En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Mild the mist upon the hill

Mild the mist upon the hill
Telling not of storms tomorrow;
No, the day has wept its fill,
Spent its store of silent sorrow.

O, I'm gone back to the days of youth,
I am a child once more,
And 'neath my father's sheltering roof
And near the old hall door

I watch this cloudy evening fall
After a day of rain;
Blue mists, sweet mists of summer pall
The horizon's mountain chain.

The damp stands on the long green grass
As thick as morning's tears,
And dreamy scents of fragrance pass
That breathe of other years.

poem by Emily Jane Brontë
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Rainy Morning

The dawn of the day was dreary,
And the lowering clouds o'erhead
Wept in a silent sorrow
Where the sweet sunshine lay dead;
And a wind came out of the eastward
Like an endless sigh of pain,
And the leaves fell down in the pathway
And writhed in the falling rain.

I had tried in a brave endeavor
To chord my harp with the sun,
But the strings would slacken ever,
And the task was a weary one:
And so, like a child impatient
And sick of a discontent,
I bowed in a shower of tear-drops
And mourned with the instrument.

And lo! as I bowed, the splendor
Of the sun bent over me,
With a touch as warm and tender
As a father's hand might be:
And, even as I felt its presence,
My clouded soul grew bright,
And the tears, like the rain of morning,
Melted in mists of light.

poem by James Whitcomb Riley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Hailstone Food

My father loved the rain
Rain with hailstones
Twenty years gone past
When green and blue
Was all I knew
No red of blood
Nor ‘supreme’ of white
Nor ‘beauty’ of black
Just green and blue and love
It rained with hailstones
White stones from heaven
My father knelt down
On wet September grass
His head to the sky
Few stones in his hands
My father said
‘‘Thank you Lord for hailstone food! ”
I recall less of other days
When it didn’t rain
Perhaps such days were spent
Patiently waiting to say
“Thank you Lord for hailstone food! ”
Twenty years long wait
Four hearts waiting, breaking
My father waiting, breaking
Waiting! ?
But every body waited for him
I think my father never knew
About the power within him
To make the rain fall
Down once again
And hailstones to scatter
His September lawn
I know now
He was a patient man
Yesterday I dug a hole
And I closed a chapter
With all my childhood’s tears
I put my father in the ground
Funny this:
As the body went down
The clouds began collecting
As the sand filled the hole
The rain began to fall
And as we left the site
White stones scattered the land

poem by LLM Mbatha
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Gardener XXI: Why Did He Choose

Why did he choose to come to my
door, the wandering youth, when the
day dawned?
As I come in and out I pass by him
every time, and my eyes are caught by
his face.
I know not if I should speak to him
or keep silent. Why did he choose to
come to my door?
The cloudy nights in July are dark;
the sky is soft blue in the autumn; the
spring days are restless with the south
wind.
He weaves his songs with fresh
tunes every time.
I turn from my work and my eyes
fill with the mist. Why did he choose
to come to my door?

poem by Rabindranath Tagore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

How To Tell The Story Of The Cloud

you know how is it with the clouds
the more with air
and mists

they always change and they do it
as quickly as a wink

you know what clouds do
the form upon you some stories
the rainy ones sometimes and you shed tears
in the same manner with the air and mists

the air passes and sometimes you do not even feel it
and so you miss the story that it is bringing
the story of a journey
into somewhere

and the mists bring you some notes about what to do
in the darkness of the night
yet you tarry on the grass and on the side of the hill

you miss the essence of our beings
we are ghosts and we do not know where we are hidden.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Dew Drops

Outranged's the meadow's faraway,
where sky sheds winter's first cold drops,
the lyre of winds in bogs will play,
nocturnal dance and moon's ballet,
the shelter sheds will ring sky drops,
silence responds - her voice atop,
the blooms in mists salute and sway,
tis where she felt her tears' dew drops.

Commendable the feast expands,
in time the dancers reach the fair,
rain drops will fall on green dewed grass,
musicians' violins and trumps,
her siren's voice responds with flair,
night solitude's bird singers stare,
in mists salute the wraiths who pass,
as rain drops dew her face and flare.

poem by Giorgio Veneto
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Cold, clear, and blue the morning heaven

Cold, clear, and blue the morning heaven
Expands its arch on high;
Cold, clear, and blue Lake Werna's water
Reflects that winter sky:
The moon has set, but Venus shines,
A silent, silvery star.

Will the day be bright or cloudy?
Sweetly has its dawn begun;
But the heaveb may shake with thunder
Ere the settling sun.

Lady, watch Apollo's journey;
Thus thy first hour's course shall be;
If his beams through summer vapours
Warm the earth all placidly,
Her days shall pass like a pleasant dream in sweet tranquility.

If it darken, if a shadow
Quench his rays and summon rain,
Flowers may open, buds may blossom,
Bud and flower alike are vain;
Her days shall pass like a mournful story in care and tears and pain.

If the wind be fresh and free,
The wide skies clear and cloudless blue,
The woods and fields and golden flowers
Sparkling in sunshine and in dew,
Her days shall pass in Glory's light the world's drear desert through.

poem by Emily Brontë from The Complete Poems of Emily Brontë (1908)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy!

Ocean Mist, This One Blurs Me, Misty Eyed On The Beach

well here we are,
in the middle of this ocean
of our respective
existences,

you are on your own
now,
i sail too,
this trip of mine
we catch a
glimpse
of the coming rain, the clouds thickening
over the sea
the horizon blurring
with mists,

like cold smoke
rising from the ice
of our glass filled
with sparkling
wine

we are in this foggy
part of
our thinking
you puzzle me
i like to think some more

who can you be
now infected by
yours truly
writing poetry
as you hide
in the thick ocean mist

blue haze
above salt
reducing
visibility

let nature spray some more
mist
like perfume in her handkerchief

dim like some dead stars
and darken
this universe
obscure the moon
blur my senses
i will try
seeing you
and your shadow
sweet
to my expectancies
of a disciple
draining some thoughts
of your past

let the mist of ignorance
dissolve in sunshine
let the haze of our eyes
clear a little bit
with our touch
to the truth
suspend impression
like liquid in gas

pour more liquor
over cracked ice
so i can have a
good sense of
your blue mist

a vaporizer can do more
adding moisture
to the air we want
to breathe
these harsh times
rain in very fine drops;

drizzle, do not fizzle
diffuse yourself finely
like a jet of water

replacing what humanity
lost

let us moisten with mist
this dryness of our
own distant worlds

ocean mist
i have a name, it is put alive
in the serving of
ice cubes on clear glass
soon hear the voices
of cracks

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

In Autumn

The leaves are many under my feet,
And drift one way.
Their scent of death is weary and sweet.
A flight of them is in the grey
Where sky and forest meet.

The low winds moan for sad sweet years;
The birds sing all for pain,
Of a common thing, to weary ears,--
Only a summer's fate of rain,
And a woman's fate of tears.

I walk to love and life alone
Over these mournful places,
Across the summer overthrown,
The dead joys of these silent faces,
To claim my own.

I know his heart has beat to bright
Sweet loves gone by;
I know the leaves that die to-night
Once budded to the sky;
And I shall die from his delight.

O leaves, so quietly ending now,
You heard the cuckoos sing.
And I will grow upon my bough
If only for a spring,
And fall when the rain is on my brow.

O tell me, tell me ere you die,
Is it worth the pain?
You bloomed so fair, you waved so high;
Now that the sad days wane,
Are you repenting where you lie?

I lie amongst you, and I kiss
Your fragrance mouldering.
O dead delights, is it such bliss,
That tuneful Spring?
Is love so sweet, that comes to this?

Kiss me again as I kiss you;
Kiss me again;
For all your tuneful nights of dew,
In this your time of rain,
For all your kisses when Spring was new.

You will not, broken hearts; let be.
I pass across your death
To a golden summer you shall not see,
And in your dying breath
There is no benison for me.

There is an autumn yet to wane,
There are leaves yet to fall,
Which, when I kiss, may kiss again,
And, pitied, pity me all for all,
And love me in mist and rain.

poem by Alice Meynell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Changes

the ideas come and they do not wait.
they enter your door and they do not knock.
they leave without any permission from your house.
they have colored wings and they simply fly away upon their liking.

they are so beautiful and deep and glistening.
enlightening and you miss them

now you sit there, speechless on the blankness of your world.
why did you not write when they were here beautifully dancing and singing?

you know how is it with the clouds
the more with air
and mists

they always change and they do it
as quickly as a wink

you know what clouds do
the form upon you some stories
the rainy ones sometimes and you shed tears
in the same manner with the air and mists

the air passes and sometimes you do not even feel it
and so you miss the story that it is bringing
the story of a journey
into somewhere

and the mists bring you some notes about what to do
in the darkness of the night
yet you tarry on the grass and on the side of the hill

you miss the essence of our beings
we are ghosts and we do not know where we are hidden.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

This Is All About Us, Our Beings Lost, Dissipated

the ideas come and they do not wait.
they enter your door and they do not knock.
they leave without any permission from your house.
they have colored wings and they simply fly away upon their liking.

they are so beautiful and deep and glistening.
enlightening and you miss them

now you sit there, speechless on the blankness of your world.
why did you not write when they were here beautifully dancing and singing?

you know how is it with the clouds
the more with air
and mists

they always change and they do it
as quickly as a wink

you know what clouds do
the form upon you some stories
the rainy ones sometimes and you shed tears
in the same manner with the air and mists

the air passes and sometimes you do not even feel it
and so you miss the story that it is bringing
the story of a journey
into somewhere

and the mists bring you some notes about what to do
in the darkness of the night
yet you tarry on the grass and on the side of the hill

you miss the essence of our beings
we are ghosts and we do not know where we are hidden.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Sorrow Under Mist

Mist -

Giving wispy vapour to the breath,
Cool calm to autumn afternoons,
A hovering air of mysticism
Over brooding lakes -

Was different here,
Affording company, closeness -
A caring arm around her shoulders.

In the eyes, a once-clear oceanic blue
Wavered under water -
Tears telling torrid truths
She couldn't face -
Like the glowering image in the mirror
You don't see in your mind's eye
Of compensation; delusion.

We see her sitting on the concrete steps
That led down to the dew-laden garden.
She's peering up, sensing her diffuse companion,
Refreshing in its chill; giving crispness
To the stealth of dulling evening.

But the bite of air couldn't lift the sorrow
Of pale youth in love,
Shouldered by a not-in-love and scoffing eye.

Rejection hurt;
Hurts -
Wrenches deep -
Emotion that we can't deny!

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011

Sorrow Rain

sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow
sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow
sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow
sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow
sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow
sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow
sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow

poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

A Beautiful Day

the fields are empty now
the grains have been harvested
the clouds drift and stay a while
on the side of the green mountain
still dressed with mists and fog
the trees line the path
the leaves are green and lush
i take as usual this morning walk
towards a hut beside a graveled path

a white heron arrives and lands
on a drying pond
the sun just shines to mark a
beautiful day
the pale horizon turns pastel blue

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

In Search Of Meanings

they search meanings:

a bike on top of a mountain
mists below
fog and smoke
and trees thick with leaves
some hands
reaching for the clouds
while you watch
from the top with a friend
telling you
that you have been a fool
on borrowed
sneakers stolen by
a kindergarten
mountain kid whose
grandma is sick
and dying and
looking for eternal
herbs

the climb has been
hard
all efforts spent
like wasted
time of an old man
childless
till the end

now it is time to go down
slipping like
water of the drain
down down
and you feel like
shrinking

looking for meanings
seeking for something that heals
like art
and yes, poetry, this daily breakfast
on words
fat and sickening

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Autumn In The South

In April when the first cool days
Foretell of winter's coming frost,
And waning sun's soft golden rays
Shine weaker now that summer's lost;
When morning mists, in veils of grey,
The trees along the river cloak,
Until the breezes blow away
The clinging mist, like clouds of smoke.
Then under skies of palest blue,
In these clear days before the cold,
The trees that shed their gowns bestrew
The fading green with flecks of gold.

© Dennis N. O'Brien,2011 - 2012

poem by Dennis N. O'Brien
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Smile For Tomorrow

Cry silently through the night
In cloak of dark and dim lights
And pour the pain in endless drops
When morning comes it will just stop.

Tears were made to wash the pain
Restore the shattered heart again
For though tonight there's drowning sorrow
All days don't rain, there's sun tomorrow.

For Love is a rainbow after the rain
Will come and embrace you once again
Perennial as the green grass grows
Your smile awaits a bright tomorrow.

poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

March Rain

March rain, thick mists drip
from grey branches, glowing grass,
rising like fire.

Buds bursting in slow
motion, unclenched, learn to trust
that green spring will stay.

poem by Steven Federle
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Morning Desire

(dave loggins)
Here its seven in the am,
Its gonna take more then wakin to rise me
I wake up with this need again
But feel the love of the woman beside me
Its just one of those days
When I wana lay here with her
And love her before I leave
And listen to the rain fall up on the roof
And the thunder sounds like horses hooves
Oh I listen to her breathe
And it makes me wana wake her up
And tell her that Im on fire
With morning desire
It looks like Im gonna be late again
And I need to get up and get movin
And Im tryin
But the longer I keep stalling
The more I think about callin in and lieing here
Its just one of those days
When I wana stay here with her
And watch her while she sleeps
And listen to the rain fall up on the roof
And the thunder sounds like horses hooves
Oh I listen to her breathe
And it makes me wana wake her up
And tell her that Im on fire
With morning desire
Well I love to hear the rain fallin on the roof
And the thunder sounds like horses hooves
Oh I listen to her breathe
And it makes me wana wake her up
And tell her that Im on fire
With morning desire
With morning desire

song performed by by Kenny Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Gloomily the Clouds

Gloomily the clouds are sailing
O'er the dimly moonlit sky;
Dolefully the wind is wailing;
Not another sound is nigh;
Only I can hear it sweeping
Heathclad hill and woodland dale,
And at times the nights's sad weeping
Sounds above its dying wail.

Now the struggling moonbeams glimmer;
Now the shadows deeper fall,
Till the dim light, waxing dimmer,
Scarce reveals yon stately hall.

All beneath its roof are sleeping;
Such a silence reigns around
I can hear the cold rain steeping
Dripping roof and plashy ground.

No: not all are wrapped in slumber;
At yon chamber window stands
One whose years can scarce outnumber
The tears that dew his clasped hands.

From the open casement bending
He surveys the murky skies,
Dreary sighs his bosom rending;
Hot tears gushing from his eyes.

Now that Autumn's charms are dying,
Summer's glories long since gone,
Faded leaves on damp earth lying,
Hoary winter striding on, --

'Tis no marvel skies are lowering,
Winds are moaning thus around,
And cold rain, with ceaseless pouring,
Swells the streams and swamps the ground;

But such wild, such bitter grieving
Fits not slender boys like thee;
Such deep sighs should not be heaving
Breasts so young as thine must be.

Life with thee is only springing;
Summer in thy pathway lies;
Every day is nearer bringing
June's bright flowers and glowing skies.

Ah, he sees no brighter morrow!
He is not too young to prove
All the pain and all the sorrow
That attend the steps of love.

poem by Anne Brontë
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy!

Let Her Cry

Let her cry
She sits alone by a lamppost
Trying to find a thought thats escaped her mind
She says dads the one I love the most
But stipes not far behind
She never lets me in
Only tell me wheres shes been
When shes had too much to drink
I say that I dont care I just run my hands
Through her dark hair and then I pray to god
You gotta help me fly away
And just...
Let her cry...if the tears fall down like rain
Let her sing...if it eases all her pain
Let her go...let her walk right out on me
And if the sun comes up tomorrow
Let her be...let her be.
This morning I woke up alone
Found a note by the phone
Saying maybe, maybe Ill be back some day
I wanted to look for you
You walked in I didnt know just what I should do
So I sat back down and had a beer and felt sorry for
Myself.
Let her cry...if the tears fall down like rain
Let her sing...if it eases all her pain
Let her go...let her walk right out on me
And if the sun comes up tomorrow
Let her be...let her be.
-solo-
Let her cry...if the tears fall down like rain
Let her sing...if it eases all her pain
Let her go...let her walk right out on me
And if the sun comes up tomorrow
Let her be...let her be.
Last night I tried to leave
Cried so much I just
Could not believe
She was the same girl i
Fell in love with long ago
She went in the back to
Get high
I sat down on my couch
And cried
Yelling oh mama please
Help me
Wont you hold my hand.
And
Let her cry...if the tears fall down like rain
Let her sing...if it eases all her pain
Let her go...let her walk right out on me
And if the sun comes up tomorrow
Let her be...let her be.
Let her cry...if the tears fall down like rain
Let her sing...if it eases all her pain
Let her go...let her walk right out on me
And if the sun comes up tomorrow
Let her be...let her be.

song performed by by Hootie & The Blowfish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Poems, Prayers & Promises

This song appears on twelve albums, and was first released on the poems,
Prayers & promises album, then the very best of john denver (double cd), this
Is john denver, the country roads collection and the rocky mountain collection
Albums, and has also been recorded on the greatest hits vol 1, john denver
(italian) and rocky mountain holiday albums. live versions also appear on the
An evening with john denver, country classics, the wildlife concert and the
Very best of john denver live albums.
Ive been lately thinking
About my lifes time
All the things Ive done
And how its been
And I cant help believing
In my own mind
I know Im gonna hate to see it end
Ive seen a lot of sunshine
Slept out in the rain
Spent a night or two all on my own
Ive known my ladys pleasures
Had myself some friends
And spent a time or two in my own home
And I have to say it now
Its been a good life all in all
Its really fine
To have a chance to hang around
And lie there by the fire
And watch the evening tire
While all my friends and my old lady
Sit and pass the pipe around
And talk of poems and prayers and promises
And things that we believe in
How sweet it is to love someone
How right it is to care
How long its been since yesterday
And what about tomorrow
And what about our dreams
And all the memories we share
The days they pass so quickly now
Nights are seldom long
And time around me whispers when its cold
The changes somehow frighten me
Still I have to smile
It turns me on to think of growing old
For though my lifes been good to me
Theres still so much to do
So many things my mind has never known
Id like to raise a family
Id like to sail away
And dance across the mountains on the moon
I have to say it now
Its been a good life all in all
Its really fine
To have the chance to hang around
And lie there by the fire
And watch the evening tire
While all my friends and my old lady
Sit and pass the pipe around
And talk of poems and prayers and promises
And things that we believe in
How sweet it is to love someone
How right it is to care
How long its been since yesterday
What about tomorrow
What about our dreams
And all the memories we share
Words and music by john denver

song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!