At Dawn
Early in the morning;
Before the Sun had come;
A cool breeze was blowing;
I walked up and down.
Neighbours were still sleeping;
The weather was so cold;
All was very quiet;
Except the chirp of Birds!
It had been much raining;
All through the previous night;
Coffee having taken,
I pranced like a kite.
‘Twas a Sunday morning!
And all would get up late;
Just the noise of motors,
Was in the far-off roads.
The Air was quite freshn’ing,
I breathed and breathed and breathed;
I saw a group of black clouds;
In the Sky inter-weaved.
The plants seemed so smiling;
Their leaves were green and fresh;
The ground was wet, sodden;
And showed some sprouts afresh.
Plantain-trees looked stately;
Their green leaves so well-spread;
I saw green leaf-cutters!
On Moringa-tree leaves.
I had a good night’s sleep;
The family left for hol’s;
I listened to the noise,
Of insects ‘neath the leaves.
Two trees had delivered,
A bunch of bananas each!
One was so much sagging;
The trunk would break, it seemed!
The Sky now brightened up;
The Sun still nowhere seen;
As if someone would come,
The garden next look’d clean.
I stretch’d my limbs few times,
Aiming to breathe better;
I had a bout of cough,
By now, ’twas almost Dawn!
Soon the Air got filled up,
With noise of various Birds;
They flew in joy, singing;
Another Dawn was born!
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The Leaves on Those Trees Spoke About Me!
The leaves on those trees spoke about me,
They leaned their flat, green shapes against each other,
Then came together to talk,
As the breeze pushed them up and down.
I wondered how they even knew,
That I was of modern mankind true,
That I could be their friend or foe,
That once I decided to go.
And follow out that mission of modern man's progress.
But their green body swayed with ease,
They breathed their breathable breeze,
And continued their green soft speak,
They weren't sure their future looked,
Sunny or bleak in this modern world.
And as they observed me standing there,
Down below the trunk,
Staring at my determined stare,
I wanted to fell all trees,
To fell them just to show I could.
So the leaves presiding over their g reenland,
Commenced their dance and speech.
They couldn't decide whether I was an environmentalist,
Or a man with no green conscience with no red heart.
poem by Vera Sidhwa
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Sonnet: Dawn
Dawn- the daily morning’s phenomenon!
A beauty most poets revel at times;
Creeping stealthily as the sun comes on,
Harkened by bird-songs that teach us our rhymes.
The darkened leaves of the plants and the trees,
Become lightened and a cool breeze blows by,
Seeking fresh nectar come the humming bees,
As soon the night and sleep will have to die!
What freshness fills up the air and the sphere!
As sunlight suddenly lights the whole world;
And Birds begin to fly with joy here/there;
The mist and the dew add beauty untold.
Dawn, Thou art so beautiful every day!
Nature’s ‘Good Morning! ’ to us in a way.
poem by John Celes
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May Song
BIRDS in the green of my garden
Blackbirds and throstle and wren,
Wet your dear wings in the tears that are Spring's
And so to your singing again!
Birds in my blossoming orchard,
Chaffinch and goldfinch and lark,
Preen your bright wings, little happy live things;
The May trees grow white in the park!
Birds in the leafy wet woodlands,
Cuckoo and nightingale brown,
Sing to the sound of the rain on green ground--
The rain on green leaves dripping down!
Fresh with the rain of the May-time,
Rich with the promise of June,
Deep in her heart, where the little leaves part,
Love, like a bird, sings in tune!
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Spring
Wake up again, sad heart, wake up again !
(I heard the birds this morning singing sweet.)
Wake up again ! The sky was crystal clear,
And washed quite clean with rain ;
And tar below my heart stirred with the year,
Stirred with the year and sighed. O pallid feet
Move now at last, O heart that sleeps with pain
Rise up and hear
The voices in the valleys, run to meet
The songs and shadows. O wake up again !
Put out green leaves, dead tree, put out green leaves t
(Last night the moon was soft and kissed the air.)
Put out green leaves ! The moon was in the skies,
All night she wakes and weaves.
The dew was on the grass like fairies' eyes,
Like fairies' eyes. O trees so black and bare,
Remember all the fruits, the full gold sheaves;
For nothing dies,
The songs that are, are silences that were,
Summer was Winter. O put but green leaves!
Break through the earth, pale flower, break through the earth !
(All day the lark has sung a madrigal.)
Break through the earth that lies not lightly yet
And waits thy patient birth,
Waits for the jonquil and the violet,
The violet. Full soon the heavy pall
Will be a bed, and in the noon of mirth
Some rivulet
Will bubble in my wilderness, some call
Will touch my silence. O break through the earth.
poem by Lord Alfred Douglas
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Morning Time
Wind was blowing through the trees
I could hear the rustling of their leaves
The morning sun sneaking through the clouds
Birds singing morning sounds
For i love this time i say
Morning of a new day
I wonder what the day has in store
In the distance i hear the waves crashing the shore
For it is morning time and all is a buzz
From the depths of the oceans
To the skies above
Good morning morning i always say
My your a beautiful day
Maybe you might rain today
Your still beautiful anyway
The sombre breeze that blows around
The birds singing
As i spread my blanket on the ground
So i lay here looking into the sky
Motionless waiting and watching the world pass me by
A few drops of rain speckle my face
I would not give up being here for any place
Sonnet-A new Dawn
Another Dawn is born, a new morrow!
The ground looks sodden from the night's good rain;
I see the dew-drops glisten on the bough;
The mighty Sun is on the rise again.
The ball of fire, dazzles such bright, white light,
The Moon, ghost-like, three-quarters-sized, remains!
It had been raining well all through the night;
This Sunday morn, empty are still the lanes.
The neighbour couple, hose-water the plants;
The leaves are verdant more than ev'r before,
The trunks of trees have busy, crawling Ants;
Some Birds are preening dry their feathers sore.
The Sun has gone high up into the Sky,
Its heat brings warmth to hearts as earth doth dry.
poem by John Celes
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One Day Nearer Spring
The weather cold this morning it is only two degrees
And a thick fog through the woodland, I can hardly see the trees
And the wildborn birds are silent there is scarcely any breeze
It's a day for woolly jumper though not cold enough to freeze.
For Winter in Victoria the weather seems quite dry
And the mornings foggy and quite cold allowing for July
And the fog doesn't lift till mid morning and the sun shines through the gray
And you see the grayness of your breath on a chilly Winter
day.
But only yesterday I saw male blackbird searching for a nesting site
On the ivy along galvanize fence in mid afternoon sunlight
And from there he flew to camellia tree as he pondered on where best
Might be the safest place for him and his mate to build their year's first nest.
The last leaves off of deciduous tree lay scattered on the ground
And in the grayness of the dawn the silence is profound,
The ghost like trees shrouded in gray and the birds refuse to sing
But every Winter day that dawns is one day nearer Spring.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Them Cool Green Leaves
Them cool green leaves
That comes around
When spring breezy breeze
Is again here found
And night becomes like day
With its reddish sky
When song birds sing and play
In the twilight high
Them cool green days
When a heart beat's found
With playing soft haze
To the earth all bound
And the dark night's stray
Has said its goodbye
When love is okay
And blue is our time's sky
Refrain
Just listen to the songs
That flow so smoothly on
The many sing-alongs
Those never from life are gone
Every tune that fills the air
With beautiful tender plays
And we together share
In many different ways
Them Cool Green Leaves
That comes around
When spring breezy breeze
Is again here found
And night becomes like day
With its reddish sky
When song birds sing and play
In the twilight high
Refrain
* Peter S. Quinn - Them Cool Green Leaves Free Mp3 Download
http: //peter-s-quinn-them-cool-green-leaves-mp3-downlo ad.kohit.net/_/319663
(There are over 50 different texts written on this poem, this one made now, as I was listening…[will be revised later on, perhaps] I hope you enjoy it; -)
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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Make-believe
Make-believe
The olive tree had three trunks Siamese triplets?
It was old and gnarled, some of its branches had
no leaves and it was lost in an abstract, cosmic
dream and not aware of its surround; I touched
the perennial and thus gave it soul.
A mild breeze blew, a fluttering of leaves and
the three could see the blue sky where a silvery
bird flew northward glinting in the sun. It could
also see how cute other trees looked, when aware
how ugly it was dawn dew dripped from leaves.
Wished it could be a cosmic dream again and
not know of time and place. But look, its tears
had fertilised the ground and around its trunk
flowers so rare they had still to get a Latin name,
sprung up from red/rusty soil.
They are my creation I have created beauty out
of my distress, the plant whispered as in awe.
My children, must shade them from the hot sun
and bitter winter rain. Vanity be gone, and see,
on its naked branches green leaves grew,
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Touch of Autumn
It is blowing, it is getting cold
Birds are chirping, birds are resting!
The long sunny day is gone
replaced by the sudden onset of night!
Leaves from trees, fruits like apples,
peaches, berries and grapes fall down.
My beans and squash seem ready
to sleep and abort the budding of flowers.
The green colours turn golden and
cover the living soil and ground.
September, October and November,
the golden long autumn months
of fallen leaves from windy heights.
___________
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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Looking Back At The Greens
i too look back at those green things
from the point of view of my
green thumb
a vegetable garden without an aphid on a leaf
a row of roses, lush green leaves
and red blooms
some petals falling due to the
wind
a line of green mint trees along the path
leading to the highway
sounds of motors threatening what green there is
i come back and settle on this patch
of green meadows
and grass and gray shade
my own shadow cast
on the huge gabi leaf.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Noise
From it there's no escape
it is everywhere
noise, noise, noise.
The moment you arise
till you go to sleep
it fills your head.
Cars and lorries drive by
bloody noisy Pigeons cooing
stereo's at full blast.
Drilling in the road
alarms going off
sirens wailing.
Kids screaming
Helicopter overhead
sound of breaking glass.
Noisy neighbours
doors slamming
dogs loud barking.
Even when asleep
noises in your head
you can't escape it.
Noise of wildlife
from tiny insects
to birds in the trees.
Noise can send you mad
it can get into the brain
noise is everywhere.
Silence is deafening
a whisper is like
a thunder clap.
Noise, noise, noise,
is everywhere
from it no escape.
Is it silent in the grave
does noise go with you
is noise eternal?
poem by Kevin Halls
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When Green Leaves Come again
WHEN green leaves come again, my love,
When green leaves come again,--
Why put on such a cloudy face,
When green leaves come again?
'Ah, this spring will be like the last,
Of promise false and vain;
And summer die in winter's arms
Ere green leaves come again.
'So slip the seasons--and our lives;
'T is idle to complain:
But yet I sigh, I scarce know why,
When green leaves come again.'
Nay, lift up thankful eyes, my sweet!
Count equal, lost and gain:
Because, as long as the world lasts,
Green leaves will come again.
For, sure as earth lives under snows,
And Love lives under pain,
'T is good to sing with everything,
'When green leaves come again.'
poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
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Summer Is Over
(tom springfield / clive westlake)
The night runs away with the day
The grass that was green is now hay
The world goes around without even a sound
And it looks like the summer is over
The rains tumble down in the sky
Young swallows have learned how to fly
The leaves that were green are no longer so green
And it looks like the summer is over
The sun and the moon take turns in the sky
The days drift on by too soon
The meadows are kissed by a cool autumn mist
Far away now is june
The birds fly away to the sun
The leaves touch the ground one by one
The breeze hurries by without even goodbye
And it looks like the summer is over
The sun and the moon take turns in the sky
The days drift on by too soon
The meadows are kissed by a cool autumn mist
Far away now is june
The birds fly away to the sun
The leaves touch the ground one by one
The breeze hurries by without even goodbye
And it looks like the summer is over
And it looks like the summer is over
song performed by by Dusty Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Village Green
Out in the country,
Far from all the soot and noise of the city,
Theres a village green.
Its been a long time
Since I last set eyes on the church with the steeple
Down by the village green.
twas there I met a girl called daisy
And kissed her by the old oak tree.
Although I loved my daisy, I saw fame,
And so I left the village green.
I miss the village green,
And all the simple people.
I miss the village green,
The church, the clock, the steeple.
I miss the morning dew, fresh air and sunday school.
And now all the houses
Are rare antiquities.
American tourists flock to see the village green.
They snap their photographs and say gawd darn it,
Isnt it a pretty scene?
And daisys married tom the grocer boy,
And now he owns a grocery.
I miss the village green,
And all the simple people.
I miss the village green,
The church, the clock, the steeple.
I miss the morning dew, fresh air and sunday school.
And I will return there,
And Ill and daisy,
And well sip tea, laugh,
And talk about the village green.
We will laugh and talk about the village green.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet: Grow Trees
The branches cut the wind fierce to a breeze;
The leaves break sunlight into chequered beams;
The shade of trees affords all travelers peace;
The wearied ones sleep ’neath the trees in dreams!
And birds too build their nests on branches high;
The squirrels eat their berries with great joy;
The trees make verdant all landscape near-by;
And attract rain in which children enjoy!
Trees make the earth greener and beautiful,
Adding oxygen to the air we breathe;
Preserve its trees, man! Nature is grateful;
The leaves and flowers can make us a wreath.
Trees are so useful to mankind always;
’midst good trees, men have spent their earthly days!
7-14-2002
poem by John Celes
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Leaves Compared with Flowers
A tree's leaves may be ever so good,
So may its bar, so may its wood;
But unless you put the right thing to its root
It never will show much flower or fruit.
But I may be one who does not care
Ever to have tree bloom or bear.
Leaves for smooth and bark for rough,
Leaves and bark may be tree enough.
Some giant trees have bloom so small
They might as well have none at all.
Late in life I have come on fern.
Now lichens are due to have their turn.
I bade men tell me which in brief,
Which is fairer, flower or leaf.
They did not have the wit to say,
Leaves by night and flowers by day.
Leaves and bar, leaves and bark,
To lean against and hear in the dark.
Petals I may have once pursued.
Leaves are all my darker mood.
poem by Robert Frost
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Settled in Nettles
I remember climbing nettles-
Nettles climbing our wooden fence,
The excitement of touching,
The thrill of the blisters-
The red and the oozing
Beneath my long sleeves.
I remember nettle necklaces
Burning the fingers that linked
The green leaves- big green leaf
To big green leaf- How
My neck had red blotches
Itchy and sore. I scratched
And then bled and then wore fluffy scarves.
I remember Justin Whiles
Who scrunched up his face and bit
On his lip and tied me with rope
And dragged the green nettles
Over my skin and asked, 'Why
Did we do this again? '
And now in my cabinets are nettles
In jars- jar after jar- big glass
Jars, brimming with nettles,
Their thick green leaves.
And sometimes the night
Gets quiet and cold
And I walk to my cabinets
And pull down the jars
And pull out the nettles
And bite on the leaves
And bite and then chew
And then swallow the leaves-
Leaf after leaf-
Jar after jar-
Till the night's not so silent.
Till I throw up green mulch
In my hands.
poem by Alicia Adams
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Abstraction Fo The Word Chirp....
i hear birds chirping
early morning
on those trees
clouds arrive, light
spreads,
green becomes too green
in the fields of
life,
i hear birds chirping
sweet to my ear
i give it priority
abstract. delet morning
move out clouds from the picture
double click green fields
focus on life
delet birds
add volume to chirping
it is all chirping now
just chirping
chirping chirping
the essence of chirp.
i have abstracted it from
everything else.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I Remember That Day In My Life
'twas early morning
when i climbed
the mango tree
and at the top
i sat on the big branch
for a long time
i looked at the
tranquility of the barrio
where i spent
my childhood
i breathed the air
filled my lungs with
so much peace
i did not have anything in mind
except that little escape
from every day's boredom
'twas a day without words.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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