Unexpected Enchantment
Enchantment of soft wonder vision sent
as Spring sun sudden melting Winter snow –
yet warmer – only tenderness should show
sweet nothings conjured to presentiment
that sing heart’s harp strings, harvest sentiment
to garner unexpected harvest glow.
But this rings platitudinous for so
especial shines one smile, one spirit bent
on gifting more than moment’s monument,
transparency between twin souls clears flow
beyond horizons most are wont to know
encouraging souls' shared enlightenment.
This sonnet leaves beginnings, weaves true end
which, rich, gilds Time itself to time extend...
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Harvest For The World
All babies together
Evry one a seed
Half of us are satisfied
The other half of us in need
Loves bountiful in us
Tarnished by our greed
Oh, when will there be a harvest.. for the world?
(harvest for the world)
A nations planted
So concerned with gain
As the seasons come and go, we wont wait in vain
Far too many, feelin the strain
(chorus)
(a harvest.. a harvest)
(a harvest.. a harvest)
(a harvest.. a harvest)
(a harvest.. a harvest)
(a harvest for the world)
Dress me up for battle
When all I want is peace
Those of us who pay the price
Come home with the least
And nation after nation, tuning into beasts
(chorus)
When will there be.. a harvest
When will there be.. a harvest
When will there be.. a harvest
When will there be.. a harvest
When will there be.. a harvest
When will there be.. a harvest
When will there be.. a harvest..
song performed by by Duran Duran
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One Year
One year, two hearts have learned to grow
across divides of time and tide,
one year, two hearts have learned to sow
seeds free from weeds, no need to hide.
One year saw challenges well met
with optimistic insight shared,
one year two never will forget,
from oblivion forever spared.
One year, joy norm became to show,
true tenderness which will abide,
one year, where rich affection's flow
formed base for future starry eyed.
One year upon time's wings has let
beginnings blossom into light,
one year where fears, frustrations, fret
dissolved ‘spite distance dynamite.
One year embraced shared dreams below
skies blue, horizons warm and wide,
year's ride beyond blocks, rocks, start slow
accelerated side by side.
One year: each second's silhouette
shines through linked lines inked allegro,
one year discarding pain, regret,
as equals, neither high nor low.
One year, from quest to twinned jest's glow,
from bud to bloom, gloom thrust aside,
one year where two have grown to know
vim, vain objection's override.
One year may many more beget,
revealing gifts love may bestow
in countless ways, as hearts' duet
ignores walls, calls to Maude and Co.
(16 April 2009)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Once again the spring has come
Once again the spring has come
and all around blooms,
our faces are wreathed with smiles.
The spring is working wonders
with the entire world
kindling the hearts by springtime thunders.
The spring has brought the warmth,
there is no more colds;
the snow has thawed in our souls;
the teardrops have melted down
and ran away in the Vernal waters,
starlings become the reporters of spring,
our souls bloom together with spring,
our hearts feel like to sing
and the dropping snow do dings.
No one feels perfectly at ease
with the tenderness of springtime breeze.
Our Mother nature promises new things;
new hopes, new dreams it brings.
Once again the spring has come,
flying in the sky like a swallow
inviting us to follow it's flight,
to see the land from the birds-eye view,
to show us how far the spring flew.
Once again the spring has come
to serve our hearts and nature,
to renew everything in our world,
to be in use for a new adventure.
Spring, spring, spring!
The kingdom of immortality!
It comes to show us world's beauty
and wisdom of humans mentality.
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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Sacre du Printemps
SPun lines like sparkling wines flow fast
RIpen spirit, winter past,
None grieve, freeze melts, warm zephyr breeze
Grants blossom, birdsong, leaves the trees.
SPontaneous seems growth Spring’s cast,
RIot runs, through Summer last,
Nature explodes in sprig and sprout.
Gusts sprung when young keep age sage, stout.
SPeech shared may reach fair pair’s desire
RIng golden satisfies to fire
New inspiration poet’s lyre
Gladly interprets, cannot tire.
SPirit of pride rides high at noon
RIch too soon, proves seldom boon,
Nascent Spring wings honey bees,
Gifts light, lifts dark uncertainties.
SPorting from the Springs’s cocoon
RIse butterflies, blooms, birds in tune, -
Now sow, tomorrow harvest reap,
Glow now, now grow, then, cheerful, sleep...
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Autumnal
Pale amber sunlight falls across
The reddening October trees,
That hardly sway before a breeze
As soft as summer: summer's loss
Seems little, dear! on days like these.
Let misty autumn be our part!
The twilight of the year is sweet:
Where shadow and the darkness meet
Our love, a twilight of the heart
Eludes a little time's deceit.
Are we not better and at home
In dreamful Autumn, we who deem
No harvest joy is worth a dream?
A little while and night shall come,
A little while, then, let us dream.
Beyond the pearled horizons lie
Winter and night: awaiting these
We garner this poor hour of ease,
Until love turn from us and die
Beneath the drear November trees.
poem by Ernest Christopher Dowson
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The Poet's Song To His Wife
HOW many summers, love,
Have I been thine?
How many days, thou dove,
Hast thou been mine?
Time, like the winged wind
When ’t bends the flowers,
Hath left no mark behind,
To count the hours.
Some weight of thought, though loth,
On thee he leaves;
Some lines of care round both
Perhaps he weaves;
Some fears,—a soft regret
For joys scarce known;
Sweet looks we half forget;—
All else is flown!
Ah!—With what thankless heart
I mourn and sing!
Look, where our children start,
Like sudden Spring!
With tongues all sweet and low,
Like a pleasant rhyme,
They tell how much I owe
To thee and Time!
poem by Barry Cornwall
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Food for thought
The fields are bare, the harvest safe in store
Now is the time for man and beast to rest
King winter will enforce his frigid rule.
The fields are white, the harvest safe in store
In time the sun will shine and spring return
The earth will show renewed vitality
When sunshine puts an end to winters reign,
the frost retreats to let the spring return.
The farmers and the peasants know the score.
The city folk are merely parasites
who do not know nor want to know the score.
They are convinced they do not need to learn.
Confident that gold can buy anything,
this is not true. When famine strikes they’ll learn.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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When My Dreams Come True
I.
When my dreams come true--when my dreams come true--
Shall I lean from out my casement, in the starlight and the dew,
To listen--smile and listen to the tinkle of the strings
Of the sweet guitar my lover's fingers fondle, as he sings?
And as the nude moon slowly, slowly shoulders into view,
Shall I vanish from his vision--when my dreams come true?
When my dreams come true--shall the simple gown I wear
Be changed to softest satin, and my maiden-braided hair
Be raveled into flossy mists of rarest, fairest gold,
To be minted into kisses, more than any heart can hold?--
Or 'the summer of my tresses' shall my lover liken to
'The fervor of his passion'--when my dreams come true?
II.
When my dreams come true--I shall bide among the sheaves
Of happy harvest meadows; and the grasses and the leaves
Shall lift and lean between me and the splendor of the sun,
Till the noon swoons into twilight, and the gleaners' work is done--
Save that yet an arm shall bind me, even as the reapers do
The meanest sheaf of harvest--when my dreams come true.
When my dreams come true! when my dreams come true!
True love in all simplicity is fresh and pure as dew;--
The blossom in the blackest mold is kindlier to the eye
Than any lily born of pride that looms against the sky:
And so it is I know my heart will gladly welcome you,
My lowliest of lovers, when my dreams come true.
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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Enhanced Impressions
ENHANCED IMPRESSIONS
May [s]he fill heart with laughter, light,
Advance, words weaving soft delight,
Unwind minds' blindness so two might
Dive through each other’s strength, find flight
Effacing walled calls dark as night,
MAUrauders tempting, flying kite.
Defy all mirage motions trite, -
Emotions share that naught need blight?
May [s]he fright shadows, hither bend
Arms into waiting arms to tend
Unending welcome friend as friend
DEstined, in time with rhyme, to mend
MAladies, passing cares, and end
Unbecoming bars, append
Due joy as on shared quest two wend
Enchantment bright as joys ascend.
May [s]he see past time’s veil tonight
A message clear, both dear and bright,
Unwavering image infinite.
DElight may two as one unite
MAy catalyzed by second sight,
Unrealing magic spells excite
Dumb to speech tender, selenite
Entrances, open view seems right.
May [s]he to far horizons lend
AUreate prospect and extend
Dreams to real reel, as two transcend
Evanescent spendthrift spend.
MArch hand in hand and recommend
Unceasing tenderness fair friend.
Days to years sans tears here penned,
Enhanced impressions twin souls blend.
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Music Keys Muse
Music offers key that may unlock
emotions’ tides which wash wide, far beyond
life’s toil and troubles, act as magic wand
ending Time’s hold on Man’s internal clock
where fresh horizons future fair unblock.
Enchantment uninhibited, true bond,
links heart to heart as each to each responds
as agent free to answer Chance’s knock.
Music’s magic, shared, must distance mock,
exchanging tone-true notes, souls correspond,
unleashing feelings, sound profound and fond,
resplendent rainbow unwrecked by Time’s rock.
Love’s lighthouse beacon crowned with music may
illuminate, each season sweet as May.
19 September 2005 revisedd 10 April 2008
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Looking, Watching, Waiting
It's Winter now,
And everything is cold and bare.
Used to be lush and green,
Covered in leaves.
The snow is melting.
It's getting warmer.
Spring is on it's way.
Now Spring has come
The snow has all melted,
And the trees are getting more leaves.
It's warm now,
And i can't wait for Summer to arrive.
Summer is finally here!
I go outside and run barefoot through the streets.
Windows are open and the birds are singing.
Summer is finally here!
Now Summer is gone, and Fall is in the air.
Soon it will get colder,
And i will once again be looking, watching, waiting,
For Summer's arrival.
poem by Vi Lanflagle
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Black Top Angel
Stay out of the road, get out of this one's way
He's got a full load and he just won't be late
He is driving under the Devils spell and he won't stop and he won't tell
He is the Black Top, Black Top Angel of Hell
His cargo is the souls of men that once had lived they died
Eighteen wheels rolling, coming, run hide
Truck driver get out of the way or just stand in his way
You may find you can't outrun, destiny is today
He is the Black Top Angel, one can hear the souls that wail
He holds his passions true, he knows his course so well
Sent by the Devil, the lightning streaks the night
To harvest the souls of the men who had a choice but they died
He is The Black Top Angel, The Black Top Angel of Hell
There is no time to waste, the thunder already swells
In the quiet of night the lightning strikes, he turns around
One more soul, another free ride
Can you not see the look of death that is upon his face
Sent by the Devil, to harvest souls of the human race
He holds his passions true, he knows his roads so well
He is the Black Top Angel, The Black Top Angel of Hell.
poem by Bill Simmons
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In Praise of a Sonnet
(this is not a true sonnet)
A sonnet, in classical form a charm
soft as sun dawn, it wakens spirit love
calling you, wanting you, it takes your arm
and whisks you away on wings of a dove.
There it holds you with its perfect meter
lullabying with it’s iambic tone.
Nothing does compare or could be sweeter
than the dance of love as poets have shown.
So take my hand and let us dance today
with these magic words penned so long ago.
We shall taste them, taste them without delay,
so succulent it makes our souls to glow.
A sonnet, lovingly given… hold tight
As dawn’s first light makes your spirit take flight.
Solstice Season
S eptember's solstice season spans between
E arly autumn, winter white. Sun leaves
P hoto's synthesis as summer grieves
T he passing cusp preparing sharper sheen.
E ase, orchards fruitful as boughs heavy lean,
M ature is corn, horn plenteous spills, achieves
B ounty's harvest bundling golden sheaves.
E xpectant breeze wave teases trees. Some glean
R emaining grains from fields whose yield has been
S pecial blessing granted as time weaves
EPhemeral rings beneath rough bark, conceives
TEMpting joys cocooned till Spring's springs clean
BEyond restraints, bears promise, year reborn,
Restoring hope as cycles spin fresh dawn...
(Acrostic sonnet SEPTEMBER SEPTEMBER /11 September 2007)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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I Did Not Know
I did not know—
And it was but a few short days ago—
How near to spring, it was; the world lay still
In all the bitter cold of winter chill;
Yet even then the May-buds with the glow
Of burning lips pressed to the melting snow
Had kissed themselves a window, to the sky,—
And spring was nigh.
I did not know—
Ah, was it such a little while ago!—
Within my heart how near it was to spring;
I did not guess the blessed blossoming,
Until this gladsome morn I woke, and lo!
Sweet with new fragrance does the whole world grow
From that so fair and snow-sprung flower dear,—
And spring is here!
poem by Abbie Farwell Brown from The New England Magazine / Volume 24, Issue 2 (1898)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Harvest and Autumn
Harvest, harvest
all you need,
is food and drink
and fruit indeed.
Harvest friend is harvest moon,
of course.
Autumn, Autumn
Harvest is in Autumn,
oh, what a great time to celebrate! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
poem by Karolina Gosztyla
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Incantation Of Yellow!
When God poured all the worldly riches,
That all the deceit and vice dispersed,
He bade nature to smite her yellows,
A color, only he could profusely afford.
Nothing so mellow none so vibrant,
Acolor that could not lie, so honest and bold,
Be it the melting of a heart or the dropp of a tear,
Thus he censures whereever he forgot to put in gold.
Between the canopies see his sun-burnt mirth glow,
In shared light, the healthy play of light and shadow,
To show to its full effect, pushed sorrow into the best shade,
[Do we ever measure it's depth? Griefs all nooks he did raid.
In flowers he dabbled, stolen dawns and sunsets,
So faithful to beauty, they dare be nothing but transitory,
For a day is all they hold their smile,
Yet, brief moments enough to last a lifetime.
He bade earth take a merry oath every spring,
To spat the gold sill pansies on the straw gold hills,
That their frayed and lost souls can take heart again,
With strains of retrying, angels ofglad tidings.
In dreams he put his vivid colouring,
Whenever he wished to show a glimpse of Paradise,
In trepidations of sojourning Jove,
Time measured in bitter chapters end in wed locks of Love.
Woven in garlands for a girl's paramour,
Some integrity in their vows he splashed,
So that things unsaid may not remain so forever
A true tongue to keep promises must also be nearly gold.
He tinted butterflies by day, by night he flashed the fireflies,
Under his gaze fruits ripened mature, fields withered in full harvest,
Under the yellow-bellied moon he took the lover's blame,
Thus the course of true love ran in his hue's name.
Under his hue, does this New Year hold good tidings for me,
Or is the joke on me?
SEEMAJOGLEKAR-3rd-JAN-2011
poem by Seema joglekar
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Approaching Spring
spring soon will be here
Away from the winter's snow
Drying up every frosty tear
And causing the landscape to glow
But the shine of spring I need right now
I need all the help I can get
To wave goodbye to this past winter
In hopes that I can forget
I've lost all my real friends
And almost ever other friendship too
Right now I am just amazed
That I haven't yet lost you
The approaching spring will hit restart
It's something that we all need
The approaching spring will fix our hearts
And allow our souls to breathe
poem by Matt Burgett
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The First Signs of Spring
The first signs of spring bring smiles and joy to us all,
Its the beginning of nature and the birth of the new season,
It brings life and renewal back to the cold plains,
Springing buds that will flourish,
Then open in full bloom for summer,
The young of the cattle and the spring of the lamb,
Are all the signs of spring,
With the snow and freeze temperatures,
Turning into cool breezes,
And clear sunny winds blowing,
Knowing its spring again,
The mundane feelings of winter blues,
Start to diminish in our seasonal affective winter faces,
As the sun shines a bit warmer,
So does the color of our face glow brighter,
And all show well in the spring of their steps,
As even the old can get out some more,
Now spring has arrived with safer passage,
Spring is also a time to clear out,
The unwanted items in our homes as we spring clean,
Then there the things to forget or put in the past,
Is in the spring cleaning of our thinking,
To clear our thinking better for a clearer future,
Then there's the renewal of forgiving,
As we forgive and forget,
Forgiving to start anew,
Is the starting again,
Or re birthing the past,
With a new attitude to help,
Its foundations this time round stronger,
Spring,
Is the time to see how it all begins,
For what is way beneath the ground or hibernating,
In the spring shows itself and nature in it splendor,
For what decays and withers,
The spring shows its second coming,
From what lay beneath the ground all winter,
Springs renews in growth,
And mother nature shows her splendor,
Come the first signs of spring,
We all start feeling somewhat better.
poem by Ellen Ni Bheachain
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Sonnet XVIII
SINCE in the pleasant time of opening flowers
That flow'r, Her life, was doom'd to fade away,--
Since Her dear loss hath shaded lovely hours,
And turn'd to mourning all the smiles of May,--
Henceforward when the warm soft breath of Spring
Bids cowslips star the meadows, thick and sweet;
When doves are in the green wood murmuring,
And children wander with delighted feet;
When, by their own rich beauty downward bent,
Soft Guelder-roses hang their tufts of snow,
And purple lilacs yield a fagrant scent,
And bright laburnum droops its yellow bough;--
Let that Spring-time be welcomed with a sigh,
For Her lamented Rake,--who was so young to die!
poem by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
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