Grace Sufficient
Golden fields praise the morning sun
Dreams rise in the cool calm day
Autumn winds blow crisp dried leaves
Blue sky shines and clouds play
November courts my imagination
Walk by the wise river flowing in light
Geese flock for their long journey south
Beauty amongst birch, oak and pine
The frosty glaze of night has melted
Many sea gulls still fish and feed
Green grass thrives on a sunny day
I walk in quiet with thoughts deep
Lately my dreams wake me with tears
So many people lonely and in pain
I miss so many friends that have left
Sometimes it all seems so vain
Why am I still here, my family gone?
Maybe God doesn't want to tell me?
Maybe the plan is revealed in living?
This bright morning shines with joy free
I look up, I know his grace is sufficient
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Lovers Meeting Beside A River
two lovers meet beside a river
they are on to something prohibited
but they cannot be stopped by your beliefs
dogmas and laws do not work for their love
so strong
so uninhibited
the feelings that gush like a river
flowing
naked they touch their bodies
their hands exploring all the possibilities
of love
they kiss, they make love
they lay their bodies on the grass
rolling, one on top of the other,
tight, and warm
sweat and salivations
until the apex is reached
the climax of love
the ecstasy
the fulfillment and then
the much needed rest
the other one sleeps
and dreams
the other one smokes
blows a breath
to the sky
makes circles
and plays with the
images of the clouds
at night
when the moon shines
so bright
and the star glitter
no one knows about this
except the river and the trees
the trees sing
the river flows
and then the sun shines
the morning after
the two shadows are gone
leaving some traces
on the grass
dried sweat
disturbed grass
some maps
without names
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Walk this Night
Dark clouds will move
Light rays will come
Dark night will end
Bright day will start
But walk this night
Walk seeing its stars
Seeing its bright light
Seeing its white shine
It’s the beauty of night
So seen only in night
Walk seeing its moon
Seeing its moon light
Seeing its bright shine
It’s also beauty of night
So shines only in night
So walk this night
Walk seeing its light
And awake in light
Walk seeing its beauty
And awake in beauty
So walk this night
To wake in shine
If not the next day
It will be other day
For now walk this night
So move, said my heart
poem by Kranthi Pothineni
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Gates of Innocence
Up round St John Street we walked one night, while moonlight brightly glowed,
My arm around you, yours round me, with two friends long ago.
So deep into love’s old sweet dream in moments now long flown,
And like a leaf upon the breeze my heart was not my own.
Oh the road to winning you was fraught, with quicksands all the way.
I sank and swam, I walked and ran, I wooed you night and day,
To simply hold your hand so soft, or gaze on eyes so blue,
In steep green fields at Clachanmore when I worked next to you.
But no moon nor love could quite foresee that I would wriggle free,
Against my heart, against my will, somewhat regretfully.
The roads we walked were soon to part, to sever us for ill,
To leave the Crescent we once walked, to ghosts that haunt me still.
Now the thoughts that circle round me here, they strengthen with the night.
As if the years have fallen to that young love’s breathless might,
Your eyes beguiled the doubting stars and left me void of sense,
Before the moments we fell through, the gates of innocence.
Now the moonlight shines less brightly on the lonely fields we cleared,
And St John Street is not as sweet as when I held you dear.
The friends we walked with on that night still walk together yet.
The full moon’s promise holds as true, as when we two last met.
chorus
The winds blow cold on those steep green fields
And strangers walk down St John Street
I’ve walked the crescent where love grew
Where innocence once sheltered me and you
Beautiful Autumn
Beautiful autumn
Before night's winter fall
Slowly with its strum
In frosty nights call
The dreams of darkish play
From evenings in the night
Each winter’s icily play
In lost longing's flight
Beautiful yellow red
Leaves of the falling decay
Each peeling blossom bed
That gives the night its day
Their garden going to brown
When life is in its sleep
Like evening in winters gown
In tinctures not to keep
Beautiful dreams going
Flowing the last of autumn
With all its golden glowing
And drowning of river’s hum
The dreams of the cloudy sky
In days of the fallen leaves
Questions to ask for why
The world is of smile and greaves
poem by Peter S. Quinn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Fishers
The chill of late Autumn is in the morning
And before the sun comes out the sky looks gray
And Jack Iversen and Kenny are off fishing
They left quite early at the break of day.
They tow their boat to the ramp at San Remo
But only on a calm and windless day
And within sight of land they dropp their anchor
Where the fish might be schooling on the quiet bay.
For them a pleasant way to spend their morning
To fish with rods and lines from boat for three hours or four
Especially when the hungry fish are biting
A good morning's catch some twenty fish or more.
The gentle waves against the boat keep lapping
And the sun breaks through the clouds just after nine
It must be soothing for the nerves and pleasant
To sit and relax and fish in the sun shine.
The chill of late Autumn is in the morning
And the sun at nine shines through the clouds of gray
And Jack Iversen and Kenny are out fishing
In their boat anchored on San Remo bay
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The shining. For Tara.
It shines.
It shines from the new-born baby;
shines in the magic of birth.
It shines in first love;
in lasting love.
It shines in laughter,
in tears of sadness,
in tears of joy.
It shines in wisdom,
shines in goodness,
shines as beauty.
It shines in the held breath
of the peace of dawn about to break;
it shines in the stillness
of the hour of sunset.
It shines as life.
There is no limit to its shining
except the denying of it
and even then,
it shines
Since you know it so well,
does it need a name?
A name perhaps, to praise?
Nameless, known to all,
beyond all praise,
it shines.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Earlier Poems : The Spirit Of Poetry
There is a quiet spirit in these woods,
That dwells where'er the gentle south-wind blows;
Where, underneath the white-thorn, in the glade,
The wild flowers bloom, or, kissing the soft air,
The leaves above their sunny palms outspread.
With what a tender and impassioned voice
It fills the nice and delicate ear of thought,
When the fast ushering star of morning comes
O'er-riding the gray hills with golden scarf;
Or when the cowled and dusky-sandalled Eve,
In mourning weeds, from out the western gate,
Departs with silent pace! That spirit moves
In the green valley, where the silver brook,
From its full laver, pours the white cascade;
And, babbling low amid the tangled woods,
Slips down through moss-grown stones with endless laughter.
And frequent, on the everlasting hills,
Its feet go forth, when it doth wrap itself
In all the dark embroidery of the storm,
And shouts the stern, strong wind. And here, amid
The silent majesty of these deep woods,
lts presence shall uplift thy thoughts from earth,
As to the sunshine and the pure, bright air
Their tops the green trees lift. Hence gifted bards
Have ever loved the calm and quiet shades.
For them there was an eloquent voice in all
The sylvan pomp of woods, the golden sun,
The flowers, the leaves, the river on its way,
Blue skies, and silver clouds, and gentle winds,
The swelling upland, where the sidelong sun
Aslant the wooded slope, at evening, goes,
Groves, through whose broken roof the sky looks in,
Mountain, and shattered cliff, and sunny vale,
The distant lake, fountains, and mighty trees,
In many a lazy syllable, repeating
Their old poetic legends to the wind.
And this is the sweet spirit, that doth fill
The world; and, in these wayward days of youth,
My busy fancy oft embodies it,
As a bright image of the light and beauty
That dwell in nature; of the heavenly forms
We worship in our dreams, and the soft hues
That stain the wild bird's wing, and flush the clouds
When the sun sets. Within her tender eye
The heaven of April, with its changing light,
And when it wears the blue of May, is hung,
And on her lip the rich, red rose. Her hair
Is like the summer tresses of the trees,
When twilight makes them brown, and on her cheek
Blushes the richness of an autumn sky,
With ever-shifting beauty. Then her breath,
It is so like the gentle air of Spring,
As, front the morning's dewy flowers, it comes
Full of their fragrance, that it is a joy
To have it round us, and her silver voice
Is the rich music of a summer bird,
Heard in the still night, with its passionate cadence.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Spirit of Poetry, The
There is a quiet spirit in these woods,
That dwells where'er the gentle south-wind blows;
Where, underneath the white-thorn, in the glade,
The wild flowers bloom, or, kissing the soft air,
The leaves above their sunny palms outspread.
With what a tender and impassioned voice
It fills the nice and delicate ear of thought,
When the fast ushering star of morning comes
O'er-riding the gray hills with golden scarf;
Or when the cowled and dusky-sandaled Eve,
In mourning weeds, from out the western gate,
Departs with silent pace! That spirit moves
In the green valley, where the silver brook,
From its full laver, pours the white cascade;
And, babbling low amid the tangled woods,
Slips down through moss-grown stones with endless laughter.
And frequent, on the everlasting hills,
Its feet go forth, when it doth wrap itself
In all the dark embroidery of the storm,
And shouts the stern, strong wind. And here, amid
The silent majesty of these deep woods,
lts presence shall uplift thy thoughts from earth,
As to the sunshine and the pure, bright air
Their tops the green trees lift. Hence gifted bards
Have ever loved the calm and quiet shades.
For them there was an eloquent voice in all
The sylvan pomp of woods, the golden sun,
The flowers, the leaves, the river on its way,
Blue skies, and silver clouds, and gentle winds,
The swelling upland, where the sidelong sun
Aslant the wooded slope, at evening, goes,
Groves, through whose broken roof the sky looks in,
Mountain, and shattered cliff, and sunny vale,
The distant lake, fountains, and mighty trees,
In many a lazy syllable, repeating
Their old poetic legends to the wind.
And this is the sweet spirit, that doth fill
The world; and, in these wayward days of youth,
My busy fancy oft embodies it,
As a bright image of the light and beauty
That dwell in nature; of the heavenly forms
We worship in our dreams, and the soft hues
That stain the wild bird's wing, and flush the clouds
When the sun sets. Within her tender eye
The heaven of April, with its changing light,
And when it wears the blue of May, is hung,
And on her lip the rich, red rose. Her hair
Is like the summer tresses of the trees,
When twilight makes them brown, and on her cheek
Blushes the richness of an autumn sky,
With ever-shifting beauty. Then her breath,
It is so like the gentle air of Spring,
As, front the morning's dewy flowers, it comes
Full of their fragrance, that it is a joy
To have it round us, and her silver voice
Is the rich music of a summer bird,
Heard in the still night, with its passionate cadence.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Home to Home
Embrace the golden rose of hope
Sea gulls glide by shores of beauty
Tides role with joy and laughter
Children play in the bright new day
I write your name in the sacred sand
When we are long gone it will remain
True hearts never really part do they?
All that is gone will soon shine on
I feel you more inside then ever before
You are the eternal day always rising
Let the yellow and blue wild flowers grow
Let everything live and run long and free
Hear the songs of the robins in the morning
Once you see love it never goes away
Deep in the sea hope is a gift of promise
Warm yourself by the fire of mystical love
Touch the cedar trees and feel the wind
Follow the river like a fine new friend
The earth shall be replenished and restored
Fill your eyes with the brightest of stars
The moon is rising like a humble queen
Ivory clouds glisten in her majestic wake
Sleep deep, rest with white light dreams
Everything is going to turn out right
Hope leads the heart from home to home
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Angel Of Dreams
She came to me one night
with a soul shining so bright
a heart as beautiful as a rose
like the sun shimmering through
in a December snow
floating down endless streams
And in her smile, heaven knows
she's an Angel of dreams
with eyes blue as the summer sky
that sparkles like a Northern light
in the mist of a morning dew
The days come and go
hours pass endless it seems
as I long to hold her tight
in a time that never goes
while this love, continues to grow
she's all I ever want to know
I hold her so close next to me
where she can only set me free
underneath a lonely weeping willow
in a place I wait for her to walk on by
And in her smile, heaven knows
she's an Angel of dreams
that shines down like a rainbow
many colors of you and me
(spiritwind-2009)
poem by Spiritwind Wood
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I live for my dreams.
She comes to me in dreams at night.
And holds me as she used to do.
But disappears by morning light
So I am left to grieve anew..
There’s no one left to comfort me
My family are long since gone.
I wait for nightfall eagerly
Just for a while I’m not alone.
Each night before I sleep I pray
My love will come to visit me.
Although I’ll face another day
of loneliness and misery.
They say that passing time will heal.
For some perhaps it may be true.
But not for me because I feel
the anguish still of losing you.
I know somewhere you wait for me.
You can’t return and won’t go on.
You know we have eternity.
That I will follow where you’ve gone.
When death released you from your pain.
And left your spirit free to fly.
You promised me we’d meet again.
Now all I do is wonder why.
Fate decided that we should be.
Forced to go our separate ways
Parted arbitrarily.
Condemning me to lonely days.
She comes to me by night in dreams
and holds me as she used to do
When for a while at least it seems
as if my dreams will soon come true.
I pray each night I will not wake.
To be set free to rejoin you.
A journey I will gladly make.
There’s nothing here for me to do.
Tuesday,15 March 2011
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When the Sun hide to shine
early morning, of the 13th month of November, the roar
of the sea wake me up, and the gloomy sunny day, hit my
darkness sight, as the moist of the forest dried my sweat
hides in the shadow of the wonder of the sun
fears and surprises meet everyone in the road, wondered
and lighted its candle in the home as it stood, all have
something to say but nobody want to listen, i want to cry,
yet everybody is busy, until i came to my senses and make
my own way
walking in the dark, while my eye can't see, holding my
breathe though the oxygen is free, numb my feet including
my heart, stepping in the soil where my feet tremble in the
freezing night, pushing my luck in every time, i take my
nap
fear holds me to hide in the golden cave i crawl, swimming
like fish in the warm dirty and muddy poll, where i can warm
my freezing body, the cool never last for to long, when i meet
the sun in the full moon dawn, near the diamond bowl he
sleep with me with dignity, friendship molded us to talk in the
shadow of the night, until i wake him up to see the day
friends come and go, never they return and sway your way,
turn their back and guide your way if anything you want to say;
as the sun ray its brilliant light and turning each day right, the
sun hide at the end of the twilight night and comes the
moonlight night
now let's welcome the sun as it bright its light, hiding the cool
shadow beneath the glow, blow the shinning moon, leaving our
heart the pain depart, friendship hold till it spark
'hide let not the sun rays, moonlight night take it rest …
…..friendship make the best “
poem by Antonio Liao
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hospital Sadness
As I lie around in this bed
Absolutely bored out of mind
I have sad thoughts in my head
I wish that these sad thoughts were left behind
My eyes are flowing with tears
Like a river bank flowing with water
My mind right now is full of fears
Mentally, I am not at my best.
I am
Lonely
Bored
Depressed
Sad
Th is is not where I belong
I want to tell the nurses so long
This is making me sad
When I am out of here I will be glad
I am lying around yearning for the days of home
Where I am free to roam
And not to confirm to one place
I wish time was moving at a fast pace
I miss my friends
I miss my family
I miss everything
Twilight In The North
O THE long northern twilight between the day and the night,
When the heat and the weariness of the world are ended quite:
When the hills grow dim as dreams, and the crystal river seems
Like that River of Life from out the Throne where the blessèd walk in white.
O the weird northern twilight, which is neither night nor day,
When the amber wake of the long-set sun still marks his western way:
And but one great golden star in the deep blue east afar
Warns of sleep, and dark, and midnight--of oblivion and decay.
O the calm northern twilight, when labor is all done,
And the birds in drowsy twitter have dropped silent one by one:
And nothing stirs or sighs in mountains, waters, skies,--
Earth sleeps--but her heart waketh, till the rising of the sun.
O the sweet, sweet twilight, just before the time of rest,
When the black clouds are driven away, and the stormy winds suppressed:
And the dead day smiles so bright, filling earth and heaven with light,--
You would think 't was dawn come back again--but the light is in the west.
O the grand solemn twilight, spreading peace from pole to pole!--
Ere the rains sweep o'er the hillsides, and the waters rise and roll,
In the lull and the calm, come, O angel with the palm--
In the still norther twilight, Azrael, take my soul.
poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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California
On my way to sunny California
On my way to spend another sunny day
Water, water get yourself in the cool, clear, water
The sun shines brightly down on Penny's place
The sun shines brightly down on the bay
The air's so clean it'll just take your mind away
Take your mind away
Take your mind away
Have you ever been south of Monterey
Barrancas carve the coast line and the chaparral flows to the sea
'Neath waves of golden sunshine
And have you ever been north of Morro Bay
The south coast plows the sea
And the people there are of the breed
They don't need electricity
Water, water, cool cascades of clear, clear water
The sun dance final scene sets the hills ablaze.
Horizon edges quick up the mountain's way.
Have you ever been down Salinas way?
Where Steinbeck found the valley
And he wrote about it the way it was in his travelin's with Charley
And have you ever walked down through the sycamores
Where the farmhouse used to be
There the monarch's autumn journey ends
On a windswept cyprus tree
Water getwater get yourself in that
Get yourself in that get yourself in that cool, clear, water
The sun shines brightly down on Penny's place
Get yourself in that water
The air's so clean that it just takes your mind away
Take your mind away
Take your mind away
Have you ever been to a festival, the Big Sur congregation?
Where Country Joe will do his show
And he'd sing about liberty
And the people there in the open air, one big family.
Yeah the people there love to sing and share
Their new found liberty
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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From The Spanish Of Villegas
'Tis sweet, in the green Spring,
To gaze upon the wakening fields around;
Birds in the thicket sing,
Winds whisper, waters prattle from the ground;
A thousand odours rise,
Breathed up from blossoms of a thousand dyes.
Shadowy, and close, and cool,
The pine and poplar keep their quiet nook;
For ever fresh and full,
Shines, at their feet, the thirst-inviting brook;
And the soft herbage seems
Spread for a place of banquets and of dreams.
Thou, who alone art fair,
And whom alone I love, art far away.
Unless thy smile be there,
It makes me sad to see the earth so gay;
I care not if the train
Of leaves, and flowers, and zephyrs go again.
poem by William Cullen Bryant
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A Beautiful Day
the fields are empty now
the grains have been harvested
the clouds drift and stay a while
on the side of the green mountain
still dressed with mists and fog
the trees line the path
the leaves are green and lush
i take as usual this morning walk
towards a hut beside a graveled path
a white heron arrives and lands
on a drying pond
the sun just shines to mark a
beautiful day
the pale horizon turns pastel blue
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Laurels Of Green
Trees filled with starlight
Wise rivers in the root of life
Cedar leaves banners of Solomon
White pine laugh with the elves
Poems of the ancient sequoias
Whispering forests by the sea
We are the fallen race of men
They have not been banished
They are free with no guilt or shame
They know no war like strife of man
They speak of the fire from above
We walk softly on velvet moss
Wild flowers, apple orchards, ferns
My darling have you heard?
Lets go out tonight in the moonlight
Blueberries grow free and wild
Eagles filled with grace and joy
Oak and basswood, grapevines
The grass awaits the savory rain
Solitude walks in the morning dew
Have you seen the magic islands?
Decorated with lavish palm trees
Coconuts, pineapples, breadfruit grow
Sandy beaches lit with tropic sun
Volcanoes rise like spires of mystery
Paradise by a sea of green blue dreams
Beads of seeds with spells of shamans
A crown of green that rules the night
Hear tides crash into the mountains side
Rain forests with tendrils of Eden
Tread on bareback mountains gloom
Where winds sing pure and free
Steep as love near precipitous gorges
Beauty walks amidst clouds and rainbows
Waterfalls fill with pristine melting snow
Streams feed the rivers of unyielding myth
Forests of shining green fill the valley
Stars glisten through the pines of night
Like ancient eyes that guard the earth
This land is filled with a mystic glow
Lovers of the great father sun
Old like legends of gnomes and moonbeams
No guile or pretense no masks to wear
Violets, peonies, orchids and the rose
Lilies on ponds and fields
Graced with the voice of song birds
Breezes in your hair of gold
Tales of the winds of old
When the trees ruled in gentle peace
Lovers need the laurels of green
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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Stormwind
I like to sit beside the fire
When the light is going down
I like to hear the wild wind blow outside my door
I have so much left to remember
I have so much left to forget
And I know I just dont have to search for more
But you want to change my world
Stay out of my life
Stormwind--youre just like a wind
Comin to drag me away
Stormwind--what can I say
I just dont want you to stay
I like to walk around in dreams at night
And play with kings and queens til the morning light
I like to wake up in the morning unaware
Of the fact that you are calling me
To ask me if I want to be
Someone who you could love and always care for
song performed by by Europe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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