Meeting Place
On the mug
my mother held -
where birds she loved
flew
under the storm
painted in grey,
over blue spruce, green pine,
and brown earth -
for years
she and I
almost touched
on its rim.
Our hands
almost joined
on its grip.
Then careless,
I let it slip
and shatter.
With no where else
to rendezvous,
we'd never
be together
again.
poem by Joe Oppenheimer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Sky-Minded
Blue sky,
blue sky.
Looking at you, wishing the day by.
Blue sky,
purple sky.
Storm coming in, here it is, there's the eye.
Blue sky,
grey sky.
The earth is wailing, the thunder yells, and the clouds cry.
Blue sky,
grey sky,
black sky.
Tore away at the moon, swallowed stars, listened to the sun die.
Black sky
Green sky
Orange sky
Red sky
Pink and yellow and mean sky.
Come on and roll in; it's only in my mind.
poem by Delilah Miller
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Dying Child
He could not die when trees were green,
For he loved the time too well.
His little hands, when flowers were seen,
Were held for the bluebell,
As he was carried o'er the green.
His eye glanced at the white-nosed bee;
He knew those children of the spring:
When he was well and on the lea
He held one in his hands to sing,
Which filled his heart with glee.
Infants, the children of the spring!
How can an infant die
When butterflies are on the wing,
Green grass, and such a sky?
How can they die at spring?
He held his hands for daisies white,
And then for violets blue,
And took them all to bed at night
That in the green fields grew,
As childhood's sweet delight.
And then he shut his little eyes,
And flowers would notice not;
Birds' nests and eggs caused no surprise,
He now no blossoms got;
They met with plaintive sighs.
When winter came and blasts did sigh,
And bare were plain and tree,
As he for ease in bed did lie
His soul seemed with the free,
He died so quietly.
poem by John Clare
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Amorous Interlude
A brown dress was far from romantic
Oh my! What must she do?
Tonight is the night
She meets her beloved
At their magical rendezvous.
The brown dress she changed
For a new gown of blue
And as they met in the moonlight
Hopes of love were born anew
Kisses were sweet at the rendezvous.
Brown dresses are far from romantic
But she knew just what to do...
One marvellous night,
She shone with delight
As amour lit up the whole rendezvous.
poem by Joyce Hemsley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Blue Heaven Rendezvous
Blue light guitars and a tropical breeze
Hummin birds mime the words as they dance in the trees
Its a flashback kind of crowd
Its a cabaret sound
Theres still some magic left in this tourist town
Those crazy days
And crazy ways
We never want to undo
Well be together
Now and forever
At the blue heaven rendezvous
Were weird roman candles
Burnin bright at both ends
At the end of the roads
Where this story beings
Where the green of the gulf
Meets the blue of the sea
What makes it all happens
Still a mystery to me
Those crazy days
And those crazy ways
We never want to undo
Well be together
Now and forever
At the blue heaven rendezvous
If these walls could talk
I dont know what theyd say
Theyve seen some accidental masquerades
But its no surprise
Dances til dawn
Heroes long gone
Let that guitar play
Well be together
Now and forever
At the blue heaven rendezvous
Well be together
Now and forever
At the blue, blue heaven rendezvous
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
2.2 Brown Cow
Truth is a slippery thing
Twisted by lies, or
Looks, or an expression
That begs for the reader
To think of more, of
A different chocolate
Slip of grace....how
Now, brown cow?
Do you pine for shaded
Trees, and farmers who
Press with warm hands
In your private place?
I, too, wish for doctors
Who know that warm hands
Are better than cold speculums.
How now, brown cow?
Do they push your ovaries as
They press mine? Do they
Mention a golf game
And when was your last pap smear?
I don't look, even as I am helped up.
I hate the invasion of male
Hands in a spread female place
Slippery with careless gel and
Professional aplomb.
I take a long time to dress.
poem by Charlotte Ballard
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Color of Life (a written picture)
Blue spruce
- in a green garden
Black bird
- above a yellow field
Brown hawk
- against a red canyon
White cloud
- within a blue sky
Purple silouette
- leaning upon an orange dusk
All the colors
of the earth
And all the colors
of those that live therein
Are all the colors
of all of Life.
poem by Smoky Hoss
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Highly-Colored Romance
Ben Green was a New-Hampshire boy,
Who stood full six feet two:
A jovial chap this same Ben Green,
Though he had oft been blue.
He loved a girl named Olive Brown,
Who lived near Bixby's pond,
And who, despite her brunette name,
Was a decided blonde.
"A Highly Colored Romance."
A pink of rare perfection she,
The belle of all the town;
Though Ben oft wished her Olive Green,
Instead of Olive Brown.
And she loved Ben, and said that nought
Should mar their joy serene;
And, when she changed from Olive Brown,
'Twould surely be to Green.
She kept her word in-violet,
And vowed, ere she was wed,
Although when Brown she had Be(e)n Green.
When Green she'd be well read.
But, ah! her young affections changed
To Gray, a Southern fellow;
And Green turned white the news to hear,
Though first it made him yell, oh!
Says he, " How can you lilac this,
When you vowed to be true?
I'll take your fine young lover, Gray,
And beat him till he's blue."
Then Olive Brown to crimson turned,
And said, "Do as you say:
The country long has wished to see
'The Blue combined with Gray.'"
Ben Green to purple turned with rage,
And black his brow as night;
While on the cheek of Olive Brown
The crimson changed to white.
"O cruel Olive Brown!" says Ben,
"I've been dun-brown by you:
Let this 'Grayback' his steps retrace,
And take Greenback, — oh, do!"
Poor Olive Brown, what could she say,
To sea-Green look so sad ?
And so she rose, and said to him,
"I'll go and ask my dad."
. . . .
The years rolled by: Ben's raven locks
For silver did not lack;
And Olive, with her hair of gold,
Was glad she took Greenback.
poem by Charles Follen Adams from Yawcob Strauss and Other Poems
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy!
If.... (A Man)
if i shed a tear,
and wrapped it in brown paper...
and left it on your pillow,
would you hear the ocean?
if i laid my body down,
and became the wind....
that blew out your candle,
would you hear my heart?
if i chose to die,
for one moment of living...
and gave it to you without regret,
would you fly for a moment?
and if i loved you,
enough to turn deserts into rivers...
enough to turn brown leaves to green,
would you listen, would you listen?
and if i touched you,
with hands of fire and storm...
and my tongue undressed your eyes,
would you see me... a man!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Lilah, Alice, Hypatia
To Alice and Hypatia Bradlaugh
Who was Lilah? I am sure
She was young and sweet and pure;
With the forehead wise men love,-
Here a lucid dawn above
Broad curved brows, and twilight there,
Under the deep dusk of hair.
And her eyes? I cannot say
Whether brown, or blue, or grey:
I have seen them brown, and blue,
And a soft green grey-the hue
Shakespeare loved (and he was wise):
'Grey as glass' were Silvia's eyes.
So to Lilah's name above
I will add two names I love,
Linking with the bracket curls
Three sweet names of three sweet girls:-
Sunday of Saint Valentine,
Eighteen hundred sixty-nine.
poem by James Thomson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Whose Garden Was This?
This song appears on two albums, and was first released on the whose garden was this? album, and has also been released on the changes album.
Whose garden was this
It must have been lovely
Did it have flowers
Ive seen pictures of flowers
And Id love to have smelled one
Whose river was this
You say it ran freely
Blue was its colour
And Ive seen blue in some pictures
And Id love to have been there
Tell me again, I need to know
The forest had trees, the meadows were green
The oceans were blue
And birds really flew
Can you swear that its true
Whose grey sky was this
Or was it a blue one
You say they were breezes
Ive heard records of breezes
And Id love to have felt one
Tell me again, I need to know
The forest had trees, the meadows were green
The oceans were blue
And birds really flew
Can you swear that its true
Whose garden was this
It must have been lovely
Did it have flowers
Ive seen pictures of flowers
And Id love to have smelled one
Tell me again, I need to know
Tell me again, I need to know
Tell me again, I need to know
Words and music by tom paxton
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Out Of Blue Comes Green
(pal waaktaar)
Father
My wings are clipped
See the steps that made me trip
Now Im so lonely
Mother
Times frozen flame
Seem to linger in the rain
Holding me only
Like a river Im flowing
And theres no way of knowing
If Im coming or going
I need something to chain me down
But it dont matter
My eyes have seen...
For better
Out of blue comes green
Mother
I have gone wrong
Work my fingers to the bone
All Ive been doing
Father
Proud that I am
To be born into such hands
Your love so renewing
And I know I can lose it
Part of life you cant choose it
As I touched the horizon
It just felt like Id die soon
Dont matter
My eyes have seen
For better
Out of blue comes green
out of blue comes green
Lauren savoy.
song performed by by A-Ha
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Nature Speaks...(God) Jan 2011
The wind blows restlessly across my silken hair,
I lift my eyes to the sky in shattered despair,
The recent weather sends shivers down my spine.
As natures gives up with less chances less trying.
The radiant truth in its deeds as it flawlessly speaks.
About the beauty and nature it shared in its peak.
The fragrant flowers that blossomed in spring.
The picture beauty, luxurious green it did bring.
The river that flows under the 'crowned green' tree
And the rich civilization flowers, as birds sing sweetly
The delicious fruits satisfying our tasty buds and needs.
An ocean with its murmur and variety of fish to our feed.
The bounties were never unending and oh so plentiful..
Each warn, storm, vision dimmed, you walked into deadly fate,
Paid no heed, heard not the danger, you awake now too late.
Tall towers, skyscrapers shattered to the bottom ground.
Mother nature overflows, writhing in pain and an angry sound
Save it all before the darkest hour, to unwind the angry storm
To restore and recover that beauty in the best of perfect form
Environment contaminated as the sweet fragrance dies…..
Resources scarce and ceases to be with every sunrise.
Careless hands.... careless minds...and oh the careless hearts
Sad results of the ‘blue marble collapse’ as its torn apart!
poem by Shirani Ibrahim
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Wonderful Painting
A Wonderful Painting
by Alex Lewis
I remember before my mother's art
When I was but an egg.
The painting took color in every part.
One shade is but a leg.
The lavish blues spread across the page like a waving, smiling sea.
The canvas was plain and bare, except the blues, happily set free.
With the blue, I went to play as childish as I may.
The one clam and I sat with ourselves on the whaling bay.
This is me, like a leaf, on my first day at green.
So, all the others spoke; I found that none were mean.
There were dark greens, light ones, and one stuck in the middle.
After math, my friend and I learnt to play the fiddle.
My friend and I continued to play our little tune.
We soon fell in pink to which neither one was immune.
Our pink grew and grew as each day had passed.
Green had ended blue; only pink would last.
We took our pink and ran right through to angry, waiting brown.
Brown was angry for making him wait with a black-white frown.
We explained that blue made us wait for an azure set of eighteen.
He forgave us. My friend, brown, pink, and I live for only one team.
We decided to get the canvas and add a dash of white.
Pink was overwhelmed as white carried on through the love-filled night.
We can add white to family before blue decides to return again.
Red will also join the painting party-Another eighteen before men!
It took a lot of work to make my dear reds come.
I enjoyed the work, but my reds were way more fun.
One red stayed with us, but the other ran away rather young.
Maybe brown kidnapped him early, but strange words travel by tongue.
We turned grey as brown dimmed down, but we swear we've never seen pink more bright!
Brown had completely gone, like both of our reds, but pink still made things light.
I then feared and cried as my pink's grey burned out like a setting sun.
My grey began to fade too, but I was ready. My life was done.
My mother handed me the canvas and the frame,
But I had to add all the colors (none I showed for shame) .
Blue, green, pink, brown, red, grey-my portrait is made of those colors,
But I am just one piece in a gallery, and all of you are the others.
poem by Alex Lewis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Green Sky
One time, I asked the shooting stars
So that they swam in the green sky
So that no one can contaminated them
Like what just happened in the blue sky
That cotton cloud was taste so sweet
When they flew in the green sky
When birds still can ate them
Like when that didn't happen in the blue sky
I saw my reflection on the river flow
So beautiful when the green sky is behind me
So bright the reflection is
Like used in the blue sky
I don't know when we would meet
It may be never
But I want to try to see you
I don't want they regret what they have done
Because they never have meet you, green sky
poem by Renaisan Esaeliem
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Get A Grip
I see it on the tv, its playing on my mind,
Everything I see has got something to do with killing my brother.
Just another mind game? or maybe its a sign,
When the child with a gun holds it up to the head of his brother.
Well that aint nice. gotta get a grip, gotta get a hold on life,
Gotta get a grip cause youre gonna slip, yeah.
Somebody tell me, where did we lose?
Wheres the point that we lost the control to live with each other?
Mister politician, searching for a lie.
Whats the truth? will the youth find the proof for a revolution?
Cause that aint nice, gotta get a grip, gotta get a hold on life
Gotta get a grip cause youre gonna slip, on ice,
Gotta get a grip, gotta get a hold on life
Gotta get a grip cause youre gonna slip
Gotta get a hold of the situation, gotta get you into my life,
Gotta get a hold and get it moving.
I cant tell you what you need to know its up to you, oh yeah
That aint nice, gotta get a grip, gotta get a hold on life
Gotta get a grip, cause youre gonna slip, on ice,
Gotta get a grip, gotta get a hold on life
Gotta get a grip cause youre gonna slip.
Gotta get a hold of the situation, gotta get a hold on life,
Gotta get a grip and get it moving,
I cant tell you what you need to know, its up to you, oh yeah.
Dont your blood run cold, dont the sorrow show,
Hold on tight to what you have.
See it in your eyes, dont it make you cry,
Get a grip and shake the can.
Get a grip, yeah, get a grip, yeah, get a grip, yeah,
Get a grip, get a grip, get a grip, get a grip, get a hold.
Get a grip on life, get a grip on life, get a grip on life,
Yeah get a grip.
song performed by by Black Sabbath
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Young Friar
When leaves broke out on the wild briar,
And bells for matins rung,
Sorrow came to the old friar
– Hundreds of years ago it was! –
And May came to the young.
The old was ripening for the sky,
The young was twenty-four.
The Franklin's daughter passed him by,
Reading a painted missal-book,
Beside the chapel door.
With brown cassock and sandalled feet,
And red Spring wine for blood;
The very next noon he chanced to meet
The Franklin's daughter, in a green May twilight,
Walking through the wood.
Pax vobiscum – to a maid
The crosiered ferns among!
But hers was only the Saxon,
And his the Norman tongue;
And the Latin taught by the old friar
Made music for the young.
And never a better deed was done
By Mother Church below
Than when she made old England one,
– Hundreds of years ago it was! –
Hundreds of years ago.
Rich was the painted page they read
Before that sunset died;
Nut-brown hood by golden head,
Murmuring Rosa Mystica,
While nesting thrushes cried.
A Saxon maid with flaxen hair,
And eyes of Sussex grey;
A young monk out of Normandy: –
'May is our Lady's month,' he said,
'And O, my love, my May!'
Then over the fallen missal-book
The missel-thrushes sung
Till – Domus Aurea – rose the moon
And bells for vespers rung.
It was gold and blue for the old friar,
But hawthorn for the young.
For gown of green and brown hood,
Before that curfew tolled,
Had flown for ever through the wood
– Hundreds of years ago it was! –
But twenty summers old.
And empty stood his chapel stall,
Empty his thin grey cell,
Empty her seat in the Franklin's hall;
And there were swords that searched for them
Before the matin bell.
And, crowders tell, a sword that night
Wrought them an evil turn,
And that the may was not more white
Than those white bones the robin found
Among the roots of fern.
But others tell of stranger things
Half-heard on Whitsun eves,
Of sweet and ghostly whisperings –
Though hundreds of years ago it was –
Among the ghostly leaves: –
Sero te amavi –
Grey eyes of sun-lit dew! –
Tam antiqua, tam nova –
Augustine heard it, too.
Late have I loved that May, Lady,
So ancient, and so new!
And no man knows where they were flown,
For the wind takes the may:
But white and fresh the may was blown
– Though hundreds of years ago it was –
As this that blooms to-day.
And the leaves break out on the wild briar,
And bells must still be rung;
But sorrow comes to the old friar,
For he remembers a May, a May,
When his old heart was young.
poem by Alfred Noyes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Vale To Shore Through Mother Earths Door
So breath-takingly dressed in Earthen garb--
Moss and dandelions for her hair---
A chocolate brown-evening gown--
With accessories so rare;
Earthen minerals dazzle her graceful neck...
With agate stones for her delicate ears-
Soft cotton shoes-in a cobalt blue...
Such a beautiful reflection in the rivers mirror;
Mother Earth sizzles this day--
On her way 'cross Emerald Vale--
Villagers stare-quite beguiled by her hair--
'Tis a Green-Earth Dancing Tale;
Her flaxen mane flows ever graceful--
Her dazzling eyes-a brillant blue...
With skin-a dream-of peaches and cream--
Her life- a lush verdant hue;
Mother Earth dances with joy...
Welcoming in each New Dawn--
Dressed in natures best-truly blessed...!
She embraces the glistening dew upon the green lawn;
She is so breathtaking in her Earthen garb...
With a floral bouquet for her hands-
Mother Earth 'tis filled with mirth--
As she walks 'long sea-shores alibaster sands;
Watching the tides as they ebb and flow...
Directed by the Moon upon high--
Mother Earth-'tis soon to give birth...
'Neath the shorelines Azure sky;
As she continues on ever forward...
In her spirited dazzling green array--
The Green Palms-they line-the shores of time-
Hence embellishing the Graceful Turquoise Bay;
May 23,2010
A Green Poem
Thank You God
poem by Theodora Onken
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
60's Dream
The grass glowed with light,
effervescent green bouncing,
under the blue,
radiant air flowing around,
the hot sun warms my skin,
Wild energy surrounds me,
sparks fly about, insects sing with their burst of life,
so short
Grey skies arrive but there is no doom,
the sun warms the grey and there is light,
the birds still sing,
the grass is still green,
energy surrounds all who breathe,
earth bound we are planetary creatures
jump in to the air and feel the wind,
against your skin,
you are so alive,
under the the sun,
you are warm, heated, loved,
smiling, smiling with the sun god
poem by Sara Winters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Loved
I loved,
But didn’t speak about it.
I loved,
But didn’t show my feelings.
I loved,
But didn’t expose my soul.
I was speechless
And I was tireless
To listen to your words.
For me they were singing birds.
I loved
And I had seen a wonder.
I loved,
Was not afraid of any thunder.
I loved
And heard only your voice.
You were my only rejoice.
Your eyes sparkled,
They were two shining miracles.
My heart used to sank
As only you touched my hand.
That was long time ago.
My love I didn’t show
As I was only seventeen
And all around seemed blue and green.
©Larisa Rzhepishevska
The 5th of April,2011
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Meditation on a Grey Morning
Grey morning
lights
the bland sky.
Black birds light
on bare trees
thin limbs wavering
as they flit
scanning
the frozen earth.
All the world is waiting,
to unwind explosive buds
to shed thin shrouds
and burst into emerald light
as joyful black birds rise
into the endless
blue sky.
Great is their faith,
these birds and trees.
They know beyond all reason
that the sun
will thaw
the icy grip
of violent winter
poem by Steven Federle
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!