first light
birds break through the mist
with chirps
haiku by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Related quotes
Beneath a morning mist
Beneath a morning mist
~
A morning mist hides
the potential of a beautiful sky
low cloud covers streets and roads
the moist dew of the air
cold against the skin
a freshness to the lungs
welcomed regardless
eyes look into the nothingness
eagerly anticipating the sun
to break through its light
and warm the gardens
meanwhile the mist is silent
quietly haunting all
this is just a day beginning
lets pray its beautiful
poem by Matthew Holloway
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The Sparrow
A LITTLE bird, with plumage brown,
Beside my window flutters down,
A moment chirps its little strain,
Then taps upon my window-pane,
And chirps again, and hops along,
To call my notice to its song;
But I work on, nor heed its lay,
Till, in neglect, it flies away.
So birds of peace and hope and love
Come fluttering earthward from above,
To settle on life's window-sills,
And ease our load of earthly ills;
But we, in traffic's rush and din
Too deep engaged to let them in,
With deadened heart and sense plod on,
Nor know our loss till they are gone.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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neighbour's chopin
the birds chip in
chirps
haiku by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Paeans
Muffled chirps of birds
magnifying
their sweetness;
the dream
wrapped notes
wakening up
the brain
with joyful
images of paradise
where birds
and animals
share eternal life
and space
where belief has it
that men would not
see the full spectre
of its wonders
till one completes
a life filled
with integrity and charity
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Haiku is
haiku is telling the readers
how the day starts
and how it actually ends
the light, the mist, the birds, the sun
how the dawn is different from the dusk
how the birds sing in the dawn
and how they sing in the dusk
and ultimately how the sun rises
and how it sets
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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That Lonely Tree
there is that tall tree
in the garden that
gnaws at my loneliness
the tree that looms
into sky and my heart
with a chilling quietness
that cries that
'it has gone on for too long'.
here, crickets and all
kinds of birds
call home celebrating it
with their chirps and shrills
by morn, by night
they hit at all these
painful drums of
emptiness within me
the children used
to run round
a little tree
like friend it
welcomed them
with its protruding
hands and carresses
twisting with them
as they played hide and seek
now the tree like me
is holding its own dream
in the mist, in the sun,
in the rain, and the dark dark night
the dream that someone
would come again
running round us
putting back the laughter
the twist and dance in our existence
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Listening To An Indian Cherokee Morning Song
sounds of drums
and pan flute
and women
voices
so peaceful
in here
i can hear the music
of the pines
and chirps of the
little birds
in a moment i am leaving
my coffee
and start to dance
under the morning
sky
of an indian summer
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Misty River
This morning
Me in this Misty River
All the happiness
I am feeling inside myself
Misty River
The mist is coming
From this Misty River
There are clouds
In the sky
And the mist
Is caused by the condensation
Of the heat mixed in the cold water
Misty River
I am in a fishing boat
That boat is moving slowly in this
Misty river
It is early in the morning
I am eating my breakfast in the fishing boat in the middle of this
Misty River
I hear the birds singing early in the morning
In this Misty River
There must be trees because the sound of the birds is coming from the Branches
Misty River
So peaceful
It looks so different with the mist
No one is around but me
With my fishing boat
And the beautiful sound of the birds
It is so nice
To have a place to come to
Where I can
Hear the sound of the birds
And be left alone
With no one disturbing me
Misty River
This is my special place
And by afternoon
No clouds I will see
The birds are beautiful
Their song is just beautiful like mother nature intended it to be
If nobody else appreciates this Misty River
I do
Misty River
I will die for you
Misty River
I will shed my tears for you
I have been coming here for so long now
Misty River
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Demystified for M' lady Cate
The mist persists, it will insist
it has the right to block the light
with trailing wisps of dirty white.
The mist is wrong and it will learn
to leave when it has served its turn
Because the sun will rise and burn
the remnants of the mist away
There is no way that it can stay
once the bright sun comes out to play.
The mist defeated has to go.
It leaves reluctantly and slow
but where it goes I do not know.
It will return with fall of night
lurk in the darkness hid from sight.
Unless outlined by the moonlight.
The silver light makes it appear
to be the ghosts which cause men fear.
But they will quickly disappear
When banks of cloud obscure the light.
Be re-absorbed into the night.
to their dismay but men’s delight.
The mists persist they wont desist
as long as day and night exist
and if they did they would be missed.
The moisture which the mist supply
the plants trees drink thirstily.
Without the mists some plants would die.
1-Jun-08
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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When the birds fly
When the birds fly
the mind opens its eye
the heart looks up to the sky
the birds fly.
The birds fly south
the ear opens its mouth
the nose sees summer
the kids they are playing out...
When the birds fly
we dream our words dont die.
Reborn with a babys cry
the birds fly leaving stars
they stay in the night,
we are the birds
we escape to the light.
poem by Daniel McCann
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The glow in the fog and mist
The spectral glow of a bobbing lantern
As if tossed upon a stormy sea
Appearing..then fading anon, absorbed
In foggy essence, to fade again so feebly
Once more, ere sinking in finality
Into the quicksand of mist
Mere glow of candle, so dear to see
Seen now…then not, …with capricious twist
The spectral light, drifts through the night
As a ghost through fog and mist
Through ribs of rain, the tremulous light
Chills the brain, befogs the sight
Dimly lit, by lanterns in the mist
Dark clouds upon the soul this night
Fog is the dark abode of lost souls
Who wander without rest with lantern high
The mist, the breath, of hollow death
The fog, the food, on which to persist
Tis best my friend, not to be, nor ne'r to see….
The glow in the fog and mist
poem by David Whalen
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Love In A Mist
Light love in a mist, by the midsummer moon misguided,
Scarce seen in the twilight garden if gloom insist,
Seems vainly to seek for a star whose gleam has derided
Light love in a mist.
All day in the sun, when the breezes do all they list,
His soft blue raiment of cloudlike blossom abided
Unrent and unwithered of winds and of rays that kissed.
Blithe-hearted or sad, as the cloud or the sun subsided,
Love smiled in the flower with a meaning whereof none wist
Save two that beheld, as a gleam that before them glided,
Light love in a mist.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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By My Window....
dawn
darkness finally receding
morning
light spreads
the leaves of trees
begin to appear
the mountains
show up in magnificence
little black birds
hover on the tree fronting my window
dews giving up
mist gone.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Night-Fliers
THE birds that soar break space
Like heavy bodies hurled!
Not so the birds of night
They move as in a sphere
On which they touch always
How patterned their flight!
The owl, the whippoorwill!
And like volcano's ash
His plumes all cinderous
Black mirrors are his eyes
(The owl's). They'll fill with light
What time will come the cries
As from tongues taut with dews
(The whippoorwills). What sounds
Are in their day-lost world,
What motions and what hues!
poem by Padraic Colum
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Nightfall
Sun vanishes 'neath far horizon
Vista blurred by twilight haze
Earth defined by jagged shadows
Night smells waft heavy
Birds rest on leafy boughs
Day creatures go to ground
A brief silence…
Moon peeks thru distant clouds
Beams of silver light night sky
Nocturnal creatures awaken
Anxious to fill hungry bellies
Night sounds pervade
A cricket chirps his call
Ever hopeful for a mate
Mice scurry about, unaware
Of an owl perched above
Day and night dance eternal...
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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Last Answers
I wrote a poem on the mist
And a woman asked me what I meant by it.
I had thought till then only of the beauty of the mist,
how pearl and gray of it mix and reel,
And change the drab shanties with lighted lamps at evening
into points of mystery quivering with color.
I answered:
The whole world was mist once long ago and some day
it will all go back to mist,
Our skulls and lungs are more water than bone and tissue
And all poets love dust and mist because all the last answers
Go running back to dust and mist.
poem by Carl Sandburg
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Gentle Rain
Have you ever
Listened to the sound
Of gentle rain?
Drink with eyes closed
A soothing lullaby
Music for repose
Like a baby's sigh
Sound so soft
With chirps of birds
That bathe
Unafraid
Of its wetness
Washed by
Gentleness
Touching you
With peace.
Cynthia BuhainBaello
6/28/12
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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No Mans Land
City street lights
And the multiple life
But babe you gotta give and go
Cigarette lights
Then my finger alights
I need to be alone
She can take you tonight
She can make you, thats alright
She can break you tonight
Dont misunderstand
Cigarette girls
Goes head in and whirls
You will be a superman
Open her booths
Deal must to the bruiser
Drinking all I can
We can take that tonight
We can make them, thats right
We can break them tonight
Dont misunderstand
The light...
Alone in the light
Alone in the light
In the sea of pain
You can take it tonight
She can make you, thats right
She can break you tonight
Dont misunderstand
cause they cry, and...
Alone in the light
Alone in the light
Alone in the light
In the sea at night
We rode the streets in the morning light
We held our day in our hands
Alone in the light
Alone in the light
Alone in the light
In the sea at night
song performed by by U2
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Morning Lights Outside The Kitchen Door...
must it be habit
that makes you turn off the light
outside the kitchen
at the break of day
when the birds start to
sing their songs
you save on electricity
in the same manner that you budget
your time and
money
i've tried it once
not putting off the lights from morning
till night
some early birds that pick the early worms
passing by the house
with closed doors and windows
with lights not switched off
think that i am
dead
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Upon the mountain's distant head
Upon the mountain's distant head,
With trackless snows for ever white,
Where all is still, and cold, and dead,
Late shines the day's departing light.
But far below those icy rocks,
The vales, in summer bloom arrayed,
Woods full of birds, and fields of flocks,
Are dim with mist and dark with shade.
'Tis thus, from warm and kindly hearts,
And eyes where generous meanings burn,
Earliest the light of life departs,
But lingers with the cold and stern.
poem by William Cullen Bryant
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