Winter
winter is on its peak
sun doing sneak peak
cool breeze sway swish rush
with fast moving gush
rain drops struck the ground
with a low ticking sound
the chirping birds once gay
are now in their perch looking far astray
the season of mirth delight
is still far out of sight
sadness sorrow all around
to them is this weather bound
poem by Gule Rukhsar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Power Of Nature
Let the sunshine fall on you
Let the breeze flow through you
The sound of rain penetrates within you
And the birds sing with you.
The hot sun
The cool breeze
The wet rain
The melodious chirping.
Let the sunshine lead you
Let the breeze make your way
The sound of rain is your voice
The song of birds is your choice.
It’s the magic of nature
That is your signature
Throw away all your fear
You have the power of nature.
poem by Prachi Agrawal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Monsoon at peak! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
Monsoon at peak
I hear a monologue-
Rain speaks…
Monsoon at peak,
Thatched roofs
Leak…
Monsoon at peak,
Corn on cob
Wins over coffee…
Monsoon at peak,
Can I go out, mother?
A child pleads…
Monsoon at peak,
A boy steals a look
At a girl soaked to skin…
Monsoon at peak,
Roads flooded,
Where is MCD?
Monsoon at peak,
Umbrellas
New fashion accessory…
Monsoon at peak,
Sun gets much needed
Rest…
Monsoon at peak,
Bathes
Foliage and trees.
Monsoon at peak
Schools closed
Children squeal,
Wish, it rains
Everyday of the week…
Monsoon at peak,
Leave your shoes at the door-
Mother screams…
Monsoon at peak,
Driver stops
To wipe the wind shield…
Monsoon at peak,
Open pavements
Home to many,
Wear deserted look …
Monsoon at peak,
Wet laundry-
Sun rise, please.
poem by Mamta Agarwal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Pleasant Day For July
In the cool sun of mid Winter a gentle northern breeze
Is whispering in the parkland on the gum and wattle trees
The leaves are quietly stirring as the branches gently sway
And the sparrows are chirping on a pleasant Winter's day.
Going by the weather forecast heavy rain is on the way
The calm before the storm as some are known to say
But we won't be complaining as we do need lots of rain
To add to the Town reservoir and bring life to the creek and drain.
A pleasant day for July in the Southern Winter of the year
The sweet flute of the magpie is a joyful thing to hear
The blackbirds in the garden gathering material for their nest
And Spring is not that distant the Season many love best.
A pleasant day for July with just a slight chill in the air
And even in the southern Winter days such as this are rare
The first of September the calendar Spring's first day
In time does not seem distant barely six weeks away.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Peak
Peak is here
Peak is there
Go here go there
Go anywhere
and find peak
only peak.
Reach peak
find chick
with chic
be chief.
Chirp, chirp
keep, keep.
Where is peak
where is peak
It is only you
who can pick peak.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A moment in time! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
Summer at peak;
a young man
in a white singlet.
Summer at peak;
a young girl
in short sleeves.
Summer at peak;
A child licks
Ice cream.
Summer at peak;
an infant
On inhaler.
Summer at peak;
A young couple
Cosy in cinema hall seats.
Summer at peak;
A vendor
Sells lime water.
Summer at peak;
Gulmohar petals
lie limp on grass.
Summer at peak;
Dust haze,
Road rage.
Summer at peak;
beads of sweat
slide on lips.
Summer at peak,
Street wars,
Blame it on heat.
poem by Mamta Agarwal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
An Icicle Kiss
'I am the Winter Flower'
she said
'the opposite of the Summer Ones.'
'My blooms
peak in deep snow
and I weather
hail, sleet and bitter cold.
My Summer Kin
know the Sun.
I live beneath
White Winter's Glow
withstanding
blizzard wind
as furies blow.
I produce
anti-cold;
survive
winter's
frozen mold.
My petals
are steel-forged
for winter has made
me strong.
My bulb forces it's way
up through frozen ground
and defiant
I face worst Winter's onslaughts.
My petals
fold, unfold
peak,
and stare Winter down.
I am the Winter Flower
beautiful in my Ice Tower.
I too,
have my Ice Prince
who plants upon me
an Icicle Kiss
beneath diamond shining
beautiful,
frosty
Wintry Stars.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
It Smells Like Rain
It smells like rain
filling the air
before the first drops break
in quiet splashes on the river.
It smells like rain
musty and fresh at once
warning the birds
to go home.
And the rain comes
water on water
cool rush of sound
quieting insects
teasing fish
drenching boaters
surprised by the storm.
It smells like rain
It sounds like rain
It looks like rain, now
I’ll go outside
and feel the rain.
Hell. I’ll be the rain.
poem by Robert Fort
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Winter Season
Winter season has arrived
All that has survived
Is once again at risk
Everyone is in brisk
Attempt to keep hot
At every spot
All creatures are still
Birds is keeping closed its bill
Weather is chill
Ready to kill
With icy hands
In many lands
Always be careful
The weather is cool
Media have already told
Be ready to beat the cold
It is winter season
Protect from cold for a reason
Keep yourself warm
To avoid any harm
poem by Shashikant Nishant Sharma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Lunch Break: Peak Hour
I see it all through my window it seems
Never failing like millions of bees
All that is wrong
No time will be won
All they need to do-o-o-o
What can be done?
Peak hour, peak hour, peak hour
Minds are subject to what should be done
Problem solved, time cannot be won
One hour a day
One hour at night
Sees crowds of people
All meant for flight
Peak hour, peak hour, peak hour
It makes me want to run out and tell them
Theyve got time
Take a step back out
And look in at their debt
And their time
Minds are subject to what should be done
Problem solved, time cannot be won
One hour a day
One hour at night
Sees crowds of people
All meant for flight
Peak hour, peak hour, peak hour
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The blossom only once
A woman gets her peak
when she is explored with fervour,
as if she was under a beast.
A man gets his peak
when he explores her with ardour,
as if she was a goat to a wolf..
We have mortgaged our peak
to the monogamous, mono-gyandri system.
Hence, all nights are dull other than
the first night to each couple.
09.05.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Peak Hour
I see it all through my window it seems.
Never failing, like millions of eels.
All that is wrong,
No time to be won.
Only to do
What can be done.
Peak hour,
Peak hour,
Peak hour.
Minds are subject to what should be done.
Problem solved, time cannot be won.
One hour a day,
One hour a night
Sees crowds of people
Home-aimed for flight.
Peak hour,
Peak hour,
Peak hour.
It makes me want to run out and tell them
They've got time.
Take a step back out and warn them
I've found out I've got time.
Minds are subject to what should be done.
Problem solved, time cannot be won.
One hour a day,
One hour a night
Sees crowds of people
Home-aimed for flight.
Peak hour,
Peak hour,
Peak hour.
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Easy to Indulge
Moist and sweet,
Like a Macintosh can be in Spring!
An apple bitten dripping juice...
Savored as the brisk warm breeze blowing,
Upon the sight of blossoming flowers.
And the young budding leaves,
On an assortment of swaying trees!
Enchanting images imagined and seen.
Quickly I eat every morsel before I leave.
So much of this feeds my appetite.
And yet this is the beginning...
Of a new season delight I witness!
It will be here for me to enjoy even more.
Mother Nature teases to peak my interests...
Knowing I am easy to indulge Her every move.
She is delicious...
And She satisfies that need in me!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Song. Low hung the dark clouds
LOW hung the dark clouds on Plinlimmon's tall peak,
And slowly, yet surely, the winter drew near;
When Ellen, sweet Ellen, a tear on her cheek,
Exclaimed as we parted, 'In May I'll be here.'
How swiftly I ran up the mountain's steep height,
To catch the last glimpse of an object so dear!
And, when I no longer could keep her in sight,
I thought on her promise,....'In May I'll be here.'
Now gladly I mark from Plinlimmon's tall peak
The low-hanging vapours and clouds disappear,
And climb the rough mountain, thence Ellen to seek,
Repeating her promise....'In May I'll be here.'
But vainly I gaze the wide prospect around,
'T is May, yet no Ellen returning is near:
Oh, when shall I see her! when feel my heart bound,
As sweetly she cries, 'It is May, and I'm here!'
poem by Amelia Opie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Old Man River (I've Come To Talk Again)
Cool breeze on the river
Ripples to the shore
Wash away my troubles
To the sea forever more
Wind and willows whisper
Sadness is the sound
Tell the tale of my wants
Happy world that's falling down
Old man I might be going where you're bound
Chorus:
Old man river
I've come to talk again
Yes I know you're tired
Cause your journey never ends
He's just like you
He's moving all the time
And I think he's moving me out of his mind
I want to travel with you
In your deep and nimble soul
That's the only way to make it
Peaceful like before
We used to touch at midnight
But now I feel he's gone
Even though he's lying next to me I feel alone
Oh man it looks like I'm to travel alone
Repeat Chorus x2
song performed by by Reba Mcentire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Take My Hand
Take my hand
Cool is my head
Cool is the way to peak
Take my hand
Your footsteps, I'll take to peak
A top the mountain,
Flowers below us we'll see.
Take my hand
This ropy bridge is shaking
Below, the river twirls away
Below, I see a crocodile preying
In this river, with a laughing bottom
This river, the other side, beckoning
The wild fruits, so sweet is their juice.
Take my hand.
poem by Charles Jagongo Ogola
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Summer the best
Monthly cycles are for women.
Daily cycles are for men.
She is at peak in the midmonth
And he, at peak in the midnight.
Both have got their peak in summer.
Summer, not spring, must get credit.
07.12.200
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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!
South Gippsland In April
The leaves on the deciduous trees are turning brown
Yet in the Parks and gardens of Wonthaggi Town
The mynas are singing their songs tell of rain
And the frogs they are calling in the roadside drain.
Though into mid April and the Winter quite near
The weather quite warm for the time of year
On the beach at Cape Paterson the sun lovers lay
It may rain tomorrow but the sun shines today.
Only six weeks left of Autumn the time ticking on
And quite Summery weather though Summer is long gone
The old coastal hills overlooking the sea shore
Have seldom looked this dry or this brown before.
South Gippsland in April a fresh coastal breeze
In the woodland is soughing in the sunlit trees
Utopia on Earth the South Gippslanders say
That from where they live Heaven is not far away.
The birds in the Parkland they whistle and sing
It is more like weather in Summer or late Spring
The sun shining brightly but those brown hills nearby
A few hours of rain now would surely enjoy.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The First Rain of Monsoon
In the month of May
The Summer does sway
The first rain of Monsoon
The drizzling started very soon
The weather is so pleasing
In the evening
The breeze is blowing
the leaves are hovering
At the tender touch of rain drops
Rain is good for upcoming crops
The nature get rejuvenated
Spirit of living life elevated
Water in the form of rain
Never goes in vain
Whether India, England or Spain
People wish rain to come again
Pouring in the valleys, raining in the plain
The thirsty Earth values the rain
After the rain sky is clear
The shining leaves become dear
Listen to the music of nature
New melody of every creature
Flattering of the leaves together
Soft gargling sound of water
Enjoying the rain with pleasure
Writing poem on beauty of nature
Shashikant Nishant Sharma
{Written on 12 May,2012 on experiencing the soft touch of first drizzle of the Monsoon in Delhi. The weather was unforgettable and moments cherishable.}
poem by Shashikant Nishant Sharma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
On Hearing A Magpie Sing
The magpie sings in the bright sunshine of a humid and a warm day
Perhaps he is telling us something that rain is not that far away
For birds do sing in changing weather on a very warm day when birdsong you hear
You know there's a change in the weather that thundery weather is near.
Birds and animals are more sensitive to Nature than we are since nearer to Nature they live
They pollinate plants in their feeding from Nature they take and to her other things give
They are more Nature friendly than we are and on her resources less of a drain
The huge increase in the human population on Mother Nature does place a huge strain.
So little I know about Nature and so much of her I'd love to know
I fell in love with her as a schoolboy now that seems a long time ago
A wise old lady once did tell me that when out of Season the birds sing
That they detect a change in the weather Nature is a marvellous thing.
The magpie he sings in the sunshine on a warm day of thirty degrees
In his song he is trying to tell me that he senses the rain in the breeze
He can detect changes in Nature of her ways he knows far more than I
In his song he tells me that rain is not distant though there's not a rain cloud in the sky.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!