Hidden Hearts
Imagine yourself in a woodland scene
by the verge of an old winding lane;
and circled around islands of green,
oceans of leaves rustling in waves.
Picture the beech and the sitka spruce
reaching through shade to the dizzying sky,
with beams of sunshine lighting the broom,
and hardly a sound when the wood pigeons fly
Ahead in the distance, through shadow and shine,
glints the White Loch’s shimmering blues,
a border of waves beyond chestnut and pine
and above it the castle in ruins.
A puzzle in brick from the second world war
catches the eye and confuses the brain.
It sits by the lane and tempts some to stop
where mostly these days serenity reigns;
except in the hearts unburdened down here
by youth when love was a furious blaze.
Etched in the bark of some ancient trees:
initials of lovers in happier days -
consigned to the trust of a living page.
Under the spell of some primitive urge -
something so deep that it had to be shared -
They told all the world they’d been captured by love.
Their carvings remind me when wandering here
of moments when feelings flowed fresh and pure
of times when it seemed there was nothing to fear.
It’s the unbroken thread of promise and truth
in the weaving of wonder, light and life:
we reach through shade to dizzying heights
for beams of sunlight to show the way through,
and blown on the winds that carry the leaves
we dream beyond the shimmering blue.
Related quotes
A Japanese Wood-Carving
High up above the open, welcoming door
It hangs, a piece of wood with colours dim.
Once, long ago, it was a waving tree
And knew the sun and shadow through the leaves
Of forest trees, in a thick eastern wood.
The winter snows had bent its branches down,
The spring had swelled its buds with coming flowers,
Summer had run like fire through its veins,
While autumn pelted it with chestnut burrs,
And strewed the leafy ground with acorn cups.
Dark midnight storms had roared and crashed among
Its branches, breaking here and there a limb;
But every now and then broad sunlit days
Lovingly lingered, caught among the leaves.
Yes, it had known all this, and yet to us
It does not speak of mossy forest ways,
Of whispering pine trees or the shimmering birch;
But of quick winds, and the salt, stinging sea!
An artist once, with patient, careful knife,
Had fashioned it like to the untamed sea.
Here waves uprear themselves, their tops blown back
By the gay, sunny wind, which whips the blue
And breaks it into gleams and sparks of light.
Among the flashing waves are two white birds
Which swoop, and soar, and scream for very joy
At the wild sport. Now diving quickly in,
Questing some glistening fish. Now flying up,
Their dripping feathers shining in the sun,
While the wet drops like little glints of light,
Fall pattering backward to the parent sea.
Gliding along the green and foam-flecked hollows,
Or skimming some white crest about to break,
The spirits of the sky deigning to stoop
And play with ocean in a summer mood.
Hanging above the high, wide open door,
It brings to us in quiet, firelit room,
The freedom of the earth's vast solitudes,
Where heaping, sunny waves tumble and roll,
And seabirds scream in wanton happiness.
poem by Amy Lowell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In The Shade Of The Green Wood
In the shade of the green wood
The holly does grow,
While in soft rays of sunlight
The wild roses glow,
And I smell their sweet perfume
That gently floats by,
Past trees strong and mighty
That reach to the sky,
The pathway of gold autumn
Leaves still remain,
As I walk through the green wood again.
In the shade of the green wood
This bright sunny morn,
That's so cool in the shadows
A new day is born,
All the birds in the treetops
Are singing for me,
Sweet songs of the summer
Which fill me with glee,
And know from its beauty
I never shall part,
For the green wood does live in my heart.
In the shade of the green wood
A soft gentle breeze,
Now caresses the branches
And whispers through trees,
A sound reassuring
Shall carry me to,
All the scenes that exist
In each marvellous view,
It's here that my spirit
Shall always now stay,
And the green wood is guiding my way.
poem by Andrew Blakemore
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In Sanctuary
THE young Spring air was strong like wine,
The sky reflected in your eyes
Was of a blue as deep-divine
As ever glowed in southern skies.
We passed from out the sunny lane
Into the green wood's shadowing;
And, sudden, all Love's words seemed vain
In that calm temple of the Spring.
Our god hears fair and tuneful words,
And splendid flowers his altars bear;
With choric song of leaves and birds,
Another god was worshipped there.
Silent, we passed the woodland, through
The coloured maze that Springtime weaves--
The light leaves dancing to the blue,
The sunlight dancing to the leaves;
I could not speak. I touched your hand
At the green arch that ends the wood:
'Ah--if she should not understand!'
Ah--if you had not understood!
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Dead Leaves
When these dead leaves were green, love,
November's skies were blue,
And summer came with lips aflame,
The gentle spring to woo;
And to us, wandering hand in hand,
Life was a fairy scene,
That golden morning in the woods
When these dead leaves were green!
How dream-like now that dewy morn,
Sweet with the wattle's flowers,
When love, love, love was all our theme,
And youth and hope were ours!
Two happier hearts in all the land
There were not then, I ween,
Than those young lovers' -- yours and mine --
When these dead leaves were green.
How gaily did you pluck these leaves
From the acacia's bough,
To mark the lyric we had read --
I can repeat it now!
While came the words, like music sweet,
Your smiling lips between --
"So fold my love within your heart,"
When these dead leaves were green!
How many springs have passed since then?
Ah, wherefore should we count,
The years that sped, like waters fled
From Time's unstaying fount?
We've had our share of happiness,
Our share of care have seen;
But love alone has never flown
Since these dead leaves were green.
Your heart is kind and loving still,
Your face to me as fair,
As when, that morn, the sunshine played
Amid your golden hair.
So, dearest, sweethearts still we'll be,
As we have ever been,
And keep our love as fresh and true
As when these leaves were green.
poem by Edward Booth Loughran
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My Castle In A Tree
As the sweet rain smears the watercolor world
And the beams of sunshine are stirred into it
As the trees ripple and splash around me
And my knees melt into the ground
The enormous trunk looms before me
My castle in a tree
Roots run in muscular veins down the mammoth redwood
They are the perfect staircase for me to ascend
As my swollen tears float off to space
The castle doors open to greet me
And my face is bathed in lamplight from within
My castle in a tree
The walls breathe a sigh of welcome
Flames leap onto every white wax candle
I take off my sandals so that my ancient feet
Warm the polished wooden floor
The world, it shivers before me in
My castle in a tree
The leaves, they let the sunlight in
But guard me from the things that lurk
Just beyond the edge of the earth
So that he not a one can see me
And there is not a thing at all to remember in
My castle in a tree
At once it evaporates into the golden sky
My hands and legs enflame before me
All the world is drowned in blackness and
Leaves not a single silver bubble
This is the death, the murder of
My castle in a tree
poem by Christopher R. Kennedy
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A lane in England
In autumn I walked in England
in a lane full of trees
where leaves lay auburn
on a road wet from rain.
Barren, stripped oak trees
were between other green ones
and it was as if I was going
right through a tunnel
with here and there trees
of which the leaves were more yellow.
In the distance the road bended to the right
where a bush fence
cut neatly square
and telephone poles
ran along the edge of the road
and the green moss banks
were covered with auburn leaves
at places
and on the other side
of the road
a shrub stretched out green and long
like a sausage
that was lying next to the road
and I would love
to have a lane like that
next to my driveway.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Sea, Mountain And I
I went to sea many times..
watched the waves, the
virgin islands, I loved
to walk on the sand,
of the far-stretched beach....
I swam and bathed with wilderness,
but, I couldn't love any sea.
I see everyday, the mountain range,
as if they stand in meditation,
with Pines, Oaks, and Birches
tufted with their loving hearts!
The curtain of mists opens up,
with the first appearance of,
the mild ray of the Sun...
The tops of the trees smile
and greet the world and
bow to the creator for all
for them He has done.
The dew-wrapped wet leaves,
stuck to my moving toes...
The winding paths invite
me to go, to go...
Down, down I see, the deep
ditch, with sudden touch of
day light, and darkness
of the unknown mystery,
tells me the horrible truth,
death is nothing but a simple
slip from known to very unknown.
Still, I am in half love
with life and death,
so I fall in deep love with this.
Mountain works in me like
daily fever and doesn't
let me go!
poem by Nilakshi Das
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Ballade Of Midsummer Days And Nights
With a ripple of leaves and a tinkle of streams
The full world rolls in a rhythm of praise,
And the winds are one with the clouds and beams -
Midsummer days! Midsummer days!
The dusk grows vast; in a purple haze,
While the West from a rapture of sunset rights,
Faint stars their exquisite lamps upraise -
Midsummer nights! O midsummer nights!
The wood's green heart is a nest of dreams,
The lush grass thickens and springs and sways,
The rathe wheat rustles, the landscape gleams -
Midsummer days! Midsummer days!
In the stilly fields, in the stilly ways,
All secret shadows and mystic lights,
Late lovers murmur and linger and gaze -
Midsummer nights! O midsummer nights!
There's a music of bells from the trampling teams,
Wild skylarks hover, the gorses blaze,
The rich, ripe rose as with incense steams -
Midsummer days! Midsummer days!
A soul from the honeysuckle strays,
And the nightingale as from prophet heights
Sings to the Earth of her million Mays -
Midsummer nights! O midsummer nights!
Envoy
And it's O, for my dear and the charm that stays -
Midsummer days! Midsummer days!
It's O, for my Love and the dark that plights -
Midsummer nights! O midsummer nights!
poem by William Ernest Henley
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Path into the bushes
There’s a road like out of a dream
or a fairy tale
that twists into the bushes,
but it’s white and pure
with innocence where it snakes
into the undergrowth
and the sky is open
and blue white to the horizon.
I walk pass a great white tree
with orange brown leaves
that rises above me
and a long dried out tree
of which the branches
reach like fingers into the air.
I follow the path
to the long blue gum trees
that are covered
with dark green leaves
and the odour of the trees
and the wood
hangs heavy in the air
and there’s something concrete
that’s stronger than a dream
[Reference: Wooded landscape by Mandi. Look at the painting on my web page: http: //www.mabooki.com/poems/display/1413_Path_into_th e_bushes.htm]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Song - Seasons of Galloway
The fields of wheat glow gold and sway
Old mem’ries flock from everywhere
On summer winds they drift in waves
Back to her towns and villages
As guillemots crowd ragged cliffs
And herring shoal off Clanyard Bay
Her sons and daughters all come home
In dreams of their young Galloway
‘Til gales come howlin’ from the west
The Cree runs high beneath the bridge
And Falling leaves ski down the wind
And starlings swirl upon the wing
For summer’s gone and sadness swells
In waves that break in Sand Eel bay
But shades of autumn weave their spell
Amongst the lanes of Galloway
Above Glen Trool the Merrick heights
All sleep beneath a chill of snow
And flights of geese come sweeping in
Across the White loch, flying low
While icy waters plunge down through
The Glen of Luce towards the sea
The cliffs are silent as the grave
And winter winds blast Galloway
‘til bluebell blossoms scent the woods
And timid deer and foxes roam
Amongst the cover on the hill
Above the village of Drummore
As swallows swoop through ancient ruins
Reminders of old yesterdays
But green shoots promise life again
Across the hills of Galloway.
03 09 08
Diana
What are you looking for at night
When moon is shining in the springs
And where the birds in warble fight
Flapping enchanted their wings?
Can't you perceive this nice array
Of leaves that whisper in the glade
And kiss each other and they play
In the refreshing forest's shade?
And like in mirrors moving fast
You want to watch a funny game,
In waters that have come and passed,
While your big eyes remain the same?
The spring has filled the woods again
Reviving everything, in truth,
However, all your thoughts are vain,
Like Endymion's, that fair youth.
Why do you want to be alone
With the low voice of secret source?
To hear the leaves by the wind blown
And sleep on grass, dark green and coarse?
And from that light reaching the glade,
From the cold waves, from shadow's charms,
To rise a fairy, a dear maid,
With big blue eyes and naked arms?
Oh! Now the boughs are bent with care
By little arms, so snowy white,
By a sweet face with yellow hair
On a tall body, slim, upright.
A golden bow makes her complete
And going hunting with much grace
On the innumerable leaves
She barely left a tiny trace.
poem by Mihai Eminescu, translated by Octavian Cocoş
Submitted by Octavian Cocoş
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Trust....
I trust the night
I trust the stars that shine
I trust the moon
I know its love’s divine
I trust the wind
I trust its winding ways
I trust the sky
I know its separate days
I trust the dawn
I trust its rising light
I trust the sun
I know its blinding sight
I trust the clouds
I trust the crimson waves
I trust the things I love
I know that this trust saves Me.
poem by Shashidhar Kumar
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Away With The Summer Days
Verse 1:
I met her on a sunny sunday afternoon
She hit me with a smile warmer than the days of june
By then I knew she had to be in some way a part of me
She was as beautiful as a flower in bloom, flower in bloom
Chorus:
The heat of the sunshine could not compare
To the heat of the passion in times we shared
And then out of the blue the cold winds came
She went away and Ill never be the same
She went away with the summer days
She went away with the summer days
Verse 2:
We were inseperable we would spend
Everyday together night after the day would then
The time would come for the sun to leave (sun to leave)
Thats the way things had to be (had to be)
And when the sun was gone I looked around and so was she
Chorus:
The heat of the sunshine could not compare
To the heat of the passion in times we shared
And then out of the blue the cold winds came
She went away and Ill never be the same
She went away with the summer days
She went away with the summer days
Summer days, oh, summer days
She went away with the summer days
Bridge:
Though the summertime is through (the summertime is through)
I cant stop thinking of you (thinking of you)
I cant seem to get you off my mind
All I know is I cant wait until next summertime
Chorus:
The heat of the sunshine could not compare (noooo)
To the heat of the passion in times we shared
And then out of the blue the cold winds came
She went away and Ill never be the same
She went away with the summer days
She went away with the summer days
The heat of the sunshine could not compare
To the heat of the passion in times we shared
And then out of the blue the cold winds came
She went away and Ill never be the same
She went away with the summer days
She went away with the summer days
song performed by by Youngstown
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet: Grow Trees
The branches cut the wind fierce to a breeze;
The leaves break sunlight into chequered beams;
The shade of trees affords all travelers peace;
The wearied ones sleep ’neath the trees in dreams!
And birds too build their nests on branches high;
The squirrels eat their berries with great joy;
The trees make verdant all landscape near-by;
And attract rain in which children enjoy!
Trees make the earth greener and beautiful,
Adding oxygen to the air we breathe;
Preserve its trees, man! Nature is grateful;
The leaves and flowers can make us a wreath.
Trees are so useful to mankind always;
’midst good trees, men have spent their earthly days!
7-14-2002
poem by John Celes
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Shine All Your Light
Here under heaven's eyes,
down under paradise,
sometimes it seems like we're so small.
Here on the shores that reach
into infinity,
how could we matter much at all?
Would it be enough
if each of us would give our love?
Like sand on a mountain,
rain on a fountain,
shade on a shadow,
a breeze in this tornado,
just do what you can.
Clap with one hand
and shine all your light in the sun.
We live to learn to love.
Oh, mercy from above.
Amazing grace, like rain comes falling down.
We sing our hearts to you,
our song of gratitude.
The voice of ev'ry soul,
how sweet the sound.
We can only trust
all our prayers will all add up.
Like sand on a mountain,
rain on a fountain,
shade on a shadow,
a breeze in this tornado,
just do what you can.
Clap with one hand
and shine all your light in the sun.
Would it be enough
if each of us would give our love?
Like sand on a mountain,
rain on a fountain,
shade on a shadow,
a breeze in this tornado,
just do what you can.
Clap with one hand
and shine all your light in the sun.
song performed by by Amy Grant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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From the Forests
Where in a green, moist, myrtle dell
The torrent voice rings strong
And clear, above a star-bright well,
I write this woodland song.
The melodies of many leaves
Float in a fragrant zone;
And here are flowers by deep-mossed eaves
That day has never known.
I'll weave a garland out of these,
The darlings of the birds,
And send it over singing seas
With certain sunny words -
With certain words alive with light
Of welcome for a thing
Of promise, born beneath the white,
Soft afternoon of Spring.
The faithful few have waited long
A life like this to see;
And they will understand the song
That flows to-day from me.
May every page within this book
Be as a radiant hour;
Or like a bank of mountain brook,
All flower and leaf and flower.
May all the strength and all the grace
Of Letters make it beam
As beams a lawn whose lovely face
Is as a glorious dream.
And may that strange divinity
That men call Genius write
Some deathless thing in days to be,
To fill those days with light.
Here where the free, frank waters run,
I pray this book may grow
A sacred candour like the sun
Above the morning snow.
May noble thoughts in faultless words -
In clean white diction - make
It shine as shines the home of birds
And moss and leaf and lake.
This fair fresh life with joy I hail,
And this belief express,
Its days will be a brilliant tale
Of effort and success.
Here ends my song; I have a dream
Of beauty like the grace
Which lies upon the land of stream
In yonder mountain place.
poem by Henry Kendall
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Special Pleading
THE world's a path all fresh and sweet,
A sky all fresh and fair,
With daisies underneath your feet
And roses for your hair;
Red roses for your pretty hair,
Green trees to shade your way,
And lavish blossoms everywhere,
Because the time is May.
How gold the sun shines through the green!
How soft the turf is spread!
How richly falls the shimmering sheen
About your darling head!
How in the dawn of Paradise
Should you foresee the night?
How, with the sunlight in your eyes,
See aught beyond the light?
The world's a path all rough and wild,
A sky all black with fears,
Among the ghosts, unhappy child,
You stumble, blind with tears;
The track is faint, and far the fold,
And very far the day:
Unless you have a hand to hold,
How will you find the way?
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Drifting Sun
Music :ulrich roth
Lyrics:ulrich roth
Well, Im sitting on a stone
Sitting all alone
Daisies are rolling down the mountain
Well see the lonesome tramp
Whos living in the damp
Nobodys in the valley
Shine on, shine on sun
Oh its so cold right here
Shine on, shine on sun
Shine on all night long
All night long
Baby doll, Im sad and blue
Glossy wings will carry you
Well, midnight sun will never shine
These ravings of a fool
Youre thinking all about him all the time
Shine on, shine on sun
Oh its so cold right here
Shine on, shine on sun
Shine on all night long, all night long
All night long, yeah
One day baby told you sun just fades away
Forgot your life is fading, now hes in the grave
Some days like drifting haze
Some days like glowing blaze
Some days like tides of light
Some days like tides of night
One day baby told you sun just fades away
Forgot your life is fading, now hes in the grave
Some days like drifting haze
Some days like glowing blaze
Some days like tides of light
Some days like tides of night
Travelling along a tropic highway
Crazy as the world goes round and round
Hallowed heaven, night or day
Burning thing has putting the sun away
Shine on, shine on sun
Let it shine on all night long
Shine on, shine on sun
Let it shine on all night long
song performed by by Scorpions
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Spells Of Home
There blend the ties that strengthen
Our hearts in hours of grief,
The silver links that lengthen
Joy's visits when most brief.
BERNARD BARTON.
BY the soft green light in the woody glade,
On the banks of moss where thy childhood play'd;
By the household tree thro' which thine eye
First look'd in love to the summer-sky,
By the dewy gleam, by the very breath
Of the primrose tufts in the grass beneath,
Upon thy heart there is laid a spell,
Holy and precious oh! guard it well!
By the sleepy ripple of the stream,
Which hath lull'd thee into many a dream;
By the shiver of the ivy-leaves
To the wind of morn at thy casement-eaves,
By the bee's deep murmur in the limes,
By the music of the Sabbath-chimes,
By every sound of thy native shade,
Stronger and dearer the spell is made.
By the gathering round the winter hearth,
When twilight call'd unto household mirth;
By the fairy tale or the legend old
In that ring of happy faces told;
By the quiet hour when hearts unite
In the parting prayer and the kind 'Good-night;'
By the smiling eye and the loving tone,
Over thy life has the spell been thrown.
And bless that gift! it hath gentle might,
A guardian power and a guiding light.
It hath led the freeman forth to stand
In the mountain-battles of his land;
It hath brought the wanderer o'er the seas
To die on the hills of his own fresh breeze;
And back to the gates of his father's hall,
It hath led the weeping prodigal.
Yes! when thy heart in its pride would stray
From the pure first loves of its youth away;
When the sullying breath of the world would come
O'er the flowers it brought from its childhood's home;
Think thou again of the woody glade,
And the sound by the rustling ivy made,
Think of the tree at thy father's door,
And the kindly spell shall have power once more!
poem by Felicia Dorothea Hemans
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Follow Thy Fair Sun
1 Follow thy fair sun, unhappy shadow;
2 Though thou be black as night,
3 And she made all of light,
4 Yet follow thy fair sun, unhappy shadow.
5 Follow her, whose light thy light depriveth;
6 Though here thou liv'st disgrac'd,
7 And she in heaven is plac'd,
8 Yet follow her whose light the world reviveth.
9 Follow those pure beams, whose beauty burneth;
10 That so have scorched thee,
11 As thou still black must be,
12 Till her kind beams thy black to brightness turneth.
13 Follow her, while yet her glory shineth;
14 There comes a luckless night
15 That will dim all her light;
16 And this the black unhappy shade divineth.
17 Follow still, since so thy fates ordained;
18 The sun must have his shade,
19 Till both at once do fade,
20 The sun still proud, the shadow still disdained.
poem by Thomas Campion
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