I missed the trees
I liked my solitude, it was my soul's profit
and cared to build my prowess, with content
often I longed for my patrial home's soffit,
and felt to inhale the aura, Aegean sea sent.
I missed the wind that in pine foliage whistles,
where birds were playfully singing in Spring,
and I wanted to count the Winter's thistles,
on the plains we played, where memories cling.
Scripts are little souls that learn to survive,
in austere years afar, with my friend the sky,
celestial trajectories their scopes contrive,
where affection is limited and coldness nigh.
My icons roam on a go-to-meeting greenway,
ideal forms, with poems an affable to grace,
they follow the tracks of an infinite railway,
with scopes on a marble surface to outrace.
I missed the hovering of butterflies and bees,
the haze of joy, the warmth of April and light;
a girl that waited under the sour orange trees,
that smiled to me during my to faraway flight.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Rings Of Alloyage
Rings of Alloyage
The sky rains, on plains and souls,
Lady of then, is under the foliage,
gallivants feasts, rings of alloyage
are a betrothal bond, prime extol.
Arcanum noble lady, for me waits,
inside the forest, to adorn my light,
comes in the mizzle drops to write,
an ode sings passing the straights;
(Bright who passed the rocks lays
on sky trajectories, ether's streams;
when light passes thru his dreams;
they say he shines as Helios rays ;)
Up there his radiance vivid projects,
aloof grieved souls feel his affection;
the winds engage in this convection
her beatific glance, virtues reflects.
Skilled air musicians send modes,
when forest foliage moves in Auster;
rain comes in my solitude to foster,
and recite my poems as winter nods.
And there, of angel icons she trails,
gathers responses from years back,
she cares luminous to avidly track,
white horizons, mizzens and sails.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Hoary Memories In Winter
a day in january
in winter with hoary and grey clouds
the hoary thistles in the garden up over there
the hoary thistles with hoary poppies
the hoary frost on them
the hoary mist up and down
no finches, no birds of any kind
except the black crows and ravens
crowing up and there
hoaring covered everywhere
a hoary man strolles on them
with unsteady steps and paces
what is he after
what is he looking for
what is he searching
look at the ancient houses there
some tumbling down
some with plasters all gone
what the hoary man looks for
what is he after
his childhood may be
his memories may be
and his lost..gone mother..he tries to see
in this hoary mist
he has so missed
and longed for
he stopped in the hoary mist as if hearing a voice
calling
oh son..come on..come now the meal is ready
he felt himself playing in the hoary garden
this must be his mother call
addressing and calling him from above
calling him to her new home
cause she has missed him too
oh the hoary grasses
oh the hoary houses
oh the hoary man
oh the hoary woman
oh the hoary world
oh the hoary graves
oh the hoary memories
are we not approaching hoariness
why did we live so quickly
how did our lives finished and faded suddenly
metin sahin
poem by Metin Sahin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Blest many days
Blest many days
Blest many days, I wore your cross,
dim lantern alleys, remote felt me,
content wishes - hopes to emboss,
in musing scripts of my ink blue sea.
In my files I was values unaltered,
ways of solitude and rhythmic waves,
an unworldly ode of notes clustered,
where prowess smiles from graves.
In these scripts I became a reason,
for pondering minds to express light,
in wars innumerate sheds of crimson,
where eligible Nymphs tend my rite.
And there Dryads smiled friendly,
so I became a verse and a rhyme;
we were in a far prairie, unworldly,
reflective icons of my loss, in time.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Evermore
When time no longer brings me spring
When tendrils of sorrow begin to cling
I will walk on the corridor of tomorrow
Knowing that your love is still there
We have felt the mighty sun
Tender as a gentle father
Moonlight of lovers
We have heard the tides in wonder
Enjoy the hours together like flowers
Your warmth has showered me
Let the river take me home
When the stars call me to my home
Tears are the rain of the nighttime
Elegies with roses and their glory
I have felt the joy in the wind
I have seen the hand of love
Can you feel shadows of pine trees?
See the butterflies in the fields
I have walked amidst beauty
So shall I walk evermore
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sub Rosa
I missed the Spring.
I fell asleep under the shadows of my desires,
with mandolin sounds for lullabies
and my grandfather’s pipe,
in dreams dressed in herbal smoke and honey scents
and the beauty of my loved ones.
I missed the Spring.
I was late for my soul,
too late for a song,
deceived by the lotus flowers
and the smiles of the sirens,
their seductive bodies waving my sanity away.
I missed the Spring.
The ring of oblivion was Time’s gift,
a nursery rhyme’s forgotten curse,
here like now, absent like never,
a colourless rainbow reflection
on eyes of sadness.
I missed the Spring.
I woke up in the slumbers of my regrets,
by tribal drumbeats for breakfast
and my grandmother’s tales,
in a reality stripped of hope and home warmth,
well worth the loneliness of a poem.
I missed the Spring.
poem by Niko Tiliopoulos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Who Had Settled My Temple Of Love
People when you meet my beloved
Please tell him that I missed him so
Please tell him that I missed his angelic smile
Tell him that mylife is empty without his love
Tell him that I missed his charming eyes
Maybe the flame of our love deserted his heart
But tell him that his love will forever survive
Deeper of my heart will never die
Every morning with sun will come to the life
If you ever meet him please ask him
Who is touching his pure soul
Who had settled my temple of love
How much i'm in need to the warmth of his hug
Like a child that is in need to her mother's hug
He was my only shelter
Only there my soul could rest in peace Still his hug revives in my mind
His words of love when everytime comes to my mind
My soul becomes crazy and begins to sing the same old love songs
He was my world
And his love was my wealth
Who hassettled in my house
Though long long years had passed us by
But the tears of my heart never stopped
Still I shead a tear every once in a while
I forgot even myself
But the memories of his love are always alive
Here deeper of my heart forever will survive.
poem by Sossi Khachadourian
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Sea and Me
Light a lamp inside my home
so I may feel welcome from whence I roam.
For I have been gone for much too long.
I yearn to hear your sad sweet song.
The light of the lamp will say to me
that I have been missed too much by thee.
Such is the life of a man of the sea,
torn between work and his family.
I've missed the smell of food just cooked
and the taste of it and how it looked.
The time I've lost with you by my side
brings me all the tears I must hide.
The sea is my home away from you.
It's what I love. It's what I do.
But when I return from ventures on high
I know where my heart also does lie,
Between the sea and you, whom I love,
beneath the stars and the sky above.
Be patient my wife and pray for me
and keep the lamp lit so I may see
the warmth of the lamp that fills my heart
and keep it lit when I depart.
For the sea is calling and I must go
out where the waves and the wind doth blow.
Such is the life of this family of mine
as I sail the sea and they do pine.
God, grant them peace. Let the lamp stay lit.
For this life I love I cannot quit.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Autumn in Mosaic! !
Shreds of red n orange, on base very jade
Spread in the yard, winters on the chase
Tangled all the way, dispersal is its phase
Fall on the way, my autumns in mosaic.
Chills in the wind, blowing in all grace
No warmth in trees, no more cozy shades
Saying bye with a hope, then asks to wait
Fall on the way, my autumns in mosaic.
Same were the days
You by my side and a hint of haze
Lost somewhere, never solved that maze
Fall on the way, my autumns in mosaic.
Come home back to me, you are dearly missed
For world its fall, but my heart's ablaze
Desires so many, like the buds in Mays
Fall on the way, my autumns in mosaic.
poem by Samima Shah
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Poem For A Cold Woman....
gradually i feel the coldness of
your touch
your words are sour
the change is noticeable
i do not beg for affection
i do not force myself in your coldness
you need the warmth of the sun
i am not the sun
you must need someone
other than my begging which i do not have for now
i know where to go
i go home
and my home is myself
you have become a stranger
an alien port where my boat cannot dock
perhaps
this is what goodbye is all about
a ripe fruit
which is not for my picking
it is now all yours.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
And You...Now Wish So Much for Spring
After Summer days are gone,
You seem to be lurching in hushed compassion...
For someone to carry on,
Those Summer days...
Time has moved away.
As if from you to pawn.
And then when Fall is welcomed in the midst,
Your mind slowly searches...
What it is you believe is missed.,
From a past now reminisced.
As if seeking through memories,
Those hours missed you wish to revisit.
And the buzzing of the bees,
Impatiently waved away.
When Spring budded flowers...
Were ignored but birthing to bloom.
Had no room in your mind,
To find them enchanting.
And you,
Now wish so much for Spring...
To again come soon,
To revisit the bees...
Flowers and trees,
With scented breezes.
You somehow miss.
But next time you promise,
To explore every bit to devour it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
When Spring Is In The Air
You always know
when spring is in the air;
the trees start to show
their blossom everywhere.
Birds go through the ritual
of picking their mate.
Love seems to touch
every living thing
at this time of the year.
Slowly courting couples
will emerge from winter’s cold
and find the warmth of spring.
The sun will give us its grace
and warm breezes will blow.
Calling to everyone,
wake up spring is here.
7 April 2008
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A moment missed
Remember when I asked you out?
And how you shed a tear.
Remember how I told you.
That I'd stay for all those years.
Remember our first kiss?
Under a moonlit sky.
Remember the fireworks.
That shone in your eyes.
A smeared kiss.
A moment missed.
Remember all the promises?
That we never seemed to keep.
Remember all the times.
I held you when you'd weep.
Remember all the walks we took?
On the beach at midnight.
Remember when we were perfect?
And everything felt right.
A smeared kiss.
A moment missed.
Remember that rose I sent you?
For our schools winter dance.
Remember when we broke up?
And I begged for a second chance.
Remember when you got pregant.
And I stayed right by your side.
Remember how I bought that ring?
And took your hand in mine.
A smeared kiss.
A moment missed.
Remember when I became a dad?
And held my baby girl.
Remember how we fought for names.
And ended up with Pearl.
Remember her first birthday?
And that pretty teddy bear.
Remember her old blankie?
That she carried everywhere.
A smeared kiss.
A moment missed.
Remember how you left me?
With not a word goodbye.
Remember how you took her?
And left me there to die.
Remember all those years?
That you spent far away.
Remember our dying love?
That was ment to always stay.
A smeared kiss.
A moment missed.
Remember the years after?
When you became a whore.
Remember how you took off?
And walked through that same door.
Remember when you got drunk?
And they took our Pearl away.
Remember how I took the fall.
Even though you were too blame.
A smeared kiss.
A moment missed.
Remember how you changed?
And forgot what use to be.
Remember how you hit her?
When our girl had just turned three.
Remember all those moments?
That we thought would last forever.
Remember all our memories?
That we had shared together.
A smeared kiss.
A moment missed.
Remember when you lost your future?
And chose to slice your wrists.
Remember the note you sent me?
Saying please remember this.
Today it's three years later.
And our baby's turning five.
Today she has no mommy.
Because you chose to die.
A smeared kiss.
A moment missed.
poem by Silence Dogood
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Spring Begins (Terza Rima Sonnet)
I hear the music, magic all around,
the little birds are singing in my dreams,
ah, how I missed this pleasant, joyful sound.
I feel the freshness of the crystal streams.
White snowdrops gently say the Spring is here.
Through puffy clouds, the sun so happy gleams,
the rain has stopped; the sky is blue and clear.
Pink tulips wake up early from the snow,
Spring is indeed the best time of the year.
The gardens missed the old romantic glow.
Blue angels dance; the world in wonder spins.
The Winter cries. She's sad and has to go.
She shows, last time, her irritated grins;
The Spring has won again the Spring begins!
poem by Marius Alexandru (February 2022)
Submitted by anonym
Vote! | Copy!
Spring Is Gone
As the coldness creeps closer
The bitterness begins to grow
The sun left us alone
Now that spring is gone
The air grows heavy
The frost eats up my skin
Flowers died on this ongoing trend
Winter has finally come
The Moon gain power over the day
He puts the sun to shame
The trees will lose their souls
Winter has a heavy toll
I am reaching for the sky
For the stars that will always shine
And wish on a shooting star that spring
Will awaken and come back to save me
Death rules this time of year
And drifts away
Living souls shall shed a tear
Winter is filled with sorrow
The sun will never shine
Upon whom winter wrath, will be taken
Everyone will be forsaken
On this oak pine
Spring left our world
Leaving us for freedom
We didn't treat spring right
We don't have the right to keep her
Winter has given us the punishment
And we shall take it
poem by Elisha De La Rosa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Joy Of Spring
The sky above is shinning blue today,
And sun beams are playfully kissing the earth,
Flowers rise proud its stalks and tell us their stories,
A sleeping nature getting back to life in its glorious way.
The peace of grass rustling in the wind,
Is melting with the twitter of happy birds in trees,
Spring time has come to us again,
A spectacular view my eyes enjoy today.
Trees turn green are budding as life rebirth,
The exuberance of orange, blue, purple, yellow came,
And warm my heart in misterious ways,
With such variety of colours this spring make bold my soul in grace.
New beginnings in our lives have start,
Brought by the refreshment of a sunny march day,
I will never forget what spring time means,
Joy of spring took my breath away again.
poem by Cristina Teodor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
My Single Orange Rose
Here is my prose,
All based on a single orange rose,
Grave grass springing,
Church hyms their singing,
Blood stains clinging,
On my single orange rose,
No soul is laughing,
Deaths hands are clapping,
Coffin case trapping,
On my single orange rose,
Trees are branching,
My cold blank eyes are trancing,
The life cycle of death is dancing,
On my single orange rose,
I picked my final wish,
On deaths lips I kissed,
My long life I missed,
All because of that single orange rose,
COPYRIGHT 2008 BEN SPARACO POEMS
poem by Ben Sparaco
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Vote! | Copy!
Winter's Whitest Spurts
Although John Clare declared that he
saw spring in winter’s whitest spurts,
for many this is hard to see
when, freezing, all our body hurts,
and winter’s direst discontent
makes cold blasts pierce the frozen soul.
We wonder where the summer went
when icy winds exact their toll,
and whistling toll for all of us
on nights we wish would be more silent.
each blast a blaring blunderbuss
that’s aimed to make us all an island,
disconnected from the spring
and summer, fall, that we remember
when we for warmth our cold arms fling
around each other in December.
Inspired by John Clare’s “The Winter’s Spring”:
THE winter comes; I walk alone,
I want no bird to sing;
To those who keep their hearts their own
The winter is the spring.
No flowers to please-no bees to hum-
The coming spring's already come.
I never want the Christmas rose
To come before its time;
The seasons, each as God bestows,
Are simple and sublime.
I love to see the snowstorm hing;
'Tis but the winter garb of spring.
I never want the grass to bloom:
The snowstorm's best in white.
I love to see the tempest come
And love its piercing light.
The dazzled eyes that love to cling
O'er snow-white meadows sees the spring.
I love the snow, the crumpling snow
That hangs on everything,
It covers everything below
Like white dove's brooding wing,
A landscape to the aching sight,
A vast expanse of dazzling light.
It is the foliage of the woods
That winters bring-the dress,
White Easter of the year in bud,
That makes the winter Spring.
The frost and snow his posies bring,
Nature's white spurts of the spring.
12/24/09
poem by Gershon Hepner
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sad Autumn and Winter
The autumn had passed
And the winter has come
When all the love had fell, longing
I was speechless and cannot speak
I am singing the melody that flared up from my brain
Like the sun melted the snow
And removing all the think that hurt
Like the dust blown by the wind
Under the same sky
In difference hemisphere
I trusted you
And hidding behind the cloud, cold
I meeting you in my dreams
You were so mad at your mother
Telling her that i wont run into your house
Your friend telling me, tear
Red, Orange, and Blue
Sweet, Sour, and Fresh
Love was like the colour of fire, burn
I climb up a ladder
Step by step
Like i was played the game
Level by level, break
Isn't it ironic
When that time you was going to kiss me at some point if you got me
Finally, what can you feel are the taste of nectar on your tongue, bitter
But beautiful as butterfly
Will i be loving you?
How can i put into words
I cannot feel you
How nice that words in my lips, lost
There will be memories at my brain
When i fall asleep
I will remember that story
Like i have wrote a word in my diary
And will be reminiscence, reminisce
Finally,
What can i see
Only a piece of sky
What can i say
Only thinks that you cant imagine
I sent away the letter by a blast of cold wind
Without your name
I am content with loneliness
poem by Taylor Downs
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!