Summer Afternoon
I watched as swans went gliding by,
Gazing at gracefulness so sleek,
Then spied a dancing dragonfly,
Displaying its beauty, so unique.
And as I sat down by the stream,
The swans majestic, drifted on,
A sight of enchantment so supreme,
As on this scene, the sunbeams shone.
With rippling sounds that filled the air,
So restful that such a gentle tune,
Made this a place extraordinaire,
There, this mild summer afternoon.
The wind moved softly down the creek,
And whispered to the swaying grass,
As if to say, with tongue-in-cheek,
Bow down. Let me unhindered pass.
And so the swans sailed out of view,
Around the bend and out of sight,
The dragonfly with thoughts anew,
Flew off into the warm sunlight.
Thus I was left to contemplate,
How calm and still, this quiet place,
How such a spot can encapsulate,
And my weary heart to so embrace.
poem by Ernestine Northover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Summer Floats As A Waltzing Swan
Summer floats like a swan
Gracefully with blossoms so fair
Swans waltzing with melodious flare
Dancing in the lakes and streams
With wings of Summery dreams
Stargazer lilies of the mountains
The lily pods in the fountains
Floating sublime without a care
As Summer's fragrance fills the air
And her wings gently splash the
Sparkling waters of pulchritude rare
As we the dreamers stop to stare. Summer floats like a swan
Like nature's ballerina on the lakes
Dancing with her ballet slippers on
Gliding to the wistful mood
The Song of the Summer woods,
The beauteous Waltz of the Swans.
Summer's moments, the heart's keepsakes
Moments never forgotten in the sparkling
Crystal waters kissed by the sun.
The overture of nature's orchestra
The swans in aquatic Arabesque
A musical arpeggio, one by one.
poem by Carolyn Padgett Summerlin
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Ingratitude
when the dragonfly
got lost in the woods,
the wind accommodated it
pushing it towards
its home,
when the wind travels and passes
over the dragonfly town
it looks for that blue dragonfly that it helped one time
in the woods,
the wind asks for nothing
but the dragonfly so safe in its house
looks at the wind
not even mentioning its name
it hurts so the wind goes away
as usual
on same spirited wings not asking for anything
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dragonfly
I will never let you down
I will always be around
In the time we are here
Well see love disappear
Dont ask how
Dont ask why
Just fly, dragonfly
Just fly, dragonfly
I will never bring you down
I will always stick around
I will heat you when youre cold
In the time we have left
Well raise eyes to the sky
Dont ask how
Dont ask why
Just fly, dragonfly
Just fly, dragonfly
Dont ask how
Dont ask why
Just fly, dragonfly
Just fly, fly, fly dragonfly
song performed by by A-Ha
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Swans
Two swans sit alone on a lake
Looking so peaceful,
Poised on the tranquil waters.
The air around them is calm,
A gentle breeze wafting,
Gliding through their white feathers.
They are caressed by the pine scents
And the delicate balance
Of their surroundings.
The sky above is blue,
Almost cloudless and clear,
But a few pillows float overhead.
The trees stand tall beside the lake,
Watching the swans
Swim on the surface.
They swim majestically,
Beautifully,
In the recreational park.
Under their webbed feet,
Abandoned garbage sifts—
The collected lost trinkets of lazy people.
Twenty feet from the lake,
There is a parking lot
Filled with automobiles
With rust crusting on the hood
And near the synthetic rubber tires.
The people that own the cars
Are feeding the geese bleached white Wonder bread.
They leave their Coke bottles
And Doritos bags on the ground,
Ready to be carried away by the wind.
The swans watch the people.
Later, one of them
Will stick its neck
Into the plastic hole
Of a Coke bottle container
And choke
And choke
And choke
And choke.
It will die.
The other swan will watch,
Helpless and screaming,
Unable to do anything.
Some people will watch,
In awe,
Some excited.
poem by Tim Stensloff
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If there is one thing worse than being an ugly duckling in a house of swans, it's having the swans pretend there's no difference.
quote by Teena Booth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The eyes of impressionism
Saints.
Like swans, gliding untroubled so it seems
to us, lazing on the river bank
of a Seurat summer Sunday afternoon,
gliding over the surface of the waters
as love perhaps, on that first day;
they as floating symbols
of the beauty beyond beauty;
their work, invisible to us who watch
Painters.
Like waterlilies, resting in perfection
on the surface of the waters
as love rests, sure of their own beauty;
painting just the sunlight
falling on things, moving on
more slowly than we see;
the depth of the waters
in the painter’s mind and heart;
his work invisible to us who watch
his dabbing at the canvas
as a dabchick bobs in the water, his mind
moving as time moves;
for him, sitting at the canvas,
always time present,
in the water-garden already on his palette
Cataracts.
How far a word from
the stillness around him as he sits,
his beard a little yellow from the nicotine,
seeing the waterlilies as if for the first time,
but each year the water seems to tell
more about time itself… like Proust;
where is time going in this painting?
Eyes.
Cataracts, yes; but perhaps over time
they too have sought to serve him,
become themselves, impressionists,
presenting him with images
prepared like canvasses are prepared;
gently watering inner gardens
between the eyes and mind
yes, that’s Monsieur Monet over there;
don’t disturb him; but if you stand
a little way behind him, you just may
enter the stillness around him,
enter the stillness of his mind,
see with his eyes, that work
invisible to those of us who watch
which swans and saints and artists know.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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The Frog and the Dragonfly
From the pond they both came
Hatching and making their debut
Both a gift from the water’s edge
One hopped and the other flew
As the frog searched for sustenance
He spied a bug and waited patiently
In a flash he swallowed with a gulp
He digested his treat quite efficiently
The dragonfly’s wings beat at a rapid rate
Mosquitoes offered an array of delight
Hovering momentarily, then plunging…
The dragonfly seized its dinner in flight
Then one sunny day it came to be
That bulging eyes anticipated a feast
The amphibious one was famished
Soon the dragonfly would be deceased
In a fleeting second, the action concluded
The sleek winged delicacy was out of reach
Too fast… too quick to become a banquet
The disappointed frog returned to the beach
As a shadow from a feathered predator was cast
A leap and a splash secured appreciated safety
Suddenly sympathy recalled the dragonfly’s escape
Now the frog understood the food chain in its entirety
poem by Theresa Ann Moore
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Swans
Night is over the park, and a few brave stars
Look on the lights that link it with chains of gold,
The lake bears up their reflection in broken bars
That seem too heavy for tremulous water to hold.
We watch the swans that sleep in a shadowy place,
And now and again one wakes and uplifts its head;
How still you are -- your gaze is on my face --
We watch the swans and never a word is said.
poem by Sara Teasdale
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Ladylove
There once was a lady by the name of Ladylove,
who was said to be a saint sent from above.
But no one knew just who she was;
a ghost indeed was she, was she.
She approached a swain one day, one sorrowful day;
stealing his heart as she ran away.
She left with a flutter in a moonlit still,
her beauty graces her for a splendid time.
She haste to a pond of midnight glow,
a lad soon followed as he watched her go.
She looked in his eyes with sadness there,
looking away as she's engulfed in light.
She step a foot in glistening water still,
meandering a swan not by will.
The boy he haste to grasp her hand,
letting his love guide as they shift to swans;
he a swan of black and she white,
they soar now into the ever moonlight.
The story now told of a love everlasting,
of two young swans, on moonlit casting.
poem by Adam M. Snow
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The Summer Sun Shone Round Me
THE summer sun shone round me,
The folded valley lay
In a stream of sun and odour,
That sultry summer day.
The tall trees stood in the sunlight
As still as still could be,
But the deep grass sighed and rustled
And bowed and beckoned me.
The deep grass moved and whispered
And bowed and brushed my face.
It whispered in the sunshine:
"The winter comes apace."
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
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Trumpeter Swans
TRUMPETER SWANS
Neither prone to liaison
Prefer to mate for life
“Trumpeter Swans”
Unto afterlife
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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summer lake cruise
gliding through the noon heat too
two white swans
haiku by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dragonfly Silhouette in the Sun
Dragonfly dances ballet,
silhouette in the pale sun,
gracious and free,
with wings befog of motions,
glides upon the warm zephyr
a magical vision of beauty.
A waltz of colors and movements,
it threads enchantments on the viewer.
With each murmur and flutter of wings
it paints a unique and alive painting;
Dragonfly silhouette in the sun.
poem by Marius Alexandru (2023)
Submitted by anonym
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Dragonfly
Id rather live than just imagine
Dont think there is a way around
And if I fail Ill still be standing
With my feet firmly on the ground.
Through my window from the sky
Flows a lullaby
Someomes waiting in my dream
Taking me to places Ive never seen.
If I had some wings then I could fly (dragonfly)
In my dreams
I am the the dragonfly (dragonfly)
I guess I always will be searching
I live and learn from my mistakes
And all the love that Im expecting
Is equal to the love I make.
Little dreamer when evening falls. shadows fall
Bring some honey for my soul
Take me to the places Ive never been.
If I had some wings then I could fly (dragonfly)
In my dreams I am the dragonfly (dragonfly).
song performed by by Yngwie Malmsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dragonfly
Id rather live than just imagine
Dont think there is a way around
And if I fail Ill still be standing
With my feet firmly on the ground.
Through my window from the sky
Flows a lullaby
Someomes waiting in my dream
Taking me to places Ive never seen.
If I had some wings then I could fly (dragonfly)
In my dreams
I am the the dragonfly (dragonfly)
I guess I always will be searching
I live and learn from my mistakes
And all the love that Im expecting
Is equal to the love I make.
Little dreamer when evening falls. shadows fall
Bring some honey for my soul
Take me to the places Ive never been.
If I had some wings then I could fly (dragonfly)
In my dreams I am the dragonfly (dragonfly).
song performed by by Yngwie Malmsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Early Works - Compartments Of Splendour
I sit here beside a river of sorts
with reed and underwater weed not far apart.
As the sun catches the waves
made by a gentle breeze
it looks like diamonds
dancing on a velvet background.
With gulls overhead,
swans gently swim through the waves
now the scene
for an artist playground is laid.
Date Unknown.
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lewti, Or The Circassian Love-Chaunt
At midnight by the stream I roved,
To forget the form I loved.
Image of Lewti! from my mind
Depart; for Lewti is not kind.
The Moon was high, the moonlight gleam
And the shadow of a star
Heaved upon Tamaha's stream;
But the rock shone brighter far,
The rock half sheltered from my view
By pendent boughs of tressy yew.--
So shines my Lewti's forehead fair,
Gleaming through her sable hair,
Image of Lewti! from my mind
Depart; for Lewti is not kind.
I saw a cloud of palest hue,
Onward to the moon it passed;
Still brighter and more bright it grew,
With floating colours not a few,
Till it reach'd the moon at last:
Then the cloud was wholly bright,
With a rich and amber light!
And so with many a hope I seek
And with such joy I find my Lewti;
And even so my pale wan cheek
Drinks in as deep a flush of beauty!
Nay, treacherous image! leave my mind,
If Lewti never will be kind.
The little cloud-it floats away,
Away it goes; away so soon?
Alas! it has no power to stay:
Its hues are dim, its hues are grey--
Away it passes from the moon!
How mournfully it seems to fly,
Ever fading more and more,
To joyless regions of the sky--
And now 'tis whiter than before!
As white as my poor cheek will be,
When, Lewti! on my couch I lie,
A dying man for love of thee.
Nay, treacherous image! leave my mind--
And yet, thou didst not look unkind.
I saw a vapour in the sky,
Thin, and white, and very high;
I ne'er beheld so thin a cloud:
Perhaps the breezes that can fly
Now below and now above,
Have snatched aloft the lawny shroud
Of Lady fair--that died for love.
For maids, as well as youths, have perished
From fruitless love too fondly cherished.
Nay, treacherous image! leave my mind--
For Lewti never will be kind.
Hush! my heedless feet from under
Slip the crumbling banks for ever:
Like echoes to a distant thunder,
They plunge into the gentle river.
The river-swans have heard my tread,
And startle from their reedy bed.
O beauteous birds! methinks ye measure
Your movements to some heavenly tune!
O beauteous birds! 'tis such a pleasure
To see you move beneath the moon,
I would it were your true delight
To sleep by day and wake all night.
I know the place where Lewti lies
When silent night has closed her eyes:
It is a breezy jasmine-bower,
The nightingale sings o'er her head:
Voice of the Night! had I the power
That leafy labyrinth to thread,
And creep, like thee, with soundless tread,
I then might view her bosom white
Heaving lovely to my sight,
As these two swans together heave
On the gently-swelling wave.
Oh! that she saw me in a dream,
And dreamt that I had died for care;
All pale and wasted I would seem
Yet fair withal, as spirits are!
I'd die indeed, if I might see
Her bosom heave, and heave for me!
Soothe, gentle image! soothe my mind!
To-morrow Lewti may be kind.
poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
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A Warm Summer Breeze
The trees whisper in the breeze
The forest peaceful, quiet, and serene.
The warm breeze like a soft caress,
Momentarily eliminating all stress.
Without delay it carries on
Leaving the place in silence when it's gone.
A summer day, a summer breeze,
Softly whispered through the trees.
The summer breeze, softly it comes,
Quickly it leaves,
Causing soft whispers in the trees.
It came and soon left, a warm summer breeze.
poem by Theo Townend
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Wild Swans
I looked in my heart while the wild swans went over.
And what did I see I had not seen before?
Only a question less or a question more:
Nothing to match the flight of wild birds flying.
Tiresome heart, forever living and dying,
House without air, I leave you and lock your door.
Wild swans, come over the town, come over
The town again, trailing your legs and crying!
poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay
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Lazy Afternoon
Listening to the haunting voice of Nina Simone
Celebrating time to myself as a temporary loan
Everything is quiet but thoughts are invading
Giving in to temptation reality is slowly fading
Crisp white cotton sheets feel cool on my skin
Soft fluffy clouds granting the remission of sin
Blinds filter the light and the room has a glow
Thoughts of the hierophant from a spread of Tarot
Floating on a dark stream in a great big seashell
Pulled by graceful swans wishing me farewell
I'm dreaming of a dark forest with huge oak trees
A place among moist tall grass puts me at ease
Memories of past times surface on a lazy afternoon
Leaning against the piano like resting in a saloon
Time seems to stand still drowning all evil and fears
While it gets darker outside and the moon appears
A lazy afternoon gives way to a sensual dark night
And thoughts of the one I love urgently excite
Thundering waves rolling in and brake on shore
He undresses slowly after walking through the door
poem by Kristina Louisa Carr
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