Lovers Amidst The Star Fields
Has the forest and the wind spoke?
Have you heard the gleaning voice?
Pure with moons of Beethoven
Chopin wants to return home
Magnetic fields like monarch butterflies
Valleys where childhood smiles
Wordsworth knows the deep call
Quiet bucolic days that whisper innocents
Walks that graze the twilight
The sky anoints every true searcher
Will you walk the sea like a saint?
Will you feel the pure vision?
Passion needs grounding
Your intense kiss needs meadows
We are spiritual and nature surrounds
Stars will always preach mystery
Dawn belongs to the angels
Will your love have a narrow gate?
Beauty is a road for the quiet soul
Shall we hold hands as the moon rises?
Lovers amidst the star fields
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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Evermore
When time no longer brings me spring
When tendrils of sorrow begin to cling
I will walk on the corridor of tomorrow
Knowing that your love is still there
We have felt the mighty sun
Tender as a gentle father
Moonlight of lovers
We have heard the tides in wonder
Enjoy the hours together like flowers
Your warmth has showered me
Let the river take me home
When the stars call me to my home
Tears are the rain of the nighttime
Elegies with roses and their glory
I have felt the joy in the wind
I have seen the hand of love
Can you feel shadows of pine trees?
See the butterflies in the fields
I have walked amidst beauty
So shall I walk evermore
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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In June In Old Liscreagh
In a lush damp meadow in Liscreagh
In a rushy clump the brown hare lay
From predators well hid away
He doze and sleep for most of the day.
And at twilight he ventures out
For to graze in the pasture fields about
And under the starry cloak of night
He eats his fill in peace and quiet.
It's early Summer in Liscreagh
And badger and her cubs in the twilight gray
Through fields and meadows amble slow
And dig for grubs and earth worms by hedgerow.
And after early morning showers
The old fields in their Summer flowers
In the noon sunshine look fresh and green
And Nature at her best is seen.
And meadows mown for silage and hay
Scent sweetly in June in old Liscreagh
And dark winged swallows in the sky
All day long chirping as they fly.
And butterflies as white as snow
From tree to hedge flit to and fro
And in leafy grove the chaffinch sing
In his own territory he's king.
From Coolikerane bog across the way
The curlew's flute heard in Liscreagh
And robin pipes his lively tune
In Summer's early days in June.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Untouched by Grace, but not by Snow
Waking up, noticing the ground
To my surprise I am surround by snow
Every detail in which was lay
With perfect precise wonder
In this most daring betray of beauty
And all is quiet
All is so annoyingly quiet
The dirt that is covered peeks through the ground
Destroying what was once beauty
That was pronounced by the glistened snow
And all I can do is wonder
How this world become simple to lay
When sleep takes us on we lay
And all is deeply quiet
Our dreams become our wonder
Weather we stand on solid ground
An undefined map layer out by snow
Creates to us sleeping beauty
But what is this beauty?
And where does it lay?
What is understood to be a lie as white as snow
And all has become a false quiet
Life, which puts our burdens to the ground
And here we are left to wonder
To whom to we place our wonder
The one who holds onto your beauty?
Who picks you up off the ground
And will be contempt as you lay
This is the lovely quiet
Dawn, of our love as pure as snow
To ask what is this snow
Pure, grace, love to which we wonder
Making this moment freeze in quiet
Holding unto this betrayed beauty
Which pours unto us as we lay
To the emissive ground
To become as pure as snow is beauty
But do we wonder under stars we lay?
And all was quiet as the snow flake touched ground
The nature of her beauty
The nature of her beauty
~
her pale soft skin
pure like untouched fields of snow
her lips red like the roses petal
feather like in their kiss
those eyes warm like the earth
feed my soul with a richness of passion
the depth of which is limitless
bury my heart into hers
let me lay amongst her nature
let me rejoice her beauty
let her words sing to me
the essence of her soul
place my hands in hers firmly
that I may feel their warmth
holding eternally
there is a beauty undying
embedded into my heart
and its all in her nature
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Ode To The Voices in the Wind
Voices in the wind so silent
But thou art so triumphant
With a divine hand you create sunlight
By the way you walk in the twilight
Darkness falls in a waterfall of sound
But in truth you never drowned
Hark the voice in the scarce crowd
Whom the voice is proud
Of the luck that commands your strife
Your treasures include a knife
You’re the shinning star of beauty
Others shone mutely
You seek a quiet room where life can roam
In a dress of pale silk you return home
Power, Providence and Prejudice you destroy all
Your strides bring Peace, Pleasure and Pride for those you call
Your home is a quiet place, a cottage on a riverbank
But then you’re a Goddess with no need for rank
You ride an ocean of clarity and beauty which is you
Like a queen you command a battalion, which is true
Thou art but a child, but your love diminishes war
A child and Goddess as one you will soar
I was told all this by one person more
A voice in a wind was all I saw.
There are voices in the wind said the God
But to your face all I could do was nod
poem by James Davies
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Fields Of Gold
Youll remember me when the west wind moves
Upon the fields of barley
Youll forget the sun in his jealous sky
As we walk in the fields of gold
So she took her love
For to gaze awhile
Upon the fields of barley
In his arms she fell as her hair came down
Among the fields of gold
Will you stay with me, will you be my love
Among the fields of barley
Well forget the sun in his jealous sky
As we lie in the fields of gold
See the west wind move like a lover so
Upon the fields of barley
Feel her body rise when you kiss her mouth
Among the fields of gold
I never made promises lightly
And there have been some that Ive broken
But I swear in the days still left
Well walk in the fields of gold
Well walk in the fields of gold
Many years have passed since those summer days
Among the fields of barley
See the children run as the sun goes down
Among the fields of gold
Youll remember me when the west wind moves
Upon the fields of barley
You can tell the sun in his jealous sky
When we walked in the fields of gold
When we walked in the fields of gold
When we walked in the fields of gold
song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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World of Empty Tombs
Sacrosanct blue waters pure and timeless
Eyes of the sun look upon the fields
Something inside belonging to mystery
The hope that we have not totally blown it
Feelings of nothing negotiated
Nothing for sale or on display
Deep in the eternal now
Self-discovery without fences
Warm meadows where butterflies sing
Rest deep in your dreams where love lives
So much of me is not here
So much lives in awe and in wonder
Beyond the karmic wheel
So much is innocent like beauty
Part of me plays in the resounding joy
The world of sureness is deeper than logic
Guardian angels live in this world
The world where roses sing praise
The world of empty tombs
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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Eternal Forests
Fate circles the moon of desire
We are the earth circling time
Her kiss has rivers with deer
Eagles fly over cliffs of granite
Lovers of ember centuries
Past the tears past the fears
The thunder of buffalo herds
Mountain streams like Eden
No armies or galleons
Oak grow as the mighty wind
Our bed has ancestry
Lovers share their dreams
When the land was open
No signs, no ownership
Meadows of stars shine
We are the future laughter
We are the dreams of warriors
They know they must die
They know they must be brave
Feel them in your bright kiss
Passion filled with battles
Feel their canoes along the waters
Your arms are their arms
Kiss your warriors that stand
They are dying for a way of life
Their blood cries from sacred ground
Your eyes like doves
Your dreams of fire and broken arrows
Hold me like a shaman of stolen land
Share your joy and sorrow
Ghost of sweet streams and feathers
Making love by quiet rivers
Warriors that once blessed the sky
The legions come with their chains
They bring reservations
They bring peace treatise with broken tongues
Love me on this hot bed of soul
The night has ancient eyes
Hear the wind bring tears of Cochise
See the shadows like war dances
See the broken wings of the hawk
We must kiss the future when morning rules
We must remember all their visions
Love is a circle of great seasons
Blend into me like a thousand full moons
Tecumseh sighs in the Ohio valley
Make them move west until they are gone
My love the land cries in your heart
These braves of the new world
Panther in the sky
Trail of tears in your loving thighs
We love in hidden valleys and cold mountains
Sacred burial grounds whisper
Let me hold your warrior soul
I am your lover here and now yet pierced
We are ancient lovers waiting for eternal forests
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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Theopathy
Evening memory,
whisper from your sweet flower sight,
as birds float delight.
World beauty,
sow some sweet simple spring season,
sky and sun without end.
Things combine
And seem to make little sense
When the great Beauty is bold
Singing its own song intense...
Sensations and seasons are best
When sowed in the simplicity
Of the pureness of poetry.
The dancing desert does delight
In the epiphanic voice,
Crying in the wilderness
Calling in the heart
Pleading in the mind, and
Claiming in the soul.
Beauty is the mysterious memory
Of what once was... and, by grace,
Shall someday return.
Known, unknown,
Wild, free, deep and true...
Nature speaks of
Gives hints toward, and
Causes contemplation for
What we know we barely know
And yet craving after
Do not understand...
Natures cryptic call
Seizes the soul and hungers the heart
Of all who willingly hear, and quietly listen
To the Voice
Crying, crying, and crying tears of longing
Throughout our own wilderness trek...
Sunrises to find,
softly speak visions in light,
as butterflies show freedom of flight.
Universe magnanimous,
moons and stars brilliant to send,
deep divine eternal hope from the final true,
Friend.
poem by Smoky Hoss
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What Are We Missing?
Drops of rain
Wear upon an old bit of forgotten copse
Laying alone in a fallow field
All the different shapes and shades
Of stains and grains
Write the color and flavor
Of the soul in the wood.
-Who this beauty shall ever see?
To whom is it given, as intended,
A beautiful gesture
Of grace and love
Redolent mystery, only
In the quiet parts of nature...
Oh, how much more
Pure and simple beauty
In our daily hurry and worry
Do we miss
And even care not to see?
-By the making of humanities own hands,
And blindly narcissistic plans
We numbly linger in our loss
Trapped deep in a self-idolatrous foss.
The wonder of nature we can no longer see
Transfixed in our own vain absurdity.
No longer aching to get out-of-doors
(that pure passion villianously absorbed
by man's own created
electronic whores)
What a wretched price to pay
By those who willingly decide
Always inside to 'safely' stay.
We all poets would be
If only our spiritual eyes were opened
For all of life's beauty to see.
Those who refuse to try
Sadly inside may die,
For of them none shall ever invision
What we, who dare to look, find
Nor never feel
What we, who dare to touch, intwine
Can never know
What we, who dare to think, 'get'
And absolutely never understand
What we, who dare to pause....... can in no way ever forget.
Often, the sky weeps with rain
The earth tumbles with pain
Nature moans and groans as part of the cost
For paradise lost,
Longing for divine affection
And human attention;
Tis true:
Love is what everything and everyone is after,
From the simple slave all the way to the Master.
For God's own sweetest kiss
Is what we surely most miss,
In this
Our own blind, self abyss.
'..... there is nothing, not even crime, more opposed to poetry, to philosophy, ay, to life itself, than this incessant business.'
- Henry David Thoreau.
poem by Smoky Hoss
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Bells of Hope
Noble bells ring at dusk
Narrow alley ways, cobble stone
Hope is a flower in a window
We graze the fields of searchers
Your face is in the sea
We leave the chaos with a smile
The sandy beach is mellow with trust
Let the waves wash your pretense away
Pure golden prayer from a friend
The wind has settled into a breeze
Dreams become a soft voice
I listen to the bells drift across the island
Voices of angels whisper in the tide
The first stars come out with love
Capture moments of justification
The bell tower is lit in the distance
Silent trees live in peace
Grace shines on mankind
Bells of dusk ring with hope
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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You Dwell In Me
You dwell in me my beloved
Ah and beyond
Inside me there's a heart, exists there just for keeping you inside
You're the reason that's why beauties exist and I believe in
Every time you'r there, In my soul
Butterflies fly to blue skies sway
Taking with them the soul within
Inside me lies love and colorful butterflies
Angels have caves covered with veils
No one can take away the love, love stray
While lovers return home angels cry home alone.
Return home beloved bring the love back home
Return home one time may angels stop their cry's
May peace once again comes home
Im here alone, afraid is my soul
Storms out there people's cry my heart can't more bear
Children's bare hands
Return back my beloved bring the love which is lost
Tell him here is his real home.
Ah beloved!
poem by Sossi Khachadourian
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The Wind
I felt the blowing of the wind
As it entered my breadth from deep within
It entered my soul, and then wouldn't let go
It is the wind, from whence life begins.
The Wind she is know by boy and man
And whomever sits, or walks or stands
For the wind is known, when she has blown
And when she does not, the world it moans.
The Wind, she is my friend
As a boy journeys through the world of man
She strengthens the soul, when she has blown
So onto her breadth, I will forever hold.
The name of the wind, I will call it Kim
As she enters my breadth from deep within
She surrounds my soul, and will not let go
Kim, is the name of the wind.
The wind is a woman dear
As beautiful as the stars painted in the sky
And when she sends her kiss, Men then wish
And the boys just kneel down to cry.
The Wind she is my breeze I do believe
From the steps I walk to the air I breathe
And when she touches my face, my sorrows are erased
For she is the wind, and the wind, she is my breeze.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Orion's Belt
In the bleak shadow of self doubt
Where clocks chime midnight
Morning stands with great lions
We wait for redemption
Self-acceptance with out chains
Rooted by rivers that over flow
Like a sparrow on a winters day
Kings highways made of slavery
Divorced from the sweat of good men
Raise the banner of the conquered
All this gold buried deep inside
Journey into crystal sorrow
Upon the hills of morning joy sings
Distant like bells of hope
We search ourselves only to see caves
Caves filled with guards
Bribe the illusions of Macbeth
Desire for power stands like a general
Confidence in money and armor
Confidence in others weakness
Confidence in entitlement
The soul is found in pure simple love
This battle rages in the essence
Dual nature of the sphinx
Free from rage
Roman armies fight the red sea
Swords sheathed without blood
Vendetta tried in the courts of mercy
Salvaged in olive gardens
Hidden in catacombs along the river
Purged in desert righteousness
Delivered from dark clouds
Feel the rain heal the barren land
Fruit trees grow again in the meadows
The children have come back with songs
Time has brought a heart willing to forgive
She smiles like the innocent moon
Eyes that just want something real
Bright and filled with new stars
She has walked in the strange rain
What do you see on the tree far away?
Some dream that has no dark sky?
Sincerity ravages me
Her long hair flows like the sea
Her voice sings like the free wind
Romance escapes in a forest of doves
Touch the flame of the mystic sun
So it shall be love shines like the sun
Music has garlands from ancient dawn
Spirit from oracles of freedom
Chorus of the kiss of moonlight
Eagles fly like chords of timeless poems
Coda of Odysseys like mountain winds
Art is a temple where sacred secrets whisper
Join together with Apollo and Dionysus
The masters and the novice hold hands
We join the celebration with tireless flutes
Sing like the rivers finding their mission
Paint the enigmatic times
Let the fire of love blaze our hearts
No countries or lands to return too
Spirit calls Abraham to promises
Gates of eternity seen by the sojourner
Leave this world for another home
Hear the call of the creator
We are the temporal amidst the eternal
We are the doomed amidst the saved
Travel with the greatest hope of all
Gather together and feel the flames
Unity is a circle of fire
We are here to awake to hear and see
Man does not live by bread alone
Does death end it?
Why do those stars shine?
The leaves blow thru history like moments
Beauty rises with every blazing sun
Can you feel the color of the living day?
Waterfalls flow like wild dreams
Roses pulsate with radiance
The moon is bright like a free white bird
Venus shines and Saturn’s rings spin
Past the wars and hate can you still marvel?
Tonight the earth is traveling as it turns
Full of creation amidst the stars
Step out into Orion’s belt
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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Love, Lust; Passion
Love is a complicated word,
Love and Lust can be misunderstood,
Lust is Red, always hungry for more,
Love is white, and as pure as Angels wings,
Feeling both at the same time can be magical,
Emotions take over your hopeful body,
Your soul filling with Star Dust and Twilight wonders,
Lust can be ignored,
Love can be forgotton,
But together, they are a Need,
Love and Lust, ever feel it? Its known as passion,
If you have Passion,
You are very lucky,
I feel it, Love, Lust; Passion,
But he does not,
I am floating alone along my own Milky Way,
Hoping, praying, one day,
He will feel my Passion,
Hear my Heart,
And float eagerly along my way.
poem by Jodie Louise Pollock
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I Pray for Thee
Logo of the sun
Beginnings and change
Planting seeds that will grow
Echoes of the lonely heart
Walk the quiet fields
Time is a seed
Grow until time is no more
I think of you my love like a rose
Wild flowers in the meadow
Mystery like a moonlit river
We are the embrace of the wind
Spirit of the desert stars
My thoughts will reach you
Maybe by the ancient sea
Maybe by the forest green
Prayer is the deepest love
I pray for thee my love
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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In My Every Walk In Nature
In my walks in Nature great beauty I've seen
Like bluebells in bloom on the ditch of bohreen
When hawthorns were in their white blooms of the May
And nesting birds sung in the woods far away.
In my walks in Nature strange voices I hear
Like the song of the whipbird so whip like and clear
In the wooded gully hidden in the brake
A voice from once heard one can never mistake.
In my every walk in Nature and I've had more than a few
To my great surprise I do learn something new
From Nature we learn something new every day
We do never stop learning as some like to say.
I have loved Mother Nature since I was a boy
And my walks in her quiet places I thoroughly enjoy
Her wildbirds chirp and whistle on every bush and tree
And her beauty is everywhere all around me.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Kiss Everything
Kiss for God..
Kiss to the world.
Kiss for empty space.
Kiss for the planets.
Kiss for the stars.
Kiss to the sun.
Kiss to the moon.
Kiss to the sky.
Kiss for fruits.
Kiss to the clouds.
Kiss to the mountain.
Kiss to the grounds.
Kiss to the lakes.
Kiss to the warm dew.
Kiss for trees.
Kiss to the rivers.
Kiss to the fields.
Kiss kiss for flowers.
Kiss grasslands.
Kiss the contains of the world to give peaces.
Kiss for dogs.
Kiss for cats.
Kiss for mouses.
Kiss for crocodiles.
Kiss for fish.
Kiss for turtles.
Kiss for penguins.
Kiss for snakes.
Kiss for bears.
Kiss for tigers.
Kiss for lions.
Kiss for rhinoceros.
Kiss for butterflies.
Kiss for rabbits.
kiss them and give them life.
Not enough only the kiss to say how amazing my nature.
Love them couse them was our life.
Tonight I Feel Connected
Brave moonbeams penetrate my soul
Reflections of the suns humility
Jupiter decorates the serene night
Star gazing brings shooting stars
I feel sane amidst all the chaos
Creation seems to have a Holiness
Crickets sound like great gentle choirs
We all should listen to Thoreau
Silence and solitude our great teachers
Wisdom whispers in a vast garden
Beethoven would take long walks
Poetry needs connection with the constant
Prayer and meditation makes the heart burn
I walk behind Wordsworth and Shelley
Silent boughs loom in nights moonlit shadows
Tonight I am in the presence of the noble
Nature connects us in divine hallways
Beauty is the fabric of woven light
Time lives in circles of mystic art
The creators mind is filled with love
Tonight I feel connected
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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My Memories Of Childhood Are Fading
My memories of childhood are fading as I grow older and more gray
Yet in my wild flights of fancy I get the sweet scent of hay
In the mown meadows of Summer in the far northern July
And upwards above the rank rushes the brown lark carols as he fly.
I'm not what you would call a poet I only pen doggerel
Yet I can relate to my memories and I too have stories to tell
Of my childhood close to Nature in the fields and groves by the Town
Where the deciduous green leaves of Summer in late Autumn faded to brown.
Where male bullfinch the quiet sort of a fellow in his cloak of pink, black and slate blue
A beautiful bird of rare beauty to his wife till death he is true
At dawn at the edge of his borders his quiet though familiar song sing
The orchardists they do not like them they eat their fruit tree buds in the Spring.
In my childhood I grew to love Nature and like every other country boy
To me the voice of the cuckoo in late Spring was always a thing of great joy
But I grew to manhood too quickly and time for me too did not wait
And each day I live sees me closer and closer to my use by date.
I fancy I still hear the dipper his voice is not distant 'twould seem
On a black river rock in the shallows in the heart of the babbling stream
His snow white breast to me familiar his wings and his back darkish brown
And as he pipes forth his scratchy notes his head always bobs up and down.
My memories of childhood are fading suppose nothing ever does last
And 'tis said we should live for tomorrow still we all remember the past
And still in my wild flights of fancy the robin sings on the hedgerow
And in the rank grass in the headland the shy pheasant out of sight crow.
poem by Francis Duggan
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