Love Aches
Have you ever craved the waves of flowers perfume
That float in the garden of roses under the moon sheen loom
They come and go whence no one knows at night gloom
As spring renewed his reign in colors and in splendor bloom
Thoughts of sadness wave and sail in my mind
They come and go leaving memories of pain and agony behind
Like that keen fragrance in the garden, born on the wings of soft wind
And yet none of the flow of thoughts is soft, soothing or kind
But in the instant the thoughts of air remain
To ignite the memory I knew of laughter and of joyful pain
Of times unlike now that will not come again.
The mountains of aching thoughts the earth under heavy clouds of rain
I try to catch and subdue my mind of these many tunes
Like tears of light fallen from the forlorn moon,
Flattened, scattered and bright on a dark lagoon,
Where high reeds lull and sway by echoing duns
But my mind is dissolved under such bare
My anguish floats away, I am too timid, for who can hold
The pain of Youth, the perfume of a flower or a moon so bold?
Where one can ask the strength to dare?
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Old Tunes
As the waves of perfume, heliotrope, rose,
Float in the garden when no wind blows,
Come to us, go from us, whence no one knows;
So the old tunes float in my mind,
And go from me leaving no trace behind,
Like fragrance borne on the hush of the wind.
But in the instant the airs remain
I know the laughter and the pain
Of times that will not come again.
I try to catch at many a tune
Like petals of light fallen from the moon,
Broken and bright on a dark lagoon,
But they float away -- for who can hold
Youth, or perfume or the moon's gold?
poem by Sara Teasdale
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Sonnet: Wait for God's Moment
Look! Hesperus isn't bright as it should be!
It shines with lesser sheen than day before;
The Moon is also less bright really;
Perhaps, the rain-clouds fill the Sky bit more.
But, 'tis not truly so; my mind's at fault;
Today, 'tis filled again with gloomy thoughts;
But what to do? my train of thoughts won't halt;
My sad moments look like the Starry dots.
Yet, Hesperus says, 'I'm always the same';
The Moon will also be full form again;
Our state of mind and outlook is to blame;
Be patient more; never try to complain.
God knows our hearts, travails, weaknesses all;
Wait for His moment; He will surely call.
poem by John Celes
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The Whispering Winds Of Hope...
The Whispering Winds of Hope
The Soothing Laughter of Rain
The Gentle Touch of The Sun
Can Begin to Help Heal Pain
The Bright Smiles of The Stars
The Brave Walk of The Moon
Even Muted Songs of The Night
Can Help To Hush The Gloom
So Listen To Your Heart
See With Your Mind’s Eye
Feel With Understanding
Even If You Have To Cry
Life Is Oh So Beautiful
Each Second A Precious Thing
Know Even In The Worst Sorrow
A Small Part Of You Can Dream
As The Wind Whispers of Hope
Believe Laughter of The Rain
Tomorrow Is Always A Brand New Day
Rebirth To Rejoice Again
On The Whispering Winds of Hope
And Soothing Laughter of The Rain
You Will Not Sleep Forevermore
GOD Held Me … and Explained
… The Bright Smiles of The Stars
The Brave Walk of The Moon
Are For Signs and Times … Our Visuals
Of What HE Can Do Soon
… Scent of Roses From My Window
Feel of Silk Upon My Bed
A Teardropp On My Cheek
And Brave Moonlight On My Head
The Whispering Winds of Hope
The Soothing Laughter of The Rain
When The Gentle Touch of The Son
Begins To Heal My Pain
Written & ©: 6/28/10
By: The MoonBee
poem by MoonBee Canady
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Memories
I remember my father’s garden
Roses grew in full bloom behind the maple tree
That has always been there, in my memory,
Its trunk seemed golden
Beneath the light of the moon and stars in the evening and
At dawn, it would capture the rays of the sun,
Turning copper beneath the shadows cast by the mountains;
I have always adored the nighttime hours-
The stars seemed magical to me, glistening within the darkness and
The moon brings me peace of mind, quietly sleeping,
As its gentle rays illuminated the sky, giving just enough light
So I could see the roses, trees and wildflowers that decorated my father’s garden.
My father passed away twenty years ago and
I can recall his love for nature and his passion for the silence of the evening hours-
So much like mine-so many memories have escaped me but
I can still hear his laughter ringing throughout the valley near our home,
And every time I look upward toward the moon at twilight,
I can nearly see his smile shining through its muted light-
As a gentle breeze would blow, rustling the leaves upon the trees-
It would remind me that my father’s soul is still alive-
I see his face in every rose and his hands grasping the branches on the trees-
And I have always believed that even though people die and
Though their bodies may never be seen again,
The love and recollection of their spirits remain
In the places that they so loved-
My father’s home was in his garden amongst the maple trees, roses and wildflowers, and
In my innermost thoughts, it is there where he remains- and
Every day and every night, when I walk amongst the trees and flowers
I can hear his voice calling my name and in my heart I know
He can still hear my voice and see my face, as in the light of the moon and stars-
We shall be bonded in spirit for an eternity.
Claudia Krizay
poem by Claudia Krizay
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Thoughts Mind Soul Echoes
thoughts like children
scatter from our mind
thoughts were part of us?
thoughts came from us?
thoughts live beyond us?
thoughts outlive our lives?
thoughts mind soul echoes
haunting fragments of mind
light shines through prisms
separates into colour bands
thought trails sunset colours
spectrum ribbons thoughts
spiral into keen conceptions
meaning insight discriminates
poem by Terence George Craddock
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The moon pale...
The moon pale and timid
In a bad of stars
Lie under,
The sheet of clouds.
Stand up.
Reflecting shyly.
The light on the sea.
Is a good night for dreaming?
Into the Soft mind
Dry, arid of thoughts
Dreams
Overpopulate
Hide design
By the night
When the time goes by.
Before the new day arrives.
poem by Luca Menin
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A sunset [ double Quintain (English and Sicilian) ]
While the red butterfly melts its wings
Within the light red poppy chain,
The pink gray cloud of the sunset rings
On the gray pink sky the light rays,
Seemingly thrown in a bloody pain.
The leaving sun abandons the sky
For a few hours and like crickets crawl,
The whispers of oak leaves mean good bye,
While the coming night is a dark haul,
Looking at the moon with a black eye.
The sun and the moon finds synergy,
Light becomes gray regolith of moon
With helium fusing energy,
Night makes moon looks like a big balloon
Or like swaddled in a big cocoon.
Much more, like thoughts enveloped in words
Or like souls carrying their divine love,
With feathers of light like Holy birds,
In the rain with drops of divine globes,
Falling down for giving love awards.
Like rain with drops of human spheres,
Pouring up to Him when they can hook
Or falling right down to disappear,
Reverse arch getting a killer look,
Trying to provide fragrance of fear.
Their waves are liquid and drain in sight
Of Earth to meet at infinity.
They are like dark rays in the pure light,
Light rays are arches for Trinity,
While dressed in wind seems to be the night.
Stars are candles and night lights them all,
The colors withdraw in the lost light.
In the black darkness they look so small.
The seeds of dream germinate for fight,
Becoming real for breaking their wall.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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Be The Garden Not The Gardener
the thoughts growing in your mind
are thorns
you are the one growing them in your mind
let no thought grow there
let yourself be not the grower of these thoughts they are the thorns
let your mind be just the garden
let Him spread the seeds and let these seeds grow like
some clouds seeded in the skies
let Him grow the thoughts in you
you see them
they are the red roses
because you are the garden
you are not the gardener
you have never been and you are never the good one
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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On the Face of the Moon
I feel your pain running deep,
By the light of the moon I see you weep,
Lost and lonely in a crowd,
You shout your thoughts out loud,
Is there nothing sacred on earth?
Is there no love without dirt?
Your heart is on the moon,
Craters filled with gloom,
To whom will you turn,
Loves ashes fill the urn,
Why, oh why, did I forget?
This is no time for regret,
I should have taken more time,
Your pain is greater than mine,
It's never too late, love can be great!
Love lost, need not be your fate!
Your heart is on the moon,
Craters filled with gloom,
To whom will you turn,
Loves ashes fill the urn,
They never meant to cause you pain,
Love lets them live their game,
We watch and learn about life,
There is no need for strife,
I'll wait for you on the face of the moon,
Stars shining bright, lift the gloom,
Your heart in the clouds,
Far from the crowds,
Eyes bright as stars,
Life might be better on Mars?
April 2012
poem by David Andre' Klopper
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Hope Did Not Die
It was a sad day
Lights dim
Moon without shine
Face dull
In deep gloom
As if dying
Darkness all around
Sorrow
In the turbulent mind
Thoughts
Came like waves
Why she has not come
Is everything fine?
When she will come
Was the question in mind?
But she did not come
The agony did not end
Life became worthless
But in some corner
Of the heart and mind
Hope did not die
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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Pain In Mind
The pain in her mind
Swallowed her thoughts
Drowned her heart in sorrow.
The darkness was her home
Where she went ti hide
From herself,
From the world.
It was her hiding place
Her place for serenity,
Where she found her only peace
Her only tranquility.
The pain was all she had,
In the world,
Where she was the only one
She was alone.
Her thoughts kept her alert
In her darkness
She knew she was alone,
Yet her past was still there to haunt her.
The she saw,
The life she watched leave,
The past was all there,
Her memories poisened.
The past would never leave her mind
It would never let her sleep in peace
It would always be there,
To remenid her of the pain.
The pain in her mind
swallowed her thoughts
Drowned her heart in sorrow,
It consumed her sould.
poem by Bethany Maxwell
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Let my heart pour like rain
Let me pen my thoughts fast
Before I dip the nib in the muck
Raw emotions, they so little last
Hold them before the day gets me stuck.
Let me pour my thoughts out
Before the day kills my mind
The clouds cast shadow of doubt
They are lost to be never again found.
Let my heart pour like rain
Before the heat drives me insane
I lose them all in the agony of pain
And left with only a smoked windowpane!
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
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A Mentor
From this day on
You inspired me to be a poet,
Here I unleashed my thoughts.
They rang bravely
Predestined to be
Hemmed like a woven cloth.
You and I like a seed,
Scattered to bloom
Like the lily in the field,
To be the strength of
A divided world.
Some will catch us
And will enjoy our petals
To be looked at,
Or admired
Or be tossed back again
In the wind,
And will float in the river,
Valleys and oceans.
But the important thing is
Your thoughts have inspired somebody.
Until once again
A youth will come to his senses
He will pass by
And need a mentor
To be inspired
By a man who will
Create strong courage in his young mind.
poem by Tess Rockenstire
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My Obsession
I often think if I could find
a way to clear and subdue my mind,
I'd wish away all the thoughts that tear
into my heart. They're too hard to bear.
But it seems I have no power I possess
and so I'm compelled to always obsess
over my thoughts of you.
You, who show you are unaware
of how my mind cannot compare
the light of day with dark of night
or the feeling of bliss with dreadful fright
over my thoughts of you.
Though I've loved you more than life
coldness cuts me like a knife.
So with my mind unclear I say
I must keep my obsession of you at bay.
Easy to say, hard to do
for all I think about is you.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Your Thoughts
your thoughts
are keys
to the locks of my
doors that i closed
a long time
ago
you open them
one by one
and give life at once
to the dusty floors
your thoughts
make mine open to the wind
to the sun
i could have been
a broken house until your
thoughts
came like hammers
and saws
now i have a garden of flowers too
roses bloom
because of you
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Storm
Look out of the window.
The nature seems to have turned into a mirror of my mind.
The clouds have taken over the sky.
They are like the disturbing thoughts of my mind,
Want to burst out in pain.
As it gets a shape of a thundering storm,
The downpour is not just rain, my dear,
But, my tears.
It may cool down the earth,
Not sure, if my mind.
poem by Kingshuk Chakraborty
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Oh mother nature
Oh mother nature, how you stand so proud as the statue of liberty
And as weak as it meaning
In emotional poverty, I still have faith in you, and faith is above all reasoning
You stand your ground but that wraith you knew, is bound to come
beware your strength is weakening
You used to be so strong, bound to harm
Here he comes, you set out screaming
Your eyes's failing you, sound you were, so demeaning
Your face has scars of time, open wounds you bare
Thoughts swallowed by crime as if met by a sudden spring cleaning
Who made your legs tremble, and your thoughts flee as your mind dissembles
Was it father earth, so sour, he your beauty devour'd?
Or Was it the big bad wolves feeding on your mind before it you got to assemble
Were you so kind you were not overthrown by a raging sea, not even a mild lour
I choose to blame the sky above,
See how it falls like shooting stars,
And your mind is completely free and your face full of scars
We, the humans, are going to the moon! When? ! Soon…
lie back and sink your heavy shoulders into an empty bed sleep tight..
I shall be outside where the roof is much colder guarding you till noon with the utmost delight
from whom?
From the big bad wolves, innocent blood willing to shed, I can feel them dragging me into my rightful tomb
Oh dark thoughts how they bloom, as we kneel into an earthy bed.
Oh mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head! ! !
My Walking Thoughts
In my long search for what my hearts longs for,
The wind did saw me and my agony,
Flooded with tears of something not found,
In this incompletion of my life,
So shall my heart look to the stars,
The hope that nature will do wonders,
My walking thoughts keep the search
Im haunted by the memories every night,
My sheets become so cold,
In that shivering moment Im at unrest,
Outside the window are unusual winds,
I know where im at peace,
My thoughts searched and found none,
Walking and walking, remain my thoughts
Walking up and down are my thoughts,
So unfocused like the phantoms,
Searching your presence my love,
Which I know is ever absent
My despair extends my pain,
My walking thoughts so futile,
Searching but to no avail,
Such is my love, seeking yours
poem by Gaylord Munemo
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The Fantasy of Spring
The night that I'm not sleeping,
I listen carefully bloom the sound of flower
anywhere
I watch nameless the birds without speaking that is flying the night sky like the fantasy of spring
Simultaneously I soothe anxiety of the dark
I move lazy mind and hurry heavy my step
and then I go up the hill of busting spring flowers
I see shining brightly the moon and be in raptures of happiness of the scenery
At the same time I indulge in bare the skin of spring night
Deep longing have a long drawn out illness and bloom to be Azalea
and deep red patal receive moon night so reincarnation
and it listen the step sound of wind
Oriental selection
Bare winter branches
beneath the moon wreathed in mist.
Seem to bloom again.
Echoes of memories foresee
future in the past.
In the soft moonlight
blossoms from the cherry tree
Scattered on the ground.
purpose served, hey leave the stage
Autumn will grant them honour.
Sharp edged shadows cast
by the brilliant winter moon
on the earth below.
Poetry written on the snow
only lovers understand
The wind stirs the reeds
making music by moonlight.
Plaintive melodies
the wind needs no audience.
the moon listens silently.
The moon my lantern
the scent of blossom lingers
The moon lights my way
I walk beside the water
yesterday is gone.
Sun sets, moon rises
constant repetition
She follows her lord
Night without moonlight
restless spirits walk abroad
seeking solace.
Moonlight soothes my soul
as I meditate alone.
Trees whisper to me.
A pond holds the moon
why should the mind of man do less
achieving stillness
Gently moonlight falls
like silver rain silently
lotus blossom sing.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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