An Impromptu
Here in the pungent gloom
Where the tamarac roses glow
And the balsam burns its perfume,
A vireo turns his slow
Cadence, as if he gloated
Over the last phrase he floated;
Each one he moulds and mellows
Matching it with its fellows:
So have you noted
How the oboe croons,
The canary-throated,
In the gloom of the violoncellos
And bassoons.
But afar in the thickset forest
I hear a sound go free,
Crashing the stately neighbours
The pine and the cedar tree,
Horns and harps and tabors,
Drumming and harping and horning
In savage minstrelsy--
It wakes in my soul a warning
Of the wind of destiny.
My life is soaring and swinging
In triple walls of quiet,
In my heart there is rippling and ringing
A song with melodious riot,
When a fateful thing comes nigh it
A hush falls, and then
I hear in the thickset world
The wind of destiny hurled
On the lives of men.
poem by Duncan Campbell Scott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Life
Rolling and tumbling
Life’s akin to tumbleweed
It keeps on going
Until the wind stops
Its destiny is unknown
I am up your down
Alone on my own
Enjoying the world up high
I am like a bird
Soaring in the sky
Lurking life beneath my wings
It’s a pretty sight
Would it be the same
When you look at me above
If you were a tree
Or a bush shading
A weed to wish for a wind
Change our destiny
poem by Efren Petalver Carranza
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Night Burial In The Forest
Lay him down where the fern is thick and fair.
Fain was he for life, here lies he low:
With the blood washed clean from his brow and his beautiful hair,
Lay him here in the dell where the orchids grow.
Let the birch-bark torches roar in the gloom,
And the trees crowd up in a quiet startled ring
So lone is the land that in this lonely room
Never before has breathed a human thing.
Cover him well in his canvas shroud, and the moss
Part and heap again on his quiet breast,
What recks he now of gain, or love, or loss
Who for love gained rest?
While she who caused it all hides her insolent eyes
Or braids her hair with the ribbons of lust and of lies,
And he who did the deed fares out like a hunted beast
To lurk where the musk-ox tramples the barren ground
Where the stroke of his coward heart is the only sound.
Haunting the tamarac shade,
Hear them up-thronging
Memories foredoomed
Of strife and of longing:
Haggard or bright
By the tamaracs and birches,
Where the red torch light
Trembles and searches,
The wilderness teems
With inscrutable eyes
Of ghosts that are dreams
Commingled with memories.
Leave him here in his secret ferny tomb,
Withdraw the little light from the ocean of gloom,
He who feared nought will fear aught never,
Left alone in the forest forever and ever.
Then, as we fare on our way to the shore
Sudden the torches cease to roar:
For cleaving the darkness remote and still
Comes a wind with a rushing, harp-like thrill,
The sound of wings hurled and furled and unfurled,
The wings of the Angel who gathers the souls from the wastes of
the world.
poem by Duncan Campbell Scott
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The Wood By The Sea
I DWELL in the wood that is dark and kind
But afar off tolls the main,
Afar, far off I hear the wind,
And the roving of the rain.
The shade is dark as a palmer's hood,
The air with balm is bland:
But I wish the trees that breathe in the wood
Were ashes in God's hand.
The pines are weary of holding nests,
Are aweary of casting shade;
Wearily smoulder the resin crests
In the pungent gloom of the glade.
Weary are all the birds of sleep,
The nests are weary of wings,
The whole wood yearns to the swaying deep,
The mother of restful things.
The wood is very old and still,
So still when the dead cones fall,
Near in the vale or away on the hill,
You can hear them one and all.
And their falling wearies me;
If mine were the will of God,–oh, then
The wood should tramp to the sounding sea,
Like a marching army of men!
But I dwell in the wood that is dark and kind,
Afar off tolls the main;
Afar, far off I hear the wind
And the roving of the rain.
poem by Duncan Campbell Scott
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Mi Vida Loca
(pam tillis/jess leary)
If you're coming with me you need nerves of steel
'cause i take corners on two wheels
It's a never-ending circus ride
The faint of heart need not apply
Mi vida loca over and over
Destiny turns on a dime
I go where the wind blows
You can't tame a wild rose
Welcome to my crazy life
Sweetheart before this night is through
I could fall in love with you
Come dancing on the edge with me
Let my passion set you free
Mi vida loca over and over
Destiny turns on a dime
I go where the wind blows
You can't tame a wild rose
Welcome to my crazy life
Here in the firelight i see your tattoo
Mi vida loco, so you're crazy too
Mi vida loca over and over
Destiny turns on a dime
I go where the wind blows
You can't tame a wild rose
Welcome to my crazy life
We'll go where the wind blows
And i'll be a wild rose
Welcome to my crazy life
song performed by by Pam Tillis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Roses
Oh, wind of the spring-time, oh, free wind of May,
When blossoms and bird-song are rife;
Oh, joy for the season, and joy for the day,
That gave me the roses of life, of life,
That gave me the roses of life.
Oh, wind of the summer, sing loud in the night,
When flutters my heart like a dove;
One came from thy kingdom, thy realm of delight,
And gave me the roses of love, of love,
And gave me the roses of love.
Oh, wind of the winter, sigh low in thy grief,
I hear thy compassionate breath;
I wither, I fall, like the autumn-kissed leaf,
He gave me the roses of death, of death,
He gave me the roses of death.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Moon Glow
The darkest night, flows with a
wind hush through open blackness.
Ya'ever see the moon glow?
Ya' ever hear the wind whisper?
Rivulets spill with water
across the mountain plains;
as liquid rolls down along the steep slope-
ya'ever see the moon glow?
Ya' ever hear the wind whisper?
Stars glitter through sparkles
of the darkest night.
Wind cold breeze swifts;
swiftly into space.
Laughter engulfs the moon light.
Ya' ever see the moon glow?
Ya' ever hear the wind whisper?
Moon light angles corners,
as sweet melodies swell into air,
of silence.
You ever sight the bird dance,
as shadow flicker
upon the moon?
Ya' ever see the moon glow?
Ya' ever hear the wind whisper?
poem by Celine Berghmans
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Music To My Ears
The merry music of a colourful carousel.
The joyous ringing out of church wedding bells.
A bird singing its heart out, high up in a tree.
The waves crashing down upon the salty sea.
The skin of a snare drum, being played with brushes.
A waterfall - the dramatic way that the water rushes.
The audience's excited chatter prior to a show.
The melodious sound of the bassoon or the oboe.
The call of geese - their loud, trumpeting sound.
A music box, as its pretty ballerina dances around.
I adore some accents: some are really top-notch:
I love listening to the Geordies and to the Scotch.
The jangling bells and cracking sticks of Morris Men.
The loud, hourly chiming of London's iconic Big Ben.
The tinkling of wind-chimes, blowing this way and that.
The rhythmic and resonant purring of a contented cat.
These are among the sounds which I love to hear:
Towards these sounds, my feet are often steered.
These sounds always put a smile upon my face:
Towards these sounds, my two feet will often race.
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ballad of Joe and Satchong
There's a lady from the orient sea
Such winsome lady and lovely
With her voice so sweet to hear
Melodious within the wind zephyr
A sweet rhythmic sound like a song
A pleasing tune of such song
That enchanted this fellow
And made his heart glow
Ah - lovely voice, said Joe
That encourage him to go
Or search for that voice
That makes his heart rejoice
He followed the gentle breeze
Across Atlantic and Pacific seas
As the ocean waves and rolls
He goes on with the gentle breeze with goals
In the air is the song for Joe
That makes his heart glow
And search that voice
That makes his soul rejoice
So within the breeze is the song
Said Joe, Oh what a lovely song
And so melodious voice
That makes my heart rejoice
He continue to follow gentle breeze
Across Atlantic and Pacific seas
There in the orient sea he found that such song
is from the lovely lady named Satchong
With the little winged Cherubim
Coveted them and their love woven
Their love are like in the air
Life like the gentle wind zephyr
'til now their love so sweet like a song
With this couple Joe and Satchong
So blessed with bright lifetime
So solid maybe until the end of time
poem by Ency Bearis
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The Sounds
I can hear her heart beat
It seams a little strong
I can hear the things I did wrong
I can hear her thoughts
By looking in her eyes
I can hear her all the times she cried
I can hear the memories
As they echo off the wall
Falling from the pictures down the hall
I can hear regret
Building up in side of me
And I can hear all the things
I could not see
Those are the sounds of a woman leaving
Stronger then the wind in a willow tree
Those are the sounds of a heart breaking
You can't hear it
But the noise is killing me
I should of heard it coming
But I chose to pretend
I should of recognizes that sound
Way back then
But I just wouldn't listen didn't want to all those years
Now the truth is ringing clear
In my ears
Those are the sounds of a woman leaving
Stronger then the wind in willow tree
Those are the sounds of a heart breaking
You can't hear it
But the noise is killing me
Those are the sounds of a heart breaking
You can't hear it
But the noise is killing me
I can hear it
And the silent is killing me
song performed by by Alan Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Destiny Calls
Destiny calls me,
as starlight falls on me,
and the whispering wind caresses my skin.
Oh how I wonder,
many nights I do ponder,
who and what I really am.
My destiny awaits me,
my soul does elate me,
and I know I got a place in this world.
poem by Rebecca Wiles
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Four Places Of Sorrow
There is sorrow for me in the North, where the black wind blows,
(Hush, O Wind of the dirges, O Voice of the restless dead!)
The ache of its cruel keening thro' my heart like an arrow goes,
I see in the tossing waters the sheen of a dear bright head.
There is sorrow for me in the South, where the white wind sings,
(Hush, O Wind of all lovers, crooning a laugh and a cry!)
On the pain of a dream love-haunted breaks the music of wings,
Seagulls, sweeping and swaying, saw ye my dead drift by?
There is sorrow for me in the East, where the red wind burns,
(Hush, O Wind of remorse, O Wind of the scourging flame!)
Under its slow cold dawning the soul of the drowned returns
And wan, in the startled daybreak, a ghost from the sea he came.
There is sorrow for me in the West, where the brown wind raves,
(Hush, O Wind from the bogs, O memory-freighted Wind!)
He is spindrift hither and thither, sport of unweary waves:
Would that my heart were close on his heart, my eyes on his eyes were blind!
poem by Anna Johnston MacManus
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Woman's Mood
I THINK to-night I could bear it all,
Even the arrow that cleft the core,—
Could I wait again for your swift footfall,
And your sunny face coming in at the door.
With the old frank look and the gay young smile,
And the ring of the words you used to say;
I could almost deem the pain worth while,
To greet you again in the olden way!
But you stand without in the dark and cold,
And I may not open the long closed door,
Nor call thro’ the night, with the love of old,—
“Come into the warmth, as in nights of yore!”
I kneel alone in the red fire-glow,
And hear the wings of the wind sweep by;
You are out afar in the night, I know,
And the sough of the wind is like a cry.
You are out afar—and I wait within,
A grave-eyed woman whose pulse is slow;
The flames round the red coals softly spin,
And the lonely room’s in a rosy glow.
The firelight falls on your vacant chair,
And the soft brown rug where you used to stand;
Dear, never again shall I see you there,
Nor lift my head for your seeking hand.
Yet sometimes still, and in spite of all,
I wistful look at the fastened door,
And wait again for the swift footfall,
And the gay young voice as in hours of yore.
It still seems strange to be here alone,
With the rising sob of the wind without;
The sound takes a deep, insisting tone,
Where the trees are swinging their arms about.
Its moaning reaches the sheltered room,
And thrills my heart with a sense of pain;
I walk to the window, and pierce the gloom,
With a yearning look that is all in vain.
You are out in a night of depths that hold
No promise of dawning for you and me,
And only a ghost from the life of old
Has come from the world of memory!
You are out evermore! God wills it so!
But ah! my spirit is yearning yet!
As I kneel alone by the red fire-glow,
My eyes grow dim with the old regret.
O when shall the aching throb grow still,
The warm love-life turn cold at the core!
Must I be watching, against my will,
For your banished face in the opening door?
It may be, dear, when the sequel’s told
Of the story, read to its bitter close;
When the inner meanings of life unfold,
And the under-side of our being shows—
It may be then, in that truer light,
When all our knowledge has larger grown,
I may understand why you stray to-night,
And I am left, with the past, alone.
poem by Jenning Carmichael
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Deep Silences Like Thunderbolts Were Hurled
Deep silences like thunderbolts were hurled
through the noiseless deafness of my quiet world.
These sounds were generated from within
for my ears were not able to take sounds in.
From the noisy world no sound could be heard
no clashing of drums or song of a bird.
My eyes could see your lips talking to me
but what you said remained a mystery.
Cut off from the noisy world around
and from its vast cacophony of sound.
I could not hear a dog bark or baby cry,
the rustling wind or river rippling by.
Then there down by the Sea of Galilee
they begged Jesus to lay his hands on me.
I was deaf and dumb and could hardly talk
but Jesus took me aside for a walk.
He reached out touching my tongue and my ear
cried out 'Ephphatha' and then I could hear.
My tongue was loosened and then I could speak
now I'm no longer an outcast or freak.
Overwhelmed and amazed at everything
I heard all the people His praises sing.
For although Jesus told them not to tell
they told everyone He'd done all things well.
Written after reading Mark 7: 31-37
I Cant Ever Get Enough Of You
Darren hayes / rick nowels
Well I know that I have only ever held your hand but just one touch is more
Than enough to understand theres a master plan and although I know I dont
Believe in destiny maybe it found me now my world is filled with so many things
But nothing compares to the touch of your skin theres a symphony and a melody
That plays whenever youre around I think Ive been found
I can see the sun and I can feel the rain I can hear the wind call your name i
Can feel your love but theres one thing I cant do I cant ever get enough of
You
Now I know that in the past Ive been much too keen but your eyes are the
Kindest that Ive ever seen I guess there are some things you just know theres
A voice inside telling me to hold on and never let you go theres a tune that
Plays its a sacred sound its a symphony I hear whenever youre around now my
World is filled with a whisper of love and a promise of tomorrow I can see the
Sun and I can feel the rain I can hear the wind call your name I can feel your
Love but theres one thing I cant do I cant ever get enough of you
When we make love I lose track of time I cant count all the colors I see in
Your eyes and while your heart beats in mine, its true I cant ever get enough
Of you
Now my world is filled with so many things but nothing compares to the touch of
Your skin theres a symphony and a melody that plays whenever youre around i
Think Ive been found
I can see the sun and I can feel the rain I can hear the wind call your name i
Can feel your love but theres one thing I cant do I cant ever get enough of
You
I can see the sun and I can feel the rain I can hear the wind call your name i
Can feel your love but theres one thing I cant do I cant ever get enough of
You
song performed by by Darren Hayes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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From this High Window
From this high window
the invisible wind
moves silent trees:
motion without sound,
dance without song.
Behind painted walls
and heavy curtains,
I cannot not hear
the tumult,
but opening the heavy door,
at last I hear the trees sing,
stirred to passion
by unseen hands
waving branches
swept up
by the compelling wind,
and drawn outside,
exposed and complete,
finally I face the clear maelstrom,
my own hair flying free,
and gaze at the trees,
wild men
dancing as they chant
savage hymns
to their howling god.
poem by Steven Federle
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Bells Are Ringing
The bells are ringing
The song theyre singing
The sound is bringing the people round
They hear the instructions
They follow directions
They travel great distances to the sound
The bells are ringing
The song theyre singing
The sound is bringing the people round (the bells are ringing the song theyre singing the sound is)
They hear the instructions (bringing the people round)
They follow directions
They travel great distances to the sound (they travel great distances to the sound)
They are persuaded by the music of the bells
Theyre not responsible for anything they do
(no) the people know
(no) the way to go
The bells are ringing, they hear the sound
They hear the sound (they hear the sound)
They hear the sound (they hear the sound)
They hear the sound (they hear the sound)
They hear the sound
The bells are ringing
And everyones walking
With arms extended in a trance
Forgetting their washing
Neglecting the children
Theyre dropping all businesses at hand
A voice is telling them to act a different way
They tilt their heads so they wont miss what it will say
(no) and when its so
(no) theres this to know
The bells are ringing, they hear the sound
The bells are ringing
The song theyre singing
The sound is bringing the people round
They hear the instructions
They follow directions
They travel great distances to the sound
They are persuaded by the music of the bells
Theyre not responsible for anything they do
(no) the people know
(no) the way to go
The bells are ringing, they hear the sound
A girl with cotton in her ears
Is shielded from the bells effect
As if by hidden signal
The people turn to face her
One thousand eyes are staring
They pull away her earplugs
The bells are pealing
And theyre revealing
The simple key to happiness
It isnt evil
It isnt good
Its only what the people miss
The bells explain what theyve been lacking all along
They were disorganized and that was what was wrong
(no) and now they know
(no) the way to go
The bells are ringing, they hear the sound
The bells are ringing
The song theyre singing
The sound is bringing the people round (the bells are ringing the song theyre singing the sound is)
They hear the instructions (bringing the people round)
They follow directions
They travel great distances to the sound (the bells are ringing the song theyre singing the sound is)
The bells are ringing (bringing the people round)
The song theyre singing
The sound is bringing the people round (the bells are ringing the song theyre singing the sound is)
They hear the instructions (bringing the people round)
They follow directions
They travel great distances to the sound (the bells are ringing the song theyre singing the sound is)
The bells are ringing (bringing the people round)
The song theyre singing
The sound is bringing the people round (the bells are ringing the song theyre singing the sound is)
They hear the instructions (bringing the people round)
They follow directions
They travel great distances to the sound (they travel great distances to the sound)
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tis Destiny
Though many may see it in a different way
'Tis destiny in our lives that does have the say
Our life journey our journey to destiny
To fame and to riches and to poverty.
'Tis a fact that the greatest are mortals and facts never lie
And from the day we are born to the day that we die
Destiny on our lives a huge part does play
'Tis destiny decided that I pen this today.
Many who believe in life choices will tell you that your life journey you decide
Those who ignore that you need to have luck on your side
They see your station in life as of your making not of circumstance
And they scoff at any mention of destiny or chance.
The town's wealthiest person in his fiftieth year was buried today
'Twas cancer he died of in a slow painful way
This was not of his choice of that most would agree
A slow painful death part of his life's destiny.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sorrow In The Wind
(jean ritchie)
I hear the soft wind sighing
In every bush and tree
The sound of my heart crying
When you are far from me
When were apart, my darlin
Theres sorrow in the wind
When were apart, my darlin
Sweet sorrow in the wind
You leave me in the morning
Your footsteps die away
Tho not a leaf is stirring
I hear the wind all day
When were apart, my darlin
Theres sorrow in the wind
When were apart, my darlin
Sweet sorrow in the wind
They say when love grows older
It dies and fades away
Yet all our life together
One ever brightening day
When were apart, my darlin
Theres sorrow in the wind
When were apart, my darlin
Sweet sorrow in the wind
When were apart, my darlin
Theres sorrow in the wind
When were apart, my darlin
Sweet sorrow in the wind
Sweet sorrow in the wind
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Woman's Mood
I think to-night I could bear it all,
Even the arrow that cleft the core, --
Could I wait again for your swift footfall,
And your sunny face coming in at the door.
With the old frank look and the gay young smile,
And the ring of the words you used to say;
I could almost deem the pain worth while,
To greet you again in the olden way!
But you stand without in the dark and cold,
And I may not open the long closed door,
Nor call thro' the night, with the love of old, --
"Come into the warmth, as in nights of yore!"
I kneel alone in the red fire-glow,
And hear the wings of the wind sweep by;
You are out afar in the night, I know,
And the sough of the wind is like a cry.
You are out afar -- and I wait within,
A grave-eyed woman whose pulse is slow;
The flames round the red coals softly spin,
And the lonely room's in a rosy glow.
The firelight falls on your vacant chair,
And the soft brown rug where you used to stand;
Dear, never again shall I see you there,
Nor lift my head for your seeking hand.
Yet sometimes still, and in spite of all,
I wistful look at the fastened door,
And wait again for the swift footfall,
And the gay young voice as in hours of yore.
It still seems strange to be here alone,
With the rising sob of the wind without;
The sound takes a deep, insisting tone,
Where the trees are swinging their arms about.
Its moaning reaches the sheltered room,
And thrills my heart with a sense of pain;
I walk to the window, and pierce the gloom,
With a yearning look that is all in vain.
You are out in a night of depths that hold
No promise of dawning for you and me,
And only a ghost from the life of old
Has come from the world of memory!
You are out evermore! God wills it so!
But ah! my spirit is yearning yet!
As I kneel alone by the red fire-glow,
My eyes grow dim with the old regret.
O when shall the aching throb grow still,
The warm love-life turn cold at the core!
Must I be watching, against my will,
For your banished face in the opening door?
It may be, dear, when the sequel's told
Of the story, read to its bitter close;
When the inner meanings of life unfold,
And the under-side of our being shows --
It may be then, in that truer light,
When all our knowledge has larger grown,
I may understand why you stray to-night,
And I am left, with the past, alone.
poem by Arthur Bayldon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Haunting Song!
A haunting song I hear comes like this..
The song.... coming..... in the wind…
The song coming...... in the wind…
The song coming in the wind...
The song spontaneously flows making eyes foggy…!
The song makes even the stone melt…!
The song makes even dead tree resurrect with leaves…!
The song kisses in many languages…!
The song makes forest animals listen with dizziness…!
When night Moon blossoms as breeze is walking,
A boy in blue colour stands blowing flute forever
And forever my heart melts in the thought of his love!
poem by Ramesh T A
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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