En.Citatepedia^®.ro

The poetess, the moon...and the woods Pt1

A tear traced a path on her cheek in the moonlight
As her lips brushed the brow of her sleeping child

She stood still for a moment, with eyes closed tightly
Corners of lips pulled up… in a winsome smile

Strode heavily to the open window
stared out into the woods, soft lit by the moon

Then with a sigh pulled down the window
And quietly tiptoed out of the room

Glanced in at her husband, long asleep in their bed
And in her mind gave him a kiss on the top of his head

Then sat at her desk and finished her poem
Sat back and reviewed it… one last time

It was about her life… and about her home
And about the glow of the woods in the moonshine

She nodded her head… as if in agreement
With the words that she had carefully, composed

Her finger touched “enter” with determined intent
Then her whole body slumped in repose

From the corners of her eyes, she saw the moon rise
Oe’r the woods from out of her window

A teardropp fell softly to her desk as she stood
And walked through the door for the very last time

She looked up at the moon and then strode into the woods
She had posted her last poem…her very last rhyme

poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Matilda Said

Matilda closed the door. Matilda
Saw Millie by the window. Her maid’s
Uniform looked tight at the rear. She
Wanted to place her arms around her
Waist, kiss her neck. Millie turned and
Said, He’s out there with Mrs Dimmable.
Matilda walked to the window and stared.
She sensed Millie beside her; heard her
Breathing, the brush of her sleeve against
Her arm. Looks happy enough, Matilda said
Of Mrs. Dimmable. You didn’t sleep too well
Last night, Millie said, turning, going to the
Bed. She pulled back the covers, smoothed
Out the sheet. Matilda went around the other
Side of the bed and looked at Millie. You were
Tossing and turning, Millie said looking up.
Matilda helped make the bed and said, Sorry
About that. Millie stared at Matilda and said
You murmured words. Did I? Matilda replied.
Yes, Millie said, looking at her hands. What did
I say? Matilda asked. You muttered my name.
Millie stood back from the bed, gazed at Matilda.
You said things. What things? Said you loved me.
Millie blushed at the words. Matilda patted the
Pillow but said nothing. She brushed her hands
Over the covers, pushed away creases. She paused.
Looked at the window. Smelt the flowers in a vase.
Do you? Millie asked. Love me? Matilda stared
Out at Mrs Dimmable and the new gardener.
Her lips wanted to move but nothing came.
Her eyes watered. The world was awash. Millie
Walked to the window, put her arms around Matilda’s
Waist, her fingers formed a knot on Matilda’s stomach.
Matilda placed her hands over Millie’s.
They do look in love and contented don’t they?
Millie said over Matilda’s shoulder. Matilda’s sensed
The warm breath. Yes, she said, they do. Do you?
Millie’s breath uttered softly into her ear, yes.

poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Some Days After School

Some days after school
having slipped by her mother's vision

she met you in the back woods
by the pool

and you were there
in the your tee shirt and jeans

and she stood there
for a moment

in her blouse and skirt
and you stared at each other

taking in the beauty
you saw there

enjoying the moment
the big now

shutting out the bird song
the rabbits by the trees

the far off sound of traffic
and she broke out and said

had a job get by her scanner eyes
had to slip out

before she gave out the chores
and she came over to you

standing there
and stood real close

so that you could sense her body
just about touching yours

her perfume teasing
your nostrils

stirring your body
and then she closed her eyes

and kissed your lips
and it was like

a first day of creation
as if God had said

there you go
feel the love

sense the glow
and you did

and it seemed an eternity
but was merely minutes

glued and touched
and wet and warm

then you sensed
the rain coming

and distant storm
and then the raindrops

hit the pool like small bullets
and grabbing her hand

you ran through the trees
away from the pool

carrying the memory of a kiss
and a bird's lone call.

poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Moon of the fourteenth

Behind the clouds when the moon slipped
The light then hid in the shadows
I felt your lips then on my cheek
As you lifted my finger to the sky
We wrote our name on the stars
Not for luck but for us to remember
On lonely nights someday
Things that we did in the moonlit nights
When u turned my face and touched
Those pink lips again the moon rose from the east
Like sun your eyes shone with passion
The tear now I shed was long gone
Whispered the moon of the fourteenth

sequel to poem 'moon of the fourteenth' by poet sadiqullah khan

poem by Reshma Ramesh
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Is She In Love?

Is she in love with you
or what? Reynard said

indicating across
at the girl

at the other side
of the classroom

every time I look up
she's peering over

here like some hawk
after prey

he added
and you guessed

she was
but didn't say

to Reynard
who thought

all thoughts on love
were dumb

or should be left
between pages

of Shakespeare
or Keats

or maybe just
a cover word for

a fumble behind
bike sheds or woods

maybe she just likes
the way I comb my hair

you replied
looking down

at the science book
open on the desk

and by the way
he said

how much grease
you got on your hair

you look like
you fell in the darn jar?

Tooley the science teacher
looked your way

and Reynard clamped up
and began writing

in his book
and in between

scribbling words
in the exercise book

you glanced over at her
and took in her eyes

and that smile of hers
and smiled kind of

weakly back
and she mouthed

something to you
her lips making odd shapes

like some fish
out of water

and you tried to lip read
but it didn't make sense

so you just nodded
and hoped you'd not agreed

to anything
that her scary mother

wouldn't agree to
and then looked away

back to the science book
and life dull

and uninteresting books
full of boring questions

and Tooley at front
of the class

writing on the board
her fat ass moving

as she wrote
like some aging stripper

on her last show
and outside

the window
grey clouds

carrying
heavy snow.

poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Optical Illusion

Optical Illusion

It was an old rabbit, glass eyed and stuffed, that sat on
a window sill it also had a bald spot on top of its head,
petted by children who knew it was alive. The window it
sat by faced the woods and on a day when window was
open, and it was a day in May, it vanished. Hunters had
seen it jump through the air fast as a midnight shadow.
A rich man bought the woods chopped down trees and
filled in the tarn, where it often had been seen smiling to
its own image. This so he could get a trophy on his wall
and be famous as the man who shot the phantom rabbit.
He went insane all he could find was a yellow plastic duck.
A stuffed rabbit sits on the window sill it has glass eyes,
a bald spot on top of its head; snowing outside it deeply
sighs good to be indoors on a day like this.

poem by Oskar Hansen
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Rainy Day Under Trees

She stood with you
under the trees

the rain falling hard
the Sunday church service

had been a wet affair
the walk home together

then the bus
to the end of the road

and she said
Is it ever going to stop?

her hair was limp
and hung over

her forehead
her eyes bright

her complexion white
Sure

you said
But I've built an ark

in the woods behind
just in case

and she laughed
and took your hand

and said
How any animals

have you got so far?
Couple of woodlice

and beetles
and the odd worm or so

and you smelt
the scent on her

the warmth
of her hand

in yours and you both
under the trees

out of the rain
but the drops fell through

You remember that time
we went to the hay barn

to keep out of the rain
and we were wet through

and took of our clothes
and lay in the hay?

she said
snuggling closer to you

No can't say I do
you said

and she smack your arm
and said

Oh yes you do
and there was a break out

from the sun
through the branches

as if you say
I' still here

I'm trying to get through
and she looked at you

and you smiled
and said

I can still smell the hay
and you lying there

beside me
and the damp clothes

hanging over the hay bale
and you and I close

and warmth
and then she put

her finger to her lips
and shushed you

and drops of rain
came onto her head

Let's keep it kind of holy
she said

and kissed your damp ear
her lips like a blessing

soft skin on soft skin
and she moved away

and the rain eased
and you both moved out

into the woods
pleased.

poem by Terry Collett
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Sharing Same Moon Makes Our Love Eternal

I am sitting at my window watching,
It's night, moon is glowing like a queen of sky,
I know you are too far away to feel me,
But in same time we are sharing the same moon.

How many words i wish i tell you,
How much i want that you to hold my hand,
And rest my head on your shoulder,
Comforting my crying eyes with your tender kiss.

I am looking to the moon, i feel so lonely,
You are too far away to feel my pain,
I know you think of me in moonlight,
When looking at the moon we share our dream.

Is nothing else to compare in my life,
As your eyes shinning to me like stars in the darkness,
I have the feeling you belong to me,
Sharing same moon makes our love eternal.

poem by Cristina Teodor
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The Star outside my window

It was late
I couldn't sleep
The moon lit night was seaping through my window seam
i quietly rolled over on my tummy
as i gazed out at the starry night
i felt so small and weak looking at the millions of stars
just then one star caught my eyes
It was the biggest most spectacular star in the sky
at first i thought it couldn't possibly be a star
i sat still for minutes staring at it
it didn't move
not once
so i closed my eyes in the dead of night
and carefully made my wish to the star outside my fogged up window
i layed back down my eyes blinking shut
a smile on my face
i fell asleep with the sweet though that it might actually come true
that star still shines outside my window every night
my wish never came true

poem by Deja Noelle Rupp
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The Green Woods Of Truagh

In the green woods of Truagh we met without fear,
Your kiss on my lips, and your voice in my ear,
Your tender arms about me, and your eyes glad and clear–
Ochón, the Green Woods of Truagh!

In the green woods of Truagh the days go on wings,
On every brown branch a gladsome bird sings
And the fragrant amber blossom of the honey-suckle swings–
Ochón, the Green Woods of Truagh!

In the green woods of Truagh the bracken stands high,
And wells of spring-water in deep hollows lie,
And the red deer is browsing in the cool shadows nigh–
Ochón, the Green Woods of Truagh!

In the green woods of Truagh no sorrow dared stay,
The lark called me early at dawn o' the day,
And o'er my sleep at night pleasant dreams used to play–
Ochón, the Green Woods of Truagh!

In the green woods of Truagh you wait till I come–
I left home and you for the stranger's far home,
To bring a hoard of yellow gold across the grey foam–
Ochón, the Green Woods of Truagh!

In the green woods of Truagh–if God hears my prayer–
I shall reach you, O true love, my empty hands there,
For little of the yellow gold has fallen to my share–
Ochón, the Green Woods of Truagh!

In the green woods of Truagh–your heart on my own,
And your bright hair in ringlets across my cheek blown
Now where in all the wide, wide world, could greater bliss be known?
Ochón, the Green Woods of Truagh!

poem by Anna Johnston MacManus
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The Long Way Home

Tiny squeaks from the snow
As if I’d stepped
upon a mouse

The temperature hovers at zero
A walk sounded nice…
Before I left the house

I gave it thought
For about a moment
Trying to decide…yes or no

But a long look
out the window
made me bundle up and go

The bare limbs and sere winds
Beckoned me deep
into the woods

While the piquant prickle
Of pins and needles
Bade me snugly pull up my hood

I thought only to take
A short brisk
Moonlight walkabout

But the blue of the moon
Highlighting crystals of snow
Gave me pause as to why I was out

I embraced the cold, kissed the wind,
Held the moon… and felt the snow
As my own

I inhaled deeply of the winter
Looked back at my warm abode
And decided instead…to take

…the long way home…

poem by David Whalen
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Better Off On Her Own

My girl came home to me just the other day, acting ok.
I was reading alone in my favourite room, the tv was on.
May I be excused for not telling the truth
cos shes gone, she said shes better off on her own.
She turned her head much better off on her own.
My girl knocked on the door to the place I usually refer to as home.
I died, shoelace untied she looked in my eyes, small and surprised.
And God closed every gaze the moon fell into the lake.
Boy, shes gone, a drift shes better off on her own.
She closed, then she left much better off on her own.
Sitting naked by the windowsill watching cars upon the hill.
Am I sleeping?
I was dreaming for just a moment time stood still.
Better off on her own, better off on her own.
Now shes gone, she said shes better of on her own.
She turned her head much better off on her own.
Shes gone, she sighed shes better of on her own.
The tears I cried much better off on her own.
My girl came home to me just the other day.

song performed by by Roxette
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Voice of Love

After a long solitary confinement
In deep love for someone
I heard a song
A song in the woods
Where I stood
The woods which stood in the solitude

There was nobody
Nobody except me
Nobody heard the song
Which rapped in the woods
Somewhere, but I didn't know where
The song I heard wasn't raspy
Neither soft nor melodious
The song I heard was heart-strucken'd

There was a tone
A tune where you can find
A rapt of love.
The song has given pathogen in me
Who's that guy?
Singing in love
Crying and dying in love?

I listened to the song carefully
Now I found
The lonely woods are in me
And the song I heard
was the voice
The voice of love in me.

poem by D'menz Veen
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One Princess to Another

Sleeping Beauty stroked
Her blonde hair
And sighed and
Longed for the woods

Snow White stared
At her reflection
And watched as
Her face aged and her life faded

Cinderella pulled at
Her long dress
And looked at
The glass shoes of enslavement

And then Cinderella
Found Sleeping Beauty
And asked:
“Did we ever have a choice? ”

Sleeping Beauty went
To Snow White
And told her:
“I hate my life.”

Then they went
Home to the princes
Who owned them
Because they were the first to kiss them

Cinderella broke her glass slippers
And ran away from the prince
With a nice teacher from the village
Leaving behind a note and glass slippers

Sleeping Beauty
Bore her prince a son
Before she turned to the woods
And never came out again

Snow White took
A poison apple from the
Wicked Witch’s dungeon and bit down into it
And died this time

poem by Elizabeth Rebel
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Full Moon By My Window

full moon by my window

dark night as hair
light and warm her body

full moon by my window
i bathe in love

full moon by my window
i breathe happiness

full moon by my window
she is fast asleep in my arms

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Brooklyn Roads

Written by: neil diamond
If I close my eyes
I can almost hear my mother
Callin, neil, go find your brother
Daddys home, and its time for supper
Hurry on
And I see two boys
Racin up two flights of staircase
Squirmin into papas embrace
And his whiskers warm on their face
Wheres it gone
Oh, wheres it gone
Two floors above the butcher
First door on the right
Life filled to the brim
As I stood by my window
And looked out on those
Brooklyn roads
I can still recall
The smell of cookin in the hallways
Rubber drying in the doorways
And report cards I was always
Afraid to show
Mamad come to school
And as Id sit there softly crying
Teacherd say, hes just not trying
Hes got a good head if hed apply it
But you know yourself
Its always somewhere else
I built me a castle
With dragons and kings
And Id ride off with them
As I stood by my window
And looked out on those
Brooklyn roads
Thought of going back
But all Id see are strangers faces
And all the scars that love erases
But as my mind walks thru those places
Im wonderin
Whats come of them
Does some other young boy
Come home to my room
Does he dream what I did
As he stands by my window
And looks out on those
Brooklyn roads

song performed by by Neil Diamond
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Poem Is A Poem

As I sat in my room,
On my little desk chair,
I began to feel
A hint of despair.

I had for my homework,
A poem to create,
And if it wasen't done then,
It would have been late.

My school, my dog,
A tree or my home,
Which of these subjects,
Should I choose for my poem?

You can see for yourself,
That my problem was bad,
No poem could I think of,
My; this was sad.

As I sat there and gazed,
A thought came to mind:
A poem is a poem,
Just as long as it rhymes.

So I wrote down some words,
And tossed them around,
Until they rhymed nicely,
And had a smooth sound.

My poem was all finished,
My homework all done,
It wasen't bad after all,
It even was fun!

Longfellow, Whitman,
Robert Frost too,
I've discovered there secret
That all of them knew.

A poem is no problem,
It takes not much time,
You write down your thoughts,
In a way that will rhyme.

poem by Sarah Stopka
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Ode To A Robert Frost Poem

I thought I took the road less taken.
But I guess I was mistaken.
When the two paths diverged in the woods; I pondered at which path I must take.
I took the path to my left in the woods; Was it the right path to take?
It was not, but I digress.
Why must I deal will all this stress?
As I sit and try to recall all of the words from the poem Frost once wrote, I must emote.
This ode to that grand old poem that Frost once wrote.
The name of that Robert Frost poem is 'The Rode Not Taken'.
As I write this ode to a Robert Frost's poem, the words he wrote be not mistaken.
I thought I took the path less taken.
I will now end this ode to go eat some bacon.

poem by Nichole Kaci McKnight
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Empty Spaces

In a room long left vacant, he sits at the window looking out, cobwebs adorn the room like Christmas decorations. The window glass dirty from neglect.
In his reverie he hears the joy now past, sounds of fun and laughter. Long gone but not forgotten.
A movement in the corner of his eye, a glimpse of a reflection in the window pane, but he learnt long ago not to focus on them as they would vanish.
Darkness falls and the moon rises over the garden and casts it glow on her face, she has returned to him again this evening to bestow her smile on him, her lips move, no sound, but words perfect, fall upon his ears.
Without him turning she stands beside him, slips her hand in his, just to let him know.

poem by Robert Green
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Under Moonshine

The dawn crept into by room
And stole my dream
Now Ill never know
Just what it means
Or what could have been
Yet still I try to lie
But Im seen
Under moonshine thats where Ive been
Under moonshine Im clearly seen
Under moonshine thats where Ive been
Under moonshine Im clearly seen
Creator of dreams that melt with the sun
Ill send you the things this man has done
He was a saint and a sinner rolled in one
But I miss now that hes gone
I sure miss him now that hes gone
Sure I feel the pain
Deep inside I pour like rain
Remember when you smile
Loves in your eyes
The world keeps turning
The grass still grows green
The fruit on my tree
Is the biggest youve ever seen
Which way up you know when youre down
Theyve gotta stand tall
With your feet on the ground
You must stand tall
With your feet on the ground
Or maybe Im crazy
Also they say Im lazy
But Ill have my days
When I do as I please
For you wont see the woods
While youre a tree
No youll never see the woods
While youre a tree
Yes Im crazy
Also they say Im lazy
But Ill have my days
When I do as I please
You wont see the woods
While youre a tree
No youll never see the woods
While youre a tree

song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Courting Disaster

I was twenty-three when I saw her first,
Without a word of a lie,
She had wandered into the woods by me
With a basket, held on high,
Her auburn hair reflected the sun
And she flashed me a dazzling smile,
That turned my head to the way she led
As I followed her, over the stile.

She skipped along at a steady pace
Weaved in and out through the trees,
Collected the broad-rimmed mushrooms there
As she stopped, and fell to her knees,
Her dress flared out as it caught the wind
And her hair was floated wide,
I hid by a tree, and held my breath
As I thought of her, as a bride.

She had such a look of innocence,
Was free as the birds of the air,
The legs and the grace of a peasant girl
Brought up in the great out-there,
She ran right up to a Woodsman's house
That was hidden by branch and vine,
Then danced right in through the open door,
And then I knew; she was mine!

The door was closed when I finally knocked
But I heard a terrible moan,
And minutes later the door unlocked,
In the hall stood a fusty crone,
She stared at me through her hoary eyes
With never a hint of grace,
‘What do you want? ' she growled at me,
For the shock must have shown in my face.

‘That girl, who danced in a moment back,
I'm here to discover her name.'
‘There is no girl, ' said the ancient hack,
‘You'd better return where you came! '
‘I saw her enter, I must insist,
I'll not be gulled by your lies! '
‘That girl's been dead for a long time back,
You'd better leave now, if you're wise! '

She slammed the door in my face just then
So I wandered back through the trees,
A raincloud covered the midday sun
And I felt the chill of a breeze,
The rain came down as I walked back home,
Climbed over the ricketty stile,
Was drenched to the skin as I wandered in,
And thought to resort to guile.

For days I lingered by that old track,
The place that I'd seen her first,
I felt so miserable, holding back,
As I thought, and feared for the worst,
What if the girl was a sprite, who'd died,
Just as the old crone said?
Try as I might, I couldn't believe,
Nor get her out of my head.

I finally went to the Woodsman's house
And I hid in a patch by the vine,
When suddenly out of the door came tripping
The girl, with her eyes a-shine,
She skipped away with her basket, filled
With linen and loaves and cheese,
And I caught her then in a shady glade
As she stopped, and fell to her knees.

‘I hoped you'd come, ' were the words she said
As she laid a cloth on the ground,
‘I have to hide from that grey old witch
So I go where I'll never be found.'
She broke the bread and she poured the wine
And we ate and drank in the glade,
My mind was filled with a sudden chill
But I thought of fun in the shade.

‘So when are you going to kiss me, then? '
She said when we finished our feast,
‘I've fed your animal spirits, now,
It's time I was paid, at least! '
I kissed her there in the shady glade
And we tumbled there in the leaves,
Then I fell asleep, and she'd gone when I
Awoke, and the heart, it grieves.

I stumbled home, but was feeling faint
I had aches and pains in my head,
I staggered through to the bedroom, then
I found her asleep in my bed,
She woke and sat, and she stared at me
But her face had begun to change,
There were lines and wrinkles around her eyes
And her hair was grey with age.

‘I need you now that my time is short,
Come and rest your weary head, '
I caught a glimpse in the mirror then
And it filled me full of dread,
For the face of a man of middle age
Stared back at me from the glass,
‘Just what have to done to me? ' I said…
‘Do you really have to ask? '

‘I fed on your animal needs, and you
Gave something to set me free,
If you want me to be a bright young thing
Then you must replenish me.'
I saw she aged by the minute there
And she soon let out a moan,
For lying in bed was a figure of dread,
That hoary old witch, the crone!

I'm far too weak to get out of bed,
But Elli goes out on her own,
She carries her basket into the wood
For the mushrooms she eats alone,
My beard is grey and I dread each day
As she bleeds my life from its core,
But she's as lovely as ever she was
At a hundred and twenty-four!

26 October 2012

poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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