Autumnal Fog
The young cloud is on the field;
running along roiling winds;
a slow drizzle falls to wield,
my thyme, sages and mints;
The young field calls his loves;
counting dawn's wild flow'rs,
north wind, trails two doves;
that fly to reach away stars;
My old friends came to the bog;
like drops of this rain's dew;
and they found Autumnal fog;
that spread for me and just a few.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Related quotes
Love Field
You lie so unfolded
In a love field
With your contempt for any modesty
In a love field
In a love field
In a love field
You yield with your lips still sealed
In a love field
Lost in a sea of imaginary women
Everything youd want
From the dawn to the dimming
Breath comes sharp and heart beats faster
In a love field
Cold ground for a pillow
Under a blanket of stars
In a love field
In a love field
In a love field
Headlights that startled
This embrace of hours
In a love field
In a crooked house
Where things can be arranged
You think youre different from the rest
But you dont see how youve changed
Under an archway
On a road of white linen
In a love field
Feel the anxious rhythm of a functional stranger
In a love field
In a love field
In a love field
Shes so tense but its never mentioned
In a love field
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Valor is abraded
Soldier of oddities, autumnal fog
aborning valor, confer to overfly
recalling his home, in misty bog
counting raindrops, of a gray sky..
Valor is abraded, functions a log,
his red diluted, in drizzle complies
Maiden of oddities, autumnal rain,
recalls his dark uniform, and rank,
he smiled departing, in dark train,
acclaiming prowess, his eyes sunk..
Rain drops fall from skies above,
adorning a smile, clouds to assay,
he stares in solitude, a courtly love,
her sweet glance, upon their quay..
Friendly raindrops. of a gray sky,
form splendid, in clouds ascends,
staring at cumulus, a mizzle nigh,
sweetly waving, amid his friends..
Honor is abraded, beckons away,
his crimson diluted, in rain amends.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Clary
Because of her soul, Fall was mild,
in hazy noons, light was extolling,
in green pasture souls were calling
she called me; and the sun smiled.
Upon the grass she sat on prairie,
one thousand rain drops of longing
and was her rainy smile imploring,
amidst flowers, daisies, and clary.
There our souls sing odes forever,
fly above Autumn calls of twenty;
we pretend the world 's not empty,
wind's blades our love won't sever.
Above the prairie fly white doves;
care to see her form amid flow'rs
and then as night adorns the stars,
consents our stares then, of loves.
Winds call me, from empty noons;
her soul sings and snow flakes toil,
flying leaves dance my siren's coil,
and wonder aimlessly in odd tunes.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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So Young
Orbison/curb/christian
Dawn comes up so young, dreams begin so young
And if you live just for today the day may soon be done
But theres a place where dreams always stay so young
A place to hear the sun go down and fade away
To see the wind just run away with yesterday
Anyplace for those who care zabriskie point is anywhere
Time runs out so fast on love too good to last,so young
A time to look forevers there or never found
To touch the sky and really feel the world go round
To live to love to laugh to cry to be alone
Young,so young love was meant to be wild and free
So young young,so young love is space in life
A place in time a state of mind too late I find
When tomorrows gone and love is lost so young
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Hillman’s Lass
OVER the field where the grass is cool,
(Follow the road who must !)
With a song for the beech and the brown pool,
And the noiseless tread in the dust,
With a laugh for the lazy hours that go,
And the folk who pass us by.
(The trees they grow so broad, so low,
They shut me from the sky.)
Here be strawberries wild and sweet,
(Follow the road who may !)
And here's a rest for a bairn's feet
And a kiss at the close o' day.
And here's a cloud from the shining sea
Like a white moth in the night.
(On the edge o' the barley field, may be
The stars would show more bright.)
Cut me a flute where the reeds are brown.
(Follow the road who will !)
O, I'll dress you fair in a green gown
And a cloak that is finer still.
Your sleeves shall be o' the fairies' lawn,
Your shoon as red as the rose.
(Do you think that the wind which wakes at dawn
Will bring us a breath o' the snows ?)
O, the world's wide, and the world is long.
(Follow the road who may !)
And here's a lilt of the wild song
The Romany pipers play.
And 'Mine,' it sings, 'is the moon's shield,
And the cloak o' the cloud is mine.'
(Do you think that the lowland clover field
Is sweet as the upland pine ?)
poem by Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
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There's Something Sexy About The Rain
She spread her arms and spun around
In a summer island storm
In a field of sugarcane
She taught me how and showed me why
There's something sexy about the rain
And sometimes it rained all night
And everything she did was perfect
And every way we were was right
We loved like there was no tomorrow
Then suddenly tomorrow came
And it was raining at the airport
And kept on raining on the plane
She only loved me for a season
But my heart won't ever be the same
Even now her love's the reason
There's something sexy about the rain
And sometimes when it's pouring down
I feel her kisses on my skin
I spread my arms and spin around
And let that summer island storm
Hit me like a hurricane
It's like she's right here whispering
There's something sexy about the rain
She followed me back to the city
In a picture in my mind
She's still young and she's still pretty
And even after all this time
There's something sexy about the rain
She said as it came pouring down
It feels like kisses on my skin
She spread her arms and spun around
In a summer island storm
In a field, in a field of sugarcane
She taught me how and showed me why
There's something sexy about the rain
She taught me how and she's still why
There's something sexy about the rain
Something sexy about the rain
Feels like kisses on my skin
In a summer island storm
song performed by by Kenny Chesney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Everyone Was There
Thinking about senior year
Everyone was here
Playing capture the flag at the park
Didn’t stop ‘til it got dark
And the very next day
Had poison on my arms and legs
And I didn’t even care
Because everyone was there
We were young and stupid
We were wild and crazy
But we didn’t even care
Because everyone was there
Thinking about that one Saturday
Was having fun in our own way
At a friends house we were spending the night
Think that was true? Yeah right
We were partying hard in the field
If my parents found out I’d be killed
But I didn’t even care
Because everyone was there
We were young and stupid
We were wild and crazy
But we didn’t even care
Because everyone was there
Thinking about graduation night
We were all as high as a kite
Laughing about the whole year
And we were all here
Sitting around a bonfire
With a bottle of fire water
And I didn’t even care
Because everyone was there
We were young
And we were so stupid
We were wild
And we were so crazy
We didn’t have a worry or a care
Because everyone was there
poem by Maggie lll
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sligo dream of Lorca
I dream of lorca
as the hills are lit by dawn.
The Sligo landscape into view,
the farmers wife with porridge
the breakfast makes.
The farmers early breakfasting
for sheep hills to be tended,
the cows awaken in the dawn,
the son in Boston breaks the
mother distant heart,
the field yields slow.
The outline of the trees,
seen at night as shadow,
into life will come at day,
as Lorca dies beneath the blows
as Christ three times he falls.
As he falls the frosted dawn,
the yearning pining of the sligo
hill comes into view beneath
the slow sun start.
I dream of lorca as he falls beneath
the blow of ignorance, beneath
the meadow copse and field of Spain.
Though vines cry and grapes bleed.
And green is the land,
where to school by the gate he would have passed
to learning,
and the farmer eats the toast and egg,
the day is cast,
and into shape the dream emerges
from the falling down,
the falling down of Lorca,
in another place
brings in the light of day.
poem by Bernard Kennedy
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An Ode To The Detached Leaves
Ah! The blows of autumnal wind,
Cold and callous, have encroached at last,
They have made the leaves their victims.
Look! they fall like drops of rain,
Bearing no strength of their own.
They move with the gushes of wind,
Without their own consent,
They oscillate on the wings of some invisible agents,
Who possess the secret powers,
To dispose what one proposes.
I recall once they were attached hard,
To the branches and boughs of the shadowy trees;
And sap ran into their veins,
As blood runs into the human network;
And they fluttered resisting each coldhearted gust.
They were resolute to go through each ebb and flow,
Establishing firm relations to the nourishing limbs.
And Mother Nature came stealthily to give them wash,
At the moonlit nights with the drops of dew.
While they fluttered, they produced symphony,
Unknown even to the ancient master musicians;
And they whispered in mysterious sounds,
Only understood by the cuckoos or nightingales:
The singers and agents of the feral world.
Now they rustle with each move of the autumnal gusts,
Or crackle under the feet like too crispy dried petals;
And some float on the stagnant water with green surface.
Ah! 21st century is the dawn of autumnal winds,
The blows and fatal gusts have diverted the civilizations,
And they now move on the tracks of conflicts,
Human beings fall like leaves, waft along the blows,
Detaching themselves from the nourishing boughs
And shadowy branches of faith, love and tolerance.
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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Lovely To His Eyes (Hybridanelle)
A farmer walks up to his horse and it is spring again
in the distance there’s ploughing red Massy Ferguson tractor
and he bridles the horse and there is pain
His son is out there tracking the field
seems young, vital and strong
and it’s as if he has now got to yield
and the earth is soft underfoot after the rain.
and he’s still the administrator.
A farmer walks up to his horse and it is spring again
and he still has some power to wield
and his eyes measure the ploughed field, the smell of fresh earth,
seems young, vital and strong
and he wonders how many years still remain
but the ache reminds him of the words of the doctor
and he bridles the horse and there is pain
that surrounds him, almost like a token of new birth
and the ardent Arabic horse knows its master well
and his eyes measure the ploughed field, the smell of fresh earth
and stretched out lies the farm that he has to maintain
and on the house’s thatched roof gleams the lightening conductor.
A farmer walks up to his horse and it is spring again
and he horse acts with love, as if under his spell
and life is really great under the sun, wind and sky
and the ardent Arabic horse knows its master well
and from riding horses he have got to abstain,
but he keeps his face pleasant like that of an actor
and he bridles the horse and there is pain
everything is familiar like any other day, where he is saddled high
and he feels full of spirit
and life is really great under the sun, wind and sky
the farm stretches out lovely to his eyes without a stain
and he rides to the chicken coop and the incubator.
A farmer walks up to his horse and it is spring again
and he bridles the horse and there is pain
and probably soon his only child will inherit.
His son is out there tracking the field
and he feels full of spirit
and it’s as if he has now got to yield.
poem by Gert Strydom
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A few Words to Malala of Pakistan
The world needs more young boys and girls like you.
I pray God to protect you, under his divine shield,
And to grant you a long life. You are among a few,
Who are not afraid to tell the truth. The field
Is in dire need of serious drops of rain.
Education is the key for a better life for all God's children.
Malala, you are the angel of hope,
That our world yearns for. You are brave,
And with the help of God, the brainless slave,
Who shot you, will not succeed. The Pope,
The silent majority, and many world leaders support you.
The world needs more young and fresh minds like you.
You are an inspiration to all people with common sense.
The force of darkness and evil cannot silence
Such a wonderful inspiring angel like you.
You are right, all young people need to be educated, not a very few.
The world needs more young boys and girls like you.
poem by Hebert Logerie
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Rainbow drizzle
I seldom see
those like you or me
that is why
we're meant to be
Playing our banjos
on the roof
Putting nail varnish
on a horses hoof
Rainbow drizzle
Red green and blue
I like me
I like you
Let's always stay young
having fun
we'll fly away
we'll touch the sun
When the snow falls
We'll make snowmen
Take the day off work
We'll stay out till ten
Rainbow drizzle
Red green and blue
I like me
I like you
Let's do cartwheels
In the rain
I'll pick some daisies
I'll make you a chain
Hold my hands and we'll spin
around and around
We'll get so dizzy
Fall to the ground
Rainbow drizzle
Red green and blue
I like me
I like you
poem by Frances May
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Above The Shed On The Winter Porch
Above the shed, the winter porch
a young wild dove
continually calls its mate
and when the door slides open
I see dots on its breast
and at the pond it quenches its thirst
and I see dots
and I see dots
that shines; when it is frightened it becomes sullen.
Above the shed, the winter porch
the oak tree rustles
and then my mother coughs badly from croup
where sometimes she sits and dream
as the sunshine flames up hot
and I watch her caringly
as the sunshine flames up
as the sunshine flames up
as if a field fire runs past.
Above the shed, the winter porch
a swarm of swallows peck,
sometimes doves land in a group,
and at times I hear my mother sneezing
while I am caught with a kind of hope,
but I know that time is running out
while I am caught,
while I am caught
and my life at times feels sold out.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Every Woman II... For William O Everson
every woman
I make no judgement
large small fat thin
old, young
though not too young
(I am an old man)
I accept as a beautiful landscape
a work of art to reach
to touch
to be gazed upon
every woman
a rosary I wish to pray
a set of beads I wish to tell
with aching fingers...
a sacred set of mysteries
every woman
a beautiful field I wish to roll in
a field of flowers
of mown hay
a harvest to be taken in for winter
every woman
a warm summer pond to lie into
to be held caressed
every gully every turn
a new sense of wonder
still
every woman a rosary
sacred silent deep
an offering from God
to God a whisper
of a promise
poem by R. James Sterzinger
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What is the cloud to the sun?
For what is the cloud to the sun,
It is nothing. The wind has always
Driven it away and the sun does not
Care. For want of love and care, the
Cloud plays with the fields and the
River and the sea. Impregnated it
Has conceived, and gives
Birth to the rain. The fields and the
Sea and the rivers feasted. The fields
Grow the grass and the flowers.
The sea and the rivers have
Seeded its waters with more fish.
The cloud does not like it. It has
Always dreamt of the sun but the
Wind has always blown it away.
At night the cloud talks to the moon.
And seeing the likeness of its light
To the sun that it loves, the cloud
Makes love with the shining moon.
It has given birth to the stars.
The following morning, the cloud
Is exhausted. It floats with the
Chastisements of the wind. There
Is no more direction. It still dreams
Of the sun. It dies and becomes
Taken as part of the wind. The
Cloud has become a white, clear
Sky. It is nothing. It is what you
See, when love is unrequited.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Parting Song
FESTIVAL OF THE ALUMNI, 1857
THE noon of summer sheds its ray
On Harvard's holy ground;
The Matron calls, the sons obey,
And gather smiling round.
CHORUS.
Then old and young together stand,
The sunshine and the snow,
As heart to heart, and hand in hand,
We sing before we go!
Her hundred opening doors have swung
Through every storied hall
The pealing echoes loud have rung,
'Thrice welcome one and all!'
Then old and young, etc.
We floated through her peaceful bay,
To sail life's stormy seas
But left our anchor where it lay
Beneath her green old trees.
Then old and young, etc.
As now we lift its lengthening chain,
That held us fast of old,
The rusted rings grow bright again,--
Their iron turns to gold.
Then old and young, etc.
Though scattered ere the setting sun,
As leaves when wild winds blow,
Our home is here, our hearts are one,
Till Charles forgets to flow.
Then old and young, etc.
poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes
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A Fallow Field
I have kept this fallow field
When I must be a horseman,
A keeper of wills and minds
With no shadows, no designs.
Their hooves are planted
In the field so young in taste.
A fool clasps its mind
When evil shadows must be;
It must be the stallions
That bring joy to the very heart.
I am burdened by the boaster
Of this fallow field.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Earthquake
Young heart was the king,
Puerile was the spring
The bees were sucking to nature's luring.
But suddenly
The dusk came too early
Thundering clouds raced to the field
Played with the sun and wind
White to black and a fight
Then red!
The young ones wept and we slept.
The dawn was clear
There were no tears
It was luncheon
My stomach shook the whole earth
A noise was heard on the white top
The earth hurt in pain
A new earth was born
In holy land of ours.
poem by Sanjay Mehta
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Forever Young
May God bless and keep you always
May your wishes all come true
May you always do for others
And let others do for you
May you build a ladder to the stars
And climb on every rung
May you stay forever young
Forever young, forever young
May you stay forever young
May you grow up to be righteous,
May you grow up to be true
May you always know the truth
And see the lights surrounding you
May you always be courageous
Stand upright and be strong
May you stay forever young
Forever young, forever young
May you stay forever young
May your hands always be busy
May your feet always be swift
May you have a strong foundation
When the winds of changes shift
May your heart always be joyful
May your song always be sung
May you stay forever young
Forever young, forever young
May you stay forever young
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Forever Young
May God bless and keep you always, may your wishes all come true.
May you always do for others and let others do for you.
May you build a ladder to the stars and climb on every rung,
May you stay forever young.
Forever young, forever young, may you stay forever young.
May you grow up to be righteous, may you grow up to be true.
May you always know the truth and see the lights surrounding you.
May you always be courageous, stand upright and be strong.
May you stay forever young.
Forever young, forever young, may you stay forever young.
May your hands always be busy, may your feet always be swift.
May you have a strong foundation when the winds of changes shift.
May your heart always be joyful, may your songs always be sung.
May you stay forever young.
Forever young, forever young, may you stay forever young
song performed by by Grateful Dead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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