Meander
Rain of Tuesday, flowing in wet seams;
watery rivulets run along road sides;
to faraway, vanishing in rainy streams;
I see you smiling, in my college slides;
A maid within Autumn mizzle to dance,
it was a September to recall, euphoric,
in blissful years traveler, stare askance,
occurring in my austere, hard life Doric.
In Boston Aquarium, with seals laughing,
Used a Minolta camera and Rokkor lens
eyes full of surprises, curiously asking,
inditing words on palms, with Cross pens.
Oettinger GTI races to one hundred sixty
black plummet bellows on P7 to reckon,
upon a meander path in woods, misty,
Alpine sounds a mystique fog, to second.
.................................. ....…
Amid woods our images will drive forever,
two wraiths will travel on a trip beautiful;
nostalgic to salute the trees - a meander,
is coiling to infinity, loving and wistful.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Blance, where were you...?
Blance, where were you when I was still alive?
come just to think of it, life was a game;
Recall we were racing on Storrow Drive.
Black vanishing plummet, Oettinger strive
race on marginal speed is not to blame
Blance where were you when I was still alive?
Wolf-colder bite November frost to skive;
Vain was this agon for, distance to tame;
Recall we were racing on Storrow Drive.
Breathless our life was at twenty-five,
live dangerous, on road, afore to aim,
Blance where were you when I was still alive?
Selected Nymph, one promise to derive;
She was a softer misty form, my dame;
Recall we were racing on Storrow Drive.
Apotheotic nacreous form, swan dive;
November of anamnesis, became,
Blance where were you when I was still alive?
Recall we were racing on Storrow Drive.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Way Through the Woods
They shut the road through the woods
Seventy years ago.
Weather and rain have undone it again,
And now you would never know
There was once a road through the woods
Before they planted the trees.
It is underneath the coppice and heath,
And the thin anemones.
Only the keeper sees
That, where the ring-dove broods,
And the badgers roll at ease,
There was once a road through the woods.
Yet, if you enter the woods
Of a summer evening late,
When the night-air cools on the trout-ringed pools
Where the otter whistles his mate.
(They fear not men in the woods,
Because they see so few)
You will hear the beat of a horse's feet,
And the swish of a skirt in the dew,
Steadily cantering through
The misty solitudes,
As though they perfectly knew
The old lost road through the woods. . . .
But there is no road through the woods.
poem by Rudyard Kipling
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Clouds
Clouds, the clouds diffuse a sad and somewhat somber hue;
Rain, the rain descends aslant from angry ashen skies;
Winds, the winds bemoan their loss of reins and calm control;
Shades, the shades appear suffused, alone in lurid haze;
Trees, the trees enshroud the eyes of misty brooding woods;
Leaves, the leaves desert their branches, falling one by one;
Birds, the birds intone a tune, a mourning monody;
Grass, the grass surrenders blades, impaled in truant winds;
Fields, the fields imbibe and quaff to quench an arid thirst;
Stones, the stones repulse the pearls, exploding tears of gloom;
Streams, the streams meander, hushed, to distant vapid shores;
Clouds, the clouds diffuse a sad and somewhat somber hue
poem by Terry O'Leary
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Used-Up Joe
I'm de only one left ob de Colony niggers;
How things do meander away!
When dey count my yeahs dey break down on de figgers,--
Fer things will meander away.
I was heah when Columbus discubbered Ohio;
I'm dyin' wid hunger today.
Lock me up in a pantry day's filled wid mince-pie--
Oh! how things would meander away.
Brudder Gabriel, blow! I am ready to go;
I am tired ob dis long delay.
You've de wicked to warn; better look for yer horn,--
Fer things will meander away.
I's as poor as de turkey dat Job was its owner;
How things do meander away!
I'm as sick as de whale when he landed up Jonar,--
Fer things will meander away.
I'm in debt for my day before yesterday's dinner,
An' can't find de cash fer to pay:
In dat Savin's Band game some one else was de winner,--
Fer things will meander away.
I'm a gnarly ole tree, wid a hurricane fightin';
How things do meander away!
All de limbs are torn off, an' de leabes gone akittin',--
Fer things will meander away.
Send me home for repairs when de hurricane ceases;
Remember de words dat I say!
Tie me up in a bag, an' don't stop for de pieces,--
Fer things will meander away.
Had my right eye knocked out by a word dat I hollered;
How things do meander away!
Called a white man a fool, an' an axerdent follered,--
Fer things will meander away.
Den a railroad collusion run ober some cattle,
An' one ob my limbs went astray;
An' anudder I left on de cornfield ob battle,--
Fer things will meander away.
Nitro-glycerum cans are not safe to unsodder;
How things do meander away!
An' wid circular saws 'tisn't wise fer to bodder,--
Fer things will meander away.
Dis ere top-lock was lifted by red Injun debils;
'Twas den de black wool become gray;
An' my last wooder leg was shot off by de rebels,--
For things will meander away.
Nicodemus, my son-in-law, long ago started;
How things do meander away!
An' dey say, from de gum-tree his bones hab departed,--
Fer things will meander away.
He will nebber come back, let me tell ye--no, nebber!
To pick up his burden of clay:
Gib a mud-turtle wings an' a free pass forebber,--
Ob course he'll meander away.
poem by Henry Clay Work
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Gray birds
In rain walking, same memories I embellish
the Northern cold's recounts close beckon
a harbourless wandering in lands to reckon
faithful folds my ensign of love and cherish.
Some gray birds sitting on the wires stare,
our images recall to pass, and in the mizzle,
numb feel and wet, dull in aloneness fizzle,
lost, wet birds inside the rain, on lonely fair.
They disperse inside the mists, shed tears,
descending fog comprises, soul's ambition,
in fog's dusk outspreads my half-lit volition,
gray birds on wires, stare in rain for years.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Undiluted rain
Undiluted were the tears she shed,
staring to far, as doves fled in pairs,
dusk descended amid broken affairs,
the silence was dense; my one wed.
It was September, the first of rain,
after the harvest, the maids passed,
with persistence the clouds amassed,
drops falling randomly to our refrain.
So she belonged to mizzle's Autumn,
our glances crossed, curious, well set,
powerful of a coincidence, as we met,
first rain formed an uplifting column.
She wore black, of stored grievance,
all hearths lost kin in freedom's war,
in nineteen hundred ten, and before;
our eyes dueled, she stared askance.
I passed that night under her louvres,
she gazed; velvet her glance an' braw,
her attitude bold, untamed and wraw,
her eyes contained my poetic oeuvre.
The moon rose out that night round,
unsubmitted she came, in lunar light,
Pressed against the wall a flesh rite,
to carnal prayer she turned on ground.
And then again, the downpour started,
eyes reflecting flash, on earth groped,
with me confessor to skies she eloped,
under the rain, her lips bitten imparted.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Leisure
What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.
No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.
No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night.
No time to turn at Beauty's glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.
No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.
A poor life this is if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
poem by William Henry Davies
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Act of God?
A coin when dropped will
In one second, fall sixteen feet
In two, sixty four
In three, one hundred and forty four.
They were driving back from Sydney
Mum and Dad and their two kids
The freeway was a nightmare
So they took the old road that they did.
The old road’s quite an old road
Been there for many years
The rain was slanting sideways
Being late home was their fear.
It was night and many lights were out
The road was dark and quite awash
Water running everywhere
The kids shrieked with every splash.
A short drive now back to the warmth
Of the house in which they lived
A short drive back now to that home
Where they brought up both their kids.
Just two and three I think they were
A precious time of life
The kids strapped in the back seat
In the front was man and wife.
A dip there in the road appeared
Just where there is a creek
But we’ll be home soon they both said
Both kids were now asleep.
‘Slow down now, that’s deep water’
Said the man unto his wife
Those were the very final words
He would utter in his life.
One hundred feet, one hundred feet
One hundred feet or more
Was the depth of that great puddle
Into which the rain had poured.
It was at a place called Somersby
When the rain had drained away
That they winched up that death carriage
On the following grey day.
Yes, the chasm it was very deep
A Grand Canyon not a puddle
So for everyone upon that road
And every time you loved ones cuddle
Just think of those four driving home
And think of their full fright
And hold each other closely
Each and every single night
We should live for every minute
We should relish every hour
For simple stupid circumstance
Can destroy life’s fragile flower.
A coin when dropped will
In one second fall sixteen feet
In two, sixty four
In three, one hundred and forty four.
It was that deep.
I met the family's best friend in a local pub yesterday. He had just got back from identifying the bodies.
poem by David Keig
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Wordfall
Among the dark trees these in autumn prime
rise under empty skies/Let colour leaven
the shadowed woods I wander through in time.
Red oak and bright sweet chestnut spread sublime
rich canopies for jay or squirrel, woven
among the dark trees, these. In autumn prime,
acorns and prickly chestuts challenge rhyme,
pale cases and their gilt-speared leaves enliven
the shadowed woods I wander through. In time,
late summer chills the landscape. As I climb
words dropp like a snow-warning, white as heaven
among the dark trees. These in autumn prime
their measures with the season, pulse and mime
and fall in hasty turbulence, panic driven
from sahdowed words I wander through. In time
drifts of their meaning overwhelm me. I'm
victim and foool of wordall in this haven
among the darkteres, thefse, in autumn, prime
the shadowed woods. I wander through, in time.
From the Great North Road,2007
poem by Sally Evans
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Country Heritages Forever
The rains is came to the village without notice voice is come noise
Breeze blowing through wet leafs all of natural bloomed by bade
Couldn't really judge morning noon or evening the long moment sun is hide
But the woods trees and cultivated never feared for darkness with rain come
The black clouds among start beaming on set birds are singing like luster morning
Hanging dew from leaf sparkle like mini star sun is smiling
The leeches are stretch between grass like became new power for further living
The noise of pouring water from dame increase by rain coming
The flowers moving by breeze butterfly sucking pollen among rain
Many people walking with umbrella they never defeat rain
Someone late and thinking with looking far away sky beautiful seen
Between rain misty flare colorful rainbow near of horizontal which of beautiful seen
The fortune every dwelling place comes with rain at august summer
Every people smile and make them hope developing own country heritages forever
One song and one phrase living together one nation creative with rain summer
Every foes make hopes capture strange of heritage mix with water and flowing like glacier
poem by Inguruwatta Pushpadewa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Ode To A Robert Frost Poem
I thought I took the road less taken.
But I guess I was mistaken.
When the two paths diverged in the woods; I pondered at which path I must take.
I took the path to my left in the woods; Was it the right path to take?
It was not, but I digress.
Why must I deal will all this stress?
As I sit and try to recall all of the words from the poem Frost once wrote, I must emote.
This ode to that grand old poem that Frost once wrote.
The name of that Robert Frost poem is 'The Rode Not Taken'.
As I write this ode to a Robert Frost's poem, the words he wrote be not mistaken.
I thought I took the path less taken.
I will now end this ode to go eat some bacon.
poem by Nichole Kaci McKnight
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Dew Drops
Outranged's the meadow's faraway,
where sky sheds winter's first cold drops,
the lyre of winds in bogs will play,
nocturnal dance and moon's ballet,
the shelter sheds will ring sky drops,
silence responds - her voice atop,
the blooms in mists salute and sway,
tis where she felt her tears' dew drops.
Commendable the feast expands,
in time the dancers reach the fair,
rain drops will fall on green dewed grass,
musicians' violins and trumps,
her siren's voice responds with flair,
night solitude's bird singers stare,
in mists salute the wraiths who pass,
as rain drops dew her face and flare.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Old Road, The Old Way
Somewhere, somehow
There must be a road, a path
That goes, that leads beyond
Way beyond woman and man...
A Way, that really can be travelled
By all who desire;
An old-old road, a dirt trail
From the deep past
To far ahead
-neither traversed by plane, boat nor rail-
Simply a road, a path
To be walked, crawled, or carried upon by mortal man...
Blazed from and for eternity
-not always difficult nor easy-
A quiet, a gentle Way
Ever calling, ever leading
A peaceful, a beautiful trail...
It is somewhere, out there, and in here
Then and now, forever
From before light, to beyond the last sunset
Going so far
That it now only 'seems' to be
Yet so near
It always is.
Only God truly knows
Where all it's been
And to where fully it finally goes.
But for all
All who do seek
It is a very welcome old road, a good old path;
Down it look, see
A connecting... of now to all eternity...
A million-million
Perhaps a billion-billion
Shadows upon it go, and shall go
One and all forever unending.
Along the way is such beauty
Peace is the air to breath
Rest and joy the pace offered
Something grand dim and far ahead
Where music and laughter faint is heard
A place of great dancing, and fiesta surely awaits.
This old road, the true-old path
So hard to see
Yet so easy to find
It runs between the eternities
Connecting God to man
The never beginning
With the never ending
It shall forever stand.
Tread upon it, walk it's wonderous way
Released from burden
Heart and soul begin to mend.
No more pacing the cage
End of the ravinous age
Stroll freely on
Meander joyfully along
This good old path
This good old Way
That runs forever into
That pure, promised never ending Day.
poem by Smoky Hoss
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Across The Universe
Words are flowing out like endless rain into a paper cup,
They slither while they pass, they slip away across the universe.
Pools of sorrow waves of joy are drifting through my open mind,
Possessing and caressing me.
Jai Guru De Va Om
Nothings gonna change my world
Nothings gonna change my world.
Images of broken light which dance before me like a million eyes,
That call me on and on across the universe,
Thoughts meander like a restless wind
Inside a letter box they
Tumble blindly as they make their way
Across the universe
Jai Guru De Va Om
Nothings gonna change my world
Nothings gonna change my world.
Sounds of laughter shades of earth are ringing
Through my open views inciting and inviting me.
Limitless undying love which shines around me like a million suns,
It calls me on and on across the universe
Jai Guru De Va Om
Nothings gonna change my world
Nothings gonna change my world.
song performed by by 10 Cc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Speeding Down
Plummet slides in empty sky
strings a life along its cry,
my free fall is speeding down
deathly helmet is my crown;
Stringing end of darken cause,
mournful rainfall to recall
speeding down a deathly way
speeding bound the sky way.
The parachute will not overt,
this suicide is my subvert;
one hundred secs time to buy,
Falling down before I fly.
Hundred sixty going on high,
miles to kill, toasts to die,
where I recount waves on shores,
spin me down, spill my loss.
Open Hades' Stygian doors
life's a swallow of lost wars;
speeding down a deathly way.
speeding bound the sky way.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Smile For The Camera
I see you standing out there in the hall
You seem so nervous waiting for his call
I focus on you
I reach for the lens
The shutter snaps again
(smile)
Smile for the camera
You know
(smile)
The camera never ever lies
Ive been watching you with
Eager hungry eyes
For sometime
(smile)
I hold my lens in the middle of the night
Visions of you dancing in the strobe light
Up on my wall is a picture or two
Of someone who looks like you
(smile)
Smile for the camera
You know
(smile)
The camera is my wide lens
(smile)
You know the camera is my private eye
I got color transparencies
I got black and white
(smile)
Smile for the camera
You know that
(smile)
Cameras never ever lies
(smile)
Ive been watching you with telephoto eyes
For some time
(smile)
Smile for me
(come on)
Smile for me
(come on)
Smile for me
(come on)
Smile for me
(come on)
Smile for me
(come on)
Smile for me
(come on)
(smile)
Wont you smile for the camera
Wont you smile for the
Click, click, click
(smile)
Smile for the camera
(smile)
Smile for the camera
(smile)
Smile for the camera
(smile)
Smile for the camera
(smile)
Smile for the camera
(smile)
You know
(smile)
The camera is my private eye
(smile)
Ive got color transparencies
(smile)
Ive got black and white
(smile)
Smile for the camera
You know that
(smile)
Cameras never ever lies
(smile)
Ive been watching you with telephoto eyes
(smile)
Smile for the camera
You know that
(smile)
Camera is my private eye
(smile)
Ive been watching you
With eager hungry eyes for some time
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Wraith II
A call of the gust speaks thousand words
passing amid the weeping cries of Cedars,
bears up souls in woods, lost nightly hordes,
amounting solitude, of Pine needle guitars;
Wind is blowing mournful amid the foliage,
while rain's droplets whisper caressing,
leaves that rest on the ground to assuage,
the wraith's solitude, of self addressing.
Denoting calls in the breeze, a black Alder,
designing spirals of airy spells, around Fir,
a wraith whirls in twilit dance; sky's border,
were we subdued in lightless and void glare?
Rain is falling, souls turned up to bedizen,
skies are blessing the form that sky-rises,
benignant smiles spirits bestow to glazen,
as lonely Dryads spell whispering advises.
The wraith whirls in twilit play; to faraway,
beckons above Oaks shingle, her dusky wing,
our souls in woods, ghosts of a dour Sunday,
dwell in Cedars; call of cold gust and sting.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
We are all treading the vanishing road of a song in the air, the vanishing road of the spring flowers and the winter snows, the vanishing roads of the winds and the streams, the vanishing road of beloved faces.
quote by Richard Le Gallienne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
What A Beautiful Sound
beautiful sounds
that stir the heart
free awakening soul
lift flight sky spirit
sound of river running wide unified flowing
sound of creek running downhill leaping splashing
sound of stillness crisp haunting in still mountain morning
sound of wind timeless moving over through forest trees growing
sound of whispers retracting as first soft snow flutters falling
sound of soft rain tender kissing warm earth embraces water waiting
sound of rain heavy droplets embracing dancing love symphony greeting
sound of storm clouds fast running painting sky black spiraling
sound of thunder freedom singing vibrating through poet laughing
sound of morning awaking to gentle joy of my young daughters laughing
a beautiful sound is bliss joy of young daughters happiness laughing
a beautiful sound is healthy children fed soul wonder bliss laughing
a beautiful sound is our well fed children in joy mind song laughing
a beautiful sound is God smiling with me in child mind song laughing
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Late September.
When spinney wears a misty shawl.
Where colours blaze before they fall.
The sun performs just one last dance
Amid the trees for lovers' glance.
Sweet scented refuge from Eden born
As memory thumbs through pages torn,
Where Autumn hue and poetry rhymed.
Grandmother made jam,
Grandfather clock chimed.
We ploughed the fields and scattered
Help to the needy hand
On Sunday sang songs out of tune
Thanked God for the fertile land.
Late September I stand under harvest moon.
The equinox has come too soon.
The fire of youth, age quenched with tears
Now candlelight of halcyon years
Once seeds of summer, we are Autumn's ember
Just hold my hand this late September.
poem by Kevin East
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!