En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Red Carnations

With big brown eyes
she watches him
where he is sitting
right opposite her
and outside yellow brown
dried out cornfields flash past
as a sign of this winter
and there’s something carefree
in his bright blue eyes.

Next to him on the seat
there are two bushes
of red carnations that she can smell
and she would gladly
received such flowers
from a loved one,
but he’s a stranger
riding along on the train

and she’s thought struck
when he receives a SMS on his cellular phone
and it suddenly feels
as if the whole world folds opens
in front of her
when without words
he hands her the flowers.

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Gathering of the Brown-Eyed

The brown eyes came from Asia, where all mystery is true,
Ere the masters of Soul Secrets dreamed of hazel, grey, and blue;
And the Brown Eyes came to Egypt, which is called the gypsies’ home,
And the Brown Eyes went from Egypt and Jerusalem to Rome.

There was strife amongst the Brown Eyes for the false things and the true;
There was war amongst the Brown Eyes for the old gods and the new;
But the old gods live for ever, and their goddesses are bright
In the temples of Old Passions with the Brown Eyes of the White.

The Brown Eyes east, by Africa, they saw and conquered Spain,
And the Brown Eyes marched as Christians till a Brown Eye met a Dane,
The Dane had Brown-Eyed children who in blue eyes took delight—
And a son of blue-eyed sailors, brown-eyed, reads the stars to-night.

Oh, Knowledge from Old Deserts, where the great stars rocked the world!
Oh, courage from grim seaboards, where the Viking ships were hurled!
The clear skin of the Norseman, and the desert strength and sight,
The power to fathom mankind, and the glorious gift to write!

We can look in souls of women, aye! and let them know we do;
We can fix the false eyes earthward; we can meet and match the true;
We can startle Voice from Silence, and from Darkness flash the Light—
And the eyes to fathom Asia are the Brown Eyes of the White.

There’s a legend in the nations that all Brown Eyes once were true,
But were taught in love and warfare by the sinful shades of blue;
There’s a story amongst sinners that all Brown Eyes once were kind,
Till the Steel-Blue struck the Red-Fire in a hatred that was blind.

But the Brown Eyes are the saddest at the death of Love and Truth.
And the Brown Eyes are the grandest and the dreamiest of Youth.
They have risen in rebellion unto leadership sublime—
And the grey-eyed queens of women loved, and love them for all time!

Brown Eyes never married Brown Eyes but unhappiness held sway,
For the real mates of the Brown Eyes have for ever been the grey.
But though Brown Eyes quarrel hotly, though their very souls be wrenched,
Never Blue-Eye wronged a Brown-Eye but the Brown-Eye was avenged!

Through the breadth of wide Australia, waiting desert-like and vast,
We have sent our Brown-Eyed children, who are multiplying fast.
Patriots, picture-writers, sages, fill the Brown-Eyed rolls to-night—
’Tis the gathering from all ages of the Brown-Eyed of the White.

poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Seasons

I

As if summer will never end
irises are everywhere in the garden
with opening flower after flower
in light yellow, deep purple and rust-brown.

The bright hot sun hangs day after day
in a cobalt blue sky and even carnations, geraniums
and flame lilies are showing their beauty,
are still holding onto summer.

Doves are still cooing in the oak tree,
their are finches and sparrows cavorting up and down
and it’s as if nature is thwarting autumn
while dew is still shining on the leaves in the mornings

until later the sky becomes dull blue
while the sun is getting much more faint.

II

Slowly the leaves are falling
descending in different colours,
in one’s and two’s and later in a bigger number
tree-trunks become dark brown, red and some pallid

until every tree but for those that are evergreen stand skeleton,
the birds that remain sit next to each other shivering,
wishing for the winter to past
having difficulty to find seeds and other food

and the cold winter wind blows through everything,
filling the air with whirling dust clouds
with stripped branches flinging up and down
and everywhere leaves and branches lie in a jumble

until the wind dies down and the morning fog hangs like vapour,
at times only at noon is dispersed by the sun.

III

Days are cold and grey while the sun hides,
with a owl hunting during the day
searching for hungry mice sneaking around in the yellow grass
and all other signs of animal life is missing

but for doves sitting here and there
on telephone wires,
in disconsolation staring into the distance
and early mornings the grass is covered with white ripe

and it is as if every flower succumbs,
is shrinking crumpled and are folding close
until the first spring rain comes suddenly,
with sprouts and buds appearing and new flowers folding open

when fruit trees are covered with white, pink and yellow blossoms
and the sudden beauty takes your breath away.

poem by Gert Strydom
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Damn Dark Brown Eyes

Let me start with one corner
The other corner is wide
In between there’s whole world
The truth, the lies and the skies

The mountains high and blue sky
I can see it all through the reflection of light
The beauties of it describes
What’s the world with a smile that’s so bright

Oh! Your damn dark brown eyes
Tells the story of your innocence with no surprise
The whole world is beautiful if I look through those eyes
You have lovely damn dark brown eyes

The darkest small round thing in between your eyes
Rotates around as you don’t keep watching tight
Then those dark brown things which covers your eyes
Feels like a ocean with a deep divine

Whenever I stare at your damn dark brown eyes
I feel to get more and more inside
The ocean looks so deep and waves so strong
And all those pixels describes that you have something inside

Oh! Your damn dark brown eyes
Makes me feel to swim inside
Yes, I am floating in my imagination
How would be the ocean inside your eyes

When you smile, I can feel it from your eyes
It tells everything that I desire to find
It makes you lovely as lovely as you are always with a smile
Cause you’ve got that damn dark brown eyes.

poem by Rajib Paudyal
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Everything is going to be wet

Every day rain falls down
from the overcast grey sky
and lightning bolts
flash blue white
like the fingers
of the gods
caressing the earth
while the leaves of autumn
cover every tree
in auburn, yellow and brown.

Green leaves on the stems
of big pink hollyhocks
here and there
dip up and down
when hit by drops of rain
as if suddenly coming alive

and it’s going to be
a wet winter
and probably
not all that chilly
with rain falling
out of season.

The grass is green
and everything but trees
are growing
as if it’s still spring.

and flowers bloom
on geraniums, roses, hollyhocks,
lilies, irises and petunias
in colours ranging
from white, orange, yellow,
violet to red and blue
and without covering
everything is going
to be wet.

poem by Gert Strydom
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Capeweed

Originally from South Africa and quite pretty indeed
Those flowers in Spring that cover the paddocks they are known as capeweed
With bright yellow petals and a dark brown heart
From all others quite easy to tell them apart.

Unwanted in Australia or 'twould seem that way
About them the farmers have no kinds words to say
But like thistles they survive deadly toxic spray
Though quite pretty to look at on a bright Spring day.

No strangers to the paddocks they are quite well known
And they have a beauty that is of their own
In late Winter and Spring in abundance to be seen
Their bright yellow flowers dapple Nature's own green.

The farmers cannot kill them off though hard they do try
And with each passing year they seem to multiply
In the paddocks they seem to dance in the breezes of Spring
When the weather is warming and the nesting birds sing.

poem by Francis Duggan
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A Duet

'FLOWERS nodding gaily, scent in air,
Flowers posied, flowers for the hair,
Sleepy flowers, flowers bold to stare----'
'O pick me some!'

'Shells with lip, or tooth, or bleeding gum,
Tell-tale shells, and shells that whisper Come,
Shells that stammer, blush, and yet are dumb----'
'O let me hear.'

'Eyes so black they draw one trembling near,
Brown eyes, caverns flooded with a tear,
Cloudless eyes, blue eyes so windy clear----'
'O look at me!'

'Kisses sadly blown across the sea,
Darkling kisses, kisses fair and free,
Bob-a-cherry kisses 'neath a tree----'
'O give me one!'

Thus sand a king and queen in Babylon.

poem by Thomas Sturge Moore
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Oh! Lisa With These Lovely Eyes

Lisa with the dark brown eyes
So please tell my soul to sympathize,
We shall cry forever in overcast skies
Lisa with the dark brown eyes,

Lisa with the dark brown eyes
Heartbroken heart spoken, not taken back
To change a mind so is lifes dream
Lisa with the dark brown eyed

Lisa with the dark brown eyes
That blends your butter scotch face insight
Smiles which brings sparkles to my mind
Lisa with the dark brown eyes

Lisa with the dark brown eyes
Many pre thoughts of your strays hypnotize
French, African, English culture dies
Lisa with the dark brown eyes

Lisa with the dark brown eyes
She dabbles her life in fiction trash
her soul with curious follies
Lisa with the dark brown eyes

Lisa with the dark brown eyes
Loneliness, has come far a sad. sad day
Emptiness in your mind and heart pay
Lisa with the dark brown eyes

Lisa with the dark, dark, brown eyes
You walk the world in beauty forgotten
They speak about you something forbidden
Lisa with the dark, dark, brown eyes

Lisa with the dark, dark, brown eyes
Your body your mind so whole same so
Your gave birth and I wish I could understand, understand
Lisa with the dark dark raven eyes

Lisa with the dark dark brown eyes
Curiosity is so special time flies, my sighs
Persuaded a fool to be wise, so wise how wise
Lisa with the dark dark brown eyes.

poem by Klayne Mario Burton
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Love In The Sunlight

we lie on the grass
in the late afternoon sunlight
the breeze rustles the leaves
of a scorched palm tree
hair sprawl on the grass
brown eyes look into blue eyes
blue eyes look into brown eyes
her fingers run though my hair
I close my eyes
I feel the warmth of the sun
I feel the sweetness of her fingers
running through my hair
it feels good
it feels right
our loves meet

poem by Georgios Andritsos
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Forget The Flowers

You're tryin' my patience, try pink carnations, red roses and yellow
daffodils
Don't forget the flowers Sunday, I know you will
Displayers of affection and all good intentions, why don't you just send
me the bill
Don't forget the flowers someday, I know you will
Whether you've been takin' me way too seriously, ewwwewwhoo
I can't ever explain why I don't feel the pain, ewwewwhoo
I left you behind I know its been along time, but I'm not over you
Don't forget the flowers someday, I hope I do
You're tryin' my patience, try pink carnations, red roses and yellow
daffodils
Don't forget the flowers someday
I know I will
Don't forget the flowers someday, I know I will

song performed by by Wilco
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Got You

You're tryin' my patience, try pink carnations, red roses and yellow
daffodils
Don't forget the flowers Sunday, I know you will
Displayers of affection and all good intentions, why don't you just send
me the bill
Don't forget the flowers someday, I know you will
Whether you've been takin' me way too seriously, ewwwewwhoo
I can't ever explain why I don't feel the pain, ewwewwhoo
I left you behind I know its been along time, but I'm not over you
Don't forget the flowers someday, I hope I do
You're tryin' my patience, try pink carnations, red roses and yellow
daffodils
Don't forget the flowers someday
I know I will
Don't forget the flowers someday, I know I will

song performed by by Wilco
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The joy of the road

It’s a big joy
to take the road
and drive past cornfields
and to get the sweet sour smell
that water leaves there
for the first time
in your nose.

It’s a big joy
to drive on a road
that allures black in front of you
and goes up and down through the landscape.

There’s something indescribable
if you become part
of the sun and the wind
and with a motorbike
to find your place
in the world around you.

There’s something magical
to hear the insects
in the bushes
outside of Pieter Maritzburg
and to smell the summer sun
on the plantation trees.

Still greater is
to catch the smell of the see
on the wind
to see the blue waters
lying in the distance,
while free like a bird
you drive nearer to it.

poem by Gert Strydom
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Your Beautiful Brown Eyes

I'm looking at the sky, so peaceful, so sublime,
This peace invading my being when,
Are shinning serene to my heart,
Your beautiful brown eyes.

The way you hold me in your arms,
The way the stars are shinning,
I'm feeling the mystery of life,
Through your beautiful brown eyes.

When you say that you love me,
Being there, showing you care,
Nothing in this world doesn't matter,
Only your beautiful brown eyes.

Even the day is coming with sun shinning bright on sky,
Even night is falling with a glowing moonlight,
My sun, my moon will always be,
Your beautiful brown eyes.

Essence of life, magic of moment,
Make me feel so alive,
Amazing how much happiness shines,
In your beautiful brown eyes.

poem by Cristina Teodor
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It Is Such A Beautiful Evening

Than Spring it is far more like Summer a summery warmth in the breeze
And sunshine on the old Town and Parkland and sunshine on the bushes and trees
The greeness of Spring all around me such beauty that cannot fail to please
The weather quite warm for September well over the twenty degrees.

Though early Spring few birds are singing in the warm sun of the day
They sing in the cool of the morning or in the twilight's fading gray
The Winter is finally over though Winter weather was far from severe
We may be due for an el nino a warm Spring is looming this year.

The heaths and prickly bushes are covered in their blue, pink and bright yellow flowers
They came to bloom in the late Winter in the cool and invigorating showers
The pardalotes by their nest entrance in a tiny hole in the ground
Wee wren sized birds spotted and pretty where they live small insects abound.

It is such a beautiful evening the swallows they chirp as they fly
And the sun with the warmth of Summer is glowing brightly in the blue sky
And the first brown butterflies of September are flitting in the balmy air
Alone and contented with Nature such moments are precious and rare.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Carnations (Balassi Stanza)

Carnations grow lovely,
perfect beauty I see
in vivid colours of white
red, pink, some are yellow
with loveliness they glow,
are usually quite bright,
they smell somewhat like cloves,
have purity of doves,
they are flowers drawing sight.

poem by Gert Strydom
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Frozen With Flowers (Revision)

Sitting among flowers burning with joy
of life - even the small purple ones have
yellow hearts, orange flowers seem warm

Yet it feels as if they are frozen as I sit in
the cold, then the dream - an Ice Princess
sitting atop a glass mountain

They're her only reminders of the real world,
a heroine and a prince will not come, for
all eternity the Princess sits among frozen

Beauty of long ago with ice-covered flowers
from when she still believed an inner world
of love could be realised by wishing for it

They are frozen tokens to keep her company,
she is happy, the ardent longing to find ideals
and fight for them have also been

Frozen with flowers...

poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Flowers

(orbison/dees)
When I was a boy I ran among the flowers
Looking left and right at the bright array
I played through the spring, whiled away the hours
Lingered with the flowers every day
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, lifes bouquet
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, along the way
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, lifes bouquet
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, along the way
When the summer ends and the storms of life are over
When the winter comes and the petals fall away
They may write it on my stone, he was just a roller
But he stopped to pick some flowers along the way
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, lifes bouquet
Flowers, picked some flowers, along the way

song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Favorite Colors

Blue is my favorite color drawn from the seas and skies.
It beautifies my mother’s and two of my daughter’s eyes.
It also imbues the flag of my country where freedom is dear.
That’s why when I feel blue, I know happiness must be near.

Red is a close second and I’ll always remember why.
As a child I loved fire engines and the Monarch butterfly.
For me the lovely, regal rose created this exquisite color.
Many shades exist, but it’s hard to focus on any other.

Yellow is another color that has always caught my eye.
It explodes from the morning sun; then paints the sunset sky.
I wonder if, in fact, my favorite color might be yellow.
It reminds me of all that is good, positive and mellow.

Green, the color of life, emboldens the countryside.
Eyes of another daughter sparkle this color far and wide.
Though the color of money, it’s more important for me
That it signifies “proceed” toward opportunity.

Brown graces the eyes of my son and wonderful wife.
Before I met my partner, brown didn’t mean much in my life.
Because of her, this color is the most radiant of all.
Her big brown eyes and gentle sighs are why love came to call.

poem by Gregory Huyette
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My Art My Love

i do not have flowers in my hands
and so my hands
have become flowers

all because i love you

i do not have sweet lips
but my mouth shall be as beautiful as a pond
with goldfish teeming

all because i really love you

i do not carry the world
but myself shall become one world for us

just because i have loved you

forgive my shortcomings
forgive my unannounced departure

i am a boat leaving the port
i am a train leaving the station

i promised myself nothing will change even
without you

the roof shall not leak
the floors shall not fall

because i have loved you more than anyone else

i shall be as normal as the rest
nothing idiosyncratic

because i love you and i cannot love you

you are my secret art &
i shall not sign my name on you.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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When Winter Suddenly Comes

When winter suddenly comes
year upon year I am caught by it,
when there is an end to growth,

when sudden change in age
strip branches, let's them hang lonely,
when winter suddenly comes

and it seems as if all of nature is dying,
when you long back to summer,
when there is an end to growth,

when with the ripe every spring flower wilts
and that an end is coming scares you,
when winter suddenly comes

you are astonished by the yellow-brown creeping death,
when even the bright bird songs wither,
when there is an end to growth,

and subtle even death claims its own property,
after years of decline of a life,
when winter suddenly comes,
when there is an end to growth.

poem by Gert Strydom
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