February Has Returned To Normal
After a week of summer sun
February returned to normal.
Grey skies to the horizon
and a light falling rain.
It is the February
that we all know so well,
and the sunshine
while it lasted
was an unexpected bonus to us all.
15 February 2008
poem by David Harris
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A Sunny Day In February
I stood by my car and looked down
at the still waters of the small lake below.
Several anglers with their rods cast
sat on small chairs along the lake bank.
Sheep grazed in a field
with not a care in the world,
on a sunny day in February.
The blue sky seemed
to stretch forever everywhere.
Peace drifted across everything
that was there
on this sunny day in February
at the farm I go to.
9 February 2008
poem by David Harris
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Second Sunday...
february is fickle
one gets inside a room, closes the door,
and spreads the mat and
turns off the light, but february does not
sleep, it boasts of love
till dawn,
there is an exit door at the left side
of the room
covered by a waterfall and
the sound of
birds mating, you know, calls, like that,
somehow, february is fun,
funny, makes the hearts of lonely people beat again,
dances under the moon,
begins to love again the rain at midnight
plucking rusty guitar strings
and kissing moonbeams
passionate as the
night blanketing the tall trees
erect to the
cold.
i like february, but i have none
for now.
the second sunday may prove
myself wrong,
she is coming, literally.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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At The End Of Another Day
The clouds were in line,
like stepping-stones from the horizon,
painted pink and grey
from the setting sun
at the end of another day.
19 February 2008
poem by David Harris
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Rain Water
Morning of 21st, I am 34.
The rain outside my window drizzles a rhythm of February dawn.
Rain water flows from the early morning sane—
Rain water washes the yesterday’s pain.
Rain water and I have loved you dear—
Rain water and you come close to me near.
Rain water taps my fingertips, and I love you more than yearning—
Rain water runs deeper into our skins of longing.
Morning of 21st, I am happier.
The rain won’t stop until I melt as a better person.
(written on February 21,2008 Marikina City, Philippines)
poem by Chester Maynes
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The Sunshine In The Rain
Let’s go for a walk
in the sunshine in the rain,
see the raindrops sparkle
on each little flower head.
We listen to the drumbeat
on our garden shed.
Every little petal outstretched
and reaching for the sun
gets a little bath today
in the sunshine in the rain.
The world is being showered
and dried at the same time
as I walk around the garden
in the sunshine in the rain.
7 February 2008
poem by David Harris
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‘February. Take ink and weep,’
February. Take ink and weep,
write February as you’re sobbing,
while black Spring burns deep
through the slush and throbbing.
Take a cab. For a clutch of copecks,
through bell-towers’ and wheel noise,
go where the rain-storm’s din breaks,
greater than crying or ink employs.
Where rooks in thousands falling,
like charred pears from the skies,
drop down into puddles, bringing
cold grief to the depths of eyes.
Below, the black shows through,
and the wind’s furrowed with cries:
the more freely, the more truly
then, sobbing verse is realised.
poem by Boris Pasternak
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Valentine Comp Poem 2
The heart shaped card with pretty words
Be my Valentine, my dear
Is there because the poor old man
Knows if the old lady doesn’t get one
She’ll box his blinkin’ ears
9 February 1992
Author’s Note:
This little poem was read out on radio between 10 February and 13 February and won a box of heart shaped chocolates for my lady fair.
poem by David Harris
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This Fabruary
This February took me to the frosts,
Experienced me by heavy snowstorms,
Wanted to know how much my love costs.
But…I was laughing boldly.
Happiness can't live lonely.
I warmed myself by this verity.
This February tried to cool my heart,
It wanted us to live forever apart.
But…it forgot: March will be a start.
It tried to ice-bound my feelings,
To reveal my longings and likings
Drawing its beautiful paintings.
It tried to show me the ring,
It cried: Forget the spring!
I am the only one! Your king!
It showed me the pictures of the past,
It wanted to say: Love do not last!
All events finish so fast!
I thought: Dear February, you are strange!
The spring will take its revenge!
The whole world will be changed!
You can frighten me, you cold month!
But I will always dance, having a chance!
In Spain under the rain and even in France.
At last this February took Mersey on me.
Tomorrow it promised to let me free.
It was also tired showing minus degree.
©Larisa Rzhepishevska (Odessa, Ukraine)
The 14th of February,2012
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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Summer Sun
The scent of fresh cut grass
wafts through the air
adding to all the fragrances
that are already there.
It’s summer again
and every flower’s leaf
is soaking up the sun,
enjoying the warming rays
for another day.
Tomorrow it might rain
and they’ll have a long
and cool refreshing drink,
but for today, the sunshine
is warm to the touch
brining smiling faces
to all who enjoy it there.
7 February 2008
poem by David Harris
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Another February
It's a non month
that takes me from winter
to early spring.
It sneaks in,
like a mousey spinster,
barren and lonely,
mostly ignored
and then hurries
back to whence it came.
It is the worst month,
dark and dismal,
neither here nor there,
never thought about,
except for its rain.
February, poor February,
its only redemption
is it is swift
and goes quickly on its way.
poem by Ruth Walters
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Hooray February!
I love February
because it’s a brewery
of chilly winter
and sunny warmth.
I love February
because it isn’t a cocky first;
but only a modest next
like how I always prefer
taking a second row chair.
Likewise my car, hello,
is not a Uno, but an Alto!
I love February
because it’s the baby
of the promising January.
And with that promise
February bears March
with all its vernal vibrancy.
I love water, aqua:
It’s the spring of life.
I love February
because I am an Aquarian.
I love February
because the holy water eponymous
purifies me and makes me vigorous
a la
Februa
the great Roman festival.
I love February
because it’s doughty,
has the will to survive:
From a long monthless limbo
to the twelfth place
then to the second
in the calendar -
it was a saga of freedom fight
in the hoary history of time.
I love February
because it’s a month of lovely violets
of diverse hues and scents galore
and
of amethysts that keep you sober.
I love February
because it’s the one month
that determines the leap
or otherwise of a year
shortie it is though.
They malign February as ‘hollow’ and ominous.
Don’t fib, I reply, it is ‘full’ and luminous:
I work for twenty eight
and get paid for thirty one.
Then isn’t it ‘full’?
No triskaidekaphobe,
I love the thirteenth
for it symbolises
the eternal crusade
against superstition
and discrimination.
God loves it too
for He has made the date
a rendezvous
of countless events
no less happy than any other.
I love Feb thirteenth
because I came into this world
on that unique date.
For me it’s always the first.
In their nineties and seventies
still going strong
on me shower my parents
a golden pot of blessings full.
Long live Februarians!
Long live humanitarians!
[Feb 11,2009: : Hyderabad - 500 056]
poem by AtreyaSarma Uppaluri
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February Girl
Her leaves can not crumble
But the earth is telling her to tremble
She can not listen
And will not hear
The sickness is keeping her still
February girl
Winter comes and goes
She wonders will it kill
Flowers grow
She prays for the sun to show
That February girl
Winter is here and she hates the snow
Chilled to the bone
Oh how she hates the snow
Put on your winter coat
She wishes to be a oak and not a willow
Oh February girl
Winter will soon go.
poem by Cassanndra King
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Piazza Liberta
[Piazza Liberta]
Trieste. Of my February foggy white dense
a student, to expect this term to finish
You kept me in your spiritual shrine's sense
first year in the University, time to diminish.
I am waiting! Even if I knew you 'll never be
of my exclusion in this fog's heart wedges
My margin of this February will write, maybe
of your beloved one, the waves of souls edges.
(I made an acquaintance with sailors
of a cargo-boat, they tell me stories
about terrible typhoons, wild sharks
of Indian Ocean, routes upon maps.)
In three months I learned the language well
And every night, February's visitor you were
Ideally solitaire of my life's kind dream
keeping me company, a light that will never beam.
February, fog, people walk in Piazza Liberta
a trattoria, company of students, of you I think
I am writing this letter; you, of my words trace,
inside the fog, are calling me, with an embrace.
-
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Colours For Summer
Nurturing life’s sunshine
sprinkling of rain
spring breathes life
into greenery abound
new generations birth
colours for summer.
12 February 2011
poem by David Harris
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Colour My World
Many colours
colour my world.
Blue,
when I’m feeling sad.
Yellow,
when I’m happy.
Grey,
on those days
when I am lonely.
Black,
when I am depressed.
16 February 2008
poem by David Harris
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April Rain
April rain has suddenly come,
With a sudden burst from the heavy clouds,
Washing the dust of February draught,
I stood alone, and all alone with a sad heart.
April rain is falling heavy,
With falling ice, and I felt so chilly,
As the rain fall, my tears are falling too,
In this April rain, hence nobody knew.
poem by Desert Life
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A
“Christmas In February”
I know it’s not Christmas time,
But my wish is to now have it anyway.
So I can hear the laughter of my little ones,
Opening their gifts on my February Christmas Day.
Wonderful scents of Christmas ham with gravy and biscuits,
Along with my mother’s spicy peach cobbler recipe.
All this is what I wish to have this February,
I pray for all those most precious of past Christmas’s memories.
Children are now all grown up,
They’ve gone on their ways.
Don’t write or call of visit me much,
I never wanted them to exclude me in such a way.
For my heart still remembers their childhood days,
But now they’re all grown and in their own world it seems.
And left me with just my memories of Christmas past,
And stuck with only my old timer kind of wishful dreams.
poem by Linda Winchell
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Christmas In February
“Christmas In February”
I know it’s not Christmas time,
But my wish is to now have it anyway.
So I can hear the laughter of my little ones,
Opening their gifts on my February Christmas Day.
Wonderful scents of Christmas ham with gravy and biscuits,
Along with my mother’s spicy peach cobbler recipe.
All this is what I wish to have this February,
I pray for all those most precious of past Christmas’s memories.
Children are now all grown up,
They’ve gone on their ways.
Don’t write or call of visit me much,
I never wanted them to exclude me in such a way.
For my heart still remembers their childhood days,
But now they’re all grown and in their own world it seems.
And left me with just my memories of Christmas past,
And stuck with only my old timer kind of wishful dreams.
poem by Linda Winchell
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Fishing Time
Hands in pockets
Pants tucked neatly in his boots
He stood looking at the river
Brown cap with earflaps down
Keeping the cold at bay
This sunny February morning
Longing by the river
His eyes measured the banks
Dreaming of fishing time
February 20,1997
poem by Marjorie DeBol DeFazio
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A Rhythm Of Life
The rhythm of a heartbeat
is heard across the land
with every new child born.
A rhythm of life itself
that follows us everywhere
from the cradle to the grave.
No one can deny it;
it’s the most wonderful sound of all.
The rhythm of life,
the everlasting kind,
come the rain or sunshine.
When you wake up in the morning,
breathe fresh air in,
always enjoy the rhythm of life
for as long as you can.
7 February 2008
poem by David Harris
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