Mating
Round clouds roll in the arms of the wind,
The round earth rolls in a clasp of blue sky,
And see, where the budding hazels are thinned,
The wild anemones lie
In undulating shivers beneath the wind.
Over the blue of the waters ply
White ducks, a living flotilla of cloud;
And, look you, floating just thereby,
The blue-gleamed drake stems proud
Like Abraham, whose seed should multiply.
In the lustrous gleam of the water, there
Scramble seven toads across the silk, obscure leaves,
Seven toads that meet in the dusk to share
The darkness that interweaves
The sky and earth and water and live things everywhere.
Look now, through the woods where the beech-green spurts
Like a storm of emerald snow, look, see
A great bay stallion dances, skirts
The bushes sumptuously,
Going outward now in the spring to his brief deserts.
Ah love, with your rich, warm face aglow,
What sudden expectation opens you
So wide as you watch the catkins blow
Their dust from the birch on the blue
Lift of the pulsing wind—ah, tell me you know!
Ah, surely! Ah, sure from the golden sun
A quickening, masculine gleam floats in to all
Us creatures, people and flowers undone,
Lying open under his thrall,
As he begets the year in us. What, then, would you shun?
Why, I should think that from the earth there fly
Fine thrills to the neighbour stars, fine yellow beams
Thrown lustily off from our full-blown, high
Bursting globe of dreams,
To quicken the spheres that are virgin still in the sky.
Do you not hear each morsel thrill
With joy at travelling to plant itself within
The expectant one, therein to instil
New rapture, new shape to win,
From the thick of life wake up another will?
Surely, and if that I would spill
The vivid, ah, the fiery surplus of life,
From off my brimming measure, to fill
You, and flush you rife
With increase, do you call it evil, and always evil?
poem by David Herbert Lawrence
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Blue Beret
Life is sometimes shorter than you think
So take yourself a hike from the kitchen sink
Me, I like to roam
Wasnt built in a day
And night throws the stars in our way
Meanwhile on planet earth
Some people are dying for the right to say
Some people are dying cause the other people busy blowing them away
Well, were all dying so we better have a ton of fun along the way
I say hats off, get your hats off, take your hats off, get your hats off
For the blue beret
Blue beret, blue beret
The wind has blown it off his head
And sent it spinning straight to nowhere
Nowhere to get ahead in this life
Life is sometimes longer than you need
Especially if its thrown away on hate and greed
Well, me I like to think while the other fish swim
But sharks made a meal out of him
Meanwhile on bone dry land
Some people are dying for the right to say
Some people just want the right to say
Some people are dying cause the other people busy blowing them away
Some people are merely blown away
Well, were all dying so we better have a ton of fun along the way
I say hats off, take your hats off, get your hats off, take your hats off
To the blue beret
Blue beret, blue beret
The wind has blown it off his head
And sent it spinning straight to nowhere
Nowhere to get ahead in this life
So just love your dog and dont kick your wife
Put down that knife, watch out the windows,
And blow your hat away
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blue Beret
Life is sometimes shorter than you think
So take yourself a hike from the kitchen sink
Me, I like to roam
Wasnt built in a day
And night throws the stars in our way
Meanwhile on planet earth
Some people are dying for the right to say
Some people are dying cause the other people busy blowing them away
Well, were all dying so we better have a ton of fun along the way
I say hats off, get your hats off, take your hats off, get your hats off
For the blue beret
Blue beret, blue beret
The wind has blown it off his head
And sent it spinning straight to nowhere
Nowhere to get ahead in this life
Life is sometimes longer than you need
Especially if its thrown away on hate and greed
Well, me I like to think while the other fish swim
But sharks made a meal out of him
Meanwhile on bone dry land
Some people are dying for the right to say
Some people just want the right to say
Some people are dying cause the other people busy blowing them away
Some people are merely blown away
Well, were all dying so we better have a ton of fun along the way
I say hats off, take your hats off, get your hats off, take your hats off
To the blue beret
Blue beret, blue beret
The wind has blown it off his head
And sent it spinning straight to nowhere
Nowhere to get ahead in this life
So just love your dog and dont kick your wife
Put down that knife, watch out the windows,
And blow your hat away
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Very Early Spring
The fields are snowbound no longer;
There are little blue lakes and flags of tenderest green.
The snow has been caught up into the sky--
So many white clouds--and the blue of the sky is cold.
Now the sun walks in the forest,
He touches the bows and stems with his golden fingers;
They shiver, and wake from slumber.
Over the barren branches he shakes his yellow curls.
Yet is the forest full of the sound of tears....
A wind dances over the fields.
Shrill and clear the sound of her waking laughter,
Yet the little blue lakes tremble
And the flags of tenderest green bend and quiver.
poem by Katherine Mansfield
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mistral
Mistral
Strong wind to end winter
With that I’ll paint city full of color
To spring theme
To the blue sea…to the blue sky…
Further…higher…
I’ll forget the land I trust so far
Because you suddenly come
In front of me that walking plain
When two winds meet
That wind twirl makes my eyes spin
Like merry-go-round on the sky
Mistral
Blue wind spring caller blows to the sea
I can fly to the sky
Because you throw my weakness
After passing this season
Blow again mistral
Further…higher…
To the blue sea…
To the blue sky…
Further…higher…
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Oh, Blue Blue Sky
As the wind blows
and leaves on the trees gently sway
I don't know why
but I just cannot help
to hold my head up high
and stare at you.
Oh, blue blue sky
why don't you come down
and play with me
together
with your clouds so white.
Come down and play with me
let me roll
let me slide on your back
and when we get tired
let me lie down
with your embrace.
Oh, blue blue sky
come play with me
the whole day long
untill your blue becomes black
and the stars shine again
in your darkness.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Joy Of Spring
The sky above is shinning blue today,
And sun beams are playfully kissing the earth,
Flowers rise proud its stalks and tell us their stories,
A sleeping nature getting back to life in its glorious way.
The peace of grass rustling in the wind,
Is melting with the twitter of happy birds in trees,
Spring time has come to us again,
A spectacular view my eyes enjoy today.
Trees turn green are budding as life rebirth,
The exuberance of orange, blue, purple, yellow came,
And warm my heart in misterious ways,
With such variety of colours this spring make bold my soul in grace.
New beginnings in our lives have start,
Brought by the refreshment of a sunny march day,
I will never forget what spring time means,
Joy of spring took my breath away again.
poem by Cristina Teodor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Budding
The budding.
A rebirth of a season missed.
Spring arrives to lift spirits high.
Clear blue skies are witnessed...
As white clouds drift.
The budding.
Of flowers and grass and the leaves,
On Oak, Maple and Birch Trees.
Welcomes a lilting done of wind,
Introducing a Spring breeze to ease...
With a life that seems to be enjoyed again.
The budding.
Of familiar love known,
Yet hibernated in the Winter...
Amidst snow drifts.
And we smile and laugh and again forget,
That stress we welcomed to separate us...
From identifying those blessings,
That surrounds us to reach for complete happiness.
To explore and experience all of nature's treasures.
As Spring awakens with a freshness it brings.
With the budding, the blooming and the joy!
As Spring awakens with a freshness it brings.
With the budding, the blooming and the joy!
As Spring awakens with a freshness it brings.
With the budding.
The blooming done.
And the joy!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Summer Pool
THERE is a singing in the summer air,
The blue and brown moths flutter o’er the grass,
The stubble bird is creaking in the wheat,
And perch’d upon the honeysuckle-hedge
Pipes the green linnet. Oh, the golden world!
The stir of life on every blade of grass,
The motion and the joy on every bough,
The glad feast everywhere, for things that love
The sunshine, and for things that love the shade!
Aimlessly wandering with weary feet,
Watching the wool white clouds that wander by,
I come upon a lonely place of shade,—
A still green Pool, where with soft sound and stir
The shadows of o’erhanging branches sleep,
Save where they leave one dreamy space of blue,
O’er whose soft stillness ever and anon
The feathery cirrus blows. Here unaware
I pause, and leaning on my staff I add
A shadow to the shadows; and behold!
Dim dreams steal down upon me, with a hum
Of little wings, a murmuring of boughs,
The dusky stir and motion dwelling here,
Within this small green world. O’ershadow’d
By dusky greenery, tho’ all around
The sunshine throbs on fields of wheat and bean,
Downward I gaze into the dreamy blue,
And pass into a waking sleep, wherein
The green boughs rustle, feathery wreaths of cloud
Pass softly, piloted by golden airs:
The air is still,—no birds sing any more,—
And helpless as a tiny flying thing,
I am alone in all the world with God.
The wind dies—not a leaf stirs—on the Pool
The fly scarce moves; earth seems to hold her breath
Until her heart stops, listening silently
For the far footsteps of the coming rain!
While thus I pause, it seems that I have gain’d
New eyes to see; my brain grows sensitive
To trivial things that, at another hour,
Had pass’d unheeded. Suddenly the air
Shivers, the shadows in whose midst I stand
Tremble and blacken—the blue eye o’ the Pool
Is clos’d and clouded; with a sudden gleam
Oiling its wings, a swallow darteth past,
And weedling flowers beneath my feet thrust up
Their leaves, to feel the fragrant shower. Oh, hark!
The thirsty leaves are troubled into sighs,
And up above me, on the glistening boughs,
Patters the summer rain!
Into a nook,
Screen’d by thick foliage of oak and beech,
I creep for shelter; and the summer shower
Murmurs around me. Oh, the drowsy sounds!
The pattering rain, the numerous sigh of leaves,
The deep, warm breathing of the scented air,
Sink sweet into my soul—until at last,
Comes the soft ceasing of the gentle fall,
And lo! the eye of blue within the Pool
Opens again, while with a silvern gleam
Dew diamonds twinkle moistly on the leaves,
Or, shaken downward by the summer wind,
Fall melting on the Pool in rings of light!
poem by William Cosmo Monkhouse
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Do You Want With Me
You live in a mansion, with your own private harbor
And you own an island, where you go every summer
What do you want with me, Earth, wind, water, or fire
You're been educated in the best schools all around the world
Life is simple when people hang on your every word
What do you want with me, Earth, wind, water, or fire
Your father is a leader and unknown to the world
A puppet master of billions, and your his little girl
What do you want with me, Earth, wind, water, or fire
You mother has a club in Rome where the elite come to gather
Illuminated by fine conversation, while enjoying their evening supper
What do you want with me, Earth, wind, water, or fire
Your riches can't buy everything
Your riches can't buy everything
You are a collector of unique and very precious things
And store them for safe keeping, hoping to save them
What do you want with me, Earth, wind, water, or fire
What do you want with me, Earth, wind, water, or fire
Copyright Colin Coplin 2012
poem by Colin Coplin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Spring Morning
Where am I going? I don't quite know.
Down to the stream where the king-cups grow-
Up on the hill where the pine-trees blow-
Anywhere, anywhere. I don't know.
Where am I going? The clouds sail by,
Little ones, baby ones, over the sky.
Where am I going? The shadows pass,
Little ones, baby ones, over the grass.
If you were a cloud, and sailed up there,
You'd sail on water as blue as air,
And you'd see me here in the fields and say:
'Doesn't the sky look green today?'
Where am I going? The high rooks call:
'It's awful fun to be born at all.'
Where am I going? The ring-doves coo:
'We do have beautiful things to do.'
If you were a bird, and lived on high,
You'd lean on the wind when the wind came by,
You'd say to the wind when it took you away:
'That's where I wanted to go today!'
Where am I going? I don't quite know.
What does it matter where people go?
Down to the wood where the blue-bells grow-
Anywhere, anywhere. I don't know.
poem by Alan Alexander Milne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sky-Minded
Blue sky,
blue sky.
Looking at you, wishing the day by.
Blue sky,
purple sky.
Storm coming in, here it is, there's the eye.
Blue sky,
grey sky.
The earth is wailing, the thunder yells, and the clouds cry.
Blue sky,
grey sky,
black sky.
Tore away at the moon, swallowed stars, listened to the sun die.
Black sky
Green sky
Orange sky
Red sky
Pink and yellow and mean sky.
Come on and roll in; it's only in my mind.
poem by Delilah Miller
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sky Blue
Lost my time lost my place in
Sky blue
Those two blue eyes light your face in
Sky blue
I know how to fly, I know how to drown in
Sky blue
Warm wind blowing over the earth
Sky blue
I sing through the land, the land sings through me
Sky blue
Reaching into the deepest shade of
Sky blue
Sky blue
So tired of all this travelling
So many miles away from home
I keep moving to be stable
Free to wander, free to roam
Train pulled out said my goodbyes
Sky blue
Back on the road alone with the sky
Sky blue
Theres a presence here no one denies
Sky blue
Sky blue
Sky blue
So tired of all this travelling
So many miles away from home
I keep moving to be stable
Free to wander, free to roam
I can hear the same voice calling
Crying out, from my heart
And that cry, what a cry
What a cry, its going to be
If I can stop to let it out, oh
song performed by by Peter Gabriel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Open water!
Open water, open water!
All the weary winter's yearning
Bursts in restless passion burning.
Scarce is seen the blue of ocean,
And the hours seem months in motion.
Open water, open water!
Smiles the sun on ice defiant,
Eats it like a shameless giant:
Soon as mouth of sun forsakes it,
Swift the freezing night remakes it.
Open water, open water!
Storm shall be the overcomer
Sweeping on from others' summer
Billows free all foes to swallow,-
Crash and fall and sinking follow.
Open water, open water!
Mirrored mountains are appearing,
Boats with steam and sail are nearing,
Inward come the wide world's surges,
Outward joy of combat urges.
Open water, open water!
Fiery sun and cooling shower
Quicken earth to speak with power.
Soul responds, the wonder viewing:
Strength is here for life's renewing.
poem by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Wooing Of Gheezis
The red chief Gheezis, chief of the golden wampum, lay
And watched the west-wind blow adrift the clouds,
With breath all flowery, that from his calumet
Curl'd like to smoke about the mountain tops.
Gheezis look'd from his wigwam, blue as little pools
Drained from the restless mother-wave, that lay
Dreaming in golden hollows of her sands;
And deck'd his yellow locks with feath'ry clouds,
And took his pointed arrows and so stoop'd
And leaning with his red hands on the hills,
Look'd with long glances all along the earth.
'Mudjekeewis, West-Wind, in amongst the forest,
'I see a maid, gold-hued as maize full ripe; her eyes
'Laugh under the dusk boughs like watercourses;
'Her moccasins are wrought with threads of light: her hands
'Are full of blue eggs of the robin, and of buds
'Of lilies, and green spears of rice: O Mudjekeewis,
'Who is the maid, gold-hued as maize full-ripen'd?'
'O sun, O Gheezis, that is Spring, is Segwun--woo her!'
'I cannot, for she hides behind the behmagut--
'The thick leav'd grape-vine, and there laughs upon me.'
'O Gheezis,' cried Segwun from behind the grape-vine.
'Thy arms are long but all too short to reach me,
'Thou art in heaven and I upon the earth!'
Gheezis, with long, golden fingers tore the grape-vine,
But Segwun laughed upon him from behind
A maple, shaking little leaves of gold fresh-budded.
'Gheezis, where are thy feet, O sun, O chief?'
'Follow,' sigh'd Mudjekeewis, 'Gheezis must wed
'With Spring, with Segwun, or all nature die.'
The red chief Gheezis swift ran down the hills,
And as he ran the pools and watercourses
Snatch'd at his yellow hair; the thickets caught
Its tendrils on their brambles; and the buds
That Segwun dropp'd, opened as they touched.
His moccasins were flame, his wampum gold;
His plumes were clouds white as the snow, and red
As Sumach in the moon of falling leaves.
He slipp'd beside the maple, Segwun laugh'd.
'O Gheezis, I am hid amid the lily-pads,
'And thou hast no canoe to seek me there; farewell!'
'I see thine eyes, O Segwun, laugh behind the buds;
'The Manitou is love, and gives me love, and love
'Gives all of power.' His moccasins wide laid
Red tracks upon the waves: When Segwun leap'd
Gold-red and laughing from the lily-pads,
To flit before him like a fire-fly, she found
The golden arms of Gheezis round her cast, the buds
Burst into flower in her hands, and all the earth
Laughing where Gheezis look'd; and Mudjekeewis,
Heart friend of Gheezis, laugh'd, 'Now life is come
'Since Segwun and red Gheezis wed and reign!'
poem by Isabella Valancy Crawford
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Seasons of the Heart
The different hues that deck the earth
All in our bosoms have their birth;
'Tis not in the blue or sunny skies,
'Tis in the heart the summer lies!
The earth is bright if that be glad,
Dark is the earth if that be sad:
And thus I feel each weary day-
'Tis winter all when thou'rt away!
In vain, upon her emerald car,
Comes Spring, 'the maiden from afar,'
And scatters o'er the woods and fields
The liberal gifts that nature yields;
In vain the buds begin to grow,
In vain the crocus gilds the snow;
I feel no joy though earth be gay-
'Tis winter all when thou'rt away!
And when the Autumn crowns the year,
And ripened hangs the golden ear,
And luscious fruits of ruddy hue
The bending boughs are glancing through,
When yellow leaves from sheltered nooks
Come forth and try the mountain brooks,
Even then I feel, as there I stray-
'Tis winter all when thou'rt away!
And when the winter comes at length,
With swaggering gait and giant strength,
And with his strong arms in a trice
Binds up the streams in chains of ice,
What need I sigh for pleasures gone,
The twilight eve, the rosy dawn?
My heart is changed as much as they-
'Tis winter all when thou'rt away!
Even now, when Summer lends the scene
Its brightest gold, its purest green,
Whene'er I climb the mountain's breast,
With softest moss and heath-flowers dress'd,
When now I hear the breeze that stirs
The golden bells that deck the furze,
Alas! unprized they pass away-
'Tis winter all when thou'rt away!
But when thou comest back once more,
Though dark clouds hang and loud winds roar,
And mists obscure the nearest hills,
And dark and turbid roll the rills,
Such pleasures then my breast shall know,
That summer's sun shall round me glow;
Then through the gloom shall gleam the May-
'Tis winter all when thou'rt away!
poem by Denis Florence MacCarthy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ocean Blue
Well you took me home
And you took me back
But deep down inside
The feeling just died and i
Couldnt see why
From indigo to royal blue
I travel far but no one will do
Anytime, anyplace
Every shape every face
Brings memories of you
Blue to be blue
To be blue
Ocean blue
Blue to be blue
To be blue
Ocean blue - ocean blue
Fair weather friends might drift away
When summer ends and skies burn grey
So I walk to the ocean
Pilot these shores
Just thinking of you
Its time we kissed the clouds goodbye
From now on its strictly blue sky
Come rain and shine
The outlook is still fine
Im thinking of you
Blue to be blue
To be blue
Ocean blue
Blue to be blue
To be blue
Ocean blue - ocean blue
Blue to be blue
To be blue
Ocean blue, ocean blue
Ocean blue, ocean blue
Ocean blue, ocean blue
Ocean blue, ocean ocean
Ocean, ocean
Blue to be blue
To be blue
Ocean blue
Blue to be blue
To be blue
Ocean blue - ocean blue
I stand at the head of the queue
Theres mutinys every crew
Wishin and wonderin bout you
Ocean blue
song performed by by Abc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Sea
THE SEA! the sea! the open sea!
The blue, the fresh, the ever free!
Without a mark, without a bound,
It runneth the earth’s wide regions round;
It plays with the clouds; it mocks the skies;
Or like a cradled creature lies.
I ’m on the sea! I ’m on the sea!
I am where I would ever be;
With the blue above, and the blue below,
And silence wheresoe’er I go;
If a storm should come and awake the deep,
What matter? I shall ride and sleep.
I love, O, how I love to ride
On the fierce, foaming, bursting tide,
When every mad wave drowns the moon
Or whistles aloft his tempest tune,
And tells how goeth the world below,
And why the sou’west blasts do blow.
I never was on the dull, tame shore,
But I lov’d the great sea more and more,
And backwards flew to her billowy breast,
Like a bird that seeketh its mother’s nest;
And a mother she was, and is, to me;
For I was born on the open sea!
The waves were white, and red the morn,
In the noisy hour when I was born;
And the whale it whistled, the porpoise roll’d,
And the dolphins bared their backs of gold;
And never was heard such an outcry wild
As welcom’d to life the ocean-child!
I ’ve liv’d since then, in calm and strife,
Full fifty summers, a sailor’s life,
With wealth to spend and a power to range,
But never have sought nor sighed for change;
And Death, whenever he comes to me,
Shall come on the wild, unbounded sea!
poem by Barry Cornwall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Earth Waxeth Old.
When yellow-lock'd and crystal ey'd
I dream'd green woods among;
Where tall trees wav'd from side to side,
And in their green breasts deep and wide,
I saw the building blue jay hide,
O, then the earth was young!
The winds were fresh and brave and bold,
The red sun round and strong;
No prophet voice chill, loud and cold,
Across my woodland dreamings roll'd,
'The green earth waxeth sere and old,
That once was fair and young!'
I saw in scarr'd and knotty bole,
The fresh'ning of the sap;
When timid spring gave first small dole,
Of sunbeams thro' bare boughs that stole,
I saw the bright'ning blossoms roll,
From summer's high pil'd lap.
And where an ancient oak tree lay
The forest stream across,
I mus'd above the sweet shrill spray,
I watch'd the speckl'd trout at play,
I saw the shadows dance and sway
On ripple and on moss.
I pull'd the chestnut branches low,
As o'er the stream they hung,
To see their bursting buds of snow--
I heard the sweet spring waters flow--
My heart and I we did not know
But that the earth was young!
I joy'd in solemn woods to see,
Where sudden sunbeams clung,
On open space of mossy lea,
The violet and anemone,
Wave their frail heads and beckon me--
Sure then the earth was young!
I heard the fresh wild breezes birr,
New budded boughs among,
I saw the deeper tinting stir
In the green tassels of the fir,
I heard the pheasant rise and whirr,
Above her callow young.
I saw the tall fresh ferns prest,
By scudding doe and fawn;
I say the grey dove's swelling breast,
Above the margin of her nest;
When north and south and east and west
Roll'd all the red of dawn.
At eventide at length I lay,
On grassy pillow flung;
I saw the parting bark of day,
With crimson sails and shrouds all gay,
With golden fires drift away,
The billowy clouds among.
I saw the stately planets sail
On that blue ocean wide;
I saw blown by some mystic gale,
Like silver ship in elfin tale,
That bore some damsel rare and pale,
The moon's slim crescent glide.
And ev'ry throb of spring
The rust'ling boughs among,
That filled the silver vein of brook,
That lit with bloom the mossy nook,
Cried to my boyish bosom: 'Look!
How fresh the earth and young!'
The winds were fresh, the days as clear
As crystals set in gold.
No shape, with prophet-mantle drear,
Thro' those old woods came drifting near,
To whisper in my wond'ring ear,
'The green earth waxeth old.'
poem by Isabella Valancy Crawford
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Colors Of The Wind
You think you own whatever land you land on
The earth is just a dead thing you can claim
But I know evry rock and tree and creature
Has a life, has a spirit, has a name
You think the only people who are people
Are the people who look and think like you
But if you walk the footsteps of a stranger
Youll learn things you never knew you never knew
Have you ever heard the wolf cry to the blue corn moon
Or asked the grinning bobcat why he grinned ?
Can you sing with all the voices of the mountain ?
Can you paint with all the colors of the wind ?
Can you paint with all the colors of the wind ?
Come run the hidden pine trails of the forest
Come taste the sun-sweet berries of the earth
Come roll in all the riches all around you
And for once, never wonder what theyre worth
The rainstorm and the river are my brothers
The heron and the otter are my friends
In a cirle, in a hoop that never ends
Have you ever heard the wolf cry to the blue corn moon
Or let the eagle tell you there hes been
Can you sing with all the voices of the mountain ?
Can you paint with all the colors of the wind ?
Can you paint with all the colors of the wind ?
How high does the sycamore grow ?
If you cut it down, then youll never know
And youll never hear the wolf cry to the blue corn moon
For whether we are white or copper-skinned
We just sing with all the voices of the mountain
Need to paint with all the colors of the wind
You can own the earth and still
All youll own is earth until
You can paint with all colors of the wind
song performed by by Vanessa Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sydney Harbour
Where Hornby, like a mighty fallen star,
Burns through the darkness with a splendid ring
Of tenfold light, and where the awful face
Of Sydney’s northern headland stares all night
O’er dark, determined waters from the east,
From year to year a wild, Titanic voice
Of fierce aggressive sea shoots up and makes, —
When storm sails high through drifts of driving sleet,
And in the days when limpid waters glass
December’s sunny hair and forest face, —
A roaring down by immemorial caves,
A thunder in the everlasting hills.
But calm and lucid as an English lake,
Beloved by beams and wooed by wind and wing,
Shut in from tempest-trampled wastes of wave,
And sheltered from white wraths of surge by walls —
Grand ramparts founded by the hand of God,
The lordly Harbour gleams. Yea, like a shield
Of marvellous gold dropped in his fiery flight
By some lost angel in the elder days,
When Satan faced and fought Omnipotence,
It shines amongst fair, flowering hills, and flows
By dells of glimmering greenness manifold.
And all day long, when soft-eyed Spring comes round
With gracious gifts of bird and leaf and grass —
And through the noon, when sumptuous Summer sleeps
By yellowing runnels under beetling cliffs,
This royal water blossoms far and wide
With ships from all the corners of the world.
And while sweet Autumn with her gipsy face
Stands in the gardens, splashed from heel to thigh
With spinning vine-blood — yea, and when the mild,
Wan face of our Australian Winter looks
Across the congregated southern fens,
Then low, melodious, shell-like songs are heard
Beneath proud hulls and pompous clouds of sail,
By yellow beaches under lisping leaves
And hidden nooks to Youth and Beauty dear,
And where the ear may catch the counter-voice
Of Ocean travelling over far, blue tracts.
Moreover, when the moon is gazing down
Upon her lovely reflex in the wave,
(What time she, sitting in the zenith, makes
A silver silence over stirless woods),
Then, where its echoes start at sudden bells,
And where its waters gleam with flying lights,
The haven lies, in all its beauty clad,
More lovely even than the golden lakes
The poet saw, while dreaming splendid dreams
Which showed his soul the far Hesperides.
poem by Henry Kendall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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