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Sonnet-In Melancholia

'Tis Summer-time this year in its peak form;
There is no sign of leaves green, buds or flow’rs;
One's sweaty-skin could raise exanthems warm;
with water scarce, none can afford good show’rs.

Dry drumstick-fruits hang down from twigs so dry;
Papaya tree has not a single fruit;
The Moon has turned shapeless tonight;
I cry; ' The sky has clouds that look as black as soot.”

The place is airless; there's no noise of Birds;
My Allergy has reached a sorry stage;
And all I eat is rice with pickles, curds;
A battle 'gainst Nature, how can I wage?

Yet, things are settling down in God’s queer ways;
I feel as though these are my last sad days.

poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet: The Drumstick-Tree’s Growth

Look how the drumstick grows in length each day!
It goes so fast as if our eyes can know;
The fruit though small, grows long in Nature’s way,
And in a few days time, ’tis stick-like, oh!

Incredible it looks when fully grown,
From such a small flower, its present size;
God’s marvel makes man appear like a clown,
And yet, man will not agree God is wise.

The bees and butterflies too play their role;
Seeking nectar, they transfer pollen grains;
What umptine fruits cover the tree-like pole!
The lengthy fruits hang down like giant canes!

The drumstick tree shows God’s work at its best;
How much more wonderful, He’s done the rest!

poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet – Don’t Be

Don't be the fallen leaves, so young and green;
Don't be the buds that never can flower;
Don't be the twigs that always remain lean;
Don't be the flow'rs that dropp with each shower.

Don't be the branches growing very long;
Don't be the tree that never blooms at all;
Don’t be the nests that disallow Bird-song;
Don't be the fruits that hit the Earth by Fall.

Don't be the trunk hollowed by Birds, white-Ants;
Don't be the crown that can't get Sun or Rain;
Don't be the tree that grows not straight but slants;
Don't be the roots that prop the tree in vain.

Don't be the tree that grows on marshy-land;
Just be a tree secure in Maker's Hand.

poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Firwood

The fir trees taper into twigs and wear
The rich blue green of summer all the year,
Softening the roughest tempest almost calm
And offering shelter ever still and warm
To the small path that towels underneath,
Where loudest winds--almost as summer's breath--
Scarce fan the weed that lingers green below
When others out of doors are lost in frost and snow.
And sweet the music trembles on the ear
As the wind suthers through each tiny spear,
Makeshifts for leaves; and yet, so rich they show,
Winter is almost summer where they grow.

poem by John Clare
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Man Who Knows Much About Nature

He has not been to college or uni and for so called success in life he does not have much to show
But about flora and fauna and Nature there is so much he seems to know
He knows all of the trees in the Parkland by the bark or the leaves that they wear
A man who knows much about Nature and for the health of Nature he care.

A man who knows much about nature by their songs the birds he recognize
He like the quiet place in the country far removed from human made noise
In the shadow of a tree by the river the sun shining bright in the sky
Listening to birds singing around him such moments of peace he enjoy.

He like places without man's buildings away from the noise of the street
A quiet place in Nature's own kingdom where the creek and the river meet
Where lark he is soaring and singing as upward and upwards he fly
He has been a student of Nature ever since he was a young school going boy.

A man who knows much about Nature and to Nature he remains true
And Nature needs all of her good friends for Nature's good friends are too few
The weekend finds him in a quiet place on a sunny day sitting by a tree
Near where the creek flows into the river the river that flows to the sea.

poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Country Living

Cats and dogs
Chickens and hogs
Lumps in the 'taters
And bumps on a log -
Stars in the night
The moon shines bright
Crowds pass through the country
Like clouds in flight -
Coffee and curds
Foxes and birds
Slow conversation
With a sweet flow in the words -
Fresh water rippling at the spring
Gives nature such a beautiful ring
Days like these
Have ways of making a heart sing -
Nights are short, days are long
Worries are few, oaks are strong
Living in the country
Is like giving the soul a wonderful song -

poem by Smoky Hoss
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Trimming The Trees, Pruning The Twigs....

on the tree of life
there will be more leaves
and twigs and flowers
on spring
and more luscious fruits
for eating

there is somehow a
need for trimming
what excesses are there
twigs that go awry
leaves that lush for too much
shade
and so we do just that
cut some twigs
take a look and cut some
more
remove some leaves
for sacrifices
for us to some more
and some time
see heaven for once.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ceases to Flow

The course of river ceases to flow
As if smile has worn out and loss of glow
The course lay at standstill
River has lost its way and the will

The river bad has turned arid
As if everything is burnt by use of acid
No life is seen with even slight movement
Waiting for fresh waters to rush at any moment

I hear far cry from night birds
They made no noise was ever heard
The river has brought dead silence
I see it as unusual sign hence

It spells disaster for time to come
Not good sign and hence unwelcome
Not river bank but all streams may go dry
Birds will have to migrate and prepare for long journey to fly

I take it as nature’s curse
Entire blame must go to us of course
The river has altered course or deserted in between
Such situation has never been witnessed or seen

No green grass may grow
No fresh water may now flow
What to speak now of curve paths and falls?
It may be spelled as simple curse for all

poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Sonnet: the Drumstick Tree

The drumstick-tree I thought was dead and gone
Is fully clothed by green leaves and flowers;
The bees are active and some fruits are born;
The tree awaits August’s Monsoon showers.

I see the tree growing so fast each morn;
My eyes perceive not the blossoming act;
How well does Nature heal its parts much torn;
Human beings are blind with eyes- the fact.

So, numerous small birds visit the tree,
To eat the flowers that gets dropped nearby;
The tree makes the backyard look so lovely;
Some Millipedes remain and will not die!

The tree looks resurrected, simply great!
God gave a new lease and a newer date.

7-31-2000

poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Nature Has To Give

The clouds in shapeless form
Drift across a sky of blue
The birds colourful and warm
Across the sky fly to
While on the ground
Under a warm sensitive sun
Animals scamper around
Hunting food and having fun

Yet all this beauty
Is not uncommon at all
If we seek tranquillity
And peace of mind for all
All we have to do
Is concentrate on things
That nature has to give
Within this world where we live

(date written unknown)

poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On Promising Fruitfulness of a Tree

A comely sight indeed it is to see
A world of blossoms on an apple-tree:
Yet far more comely would this tree appear,
If all its dainty blooms young apples were.
But how much more might one upon it see,
If all would hang there till they ripe should be.
But most of all in beauty 'twould abound,
If then none worm-eaten should there be found.
But we, alas! do commonly behold
Blooms fall apace, if mornings be but cold.
They too, which hang till they young apples are,
By blasting winds and vermin take despair,
Store that do hang, while almost ripe, we see
By blust'ring winds are shaken from the tree,
So that of many, only some there be,
That grow till they come to maturity.

Comparison.

This tree a perfect emblem is of those
Which God doth plant, which in his garden grows,
Its blasted blooms are motions unto good,
Which chill affections do nip in the bud.
Those little apples which yet blasted are,
Show some good purposes, no good fruits bear.
Those spoiled by vermin are to let us see,
How good attempts by bad thoughts ruin'd be.
Those which the wind blows down, while they are green,
Show good works have by trials spoiled been.
Those that abide, while ripe upon the tree,
Show, in a good man, some ripe fruit will be.
Behold then how abortive some fruits are,
Which at the first most promising appear.
The frost, the wind, the worm, with time doth show,
There flows, from much appearance, works but few.

poem by John Bunyan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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God is at Work...

When winter’s barren twigs
Get clothed by leaves all green,
And buds that blossom forth
To flow’rs that turn to fruits...

When barren bosoms spring
With signs of new offspring,
Which Nature does with ease,
And bliss on earth, they bring...

When human efforts fail
Containing some disease,
Miraculous cures come
To ones that pray to God...

Just trust in Almighty
To get things done on earth;
The Omnipotent God
Is loving, caring Lord.

Copyright by Dr John Celes 10-04-2011

poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Skinny Sweaty Man

Flashin' lots of cash and spendin' lots-o-loot
he's sitting at the bar - then he's sittin' at the booth
across the dance floor he does scoot
he's the skinny sweaty man in the green suit

The caboose that could he goes toot toot
been known to gag and sometimes puke
a very good friend of granny goose
he's the skinny sweaty man in the green suit

Skinny sweaty man in the green suit

He's half man and half cartoon
but good buddy don't be confused
he's full blooded looney tune
he's the skinny sweaty man in the green suit

Face to face with the man in the moon
his family doctor is doctor seuss
if you catch him in your soup please don't shoot
he's the skinny sweaty man in the green suit

Skinny sweaty man in the green suit

He was new in town
a free wheelin' clown
a funny young duke
hangin' under the roof
of a place in time
united sound

he'll play a little guitar sing a few blues
he's the kind-a-guy that you can't refuse
despite the fact that he's no brute
he's the skinny sweaty man in the green suit

Strike the magic groove make him jerk and move
like an eight legged freak in snake skin boots
coming soon to a theatre near you
he's the skinny sweaty man in the green suit

song performed by by Red Hot Chili Peppers from The Uplift Mofo Party Plan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet: But Man is Wretched

The famished crow picks up the grains of rice,
Found in the drain-water near the kitchen;
Sometimes, it gets ripe fruits to eat, so nice,
Yet, takes much cleaner water than most men.

The parrots green need fruits and nuts to eat;
At times, they eat whatever seeds, they get;
They don't complain despite the summer’s heat;
They never curse their Maker, fume or fret.

Disgruntled Man is never contented;
He tries to eat those things he should not eat;
His life is not what God has intended;
He eats all things-mud, dirt, insects and peat.

Thus Birds behave so sweetly 'midst their strife;
But Man is never satisfied all life.

poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Top Down Summer

(eric carmen/dean pitchford)
Wakin up
And the sun is in my eyes
Temperature is rising
Its so hot
Shake it up
I go racing through the streets
Howling in the heat
And you know why
Girls in cars are driving through the city
Breaking hearts, but looking awful pretty
Baby, not so fast
Make the summer last
Top down summer
Are you ready for love?
Top down summer
We can drive to forever tonight
Hey baby, the right times finally here
The top down time of the year
Take your mustang off the blocks
Aint nobody walks when its sooo hot
Me and you
We can ride to town in style
Flash em all a smile
And you know what
Im so high whenever were together
I wish we could feel this way forever
Love is weatherproof
Cmon raise the roof
Top down summer
Are you ready for love?
Top down summer
We can drive to forever tonight
Hey baby, the right times finally here
The top down time of the year
Are we close enough to touch
(baby, let me show you how)
Its too hot to wear too much
(its too late to turn back now)
Top down summer
Are you ready for love?
Top down summer
We can drive to forever tonight
Hey baby, the right times finally here
The top down time of the year
Top down summer
Are you ready for love?
Top down summer
We can drive to forever tonight
Hey baby, the right times finally here
The top down time of the year
Top down summer
Are you ready for love?
Top down summer
We can drive to forever tonight
Hey baby, the right times finally here
The top down time of the year
Top down summer
Are you ready for love?
Top down summer
We can drive to forever tonight
Hey baby, the right times finally here
The top down time of the year
Top down summer
Are you ready for love?
Top down summer
We can drive to forever tonight
Hey baby, the right times finally here
The top down time of the year

song performed by by Eric Carmen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet: Some Things Will Happen

Who can prevent the fury of Nature?
Who can prevent the clouds from raining down?
Who can prevent God’s pre-destined future?
Who can prevent the artiste turning clown?

Who stops a fruit from ripening in less days?
Who stops the ripened fruit from falling down?
Who stops a seed from sprouting in one place?
Who stops the grass from being daily mown?

Some things in Nature happen so early;
Some things in Nature fail to happen right;
Some things in Nature happen finally;
Who brings the clouds that block the good Moonlight?

There is a time for death and every birth;
There is a time for everything on earth.

poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Too Hot For Me

I used to wait for summer
every single year.
But now summer's just too hot.
I want it to disappear.
I guess when I was younger
I didn't mind the heat.
But now that I'm more tender
I find the sun no treat.
It burns my skin.
My temples ache.
I really feel
I'm about to bake.
Now I wait for summer's end
every single year.
I pray for the days of autumn
when cooler days are here.

poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Warmth Of The Sand (Demo Version)

Relax and stand, in the warmth of the sand
The day is long and here for us to take for granted
And find ourselves to our knees
The water clear, the tender breeze upon our faces
As we bask in our good graces
Yeah, we all are golden here
In summer, in summer
Where night belongs to lust and lovers
In summer, in summer
And I appear to win you over
You will be mine this year (this year, this year, this year)
The sun is set, and the, the moon is high
The night is long and here for you and I to capture
We float ourselves to the gills, with icy drinks that bolster wills
And we are braver for the moment
Yeah, we all are golden here
In summer, in summer
Where all the girls bare olive shoulders
In summer, in summer
And I appear to win you over
You will be mine this year (this year, this year, this year)
The courtyard where the garden stands
Behind the beach at Crystal Sands
We shed our clothes and felt romantic
Tempted by the moon fantastic
Bright and warm and ours alone
Absolve us from the sins we own
And from one year into another
I think of you and I feel summer
In summer, in summer
Where all the girls bare olive shoulders
In summer, in summer
Where all you hope for is another
In summer, in summer
Where night belongs to lust and lovers
In summer, in summer
And I appear to win you over
You will be mine this year
(this year, this year, this year, this year, this year, this year, this year)

song performed by by Dashboard Confessional
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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August

THERE WERE four apples on the bough,
Half gold half red, that one might know
The blood was ripe inside the core;
The colour of the leaves was more
Like stems of yellow corn that grow
Through all the gold June meadow’s floor.

The warm smell of the fruit was good
To feed on, and the split green wood,
With all its bearded lips and stains
Of mosses in the cloven veins,
Most pleasant, if one lay or stood
In sunshine or in happy rains.

There were four apples on the tree,
Red stained through gold, that all might see
The sun went warm from core to rind;
The green leaves made the summer blind
In that soft place they kept for me
With golden apples shut behind.

The leaves caught gold across the sun,
And where the bluest air begun,
Thirsted for song to help the heat;
As I to feel my lady’s feet
Draw close before the day were done;
Both lips grew dry with dreams of it.

In the mute August afternoon
They trembled to some undertune
Of music in the silver air;
Great pleasure was it to be there
Till green turned duskier and the moon
Coloured the corn-sheaves like gold hair.

That August time it was delight
To watch the red moons wane to white
’Twixt grey seamed stems of apple-trees;
A sense of heavy harmonies
Grew on the growth of patient night,
More sweet than shapen music is.

But some three hours before the moon
The air, still eager from the noon,
Flagged after heat, not wholly dead;
Against the stem I leant my head;
The colour soothed me like a tune,
Green leaves all round the gold and red.

I lay there till the warm smell grew
More sharp, when flecks of yellow dew
Between the round ripe leaves had blurred
The rind with stain and wet; I heard
A wind that blew and breathed and blew,
Too weak to alter its one word.

The wet leaves next the gentle fruit
Felt smoother, and the brown tree-root
Felt the mould warmer: I too felt
(As water feels the slow gold melt
Right through it when the day burns mute)
The peace of time wherein love dwelt.

There were four apples on the tree,
Gold stained on red that all might see
The sweet blood filled them to the core:
The colour of her hair is more
Like stems of fair faint gold, that be
Mown from the harvest’s middle floor.

poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Sign From Nature

When you hear the blackbird singing in the warmth of a Summer's day
It is a sign from Nature that rain is on the way
Since blackbirds are natural Spring songsters in Summer their songs tell of rain
From listening to Nature's wildborn creatures weather insights we do gain
Birds can be Nature's weather forecasters of such instances quite a few
But to that you may even say tell us something that is new
Of Nature's many wonders we do become aware
But she has many secrets that with us she'll never share
The blackbird one of Nature's leading songsters in the green Season of Spring
But before rain in Summer he too is known to sing
One of Nature's many weather forecasters of weather change birds know
At the ways of our Earth Mother our wonder only grow
When in the warmth of a Summer's day the blackbird's song you hear
It is a sign from Nature that rain is very near.

poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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