alone
Beneath still waters
Your love is gone
Beneath still waters
Your love is gone
Beneath still waters
Your love is gone
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Springtime Splendor
The sunset is easing over the hills
Lavishing the trees with it's beauty;
The glow of the skies gives a thrill
The sunset dresses the earth truly.
Daffodils are closely clustered in love
Others are wilted by the drafts of wind;
The lilacs seem to color the sky above
While joyous hearts and beauty are akin.
The golden sky emits dimly the foothills
Gleaming stars shimmer in their evening dress;
The shades of the trees touching the window sills
While all nature recedes to their evening rest.
What a glory! To see the full moon rising
And one sees the comet travel in the sky;
Is all this march of the sunset surprising?
This grand procession need not pass us by.
Shining brilliance from glory spill
Down on your floral garden space;
Beauty enraptures the sunset thrill
The mountain leaves hanging like lace.
There are valleys with their yellow and red
Draped around it's borders, with a strand that glow;
Revealing it's coat of green and silver thread -
It is sunset, yes sunset, this we know.
Now ponder the joy in all your experiences
And then, think of the robin's lovely nest;
How carefully they sing with assurance -
Too, the squirrel is perched at it's best.
Now, since I have watched the sunset leave
Tuck yourself away, and go to sleep;
In exotic streams of beauty now believe
On arising, your strength of joy shall leap.
Then the buzzing of cars rushing down the way
Shades are pulled, doors are tight with lock;
Opportunities are engaged for the coming day
The creator, shall with your provisions knock.
It is time for nodding, while the hills are dark
Yet graced like velvet curtains hanging still;
The breezes softly brushing yet with a spark
Beneath the leaves, creatures sleep on the hill.
May the splendor of His springtime be a message
Why not rise up through the beauty of it all;
Take the mastery of his painting as a lesson
Quiet thine heart and ye shall hear His call.
poem by Elsie B. McAteer
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Charm, The
In darkness the loud sea makes moan;
And earth is shaken, and all evils creep
About her ways.
Oh, now to know you sleep!
Out of the whirling blinding moil, alone,
Out of the slow grim fight,
One thought to wing -- to you, asleep,
In some cool room that's open to the night
Lying half-forward, breathing quietly,
One white hand on the white
Unrumpled sheet, and the ever-moving hair
Quiet and still at length! . . .
Your magic and your beauty and your strength,
Like hills at noon or sunlight on a tree,
Sleeping prevail in earth and air.
In the sweet gloom above the brown and white
Night benedictions hover; and the winds of night
Move gently round the room, and watch you there.
And through the dreadful hours
The trees and waters and the hills have kept
The sacred vigil while you slept,
And lay a way of dew and flowers
Where your feet, your morning feet, shall tread.
And still the darkness ebbs about your bed.
Quiet, and strange, and loving-kind, you sleep.
And holy joy about the earth is shed;
And holiness upon the deep.
poem by Rupert Brooke
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The Charm
In darkness the loud sea makes moan;
And earth is shaken, and all evils creep
About her ways.
Oh, now to know you sleep!
Out of the whirling blinding moil, alone,
Out of the slow grim fight,
One thought to wing - to you, asleep,
In some cool room that's open to the night
Lying half-forward, breathing quietly,
One white hand on the white
Unrumpled sheet, and the ever-moving hair
Quiet and still at length! . . .
Your magic and your beauty and your strength,
Like hills at noon or sunlight on a tree,
Sleeping prevail in earth and air.
In the sweet gloom above the brown and white
Night benedictions hover; and the winds of night
Move gently round the room, and watch you there.
And through the dreadful hours
The trees and waters and the hills have kept
The sacred vigil while you slept,
And lay a way of dew and flowers
Where your feet, your morning feet, shall tread.
And still the darkness ebbs about your bed.
Quiet, and strange, and loving-kind, you sleep.
And holy joy about the earth is shed;
And holiness upon the deep.
poem by Rupert Brooke (1909)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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And You Are My Everything
You are my everything---
Night whispers in full bloom...
A fragrance garden radiating...
The brillance of the moon...
You are my endless sea--
No river of regret--
My still waters ever deep with thought...
A most brillant sunset...
You are my time within time--
Each moment an hours embrace...
Your tender touch-a necessity...
Your sweet lips upon my face...
You are the longing breath---
Upon my neck and spine...
The ever longed for-caress of my flesh...
A bliss-filled moment in time---
You are my everything--
My daylight reverie--
A thought of love-turned real my dove...
You are my sweetest memory---
The Essence
July,2010
poem by Theodora Onken
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Sunset Serenade
I serenade my love at sunset
beneath the embers of a sleepy sun.
Just before it slips away
behind the distant mountains
to herald the coming of the night
when the purple hues envelope everything
and the night choir all begin to sing.
My love and I sit
as I sing my serenade,
our fingers linked together
as the light begins to fade.
We sip the nectar of love
at the closing of the day
and the world to us
seems a million miles away.
At a time, when day and night collide
and beckon evening tide.
We sit at peace with the world
and enjoy our sunset serenade.
4 April 2009
poem by David Harris
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That's When You Know
for everyone
the story goes
there's a special someone
to make them whole
someone to give their heart completely
and you may search
high and low
and when you find your angel
and when you know
then you finally get that feeling
it'll be as clear as the air you're breathing
that's when the world feels small beneath your feet
its when the stars above are only just out of reach
when you feel you're alive for the very first time
and there's nothing that you can rise above
that's when you know that you're in love
who can tell the time and place
when you see your soul reflected in their face
it'll be a spell you're under
and it'll hit you just like thunder
that's when the world feels small beneath your feet
it's when the stars above are only just out of reach
when you feel you're alive for the very first time
and when you hold them in your arms and cant let go
that's when you know
for all of my life
I have been searching
for something I couldn't find
but now that I know that you are the one
I understand
I read the signs
cos now the world feels small beneath my feet
and all the stars above are only just out of reach
when you feel you're alive for the very first time
and there's nothing that you can rise above
that's when you know that your in love
song performed by by Gareth Gates from What My Heart Wants To Say
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Tramp On The Street
The snowflakes fell
like white feathers from heaven
leaving a white blanket on the ground.
He trudged through the lonely streets
with nowhere to go.
A tramp on the street
with only rags to cover his feet,
trying to find a place to sleep
and rest his weary bones.
He passed a frozen river,
it made his cold body shiver
for he could see a pair of hand raise up held
and hear a small voice as it yelled.
Without a moment hesitation,
though barely nothing on his feet
he started to walk
across the sharp iced water
even though the wind fiercely blew.
He had to reach the child
that had fallen through.
He moved as fast as he could
although he was almost crippled.
Reaching down he plucked the child
from the dark waters cold
as the wind blew fierce and wild.
He moved slowly to the shore
as a silent rain began to pour.
Finding shelter beneath some trees
covered the child in what
dry clothes he had.
He forgot about his feet that hurt
as he covers the child
with his ragged coat and shirt.
He made sure the child was warm
before he laid himself to rest.
The child later awoke to find
the tramp stiff and blue
within his snowy bed.
There is no moral to this story
of why one ill treated by society
would willingly forfit his life
so that an unknown child would live.
We can only ponder on the thoughts
that went through his head
as he laid himself down to sleep
on that snowy bed.
12 January 2008
poem by David Harris
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Ships Passing In Night Born
ships are sailing upon turn tide flowing river waters
light is dance happy mellow yellows closing long day
soon sunset will add flame reds fingers yellow gold
sun sets sinks into still sea upon horizon home shores
dust light fades shadows creep in stealth murky images
suddenly black dawns night deep darkness speaks in glory
starlight sparkles upon enchanted waters river ebbs flows
passage across bar out into ocean waves rocks emotions
soon short journeys made upon ocean waters salts senses
watch shoreline beach grey sands invisible stretch wet away
waters dark painted ocean oil black sparkles in flow waves
beach sands perfume night with residue heat breeze vapours
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Stranded (Lyrics)
Your waves come crashing down
Like a semi-auto trailer
I dive so deep in the sea
To avoid killer whales
A perfect moment here and gone
It has sailed
I'll use a hammerhead to drive
Rusty nail inside
I'm feeling the sea beneath me, beneath you
I'm feeling the sea beneath you, beneath me
Imagine if our world was blue and weightless
I never meant to do wrong to you
You're my starfish
You moan a tone so low beyond me
A telepathic sub-sonic frequency
I need a little air for emergency
You have to understand this urgency
I'm feeling the sea beneath me, beneath you
White sand beneath my feet
No brain between my ears
I'm feeling the sea beneath you, beneath me
I know that if I had one
I'd spare us both these years
I'm feeling the sea beneath me, beneath you
White sand beneath my feet
No brain between my ears
I'm feeling the sea beneath you, beneath me
I know that if I had one
I'd spare us both these years
A sea anemone, you're my enemy
poem by Satan's Sibling
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Black & white and shades of grey.
The curfew marks the fading of the light.
Now is the time when shadows congregate.
In hidden corners where they wait.
To welcome eagerly the fall of night.
Although by daylight forced to hide from sight.
The fall of darkness sets the shadows free
To go about their business secretly.
The quiet hours when the shadows claim their right.
But dawn will come and with the dawn daylight.
The shadows then are forced to hide away.
Throughout the day, to wait impatiently
Counting the hours until the fall of night.
Though where the shadows hide no man can say
With any degree of accuracy.
Tuesday,07 February 2012
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Leisure
What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.
No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.
No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night.
No time to turn at Beauty's glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.
No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.
A poor life this is if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
poem by William Henry Davies
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The Song of Tigilau
The song of Tigilau the brave,
Sina's wild lover,
Who across the heaving wave
From Samoa came over:
Came over, Sina, at the setting moon!
The moon shines round and bright;
She, with her dark-eyed maidens at her side,
Watches the rising tide.
While balmy breathes the starry southern night,
While languid heaves the lazy southern tide;
The rising tide, O Sina, and the setting moon!
The night is past, is past and gone,
The moon sinks to the West,
The sea-heart beats opprest,
And Sina's passionate breast
Heaves like the sea, when the pale moon has gone,
Heaves like the passionate sea, Sina, left by the moon alone!
Silver on silver sands, the rippling waters meet --
Will he come soon?
The rippling waters kiss her delicate feet,
The rippling waters, lisping low and sweet,
Ripple with the tide,
The rising tide,
The rising tide, O Sina, and the setting moon!
He comes! -- her lover!
Tigilau, the son of Tui Viti.
Her maidens round her hover,
The rising waves her white feet cover.
O Tigilau, son of Tui Viti,
Through the mellow dusk thy proas glide,
So soon!
So soon by the rising tide,
The rising tide, my Sina, and the setting moon!
The mooring-poles are left,
The whitening waves are cleft,
By the prows of Tui Viti!
By the sharp keels of Tui Viti!
Broad is the sea, and deep,
The yellow Samoans sleep,
But they will wake and weep --
Weep in their luxurious odorous vales,
While the land breeze swells the sails
Of Tui Viti!
Tui Viti -- far upon the rising tide,
The rising tide --
The rising tide, my Sina, beneath the setting moon!
She leaps to meet him!
Her mouth to greet him
Burns at his own.
Away! To the canoes,
To the yoked war canoes!
The sea in murmurous tone
Whispers the story of their loves,
Re-echoes the story of their loves --
The story of Tui Viti,
Of Sina and Tui Viti,
By the rising tide,
The rising tide, Sina, beneath the setting moon!
She has gone!
She has fled!
Sina!
Sina, for whom the warriors decked their shining hair,
Wreathing with pearls their bosoms brown and bare,
Flinging beneath her dainty feet
Mats crimson with the feathers of the parrakeet.
Ho, Samoans! rouse your warriors full soon,
For Sina is across the rippling wave,
With Tigilau, the bold and brave.
Far, far upon the rising tide!
Far upon the rising tide!
Far upon the rising tide, Sina, beneath the setting moon.
poem by Marcus Clarke
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The Vision quest
Wandering pine,
with rolled rug slung across her back
walked bare foot to feel the rich earth
beneath her feet.
The trees, high pines either side,
shielded the low sun casting shadows
bringing the ancestors.
Breaking through the pines
into crystal blue she laid her rug.
Calling on the four winds
North to prowling Bear
West to snarling Panther
East to breathing Moose
South to follow the doe eyed fawn
she began her vision quest
seated in a circle on the ground.
Cross legged she waited
stilled her mind
drew her quiet breath
and breathed the mountain air
slowly for the longest time.
Then it came.......
The rising...........
The oneness........
The wholeness.....
and The knowing
spreading through her
like the four winds.
There she stayed......
until the morning of the fourth day
when she rose quietly, rolled her rug
and descended through the pines;
with the rich earth beneath her feet
and the sound of running water at her side.
poem by Diana Rosser
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Another Day
Here's another day, she waits and pulls herself away
at just the right moment to save her face
I watch the time go ticking down, the waters falling on the ground
I catch myself and try to speak with grace
you needed just enough anger, to get you through the door
and you got just enough honesty, to make you want a little more
I wish for nothing but the rain, to fall and wash away
everything that I've done wrong, find a way to make you strong
if only for another day
when I'm all alone, just me and my ghosts
standing three deep, just like sentries at their post
they make sure I remember, just a little more than most
they make sure that I understand the consequence of past
when you see me chasing daydreams and you know that I'm not there
I'm not the one who sits across from you, who, returns your stare
and I watch as you grow quiet like you always did
and I wait to get what I deserve
its the part that doesn't die that makes it hurt...
song performed by by Nine Days
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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From Beneath My School
Did you ever see my school from beneath
Or did you ever hear it creep
Did you ever see it flip over
Or when it slid under a tree
Did you ever see it in a river swimming under your feet
Did you realize that was looking from above rather than under
Next time you see that school in water, swim under its feet
Well now you saw my school from beneath
poem by Ahad Rajput
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