Tribute to Wm Wordsworth
It is a beauteous evening calm and free.
The holy time as quiet as a nun
Breathless with adoration, the broad sun
is sinking down in its tranquillity
William Wordsworth.
A Glosa
It is a beauteous evening calm and free.
I stroll along the sandy shore
my evening walk is leisurely.
I am content could ask no more.
The holy time as quiet as a Nun.
obedient to her orders vows.
Blue twilight falls as day is done.
Day slips away no need for bows.
Breathless in adoration the broad sun
surrenders to a greater force.
Which bids him that he must be gone
now he has run his daily course.
I s sinking in its tranquillity
something the sun is glad to do
Accepting with surety
tomorrow he will rise anew.
7-Feb-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Evening on Calais Beach
IT is a beauteous evening, calm and free,
The holy time is quiet as a Nun
Breathless with adoration; the broad sun
Is sinking down in its tranquillity;
The gentleness of heaven broods o'er the sea:
Listen! the mighty Being is awake,
And doth with his eternal motion make
A sound like thunder--everlastingly.
Dear Child! dear Girl! that walkest with me here,
If thou appear untouch'd by solemn thought,
Thy nature is not therefore less divine:
Thou liest in Abraham's bosom all the year;
And worshipp'st at the Temple's inner shrine,
God being with thee when we know it not.
poem by William Wordsworth
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It Is a Beauteous Evening
It is a beauteous evening, calm and free,
The holy time is quiet as a nun
Breathless with adoration; the broad sun
Is sinking down in its tranquility;
The gentleness of heaven broods o'er the sea:
Listen! the mighty Being is awake,
And doth with his eternal motion make
A sound like thunder - everlastingly.
Dear Child! dear Girl! that walkest with me here,
If thou appear untouched by solemn thought,
Thy nature is not therefore less divine:
Thou liest in Abraham's bosom all the year,
And worship'st at the Temple's inner shrine,
God being with thee when we know it not.
poem by William Wordsworth
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The Poem Of The Evening Is A Quiet Poem
THE POEM OF THE EVENING IS A QUIET POEM
The poem of the evening is a quiet poem
It comes in gentleness with tired eyes
It does not know how long it will last
It believes a fresh breeze
And a simple song
Are all its needs
To feel happiness.
The poem of the evening this evening
Believes in life
Believes in Goodness of God
Believes it will somehow be alright.
The poem of the evening this evening
May be a foolish one
But it is a quietly happy one.
We need such poems sometimes
For life is hard in the long working days
And in the times of difficult idleness
When no dreams come.
Quiet and quiet
Soft as sleep
The poem of the evening this evening
Is a gentle one.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
a squirrel runs across
frosty evening on a plain
of white carrying a cosy
warmth i would love to have
light greyish coat impeecably
patched and stitched for the season
time runs across space
mindless as a clock which
has forgotten to crawl
everywhere the trees
gently whisper sweet nothings
and cavort away the evening
baring skeletons and bones (or heart and soul)
to the heavens to swear their love
snow falls like mannas
onto a million stretched hands
that grovel to receive every
trace of divine providence
breathless, breathless
the white glides and bounces
in an evening that holds onto
everything like forgotten time
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Day At Rest
The sun is setting slowly in the west,
to put another day at rest.
The moon now rises from the east,
as stillness drifts through our world,
and heads rest in sleep.
The quiet of the night, comes for us all,
as darkness comes to call.
There are some of us,
who welcome the quiet bliss,
the lovers embraced,
in each other’s arms,
ready to steal a kiss.
The writer who needs,
the evening tranquillity,
to forward on their thoughts,
with nothing to disturb.
So we put the day at rest,
until tomorrow comes to call.
13 May 2007
poem by David Harris
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Calm Is Who I Am Now
CALM IS WHO I AM NOW
Calm is who I am now
Calm and quiet-
I have done
What I could do-
The rest is repetition-
Slowly slowly
Time is taking me away-
How long I do not know-
How much pain I do not know-
Calm is who I am now -
Quiet quiet
Before the fears return again
And the anxiety over what I have not done-
Calm is who I am now
In these moments at this hour
Four in the morning
A small part of the long day to come.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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A Sigh
Evening sunshine never
Solace to my window bears,
Morning sunshine elsewhere fares;-
Here are shadows ever.
Sunshine freely falling,
Wilt thou not my chamber find?
Here some rays would reach a mind,
'Mid the dark appalling.
Morning sunshine's gladness,
Oh, thou art my childhood bright;
While
thou
playest pure and white,
I
would weep in sadness.
Evening sunshine's whiling,
Oh, thou art the wise man's rest;-
Farther on! Then from the west
Greet my window smiling!
Morning sunshine's singing,
Oh, thou art the fantasy
That the sun-glad world lifts free,
Past my powers' winging.
Evening sunshine's quiet,
Thou art more than wisdom's rest,
Christian faith glows in thee blest:
Calm my soul's wild riot!
poem by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
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Evening Star
I travelled to a distant shore
I felt I had to go
An inner voice had called me there
But why I did not know
I saw the evening star rise up
Shining out to sea
And now I understand at last what it means
What it all means
Evening star I can see the light
Evening star guiding me so bright
I used to tempt fate
I couldnt see straight
I faltered through my younger days
Never knowing where I was going
Then something helped me penetrate the haze
Evening star I can see the light
Evening star guiding me so bright
Now I am stronger
The haze no longer
Ruins my future destiny
Such inspirations and new sensations
Pull up these string ties chasing me
Evening star I can see the light
Evening star guiding me so bright
Im home once more, much better for
The things that I have found
Much wiser now, so simple how
Each time I turn around
I see the evening star rise up
Shining out on me
And now I understand at last what it means
What it all means
Evening star I can see the light
Evening star guiding me so bright
song performed by by Judas Priest
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Christmas (Tuckerman sonnet)
(after A. E. Housman)
Home are the soldiers, they are home and free,
they are home from the far off battlefield
never to a man’s will again to yield
home with loved ones, some friends to see.
Home is the farmer from the working field
where many acres of land lies prepared,
he is at the place where he wants to be
safe under God’s almighty constant shield
free from all kinds of dark iniquity
tranquillity is in the open veldt,
the evening falls, twilight is at hand,
with his cattle all having being cared
and soldier’s dance with a happy band,
close the farmer’s wife is being held
[Reference: XXII “Home is the sailor, home from sea” by A. E. Housman.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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My Poem Came To Me In The Evening
MY POEM CAME TO ME IN THE EVENING/ AFTER THE RAIN AND EVENING PRAYER
My poem came to me in the evening
After the rain and evening prayer
When the sky opened up
For a moon and a star
And the winds diminished
And walking became a pure pleasure
And looking up a simple calm
Joy-
God giving me
Another gift
In a life in which there already have been so so many.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Summer Is Here
I hear the sounds of children at play,
as the sun has turned
the black clouds of rain away.
Summer is here
and laughter fills the air,
flowers fill the gardens
with colour everywhere.
After a hard days work
you feel free,
some will sit the evening out
eyes glued to the TV.
Not for me the little box,
rather an evening stroll.
Then sit to rest
my weary bones somewhere,
letting the cool evening breeze
dance with my hair.
As I sit quietly
absorbing all around.
Watching the sun
sink slowly in the west.
Breathing in the cool evening air,
as night begins to call.
11 June 2007
poem by David Harris
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African Evening
'Isn't this nice? ' the lioness said,
'A summer breeze and day near dead
And crystal clear enough to search,
To hunt again, if I've the urge.
Of course, I might just have a snooze...
For now, I'm fine, nothing to lose.
No cubs to crush this quiet time...
The day's gone well, in fact, sublime.
So belly down and front paws stretched,
To watch the sky this day has sketched...
To gaze serenely without cares
And look at clouds pass by in pairs.
Life's not so bad, still lots to learn.
I'll find a mate, when it's my turn.
There's no rush yet - this year, next year.
I'm quite content just lying here...
I've got no stomach pains today -
No cause to kill or hunt new prey.
No need to see death haunt the eyes
As suddenly my next meal dies...
For now, it's peaceful as can be -
There's no sign here of misery...
There's just the sun... and clouds above...
And, somehow, these things seem enough.
No thirst have I, as evening calls,
No lions here, no evening brawls,
No lions roaring back and forth,
Just nothing south, east, west and north.
This land is mine and mine alone -
A greater peace I've never known.
I'm getting sleepy in this sun,
Yet glad to know my work is done.
So sleep it is... just lying down...
To rest again, take off the crown,
To put aside one's majesty...
To savour life, as one born free...'
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'African Evening'.
poem by Denis Martindale
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Im So Free
Yes I am a natures son and Im the only one
I do what I want and I want what I see
You know it happens to me
Im so free, Im so free
Oh please aint your man
I have come this way
Do you remember the shape I was in
I had horns that bent
Im so free, Im so free
Do you remember the silver walks
You used to shiver and I used to talk
Then we went down to times square
And in the center been hangin round there
Im so free, Im so free
Yes I am mother natures son and Im the only one
I do what I want and I want what I see
Could only happens to me
Im so free, Im so free
Oh, Im so free oh, Im so free oh, Im so free
In the morining Im so free
In the evening Im so free
Yeah yeah yeah Im so free
When I feel good Im so free
When its in the morining Im so free
When its in the evening Im so free
Im so free, Im so free, Im so free, Im so free
Feels so good now, Im so free, oh, Im so free
Feels so good now, Im so free, oh, Im so free, ......
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When That Evening Sun Goes Down
I want you, be around
When that evening sun goes down
I want you, be around
Keep my both feet on the ground
When that evening sun goes down
I want you, understand
Little girl, take me by my hand
I want you, understand
I wanna be your loving man
When that evening sun goes down
If its nice, well go for a walk, a stroll in the clear moonlight
Singing a song, wont take long
Everything gonna be alright
And I wanna hold you oh so near
Keep you, darling from all fear
I wanna hold you oh so near
Nibble on your little ear
When that evening sun goes down
If its nice, go for a walk, stroll in the clear moonlight
Sing you a song, wont take long
Everything gonna be alright
And I wanna hold you oh so near
Keep you, darling from all fear
I wanna hold you oh so near
Nibble on your little ear
When that evening sun goes down
When that evening sun goes down
When that evening sun goes down...
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Evening Coconut
The statue of liberty is breathing in the air
Atlantis is waiting down below.
Late at night, flashing lights are sighted in the air.
Its no secret, what everybody knows.
It really dont matter much, which way I go.
But remember to pull over in the storm.
Have you seen the evening coconut
Bobbing on the bay?
Standing on the waters edge of stone
Someone there besides you
To hear the words you say
To show you things your eyes have never known.
Evening coconut, evening coconut
Evening coconut, evening coconut
Evening coconut, evening coconut
Evening coconut, evening coconut
Evening coconut, evening coconut
The statue of liberty is breathing in the air
While atlantis is waiting down below.
Late at night, flashing lights are sighted in the air.
Its no secret, what everybody knows.
Evening coconut, evening coconut
Evening coconut, evening coconut
Evening coconut, evening coconut
Evening coconut, evening coconut
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Dreary Change {The sun upon the Weirdlaw Hill}
The sun upon the Weirdlaw Hill,
In Ettrick's vale, is sinking sweet;
The westland wind is hush and still,
The lake lies sleeping at my feet.
Yet not the landscape to mine eye
Bears those bright hues that once it bore;
Though evening, with her richest dye,
Flames o'er the hills of Ettrick's shore.
With listless look along the plain,
I see Tweed's silver current glide,
And coldly mark the holy fane
Of Melrose rise in ruin'd pride.
The quiet lake, the balmy air,
The hill, the stream, the tower, the tree,-—
Are they still such as once they were?
Or is the dreary change in me?
Alas, the warp'd and broken board,
How can it bear the painter's dye!
The harp of strain'd and tuneless chord,
How to the minstrel's skill reply!
To aching eyes each landscape lowers,
To feverish pulse each gale blows chill;
And Araby's or Eden's bowers
Were barren as this moorland hill.
poem by Sir Walter Scott
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The Bliss Of Absence
DRINK, oh youth, joy's purest ray
From thy loved one's eyes all day,
And her image paint at night!
Better rule no lover knows,
Yet true rapture greater grows,
When far sever'd from her sight.
Powers eternal, distance, time,
Like the might of stars sublime,
Gently rock the blood to rest,
O'er my senses softness steals,
Yet my bosom lighter feels,
And I daily am more blest.
Though I can forget her ne'er,
Yet my mind is free from care,
I can calmly live and move;
Unperceived infatuation
Longing turns to adoration,
Turns to reverence my love.
Ne'er can cloud, however light,
Float in ether's regions bright,
When drawn upwards by the sun,
As my heart in rapturous calm.
Free from envy and alarm,
Ever love I her alone!
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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Waiting
Waiting
sitting in silence
finding things to do
on this normal, quiet evening.
rustling papers
and tapping keyboard,
with one eye on the phone
waiting for disaster
to ring through my complacency.
I can almost see
the sterile walls, the contained chaos
as hurried doctors and nurses
bring relief to the battle-weary
binding the hundred wounds
of collision and anger,
cancer and a failing heart.
I can almost, but not quite, hear
The IV pumps, heart monitors,
crash-carts clattering down
shining halls, carrying the artillery
we aim at the enemy.
But right now,
right here
all is quiet;
the cat mews patiently
for her evening meal
as I watch for the phone
to light up
and give me the news
that will shatter
this quiet evening.
poem by Steven Federle
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Tuesday Evening
AN EVENING
AFTER MONDAY
IS ALDO KRASS'
FAVORITE EVENING
IT IS TUESDAY
EVENING AND
IT IS NOT A BUSY
EVENING AND
ALDO LIKES IT
TO BE NOT
A BUSY EVENING
WITH HIS JULIET
AFTER WINTER
AND SPRING
IT WILL BE SUMMER
ON A TUESDAY
EVENING AND
IT WILL BE A LOVELY
EVENING
ALONE PERHAPS
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Farewell
For the last time, maybe, upon the knoll
I stand. The eve is golden, languid, sad.
Day like a tragic actor plays his role
To the last whispered word and falls gold-clad.
I, too, take leave of all I ever had.
They shall not say I went with heavy heart:
Heavy I am, but soon I shall be free,
I love them all, but oh I now depart
A little sadly, strangely, fearfully,
As one who goes to try a mystery.
The bell is sounding down in Dedham vale:
Be still, O bell: too often standing here
When all the air was tremulous, fine and pale,
Thy golden note so calm, so still, so clear,
Out of my stony heart has struck a tear.
And now tears are not mine. I have release
From all the former and the later pain,
Like the mid sea I rock in boundless peace
Soothed by the charity of the deep-sea rain….
Calm rain! Calm sea! Calm found, long sought in vain!
O bronzen pines, evening of gold and blue,
Steep mellow slope, brimmed twilit pools below,
Hushed trees, still vale dissolving in the dew,
Farewell. Farewell. There is no more to do.
We have been happy. Happy now I go.
poem by Robert Nichols
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