Thrilling Throat Trills Dream Theme after Beth St. Clair For Keats
Soft summer zephyr wafts Keats' Nightingale
along time's rhyme line, on no midnight sleeps,
Tree Dryad's tune sends tremors up, down dale,
harmonics' sweet eternal wonder keeps.
'Sull'aria', soft canzonetta's call,
runs through the gamut of emotions' range,
as 'soave zefiretto' trembles, held in thrall
as siren song on perilous seas full strange.
Through woven word worlds lovers from the past
still celebrate angelic serenade,
whose haunting chords undaunted by time's blast
ignore farewells despite life's cavalcade.
Each note outreaches generation gaps
as thrilling throat trills dream theme which won't lapse.
(21 May 2012)
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Grey Thrush at the Door
'Swe-e-et! Swe-e-et!' Low at first and flattering,
Full of soft seductiveness on a wheedling note.
Who comes in mercy now, crumbs of comfort scattering
For a grey bird pleading from a cold, cold throat?
Just a thread of tallow-fat, just a scrap of meat!
Grey thrush is at the door. 'Swe-e-et! Swe-e-et!'
Grey bird, friendly bird, merry bird in summer time,
For summer is a merry time, full of tuneful mirth.
Sunny days are singing days. But winter is a glummer time
With lean days of scant fare; frost has locked the earth.
Song goes as sun goes, and harshly drives the sleet.
Where comes the almoner? 'Swe-e-et! Swe-e-et!'
'Sweet! Sweet!' Now it grows imperious:
A short call, a loud call, impatience in its tone.
Why am I left lingering? See, my plight is serious.
A poor bird all forlorn, starving and alone.
Grey Thrush is a-hungering, begging scraps to eat.
It's far beyond my breakfast time! 'Sweet! Sweet!'
Now a footstep on the floor. Now a sudden fluttering,
And Grey Thrush is waiting there beside the open door.
Kookaburra cocks an eye; greedily he's muttering;
But grey bird is first to swoop upon the proffered store,
A scrap of song in gratitude, then up, and off, away.
And the mendicant has vanished till another frosty day.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Paraphrase Of Heine
(LYRIC INTERMEZZO)
There fell a star from realms above--
A glittering, glorious star to see!
Methought it was the star of love,
So sweetly it illumined me.
And from the apple branches fell
Blossoms and leaves that time in June;
The wanton breezes wooed them well
With soft caress and amorous tune.
The white swan proudly sailed along
And vied her beauty with her note--
The river, jealous of her song,
Threw up its arms to clasp her throat.
But now--oh, now the dream is past--
The blossoms and the leaves are dead,
The swan's sweet song is hushed at last,
And not a star burns overhead.
poem by Eugene Field
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If You Prove True...
Voice within responds to harmony,
as one where two divided waste away.
Life, rainbow dewdropp of divinity,
each moment doubly precious as Time’s ray
reveals a rhyme surpassing day-to-day.
If you prove true each month as May may be,
each breath a benediction’s passion play,
dreams coinciding with reality
to highlight all mankind’s epitome.
Victim of soft eyes here owns their sway,
in joy accepts Love’s offering, would see
like blessing fall to all about our way.
Now trembling, on Time’s threshold, hopes await
expectantly soft verdict on glad fate.
If You Prove Mirage...
Vice? Or virtue wrecked on coral reef?
As voice within awakes to siren call
like shipwrecked sailor, he feels trapped, yet all
enchanted by soft smile and song to grief,
respond to sweetness’ thrall beyond belief.
If you prove mirage every moment’s gall,
each hope turns ashes, dream sunk sans recall,
Love travesty and yet, like Life too brief.
If you prove mirage Lethe’d be relief
existence senseless, journey's wherewithal
doomed to tomb, as Adam’s fearful fall.
Sorrow infinite, light dark, Time, cheating thief.
Now trembling, on Time’s threshold, fears await
in trepidation verdict on sad fate.
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Seasonable Retour-Knell
SEASONABLE RETOUR KNELL
Variations on a theme...
SEASONABLE ROUND ROBIN ROLE REVERSALS
Author notes
A mirrored Retourne may not only be read either from first line to last or from last to first as seen in the mirrors, but also by inverting the first and second phrase of each line, either rhyming AAAA or ABAB for each verse. thus the number of variations could be multiplied several times.- two variations on the theme have been included here but could have been extended as in SEASONABLE ROUND ROBIN ROLE REVERSALS robi03_0069_robi03_0000
In respect of SEASONABLE ROUND ROBIN ROLE REVERSALS
This composition has sought to explore linguistic potential. Notes and the initial version are placed before rather than after the poem.
Six variations on a theme have been selected out of a significant number of mathematical possibilities using THE SAME TEXT and a reverse mirror for each version. Mirrors repeat the seasons with the lines in reverse order.
For the second roll the first four syllables of each line are reversed, and sense is retained both in the normal order of seasons and the reversed order as well... The 3rd and 4th variations offer ABAB rhyme schemes retaining the original text. The 5th and 6th variations modify the text into rhyming couplets.
Given the linguistical structure of this symphonic composition the score could be read in inversing each and every line and each and every hemistitch. There are minor punctuation differences between versions.
One could probably attain sonnet status for each of the four seasons and through partioning in 3 groups of 4 syllables extend the possibilites ad vitam.
Seasonable Round Robin Roll Reversals
robi03_0069_robi03_0000 QXX_DNZ
Seasonable Retour-Knell
robi03_0070_robi03_0069 QXX_NXX
26 March 1975 rewritten 20070123
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For previous version see below
_______________________________________
SPRING SUMMER
Life is at ease Young lovers long
Land under plough; To hold their dear;
Whispering trees, Dewdrops among,
Answering cow. Bold, know no fear.
Blossom, the bees, Life full of song,
Burgeoning bough; Cloudless and clear;
Soft-scented breeze, Days fair and long,
Spring warms life now. Summer sends cheer.
AUTUMN WINTER
Each leaf decays, Harvested sheaves
Each life must bow; And honeyed hives;
Our salad days Trees stripped of leaves,
Are ending now. Jack Frost has knives.
Fruit heavy lays Time, Prince of thieves,
Bending the bough, - Onward he drives,
Autumn dismays, While Winter grieves
Sun drifting down. Over our lives.
26 March 1975
Enjoy!
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Seasonable Retour-Knell I
Spring burgeons, breeze blows blossom, bees,
Summer sends cheer, days fair and long,
Autumn displays sunsets which wow,
White Winter grieves over our lives.
Summer sends cheer, days fair and long,
cloudless and clear, life full of song.
To draw dear near, young lovers long,
sure, know no fear, symphony strong.
Autumn displays sunsets which wow,
fruit heavy lays bending the bough,
each leaf decays, each life must bow,
Fall’s salad days all ending now.
White Winter grieves over our lives.
Harvested sheaves, hibernate hives,
Trees stripped of leaves, Jack Frost has knives.
Time, Prince of thieves, onward he drives.
____ _____ ___
Time, Prince of thieves, onward he drives.
Trees stripped of leaves, Jack Frost has knives.
Harvested sheaves, hibernate hives,
White Winter grieves over our lives.
Fall’s salad days all ending now,
each leaf decays, each life must bow,
fruit heavy lays bending the bough,
Autumn displays sunsets which wow.
Sure know no fear, symphony strong,
to draw dear near, young lovers long.
Cloudless and clear, life full of song,
Summer sends cheer, days fair and long.
White Winter grieves over our lives.
Autumn displays sunsets which wow,
Summer sends cheer, days fair and long,
Spring burgeons, breeze blows blossom, bees …
lllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll lllllllllll
Seasonable Retour-Knell II
Spring burgeons, breeze blows blossom, bees,
days fair and long, Summer sends cheer.
Autumn displays sunsets which wow,
Over our lives white Winter grieves.
Summer sends cheer, days fair and long,
life full of song, cloudless and clear,
To draw dear near, young lovers long, -
symphony strong - sure, know no fear.
Autumn displays sunsets which wow,
bending the bough, fruit heavy lays.
each leaf decays, each life must bow,
all ending now Fall’s salad days.
White Winter grieves over our lives.
hibernate hives, Harvested sheaves,
trees stripped of leaves, - Jack Frost has knives.
Onward he drives, Time, Prince of thieves.
____ _____ ___
Onward he drives, Time, Prince of thieves.
Trees stripped of leaves, - Jack Frost has knives.
Hibernate hives, Harvested sheaves,
White Winter grieves over our lives.
All ending now, Fall’s salad days.
Each leaf decays, each life must bow,
bending the bough, fruit heavy lays.
Autumn displays sunsets which wow.
Sure know no fear, symphony strong,
young lovers long to draw dear near,
Cloudless and clear, life full of song,
days fair and long, Summer sends cheer.
White Winter grieves over our lives.
Autumn displays sunsets which wow,
Summer sends cheer, days fair and long,
Spring burgeons, breeze blows blossom, bees …
.
© Jonathan Robin 25 January 2007
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SEASONABLE ROUND ROBIN ROLE REVERSALS
Seasonable Role Reversal Part I
Life is at ease, land under plough
whispers, receives free-grazing cow.
Spring wave-wakes tree’s burgeoning bough,
soft-scented breeze, bees, blossom, now.
Summer sends cheer, days fair and long,
cloudless and clear, life full of song.
To draw dear near, young lovers long,
sure, know no fear, symphony strong.
Each leaf decays, each life must bow,
Fall’s salad days all ending now.
Fruit heavy lays bending the bough,
Autumn displays sunsets which wow.
Harvested sheaves, hibernate hives,
trees stripped of leaves, Jack Frost has knives.
Time, Prince of thieves, onward he drives,
white Winter grieves over our lives.
_ _ _ _ _
White Winter grieves over our lives.
Time, Prince of thieves, onward he drives.
trees stripped of leaves, Jack Frost has knives.
Harvested sheaves, hibernate hives.
Autumn displays sunsets which wow.
Fruit heavy lays bending the bough.
Fall’s salad days all ending now,
Each leaf decays, each life must bow.
Sure, know no fear, - symphony strong -
to draw dear near, young lovers long,
Cloudless and clear, life full of song.
Summer sends cheer, days fair and long.
Soft-scented breeze, bees, blossom, now,
Spring wave-wakes tree’s burgeoning bough
whispers, receives free-grazing cow.
Life is at ease, land under plough.
lllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll llllllllll
Seasonable Role Reversal Part II
Land under plough, Life is at ease,
free-grazing cow whispers receives.
Burgeoning bough, Spring wave-wakes trees.
Bees, blossom; Now, soft-scented breeze.
Days fair and long, Summer sends cheer,
life full of song, cloudless and clear,
Young lovers long to draw dear near, -
symphony strong - sure, know no fear.
Each life must bow, each leaf decays,
All ending now. Fall’s salad days,
bending the bough, fruit heavy lays.
Sunsets which wow Autumn displays.
Hibernate hives, harvested sheaves,
Jack Frost has knives. Trees stripped of leaves.
Onward he drives, Time, Prince of thieves,
over our lives, white Winter grieves.
_ _ _ _ _ _
Over our lives white Winter grieves,
onward he drives, Time, Prince of thieves,
Jack Frost has knives. Trees stripped of leaves,
Hibernate hives, harvested sheaves.
Sunsets which wow Autumn displays.
Bending the bough, fruit heavy lays,
all ending now, Fall’s salad days.
Each life must bow, each leaf decays.
Symphony strong - sure know no fear –
young lovers long to draw dear near.
Life full of song, cloudless and clear,
days fair and long, Summer sends cheer.
Bees, blossom. Now, soft-scented breeze,
burgeoning bough, Spring wave-wakes trees.
Free-grazing cow whispers receives.
Land under plough, Life is at ease.
lllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll lllllllllll
Seasonable Role Reversal Part III
Life is at ease, land under plough,
free-grazing cow whispers, receives.
Spring wave-wakes tree’s burgeoning bough,
bees, blossom, now, soft-scented breeze.
Summer sends cheer, days fair and long,
life full of song cloudless and clear.
To draw dear near, young lovers long, -
symphony strong sure, - know no fear.
Each leaf decays, each life must bow,
All ending now, Fall’s salad days.
Fruit heavy lays bending the bough,
Sunsets which wow Autumn displays.
Harvested sheaves, hibernate hives,
Jack Frost has knives, trees stripped of leaves.
Time, Prince of thieves, onward he drives,
over our lives white Winter grieves.
_ _ _ _ _ _
Over our lives white Winter grieves.
Time, Prince of thieves, onward he drives.
Jack Frost has knives, trees stripped of leaves.
Harvested sheaves, hibernate hives.
Sunsets which wow Autumn displays.
Fruit heavy lays bending the bough.
All ending now, Fall’s salad days,
Each leaf decays, each life must bow.
Symphony strong. Sure, know no fear,
to draw dear near, young lovers long.
Life full of song cloudless and clear,
Summer sends cheer, days fair and long.
.
Bees, blossom, now, soft-scented breeze.
Spring wave-wakes tree’s burgeoning bough.
Free-grazing cow whispers, receives.
Life is at ease land under plough.
llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll llllllllllllllllll
Seasonable Role Reversal Part IV
Land under plough, life is at ease,
whispers receives free-grazing cow
Spring wave-wakes trees, burgeoning bough,
soft-scented breeze Bees, blossom, - now.
Days fair and long, Summer sends cheer,
cloudless and clear, life full of song,
Young lovers long to draw dear near,
sure, know no fear, - symphony strong.
Each life must bow, each leaf decays,
Fall’s salad days all ending now.
Bending the bough, fruit heavy lays.
Autumn displays sunsets which wow.
Hibernate hives, harvested sheaves,
Jack Frost has knives. Trees stripped of leaves.
Onward he drives, Time, Prince of thieves,
over our lives, white Winter grieves.
_ _ _ _ _ _
Over our lives white Winter grieves
onward he drives, Time, Prince of thieves,
Jack Frost has knives. Trees stripped of leaves,
Hibernate hives, harvested sheaves.
Autumn displays sunsets which wow.
Bending the bough, fruit heavy lays, -
Fall’s salad days all ending now.
Each life must bow, each leaf decays.
Sure, know no fear, - symphony strong -
young lovers long to draw dear near.
Cloudless and clear, life full of song,
Days fair and long, Summer sends cheer.
Soft-scented breeze, bees, blossom, now,
Spring wave-wakes trees, burgeoning bough.
Whispers receives free-grazing cow.
Land under plough, life is at ease.
lllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll lllllllllll
Seasonable Role Reversal Part V
Life is at ease, soft-scented breeze
whispers, receives. Spring wave-wakes tree’s
burgeoning bough. Bees, blossom, now.
Land under plough, free-grazing cow.
Summer sends cheer, cloudless and clear.
Sure, know no fear, to draw dear near,
young lovers long symphony strong.
Life full of song, days fair and long.
Autumn displays Fall’s salad days.
Each leaf decays, fruit heavy lays
bending the bough, each life must bow,
Sunsets which wow all ending now.
Harvested sheaves, trees stripped of leaves,
White Winter grieves. Time, Prince of thieves,
onward he drives over our lives.
Hibernate hives. Jack Frost has knives.
_ _ _ _ _
Hibernate hives. Jack Frost has knives,
onward he drives over our lives.
White Winter grieves Time, Prince of thieves.
Harvested sheaves, trees stripped of leaves.
Sunsets which wow all ending now.
bending the bough, each life must bow,
Each leaf decays, fruit heavy lays
Autumn displays Fall’s salad days.
Life full of song, days fair and long.
Young lovers long symphony strong.
sure, know no fear to draw dear near.
Summer sends cheer, cloudless and clear.
Life is at ease, soft-scented breeze.
Land under plough, free-grazing cow,
burgeoning bough, bees. Blossom now
whispers, receives. Spring wave-wakes trees.
lllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll lllllllllllllllll
Seasonable Role Reversal Part VI
Bees, blossom, now, burgeoning bough,
free-grazing cow, land under plough.
Spring wave-wakes trees, whispers, receives,
life is at ease, soft-scented breeze.
Cloudless and clear, Summer sends cheer.
To draw dear near, sure, know no fear,
symphony strong young lovers long.
Days fair and long, life full of song.
All ending now - sunsets which wow -
each life must bow. Bending the bough,
fruit heavy lays. Each leaf decays.
Fall’s salad days Autumn displays.
Jack Frost has knives, onward he drives
over our lives. Hibernate hives,
trees stripped of leaves, harvested sheaves.
Time, Prince of thieves. White Winter grieves.
_ _ _ _ _
Time, Prince of thieves! White Winter grieves -
trees stripped of leaves, harvested sheaves -
over our lives. Hibernate hives.
Jack Frost has knives, onward he drives.
Fall’s salad days Autumn displays.
Fruit heavy lays, each leaf decays,
each life must bow bending the bough.
All ending now sunsets which wow.
Days fair and long, life full of song,
symphony strong - young lovers long
to draw dear near, sure, know no fear.
Cloudless and clear, Summer sends cheer.
Life is at ease, soft-scented breeze,
Spring wave-wakes trees, whispers, receives.
Free-grazing cow, land under plough,
bees, blossom, now, burgeoning bough.
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poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Summer Lovers
Clasp the blue sky and sea so free
These sweet angels smile for all
She is immortal myth and soft dreams
Romance is the garden before the fall
Forests blossom with deep green pride
The rain has made the rivers swell
Moonlight shines on her face and eyes
Love is water from the deepest well
Isn't passion made for the heart?
Spring becomes summers bloom
Love cannot begin without a start
Hear the robin and cardinals tune
Deep streams of mystic water flow
Sacred ground, promises are made
Dappled sunlight, lily pads grow
Timeless poems never wilt or fade
Touched by immortal roses of red
Kisses like honey from a tree of love
Silky stars serenade a heavenly bed
Song birds bring a song from above
Lovers are wild flowers on a magic night
Waves glisten with moonlight glow
Morning dances with joy and delight
Summer lovers reach each others soul
What would life be without summer lovers?
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ballad of Joe and Satchong
There's a lady from the orient sea
Such winsome lady and lovely
With her voice so sweet to hear
Melodious within the wind zephyr
A sweet rhythmic sound like a song
A pleasing tune of such song
That enchanted this fellow
And made his heart glow
Ah - lovely voice, said Joe
That encourage him to go
Or search for that voice
That makes his heart rejoice
He followed the gentle breeze
Across Atlantic and Pacific seas
As the ocean waves and rolls
He goes on with the gentle breeze with goals
In the air is the song for Joe
That makes his heart glow
And search that voice
That makes his soul rejoice
So within the breeze is the song
Said Joe, Oh what a lovely song
And so melodious voice
That makes my heart rejoice
He continue to follow gentle breeze
Across Atlantic and Pacific seas
There in the orient sea he found that such song
is from the lovely lady named Satchong
With the little winged Cherubim
Coveted them and their love woven
Their love are like in the air
Life like the gentle wind zephyr
'til now their love so sweet like a song
With this couple Joe and Satchong
So blessed with bright lifetime
So solid maybe until the end of time
poem by Ency Bearis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Offering As An Ignorant
The tune
You tuned
At the time
Of my birth
Cryingly I find
To harmonize
My living
My love
My journey
To make its end
The tune
You tuned
I listen in the wind
The dream sends the signal
Yet the life the present the past
The seeker I ever unrest
Unsettled to synchronize
Me with the chariot
The rein you hold
Yourself yet to path unending
After death
After...after....
The song I have to sung
For the final return!
Pranab k c
21/06/2012
poem by Pranab K. Chakraborty
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To a Robin in November
Sweet, sweet and the soft listening heaven reels
In one blue ecstasy above thy song
In the red heart of all the opening year,
In the hushed murmur of low dreaming fields
Hung under heaven ’twixt dim blue and blue;
Where the young Summer, purpled and pearled in dew,
Mirrors herself in June, and knows no wrong.
Sweet, sweet, throwing thy lack of fear
Back to the heart of God, till heaven feels
The throbbing of earth’s music through and through.
Dreaming in song,—great pulsing-hearted hills,
Cradling the dawn in mists and purple veils
Of vapors, over pearls of lakes and brooks
Girdled about the neck of half the world,
When the red birth of the young dreaming June
Kisses the lands with gales, and murmurs, and trills
Of melody, lips that blossom with tales
Of music and color and form and beauty of looks
And snowy argosies in heaven furled,
All summer set to one sweet warbled tune.
And thou, red-throated, comest back to me
Here in the bare November bleak and chill,
Breathing the red-ripe of the lusty June
Over the rime of withered field and mere;
O heart of music, while I dream of thee,
Thou gladdest note in the dead Summer’s tune,
Great God! thou liest dead outside my sill,
Starved of the last chill berry on thy tree,
Like some sweet instrument left all unstrung,
The melodious orchestra of all the year.
Dead with the sweet dead summer thou had’st sung;
Dead with the dead year’s voices and clasp of hands;
Dead with all music and love and laughter and light;
While chilly and bleak comes up the winter night,
And shrieks the gust across the leafless lands.
poem by William Wilfred Campbell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ode To A Nightingale
My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains
My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk,
Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains
One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk:
'Tis not through envy of thy happy lot,
But being too happy in thy happiness,---
That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees,
In some melodious plot
Of beechen green, and shadows numberless,
Singest of summer in full-throated ease.
O for a draught of vintage, that hath been
Cooled a long age in the deep-delved earth,
Tasting of Flora and the country green,
Dance, and Provencal song, and sun-burnt mirth!
O for a beaker full of the warm South,
Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene,
With beaded bubbles winking at the brim,
And purple-stained mouth;
That I might drink, and leave the world unseen,
And with thee fade away into the forest dim:
Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget
What thou among the leaves hast never known,
The weariness, the fever, and the fret
Here, where men sit and hear each other groan;
Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs,
Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies;
Where but to think is to be full of sorrow
And leaden-eyed despairs;
Where beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes,
Or new love pine at them beyond tomorrow.
Away! away! for I will fly to thee,
Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards,
But on the viewless wings of Poesy,
Though the dull brain perplexes and retards:
Already with thee! tender is the night,
And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne,
Clustered around by all her starry fays;
But here there is no light,
Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown
Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways.
I cannot see what flowers are at my feet,
Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs,
But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet
Wherewith the seasonable month endows
The grass, the thicket, and the fruit-tree wild;
White hawthorn, and the pastoral eglantine;
Fast-fading violets covered up in leaves;
And mid-May's eldest child,
The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine,
The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves.
Darkling I listen; and for many a time
I have been half in love with easeful Death,
Called him soft names in many a mused rhyme,
To take into the air my quiet breath;
Now more than ever seems it rich to die,
To cease upon the midnight with no pain,
While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad
In such an ecstasy!
Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain---
To thy high requiem become a sod
Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird!
No hungry generations tread thee down;
The voice I hear this passing night was heard
In ancient days by emperor and clown:
Perhaps the self-same song that found a path
Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home,
She stood in tears amid the alien corn;
The same that oft-times hath
Charmed magic casements, opening on the foam
Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn.
Forlorn! the very word is like a bell
To toll me back from thee to my sole self!
Adieu! the fancy cannot cheat so well
As she is famed to do, deceiving elf.
Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades
Past the near meadows, over the still stream,
Up the hill-side; and now 'tis buried deep
In the next valley-glades:
Was it a vision, or a waking dream?
Fled is that music:---do I wake or sleep?
poem by John Keats
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Now Is A Good Time
Now is a time to say to someone I love you
When you see him or she
Now is a good time to celebrate who you were born to be
Now is the good time to say forgiveness to someone that you hurt in the past and move on with your life
Now is a good time to put money for your retirement away
So you can have a pension
Now it is a good time to learn to love yourself
Now it is a good time to discover what you love to do
Now it is a good time to worship God
Now it is a good time to pray for the people of the world
Now it is a good time to lend a hand in the community
Now it is a good time to write your feelings in your note book
Now it is a good time to plant the seeds in the garden so that they Come up during the summer
Now it is a good time to celebrate life
poem by Aldo Kraas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Nightingale
(jude johnstone)
Yesterday I thought that I walked alone
And that love was just a memory
But a nightingale followed me back home
And my love was waiting there for me
I had lost my faith as lovers often do
When the storm clouds gather overhead
But the nightingale sang a note so true
That I knew Id lost my fear instead
And to think that I said love was for fools
And that time would never heal these old wounds
But the nightingale saved a prayer for me
In the twilight he played a faithful tune
I have heard the lark over in the vale
And Ive heard the lonesome whippoorwill
But the sweetest song is the nightingales
And I know Ill never get my fill
song performed by by Trisha Yearwood
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Midnight Train
The Midnight Train to nowhere is boarding-
My life-long luggage has already been brought on-
The tracks of non-mobility are ready and waiting-
To sings its droning railroad song;
Its quite catchy to the ears they tell me-
As the trains roars itself in place upon the tracks-
Bidding my final farewells to everyone-
Turning my head-with plans to never look back;
They say that this train will get you nowhere-
And you know i believe this to be true-
Non-riding the tracks-ignoring the facts-
I'm on my way back home to you;
You are at the end of my nowhere-
Been there for so very long-
Just biding your time with your prose and rhyme-
While i write this here Railroad Song;
Oh -the Midnight Train to nowhere is not flyin'-
In stationary movement upon its nowhere tracks-
Hummin' its Chatanooga Choo Choo melody-
And me-vowing never to look back;
Staying in one place-stationary-
Really movin' nowhere in real time-
Know that you are there waitin' on me-
Writin' your rhyme at the end of the line;
Just A Silly Poem.
June 22,2010
poem by Theodora Onken
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In Summer Time
When summer time has come, and all
The world is in the magic thrall
Of perfumed airs that lull each sense
To fits of drowsy indolence;
When skies are deepest blue above,
And flow'rs aflush,--then most I love
To start, while early dews are damp,
And wend my way in woodland tramp
Where forests rustle, tree on tree,
And sing their silent songs to me;
Where pathways meet and path ways part,--
To walk with Nature heart by heart,
Till wearied out at last I lie
Where some sweet stream steals singing by
A mossy bank; where violets vie
In color with the summer sky,--
Or take my rod and line and hook,
And wander to some darkling brook,
Where all day long the willows dream,
And idly droop to kiss the stream,
And there to loll from morn till night--
Unheeding nibble, run, or bite--
Just for the joy of being there
And drinking in the summer air,
The summer sounds, and summer sights,
That set a restless mind to rights
When grief and pain and raging doubt
Of men and creeds have worn it out;
The birds' song and the water's drone,
The humming bees' low monotone,
The murmur of the passing breeze,
And all the sounds akin to these,
That make a man in summer time
Feel only fit for rest and rhyme.
Joy springs all radiant in my breast;
Though pauper poor, than king more blest,
The tide beats in my soul so strong
That happiness breaks forth in song,
And rings aloud the welkin blue
With all the songs I ever knew.
O time of rapture! time of song!
How swiftly glide thy days along
Adown the current of the years,
Above the rocks of grief and tears!
'Tis wealth enough of joy for me
In summer time to simply be.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Sweet Suicide Senerade
Sweet
Suicide
Serenade
...................
Sweet
Suicide
Serenade
how you
came to be
The tune
that came
to me
whilst in
the depth
of my sadness
see?
I could not
hide the pain
The sorrow -
or deep shame
The tears that
fell that night,
extinguised the
brightest light
Now in
a tunnel
I despair
All alone upon
this earth
The morbid music
played,
as I sat down
and prayed
And so alone,
I sit
And yes, I
do admit
that life for
me had been
a nightmare -
not a dream
All my hopes
and fears,
all my
wasted years
are as of nothing -
what's to show?
Just a man
who will die alone?
Sweet
Suicide
Serenade
Serenade me
to my doom,
within an
empty room
I sit within
the gloom
Sweet
Suicide
Serenade
Plays the
final bars
Plays within
my head
I exit
life
and
welcome
death
And so
alone
I hang
in silence
swinging -
no one's hand
did I hold
that final night...
for no one ever
held me tight...
And so
alone
I hang
My body
swinging -
silhouette
Lifeless in
the living room
my shadow
cast upon
the step
And so
alone
I hang
yet only
within my head,
did I hear
the music play
Sweet
Suicide
Serenade
Copyright
{c} 2010
Wayne Leon Learmond
Sweet Suicide Serenade
All Rights Reserved
poem by Wayne Leon Learmond
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Spring
Sound the flute!
Now it’s mute.
Birds delight
Day and night;
Nightingale
In the dale,
Lark in sky,
Merrily,
Merrily, merrily, to welcome in the year.
Little boy,
Full of joy;
Little girl,
Sweet and small;
Cock does crow,
So do you;
Merry voice,
Infant noise,
Merrily, merrily, to welcome in the year.
Little lamb,
Here I am;
Come and lick
My white neck;
Let me pull
Your soft wool;
Let me kiss
Your soft face;
Merrily, merrily, we welcome in the year.
poem by William Blake from Songs of Innocence (1789)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Each and every feeling about love
Every page in the book of my life is filled with love for you
Each day takes me closer to its realization,
Every tree on the wayside sings the same tune to the wind
Each bird flying past makes my love immortal,
Every nomad I meet in my forward stride learns about my love
Each lover from the past reminds me that I’m not alone,
Every love god sends his arrow at some point of time
Each day that follows will be about love alone,
Every minute in your presence is like a lifetime of joy
Each time I’m born I am blessed with such eternal seconds,
Every song I have heard ever since echoes with volumes of lyrics
Each lyric is about your many qualities which stir me from sleep,
Every secret I preserve in me is about my love for you
Each branch of wayside palm trees swing to reveal my secrets,
Every harp I come across vibrates with the music of my memories
Each note forms the letters of your many names,
Every time I read these lines I will hope that you are listening
Each wave fails to carry the message I etch on sand, to your foreign shore.
poem by Abhay Vignesh Liginlal
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Call of the Sea
The call of the sea
haunts me wherever.
Beckoning coaxing
haunting ever haunting.
Soft as the voice of a siren
wafting on the wind.
Whispering in the waves
luring tempting.
On the beach.
Wet fingers of the surf
reaching pulling.
Ever patient ever persistent.
The salt seasoned wind
seeks me out.
It with temptation
subtly saturates my senses.
Only when I return
to the call of the sea.
Only when I answer
will it be silenced.
poem by Kurt Hearth
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Music: An Ode
WAS it light that spake from the darkness,
or music that shone from the word,
When the night was enkindled with sound
of the sun or the first-born bird?
Souls enthralled and entrammelled in bondage
of seasons that fall and rise,
Bound fast round with the fetters of flesh,
and blinded with light that dies,
Lived not surely till music spake,
and the spirit of life was heard.
Music, sister of sunrise, and herald of life to be,
Smiled as dawn on the spirit of man,
and the thrall was free.
Slave of nature and serf of time,
the bondman of life and death,
Dumb with passionless patience that breathed
but forlorn and reluctant breath,
Heard, beheld, and his soul made answer,
and communed aloud with the sea.
Morning spake, and he heard:
and the passionate silent noon
Kept for him not silence:
and soft from the mounting moon
Fell the sound of her splendour,
heard as dawn's in the breathless night,
Not of men but of birds whose note
bade man's soul quicken and leap to light:
And the song of it spake, and the light and the darkness
of earth were as chords in tune.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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In Cycle Spin
Winding down scene: see summer seeds, prepares,
Reeled thread which into orange autumn's haze
Inserts green flashes, golden sun ablaze,
To time out Time as Nature's rhyme repairs
Incessant outer change with range which wears
No temporal restraints, through phase to phase
Gads round mad clock to reclad life, amaze.
Delight writes round the seasons' round, all cares
Eliminated as soft zephyr spares
Longing sigh for former salad days.
In cycle spin our lives we paraphrase,
Glad, sad, bad, good, regret instant replays
Have little chance to dance imagination,
To feed seed's need to speed regeneration.
poem by Jonathan Robin
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July
I
Blue July, bright July,
Month of storms and gorgeous blue;
Violet lightnings o'er thy sky,
Heavy falls of drenching dew;
Summer crown! o'er glen and glade
Shrinking hyacinths in their shade;
I welcome thee with all thy pride,
I love thee like an Eastern bride.
Though all the singing days are done
As in those climes that clasp the sun;
Though the cuckoo in his throat
Leaves to the dove his last twin note;
Come to me with thy lustrous eye,
Golden-dawning oriently,
Come with all thy shining blooms,
Thy rich red rose and rolling glooms.
Though the cuckoo doth but sing 'cuk, cuk,'
And the dove alone doth coo;
Though the cushat spins her coo-r-roo, r-r-roo -
To the cuckoo's halting 'cuk.'
II
Sweet July, warm July!
Month when mosses near the stream,
Soft green mosses thick and shy,
Are a rapture and a dream.
Summer Queen! whose foot the fern
Fades beneath while chestnuts burn;
I welcome thee with thy fierce love,
Gloom below and gleam above.
Though all the forest trees hang dumb,
With dense leafiness o'ercome;
Though the nightingale and thrush,
Pipe not from the bough or bush;
Come to me with thy lustrous eye,
Azure-melting westerly,
The raptures of thy face unfold,
And welcome in thy robes of gold!
Tho' the nightingale broods-'sweet-chuck-sweet' -
And the ouzel flutes so chill,
Tho' the throstle gives but one shrilly trill
To the nightingale's 'sweet-sweet.'
poem by George Meredith
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