Related quotes: At ten I caught fireflies...

Fireflies and Summer Nights

At ten I caught fireflies
in the Chicago night
cupping them in my hands
giving them to you
where we watched them
twinkle away
above us
indistinguishable from the stars.

The next day you took me
to see the butterflies
land
to drink the Flower's Ambrosia-
their wings gently swaying.

My hamster got to know you on sight
and squealed when you snuck into my room;
you would feed him sunflower seeds;
he took them staring
lovingly at you.

That summer
on your grandparents farm
you showed me how to position a horseshoe
for each nail driven;
where each day we rode the fences
counting the cows
to be sure
no one was missing.

We were a little family then
boy and girl
mare and stallion
clopping along
by the little brook
coming back
each day
sitting supper.

One day your
grandfather whispered to me
'Did you kiss her yet? '
I stammered and didn't answer
and he said
'Well what are you waiting for?
I know my granddaughter
just like her grandmother
she'd like a little kiss.'

Down state Illinois had fireflies too
and I punched holes in the top of a peanut butter jar
with 25 fireflies inside
who illuminated that first kiss-
yours and mine;
when the jar lid came open
the fireflies flew
some landing in your hair
twinkling and blinking.

I took them out one by one
setting them free
my face close to your face
and I kissed you again
pressing close
an
Eternal Memory

Now
and
Then.

poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Related quotes

Soft Kissing Eureka Moment Days

been writing my fireflies
fireflies always buzz my mind
illuminating my solo nights

soft kissing eureka moment days
shall I share my dear enchantment fireflies
as fireflies dance through my mind

poem by Terence George Craddock
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Kissing Carol Ann

Back in 1957
kissing Carol Ann
behind the barn
in the middle of
a windswept field
of Goldenrod
with a sudden deer
watching was
something special,
let me tell you.
Back then, bobby sox
and big barrettes
and ponytails
were everywhere.

Like many farmers,
Carol Ann's father
had a console radio
in the living room,
and every Saturday night
the family would gather 'round
with bowls of ice cream
and listen to the Grand Ole Opry.
It was beamed 'all the way'
from Nashville I was told
more than once since
I was from Chicago
and sometimes wore a tie
so how could I know.

On my first visit,
I asked Carol Ann
if the Grand Ole Opry was
the Mormon Tabernacle Choir
of country music and she said
not to say that to her father.
She suggested I just tap
my foot to the music
and let him watch me.
Otherwise I'd best be
quiet and say 'Yup, '
'Nope' or 'Maybe'
if asked any questions
which she didn't think
would happen.
No need to say
much more, she said,
and after a few visits,
I understood why.

Over time, I learned
to tap my foot pretty good
to the music because
when I'd come to visit,
her father would insist
I have a bowl of ice cream
with the family.
I liked the ice cream
but not so much
the Grand Ole Opry.
I'd been weaned
on Sinatra in the city.
Big difference,
let me tell you.

But back in 1957
kissing Carol Ann
behind the barn
was something special
since we couldn't do
much more until
I found employment.
Only then, her father said,
could we get married.
I found no jobs
in town, however,
for a bespectacled man
with degrees in English.

Still, I always found
the weekend drives
from Chicago worth
the gas my Rambler drank
because kissing Carol Ann
brought a bit of heaven
down behind that barn,
especially on summer nights
when fireflies were
the only stars we saw
when our eyes
popped open.
It was like
the Fourth of July
with tiny sparklers
twinkling everywhere.

Now,55 years later,
Carol Ann sometimes mentions
fireflies at dusk as we
dance behind the cows
to coax them into the barn
for the night.
I'm still not too good
with cows despite
my John Deere cap,
plaid shirt and overalls
which proves, she says,
that all that kissing
behind the barn in 1957
took the boy out of the city
but not the city out of the boy.

'Hee Haw' is all I ever
say in response because
I know why I'm there.
It's to keep tapping
the cows on the rump
till we get them
back in the barn
so we can go back
in the house
and start with
a kiss and later on
come back downstairs
for two big bowls
of ice cream.

poem by Donal Mahoney
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Natures Firefly

Fireflies in the rose garden
Evenings cover a blanket of black
Locked securely over the galaxy
To the moon and all the way back;

Mirrored in the storms images
Dancing in droplets before my eyes
Unfolding in a glimmer-shimmer...
Are the brillant fireflies;

Hovering over a moistened leaf...
Lightening flashes upon shadowed lanes
Near to the lakes showered landing...
Come fireflies in the rain;

By: Theodora Onken

December 14,2011

poem by Theodora Onken
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Spiders And Fireflies

It is July,
Where have all the fireflies gone?
The fireflies from my childhood,
The ones that used to amuse me,
The ones I used to chase,
and capture,
and make my own.
I guess they symbolize the
Innocence from my Childhood,
and I guess,
They have ran off with the
Innocence from my Childhood.
Now I'm overwhelmed with spiders.
Everywhere I turn,
There's another spider at my back.
Where did they come from?
Where did the fields go,
that I once captured fireflies in?

poem by Carey Noelle
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What The Fireflies Must Mean

according to Urias
the fireflies
are the ideas that we let
go on a dark night
and they fly
and we do not
catch them

they must go
searching
for other fireflies
their own kind
of flashes
and blinkings

we are here
watching them
in amazement

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Their Tale a Tale of Loss & Tangled Threads

Ah! Such passion!

The lover's tryst.
The lover's kiss.

...under a silver moon.

Was there ever such a night as this
fireflies twinkle through a hazy June mist.

The clocks tick on and on
the lover's tale unforld under a June moon.

Human hearts ache...a tear breaks
form an eye not willing to cry
but unable...to stop itself.

Your tear rolls down my cheek
as I kiss your crying face.

The puppets end their lives
...put back in their case.

Their tale a tale of loss and tangled threads
broken strings...love lies dead

as we huddle together
on a hot Venitian night

clouds of centuries
blowing across the bright new moon

like the strands of your hair
blown across your face

the story leaves us
...standing here.

poem by Dónall Dempsey
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Kiss kiss and kiss

Kiss kiss kiss me again*
Afterwards kiss kiss kiss my thoughts*
Then kiss kiss kiss my spirit*

Still kiss kiss kiss my shadow*
Don't forget to kiss kiss kiss my hair*
Repeated again kiss kiss kiss my face*
I'wanted to be kiss kiss kiss by you my brow*

Don't forget to kiss kiss kiss my cheek*
Afterwards kiss kiss kiss ears and my nose*
I'will like if being kiss kiss kiss by you my heart*

More kiss kiss kiss my lips*
Don't forget kiss kiss kiss with the love*
Repeated still kiss kiss kiss in the hope that we *
I'wanted to be kiss kiss kiss by you before i'slept*

I'hoped was kiss kiss kiss by you when i'opened the eyes and got up from my dream*

I'will like if being kiss kiss kiss by you my wish*
Don't forget kiss kiss kiss with your loyalty*

Kiss kiss kiss was our prayer together in the love*
G(-_-) (-_-) D

poem by Dwi utami
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Gnarled

It was the eternal summer of her soul
which mesmorized me-
a shiny shimmering-
which glowed in the day time
and at night emitting its golden light
which played among the fireflies
on the veranda where we sat
sipping ice tea
in the Carolina smoldering,
smoky
evening;
where magic lived and crickets chirped
and her staring me full in the face
from which an overpowering innocence radiates
across the short space
between that look
and my paralyzed fearful state
while I was transfixed by her sky blue eyes
revealing to me it seemed the very face of God
looking out,
looking through me
unflinchingly
unapologetically,
unselfconsciously
unjudgementally;
her soul-being peering into my
my guarded hidings,
feaful of stepping
into
the daytime-at-night gaze
while feeling my hand rise to my face
unable to stand the nakedness in her look
of which she herself was unaware
a look which withered me
as she took that hand
and placed upon it a gentle kiss
which seared into my cringing soul
propelled by gratefulness
for that little bit of innocence
from her hand kiss
my gnarled inner self
frozen cold over time
and out of touch
with Innocent Innocence
blushed.
There was only the gentle sigh
to part the night
and my own weeping regrets

poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Fireflies Of Love

Fireflies of Love.
Summer by the river of temptation,
vinyl records and turntable gramophone
songs about love and longings.
Naive lyric, but for our young hearts it
had a deep meaning.
Passion like fireflies filled the air, the aroma
of grass and the scent of green leaves,
enchantment and adoration.
Nothing is like first love, alas it never lasts
and like fireflies, disappear at first light.
Liver spotted hands turn the pages of memories,
shiny leaves of youth clear as the river and
undimmed by middle-aged cynicism.

poem by Oskar Hansen
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60

night murmurs

1. You cannot lock the door
Now, night shall open it
For fireflies to come in
They slept in hiding

Like you, fireflies fly away
Pallid cowards from rain
Lest their lights die in the mist

You wait by the door

As true stars come again
Lighting night skies
My Fireflies shall reveal
Inferior flickers under
The now, brimming
Skies bursting
II.
How many full moons passed
Past your sad window?
Your fingers cannot tell
They’re used to gripping
Rusty doorknobs
A great deal to ancestry
Our human hands corroded
We cannot reach nor outrun
Rust becomes us

III.
If we listen to dawn dreams
We shall hear prophets scream
Nothing
To a mutter

One speaks of the underworld so endless
Unmoving as the sky stretches a distance of lies
No farther
Or it will break

There are no skies no caves
No edges no space
Nothing
To whisper

IV.
We are shooting stars in space
Shot into nothing
Yet we keep on shooting

For the moment
We close down
We set strong feet on land
Like steel gates stilled

We look into our eyes
Tears are dwindling
Thus far, we cannot cease fearing
For nothing

V.
There is God
As the world keeps ears
For each earthworm in the void

He shall hear us
Shouting the questions
Dinning,
Rocking the ruckus of cumulus
In this outcry

He shall know us
By eyes and mouth
By hand by footprints
And the grasses covering all

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ramblings

You cannot lock the door
Now, night shall open it
For fireflies to come in
They slept in hiding

Like you, fireflies fly away
Pallid cowards from rain
Lest their lights die in the mist

You wait by the door

As true stars come again
Lighting night skies
My Fireflies shall reveal
Inferior flickers under
The now, brimming
Skies bursting

II.
How many full moons passed
Past your sad window?
Your fingers cannot tell
They’re used to gripping
Rusty doorknobs
A great deal to ancestry
Our human hands corroded
We cannot reach nor outrun
Rust becomes us