En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Trees

Charcoal army on chilled horizon
Guarding a lonely sunset
You watch us come and go
In our ever changing regalia
Always there to soothe our failure
Whe fickle wind does blow.
Childhood summers that rest in our memory
You were always there
Those days when we ran free
-Gave our picnics welcome shade
And filtered sun in quiet glade.
Snow carpeted meadow
Is where i feel no pain
Your wooden arms rigor mortis feign
Where once Mother Nature sat, at will
Creating beauty that you embrace still.
As dew hangs on to summer leaf
Autumn waits in shadow
Like a silent thief.
Yet heaven's colours still lie bebeath.
I rest my eyes in spinney, alone
Far from madding telephone
And raucous greed that grabs and pulls
A flower amid the raging bulls.
It is peace to a child and adult you bring
With neither seldom realising
Your artist's touch that grasps the sky
Will feel the century flashing by
Yet stand to wait for infant eye.
A wonder i cannot compare
Mute trees that whisper- always there.

poem by Kevin East
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Ah The Trees

Ah the trees soothe the mind
Take time to breathe the air
With the breeze the puppeteer with touch so fair
- They duet, with delicate wave and muted joy
A minuet for bygone kings or tinker boy.
Ah the trees, I leave my madness
As I run through crowded street
Diesel perfume will never smell as sweet
-As the meadow kissed by the breeze
Conducted by the trees.
Finding childhood summers I had lost.
Or winter wood with decor frost.
Ah the trees, where we rest our eyes in shades of green
And butterflies now seldom seen
Flicker in the sun.
When your lips touched mine and we were one
Lost in the rat- race we would run.
Beauty now we find in books
Yet Mother Nature has kept her looks.
Ah the trees, charcoal black as tempests
Like to scatter fear with lightning strike
But you stand strong against the sky
Like troops you watch the bullets fly
Swaying until the storms respite
Laying still in the morning light
Revived as hoar frost does yield to sun
Miracles for everyone.
And as birdsong imparts a healing trill
Trees dance, we embrace
And stand so still.

poem by Kevin East
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I want to feel the touch of spring

The mountain waits for the snow thru the hot summer,
hurt and burnt by the sun, yet believes the touch of snow
It snows and covers the mountain like a blanket of love
I want to be the mountain to feel the touch of snow.

The sand of a dried river waits for the rain to shower,
dried and chared by heat, yet believes the touch of rain.
It rains and fills the river, to bring the life again
I want to be the dried river to feel the touch of rain.

The flower waits for the spring thru the harsh winter
Frozen and frosted by cold, yet belives the touch of spring
It warms up and the spring arrives, to flower and spread happiness around
I want to be the flower to feel the touch of spring.

This is the law of nature we have to wait thru summer and winter
hurt, burnt, bleeded, and freezed, yet should believe the touch of spring
God will show Love for those who can enjoy his summer and winter
I want to believe in Love and feel the touch of spring.

poem by Arayath Jathin
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Ah Summer

Ah, summer
Holds me in its embrace.
That perfumed kiss
On the breeze
Winging bliss through the trees.
They dress so fair,
And jewels of sunlight everywhere
Dancing across that sleeping lake.
Drying dewdropp tears
As cooler dawn does break.

Ah, summer
Warms me with its unseen love.
She walks the meadow
As stars above
Tell me just to wait.
Our hearts will beat in time
With fate.
In the evening
Of new dreams.
As love is never as it seems.

Ah, summer
I fix my gaze
Upon red skies
And fill my days,
'Til sunset dies
With picnics,
Kisses
And butterflies.
That sunlit ocean
Eases my soul.
And I watch memories
Sail past.
She made my heart just rock and roll.
Maybe I'm still tied to the mast.
So let us drink deep
From summers' glass
Because winter waits
And all things must pass.

poem by Kevin East
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The Autumn Sing

Here’s the autumn sing…
A symphony from its falling leaf…
Catching the wind from a future winter…
Rolling through a shy light…

Oh autumn shall not die in winter…
As a promise summer will surely come….
Ah autumn is a second spring…
Not all could see, all leaf is flower….

Autumn warn a terrible winter phase….
No one listen, No one will hear it…
As it is only the sound of silence….
Who can hold an indefinite sound...?

No one embrace the autumn….
As it is only a sad phase…
It gives nothing but an autumn chill….
Spring always comes with a better glory…

Oh autumn with its broken feather…
Could other season patch it up again?
No other season will devote their being….
Autumn suffers alone….

Autumns leaf keep on falling…
Spring comes cheerfully…
Summer comes strongly….
Winter always comes coldly…..
But autumn changes its face every time….

No one knows the differences….
Just the secret of the nature…
Why can’t it’d be a spring?
Why can’t it’d be summer?
Why can’t it’d be winter?

Ah autumn dance again between all the falling leaf…
It enjoys its sadness…
It embraces its pain….
As only from autumn all painter learn…
How to capture a true hidden beauty…

All speaks the same in every season….
But autumn remain different…..
For autumn is an alone singer…
Only a genuinely soul painter could witness its beauty….
That’s all the autumn need….
A silence audience....
Who can make other being see….
A glance of its beauty...

poem by Eva Clara Harahap
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We Are Alive

I can feel the air around me,
I can see the people laughing and singing,
I can be the spirit in the trees,
I can fly with the birds in the sky.
I can believe what I want to belive.
I can say and do what I want.
I can be who I want to be,
I can follow my dreams.
I can taste the life within me,
I can smell the sweet breath of my soul,
I can be with the people before me,
I can think of those to come.
I can see through the eyes of others,
I can put myself in their shoes.
I can feel everything around me,
I can see the people laughing,
I can hear the sobs of an infant,
I can taste the love of a mother.
I can see the lives of others,
I can imagine what they are thinking,
I can guess what they are like.
I can see the colors in the wind,
I can hear the breath of god whispering his knowlage,
I can taste the strength he gave me,
I can feel the life in my veins.
I can stand here and think of all these things,
I can watch the day fall into night,
I can wait for what tomorrow will bring to me.
I can carry the word of god to others,
I can show them the light of hope.
I can show people the truth,
I can bring you the message of life,
I can bring you the knowlage of faith.
I can run through the prairies and forest,
I can touch everything around me.
I can hear my heartbeat in my ears,
I can feel the passing spirits,
I can smell the warmth of the Earth,
I can feel the live with in me.
I can tell you you can too,
I can show you the way to be free,
I can bring you to know your mother, Earth.
I can try my hardest to show you,
I can hope you'll understand,
Yet I know
It's up to you to welcome this power,
I know you can, just like
I can.
We are one with eachother,
We are one with the Earth,
She is our mother,
We are alive.

poem by Bethany Maxwell
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Believe

As trees are robbed of Autumn leaf
New colours congregate beneath
A tapestry just He could weave;
Sunset reminds us to believe.
Dawn's kiss awakes the winged choir
As dewdrops flee the leaves to bask
In promised warmth across our shire
As morning mist removes its mask
Sweet childhood memories retrieved
And seeing is to be believed.
With Winter's breath the night is sealed
A starlit Eden is revealed, moon rising over open field
And muted trees that long to speak of frozen beauty,
Tonight just creak; silly people never stop to muse
Just shake the stardust from their shoes
For such times we all then grieve
Life's sonnet rhymes when we believe.
From Winter's bite comes Spring's soft kiss
And Nature's metamorphosis
From shrouded, clouded angry sky
Emerges Heaven's butterfly.
With bleat of lamb and budded morn
Heaven smiles upon the earth reborn.
Artist and poet on balmy eve
Each steal one moment to believe.
Our wine toasts absent friend the Sun
Who spreads honey over lost dreams once spun
Across meadow to bathe shy flower in hope,
Then piercing treetops; God's kaleidoscope.
The raging hiss of Summer's bliss
Duets with breeze the soul to ease
With perfumed promise lovers receive
One breath from heaven mimes- believe.

poem by Kevin East
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Eternal Love

Rest in the Lord
And know.
You will be happy again.
Free of anguish
Clear of pain.
And in your Heaven
Burning stars
Will light your heart.
And heal the scars.

Do not
Cry tears of grief.
But weep with joy for your belief.
Unknown colours
You'll explore.
Forever young
Your songs unsung.
Wait for you
At Heaven's door.

Just know
That your soul will touch
Love.
We can only ask as much.
Two hearts exchanging a smile,
Wait for sunset style.

Her kiss
Flies on a breeze.
Your flower sways and bends.
Look up
When on your knees.
And watch as love ascends.
Now,
Listen to your heartbreak mend.

So rest in the Lord.
And know
Your midnight blue awaits.
All fears left at the gates.
As loneliness dissipates.
Reach out
And take the hand
Of new tomorrows.
And understand
Promises of eternity,
Erasing sorrows.
To love so free.

poem by Kevin East
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Summer Wind

The summer wind, came blowin' in
From across the sea
It lingered there, to touch you hair
And walk with me
All summer long, we sang a song
And strolled the golden sand
Two sweethearts, and the summer wind
Like painted kites, the days and nights went flyin' by
The world was new, beneath a blue umbrella sky
Then softer than, a piper man one day it called to you
And I lost you, to the summer wind
The autumn wind, and the winter winds have come and gone
And still the days, the lonely days go on and on
And guess who sighs his lullabies through nights that never end
Well my fickle friend, the summer wind
That old summer wind
Talkin' 'bout the summer wind
The summer wind

song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One of these days

This could have been just another day
To watch the world go by in silence
To stare at the lights
And it seems to come from nowhere
And mesmerizing those moments
You held me in your arms
Perhaps, maybe
One of these days
The leaves start to fall
And flew into the sky
Like those clouds that ran fast
That can never be hides
Through the passing wind
As you had promised
Beyond the highest tower
That has been drowned
In the ocean of tears

This could have been just another hour
To sit beneath the bridge of stone
And stare the sunset
And wait for another day
To cross the streets for you to reach out
And find the word goodbye
That I don’t know how
Somehow, one of these days
You’d rather say hello, and
Forget who I am
Like those empty skies
That longing for the stars
Waiting for a long day
To see them dazzling as neon lights
Like those words you had sworn
For more than a hundred times
That make my heart dance in a glow

This could have been just another minute
To embrace the cold breeze
That was passed my way
And to hold the shadow of the sun
Vanishing along within my palm
As holding dreams
That can never be mined
Maybe, one of these days
I will be as an autumn leaf
That was been forgotten by your heart
That dies in your soul
One of these days
I will be the tress,
Dancing in the wind
I will be the lights,
Reflected on water shade
That cannot be held, neither can you feel me

poem by Cheryl Aldea
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Autumn Fair

You long to see bright Autumn days,
With colorful leaves on yonder trees
In tones of yellow, orange and red
Before Nature's annual freeze.

The colors will burst in every direction,
The tree boughs no longer are green,
Nuts dropping to the leaf strewn ground
Where large, orange pumpkins now are seen.

You long want to see the hues of an Autumn Fair
And the bright sun rising above the distant hill.
You long feel the coolness on your cheeks,
to hear the wind's steady shrill.

Autumn waves her magic wand,
The aroma of leaves you will consume,
The enchanting days of summer are gone,
The land is overwhelmed by Nature's perfume.

There are memories of other Autumn days
That your heart will recall as you ponder,
The gigantic trees and the dropping leaves
As they gave you a special moment of wonder.

But now - you sit before a window
Watching the soft and steady precipitation,
Far from the picturesque Autumn days -
Snow accumulating without any hesitation.

poem by Joseph T. Renaldi
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Sonnet XL. From The Same.

FAR on the sands, the low, retiring tide,
In distant murmurs hardly seems to flow;
And o'er the world of waters, blue and wide,
The sighing summer wind forgets to blow.
As sinks the day-star in the rosy west,
The silent wave, with rich reflection glows:
Alas! can tranquil nature give me rest,
Or scenes of beauty soothe me to repose?
Can the soft lustre of the sleeping main,
Yon radiant heaven, or all creation's charms,
'Erase the written troubles of the brain,'
Which memory tortures, and which guilt alarms?
Or bid a bosom transient quiet prove,
That bleeds with vain remorse and unextinguish'd love!

poem by Charlotte Smith
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Eternal Autumn

Eternal autumn blankets our world
Touching leaves of colors swirled
Embryonic buds never to see light
Rest has fallen upon the chilled night
Nature quiets for an evening of rest
As song birds settle into their nests
Long are the eves of autumn blessed

Away are the days of warmth and green
Utterly spectacular is the colorful scene
Though the winds blow fingers through
Under blankets of moss trickles icy dew
Mother Nature has chosen her one season
Neither you nor I will ever know the reason

poem by Kim Schilling
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Beauty In Summer

What beauty is reborn
On such a summer's morning.
As broken hearts still torn
Take hope within the dawning.
That healing song
My soul does kiss
From Blackbird's serenade of bliss.
Hung in the gallery
Of memory
- This art.
Daubed with colours
The sky set free.
To start
A raindance of serenity.
To enhance
With scent of bloom
Such summer beauty.
From winter's gloom.
That tinkling piano of silver stream,
I lie with you
-And trees
To dream.
To quaff that fruit of summer wine,
And share your lips
Two twins so fine!
- And sweet.
One heartbeat,
Then sunset bleeds.
We walk through
Surf caressing beach
Where gold has shone
And pleasure leads.
As stars now reach
To touch your eyes,
I just dissolve
At beauty's prize.
Remember that
We are so blessed
Even before the day has dressed.
And the moon
Lays all below to rest.
Such beauty beats in the wings
Of the butterfly
Summer beauty brings.

poem by Kevin East
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Summer Wind

The summer wind, came blowin' in - from across the sea
It lingered there, to touch your hair and walk with me
All summer long, we sang a song - and then we strolled that golden sand
Two sweethearts, and the summer wind
Like painted kites, those days and nights - they went flyin' by
The world was new, beneath a blue - umbrella sky
Then softer than, a piper man - one day it called to you
I lost you, I lost you to the summer wind
The autumn wind, and the winter wind - they have come and gone
And still the days, those lonely days - they go on and on
And guess who sighs his lullabies - through nights that never end
My fickle friend, the summer wind

song performed by by Westlife
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Just Another Day.

To wake up
To the perfume of the morning.
And breathe in
Skyline of pastel shade.
The miracle
Of a new world dawning.
And to rest my eyes
In greenest glade.
Call me a dreamer
If you may.
But it is never
Just another day.

To bathe
In Summer
Like a lazy river.
Twinkling
En route
To the ocean.
Nature playing the flute
In slow motion.
Rub my shoulders
With your lotion
That clings to the breeze.
And massage my pain
Away.
To ascend
To highest sky.
Call me a poet
Drunk with rhyme.
Drugged by beauty.
When moonsongs chime.
As with my darling
I lay.
But it is never
Just another day.

To sail
In that sea above.
So high
Where colours
Blow me
And my mind away.
Oh my,
To drink that music
Of the sky.
And beg a bleeding sunset
To stay.
To run through
An open frosted field.
The moon promising
All will be revealed.
His symphony shines
On the orchestra below.
As notes are played
By falling snow.
Hold my hand
With your warming glove.
As we dance
Dressed in white
In our snowflake love.
Call me romantic
With just sad songs to display.
But forever is never
Just another day.

poem by Kevin East
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Old Oak

In the shadow of solitude now I see Your eyes,
that so faithfully carry about the light
through my thoughts so dark,
and the pen trembles in the hand,
waiting for the prodigal son's acknowledgement.
My one and only, acknowledgements arrive in solitude's embrace,
just like tears, and where there is a tear, there is love,
always faithful and unbribable, invisible but so real
that you can touch it with thoughts
and with the fiery breath in the infinity of solitude.
I admit to using my verses as ransom for my guilt,
(and guilt is my silence) ,
and I listen to the rumor
that perpetually, like a bat,
whirls across the lonely poet's street.
They say that me and You,
my one and only,
are fantasy, but a pen immersed in ink.
But You know, don't You,
that me and You are perfectly real, full of wishes,
dreams and memories.
My one and only, I am listening to the whisper of the wind
in this warm, dreamy summer night...
It is silent, horribly silent without You,
and the wind's whisper is dying down, farther away, oh so far,
as if called by death to its black hearse,
and I have waited for so many days, months and years to appear,
to bring Your voice to me,
gentle, soft, warm and yearning,
but it is so silent, oh so silent now,
that I can hear the screams of solitude
chase away memories
into this warm summer night,
my one and only, I am standing in the shadow of the dignified oak,
and I am looking into his empty sleepiness,
as if its playfulness left along with You,
it is silent like the wind.
Its dear, green, eternally waking young leaves,
who used to whisper in Your vicinity, untrammeled and confidential,
are completely silent now, completely dead.
Now I am trembling in the shadow of our oak,
fearfully looking at it as it drags its dignified old face along the ground,
its memories are as lively as mine.
Once, yes, once the memories,
who live so inaudibly,
shall become so weak,
so humanly weak,
that they shall find their dark home
next to our wooden crosses.

© Walter William Safar

poem by Walter William Safar
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The Eyes

Rest Master, for we be a-weary, weary
And would feel the fingers of the wind
Upon these lids that lie over us
Sodden and lead-heavy.

Rest brother, for lo ! the dawn is without !
The yellow flame paleth
And the wax runs low.

Free us, for without be goodly colours,
Green of the wood-moss and flower colours,
And coolness beneath the trees.

Free us, for we perish
In this ever-flowing monotony
Of ugly print marks, black
Upon white parchment.

Free us, for there is one
Whose smile more availeth
Than all the age-old knowledge of thy books:
And we would look thereon.

poem by Ezra Pound
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Now that you are away

Now that you are away
days are falling apart
and I feel
like the stripped chestnut tree
that stands skeleton against the sky

and the colours of flowers are trying
to match your eyes
while a drawling sun
at of the beginning of winter
hangs in the sky.

The rest and peace
are suddenly gone
while I walk purposeless
up and down in the garden.

Bougainvilleas pierce me
when I cut the stems
and at places I am scratched
and there are other places
where I bleed
and I wonder what it takes
to let a perfect flower grow,

or do you look past it
while the glare of the sun
almost blinds you
and do not know how lucky you are
when you have all ready got it
and all others fade away in her shade?

poem by Gert Strydom
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Autumn

The early evening sun set
brings blazing colors
red, yellow, many shades of orange
the beautiful painted clouds flowing so gently
the landscape changing so beautifully to the season
the trees changing colors and the leaves falling so gracefully
the cold brisk wind bring chills to the body
the autumn season brings lovely scenes
mother nature painting at her best
to bring the painting to life so splendidly
birds soaring south for the winter season
parents raking leaves, kids jumping in piles
laughter fills the air, what a pair
the beautiful time of the year
autumn the season of change and beauty
mother nature at her best
creating endless landscapes, so breathless

poem by Michael Peterson
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Achieve Goals of Dreams!

Innocent animal pleasure of child is harmless!
Playful quest urges him to do so to get satisfaction.
With a little knowledge he likes pictures, colours
and enjoys beautiful things in dress and all things!

Perfectionist loves to see beauty in all activities,
Loves beauty of Nature, beautiful things ever,
Loves to do in a beautiful way whatever he loves;
Aesthetic nature grows since childhood on sure!

Then thinking age begins him to feel about drawbacks;
Seeks loneliness in Peaceful places of Nature at first;
His taste of beauty diverts him towards Nature's beauty:
Sea, sky, misty hills, snow mountains, smooth rivers,
Green meadows, smiling flowers, moon and stars....!

He goes to such places often far from the madding lads;
Gets peace of mind and communes with Nature in toto;
Becomes also a mystic soon enjoying the bliss endless!
He regains new spirit full of enthusiasm and begins life
Again from the scratch to achieve goals of his dreams...!

poem by Ramesh T A
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