Milkmaid
The girl's far treble, muted to the heat,
calls like a fainting bird across the fields
to where her flock lies panting for her voice,
their black horns buried deep in marigolds.
They climb awake, like drowsy butterflies,
and press their red flanks through the tall branched grass,
and as they go their wandering tongues embrace
the vacant summer mirrored in their eyes.
Led to the limestone shadows of a barn
they snuff their past embalmed in the hay,
while her cool hand, cupped to the udder's fount,
distils the brimming harvest of their day.
Look what a cloudy cream the earth gives out,
fat juice of buttercups and meadow-rye;
the girl dreams milk within her body's field
and hears, far off, her muted children cry.
poem by Laurie Lee
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Don’t Little Girl
Don’t fall little girl
Don’t let them see you cry
Stand tall little girl
Keep your head held high
-
Don’t express little girl
Don’t let them see the pain in your eyes
Walk on little girl
Walk through all those pitiful lies
-
Don’t forget little girl
Don’t let them do it to you once more
Protect yourself little girl
There’s plenty more in store
-
Don’t hate little girl
That’s what they want you to do, they want to break you
Smile bright little girl, show them up
Try you’re hardest to be true
-
Don’t wait little girl
The world will move on without you
Move on little girl
Do what you need to do
-
Don’t look back little girl
You can’t change your past
Open your eyes little girl
Enjoy the world while it lasts
-
Live life little girl
Cause you only got one
Laugh loudly little girl
-
You’re you little girl
Haven’t you learned a lot?
But you’re also them little girl
In each of us you have fought
-
Some call you hope, little girl
You glow dim then turn bright
Some call you dreams, little girl
I know you are my dreams, I think of you every night
-
But to me, little girl
You will always just be mine
Guide us, little girl
Cause we both just want to be free
poem by Max Parriott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Don't Little Girl
Don’t fall little girl
Don’t let them see you cry
Stand tall little girl
Keep your head held high
~
Don’t express little girl
Don’t let them see the pain in your eyes
Walk on little girl
Walk through all those pitiful lies
~
Don’t forget little girl
Don’t let them do it to you once more
Protect yourself little girl
There’s plenty more in store
~
Don’t hate little girl
That’s what they want you to do
Smile bright little girl
Try you’re hardest to be true
~
Don’t wait little girl
The world will move on without you
Move on little girl
Do what you need to do
~
Don’t look back little girl
You cant change your past
Open your eyes little girl
Enjoy the world while it lasts
~
Live life little girl
Cause you only got one
Laugh loudly little girl
And put down you damn gun
~
You’re me little girl
Haven’t we learned a lot?
But your also them little girl
In each of us you have fought
~
Some call you hope, little girl
You glow dim then turn bright
Some call you dreams, little girl
Thinking of you every night
~
But to me, little girl
You will always just be me
Guide us, little girl
Cause we both just want to be free
poem by Amy Stuart
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Gullible
The Black Bird portents the gloom
As he drives home the night...
Muted tones of grey accent his shadow
Conjuring up visions of panic and fright;
As a drought of a hundred years
Where the Earth wrinkles and cracks
The Raven bodes poorly for this day
As the muted grey tones now turn to black;
Fashionably correct or understated...
The less is more philosophy-
Sophistication is borderline-ice cold-dry
As the Raven has gotten the better of me;
Lacking-oh so lacking in any warmth...
Driven to a dark chill of regret and woe
The Black Bird has shown its true colours
Ironically, telling me, what i needed to know;
poem by Theodora Onken
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Am Not that Girl...
I am not that girl
You once new
I am not that girl that
Ran every time life gave her troubles
I am not that girl
That needed a boost of courage from a line or drink
I am not that girl
Who cried every time you said goodbye to her
I am not that girl
Held on every word you said to her
I am not that girl
Who begged for your approval
I am not that girl
Who did not know right from wrong
I am not that girl.
Who mind was cloudy with shame of the past
I am not that girl
Doped up
I am not that girl
Who walked around with eyes closed
I am not that girl
poem by Ms. Anika Martinez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wild Roses
Flowers bloom
toward the sky
Reaching tall
Reaching high
to touch the endless
endless sky
Reaching tall
until they die
Thorny touch
lover's sigh
A field of roses
where they lie
Eyes towards
the starry sky
Reaching tall
Reaching high
Reaching until
until they die
In grassy meadow
there they lie
Hands apart
beneath the sky
Starlight shines
on silent eyes
that softly speak
their muted cries
On a bed of roses
there they lie
Reaching until
Until...
poem by Aron Heroux
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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[ Late August ]
Heat still sizzles in the fields
In August summer still yields
The sun shines to no regret
Wind sauntering 'til sunset
'though heat is being cool off by the rain
Preserving flowers, and meadow - green
But summer still taking what it brings
The August incense with fugacious wings
Bounty blooms, butterflies, bees are insane
Birds, crickets sing and the night listens
Summer's sky, bright burst so clear
It's the late August in summer's fair
Summer in August still in standby
Sooner balmy weather is coming by
The hot temper will bicker with cool air
With soothing breeze here comes September
Ency Bearis
(c) copyright 2012
poem by Ency Bearis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Collected Verses On Summer
1 Summer is hot all around
Trilling on a grass tip
A bit of breeze snared
2 So so is even tasty food
Sour turns even fresh milk
To summer-scorch all abound
3 Ring of fire east to west
On bon voyage set ablaze
Ice-cream, soda all cool blest
4 Summer heat is prickling heat
Rashing salving prickles all
Sunscreen on scene clean and neat
5 Tonsured, shortened..summer style
Summer-cut to head's convenience
Ruling head's power cut..ruling style
poem by Indira Renganathan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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August
A day of torpor in the sullen heat
Of Summer's passion: In the sluggish stream
The panting cattle lave their lazy feet,
With drowsy eyes, and dream.
Long since the winds have died, and in the sky
There lives no cloud to hint of Nature's grief;
The sun glares ever like an evil eye,
And withers flower and leaf.
Upon the gleaming harvest-field remote
The thresher lies deserted, like some old
Dismantled galleon that hangs afloat
Upon a sea of gold.
The yearning cry of some bewildered bird
Above an empty nest, and truant boys
Along the river's shady margin heard--
A harmony of noise--
A melody of wrangling voices blent
With liquid laughter, and with rippling calls
Of piping lips and thrilling echoes sent
To mimic waterfalls.
And through the hazy veil the atmosphere
Has draped about the gleaming face of Day,
The sifted glances of the sun appear
In splinterings of spray.
The dusty highway, like a cloud of dawn,
Trails o'er the hillside, and the passer-by,
A tired ghost in misty shroud, toils on
His journey to the sky.
And down across the valley's drooping sweep,
Withdrawn to farthest limit of the glade,
The forest stands in silence, drinking deep
Its purple wine of shade.
The gossamer floats up on phantom wing;
The sailor-vision voyages the skies
And carries into chaos everything
That freights the weary eyes:
Till, throbbing on and on, the pulse of heat
Increases--reaches--passes fever's height,
And Day sinks into slumber, cool and sweet,
Within the arms of Night.
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Dreamed Of Forest Alleys fair
I.
I DREAMED of forest alleys fair
And fields of gray-flowered grass,
Where by the yellow summer moon
My Jenny seemed to pass.
I dreamed the yellow summer moon,
Behind a cedar wood,
Lay white on fields of rippling grass
Where I and Jenny stood.
I dreamed - but fallen through my dream,
In a rainy land I lie
Where wan wet morning crowns the hills
Of grim reality.
II.
I am as one that keeps awake
All night in the month of June,
That lies awake in bed to watch
The trees and great white moon.
For memories of love are more
Than the white moon there above,
And dearer than quiet moonshine
Are the thoughts of her I love.
III.
Last night I lingered long without
My last of loves to see.
Alas! the moon-white window-panes
Stared blindly back on me.
To-day I hold her very hand,
Her very waist embrace -
Like clouds across a pool, I read
Her thoughts upon her face.
And yet, as now, through her clear eyes
I seek the inner shrine -
I stoop to read her virgin heart
In doubt if it be mine -
O looking long and fondly thus,
What vision should I see?
No vision, but my own white face
That grins and mimics me.
IV.
Once more upon the same old seat
In the same sunshiny weather,
The elm-trees' shadows at their feet
And foliage move together.
The shadows shift upon the grass,
The dial point creeps on;
The clear sun shines, the loiterers pass,
As then they passed and shone.
But now deep sleep is on my heart,
Deep sleep and perfect rest.
Hope's flutterings now disturb no more
The quiet of my breast.
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The girl of my dreams
I met the girl of my dreams
I held her, I love her, but that wasn’t a dream
She made me feel so special inside
Now I feel like a failure inside
The girl of my dreams was so pretty and pure
The girl of my dreams was so perfect
The girl in my dreams is everything I want
The girl in my dreams is everything that is right
The girl in my dreams talked with me
The girl in my dreams is named Dee
The girl in my dreams showed me who I am
The girl in my dreams showed me what love is
The girl in my dreams showed me how to love
The girl in my dreams I love so much
The girl of my dreams I love you so
The girl of my dreams I hate that you let go
The girl of my dreams you are so rare
The girl of my dreams you for me
The girl of my dreams without life doesn’t seem right
The girl of my dreams without you why put up the fight
The girl of my dreams without you I am not whole
The girl of my dreams without you I feel like I am in a hole.
The girl of my dreams, you are for me
The girl of my dreams is Dee.
poem by Jonathan Pendley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Helpful Eyes
You are my russian girl,
don't need blond hair accent,
you are my italian girl
full of round tomato kisses,
you are my brasilian girl,
I need moving samba breast,
you are my friendly girl
faithful as a mystic bird.
You are my sweedish girl,
can talk about everything,
you are my chinese girl
wandering with playful legs,
you are my french looking girl,
never notice any misery,
you are my friendly girl
universal as your helpful eyes.
poem by John Rolland
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Real Property
Tell me about that harvest field.
Oh! Fifty acres of living bread.
The colour has painted itself in my heart;
The form is patterned in my head.
So now I take it everywhere,
See it whenever I look round;
Hear it growing through every sound,
Know exactly the sound it makes —
Remembering, as one must all day,
Under the pavement the live earth aches.
Trees are at the farther end,
Limes all full of the mumbling bee:
So there must be a harvest field
Whenever one thinks of a linden tree.
A hedge is about it, very tall,
Hazy and cool, and breathing sweet.
Round paradise is such a wall,
And all the day, in such a way,
In paradise the wild birds call.
You only need to close your eyes
And go within your secret mind,
And you'll be into paradise:
I've learnt quite easily to find
Some linden trees and drowsy bees,
A tall sweet hedge with the corn behind.
I will not have that harvest mown:
I'll keep the corn and leave the bread.
I've bought that field; it's now my own:
I've fifty acres in my head.
I take it as a dream to bed.
I carry it about all day....
Sometimes when I have found a friend
I give a blade of corn away.
poem by Harold Monro
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stole your life
He destroyed your confidence, girl,
He’s the cause of your pain, girl
You got to be stronger than that, girl
Innocent girl you once were.
He stole your innocence, girl,
He took your love, girl
He buried it with others, girl,
Loving girl you once were.
He tore apart your faith, girl.
He turned everyone against you, girl.
He made your parents not trust you, girl.
Worthy girl you once were.
He took your life, girl.
Gave it a new name, girl,
He drew your blood, girl,
Living girl you once were.
poem by Maura Hunt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Girlzilla
Baby Girl, Glamour Girl, Strawberry Girl struts
Candy Girl, Sexy Girl, Bossy Girl fuss
Gansta Girl, Dream Girl, Independent Girl shops
Virtuous Girl, Glitter Girl, Hot Girl pops
Cover Girl, Naughty Girl, Jazzy Girl sings
Phat Girl, Ghetto Girl, Bling Girl blings
Sassy Girl, Cool Girl, Girly Girl rocks
Mama's Girl, Daddy's Girl, Wild Girl stocks
Strong Girl, Sister Girl, Church Girl preach
Flower Girl, Black Girl, American Girl reach
Thick Girl, School Girl, Smart Girl moves
Bad Girl, Spoiled Girl, Bitchy Girl grooves
God's Girl, Quiet Girl, Sweet Girl blessed
Beautiful Girl, Young Girl, Talented Girl impressed
Prom Girl, City Girl, Business Girl works
Play Girl, Outgoing Girl, Dance Girl tworks
Lavish Girl, Promiscuous Girl, Anonymous Girl rolls
Country Girl, Island Girl, Bobby V's Girl controls
poem by Top Notch Glamorous Thick Chick
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Who's the Girl?
Who's the girl in the mirror?
Who's the girl in the frame?
Who's the girl with the smile that has faded off her face?
Who's the girl with the tears slowly rolling off her cheeks?
Who's the girl that cared about you?
Who's the girl that gave up everything?
Who's the girl that can't smile?
Who's the girl that's in denial?
Who's the girl that hit the ground, thinking that you'd catch her now?
Who's the girl that was betrayed?
Who's the girl that's in pain?
Who's the girl in the shadows?
Who's the girl in the shade?
Who's the girl whose light can't shine?
Who's the girl that's been left behind?
Who's the girl in that world that's been left? , There's no doubt.... she's not there.
Who's the girl that was once deep inside your heart?
Who's the girl that has cried and slowly died inside her mind?
Who's the girl you've forgotten?
Who's the girl you have hurt?
Who's the girl that has left?
Who's the girl?
Who is she?
You've forgotten her....
poem by Evelyn Castillo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A girl...
A girl.
I met this girl with a beautiful personality, but had a lot to hide.
A girl with compassion.
A girl with sorrow hidden deep into her heart, that only a key can open it.
A girl that hasn't found her full potential, but yet knows where she wants to be and what to do with her heart.
A girl who wants to explore the world.
A girl who loves and hates.
A girl who is awake, yet she sleeps.
She's just an ordinary girl who does ordinary things.
A girl who gets mistreated because she's in a residential facility.
A girl who has no one to love her and care for her.
A girl who has to deal with teasing and bullying everyday of her life,
as long as she can remember.
She's just a girl...
And that girl is me!
poem by Shannon Monroe
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Feeling Like Making Sunshine For Myself
I lie down onto the tall grass field.
Sun and the blue sky
grass tops swing against them.
A bird flies across chirping.
A snake crawls across my body.
I have my legs up to the sky to avoid the sunshine.
I split them narrowing my eyes.
No one makes no shadows.
Everything has to be the same as every one's.
There are such many answers that I can't solve and understand right now.
By sensing all those things, I've reached this feeling in the sunshine.
And I am probably reaching the answers.
Mysterious Girl
There is a girl
With long black hair
With her big grey eyes
People can’t help but stare
Her beauty leaves a trace
Every time she walks by
She’s filled with magnificence
Such splendor you cannot deny
With her tall and fit body
She can blow fire off
As she walks past a crowd
Others can’t help but scoff
Her loveliness is admired by everyone
But her charm is envious by most women
By the way she dresses and walks
Her features are adored and gleamin’
Everything about her is stunning
She’s every girl and woman’s wanna be
Yet people did not know
That that girl with long black hair
And big grey eyes
Is me...
poem by Marria Attar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Naming of Things.
That's a Small Skipper
Jane said
And that's a Clouded yellow
as two butterflies
flittered overhead
as you both lay
in the tall grass
on the side
of the Downs
and you followed
her finger
as it indicated
the butterflies' flight
and then they were gone
and she gazed at you
and said
What?
How do you know
the names of things?
I'm a country girl
not a townie like you
she replied
her lips moulding
the words like a potter
moulds clay
and you caught a whiff
of her perfume
carried on the calm breeze
over your heads
and you looked
at her there
in the grass
her head turned back
to the sky
her eyes reflecting
the summer blue
and her left leg
bent upwards
so that her knee
stood naked
beneath the sun
and her right hand
lay next to yours
the white blouse
open at the neck
and she said
I often used to lay here
alone listening
to the overhead birds
and the winds' moan
watching tractors
in the fields below
and mother wondering
where I was
And now?
you asked
Does she wonder
where you are now?
she turned her head
and gazed at you
No not now
she knows I'm with you
and that I'm showing you
the store of nature
and the panoramic view
And she trusts you?
you asked
sensing her hand
touch yours
the flesh warm
and soft
She trusts you
Jane said
and another butterfly
fluttered by
like a ballerina overhead.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Heat
From plains that reel to southward, dim,
The road runs by me white and bare;
Up the steep hill it seems to swim
Beyond, and melt into the glare.
Upward half-way, or it may be
Nearer the summit, slowly steals
A hay-cart, moving dustily
With idly clacking wheels.
By his cart's side the wagoner
Is slouching slowly at his ease,
Half-hidden in the windless blur
Of white dust puffiing to his knees.
This wagon on the height above,
From sky to sky on either hand,
Is the sole thing that seems to move
In all the heat-held land.
Beyond me in the fields the sun
Soaks in the grass and hath his will;
I count the marguerites one by one;
Even the buttercups are still.
On the brook yonder not a breath
Disturbs the spider or the midge.
The water-bugs draw close beneath
The cool gloom of the bridge.
Where the far elm-tree shadows flood
Dark patches in the burning grass,
The cows, each with her peaceful cud,
Lie waiting for the heat to pass.
From somewhere on the slope near by
Into the pale depth of the noon
A wandering thrush slides leisurely
His thin revolving tune.
In intervals of dreams I hear
The cricket from the droughty ground;
The grasshoppers spin into mine ear
A small innumerable sound.
I lift mine eyes sometimes to gaze:
The burning sky-line blinds my sight:
The woods far off are blue with haze:
The hills are drenched in light.
And yet to me not this or that
Is always sharp or always sweet;
In the sloped shadow of my hat
I lean at rest, and drain the heat;
Nay more, I think some blessèd power
Hath brought me wandering idly here:
In the full furnace of this hour
My thoughts grow keen and clear.
poem by Archibald Lampman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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