Harvest time
Pillowed and hushed on the silent plain,
Wrapped in her mantle of golden grain,
Wearied of pleasuring weeks away,
Summer is lying asleep to-day,--
Where winds come sweet from the wild-rose briers
And the smoke of the far-off prairie fires;
Yellow her hair as the goldenrod,
And brown her cheeks as the prairie sod;
Purple her eyes as the mists that dream
At the edge of some laggard sun-drowned stream;
But over their depths the lashes sweep,
For Summer is lying to-day asleep.
The north wind kisses her rosy mouth,
His rival frowns in the far-off south,
And comes caressing her sunburnt cheek,
And Summer awakes for one short week,--
Awakes and gathers her wealth of grain,
Then sleeps and dreams for a year again.
poem by Emily Pauline Johnson
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The quill worker
Plains, plains, and the prairie land which the sunlight floods and fills,
To the north the open country, southward the Cyprus Hills;
Never a bit of woodland, never a rill that flows,
Only a stretch of cactus beds, and the wild, sweet prairie rose;
Never a habitation, save where in the far south-west
A solitary tepee lifts its solitary crest,
Where Neykia in the doorway, crouched in the red sunshine,
Broiders her buckskin mantle with the quills of the porcupine.
Neykia, the Sioux chief's daughter, she with the foot that flies,
She with the hair of midnight and the wondrous midnight eyes,
She with the deft brown fingers, she with the soft, slow smile,
She with the voice of velvet and the thoughts that dream the while,--
"Whence come the vague to-morrows? Where do the yesters fly?
What is beyond the border of the prairie and the sky?
Does the maid in the Land of Morning sit in the red sunshine,
Broidering her buckskin mantle with the quills of the porcupine?"
So Neykia, in the westland, wonders and works away,
Far from the fret and folly of the "Land of Waking Day."
And many the pale-faced trader who stops at the tepee door
For a smile from the sweet, shy worker, and a sigh when the hour is o'er.
For they know of a young red hunter who oftentimes has stayed
To rest and smoke with her father, tho' his eyes were on the maid;
And the moons will not be many ere she in the red sunshine
Will broider his buckskin mantle with the quills of the porcupine.
poem by Emily Pauline Johnson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Summer Dream
As I sleep under the summer sun I dream of a maiden of beauty
I see the wind in her hair like that of wind moving the summer grass in a field
I see her eyes that sparkle like that of sun gleaming off the lake on a summer day
I see her warm face like that of a summer white rose, soft and beautiful to the touch
I see her lips sweet and red like the berries on the summer vine
Then as I wake I see your beautiful face and know you are my dream
8-19-09
poem by Timothy Honeycutt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Summer Wind
The summer wind, came blowin' in
From across the sea
It lingered there, to touch you hair
And walk with me
All summer long, we sang a song
And strolled the golden sand
Two sweethearts, and the summer wind
Like painted kites, the days and nights went flyin' by
The world was new, beneath a blue umbrella sky
Then softer than, a piper man one day it called to you
And I lost you, to the summer wind
The autumn wind, and the winter winds have come and gone
And still the days, the lonely days go on and on
And guess who sighs his lullabies through nights that never end
Well my fickle friend, the summer wind
That old summer wind
Talkin' 'bout the summer wind
The summer wind
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Flightless Man runs
He awakes all the night
and sleeps in the day.
Loves the darkness
where he see things better.
Yes, eyes can see only up to the infinity.
but for a strong heart there is no any limitations.
When they were asleep all are alike.
You see the difference
only when they are awake.
Nocturne describes the sick world
and her innermost nakedness.
In the midday how they run eagerly?
Oh! my beloved it's not a colourful dream
not a silken road or a prairie.
The meaningless marathon inside the life it seems
very sad and dreary.
The pragmatic handicaps are imposed to the competition.
for my b'day boy Denis.Joe.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Summer Steam
Lying next to a summer stream,
With your beauty in my dreams.
I dream of your beauty as I lay amongst the flowers,
Your beauty rains amongst my dreams like a summer shower.
Your beauty rages through my mind like a stormy wind,
I pray to God not to let this dream to never end.
5-15-09
poem by Timothy Honeycutt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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American Prairie
10’ tall Big bluestem…
Once flourished there, now almost gone
Creamy yellow blossoms of Plains wild Indigo
White prairie Phlox and…
Bright yellow Prairie Ragwort
Tiny dark-blue Downy Gentian
Grasses fade from bluish purple
to copper-tan and wine-red.
Compass Plant leaves point only north and south
And it’s sap a natural chewing gum
Short grasses in the shadow…
of the Rocky Mountains
Tall wind shimmered grass
from Manitoba to Texas
Soil with the exotic name of Loess
Composed of glacial born rock dust
Leavened with wind borne debris.
Fields of ten foot tall Sun Flowers
Beauty and history… in land never tilled
Russets, …yellows… and purples
Dancing in the never-ceasing wind
poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Summer's Yearnings
Summer's eyes look me for heat and flowers
succeeding the spring buds with which adorned her
I am cast as Spring Calling
buds my Siren Flowers
I rose
inside her
flower petal Springings
because I
heat from inside
lying down with her Summer Fevered Longings.
Her roses bloom from my Spring Pollinations;
I give her Summer Glory
and and receives
all my Spring
Offerings.
'What good it be
dressed up in Summer Light' you say
'in Summer Jasmine Perfumes
if you do not arrive each time
to kiss me in my feverish night? '
'What sates sweet summer lips' longings
without your spring kisses joining
kisses which seal our souls
In unspoken understandings;
lips which kiss and hold in the secret night
hearts pounding
melding souls
swept up in destiny's yearnings
you offering a wet mouth
I a crimson cheek quivering
we two lost in Shudderings Desire
which press us two together
two on two
making then between us
Love's Single Season.
because lovers
make things
previously apart
into One
and
Discrete Time
fades into
into
Summer's Eternities.'
poem by Lonnie Hicks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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One Summer Dream
Deep waters flow, out to the sea,
They never needed you or me.
One summer dream, one summer dream.
Blue mountains high and valley low,
I dont know which way I should go,
One summer dream, one summer dream.
Warm summer breeze blows endlessly,
Touching the hearts of those who feel,
One summer dream, one summer dream.
Bird on wing goes floating by,
But theres a teardrop in his eye,
One summer dream, one summer dream.
One summer dream, one summer dream.
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Summer Fever
Winds may come and the winds may flow
But theres no wind can cool me of my fever, summer fever
Summer fever
Time of love, time of year
Temperatures rising, our bodies near in fever, summer fever
Summer fever
A heat-wave run, a dog-day night
Were making love, things are right, its fever, summer fever
Summer fever
You burn so deep with your love so sweet
And you satisfy and mystify my fever, summer fever
Summer fever
Body to body, arms entwined
Locked in your love, feeling fine with fever, summer fever
Summer fever
Time of love, time of year
Temperatures rising, our bodies near in fever, summer fever
Summer fever
Winds may come and the winds may blow
But theres no wind can cool me of my fever, summer fever
Summer fever
You burn so deep with your love so sweet
And you satisfy and mystify my fever, summer fever
Summer fever
Fever, summer fever
Fever, summer fever
song performed by by Donna Summer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On a picture
When Summer o'er her native hills
A veil of beauty spread,
She sat and watched her gentle fold,
And twined her flaxen thread.
The mountain daisies kissed her feet,
The moss sprung greenest there;
The breath of Summer fanned her cheek,
And tossed her wavy hair.
The heather and the yellow gorse
Bloomed over hill and wold,
And clothed them in a royal robe
Of purple and of gold.
There rose the sky-lark's gushing song;
There hummed the laboring bee;
And merrily the mountain stream
Ran singing to the sea.
But while she missed from those sweet sounds,
The voice she sighed to hear;
The song of bee, and bird, and stream,
Was discord to her ear.
Nor could the bright green world around
A joy to her impart,
For still she missed the eyes that made
The summer of her heart.
poem by Anne Lynch Botta from Poems (1848)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Sweet Summer Lovin
Though the sun may be dawning
Youre the one that lights the morning
As I awake to the heaven
Of your sweet summer lovin
By a stream in the country
Running barefoot and feeling free
While the love in our hearts blend
Into sweet summer lovin
Sweet summer lovin in the dandelions
Sweet summer lovin keeps me high as candy wine
When that big red balloon sets
Like a painting across the west
As the sky turns a crimson blue
As the world turns for me and you
By the light of the moon glowing
While the warm summer wind blows
cross the sill of your window
Well be letting our love flow
Sweet summer lovin in the dandelions
Sweet summer lovin keeps me high as candy wine
Sweet summer lovin in the dandelions
Sweet summer lovin keeps me high as candy wine
Sweet summer lovin
Sweet summer lovin
Mmm...
Sweet summer lovin
Mmm...
Sweet summer lovin
I love your sweet summer lovin
Sweet summer lovin
Sweet summer lovin
Mmm...
Sweet summer lovin
Mmm...
Sweet summer lovin
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Winds Of Summer
WINDS OF SUMMER
Just out of the winds of summer
Came forth a being so sweet and tender.
With a smile that brought forth a stream
Flowing with pure love thus radiant.
Winds of summer blow forth forever
For the love you bring lives on forever.
Winds of summer, winds of love,
Me and my lover forever with each other.
Just out of the winds of summer
Our love grew into a hot flowing lava.
Like little angels we played and laughed at each other.
For the moment those winds of summer came
They carried us in their wings.
poem by Tigana Chileshe
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Life And Death
Life is not sweet. One day it will be sweet
To shut our eyes and die:
Nor feel the wild flowers blow, nor birds dart by
With flitting butterfly,
Nor grass grow long above our heads and feet,
Nor hear the happy lark that soars sky high,
Nor sigh that spring is fleet and summer fleet,
Nor mark the waxing wheat,
Nor know who sits in our accustomed seat.
Life is not good. One day it will be good
To die, then live again;
To sleep meanwhile: so not to feel the wane
Of shrunk leaves dropping in the wood,
Nor hear the foamy lashing of the main,
Nor mark the blackened bean-fields, nor where stood
Rich ranks of golden grain
Only dead refuse stubble clothe the plain:
Asleep from risk, asleep from pain.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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Serenade from “The Spanish Student”
STARS of the summer night!
Far in yon azure deeps,
Hide, hide your golden light!
She sleeps!
My lady sleeps!
Sleeps!
Moon of the summer night!
Far down yon western steeps,
Sink, sink in silver light!
She sleeps!
My lady sleeps!
Sleeps!
Wind of the summer night!
Where yonder woodbine creeps,
Fold, fold thy pinions light!
She sleeps!
My lady sleeps!
Sleeps!
Dreams of the summer night!
Tell her, her lover keeps
Watch! while in slumbers light
She sleeps!
My lady sleeps!
Sleeps!
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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My Summer
my summer is boring
my summer is wake
my summer is harebell
my summer is stupid
my summer is in my sisters house
my summer is in a sweet 16 prates
my summer is in my cozens house
my summer is away from my house
my summer is just dome
my summer is boring
my summer is messing my men
my summer is the worst summer of my bf
i wish i was whet my men this summer
i wish i was happy in the summer.
my bday is in the summer
this summer is just this summer: (
poem by Jencelyn Marin
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Turning Leaf
The nights are growing short once more
As Autumn opens Winters door
And Summer sleeping beauty casts
Into the web of woven pasts
So sleeping there 'til Spring awakes
And from her dreams the Summer shakes.
poem by David Lacey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Summer Once Again
The seasons goes by.
Fall is when every this starts falling asleep,
Winter is when everything is a slumber
But not theones how are awake.
Spring is when everything starts comeing alive.
But Summer is the season when everything is alive,
When the Flowers are folly blom,
The leave are green and dancing in the wind.
Summer is worm,
Summer is when all the birds sing,
Summer is my beloved season.
When My beloved summer comes i am happy,
When my beloved summer comes I live.
But when it ends I am sad.
Until next year I will wait.
poem by Sandy Kulchyski
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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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By The Annisquam
A Far bell tinkles in the hollow,
And heart and soul are fain to follow:
Gone is the rose and gone the swallow:
Autumn is here.
The wild geese draw at dusk their harrow
Above the 'Squam the ebb leaves narrow:
The sea-winds chill you to the marrow:
Sad goes the year.
Among the woods the crows are calling:
The acorns and the leaves are falling:
At sea the fishing-boats are trawling:
Autumn is here.
The jay among the rocks is screaming,
And every way with crimson streaming:
Far up the shore the foam is creaming:
Sleep fills the Year.
The chipmunk on the stones is barking;
The red leaf every path is marking,
Where hills lean to the ocean harking:
Autumn is here.
The fields are starry with the aster,
Where Beauty dreams and dim Disaster
Draws near through mists that gather faster:
Farewell, sweet Year.
Beside the coves driftwood is burning,
And far at sea white sails are turning:
Each day seems filled with deeper yearning:
Autumn is here.
'Good-bye! good-bye!' the Summer's saying:
'Brief was my day as songs of Maying:
The time is come for psalms and praying:
Good-bye, sweet Year.'
Brown bend the ferns by rock and boulder;
The shore seems greyer; ocean older:
The days are misty; nights are colder:
Autumn is here.
The cricket in the grass is crying,
And sad winds in the old woods sighing;
They seem to say, 'Sweet Summer's dying:
Weep for the Year.
'She's wreathed her hair with bay and berry,
And o'er dark pools, the wild-fowl ferry,
Leans dreaming 'neath the wilding cherry:
Autumn is here.
'Good-bye! good-bye to Summer's gladness:
To all her beauty, mirth and madness:
Come sit with us and dream in sadness:
So ends the Year.'
poem by Madison Julius Cawein
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cafes In Damascus
LANGUIDLY the night-wind bloweth
From the gardens round,
Where the clear Barrada floweth
With a lulling sound.
Not the lute-note's sweet shiver
Can such music find,
As is on a wandering river,
On a wandering wind.
There the Moslem leaneth, dreaming
O'er the inward world,
While around the fragrant steaming
Of the smoke is curled.
Rising from the coffee berry,
Dark grape of the South;
Or the pipe of polished cherry,
With its amber mouth.
Cooled by passing through the water,
Gurgling as it flows—
Scented by the Summer's daughter,
June's impassioned rose.
By that rose's spirit haunted
Are the dreams that rise,
Of far lands, and lives enchanted,
And of deep black eyes.
Thus with some sweet dream's assistance,
Float they down life's stream;
Would to heaven our whole existence
Could be such a dream!
poem by Letitia Elizabeth Landon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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