When the sun languished slowly in the late afternoon
When the sun languished slowly in the late afternoon
I held you in an embrace,
while the moon did cling bright white to the heaven,
winking stars appeared in the night
and sweet we were blissful together
when you trusted me, with your body, spirit and soul.
When the sun languished slowly in the late afternoon
I held you in an embrace,
suddenly the evening star did disappear
while I held your hand in mine,
saw the glance in the depths of your eyes
and all the misunderstandings and pain were gone,
when the sun languished slowly in the late afternoon.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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{painted Pink Sky}
My eyes set their gaze across the horizon
The sun is setting in late fall afternoon
Cold snap in the air as the leaves swirl about
A welcoming view is the painted pink sky
Streaks of pale blue dotted with white
Have been suddenly brushed with a soft pastel
The beauty is breathtaking, such natural artistry
I am in awe of the painted pink sky
I think of you now, how magnificent it would be
To find ultimate and much needed serenity
Wrapped up in your strong arms in loves sweet embrace
To be held by you under the painted pink sky
poem by Lillian Jamison
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Late Night Mom
Late night mom
You know what to do
Doesn’t matter now
The monsters won’t say boo
You’re up so late
The moon’s asleep too
Late night mom
The kids worry
All night long
They wake up
And you’re passed out on the lawn
Late night mom
Knows just what to do
Your kid’s staying up late
To see what you’ll do
Thinking to herself
Why isn’t mommy in bed?
Late night mom is
Sleeping with the meds
Too close for comfort
A fire by the house
Smoking your cigarette
Thinking without a doubt
Late night mom
Is chilling in the house
Late night mom
Sleeping on the couch
Instead of in her bed
A cushion instead
Of a warm husband’s embrace
Late night mom
Passed out on the floor
Don’t wake the kids
You’re just asking for more
Around two or four
Dad will come out
And pick you up
While you pout
He’ll carry you over
To the room overhead
And help you climb
Slowly to bed
poem by Scarred Unknown
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Late In The Afternoon
LATE IN THE AFTERNOON
Late in the afternoon
Late in life
Lyric poetry is still possible.
It is quieter of course
And calmer of course
And its passion is subdued of course
But it is still possible.
Love does not die in old age
It simply sings softer.
Even now towards the end of this happy day
The light has its own sad song.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Late- Afternoon Sadness
LATE- AFTERNOON SADNESS
Late- afternoon sadness
Has a feeling all its own.
Life is all the things one has failed to do
It is all the disappointments brought us
By loved ones.
It is the sense that nothing good will happen again
Late- afternoon sadness
Is a world of its own,
And within it one sinks and sinks and sinks
Until one does not know
If the ground ever existed.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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A Song Of Spring
The Spring comes slowly up this way,
Slowly, slowly,
Under a snood of hodden grey.
The black and white for her array,
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.
Where is her green that was so gay?
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.
Unto a world too sick for May,
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.
Where are the lads that used to play?
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.
She has no heart for holiday,
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.
The trees are out in Heaven they say.
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up our way.
poem by Katharine Tynan
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Afternoon Tea
Tea time wont be the same without my donna
At night I lie awake and dream of donna
I think about that small cafe
Thats where we used to meet each day
And then we used to sit a while
And drink our afternoon tea
Ill take afternoon tea (afternoon tea)
If you take it with me (afternoon tea)
You take as long as you like
cause I like you, girl
I take sugar with tea (afternoon tea)
You take milk if you please (afternoon tea)
Like you talking to me
Because you ease my mind
Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba (afternoon tea)
Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba (afternoon tea)
Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba (afternoon tea)
Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba (afternoon tea)
Tea time still aint the same without my donna
At night I lie awake and dream of donna
I went to our cafe one day
They said that donna walked away
Youd think at least she might have stayed
To drink her afternoon tea
Ill take afternoon tea (afternoon tea)
If you take it with me (afternoon tea)
You take as long as you like
cause I like you, girl
I take afternoon tea (afternoon tea)
Every day of the week (afternoon tea)
Please come along if you like
Because I like you, girl
Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba (afternoon tea)
Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba (afternoon tea)
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In fifth Avenue
In the mornings I see Jane passing
and how she walks away,
in the street
and gets smaller and smaller in the distance
The lingering afternoon hours
slowly past
and the postman
draws the barking dogs,
before he rides leisurely
away with his bicycle.
When the sun gets low in the late afternoon
and I park behind the house,
I hear a gate opening
and she greets while she walks by.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Late Afternoon Is Heat
THE LATE AFTERNOON IS HEAT
The late afternoon is heat
The poem is far away
The day has yet to begin
I am old
Time mocks me with another small smile at its passing.
I do not know where I am going
And what I will be
And how I will die.
But I will die
And in much less time
Than I have already lived.
Late afternoon
The heat
My tiredness
The silence
This poem
Tonight will be Shabbat
Another day will begin
Time mocks me with its passing
And blesses me with each moment I still live.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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An Afternoon Poem Is Rare
AN AFTERNOON POEM IS RARE
An Afternoon Poem is rare-
Afternoon is long after the first light-
Afternoon is a time of heaviness and quiet
A time of rest-
Afternoon is after the morning work has been done-
Afternoon is the weight of the day-
Afternoon is the time after the day has lost its freshness-
Still there must be afternoon poems-
There must be a beauty that emerges
In its own way,
Perhaps from where lovers meet
Perhaps from ‘ripeness is all’
Perhaps from the anticipation of evening
Perhaps from winter where it is the warmest time of day.
There must be afternoon poems-
Poems that celebrate all that warmth can bring-
Poems of rest poems of sleep-
Poems of waiting to believe
That in the evening
A new day and a new world
Will make life easier again.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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A Life's Story
THE morning broke in a pearly haze,
Then the east grew duskly red:
'Oh, my only day, oh, my day of days,
To-day he will come,' I said.
As the sun climbed up in the clearer sky,
The mists fell down at his feet;
'There is sunshine too in my heart,' said I,
'For to-day is the day we meet;
Perhaps even now he is journeying fast--
Perhaps he is almost here.'
And my heart leaped up at each foot that passed,
With the thought that he might be near.
In my garden the fairest flowers that grew
I plucked for him, sweet, dew-wet,
And held them ready, the whole day through,
To gladden him when we met.
The sun shone warm on the longing earth,
That thrilled to his fervent kiss;
But what to me was the sun's smile worth,
When I longed for that smile of his?
The hours in their flight seemed strangely slow
For the sake of the hour to be;
'Go swiftly now--and more slowly go
When he shall be here with me.'
But the level light of late afternoon
Fell cold on me, still alone;
My flowers were dying, gathered too soon,
And my whole day's work undone.
With empty heart and unsatisfied
I turned from the red sunset:
'Short time for his coming is left,' I cried,
'It shall not be evening yet.'
But the sky grows pale, and a weak wind wakes,
And long flights of birds go home,
And slowly and surely the day's spell breaks,
And I know that he will not come.
Perhaps he has never turned my way,
Nor known how my heart would wait;
Perhaps he has sought me the whole long day,
And has failed at my very gate;
Perhaps all these hours of increasing pain
Have been only a dream of a day,
And after the night I shall wake again,
And 'To-day he comes,' I shall say.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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June Afternoon
Didnt I tell you everything is possible in this dj vu?
Try the river boat, the carousel, feed the pigeons, bar-b-q.
Look at all the people, happy faces all around.
Smiling, throwing kisses, busy making lazy sounds
Its a bright june afternoon, it never gets dark.
Wah-wah! here comes the sun.
Get your green, green tambourine, lets play in the park.
Wah-wah! here comes the sun
Some folks are on blankets, slowly daydreaming
And reaching for their food.
Lets go buy an ice-cream and a magazine with an attitude
And put on a cassette, we can pretend that youre a star
Cos lifes so very simple just like la-la-la
Its a bright june afternoon...
Theres a painter painting his masterpiece.
There are some squirrels jumping in the trees,
Theres a wide-eyed boy with a red balloon.
All my life Ive longed for this afternoon.
song performed by by Roxette
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poem Of The Afternoon
Poem of the afternoon
What do you have to say for yourself?
You are tired and you want a nap
But it’s too late for a nap
We must be going-
Poem of the afternoon
Say something different
Say life is wonderful
On a warm day after many cold ones
Say life is wonderful
When you can still walk and talk and move about
Though you are older than you ever thought you’d be-
Poem of the afternoon
Cloudy and a bit sunny
Say the night is still a certain way off
And the day the long day is still happily with us.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Those Tears Are Mine
You held my hand
Beneath a summer streetlight
An hour or two
Before the dawn.
We walked all night,
We talked all night
About the things
That make us cry.
And I have seen
You cry
Too many times.
I swear,
Those tears are mine
Because I brought them
To your eyes.
I never wanted
Anything more
Than to kiss you
While watching the poetry
Of a sunrise,
Or to see
An afternoon breeze
Lovingly tousle your hair.
But a lover
Can grow insensitive
And take love for granted,
Not listen carefully.
You tried to tell me
Every time you were hurting
How to change my ways,
How to make you smile.
I did not pay attention
To little but important needs
Until you were convinced
That you were not
Important to me.
I know it is too late
For you to forgive me,
But I hope you try.
poem by Uriah Hamilton
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Hole In The Road
They're digging a hole in our road, yet again,
And I really must say that it's becoming a pain.
The drone of their drill is driving me totally mad;
I have got the worst headache that I've ever had.
The electricity has now been cut off for hours;
I can't cook a meal, or take a nice, hot shower.
Electricity is something which we all rely on;
We don't realise how much, until it has gone.
I can't surf the net, or snuggle up in front of the TV;
And I can't even listen to my favourite band on CD.
Packed full of food, I daren't open the freezer door,
As, if I do, all of my frozen food will thaw, for sure.
I can't boil the kettle, and enjoy a nice mug of tea;
I can't listen to the classical music on Radio Three.
Oh, how I wish, the sound of drilling would end;
The noise is driving me slowly round the bend.
Come late afternoon, when the day isn't as bright,
My hand instinctively reaches to switch on the light;
But, my mind, very suddenly, realises that, of course,
At the present time, we don't have that power source.
When the power was restored yesterday, it was late;
This endless disruption is something I really do hate.
Workmen were here yesterday, and the day before;
I wish they'd finish the job: I can't take much more!
poem by Angela Wybrow
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How did it get so late so soon? Its night before its afternoon. December is here before its June. My goodness how the time has flewn. How did it get so late so soon?
Speak to me Gently
Speak to me gently
words as soft as a sea breeze
Touch me with your hands
as well as your heart
Let us swim in the ocean
and feel its passion
Let me smile
to put your mind at ease
Hand in hand we dance
slowly together
Virtually motionless
suspended in time
Drifting slowly
Held firmly together
A tender embrace
Sustained everlasting
Look at me closely
Feel my deepest thoughts
Let your heart beat with mine
Speak to me gently
And my heart will listen
Touched by sincerity
Nurtured with love
Joined together
Hand in hand
And heart to heart
We live, we breathe
Within each other
poem by William Lindenmuth
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Its Not Too Late
Gently rolling father time
Is calling to him now,
And though he hears him
He looks out to sea.
Somewhere out there lie his dreams
A story with no ending
And till he finds his answers
He wont be going nowhere
For him, its not too late
Its not too late
For some its never too late
Quietly knocking on her door.
He patiently stands waiting,
And though she hears him
She sits steadfast in her chair.
Somewhere out there never seen
Her hopes and dreams lie waiting,
And till she finds an answer
She wont be going nowhere
For her, its not too late
Its not too late
For some its never too late
For everything we know thats certain
There is much we cannot see,
So we choose to close the curtain,
Never knowing what could have been
Its not too late, its not too late, never too late
Slowly rocking the babys bed
He strokes its head and whispers
And though it hears him,
It keeps smiling and kicks its feet
Somewhere out there is a life,
A lifetime made for living
So it holds on fast, it aint going nowhere
For some its not too late,
Its not too late
For some its never too late
For some its not too late
Its not too late
For some its never too late
song performed by by Phil Collins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Early Summer
The year is full of the hot blue sky,
every spring flower has become fruit,
when the maturity of the summer appears
and gone is all the strife and pain.
There are joyful birds wherever I go,
giant oaks are decked in leaves in the lane
while the sun shines bright until the late afternoon
and gone is all the strife and pain.
When summer rain comes down fruitful,
days become illustrious,
while love shines on your face
and gone is all the strife and pain;
when God keeps my country in his palm,
when a time of neighbourly love unfolds,
when every thing that brings discord slowly disappears
and gone is all the strife and pain.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Hold On
I was doomed riding on top a black horse.
Whatever prize there was I could only observe where the troubles starts.
Where does it end?
I cannot be cured...mmm...but if...
I know life would be different if I held on, held on.
I know I could be something if I held on.
Gave her life away. Put it in my pocket when it should've been framed.
Oh lost it's shine. Gotta' get this out of my head, out of my head.
How could it end...end like this?
I could've been...
I know life would be different had I held on, held on.
I know I could've been something had I held on, held on.
I know I could be something if I held on, held on.
I know life would be different if I held on, held on.
Held on, held on, if I held on, held on, if I held on, held on, if I held on.
song performed by by Pearl Jam
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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IN THE MORNIN BABE...by talile ali
IN THE MORNIN BABE
WHEN I'M NEXT TO YOU
ALL I WANNA DO IS
HOLD YOU CLOSE AND SCREW
IN THE MORNING BABE
IT SUCH A SURPRISE
WHEN I LOOK INTO YOUR EYES
SO FINE I REALIZE
THERES NOT MUCH THAT A MAN CAN SAY
WHEN A WOMAN CAN MAKE HIM FEEL THAT WAY
BY JUST BEING ALIVE AND MOVING EVERY DAY
THERES NOT MUCH A MAN REALLY NEEDS TO SAY
IN THE AFTERNOON BABE
SIPPIN TEA WITH CAKES
YOUR LOVIN ME SO WELL
WE SCREW UNTIL IT'S LATE
IN THE AFTERNOON, BABE
AS YOU TAKE ME BY THE HAND
IM ONE STEP AHEAD OF YOU
WE DO IT AGAIN AND AGAIN
IN THE EVENING BABE
AFTER DINNER IS THRU
AS I SIT NEXT TO YOU AND CRY
BECAUSE I'M SO IN LOVE WITH YOU
IN THE EVENING BABE
AS YOU DRIFT INTO A DREAM
HOW BEATIFUL YOU LOOK
BAPTISED INSIDE A MOONBEAM
WHEN I'M DREAMIN BABE
I'M DREAMIN ALL ABOUT YOU
AND ALL THE THING WE CAN BE
BEING TOGETHER AND TRUE
WHILE I'M DREAMIN BABE
I AM OFTEN CAUGHT SURPRISED
AT THE SPARKLE IN YOUR CHEEKS
AND LAUGHTER IN YOUR EYE'S
I WANT YOU BABE
poem by Talile Ali
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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