Hark, It's Green!
Few evenings before
It's all dry branches
I even counted them
As a doctor while reading an x-ray
The koel too settled uneasily on them
The next morning
I could recognize though hazily
Small dots of green
The koel pecking at
Lo, the following morning
The denuded tree
Through my window
Turned green overnight!
What more,
It now also has a sack of honey bees
Securely clinging to it
The incessant cooing
Lightening the drab campus
And filling my ears
Now, today when my inadvertent eyes
Lifted up, they felt confused
As if looking at a queer object
The alphabet is too inadequate
To paint that unique green
In richness of its colour!
There, do you hear
The merry cooing, my friend…?
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Related quotes
From A Train
Green and green; and evergreen
in my all, and scurrying
in flickered films
of glimpses, painted green...
and a car in the lane silently shimmers,
as I hear the morning swaying past trees that,
green over green,
silently guard the wet summer sadness,
where cattle stare at the hopping rooks
and do not know
of the things that have been...
or care.
Cloudly and bright:
passing the green.
Where, in my remembrance of once long ago,
I felt the mist
rising unseen from the grass
that was green between green
when we kissed.
So I hum a small phrase
that carries my thoughts
ever and onwards,
listlessly flowing
like the world that is passing
the window beside me
all behind all, so totally green
and all in my knowing
and all in my all
and all in my green.
poem by Peter Jones
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Spring Song
dirge of fallen leaves
under my feet tickle my toes
tender green smiles
a koel
perched on
a dessicated tree
cooes lullabys
to fledgelings in the nest
dry branches camouflaged
weary traveller
looks up in hope
through the dry branches...
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Green, green and green
I want a holiday with a scene
Of green, green and green
A summer of green trees
A landscape of green grass
A view full of green vegetables
The colour green
Is a beauty that must be seen!
From a moving vehicles screen
And while we hold onto those machines
That deprives us of the colour green
Remember they provide us vaccines
As well as help the air to be clean
So for green, green and green
I will travel continents across and in-between
And also to any place that I have never been
I will make it routine
Just to see green, green and green
Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Hey...spring Again!
the veil of fog
gets thinner and thinner
the seasonal flowers
lose their color
as the sun's chariot
gets rolled as it should
the koel fills the ears
with its cooing fed on
the tender mango-flower
that renders more sweetness
to a voice already sweeter
every vegetation begins to breathe
resurrecting life once again
after sluggish winter
birds chirp
bees buzz
hearts long
as spring slowly unfolds
its drama of desire
once again...!
21feb2010
11.32hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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The Light Through The Morning Window
THE LIGHT THROUGH THE MORNING WINDOW
The light through the morning window
The small leaves of the light green tree
The pale sky waiting behind everything
The night which is gone now.
All these failures one after the other,
Other names other destinies, greater than mine
The single singing I cannot hear
The great prophecies I will not realize.
Others who are more to me
Even than I am to myself.
The morning
The morning again
Words again
Trying to live again
A poem again perhaps.
In a life of many days
In which each small day
Its own struggle
And each night
A night which ends
With morning light.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Rim Of Green
Green panties, green roses
green tits, green milk.
Green moon, posies in green.
green eyes, green full lips
green face, cheese, green..
Green around the rim,
green limes can but erupt...?
poem by Is It Poetry
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Green and blue
Green and blue
First-named of colours believe these two.
They first of colours by men were seen
This grass colour, tree colour,
Sky colour, sea colour,
Magic-named, mystic-souled, blue and green.
Later came
Small subtle colours like tongues of flame,
Small jewel colours for treasure trove,
Not fruit colour, flower colour,
Cloud colour, shower colour,
But purple, amethyst, violet and mauve.
These remain,
Two broad fair colours for our larger gain
Stretched underfoot or spreading wide on high,
Green beech colour, vine colour,
Gum colour, pine colour,
Blue of the noonday and the moonlit sky.
poem by Lesbia Harford
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GREEN, A Litany
green in the midst of drab desolation
green ‘til the tide in the street overflows
green that preserves green's green reputation
green behind curtains, like cellist & bow
green on occasions no green is permissible
green by inversion a negative flame
green in final disgrace & dismissal
green where the gravedigger shoulders his spade
green like the walls of Verlaine's Belgium prison
green woods, wolf & poet meeting on equal foot
green like embroidery on old smoking-jackets
covered with needlepoint dragons & soot
green like a murderer gone to the guillotine
green like the lawns of this land breaking through
our windows in herbicide frenzy to taunt us
green like the tarnish on brass tiger shoes
green the result of choice or of chance
green when the famished, the hopeful despair
green that we have no hope of outguessing
green for which always we must be prepared
poem by Jay Mandeville
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Green, Green, and More Green
There is green everywhere,
even in peoples' hair.Some
on hands, some on shirts.
There is green everywhere!
Green, green, and more green.
I think I'm going crazy over green.
If you don't wear green you get pinched,
then you'll start to itch.
So many people are obsessed with green.
Green Spring, green air.Green feet, green wheat, green meat.
Green isn't very neat!
poem by Autumn Howard
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Monroe Louisiana
On the green, green farm
In green, green Monroe Louisiana
So green, green
Wet-luscious green and alive
So green after the rain
So bright green and clean
Just passing through
On my way to tomorrow
But so green today and yesterday
It was on that stranger's green, green farm
And I didn't stay long
And I didn't expect someone
To fire that shotgun right next to me
The barrel pointed out the front door
Into that green, green world beyond.
There were hot springs
On the green, green farm
In green, green Monroe Louisiana
Back in 1973.
poem by M.L. Squier
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Shell-Music
YOU with the shell to your ear,
What do you hear,
Slim and so white
In the moonlight?
'Oh, I hear surging and shouting and singing,
The sea-folk at market — their little bells ringing,
The tall weeds about them, the green world above!
Oh, blithe are the pedlars of ribbons and laces,
Yet blither and sweeter upon the wide spaces
The footfalls of Love!'
You with the shell to your ear,
What do you hear,
Waves at your feet,
White and so sweet?
'Oh, I hear cooing and kissing and cooing,
The sound of sea-folk in their coral groves wooing,
The red branches round them, the green world above!
Oh, sweet are the songs of the witching sea-daughters,
But sweeter, far sweeter, upon the wide waters,
The footfalls of Love!'
You with the shell to your ear,
What do you hear,
Large eyes aglow,
Forehead of snow?
'Oh, I hear shouting and sobbing and sighing,
The sounds of the sea-folk in battle-rage vieing,
The torn weeds about them, the green world above!
The merman may shout as he stumbles and slaughters,
But, ever and ever, I hear on the waters
The footfalls of Love!'
You with the shell to your ear,
What do you hear,
As you stand there,
Pale and so fair?
'Oh, as frost on the seaways the foam-spaces glisten;
My heart is the shell, to its echoes I listen;
Red petals, rose petals around and above!
Oh sweeter, far sweeter, than little bells ringing
Or market-men shouting, or mermaidens singing,
The footfalls of Love!'
poem by Roderic Quinn
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The Green Dot
A green dot was wandering one day,
Where is its spot, where it can lay! ,
It delayed its arrival,
And all the green is now gone,
The green dot is wandering searching,
Goofing the streets under rain and thunder,
It moves fast and slow, gradual run,
From the shore, to the bays,
When it was deceived by the beauty of trees,
What beauty can it see, but she wasn’t comfee,
Because it wasn’t that green,
What green it could be?
What green does it belong?
It don’t know, but the search seemed to be long,
Oh! Lil green dot, lil green dot,
What is this mess all about?
The lil green dot missed its way,
And now it dun no where to stay,
Where are the other green, where is its stain?
Forever the search, Forever it will feel the pain,
To be away from the other green dots.
poem by Mustafa Ghuneim
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One for Sorrow; Two for Joy
Good morning Mr Magpie
alone again, like me
I greet you then I bless myself
and hope that I shall see
your lady busy in the trees
up here in Jagger Green.
The wind is soft and urgent
on the pale green Yorkshire hills
rooks fuss in high bare branches
looking down on silent mills
and the magpie is a single bird
up here in Jagger Green.
I watched him as he rested
in the Mayday morning light
then hard and low and straight there came
another flash of black and white
and the sun is like a woman's kiss
up here in Jagger Green.
poem by Hugh Mitchell
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M.S.Subbulakshmi, The Singer
She was born as a koel,
Brought up among nightingales;
She excelled all nightingales,
And died as if a nightingale,
With no koel there to mourn.
I wish I would die among my folks.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Land Is Green
The land is green
It is just green
Do not see any other colour
That will make you not to cultivate
The land is green
It must be green
Avoid the deceit of the unpatriotic
They have only their interest at heart
The land is green
It will remain green
Speak not with the double minded.
Nothing positive will come from them
The land is green
For our crops to grow
For our next generation to feed
Our land is meant to be green
poem by Chika Ogbonna
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The Green Thicket
All in a green thicket I heard a bird sing,
And blithe though his song was it made the tears spring,
To hear a bird sing as he swung on his spray,
All in a green thicket at break of the day.
All in a green thicket his song it did pour
That told of the Springs that shall come nevermore,
That sang of sweet blossoms, now faded and dry,
All in a green thicket in Aprils gone by.
All in a green thicket that morning in Spring,
I smelt the sharp scent of each young growing thing,
I smelt the sweet herbage all drowned with the dew,
And the time that's gone from me was with me anew.
All in a green thicket at break of the day
It was like the dear voice of a friend far away,
It was like the kind touch of a hand that I know,
And the smile and the tears of dead Aprils ago,
All in a green thicket one morning in Spring,
For to smell the young woodland and hear the bird sing,
Oh, long did I loiter and dream by the way,
All in a green thicket at break of the day.
poem by Cicely Fox Smith
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The winter is coming
The cat tells me
that its time for its food
and outside bees
still fly past in a swarm
and I realise that it’s late afternoon,
that the shadows are drawing long lines,
the wind rustles through the tree branches
and it’s already almost cold
as the winter is coming.
Still there’s something in the late autumn
that catches me
where here and there leaves
hang like dots on tree branches,
that the sun sometimes still gives hot rays
as if it does not really want
the cold to come
and the grass is still green
like in the summer.
poem by Gert Strydom
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I had to forsake the world of my childhood
The cat tells me
that its time for its food
and outside bees
still fly past in a swarm
and I realise that it’s late afternoon,
that the shadows are drawing long lines,
the wind rustles through the tree branches
and it’s already almost cold
as the winter is coming.
Still there’s something in the late autumn
that catches me
where here and there leaves
hang like dots on tree branches,
that the sun sometimes still gives hot rays
as if it does not really want
the cold to come
and the grass is still green
like in the summer.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Green Eyes
got green eyes
as green as grass
on mama's lawn
got green eyes
over greener pastures
on the other fence
got green eyes
baby over your green eyes
when i stay
and you leave me
when you tell me
it is over
got green eyes
as green as
broccoli & lettuce
for my salad
that i serve
and share with my
newly found lover
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Colors to Notice
While on morning walk today,
Thought emerges to describe the color
Of Mumbai sky, but can’t get the correct word:
It is aluminum-like, light gray,
Same wherever on the entire irregular patch
Of sky in Bandra, I am allowed to see through
Hedged in by trees, buildings and roofs.
As the eyes sweep down, the colors
Around me attract: green, blue,
Black, yellow, red BEST bus, the objects reflecting
There is no end to my counting:
In green alone I can see
Seventeen different shades.
Once I start enjoying the difference
Between one green and another
Luxuriant, shiny or dark,
Light-green, or parrot or bluish green
Or green seen against sunlight from below
Or with sunlight falling on the green leaves, -
In between remembering the sea-green incorruptible
Of Carlyle in his French Revolution
Or Lady Macbeth’s seas before becoming
Incarnadined -
Greens stretch unending in mind, and around,
Till suddenly the purple morning glory in front
Mocks me: while the special dark pink, above
Of bougainvillea blushes silently at stupid man
Who shows off his reading to Nature,
And makes up by waving and dancing gently.
Colors of Life and Nature are around me
Anywhere anytime:
I love them, including
Different black shadows in the dark.
poem by Daniel Trevelyn Joseph
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