Bearing the Light
Rain-diamonds, this winter morning, embellish the tangle of unpruned pear-tree twigs; each solitaire, placed, it appearrs, with considered judgement, bears the light beneath the rifted clouds -- the indivisible shared out in endless abundance.
poem by Denise Levertov
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Reservation For One
This is my tree, my tree, my tree,
My one lone tree, pear tree,
It grows, overflows, it grows it’s fruit,
Alone, only for me.
If I could go to a far-away place,
With just me and my tree, pear tree,
I’d pack my bags, my bags I’d pack,
I’d pick up my bags and flee.
There’s nothing at all, no nothing,
At all, that films me more with glee,
Than those globes, those globes,
Of precious fruit in my tree, pear tree.
I sit beneath, beneath I sit,
Its laden canopy, I polish it’s leafs then,
Set a table of fruits,
Of wine, and bread and brie.
This tree, my tree, could feed the world,
Find me a wife and camaraderie,
It’s powers, it’s powers are vast but I
Can’t pass on its secret sadly.
I’d tell the world, the world I’d tell,
If they weren’t all so hungry, you see.
But my fruit, my fruits, my laboured.
Fruits, I grew only for me, for me,
No none are as hungry as me.
poem by Suzanne Louise Bishop
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July The First
The grey roos sheltering beneath the pine trees it is a wet and a wintery Winter's day
Yet in the rain the magpie he is piping on a high branch of a tall mountain gray
And yet the weather is not cold or chilly it does not seem a bad start to July
The Winter sun by the rain is hidden and overcast looking the morning sky
The Southern Winter I feel is far more pleasant than the Southern Summer at least the weather never gets too cold
That I do find mild Winter days a bit chilly has to be proof I must be getting old
On the Winter flowering trees the red wattlebirds are calling they have a certain hoarseness in their cry
And the pied currawongs the dark crow sized birds their karrawang notes are uttering as through the park from tree to tree they fly,
The white cockatoos in the drizzling rain are squawking from other birds them one cannot mistake
They are at their noisiest in the gloam of evening and in the early morning at daybreak
Three species of white cockatoo the sulphur crested and long billed and short billed corella by voice and appearance from each other not hard to identify
They live in large flocks and to each other nearby,
The rain drizzling down from a sky that's gloomy gray
But for July the first it is mild enough for a Winter's day.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Idea Of 'Pear Tree
for Robin Blaser
a pear tree forgets only itself as
an audacity
limbs recall themselves
appear to reach
one cannot see them
reaching
they may be silent but
we cannot know that toward
later sweetness they yearn
then seed a still dirt around
content to lie down
the idea of 'pear tree'
reduces to all sparks
yet
no illusion of darkness
hastens the pear
but O it tastes
poem by Warren Falcon
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The Inward Morning
Packed in my mind lie all the clothes
Which outward nature wears,
And in its fashion's hourly change
It all things else repairs.
In vain I look for change abroad,
And can no difference find,
Till some new ray of peace uncalled
Illumes my inmost mind.
What is it gilds the trees and clouds,
And paints the heavens so gay,
But yonder fast-abiding light
With its unchanging ray?
Lo, when the sun streams through the wood,
Upon a winter's morn,
Where'er his silent beams intrude,
The murky night is gone.
How could the patient pine have known
The morning breeze would come,
Or humble flowers anticipate
The insect's noonday hum--
Till the new light with morning cheer
From far streamed through the aisles,
And nimbly told the forest trees
For many stretching miles?
I've heard within my inmost soul
Such cheerful morning news,
In the horizon of my mind
Have seen such orient hues,
As in the twilight of the dawn,
When the first birds awake,
Are heard within some silent wood,
Where they the small twigs break,
Or in the eastern skies are seen,
Before the sun appears,
The harbingers of summer heats
Which from afar he bears.
poem by Henry David Thoreau
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Not Finished
A perfect night
the stars are sparkling bright
staring into the sky,
the little house in the creek
sits nestled under the tall mossy tree
the house aged by nature...beautiful
as the rain starts to pour
the tall mossy tree protects the house and its front door
the mossy tree bears the weight of the sky
as the house is kept dry
more clouds swarm in recklessly
lightning cracks as it sets fire to the tall mossy tree
the tree stands strong....
but i doesn't know if it can last long
as the rain runs down the tree's trunk and roots
like tears
poem by Wandering Scarlet
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Winter Rainy Day
It is still raining
It is pouring rain
It is chilly and windy
It is winter day
The thick dark clouds
hanging over the sky
The gloom fills the air
You hear the humming sound
of falling rain
It is winter day
The sun behind the clouds
have shied and disappeared
The blue sky have been
painted gray
It is winter day
Winter is magical time of the year
When nature sheds it’s tears
Filling us with emotions
Bringing water
to the land and lakes
Just a reason we thank
The winter rainy day
poem by Sherif Monem
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Winter-Strike
Winter gray the light of day,
winter-gray snow-melt still on the ground
drawn the winter, long the week,
Monday-gray through Saturday.
Saturday night a freezing rain
left a Sunday washed anew
in snow pock-crusted lacy frosted
gleaming bright in the winter crisp.
Chatter-clatter clickety-tackety / hey, what is that sound?
Spin around with a cocking ear / hey, where is that sound?
Look up, look up to the highest trees!
Diamond-fierce the topmost branches
sheathed in ice — slicing in the wind — twigs all
sparkling rattling swaying shining pierce my heart.
I was eight and we were late to church
that Sunday, day of days
that first and best of all days since —
when tree ice beauty blew me sacred joy.
poem by Gloria Kim
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Diamonds and Rust
I'll be damned, here comes your ghost again
but that's not unusual
it's just that the moon is full
and you decided to come
And here I sit, hand on the telephone
hearing the voice I'd known
a couple of light years ago
headed straight for a fall
But we both know what memories can bring
they bring Diamonds and Rust
yes we both know what memories can bring
they bring Diamonds and Rust
Now I see you standing with brown leaves all around and snow in your hair
Now we're smiling out the window of the crummy hotel over washington square
and then comes that white clouds, mingles and hangs in the air
Speaking strictly for me
we both could've died then and there
Now you're telling me you're not nostalgic
then give me another word for it
you were so good with words
and at keeping things paid
cause I need some of that vagueness now, it's all come back too clearly
yes, I love you dearly
and if you're offering me diamonds and rust
I've already paid
But we both know what memories can bring
they bring Diamonds and Rust
yes we both know what memories can bring
they bring Diamonds and Rust
Diamonds, Diamonds and Rust
Diamonds, Diamonds and Rust
Diamonds, Diamonds and Rust
Diamonds, Diamonds and Rust
song performed by by Judas Priest, music by Judas Priest, lyrics by Joan Baez
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Time Decides
an acorn contains the universe,
a moth contains the night.
the flicker and flame
of small twigs burning
returns light to the stars.
the rumble of distant thunder
in every leaf that falls.
a prayer held in every
dropp of rain... a baby
born in the face of
every mountain's movement...
the depth of love raging
beneath the snows of winter....
death, or spring..... time decides....
each has it's own cup!
each has it's own flame!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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An August Morning At Upper Gully
The smoke from the chimneys curled down in the sky
And it's colder and wetter than 'twas in July
And fog o'er the forest a blanket of gray
And darkening rain clouds more showers on the way.
The currawongs calling the dark birds of rain
And into the station roars the city bound train
And cars on the highway racing to and fro
And down the high woodlands the chilly winds blow.
At 7 a.m. and the temperatures low
And it's cold in upper Gully cold enough to snow
Yet on this bleak morning great beauty i see
Bright yellow flowers blooming on the wattle tree.
Their loud cackling laughter one could not mistake
And they call through the morning just after daybreak
On the higher branches of old mountain gray
The kookaburras herald a cold Winter's day.
Three weeks left in August and Spring is so near
On this perhaps the coldest day of the year
And dark rain clouds gather in bleak morning sky
And it's colder and wetter than 'twas in July.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Ripened
Ripened!
But on a wrong tree done.
This hybrid thinks it to be pure,
And naturally sweet.
But the tree adopted it,
From despair.
And convince the nut...
It was a fruited pear.
And when the apples growing,
On the tree became aware...
They were taught to respect the nut!
Although they knew,
Never a pear would be there.
Yet,
Ripened to be spared,
From playful impatient squirrels.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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On Hearing A White Backed Magpie Singing In The Rain
The white backed magpie singing and skies so gloomy gray
And magpie does sound happy on such a gloomy day
But why is magpie happy what reason for his joy
All in the depths of Winter this morning in July? .
The rain come down in torrents and dark clouds o'er the hill
And freshening winds blow colder the breath of winter chill
The raindrops freely running adown the window pane
And still the magpie singing and whistling in the rain.
Why is the magpie singing what reason for his cheer
On this cold day in winter the wettest of the year?
The wettest day of Winter the wind blow cold and strong
And merry magpie singing his distinct happy song.
The white backed magpie piping his happy melody
On wettest day in Winter on rain soaked blackwood tree
And I ponder the question the simple question why?
The magpie feel so happy on wet day in July.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Song Of The Evergreens
Listen to the briskly whistling winter evergreen
Whispering through the frozen morning light
And tell me whats to come
Saying my time is near
Never fear
I close each year
Im winter
Reminding me to trade my t-shirts for my woven wools
Trade my sandals for my skis
Whispered warnings in the wind
Saying soon come the dancing snowflakes
Theyre kissing every tree
Theyre kissing you and me
Please hurry
Falling
Dazzling dancing diamonds from the sky
Prisms
Rainbow sparkled flurries in our eyes
Whipping across the frozen crystal meadow
Pond of ice
Race the snow
Well build a warming fire there
And cuddle close and wine and dine
The setting sun
The morning light will find us high
Shooting down the glistening mountain side
Screaming through the whispering pines
The freedom of each day
Will cleanse our minds
I can hardly wait for winter
I can hardly wait for the snow
I can hardly hardly wait for winter
I can hardly wait for the snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
song performed by by Chicago
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Diamonds Are A Girls Best Friend
(leo robin/jule styne)
A kiss on the hand may be quite continental
But diamonds are a girls best friend
A kiss may be grand but it wont pay the rental
On your humble flat or help you at the automat
Men grow cold as girls grow old
We all lose our charm in the end
But square cut or pear shape
These rocks dont lose their shape
Diamonds are a girls best friend
Yeah diamonds are a girls best friend
Lets rock
There may come a time when a lass needs a lawyer
Diamonds are a girls best friend
There may come a time when a hardboiled employer
Thinks youre awful nice, but get that ice or else no dice
Hes your guy when stocks are high
But beware when they start to descend
Its then that those spouses
And diamonds are a girls best friend
Diamonds are a girls best friend
Yeah diamonds are a girls best friend
Lets rock again
Diamonds are a girls best friend
Diamonds are a girls best friend
Diamonds are a girls best friend
Diamonds are a girls best friend
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Almond Tree
This snowy cold December morning
the pen
is full of almond branches, leaves
and black gnarled twigs covered
with white blossoms
the scent of that tree is intoxicating
for here on the real earth,
such trees do not ripen,
nor bear the fruit of that tree.
As children our first movement is to sing joyous songs,
innocent voices, filling mountains and dales with arias.
As adults our first movement is toward joy,
yet we give it away, venting full expression
to a gloomy tho not unfamiliar view of life.
once delighted with the world as children
now the world is in a tangle,
for opened eyes have seen only the glow of fires,
massacres, injustices, humiliations,
and the unrelenting shame
of braggarts and despots.
I look at the pen, it's branches, twigs, leaves
now covered, with cherry blossoms
and breathe in the intoxicating scent of that tree
knowing full well such a tree does not grow in dirt
nor can humanity cut down that tree.
That tree does not desire to save
nations or people
heal the sick,
raise the dead,
connive with politicians,
nor change drunkards and fools
with songs of hope...
The only goal is this, only this
that I see and smell the almond tree,
learn to look with love,
heal this heart,
without knowing from various ills-
for that almond tree says to me: Friend
stand in the glow of ripeness with me
not knowing what purpose served.
Through worm filled tufts
in that sweet garden
that almond tree raises it's eyes
and every blossom
enjoys the air it breathes
poem by Liberatore Suffoletta
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Endless Summer
There used to be a time that I believed
The soft pouring rain was just the pouring rain, it wasnt me
But every new light that wasnt shiny and bright
Well suspend the storms and the clouds in sight
Of an endless summer
An endless summer
An endless summer to be home
Let me go, wasting time
Let me go waste my time
Once there was a chance that I believed you
A kiss was just a kiss
No matter how I missed you
Shine a light on me
Say a prayer for the relief
From an endless summer
An endless summer
An endless summer to be home
Did we go on too long
Did we listen too close
To a youth built strong
With things children shouldnt know
And the fall out from your third degrees
Of broken chairs and of pedigrees
Where the sons kill sons, and the daughters stay wise
cause when we rule, everybody dies
In an endless summer
An endless summer
An endless summer to be home
Let me go, wasting time
Let me go waste my time
Let me go, wasting time
Let me go waste my time
Now you can disagree
With how I choose to live
But freedom isnt free
Unless you learn how to give
To the summer, summer, summer, yeah
Summer, summer, summer, yeah
Summer, summer, summer, yeah
Summer, summer, summer, yeah
song performed by by Zwan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Morning Light
Say hello to the dawn’s arrival
Open your eyes to a brand new day
Lift your head to feel the sun’s blessing
The morning light will show you the way
The morning light will show you the way
Each gentle ray blesses the living
We all reach out for its energy
Its gentle warmth it will caress you
The morning light will show you the way
The morning light will show you the way
For every tree and every flower
That dances in the sun
For children playing in the daytime
And having their fun
For every broken heart that sees the
Light of day
The morning light will show you the way
The morning light will show you the way
Illuminating all that it touches
Brings out the color of the world
Its warmth it gives us good feelings
The morning light will show us the way
The morning light will show us the way
For every tree and every flower
That dances in the sun
For every childhood smile
That touches everyone
For every life that we are given
For every dream realized
The morning sun will show you the way
The morning sun will show you the way
poem by William Lindenmuth
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15th AUGUST,1998 in INDIA
My sleep got disturbed, thrice that day;
I could not sleep tho’ a holiday;
My mind was filled with thoughts unclear;
I got up in the morn, much earlier;
‘Twas India’s Independence Day!
Thunder, lightning filled the night’s Sky;
The day much overcast did fly;
The Rain was just a drizzle that day;
Wetted the ground of mud and clay;
‘Twas 15th of August, a rainy day.
The pea-birds howled and groaned that night;
The Rain made them shiver with fright;
Though ten, it looked like six in the morn;
The Sun behind the clouds had gone;
The Sky ground-glass remained that day.
The leaky tap-waters that fell,
Raised wavelets, ploppy-toned and swell;
Rain-drops on cables looked like pearls;
Dropped, formed again, enticing souls;
It looked it would rain long that day.
Rain-drops hanging beneath fir-twigs;
Glittered in the scarce light like figs;
The whole tree was aglow, alit;
A thing of beauty, don’t miss it!
The Sky looked like a barred-white board!
A frail, brown-skinned, bony human,
With sack on head, bent-back, he ran!
The Indian was agonizing!
Tho’ people keep sermonizing!
Fifty years after Independence!
What good was done for the common-man?
poem by John Celes
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March Horse Fair Day
The morning has a heavy winter chill
And dark rain clouds move over Clara hill
And the old man says that the rain will bucket down
As he stands holding his horse in the Square at Millstreet Town.
In Ireland on March the first the sun doesn't often shine
In fact the day is seldom ever fine
Old February till latter March remain
You take your hat and coat expecting rain.
Near 10 A.M. it makes a heavy shower
And it keeps on raining maybe for an hour
And horses and their owners soaked right to the skin
But rain doesn't worry tough horse loving men.
The deals were clinched with hand slap and hand shake
Your bond your word and your word you would not break
The Town Square packed with people young and old
And deals were done and many horses sold.
And people there from many walks of life
The travelling man with his children and wife,
And the man who owns forty acres of moor
By any standards he's considered poor.
And wealthy farmer down south for the day
To buy good horse and make the journey pay
And horses changed hands when the deals were made
And Uptown pubs were doing a roaring trade.
My thoughts return to happier days gone by
When I was younger and a school going boy
And March horse fair was always school free day
The better memories with us tend to stay.
And I too went to Millstreet old Town Square
For to watch the dealings and the barterings there,
The slap of hands, the handshakes deals were done
And old friendships renewed and new friendships were won.
A nip of winter in the morning air
As people made their way to the horse fair
A shame about the weather some did say
But rain or sleet did not keep them away.
A time of year between winter and spring
Too cold and early yet for birds to sing
Old February till latter March remain
And you take your hat and coat expecting rain.
The morning has a heavy winter chill
And dark rain clouds move over Clara hill
And the old man says that the rain will bucket down
As he stands holding his horse in the Square at Millstreet town.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Upon The Great Monument Of Dr. Jose Rizal
upon his great monument
early this morning
some tiny needles of rain
are falling
lush grasses below his feet
untrimmed
around him are the mango trees
unpruned
the white paint is looking old
motorcabs pass by
some women with black umbrellas
rush along the sidewalks
the rain falls heavily now
each rushing to take their chosen
shades and then stop for a while
nobody cares what he really
said
nobody reads what he had written
he is past.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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