Spring Song
ALL winter through I sat alone,
Doors barred and windows shuttered fast,
And listened to the wind's faint moan,
And ghostly mutterings of the past;
And in the pauses of the rain,
'Mid whispers of dead sorrow and sin,
Love tapped upon the window pane:
I had no heart to let him in.
But now, with spring, my doors stand wide;
My windows let delight creep through;
I hear the skylark sing outside;
I see the crocus, golden new.
The pigeons on my window-sill,
Winging and wooing, flirt and flout,--
Now Love must enter if he will,
I have no heart to keep him out.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Related quotes
It was so quiet that morning in Paris that the heels of my two companions and myself were loud on the deserted pavements. It was a city of shuttered shops, and barred windows, and deserted avenues.
quote by Philip Gibbs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On the island
Cemented into existing
among grey buildings, long grey days
they listened keen on hearing any whispering,
even tried to hear the breaking of the sea,
the howling wind and rain sifting down
but everything was barred, as life in prison is
locked behind strong steel doors, shut in
where some people came as specimens
of a political cause gone beyond
civility with guns, bombs doing the talking
taking lives, killing
and time oozed on, as meaningless,
their lives were gone.
[Reference: On The Island by Dennis Brutus.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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(The) Way We Used To
Written by - Jim Croce
How come we can't talk the way we used to do
Nothin' seems to be the same
Have we forgotten all the things we knew
Was it you or I who changed
Chorus:
We've got to find the answer
Let the secrets fly
Enough of telling stories and our well meaning lies
Things don't seem to be the same no matter how I try
There's no rhythm to the rain
Wind still whispers through the leaves on high
But they no longer sing your name
Chorus
We've got to try to build what we had in the past
Tryin's half the battle if we lose it we can't last
Heard myself just say the things I could never say before
And listened to the rhythm of the rain
Wind just whispered through the leaves on high
And I though I heard them sing your name
We've got to find the answer
Let the secrets fly
Enough of telling stories and our well meaning lies
We've got to try to build what we had in the past
Tryin's half the battle if we lose it we can't last
Heard myself just say the things I could never say before
And listened to the rhythm of the rain
Wind just whispered through the leaves on high
And I though I heard them sing your name
And I though I heard them sing your name
song performed by by Jim Croce
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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~~ Whisper~~
Silent screams are silenced
Given no chance to be heard.
Letters form words not listened to
Mere wisps of 'Whispers' in the air.
The silence is most deafening
Despite the unblocked ears.
The message is forever lost
As are 'Whispers' behind closed doors.
21 AUGUST 2009.
poem by Marci Made
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Entrails Of Autumn
The sun shone through the window
giving a reality of warmth
as outside people shivered.
The wind lifted hats,
turned umbrellas inside out
as people walked quickly in the rain
wishing they were in doors
in with the warmth again.
This was the entrails of autumn
before winter comes to call.
The season of rain, wind,
and leaves from trees fall,
the season of dying colours
before winter spreads its virgin white
across everything in sight.
The entrails of autumn
before winter comes to call.
5 November 2009
poem by David Harris
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Intimacy....
it is more
in the mind, and so the brain
makes a room
for us
two,
we shut up the mouth of
the universe
we fall short of the words
which we have mastered
it is the moan
of loneliness meeting another
moaning of
emptiness
glasses are made full and then
we empty them
and then we fill them all again
with what
we cannot really fully
comprehend
we have thrown away everything
shed off clothes, skin,
thoughts
wind to wind and rain to rain
and then in the silence of the room
after
sunlight slowly creeps in
from the
shutters of our
windows...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Nobody knows.
No one can tell me
Nobody knows
Where the wind comes from
Or where the wind goes
No one can tell me
Nobody knows
Where the wind carries
The white winter snows
No one can tell me
Nobody knows
What the wind whispers
To black feathered crows
No one can tell me
Nobody knows
Where the wind comes from
Or where the wind blows.
poem by J.A McManus
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There came a Wind like a Bugle
There cam a Wind like a Bugle -
It quivered through the Grass
And a Green Chill upon the Heat
So ominous did pass
We barred the Windows and the Doors
As from an Emerald Ghost -
The Doom's electric Moccasin
The very instant passed -
On a strange Mob of panting Trees
And Fences fled away
And Rivers where the Houses ran
Those looked that lived - that Day -
The Bell within the steeple wild
The flying tidings told -
How much can come
And much can go,
And yet abide the World!
poem by Emily Dickinson
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As Said
As said I have opened
All my doors and windows
Lions snakes birds
Air rain all allowed
To come and go.
I am impartial
I am transparent
I am judicious
I salute the truth
I salute the beauty
And pious.
As said I have opened
All my doors and windows.
I catch true words
That is there
Within the seven colors
Within the rainbow
Within the life
That is going and going
Like Times honest arrow.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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I should have listened to God
I should have listened to God
When he said that it would end
I should have listened to God
And been just friends
I should have listened to God
Before it was too late
I should have listened to God
But now I deal with fate
I should have listened to God
That it would break my heart
I should have listened to God
That it would fall apart
I should have listened to God
Because he loves me in everyway
I should have listened to God
And all that he had to say
I should have listened to God
And show what he made me to be
I should have listened to God
But I know he has forgiven me!
The Wind Whispers
The wind whispers to me,
It tells me things,
Things about you that I didn’t know before,
It reminded me of all the good times we had together,
It makes me sad to think that you’re not here any more.
The wind whispers to me,
It reminded me of the day we met,
Out in the rain, soaking wet,
You offered me your umbrella,
And I fell in love with you that night.
We had lots of fun days after that,
Until you went and said goodbye,
I never saw your face again,
And I never will,
Until I die.
The wind whispers to me,
It sounds just like you did,
Happy, all the time,
Until that day three months ago,
When you died.
The wind whispers to me,
And tells me that all is well,
It tells me that your happy,
And I can sleep at night,
Knowing that you didn’t end up in hell.
The wind whispered to me again last night,
And told me to be happy,
It said, even though your gone,
I should continue with my life,
But I will love you until the end of time.
poem by Rachel Brewer
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Whispers Of The North
Whispers of the north
Soon I will go forth
To that wild and barren land
Where nature takes its course
Whispers of the wind
Soon I will be there again
Bound with a wild and restless drive
That pulls me from within
And we can ride away
We can glide all day
And we can fly away
Whispers of the north
Soon I will return again
To those endless afternoons
In sunshine and in rain
Whispers of my love
Days and weeks on end
I will share my thoughts of her
In prayers that I will send
And we can ride away
We can glide all day
And we can fly away
Whispers of the north
The river and the shore
In the land that tested eskimos
Ten thousand years before
Whispers of my heart
In the tracks of animals
I will leave my footprints there
To lie beneath the snow
And we can ride away
We can glide all day
And we can fly away
Whispers of the wind
I will feel it sting
I will see it rise and fall
I will hear it sing
The sound is like a song to me
It takes away the pain
The river is the melody
And sky is the refrain
And we can ride away
We can glide all day
And we can fly away
And we can ride away
We can glide all day
And we can fly away
Whispers of the north
Soon I will go forth
Whispers of the north
Soon I will go forth
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Haunting Melody
It's not lyrics…but
whispers
That lie ‘neath the melody
Ghostly murmurs that
haunt
the refrain
Sursurrant sounds
That surge
And then melt
Whispers not heard but
more chillingly
…"Felt"…
As tingles and ripples
Of black fingernail
Making
Minor chords that caress,
And then go
Raking….
Up spine and then
Spider
cross brain
A musical medly
Of whispers
And melody
Song fashioned by phantoms
From mist
…Icicles and rain…
poem by David Whalen
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Gazing Through
I am gazing through the lattice of love,
And maybe i will find you around one day;
For the rain is over and gone,
And the winter is past and the summer is in!
And i will be looking through my windows that,
One day i will see the beauty of your shape.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Could It Be The Wind? (For Dave)
is it then the wind,
that rattles the pane?
causing the candle to flicker,
the curtains to walk?
could it be the wind,
making shapes of shadow?
and that long shaking moan
you feel in your bones?
the wind that whispers
in voices almost remembered.
that tugs at the door
to your forbidden room?
that taste of blackness
from an empty cup?
could it be the wind,
or something more?
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Where Does The Wind Go
Where does the wind go on cold, cold nights
Out of the sight of the bright sunlight,
Under the gaze of the glowing moon,
When all the world is tired and sleeping;
Moaning and carrying on something fierce
Could it be that the wind is weeping?
Where does the wind hide it's broken heart,
Out on the lake, around the boat
And even when no one’s there to hear,
Does the wind ever look for an alibi
When it's so quiet, you can hear your breath,
But the wind only heaves one threadbare sigh?
Where is the place wind could stay it's breeze;
So fidgety, flighty and full of glee
Holding it's breath till the doors fell in;
The windows all cracking their window jams,
Saving it all for a winter's storm
When the trees bend as low as they can.
poem by Patti Masterman
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With The Wind
'Twas when the wind was blowing from the billow-breaking sea,
The grey and stormy sea, I heard her calling me,
And in the woods and on the ways where leaves were whirling down,
And weeds were rustling brown,
I caught a glimpse of face and feet, a glimmer of her gown.
And there between the forest and a strip of wandering sea,
Of dark and dreaming sea, I heard her laugh at me;
And, oh! her voice was bugle-wild as are the wind and rain,
And drew my heart again
With all the lures of all the past and joy more keen than pain.
Upon a fir-dark hilltop by the sunset-jewelled sea,
The old and wrinkled sea, she shook her hair at me,
And I caught a misty shimmer of her frosty gown and veil,
And her hand waved rosy pale,
And my heart was fain to follow her upon the old-time trail.
Within a ferny hollow by the mermaid-calling sea,
The far and foaming sea, she turned her face to me:
Again I saw her beauty; and again she held me fast,
As she'd held me in the past,
And let her wild heart beat to mine as beats the autumn blast.
Beside a rib of wreckage by the tempest-haunted sea,
The sad and severing sea, she bade good-bye to me:
Oh, paler than the foam her face, and wilder than the night,
When not a star gives light,
And rain and wind and winter sweep like harpies from the height.
Oh, she who joined her gipsy joy to sorrow of the sea,
The gaunt and ghostly sea, will come again to me:
When Autumn leads the wild-fowl home and lights, like wandering gleams,
The camp-fires of her dreams,
Again my heart shall hear her call upon the gale that streams.
poem by Madison Julius Cawein
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Broken hearts..
How many times,
To how many young adults,
How many of you,
Have told it is too fast,
How many of them listened,
Mostly not listened and brushed aside,
How many shattered hearts,
How many of us have,
And found all around,
All around on the streets,
The power of hormones,
Really too strong to trick the mind,
To break the heart sooner or later,
The power of hormones,
The shower of rain,
The breeze of the wind,
The coldness of eternal spring,
The elasticity in the coil of spring,
It has to stay forever,
Why the broken hearts shiver?
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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As The Year Ends
As the Old Year Ends
This evening, the penultimate before New Year eve, I look out of the window
see an empty village road drying after rain. A lone outdoor lamp casts a bleak
illumination of houses gone grey by continuous precipitations; total darkness
would have been more merciful. Shuttered windows, silent despair every little
family cocooned in their own misery, but it is what they know and incestuous
are their dreams. An abject wind blows tries to make dead leaves and cigarette
butts dance for the sake of ennui. But then the wind dies too into a blanket of
unseen gloom of nothingness. The big Eve tomorrow, there will be dancing,
hilarity and music, but above all clamor a voice will whisper: “What is it all for? ”
poem by Oskar Hansen
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When it was Winter
First, when the shadow stood
Behind the window
It wasn't winter yet
Or it was winter -
No one could say for sure I knew:
It is winter
It's very cold
But it dosn't rain
And it seems it won't.
Then suddenly it started to rain:
One drop
Two drops
The eye gazed
Behind the windows:
It rained
A hundred drops
A thousand
A million
A thousand million -
Until the world was clean!
poem by Eman Elbadawi
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