Related quotes: Gently the sun oozes through...

Gently The Sun Oozes

Gently the sun oozes through the big old tree
where we both linger for moments in the shade,
around us the garden is bright like a painting,
blades of grass are knee high in the veldt
across the road where plovers are calling each other
and glowing white the moon hangs in the blue sky;
it's as if I am dreaming as you do really love me
and unexpectedly you squeeze my hand and I get a kiss.

poem by Gert Strydom
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Related quotes

My Drug Dealer

Today-
I asked myself.

Why are the oak tree’s purple?
And the grass blue?

Why is the sky green?
And the leaves hot pink?

Why is that gravel red?
And the rocks of that garden yellow?

Then I thought
and thought over again
a million times

and realized...

I’m high.

I’m up higher than the orange clouds in the green sky
My heart is as bright as the rocks of that garden

My thoughts are as eccentric as the hot pink color of the leaves
that fell from the purple tree

My eyelashes flutter flirtatiously like the way the wind
blows the blue blades of grass around.

Love is a drug,
and I’m high-

You happen to be my dealer.

poem by Breanna Schwartz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sometimes I imagine

Sometimes I imagine
that my D Jacobs painting
of a red brown earth road
that in winter
runs through the yellow green veldt
past a few oak and blue gum trees
to the purple blue mountains
in the distance
is a Pierneef,

but what draws it nearer to me,
is that I almost feel
the sand beneath me feet,
can smell the tussocks of grass,
try to catch the shades of the trees
one by one,
see a graveyard
in the distance next to
a few bushes,
look at the bright blue sky
and get emotionally involved
with this painting
as it brings my childhood days
back to me
and it jumps right
into my heart.

[Reference: Painting by D Jacobs that belongs to me.]

poem by Gert Strydom
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Drinking In Sunshine

The day is glowing,
the leaves in the trees
glow with an inner light,
the grass bright, the sky
an intense blue canopy
framing the scene

I partake of the glorious day
slumbering in the sun, glowing
in its might, dreaming a little bit
while my legs are growing red
and the shade keeps running
away, I keep moving my chair

Drinking in sunshine and life

poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Through the window the new moon peeps

(For Daleen)

Through the window the new moon peeps,
many stars glitter blue-white
where they sit glowing in the darkness,
like diamonds at which I look,
when the ginger cat stands in the windowsill,
next to me the moon falls on your face
and it looks as if you are dreaming,
as the lights of a car passes
and I am blessed to have you here,
with your intimate heat next to me,
but it's only a dream in which I dare this
as if a thousand nights will be such
and I am free of my worries,
it's as if everything fades in your presence.

It's as if everything fades in your presence
as if the past, times and things do not touch me,
when we are together and small things make you happy
as if nobody else does anymore matter
and with the magic that spring brings
there are new green sprouts rising,
in the garden it's as if the grass suddenly jumps,
I see irises already blooming purple in pots,
I see all the beauty that this spring brings
and all of the flowers that I can get
are far too insignificant
as you are very dear to me
but I do continually long for you,
even when the sun hangs magically in the sky.

III

Even when the sun hangs magically in the sky,
my life feels empty without you,
even if the sky is cobalt blue,
even if the rays of the sun catch me caressingly,
I am still like a child scared of darkness,
while I long to hold your hand, to embrace you,
while I want to know you better and want to trust you
in all the days of spring
and I wonder about your thoughts,
where you are now sitting in an office,
or does life also pass you,
while you drink a cup of tea
in a place with many white papers;
do you have any time to think of me?

Do you have any time to think of me,
I wonder, while I am working in the garden
and I do not immediately notice you
while I am mowing the lawn
and I see a dove gliding over the earth
with no clouds in the deep blue sky,
where it stretches out with brightness above me
and irises and roses are flowering where you sit down.
I kiss you and do it another time
where we are alone in the back garden,
I am caught and you sweep me along
right here in the bright daylight,
and the bright sun falls over us
when I give my self to you.

When I give my self to you
and share my deepest secrets,
when you walk deep into my heart
and know me thoroughly
then I tell you about my life
and you learn that love comes from God,
and love has a new much deeper meaning
and I am astounded by your beauty time after time.
You are the summer child, the morning sun,
you are mine before the people and God
of light my only real source
and more precious than any human law
but then I suddenly wake up and want to cling to you;
in this late summer I miss you.

In this late summer I miss you,
the separation of moments comes
in every small thing that I notice
and it reflects your image and your name.
I can hear birds whistling in the trees,
even feel the soft wind caressing my skin,
but you are the source of my heat,
the loveliest song that plays right through my heart
and I wonder if a person looses some humanity
when you trust somebody totally,
when you make deeper bonds,
when you cling to someone else in rapture?
Outside lights beacon lonely;
your voice over the phone makes my heart frolic.

VII

Your voice over the phone makes my heart frolic
when it sounds like that of a young girl,
when your image shines like that of an angel
and I am searching for flowers not just a poppy
but something precious that I want to pick for you,
when you bring me joy
and I want to embrace you for moments
while I wonder how that sensation will last
as the miles is some distance
but the yellow sun shines bright through your words
and suddenly my life feels right
as if radiated from a heavenly source,
our conversation stretches long, goes on and on;
through the window the new moon peeps.

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Moon Over The Pond

the moon sits over the pond
her legs refracted
in shimmers

her gown spreading love
all over the grass

the grasses seep every delight
satisfy their blades
and then soundly sleep

the little blue bird high up
on the tree
looks with all wonder

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Mind Like A Tree

Music :rudolf schenker, peter wolf
Lyrics:klaus meine
Come with me come with me now
Inside the garden
Inside the garden of god
Smell the sand its running through your hands
Its where were from
And where well go in the end
Hear me calling
Hear me calling
Hear me calling
Hear me calling
Hear me calling
Hear me calling
My mind is like a tree
And I want you to water me
You gotta spread the
You gotta spread the seed
Hear me calling
Hear me calling
Hear me calling
Hear me calling
Hear me calling
Hear me calling
Sit in the shadow just smell the grass
Where the past is buried
Where the future grows so fast
My mind is like a tree
And I want you to water me
You gotta spread the
You gotta spread the seed
Hear me calling
Hear me calling
Hear me calling
Hear me calling
Hear me calling
Hear me calling
You touch me so
You touch me so deep
I only wish my eyes could see
The way you feel for me
Hear me calling
Hear me calling
Hear me calling
My mind is like a tree
And I want you to water me
My mind is like a tree
And I want you to water me
You gotta spread the
You gotta spread the seed
Hear me calling
Hear me calling
Hear me calling
Hear me calling
Hear me calling
Hear me calling
Take my hand
Make me see

song performed by by Scorpions
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bright Lights

The bright lights are calling me
The bright lights are calling me
When the world is dark and cold
And Im heading down the road
The bright lights are calling me
As the world is round, the road is long
Ive trouble on my mind
Ill just keep on moving
Until the day comes round
The wind a blowing on my back
And my feet a flying
Flying down the road
Where the bright lights shine
Mondays in a pigtown
Tuesdays in a truck
Wednesdays a field of mud
And thursdays out of luck
Fridays rain clouds
Saturday flies by
Sunday comes shining
From a blue blue sky
The bright lights are calling me
The bright lights are calling me
When the world is dark and cold
And Im heading down the road
The bright lights are calling me
Some towns are golden
Some towns are stained
Some towns are shadows
Fading in the rain
Some towns are rust
And some towns they gleam
Some towns are mad dogs
Some towns are a dream
The bright lights are calling me
The bright lights are calling me
When the world is dark and cold
And Im heading down the road
The bright lights are calling me
Some dreams are hollow
Some dreams are cold
Some dreams are crazy
And some dreams are bold
Some dreams are bought
And other dreams are sold
Some dreams lie waiting
At the end of the road
The bright lights are calling me
The bright lights are calling me
When the world is dark and cold
And Im heading down the road
The bright lights are calling me

song performed by by Pogues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Drought

Right through the veldt the grass are dried out yellow,
almost everything under the eye,
the sun burns trees and bushes,
whirlwinds blow red dust clouds high into the air

and it looks as if every bush and tree is stripped of leaves,
the sky is blue and open with all clouds missing
on farms cattle, bucks and sheep are bellowing and bleating
and farmers come to a confession

that all things comes from the hand of God, gather in towns
where they admit the dependence of man
where everything comes to a halt
and they pray to God for rain.

Even the most prominent people pray
while atheists sit in the bars
drinking tot after tot while moaning about the heat
and on the horizon lightning slams down white

while it’s pressing hot clouds gather
before a enormous rainstorm erupts,
a thunderbolt falls on the porch of a bar
rain rattles on the zinc roof

the thirsty red dust flies into the air with big drops falling,
are filled overnight with knee high green grass
and the animals that are feeding in the fields
go plumb to the markets.

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In My Childhood Days I Pick Lilies In The Marsh

In my childhood days I pick lilies in the marsh,
I pick lilies, the most beautiful that I can find
in colours of red, yellow and white
but now a tar road cuts past.
The highway runs almost to eternity,
I wonder where the dilapidation did start
see no coots, plovers calling
broken lies the marshland that I love
and I have to search into the bright blue
to cling to the untouched
while smoke clouds of white, yellow and grey hang
like a blanket that is folding over everything
while wealth increases, nature becomes distorted,
and the plain has offices that is encroaching it.

poem by Gert Strydom
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Very Deep In The Dark Moonlit Night

Very deep in the dark moonlit night
I still hear the sound of doves
where the whole night they coo, whisper and laugh;
I see the yellow moon glowing as a sickle
where it hangs high above the horizon,
there are thunderbolts lashing thundering,
in blinding flashes of blue-white light
with the doves scattering scared over the roof
when the storm walks nearer through the tree branches.

poem by Gert Strydom
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Walking The Baby Early Morning

early morning when the sun
shines mildly still behind the
green trees when the dew
still hangs on the blades of
the grass when the road is
still wet with the rain last
night

it is at this moment when
you walk the baby and you
hold his hand and you hear
him giggle

such a lovely picture of love
and a new beginning.......

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Path into the bushes

There’s a road like out of a dream
or a fairy tale
that twists into the bushes,
but it’s white and pure
with innocence where it snakes
into the undergrowth
and the sky is open
and blue white to the horizon.

I walk pass a great white tree
with orange brown leaves
that rises above me
and a long dried out tree
of which the branches
reach like fingers into the air.

I follow the path
to the long blue gum trees
that are covered
with dark green leaves
and the odour of the trees
and the wood
hangs heavy in the air
and there’s something concrete
that’s stronger than a dream

[Reference: Wooded landscape by Mandi. Look at the painting on my web page: http: //www.mabooki.com/poems/display/1413_Path_into_th e_bushes.htm]

poem by Gert Strydom
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Caught in time

There are great images and events
that for ever
are caught in my thoughts,
like pure mathematics,
where things doesn’t continue
and are frozen
while the clockwork stops striking.

The Eagle that tries to catch
a fish out of the water
of which the feathers
with the dive
rise up,
that hangs frozen
above the waves
before its claws
can ever break the waves.

The sun that stretches out
its first feelers over the horizon
and hillocks,
as if the bright day
never is going to brake.

‘a Golden full moon
that rules big and bright
over the night,
where it sits
halfway into the sky
as if it’s never
going to move further.

a Rainbow that brightly
touches the earth after the rain,
as if a painter
placed it perfectly
in a beautiful painting.

Lightning bolts that branch white-blue
in the night sky
and resound in the heaven,
as if they are never
going to strike the ground.

Rain that on a cloudless day
fall out of a blue sky,
while no thunder rumbles
anywhere near.

Maybe I can look at precious moments
that still stays with me,
and made a difference to my life.

The knowledge that a Almighty God
really exists
whose hand is stretched over my works
and just where I go,
I can see His influence
in everything around me.

The first time that I saw my darling
and the image that remains with me
of glowing golden eyes
and red-brown hair,
through which the sun shines
and my heart that felt
as if it wanted to stop in my chest.

The first nice kiss
that I got from her
and the fragrance of her perfume,
that forever
stays with me in my thoughts.

My child that gives the first cry,
as if there will be no other cries
that really matters.

The super hero
that I am in my children’s eyes,
as if no other man
can ever be better.

My dog that waits
day after day at the gate
and hops up and down from gladness
and barks and cries,
as if after a thousand years
I am returning home
and as if it has
no comprehension of time.

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Moon, We Look to You.

Moon, you have a shade of blue tonight –
Is it something that you saw or heard?
Only yesterday, your tone was proud and bright,
Yellow silver, full, and so assured.

Moon, despite the clarity of sky,
Metaphors of cloud that fluff with grey
Drift across your rounded face to spy;
Feeding back, there's awfully much to say.

Moon, you have a role to play up there –
We below must bear the earthly pain.
Duty bound, we shoulder sorrows fair –
You are free from our grotesque disdain.

Moon, we depend on you to shine
When the sun retires down below.
Add to that your grandest role divine:
Tidal Lord, to keep the seas in tow!

Moon, I hope you take to heart our plea –
Needless is the reason for your blue.
Beaming, you should give the night its glee:
We're despairing – so we look to you.

Moon moon, moon so blue, moon, moon so blue
Moon moon, moon so blue, moon, moon so blue
Moon moon, moon so blue, moon, moon so blue
Moon moon, moon so blue, moon, moon so blue
Moon moon, moon so blue, moon, moon so blue

poem by Mark R Slaughter
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How to paint a striking Rinkhals

Green knee high grass
paves, covers the veldt

making the snake's hideout
its place from where it sails.

First observe the snake
sneaking from the grass

while it passes camouflaged
to the next shade

or lies turned over
as if dead, showing its stomach

enticing you to pass, or to come near
to investigate,

maybe you'll see the stripes
ringing its neck

in colours of cream
or something near to white

or maybe you may not
when in terror astounded

to whoever looks
it flashes alive

like a lightning rod
with death sizzling out of its mouth

and if you can paint this
you have the essence of it,

making terror alive,
in a snake which looks placid

but which can spit and strike
carrying death as far as it goes.

[Rinkhals: Spitting African Cobra.]

poem by Gert Strydom
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Night-Scented Stock

White, white in the milky night
The moon danced over a tree.
"Wouldn't it be lovely to swim in the lake!"
Someone whispered to me.

"Oh, do-do-do!" cooed someone else,
And clasped her hands to her chin.
"I should so love to see the white bodies--
All the white bodies jump in!"

The big dark house hid secretly
Behind the magnolia and the spreading pear-tree;
But there was a sound of music--music rippled and ran
Like a lady laughing behind her fan,
Laughing and mocking and running away...
"Come into the garden--it's as light as day!"

"I can't dance to that Hungarian stuff,
The rhythm in it is not passionate enough,"
Said somebody. "I absolutely refuse...."
But he took off his socks and his shoes
And round he spun. "It's like Hungarian fruit dishes
Hard and bright--a mechanical blue!"
His white feet flicked in the grass like fishes...
Someone cried: "I want to dance, too!"

But one with a queer Russian ballet head
Curled up on a blue wooden bench instead.
And another, shadowy--shadowy and tall--
Walked in the shadow of the dark house wall,
Someone beside her. It shone in the gloom,
His round grey hat, like a wet mushroom.

"Don't you think perhaps..." piped someone's flute.
"How sweet the flowers smell!" I heard the other say.
Somebody picked a wet, wet pink,
Smelled it and threw it away.
"Is the moon a virgin or is she a harlot?"
Asked somebody. Nobody would tell.
The faces and the hands moved in a pattern
As the music rose and fell,
In a dancing, mysterious, moon-bright pattern
Like flowers nodding under the sea...

The music stopped and there was nothing left of them
But the moon dancing over the tree.

poem by Katherine Mansfield
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Kisses For You...

I once heard these words in a song;
'You must remember this...a kiss is
just a kiss...a sigh is just a sigh, ' etc.

With you...nothing...nothing, could be
further from the truth.

Your kiss, is a ride among the stars,
a shower of moon beams and a
sailboat ride, in the Garden Of Eden.

Kissing you...is an out of body experience,
a transport to paradise and a creation
of ultimate passion and joy.

Kissing, every part of who you are, is
truly a banquet of love.

Let me feast of your love and of your lips,
for I am in love with you. Let me always
kiss your mouth...eyes...all of you.

Let us ride the feathers of angels, through
starlit nights-holding...kissing, for now...
and evermore.

Your kiss...touch...embrace, has captured
my heart...my very soul.

I send you this kiss...for the lips
I can not do without.

*Kiss*............*Kiss*
*Kiss *..........Kiss*
*Kiss*......Kiss*
*Kiss*.. .*Kiss*
*Kiss*.*Kiss*
*Kiss*......*Kiss*
*Kiss*........*Kiss*
*Kiss*............*Kiss*
*Kiss*...............*Kiss*

.........* Kiss*
.........*Kiss*
.........*Kiss*
.. .......*Kiss*
.........*Kiss*
.........*Kis s*
.........*Kiss*
.........*Kiss*
..... ....*Kiss*
.........*Kiss*

...........* Kiss*
.....*Kiss*....*Kiss*
..*Kiss*....... .*Kiss*
..*Kiss*........*Kiss*
.....*Kiss*
..........*Kiss*
.*Kiss*.......*Kiss*
.K iss*.......*Kiss*
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..... .....*Kiss

...........*Kiss*
.....*Kiss *....*Kiss*
..*Kiss*........*Kiss*
..*Kiss* ........*Kiss*
.....*Kiss*
...........*Kiss *
.*Kiss*.......*Kiss*
.Kiss*.......*Kiss*
..*Kiss*.....*Kiss*
..........*Kiss

To kiss you...love you...has made my
life worthwhile. Has given meaning, to
each day I live.

A day without your kiss, is as a day
without sunshine. Just the thought
of you, gladdens my heart.

*Kiss*............*Kiss*
*Kiss*. .........Kiss*
*Kiss*......Kiss*
*Kiss*...* Kiss*
*Kiss*.*Kiss*
*Kiss*......*Kiss*
* Kiss*........*Kiss*
*Kiss*............*Kiss**Kiss*...............*Kiss*

.........*Ki ss*
.........*Kiss*
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....... ..*Kiss*
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...........*Ki ss*
.....*Kiss*....*Kiss*
..*Kiss*........* Kiss*
..*Kiss*........*Kiss*
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.*Kiss*.......*Kiss*
.Kis s*.......*Kiss*
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....... ...*Kiss

............*Kiss*
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.........*Kiss*.*Kiss*.......*Kiss*
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..*Kiss*.....*Kiss*
..........*Kiss

ONE LAST KISS, FOR ALL THAT YOU ARE.
FOR ALL THAT YOU DO.

WHY DO I LOVE YOU?
BECAUSE...YOU ARE YOU.

YOU ARE MY WORLD. MY LOVE.

*Kiss*............*Kiss*
*Kiss*.. ........Kiss*
*Kiss*......Kiss*
*Kiss*...*K iss*
*Kiss*.*Kiss*
*Kiss*......*Kiss*
*K iss*........*Kiss*
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*Kiss*...............*Kiss*

.........*Kis s*
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..... ....*Kiss*
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............*Ki ss*
.....*Kiss*....*Kiss*
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...........*Kiss*
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..........*Kiss*
.*Kiss*.......*Kiss*
.Kiss*.......*Kiss*
..*Kiss*.....*Kiss*
...........*Kiss

poem by Joe Fazio
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Banquet Of Love