Rebecca Wasson
Spring and Summer, Fall and Winter and Spring,
After each other drifting, past my window drifting!
And I lay so many years watching them drift and counting
The years till a terror came in my heart at times,
With the feeling that I had become eternal; at last
My hundredth year was reached! And still I lay
Hearing the tick of the clock, and the low of cattle
And the scream of a jay flying through falling leaves!
Day after day alone in a room of the house
Of a daughter-in-law stricken with age and gray.
And by night, or looking out of the window by day
My thought ran back, it seemed, through infinite time
To North Carolina and all my girlhood days,
And John, my John, away to the war with the British,
And all the children, the deaths, and all the sorrows.
And that stretch of years like a prairie in Illinois
Through which great figures passed like hurrying horsemen,
Washington, Jefferson, Jackson, Webster, Clay.
O beautiful young republic for whom my John and I
Gave all of our strength and love!
And O my John!
Why, when I lay so helpless in bed for years,
Praying for you to come, was your coming delayed?
Seeing that with a cry of rapture, like that I uttered
When you found me in old Virginia after the war,
I cried when I beheld you there by the bed,
As the sun stood low in the west growing smaller and fainter
In the light of your face!
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Grand-Father's Clock
My grand-father's clock was too large for the shelf,
So it stood ninety years on the floor;
It was taller by half than the old man himself,
Though it weighed not a penny weight more.
It was bought on the morn of the day that he was born,
And was always his treasure and pride;
But it stopp'd short never to go again
When the old man died.
Ninety years, without slumbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
His life seconds numbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
It stopp'd short never to go again
When the old man died.
In watching its pendulum swing to and fro,
Many hours had he spent while a boy;
And in childhood and manhood the clock seemed to know
And to share both his grief and his joy.
For it struck twenty-four when he entered at the door,
With a blooming and beautiful bride;
But it stopp'd short never to go again
When the old man died.
Ninety years, without slumbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
His life seconds numbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
It stopp'd short never to go again
When the old man died.
My grandfather said that of those he could hire,
Not a servant so faithful he found;
For it wasted no time, and had but one desire --
At the close of each week to be wound.
And it kept in its place -- not a frown upon its face,
And its hands never hung by its side;
But it stopp'd short never to go again
When the old man died.
Ninety years, without slumbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
His life seconds numbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
It stopp'd short never to go again
When the old man died.
It rang an alarm in the dead of the night --
An alarm that for years had been dumb;
And we knew that his spirit was pluming for flight --
That his hour of departure had come.
Still the clock kept the time, with a soft and muffled chime,
As we silently stood by his side;
But it stopp'd short never to go again
When the old man died.
Ninety years, without slumbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
His life seconds numbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
It stopp'd short never to go again
When the old man died.
poem by Henry Clay Work
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Sonnet: What Joy!
I lost a book and found it at long last;
The joy when I saw it again was great;
I lost many other things in the past;
I searched my house entire like a feat!
I lost my poem new and almost cried;
My heart just leapt with joy when I found it;
I lost my wealth-details and almost died;
God gave them back after I prayed a bit.
What joyful tears filled father’s eyes when came
His prodigal son after many years!
What joy afilled a mother’s heart when blame-
Afreed daughter returned home without fears!
The joy that fills heaven when souls are saved
Cannot be imagined by minds God gave!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 2-6-2006
poem by John Celes
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Watching Me Fall
I've been watching me fall for it seems like years
Watching me grow small, i watch me disappear
Slipping out my ordinary world, out my ordinary eyes
Yeah slipping out the ordinary me into someone else's life
Into someone else's life...
There's a thin white cold new moon and the snow is coming down
And the neon bright tokyo lights flicker through the crowd
I've been drifting around for hours and i'm lost and i'm tired
When a whisper in my ear insatiable breathes
"why don't you follow me inside?..."
Yeah the room is small, the room is bright
Her hair is black, the bed is white
And the night is always young
Is always young... always young
The night is always young...
Yeah i've been seeing them strip to the bone in the mirror on the wall
Seeing her swallow him whole like it's not me at all
She holds out her hands and i follow her down to my knees
And the sucking inside insatiable smiles
"you will forget yourself in me..."
Yeah the room is small, the room is bright
Her eyes are black, the bed is white
And the night is always young
And the night goes on and on
And the night is always young
And the night is never over and over and over and over and over...
And this it's gone
And this it's gone
Yeah then it's gone
Yeah it's a cruel mean cold new day and outside the snow is still coming down
And in the blood red tokyo bed i watch me coming round
She pulled him down for hours
Deeper than i've ever been
And as i fall in the mirror on the wall
I'm watching me scream
I'm watching me scream
I'm watching me scream
I'm watching me scream
Yeah i've been watching me go for it must be years
Watching me get slow, i watch me disappear
And one day, yeah i know, i won't come back at all...
And always over and over in his ordinary eyes
I'm watching me fall
I'm watching me fall
I'm watching me fall
I'm watching me fall
song performed by by Cure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part I: To Manon: XVIII
HE LAMENTS THAT HIS LOVE IS DEAD
My love is dead, dead and in spite of me,--
Dead while I lived,--while yet my blood was rife
With hope and pleasure and the pride of life.
For my love ended unexpectedly
During the Winter, stricken like a tree
By a night's cold, and frozen to the blood,
Whose leaves fell off and never were renewed
By any promise of the years to be.
And, when the Spring came, and the birds, to mate
Among its branches, lo! they found it bare,
Though all around was Summer in the wood.
Yet they took heart awhile, incredulous
That such a tree should be for ever dead.
``'Tis early yet,'' they cried. ``The Spring is late.
It shall still be as in the days that were.''
But Summer came and went while the tree stood
Bare in the sun like a deserted house.
--Then the birds suddenly despaired and fled.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Another Spring
Angelo badalamenti, john clifford
Old people talk to themselves
When they sit all round all day
This old woman I knew
I used to go over there and sit with her
And shed be sitting around
In a rocking chair talking to herself
And she used to say she used to say
Sometimes the cold gets in my bones so bad
Till I just dont think I can go
Yeah and for a little while well I dont care
If my days are coming to an end
And just as soon be gone sometimes
Sometimes the night comes down on me
And I know whats ahead
An evening in this cold old house
With no one to say goodnight to me when I go to bed
An evening in this cold old house
With no one to say goodnight to me when I go to bed
Sometimes
I wonder why I stay
What am I waiting for
My children are grown and gone away
They got children of their own now
Dont need me anymore
In winter when the streets are bare
There aint nothing much to see
I just cant help missing and thinking
About that kindly man
That one old winter time came
And took away from me
And then one morning
Another spring is there outside my door
Things are blooming
Birds are singing
And suddenly yes well I aint sad
Aint sad no more aint sad no more
When its warm and the sun is out
Its like my hearts restored
Ive had my love Ive had my children
And I have so many memories
So dont mind me complaining
What the years may bring
Cos this old world has been fine with me really
And Im thankful for seeing another spring
Its gonna be better this time another spring
Its gonna be groovier this time another spring
Its whats happening this time
So Im thankful for letting me see another spring
song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Deep In The Motherlode
Get out of the way fat man. you got something to do
Go fill up your hands till theyre shining up at you.
You gotta get out while theres gold in the air
Its falling like water, coming down from the hills.
Go west young man
Earn a dollar a day just like your family said.
Youre rolling your days right on into the night
The head of the lines going way out of sight.
Go west young man like your family said
All along the wagons
All along the dusty trail.
Seventeen years not over a day
Like children in the wild.
Your mothers milk still wet on your face
And no one to pray for your safe journey home.
Out beyond the desert
Across the mountains by the fall.
Servants who leave their masters house
Are walking all the way.
The golden fields that beckoned you
Are darkened by the years.
Go west young man
If you knew then what you know today
Youd be back where you started a happier man
And leave all the glory to those who have remained.
So go west young man
Go west young man, like your family said.
song performed by by Genesis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Flyng At Night
five billion years away
a planet turns,
turning a million years
this side of the planet
and my heart beats
each beats
a million years
the other side of another planet
the distance that shortens
the years
as we watch a foreign body
five billion years away
a billion years passed
a universe caught in time
an eagle flaps its wing
each flag
a million years pass
that side of the planet
time is where you are
it walks away from you
as you walk away from it
inspired by
Flying at Night
Above us, stars. Beneath us, constellations.
Five billion miles away, a galaxy dies
like a snowflake falling on water. Below us,
some farmer, feeling the chill of that distant death,
snaps on his yard light, drawing his sheds and barn
back into the little system of his care.
All night, the cities, like shimmering novas,
tug with bright streets at lonely lights like his.
Ted Kooser
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Brother John And Friends
I sat quietly in my study
and tried to concentrate
when I heard things crashing
all about the house,
then came the rattle of chains
a sound I had not heard in years.
I closed my eyes in dread,
as I knew who was calling
a pesky friend Brother John and his entourage.
Brother John was back with ghostly friends,
back to wreak havoc over my life again.
It wasn’t so much Brother John
but his dubious ghostly friends.
Bang went my peaceful life
as it had done many years before.
Now it was back to being ever watchful
of things flying across the room
of lights being switched on and off.
It was all mischievous fun
to Brother John and friends
and all I could do was sit
and wonder when will it ever end.
16 September 2009
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Missed Train
How I was caught
Hieing home, after days of allure,
And driven to an inn—small, obscure—
At the junction, fret-fraught!
How civil my face
To get them to chamber me there—
A roof I had passed scarce aware
That it stood at the place.
And how all the night
I had dreams of the unwitting cause
Of my lodgment. How lonely I was;
How consoled by her sprite!
Thus onetime to me
Dim wastes of dead years bar away
Then from now! But the like haps to-day
To young lovers, may be.
Years, years as gray seas,
Truly, stretch now between! Less and less
Shrink the visions then great in me.—Yes,
Then in me. Now in these.
poem by Thomas Hardy
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Summer Summer
Summer summer once again here,
And reaching all over the meadows;
Growths of colors are everywhere,
With variant shades in the rows.
Contrasting life with coming of spring,
Beautiful sights out my window;
Love's now growing and starting to sing,
But shall my heart ever know.
Summer summer once again here,
Everything regeneration could enclose;
Sky is all wonderful blue and clear,
That's how each summer goes.
Contrasting life with coming of spring,
Beautiful sights out my window;
Love's now growing and starting to sing,
But shall my love ever show.
Summer summer once again here,
And reaching all over the meadows;
Reaping all out like in last year,
But where's my love you suppose?
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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The Foxfire Suite
This song appears on three albums, and was first released on the different directions album, and has also been released on the gift you are and the john denver collection - rocky mountain high a
.
Spring is alive
Spring is alive
In carolina
Deep in the forest
Where the foxfire glows
High on a mountain
Down in a holler
Thunder and lightning
So it goes
Over a hundred years ago
We came to carolina
Far across the water
Its a long hard road
With little more than courage
We came seeking independence
A little less than nothin
Is a heavy load
From the heather of the highlands
We have found the smokie mountains
Hard work and simple ways
And life is good
Life is good
Spring is alive
In carolina
Deep in the forest
Where the foxfire glows
High on a mountain
Down in a holler
Thunder and lightning
So it goes
You are
You are every morning sunrise
You are every rain
You are every peal of laughter
You are every cry of pain
You are all the summer flowers
You are all the falling leaves
You are everyone rejoicing
You are everyone who greaves
You are all my unknown secrets
You are all my hidden fears
You are known in lovers kisses
You are seen in childhood tears
You are where the stars are shining
You are where the rainbow ends
You are why the war is over
You are how the peace begins
Whisper the wind
Whisper the wind over the water
Whisper the wind all through the night
Whisper the wind along the canyon
Whisper the wind into the night
Whisper the wind brothers and sisters
Whisper the wind all the same
Whisper the wind love one another
Whisper the wind your precious name
Spring is alive (reprise)
Spring is alive
In carolina
Deep in the forest
Where the foxfire glows
High on a mountain
Down in a holler
Thunder and lightning
So it goes
Over a hundred years ago
We came to carolina
Far across the water
Its a long hard road
With little more than courage
We came seeking independence
A little less than nothin
Is a heavy load
From the heather of the highlands
We have found the smokie mountains
Hard work and simple ways
And life is good
Life is good
Spring is alive
In carolina
Deep in the forest
Where the foxfire glows
High on a mountain
Down in a holler
Thunder and lightning
So it goes
Words and music by john denver
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Please Come Home
It must have been about a 100 years
At least a hundred years
I wish you would just come back
Just come back home
The day we met feels like 100 years ago
And Im still waiting with my hand right by the telephone
Yeah maybe where you are you cannot make that call
Or you cant find the pen I know its not your fault
CHORUS
My friends think Im insane
Cause I've turned old and gray
And Im still waiting and I cannot be alone
Please come home (please come home)
I watch the clock hands tick my hours turn to days
And I cant fall asleep cause I don't want to miss that ring
I know that this year your car will park outside
But I can't put my arms around the girl who took my life
REPEAT CHORUS
Its been so long
Its been about 100 years
And a million dreams since the last time
Ive seen your pretty face I would do whatever it takes
I would wait another 100 years
And if that didnt work
Maybe Ill try and see what forever feels like
But until then and I know you hear me
And whatever your doing wherever you are please come home
That day we met feels like 100 years ago
And Im still waiting for you
Baby baby wont you please come home
Please come home
Wont you please come home
Please come home
Wont you please come home (Please come home)
song performed by by Uncle Kracker
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Am' tree series # 2
i am tall
i am straight
i am ' TREE
as i see my leaves falling to the ground
surrounding my trunk like a skirt.
my branches stretch to all four corners
north, south, east, west
and as they fall, i know then
that i am dying.
i stretch my head to the father sun
and scream for his strength.
and down to mother earth
to quench my thirst.
for hundreds of years, i have lived
and flourished with a beauty that
all mankind admires.
i then realized that it was' autumn.'
i am replenishing my life,
to enter a new one.
as my branches, which touch each point
north, south, east, west
so are the four seasons.
'i am ' tree
i live, i die, i revive.
my beauty like love is eternal
in the eyes of the beholder.
'I AM' TREE.
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Where Do I Go From Here
BY PARKER MCGEE
Autumn days lyin' on a bed of leaves
Watching clouds up through the trees
You said our love was more than time
But it's colder now
The trees are bare and the nights are long
Can't get warm since you've been gone
I can't stop singin' sad songs
Where do I go from here
Tell me where do I go from here
You said you'd take me through the years
So where do I go from here
Lover's plans like fallen leaves on windy days
Flutter past and they fly away
I thought I knew you oh so well
And I need you now
I need to feel you in the night
I need your smile so warm and bright
I wish my mind could let you go
Where do I go from here
Tell me where do I go from here
You said you'd take me through the years
So where do I go from here
Where do I go from here
Tell me where do I go from here
You said you'd take me through the years
So where do I go from here
You said that you'd take me through the years
So where do I go from here
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Drifting Away
(orbison/dees)
Sadness slips into the room
On silent steps of sorrow
Stealing sleep and all my dreams
Where will we be tomorrow?
Lying with you, crying with you, drifting
Talking till dawn yet we go on, drifting
Dont understand where we began just drifting apart
Drifting apart feeling alone drifting away
We cant seem to work it out
Drifting from day to day
Wasnt it all about, drifting away
Drifting away, drifting away
Losing the feeling
And now the music of the song is almost gone
That we used to play
From sweet surrender from drifting away, drifting
Two lovers lost two rivers crossed, drifting
Two bridges burned, no lesson learned, drifting
Lonely together, hurting each other
Still we cant say that its over
Can we bring back yesterday?
Will we be forever, forever drifting away
Drifting, drifting away
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love and Age
I play'd with you 'mid cowslips blowing,
When I was six and you were four;
When garlands weaving, flower-balls throwing,
Were pleasures soon to please no more.
Through groves and meads, o'er grass and heather,
With little playmates, to and fro,
We wander'd hand in hand together;
But that was sixty years ago.
You grew a lovely roseate maiden,
And still our early love was strong;
Still with no care our days were laden,
They glided joyously along;
And I did love you very dearly,
How dearly words want power to show;
I thought your heart was touch'd as nearly;
But that was fifty years ago.
Then other lovers came around you,
Your beauty grew from year to year,
And many a splendid circle found you
The centre of its glimmering sphere.
I saw you then, first vows forsaking,
On rank and wealth your hand bestow;
O, then I thought my heart was breaking!--
But that was forty years ago.
And I lived on, to wed another:
No cause she gave me to repine;
And when I heard you were a mother,
I did not wish the children mine.
My own young flock, in fair progression,
Made up a pleasant Christmas row:
My joy in them was past expression;
But that was thirty years ago.
You grew a matron plump and comely,
You dwelt in fashion's brightest blaze;
My earthly lot was far more homely;
But I too had my festal days.
No merrier eyes have ever glisten'd
Around the hearth-stone's wintry glow,
Than when my youngest child was christen'd;
But that was twenty years ago.
Time pass'd. My eldest girl was married,
And I am now a grandsire gray;
One pet of four years old I've carried
Among the wild-flower'd meads to play.
In our old fields of childish pleasure,
Where now, as then, the cowslips blow,
She fills her basket's ample measure;
And that is not ten years ago.
But though first love's impassion'd blindness
Has pass'd away in colder light,
I still have thought of you with kindness,
And shall do, till our last good-night.
The ever-rolling silent hours
Will bring a time we shall not know,
When our young days of gathering flowers
Will be an hundred years ago.
poem by Thomas Love Peacock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Winter's Whitest Spurts
Although John Clare declared that he
saw spring in winter’s whitest spurts,
for many this is hard to see
when, freezing, all our body hurts,
and winter’s direst discontent
makes cold blasts pierce the frozen soul.
We wonder where the summer went
when icy winds exact their toll,
and whistling toll for all of us
on nights we wish would be more silent.
each blast a blaring blunderbuss
that’s aimed to make us all an island,
disconnected from the spring
and summer, fall, that we remember
when we for warmth our cold arms fling
around each other in December.
Inspired by John Clare’s “The Winter’s Spring”:
THE winter comes; I walk alone,
I want no bird to sing;
To those who keep their hearts their own
The winter is the spring.
No flowers to please-no bees to hum-
The coming spring's already come.
I never want the Christmas rose
To come before its time;
The seasons, each as God bestows,
Are simple and sublime.
I love to see the snowstorm hing;
'Tis but the winter garb of spring.
I never want the grass to bloom:
The snowstorm's best in white.
I love to see the tempest come
And love its piercing light.
The dazzled eyes that love to cling
O'er snow-white meadows sees the spring.
I love the snow, the crumpling snow
That hangs on everything,
It covers everything below
Like white dove's brooding wing,
A landscape to the aching sight,
A vast expanse of dazzling light.
It is the foliage of the woods
That winters bring-the dress,
White Easter of the year in bud,
That makes the winter Spring.
The frost and snow his posies bring,
Nature's white spurts of the spring.
12/24/09
poem by Gershon Hepner
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Summer Affair
The summer is almost over
and winter is almost here,
the sky of blue is turning grey
as the long nights are coming in.
They said our love
was only a summer affair
and after the chill of winter,
no love will be there.
Our summer affair has lasted
longer than they thought
and it brought happiness
the kind few have ever seen.
It brought us contentment
with our children three
and it brought everlasting love
just for you and me.
Years have passed
since that summer
and our love grows each day.
We’ve had the good and bad times
and together we’ve seen them through.
Our love is strong
and even in our twilight years
together we will be here.
9 March 1996
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Summer Affair
The summer is almost over,
and winter is almost here.
The skies of blue are turning grey,
as the long nights are coming in.
They said our love was only
a summer affair.
After the chill of winter,
no love would be there.
Years have passed
since that summer,
and our love still grows each day.
We’ve had our good and bad times,
and together we have seen them through.
Our love is strong,
and even in our twilight years,
together we will be here.
Our summer affair has lasted,
longer than they thought.
It has brought us happiness,
which few will ever see.
It has brought us contentment
with our children three,
and it has brought everlasting love
for just you and me.
9 March 1996
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Then And Now
Beneath her window in the fragrant night
I half forget how truant years have flown
Since I looked up to see her chamber-light,
Or catch, perchance, her slender shadow thrown
Upon the casement; but the nodding leaves
Sweep lazily across the unlit pane,
And to and fro beneath the shadowy eaves,
Like restless birds, the breath of coming rain
Creeps, lilac-laden, up the village street
When all is still, as if the very trees
Were listening for the coming of her feet
That come no more; yet, lest I weep, the breeze
Sings some forgotten song of those old years
Until my heart grows far too glad for tears.
poem by John McCrae
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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