Spinning Rhymes
In winter crystal carpet spun
returns us right where we begun
when forests walked and talked on cue
still roots push through, greet promised sun.
When meadow beckons all should go
exploring glades they've yet to know,
discover shades of green and blue.
Why follow fallow furrow‘s woe ?
The meadow gentle? Time and place
for sunlight strive at rival pace, -
’spite sunlit face, bright spilling dew
heed spider warnings to man’s race.
Sun, sinking, bids the birds asleep
though thorny hedgehogs slowly creep
beside the brake where curlew flew
and cuckoo echoes echoed deep,
While trout still tipple in the deep.
calm nor alarm, nor timid peep,
awakens sleeping sheep who grew
content in sturdy shepherd’s keep.
Then lines from rest to test shall steep
on meadowsward inked page, tryst keep
to share sage secrets once we knew
before eyes veiled, lies more lies reap.
23 March 2005 response to Mary Ann King Meadow Moments see also Summer’s Day mosaic
slightly revised 10 January 2009
http: //allpoetry.com/poem/1098906
Meadow Moments
The meadow is a carpet spun
of flowers swaying in sun
where blue jay fly and rabbits run;
there in the meadow neath the sun.
The meadow beckons, I must go
retracing footprints that I know,
where columbine and mercies grow.
I walk in footprints that I know.
The meadow is a gentle place,
my heart is still, I feel His grace
as sunlight spills upon my face;
in warming rays I feel His grace.
And in the meadow moments sleep.
Neath silky streams, their secrets keep.
'Tis wisdom's fruit that they shall reap,
then secrets they'll no longer keep.
Mary Ann King 4 March 2005
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Related quotes
In The Meadow
I asked the silver one on one
Tell me who I am
Lines on your finger says
You wouldnt understand
I asked the silver one on one
Tell me whats the score
Lies on your picture says
You wouldnt need much more
In the meadow
I asked oblivion just for fun
Tell me what to say
Climb up the mountain boy
And look the other way
I asked a million questions
Of the world I want to be
And the signs I remember
Whos the one they got to me
In the meadow,
Looking for life in the world
Everythings fine
In the meadow
Ceilings so high
Life might be listening
So we better take our time
We asked a wonder one on one
Please tell me what to be
Call down the miracles
And save yourself for me
We asked a river one on one
Please tell me what you see
I see forever
And it looks like you and me
In the meadow
Looking for life in the world
Everythings fine
In the meadow
Ceilings so high
Life might be listening
So we better take our time
In the meadow
Looking for life in the world
In the meadow
Everythings fine
In the meadow
Ceilings so high
Life might be listening
So we better take our time
In the meadow
In the meadow
Looking for life
In the meadow
Feeling so fine
In the meadow
Seeming so high
Life might be listening
Life might be listening
So we better take our time
In the meadow
song performed by by Men Without Hats
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Across the Meadow
Across the meadow
Across the sea
Their life is brighter
Their life you should see
Across the meadow
Across the sea
Their leader so sagacious
To there, why don't we flee?
Across the meadow
Across the sea
Life is greener on the other side
Same goes for the village
Across the meadow and across the sea
Close your eyes, and then you will see
poem by Solomon Crane
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Attraction
The meadow and the mountain with desire
Gazed on each other, till a fierce unrest
Surged ‘neath the meadow’s seemingly calm breast,
And all the mountain’s fissures ran with fire.
A mighty river rolled between them there.
What could the mountain do but gaze and burn?
What could the meadow do but look and yearn,
And gem its bosom to conceal despair?
Their seething passion agitated space,
Till lo! the lands a sudden earthquake shook,
The river fled: the meadow leaped, and took
The leaning mountain in a close embrace.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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In The Meadow - What In The Meadow?
In the meadow - what in the meadow?
Bluebells, buttercups, meadowsweet,
And fairy rings for the children's feet
In the meadow.
In the garden - what in the garden?
Jacob's-ladder and Solomon's-seal,
And Love-lies-bleeding beside All-heal
In the garden.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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The First Noel / When The Meadow Was Bloomin'
(Instrumental)
In April weather
when the meadow was bloomin'
we walk together
to the top of the hill
upon the clover
when the meadow was bloomin'
we dreamed together
just us true lovers will
but summer flies on
far across the horizon
and winter lies on
over the valley and hills
do you remember
when the meadow was bloomin'
in bleak December
do you think of me still
but summer flies on
far across the horizon
and winter lies on
over the valley and hills
do you remember
when the meadow was bloomin'
in bleak December
do you think of me still
do you remember
just as I always will
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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0010 A day, a meadow, a miracle
This is the meadow.
It slopes from bright South
down to the West and North
from the primroses in the southern hedge
down through the violets, sometimes white,
in the western hedge tipping down
to the rabbit warren and
down to the wild garlic
in perpetual shadow in the northern ditch
shouting among the nettles
this is where, each morning in May,
the world is made anew;
there are more wild flowers in this meadow
than you’ll ever see together –
cowslips, oxslips, pink mayflowers,
wild orchids, red scabious,
yellow celandines, clover, cuckoo-pint...
and as the sun curves slowly round,
and the shadow moves aside,
the flowers, saturated with the morning dew,
shine each with a crystal drop
and it’s not until you step among them
and a small cloud of moths and butterflies rise up,
that you see the meadow is so full of life,
sipping its daily bread of dew
and in an hour or so, pollen, honey;
every day this meadow
invites, invents anew
words fresh as dew –
joy, constancy, innocence,
love, freedom, rest,
wonder, praise, and gratitude –
if every day this miracle,
what of tomorrow
and the heart?
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Early Morning Breeze
I open up my door to greet the early morning sun
Closing it behind me and away I do run
To the meadow where the meadow lark is singing in the tree
In the meadow I go walking in the early morning breeze
I cup my hands to catch a multi-colored butterfly
Perched upon the petals of flowers growing wild
Freeing it I watch it as it flies away from me
To visit with the flowers in the early morning breeze
Chorus:
Rainbow colored flowers kissed with early morning sun
The aster and the dahlia and wild geraniums
Drops of morning due still linger on the iris leaves
In the meadow where Im walking in the early morning breeze
Misty-eyed I look about the meadow where I stray
For its there I find the courage to greet the coming day
For there among the flowers I kneel gently to my knees
To have a word with God in the early mornig breeze
2nd chorus:
A rainbow colored meadow kissed with early morning sun
The aster and the dahlia and wild geraniums
Drops of morning due still linger on the iris leaves
In the meadow where Im walking in the early morning breez
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Somewhere
Somewhere, somewhere in the sunlight lies our love
Somewhere on the winter wind i can hear you again
In our dreams we touch in the rain
Somewhere we can run to hide from the pain.
Maybe with the stars up above
The twinkling of your eye meets mine
Somewhere in summer meadow we kiss again
Where we walked our lovers' lane.
Somewhere by the passion of the sea footprints remain
Where i wait to see your face
Sunlight through grey
Holding you again- one day.
poem by Kevin East
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Pirate Story
Three of us afloat in the meadow by the swing,
Three of us abroad in the basket on the lea.
Winds are in the air, they are blowing in the spring,
And waves are on the meadow like the waves there are at sea.
Where shall we adventure, to-day that we're afloat,
Wary of the weather and steering by a star?
Shall it be to Africa, a-steering of the boat,
To Providence, or Babylon or off to Malabar?
Hi! but here's a squadron a-rowing on the sea--
Cattle on the meadow a-charging with a roar!
Quick, and we'll escape them, they're as mad as they can be,
The wicket is the harbour and the garden is the shore.
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
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The Peace You Give Me
A gentle breeze is blowing through my hair,
When sitting on this green meadow with you,
Those throbbing moments hugging me,
Your deep brown eyes caressing me,
Made my heart beats forget the pain of love.
poem by Cristina Teodor
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Queen Of The Meadow
I think the leaves have chosen, my brave friend.
They patch the old roof with their berry blue.
I taste our epitaph in chimney smoke.
Queen of the meadow, where has August gone?
Queen Of The Meadow is a wildflower that comes and goes with August.
poem by Sandra Fowler
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Törnfallet
There is a meadow in Sweden
where I lie smitten,
eyes stained with clouds'
white ins and outs.
And about that meadow
roams my widow
plaiting a clover
wreath for her lover.
I took her in marriage
in a granite parish.
The snow lent her whiteness,
a pine was a witness.
She'd swim in the oval
lake whose opal
mirror, framed by bracken,
felt happy broken.
And at night the stubborn
sun of her auburn
hair shone from my pillow
at post and pillar.
Now in the distance
I hear her descant. She sings "Blue Swallow,"
but I can't follow.
The evening shadow
robs the meadow
of width and color.
It's getting colder.
As I lie dying
here, I'm eyeing
stars.Here's Venus;
no one between us.
poem by Joseph Brodsky
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Tornfallet
There is a meadow in Sweden
where I lie smitten,
eyes stained with clouds'
white ins and outs.
And about that meadow
roams my widow
plaiting a clover
wreath for her lover.
I took her in marriage
in a granite parish.
The snow lent her whiteness,
a pine was a witness.
She'd swim in the oval
lake whose opal
mirror, framed by bracken,
felt happy, broken.
And at night the stubborn
sun of her auburn
hair shone from my pillow
at post and pillar.
Now in the distance
I hear her descant.
She sings "Blue Swallow,"
but I can't follow.
The evening shadow
robs the meadow
of width and color.
It's getting colder.
As I lie dying
here, I'm eyeing
stars. Here's Venus;
no one between us.
poem by Joseph Brodsky
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The sun and I
On a moonlit night
There was no light.
By the meadow the sun lay.
He sat on the grass and spent his past, grazing on hay.
I walked up the slope in the the fifth avenue and lay by the stream
By then on the meadow the sun was into play.
I sat down and began to talk to the sun.
We lectured on and on about how to have fun.
When I was closing my eyes an amazing thing happened.
The sun rose up we wished each other farewell and he left.
Up in the sky by and by I think....
just maybe every time I passed by the sun he will just wink.
poem by Tapira Ashburton
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The Urge For Going
I woke up today and found snow perched on the ground
It hovered in a frozen sky and gobbled summer down
So when the leaves were trembling
Frozen trees were standing in a lonely row
I get the urge for going but I never seem to go
And I get the urge for going when the meadow grass is turning brown
And summertime is falling down and winter's moving in
I had a love in summertime with summer-colored skin
And not another one in town my darling's heart could win
But when the sky turned traitor cold
And bully winds did rub their noses in the snow
She got the urge for going and I had to let her go
And she got the urge for going when the meadow grass was turning brown
Summertime was falling down and winter's moving in
The warriors of winter gave a cold triumphant shout
Now all that dies is staying and all that lives is getting out
See the geese in chevron flight
Flurrying and flapping through the naked sky
They got the urge for going
They've got the wings to fly
They get the urge for going when the meadow grass is turning brown
And summertime is falling down and winter's moving in
I'll ply the fire with kindling and pull the blankets to my chin
I'll lock the vagrant winter out and bolt my wandering in
I'd like to call back summertime
And ask her just to stay another month or so
But she got the urge for going
I guess she'll have to go
And she got the urge for going when the meadow grass was turning brown
Summertime is falling down and winter's moving in
And she got the urge for going when the meadow grass was turning brown
All my empires are fallen down and winter's moving in
song performed by by Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Flowers in Meadows
A meadow with flower bed a breath taking sight
giving feeling of
nature is still there to give awesome feeling of our life
taking away all stress,
air there is as fresh as dew drops on flower bed,
green leaves move to sing a song to be heard as well.
butterfly in flowers filling if anything left for sight,
lucky to have,
moments precious to be treasured for life time,
A meadow with flower bed is itself a world knowing true meaning of goodness and best.
poem by Hemu Gupta
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Autumn Crocuses
The meadow is poisonous but pretty in the autumn
The cows that graze there are slowly poisoned
Meadow-saffron the colour of lilac and of shadows
Under the eyes grows there your eyes are like those flowers
Mauve as their shadows and mauve as this autumn
And for your eyes' sake my life is slowly poisoned
Children from school come with their commotion
Dressed in smocks and playing the mouth-organ
Picking autumn crocuses which are like their mothers
Daughters of their daughters and the colour of your eyelids
Which flutter like flowers in the mad breeze blown
The cowherd sings softly to himself all alone
While slow moving lowing the cows leave behind them
Forever this great meadow ill flowered by autumn
poem by Guillaume Apollinaire
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A Day
Written by john curulewski
Lead vocals by john curulewski
Woke up in rainy autumn
Morning mist beginning to wane
And the birds of the winged trees
Calling my name
Care less the clouds above me
The wind is gently lifting my hair
Where the rivers of the wind fall light rain
Now stand bare
Listen to the flowing streams
Golden in the shelter of my dreams
Playing a song on the meadow that echoes with love
Walk alone through the garden
The leaves are wet with mornings tear
And the whispering of someone
Is drawing me near
Content to rest awhile
Pondering the motion of time
Over unforgotten memories
Dipped in wine
Listen to the flowing streams
Golden in the shelter of my dreams
Playing a song on the meadow that echoes with love
[extended instrumental solos]
The God of dusk is falling around me
The night air now restless and dank
Yet the fields are specked with flowers
Few and rank
Moon reflecting off the water
Rippling an image to me
Of the way that it is
And the way that its going to be
Listen to the flowing streams
Golden in the shelter of my dreams
Playing a song on the meadow that echoes with love
song performed by by Styx
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Danny Boy
The valley is hushed
The flowers are all dying
The meadow is white with the winter snow
Lord as I stand at the place where daddies lying
I say a silent prayer and somehow I know
He hears me there, though soft I tread above him
So now he sleeps in peace
His danny boys come home
................. the pipes the pipe are calling
From glen to glen and down the moutainside
The summers gone and all the leaves are falling
Its you, its you must go and I must bide
O come ye back when the sun shines on the meadow
Or when the valleys hushed and white with snow
For Ill be here in sunshine or in shadow
Oh danny boy, oh danny boy I love you so
I close my eyes and still I can see
Him standing there on the hill
Tears filled his eyes as he waved goodbye to me
I cant forget, I guess I never will
He said, the valley is hushed
The flowers are all dying
The meadow is white with the winter snow
Come find the place
Where you know that Ill be lying
Say a silent prayer
So Ill know
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Cow
The friendly cow all red and white,
I love with all my heart:
She gives me cream with all her might,
To eat with apple-tart.
She wanders lowing here and there,
And yet she cannot stray,
All in the pleasant open air,
The pleasant light of day;
And blown by all the winds that pass
And wet with all the showers,
She walks among the meadow grass
And eats the meadow flowers.
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
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