Wings Unshuttered - 1290 - Current Version
Shutters utterly unpinned, Spring pings flight.
Wings leave stutter gutter mutter ground unpinned,
found sound kiting, gliding upon current wind,
flowing freely towards the light,
unfettered, playful, bright,
challenging eternity, sing hope alight.
meeting - YOU - sweet
greeting - YOU - treat
entreating - YOU - helpmeet
defeating - FUSS - retreat
heating - US - replete
completing - US - fleet
(30 March 2009)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Related quotes
Wings - 1290 - Initial Version
Shutters unpinned, Spring pings flight.
Wings leave ground mutter, unpinned,
kiting with the current wind,
flowing freely towards the light,
unfettered, playful, bright,
to challenge eternity, on hope alight.
(26 July 2005)
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Flowing Freely
Flowing Freely
Shutters unpinned, Spring pings flight.
Wings leave ground mutter, unpinned,
kiting with the current wind,
flowing freely towards the light, -
unfettered, playful, bright,
to challenge eternity, on hope alight...
26 July 2005 robi3_1290_robi3_0000
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Sunset in March
The Spring has come to us again,
flowers are dancing in the rain,
the morning sky returns to blue,
sunset in March, a magic view.
A crocus bloom, blue pearl of Spring
smiles as the robins sing and sing,
watching the skies, I'm singing too,
sunset in March, a magic view.
The lake is waiting for old boats,
a sound of hope so freely floats,
the music that our souls pursue,
sunset in March, a magic view.
There is no time like Spring, indeed,
a heart renewed for worlds in need,
may all our wishes dreams come true,
sunset in March, a magic view.
poem by Marius Alexandru (March 2022)
Submitted by anonym
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A Song Of A Spring-Time
TOO rash, sweet birds, spring is not spring;
Sharp winds are fell in east and north;
Late blossoms die for peeping forth; Rains numb, frost blights;
Days are unsunned, storms tear the nights;
The tree-buds wilt before they swell.
Frosts in the buds, and frost-winds fell: And you, you sing.
But let no song be sweet in spring;
Spring is but hope for after-time,
And what is hope but spring-tide rime? But blights, but rain?
Spring wanes unsunned, and sunless wane
The hopes false spring-tide bore to die.
Spring's answer is the March wind's sigh: And you, you sing.
poem by Augusta Davies Webster
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Villanelle Of Spring Bells
Bells in the town alight with spring
converse, with a concordance of new airs
make clear the fresh and ancient sound they sing.
People emerge from winter to hear them ring,
children glitter with mischief and the blind man hears
bells in the town alight with spring.
Even he on his eyes feels the caressing
finger of Persephone, and her voice escaped from tears
make clear the fresh and ancient sound they sing.
Bird feels the enchantment of his wing
and in ten fine notes dispels twenty cares.
Bells in the town alight with spring
warble the praise of Time, for he can bring
this season: chimes the merry heaven bears
make clear the fresh and ancient sound they sing.
All evil men intent on evil thing
falter, for in their cold unready ears
bells in the town alight with spring
make clear the fresh and ancient sound they sing.
Submitted by Andrew Todd
poem by Keith Douglas
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Endless Flight
Writers: andrew gold
Keep me steady
Dont rock me all around
Lord, I dont wanna fall down
Understand me
I wish this jet was off the ground
Look around you
And tell me what you see
Are you afraid or is it me?
I hope we make it
I hope we dont fall in the sea
And its gonna be an endless flight
Until we reach the ground tonight
Yes its gonna be an endless flight I know
Like a flyinbird in the night
The wind is strong but I hope Im right
An this will be the end of this endless flight
Make me happy
Just let me see the light
I hope the runway time is near
The look the captain gave
Wasnt comfort and saw fear
Oh, what a fear
And its gonna be an endless flight
Until we reach the ground tonight
Yes its gonna be an endless flight I know
Like a flyin bird in the night
The wind is strong but I hope Im right
An this will be the end of this endless flight
And its gonna be an endless flight
Until we reach the ground tonight
Yes its gonna be an endless flight I know
Like a flyin bird in the night
The wind is strong but I hope Im right
An this will be the end of this endless flight
And its gonna be an endless flight
Until we reach the ground tonight
Yes its gonna be an endless flight I know
Like a flyin bird in the night
The wind is strong but I hope Im right
An this will be the end of this endless flight
song performed by by Leo Sayer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Heart Is A Caged Bird
My heart is a caged bird
Legs tied by the bond of
Relationships
Wings clipped by
Responsibilities
Crying in agony
Writhing with pain
Wants to fly
In the open skies
Leave every memory
Behind
Feel the heat of sun
Cool breeze on the body
Sing freely
Like the flowing water
Cross the oceans
Conquer the Mountains
Break the shackles of
Worldly rules
Live freely thereafter
758-03-05-10-2012
Joy and sorrow
Who does not laugh?
Who does not cry?
Joy and sorrow
Are in Every body's life
Who does not hope?
Whose hope
Are always fulfilled
Who does not fear death?
Still new hope
Takes birth in the mind
Everybody keeps
On living
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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Gliding Bird
(Tom Slocum)
Gliding bird gliding through the sky
I'm wondering why I can't be why I can't be as free
Gliding bird gliding all day long
Sing your secret song away from all these faces that I see
Is where I want to be
My feet are so tired
They walked too many miles
If I run so wild like heaven's child
I'll learn to fly someday
Gliding bird riding in the sun
Rainbow colors run
I hear the wind
I hear its mournful call
Gliding bird high above the sea
Is it longing to be free
Your voice is silent
But your wings tell all
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The one I did not become
Hope the sun shine so bright
To make your day bright
Hope the birds can sing
The song I used to sing
Hope the wind can whisper
Three words I used to whisper
Hope the moon will always be there
To inform you I still care
Hope all of the stars up above
Reminds you of my true love
And hope that special someone
Be the one that I didn’t become
11.07.05
poem by Sweet Seven
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Sing To Me
Sing to me! Something of sunlight and bloom,
I am so compassed with sorrow and gloom,
I am so sick with the world’s noisse and strife, -
Sing of the beauty and brightness of life –
Sing to me, sing to me!
Sing to me! Something that’s jubilant, glad!
I am so weary, my soul so sad.
All my earth riches are covered with rust,
All my bright dreams are but ashes and dust.
Sing to me, sing to me!
Sing og the blossoms that open in spring,
How the sweet flowers blow, and the long lichens cling,
Say, though the winter is round about me,
There are bright summers and springs yet to be.
Sing to me, sing to me!
Sing me a song full of hope and of truth,
Brimming with all the sweet fancies of youth!
Say, though my sorrow I may not forget,
I have not quite done with happiness yet.
Sing to me, sing to me!
Lay your soft fingers just here, on my cheek;
Turn the light lower – there- no, do not speak,
But sing! My heart thrills at your beautiful voice;
Sing till I turn from my grief and rejoice.
Sing to me, sing to me!
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Hope On
Power's a cheat, success but trying,
Even pleasure bears a sting;
Still ’tis useless, useless sighing,
Rather list to Hope replying—
“The flowers must come again with spring;
And in the trampled way we re going
Streams of comfort yet are flowing—
Hark! I hear them murmuring.”
Fame’s a liar in the nation!
Love hath oft a wayward wing;
Still, hence seek not for occasion
To impugn Hope’s sweet persuasion—
“The flowers will come again with spring;
And in the world-wide way we re going
Streams of pure good yet are flowing—
Hark! I hear them murmuring.”
Friendship turns, itself denying
Even Truth the heart may wring;
Still, though trust be daily dying,
Listen still to Hope replying—
“The flowers will come again with spring:
And in the blasted way we re going
There’s yet one healing current flowing—
Hark! I hear it murmuring.”
poem by Charles Harpur
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Every New Invention
Every New Invention
The Press has still to mention,
we’ve yet to know about,
every new invention
that we can’t live without.
Prosperity seems fleeting,
mankind must comprehend
it can't continue cheating
Earth's resources pretend
they’re ever self-repeating
eternally extend
all generations greeting -
so spendthrift ways amend.
We live with central heating,
on science we depend,
and every day we’re meeting
new methods without end.
The layman’s comprehension
is stretched from nowt to doubt,
to up the spout - attention
strong’s sought from louts change flout.
We struggle, self-completing,
to balance ends, means, spend
time in between competing
choice options to defend
our rights to worthwhile pension,
planned obsolescence tout.
World enters new dimension
where friends, foes’ rout, want out!
robi3_0036 written 4 February 1975 revised 20 December 2008 previous version see below
Every New Invention
The Press has still to mention,
we’ve yet to know about,
every new invention
that we can’t live without.
We live with central heating,
on science we depend,
and every day we’re meeting
new methods without end.
4 February 1975
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Zoë Keating's Alphabetical Short List
beating
fleeting
greeting
heating
keating
meeting
seating
sheeting
treating
poem by Nicolas Grenier
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The Herons Of Elmwood. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The Fifth)
Warm and still is the summer night,
As here by the river's brink I wander;
White overhead are the stars, and white
The glimmering lamps on the hillside yonder.
Silent are all the sounds of day;
Nothing I hear but the chirp of crickets,
And the cry of the herons winging their way
O'er the poet's house in the Elmwood thickets.
Call to him, herons, as slowly you pass
To your roosts in the haunts of the exiled thrushes,
Sing him the song of the green morass;
And the tides that water the reeds and rushes.
Sing him the mystical Song of the Hern,
And the secret that baffles our utmost seeking;
For only a sound of lament we discern,
And cannot interpret the words you are speaking.
Sing of the air, and the wild delight
Of wings that uplift and winds that uphold you,
The joy of freedom, the rapture of flight
Through the drift of the floating mists that infold you.
Of the landscape lying so far below,
With its towns and rivers and desert places;
And the splendor of light above, and the glow
Of the limitless, blue, ethereal spaces.
Ask him if songs of the Troubadours,
Or of Minnesingers in old black-letter,
Sound in his ears more sweet than yours,
And if yours are not sweeter and wilder and better.
Sing to him, say to him, here at his gate,
Where the boughs of the stately elms are meeting,
Some one hath lingered to meditate,
And send him unseen this friendly greeting;
That many another hath done the same,
Though not by a sound was the silence broken;
The surest pledge of a deathless name
Is the silent homage of thoughts unspoken.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Unpinned and Bowled Over
Unpinned and bowled over.
Did I expect it?
No!
Although it has been accepted.
With reluctance,
I admit.
But you did this with finesse.
A skill I wish I had possessed.
Perhaps that's why you passed the test.
With a striking delight,
That blows my mind.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Ecstasy
The shore-lark soars to his topmost flight,
Sings at the height where morning springs,
What though his voice be lost in the light,
The light comes dropping from his wings.
Mount, my soul, and sing at the height
Of thy clear flight in the light and the air,
Heard or unheard in the night in the light
Sing there! Sing there!
poem by Duncan Campbell Scott
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In The Peace They Have Found
They stood as memorials
to those who passed before us.
Epitaphs for formal lives,
white markers upon their grave
and as I sat among them,
there was silence everywhere.
Their bodies lay silent
deep within the ground.
They rest there for eternity
in the peace they have found.
22 March 2009
poem by David Harris
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The Shortest Moment That The Butterfly Tries To Speak
how many flutters of its wings is its lifetime?
not a hundred, this butterfly with blue shaking lines on its wings
some dots of black on the lower tip
some flaps of dust as you hold it.
we love to see it freely hovering from one flower to another
blending with its colors, it is not trying to hide anything
beautiful, it is showing itself, beautiful butterfly,
how gentle, soft to our hearts as we watch it
there is no sound of its wings and its graceful feeding on the nectars
then it rests on a leaf. we leave it there.
the wind last night was strong.
we see the leaf where it stayed on the pebbled ground.
there are no wings. there is no trace where the blue butterfly is.
how many flutters did that butterfly make?
such a brief moment, yet so beautiful
that is the message of the life of its lost wings.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Firefly the lullaby speak
sweet as honey comb,
foil in the clay of nuts shelter
in the cocoon of beetle chew, grind to
make it blow in the dust
of glow
standby dear heart,
fall to the ground leave something
for tomorrow, never
and find a pot that is to hot
to grow
make what life tenderly holds,
while touching everything that fold,
as it would not stop
the firefly light goes to fly in the
night sky lamb light it show
the crystallize sight will
just follow
oh! come little light in the wings
everybody’s flight now is the right time
as it goes in and out tight,
share your light in every wilderness
fight
lay down your wings of fire apart …..
poem by Antonio Liao
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Foreclosure
Fleeting complicity
meeting adversity
depleting prosperity
deleting electricity.
Defeating rime
completing rhyme:
anthropocentricity.
© Jonathan Robin 21 September 2008
poem by Jonathan Robin
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