When The İrises Bloomed At The End Of Summer
When the irises bloomed at the end of summer,
in radiant bright colours
and the evening star was out early
with the blue in the sky wavering
I was mourning the day I lost you
in a similar setting,
but then it was early spring
with all the blooming flowers inviting
me to look at them,
to smell their fresh aromas
and you were lost to me
as if somebody had picked you.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Sky Blue (from, Lead Sheets in July 2008)
Sky blue is so much you
Every day inside of love to guide
Sky blue summer‘s dream
So much is true in every river stream
Love is you to the day and evening
Coming through to sing
So tenderly always fresh and new
To bring moments splendidly
Inside always too
I love a morning coming
And the wild grows with its leaves
The freshest blooming in early dawn arose
Every dream laden from gone frost
Through the dreams now found
When darkish glistens are lost
In the earth around
Sky blue is so much you
Every day inside love to abide
Sky blue summer’s dream
So much is new in every glowing beam
poem by Peter S. Quinn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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One Bright Star
One bright star in the vast unknown
A blazing ember in the night sky shone
Reminding me that I'm not alone...............
One bright star;
One bright star in the evening sky
Holds its own where the angels fly
Anchors the bond between you and I............
One bright star;
One bright star that I wish upon
The first to rise when the sun is gone
Lights my way 'til the early dawn.............
One bright star;
One bright star In the midnight blue
Holds the dreams that I dream of you
Take my hand and I'll lead you to
One bright star.
10/18/2009
Blooming
Spring already
Flowers blooming
Birds humming
Sing their sweet
Sweet song
The air
Full of blossoms
Blooming flowers..
Blooming plants…
Blooming love
Spring is clean..
Spring is fresh…
Spring is that new beginning
We pray for in the end
poem by Alexsis Daniels
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A Making Of Love
It was in the early morning of need...
Where seduction came face to face...
Left behind in the early evening of first desire-
Upon the wings of sweet love... it raced;
No minutes were lost in awkward foreplay...
Only lust and its most trusty friend-
A teacher in the art of Tantric Love Making...
With patience and a love story- thus penned;
Tenderness and kindness were all needed...
Crossing the barriers of sky...
As two trees blown into one another...
As if Heaven had descended the sky;
The wind knew of this climax...
As the mountains flashed a knowing smile-
The flowers bloomed full for the occasion...
Bedded deeply-a love to last for a while;
And with the setting of the sun...
Perhaps a twilight or dusky retrieve...
Where sweat is as foreign as gooseflesh...
Where relief comes with Summertimes Eve;
Dedicated to Lovers Everywhere
September 2,2010
poem by Theodora Onken
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The Speedwell (Novelinee)
In small bushes brilliant blue wild it grows
and if picked the tiny flowers fall,
in spring it is among the hedgerows
with eyes constantly watching it is small
and in the early red morning new born,
something living tranquil and really free
like a inviting berry on the thorn
it has a kind of serene beauty
is very fragile and somewhat lovely.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Smell of Purple is in the Air
Late Spring, Early Summer
Breeze Blowing Along with the light Misty Rain
Ah.....How wonderful the smell
So Fresh, So Crisp
Reminding Me of Grandma's Homemade Pie
Ah.....That Breeze Blows letting the Smell glisten through the Air
Right into My Window, Soft as a Rabbit's Fur
The Smell of Purple is in the Air
I just lie back on the bed and relax
That smell brings a Calm Peaceful feeling over me
Peace...
Ah....How great that feels...
Wonderful
The Smell of Purple is in the Air
Field of fresh Blueberries...Bushes Full
Sweet, Soft, Spring, Summer
Breeze Blowing, The Mist of Rain
Ah....Bring on the peace...The Wonderful Feeling
Beautiful..... Is that ' The Smell of Purple is in the Air '
poem by Lorene Erwin
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Between The Covers
I have plucked
Every primrose and daisy
Sprouting in myriad colours
On every wild vegetation,
Grown around my neighbour’s fence.
I have also plucked
All the flowers on my path
In their youthful fragrance,
Of spilled out pollen,
And in their sealed-dreams,
Clinging intimately to the
Tender stems of unknown creepers.
I don’t know
For whom they bloomed,
For the hot Sun?
For the cool Moon?
Or for the soothing South Wind?
Just see!
The flowers have never complained,
Either loud or in whispers,
Or perhaps
I have not cared to heed
Their effeminate indignation
Against my reckless passion,
Believe me.
I have also not spared
All the early flowers
Of Spring and Summer
Grown in the distant meadows
Only to press them for you
Between the covers.
Early this morning
Early this morning
when you waked me up
I experienced your tender smell
like a garden of fresh flowers blooming
and your hot soft body were clinging to mine
and your breath was fresh like apples
in a orchard
but your eyes my love, flamed
as if being on fire
and something indescribable were
between the two of us
and some people call it love
but I know
that it was much more.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Something About The Girl Called Spring (Sonnet Corona)
I
Just after winter you are back enchanting
with unfolding blossoms on hot sunny days
playing your roles in all your beautiful ways
as if every day is a grand setting
with colours and smells alluring, inviting
man, animals and insects to stray
in orchards, gardens and in the veldt to play
wherever you may be wandering
while insects and birds sing sweet melodies,
even the breeze is charming
in the season that you bequeath
that becomes a time of sweet memories
while everywhere life is swarming;
flowers are as fragrant as your breath.
II
Flowers are as fragrant as your breath
and outside the sun does shine
where flowers and insects ephemeral awaits death
living just as small specs of the will divine.
There are tales about flowers and butterflies that you tell,
about all the minute things, before the first shadows fall
but you have to mention the Creator as well
who fathered everything, created all.
His gardens fill the earth in sheer exuberance
while in summer and spring, in daylight hours
bees, butterflies and birds dance
around the fragrant flowers
in their winged flight,
from early twilight.
III
From early twilight
you are everywhere sent
until the dark night
for the whole world’s enjoyment
and flowering fair
you dance along
without a moment to spare
singing a cheerful song
as a seasonal creature being sweet,
dressed very serene
dancing with fairly like feet
as the essence of the productive machine
and nature everywhere tells,
spring is awaking in smells.
IV
Spring is awaking in smells
with birds singing
rising from the valleys and dells,
sounding in joy about the beauty she is bringing
even every bird, deer and bee,
as the blessings have come
as a time of tranquillity to some
until all of nature is happy and free
when love is finally finding its home
and spring is especially dear to me,
in the air above there’s a vibrant hue
as if it’s a living kind of blue
specked with flocks of birds in their flight;
spring is dressed in white.
V
Spring is dressed in white,
dressed for her wedding day,
when she blesses wherever her flowers stray
in celebration in every day and night
while she dances from early morning light
inviting all her guests, the birds and bees to play,
while she lingers everything is gay
in colours jubilant and bright
with butterflies filling the air,
humming yellow and black bees,
even joined by flying birds that in joy sing
roaming among the almond, peach and pear,
flying to and fro from the blue gum trees
in the unfolding of spring.
VI
In the unfolding of spring
it came to my mind
the words, the deeds and every thing,
of the troublesome kind
that man does to his fellow human beings
as if he is inclined
to act only to his own interest without any feelings,
as if so designed
but around me the new awakenings
are totally unrestrained
in days and evenings
with beauty that is gained
while everywhere flowers are rising,
I long for an eternal spring’s blessing.
VII
I long for an eternal spring’s blessing
as if the Godly plan
in a place where everything is living,
is still in effect for man,
where the songs of birds through the hubbub ring
as if the singing birds are right here
bringing pleasure to everything
making existing so sweet and sincere,
as if from the very beginning
the Lord God was near,
even before human beings were sinning
when these joyous songs fall on the ear:
.
with all of the love that God is granting,
just after winter you are back enchanting.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Early in the Spring
Early in the spring
Not a leaf has struck the ground
The swallow has yet to sing
And the plowmen are no where to be found
Early in the spring
The forest stands still
And no creature dare come out
Before the sun rises o’er the hill
Early in the spring
The valley holds the morning dew
And its serenity may be captured
By only a certain few
Early in the spring
The trees turn, brown to green
Many changes occur
But few can be seen
Early in the spring
Or in the latter of fall
No matter the change of season
The evergreen stands tall
poem by James Kent
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There Were Late Afternoons As A Child
There were late afternoons when as a child
I would see the tall popular trees
making the pale blue sky seem much higher
where they grew next to the old farm dam
with there branches whispering
in the early night breeze,
with doves and finches calling
from their nests in the shelter of these trees,
when an early moon would appear
and the evening star would suddenly start twinkling
blue-white in its sheer brightness against a darker blue sky,
like a mother goose leading all of the other stars.
There were early evenings when the sun
died with its deep red glow touching
the hillocks that were covered in sugar bushes,
and red flowering aloes,
when the scent of protea flowers was sweet on the air,
when blue changed to darker black,
when darkness came suddenly
and a myriad of stars sparkled all over the sky
while in the distance fires came to life
at the rural mud huts, while jackals
and dogs started to howl at the bright yellow moon,
while I knew that mother would be home soon.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There Were Late Afternoons
There were late afternoons when as a child
I would see the tall popular trees
making the pale blue sky seem much higher
where they grew next to the old farm dam
with there branches whispering
in the early night breeze,
with doves and finches calling
from their nests in the shelter of these trees,
when an early moon would appear
and the evening star would suddenly start twinkling
blue-white in its sheer brightness against a darker blue sky,
like a mother goose leading all of the other stars.
There were early evenings when the sun
died with its deep red glow touching
the hillocks that were covered in sugar bushes,
and red flowering aloes,
when the scent of protea flowers was sweet on the air,
when blue changed to darker black,
when darkness came suddenly
and a myriad of stars sparkled all over the sky
while in the distance fires came to life
at the rural mud huts, while jackals
and dogs started to howl at the bright yellow moon,
while I knew that mother would be home soon.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Sweet Violets
They are coming up in my gardens
Why, just like wild flowers they grow
A delicious early spring splash of color
That’s why I really love them so
They are pale as a spring violet can be
A lavender color they are
Tiny with a fragrance so special
The best early flower by far
They always infuse with my landscape
I love the perfect way that they blend
With other flowers like blue Forget-me-not’s
And when finished tiny seeds they send
I do so enjoy my flowers in spring
I even pick them for a wonderful bouquet
I wish you could visit my gardens as well
I’d serve you sweet tea without any delay!
poem by Marilyn Lott
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Always Suffering
Let's take a walk
Just you and me
And talk of days gone by
Across the fields
Under the trees
Let's speak of you and I
While the whole world
Was wandering
We walked a steady line
When all our friends
Were wavering
We kept on trying
Now we're always suffering
Already lost
Always suffering
Already lost
Remember when
On summer days
I would sing a lovers son
How you would smile
Shower me with praise
And the sun shined on
Now the rain is falling slow
And the nights grow long
And the train
Cries out so hauntingly
She is gone
Now we're always suffering
Already lost
We're always suffering
Already lost
Please take these flowers
Smell the perfume
Let your soul come alive
Let there be hope
Hope in your heart
That our love may revive
For life is but a chance
On a wind swept hill
And the seeds of love
Are swirling above
Let them be still
But we're always suffering
We're already lost
Always suffering
Already lost
song performed by by Rolling Stones from Bridges To Babylon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A view of spring turning into summer (hybridanelle)
From the time that the first sunlight hit me
I was surrounded by heat like a cocoon
and I saw the clear blue sky and felt free
while the early morning breeze
kissed my cheek
with an early morning freeze
and there were clouds escaping from my mouth that I could see
evaporating like steam or gas from a balloon.
From the time that the first sun light hit me
some dust tickling my nose made me sneeze
and glorious bright rays
kissed my cheek,
buds opened on every plant and tree,
ants marched to and fro like in a platoon
and I saw the clear blue sky and felt free
and I was experiencing days
of spring leading into summer
and glorious bright rays
and nature’s decree
summoning new seasons, made me feel like a tycoon
from the time that the first sunlight hit me
and the wind like a drummer
sweeping through sand, leaves and branches whistling its song
of spring leading into summer
and you my love, had to agree
that an awesome summer would be here soon
and I saw the clear blue sky and felt free
as if this freaky wind was blowing me along,
turned part of me into nature and I saw it
sweeping through sand, leaves and branches whistling its song
and even you were in its spell and we
were both smitten with summer and spring that afternoon.
From the time that the first sunlight hit me
and I saw the clear blue sky and felt free
it was like standing on a high summit
while the early morning breeze,
turned part of me into nature and I saw it
with an early morning freeze.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Uvalde
A dark shadow wraps the earth,
springs of tears spring up in the saddened hearts,
never-ending rains of hurt and pain,
the sun fades,
the stars lost their light,
so many questions unanswered,
mourning songs echo the suffering souls,
the silence cries out,
the scream is silent,
parents weep for their children
"refusing to be comforted,
because they are no more",
the angels are sad,
God is crying,
way too early, white roses bloom in heaven,
way, way too early.
poem by Marius Alexandru (May 2022)
Submitted by anonym
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O' Lotus flower in the pond
Are you in a hurry
to see my fiancee's face,
She is very fresh and grace;
O' Lotus flower in the pond,
Why have you bloomed so early
in the very early morning
in a hurry? Hurray!
poem by V.K. Kanniappan
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I like blue
I like blue
and my motorbike is that colour
and some of the clothes that I wear.
If I am happy,
my eyes changes colour from grey
to bright blue.
The lavender bushes in our garden,
are rather blue
than purple to me.
When the sun sets behind the hillock
there’s a wonderful scent in the early evening air,
that comes from the blue bushes.
a Blue sky with a hot sun
can do miracles to me
and I cannot get enough of summer,
but Monday or any other day
must please stay away
from that colour.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Sun and The Moon
As the Sun
Sets on the Sea
With its reddish glow
And orange hues...
The day shades in for me
Awakening the
Night of Darkness
Within me...
And the setting Sun
On the horizon
Beckons me
Nearer to it
As if asking me
To seek shelter
In its radiant warmth
And magnanimous
Splendour...
Yet when I see
The swirling waters
Of the Sea...
With their myriad colours
Reflecting the Setting Sun's
Evening Glory -
I remember that
It is all a mirage
For the very same Sun
Inviting me in with all
Its Grandeur -
Can Scorch me dry
On one of those days
When it is bright and shining
In the clear, blue sky.
So I see it,
Cherish it
From far-away...
I love the sun setting
On the Sea
It is a lovely sight for me
Every day
Yet - I always revert back
To my night of darkness
When the sun sets in
Even if it is lonely and
Shadowy out here...
I still prefer
The coolness of the night
The bright, starry delight
Of the sky and the stars
And in that darkness -
That still, sombre mood
Of being alone, solitary
And so very lonely...
The tears in my eyes
Speak to my Beloved
Sans any words
Nor any letters
Yet feelings galore
Dreams aplenty...
The beautiful Moon
with its subtle grace
Takes the place
Of my messenger of love.
In its blue moonlight
I bask and ask -
Questions aplenty
To my Beloved.
And I wait and I wait
For the answers to come
Drifting by...
Like the soft evening breeze
And the cool night air
Rejuvenating me,
Arousing me
Teasing me
Making love to me...
Revitalising and
Refreshing me -
From lands afar,
Across the miles
Over the seven seas.
Like a clandestine affair
Of the Night
Amidst the stars and the sky
Where I laugh and I cry
With You
In my Fantasies...
Like it happens every night
When the Sun goes down
And ushers in the Night -
And Yes - The Witness
Of this night long
Love affair...
Fantasising without a care -
Remains my messenger of love:
The eternal Moon
With its blue moonlight.
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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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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