Thru The Eyes Of A Child
When I was a child I climbed the tallest tree that I could find
To see all the beauties that GOD left behind.
I've never been to any snow capped mountain
Or ever climbed the highest peak
But he shows me words and lays them at my feet.
I see the baseball field where my friends and I would play
And I see the patch of grass where my head would lay.
I see myself laying there as the world passes by
Counting every cloud that's high up in the sky.
I feel the summer breeze as it passes through my hair
Ever so gentle- much more than I could bare.
I climbed up higher at least sixty feet above the ground
Just so I could hear all those familiar sounds.
The birds singing tunes to delight the ears
Wiping away all those childish fears.
I gazed across the park taking in all the sights
Watching younger children in the sprinklers
Jumping with delight.
I felt myself getting light headed, but not because of the height
But because of the words which I knew I could not fight.
So I climbed down from the tree, and said a little prayer
For the words he had given me
I knew that I must share.
This was my first inkling for what was in store for me
That was when I knew- I had to write poetry.
poem by Louis Rams
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Everyday Way
I delight in the everyday Way,
Among the mist and fog, the plain;
Every rock and cave is joined,
Feeling is believing, loathing me.
The plain speech of the Way
Excites me as I meander through the forest
Of the mountains in the angelic spirit,
Finding rocks and boulders rising.
Everyone who glimpses the mountain
Sees a man outside and indoors,
It climbed you as well in the forest,
You cannot fathom these words.
I delight in the ways of the Mountain,
How it climbed you so well and wet;
The water is like a river of beauty
From the excitement housed in the air.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Mountain Of Hope
He had climbed the highest mountain this
World had ever known.
He had climbed the highest mountain
On maps it can’t be shown.
It was a mountain of tears, suffering and pain
And no ones life would ever be the same.
Then a second mountain was built
And it was higher than the first.
This mountain was built with the
strongest material known to man.
HOPE! In our hearts and our minds it will stand.
Each time hope is fed, there lies another bed.
And as each bed is filled
The mountain gets higher still.
But it was he who climbed the mountain
Of tears, suffering and pain.
And because of it he took away the shame.
And this mountain came to be.
because CHRIST Made a sacrifice
for you and for me.
And if we was able to put HOPE
Into a color scheme
It would be the most beautiful
Rainbow that you’ve ever seen.
So every time you see a rainbow
Without a beginning and without a end
It’s because hope is building up
And that’s a guarantee my friend.
poem by Louis Rams
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Men in Green
Oh, there were fifteen men in green,
Each with a tommy-gun,
Who leapt into my plane at dawn;
We rose to meet the sun.
We set our course towards the east
And climbed into the day
Till the ribbed jungle underneath
Like a giant fossil lay.
We climbed towards the distant range,
Where two white paws of cloud
Clutched at the shoulders of the pass;
The green men laughed aloud.
They did not fear the ape-like cloud
That climbed the mountain crest
And hung from ropes invisible
With lightning in its breast.
They did not fear the summer's sun
In whose hot centre lie
A hundred hissing cannon shells
For the unwatchful eye.
And when on Dobadura's field
We landed, each man raised
His thumb towards the open sky;
But to their right I gazed.
For fifteen men in jungle green
Rose from the kunai grass
And came towards the plane. My men
In silence watched them pass;
It seemed they looked upon themselves
In Times's prophetic glass.
Oh, there were some leaned on a stick
And some on stretchers lay,
But few walked on their own two feet
In the early green of day.
(They did not heed the ape-like cloud
That climbed the mountain crest;
They did not fear the summer sun
With bullets for their breast.)
Their eyes were bright, their looks were dull;
Their skin had turned to clay.
Nature had meet them in the night
And stalked them in the day.
And I think still of men in green
On the Soputa track,
With fifteen spitting tommy-guns
To keep the jungle back.
poem by David Campbell
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Not Just Climbing For Me
We all have to climb the mountain of life
The road can get tough and I knew that though
For reasons unknown to everyone around me
I climbed for me not telling anyone else why
But then I told one man my dreams and from there on out he was always there Cheering me on
Even when the road got tuff and my hands were bleeding
He was there by my side telling me it was going to be alright
Then he died and it seemed all was lost
But then I climbed harder
And it hit me
That I was not just climbing for me but climbing for him and all that he stood for remembering what he told
Me to do when road got cold and unforgiving
And still to this day I climb for us, me and him
And everything we stand for remembering what he climbed for
He climbed for me and God and all of his family
And that's what he told me
And that's why I climb for us remembering him and all the love
He showed me
poem by Rachel Dowd
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The Countryman Who Sought His Calf
A COUNTRYMAN, one day, his calf had lost,
And, seeking it, a neighbouring forest crossed;
The tallest tree that in the district grew,
He climbed to get a more extensive view.
Just then a lady with her lover came;
The place was pleasing, both to spark and dame;
Their mutual wishes, looks and eyes expressed,
And on the grass the lady was caressed.
At sights of charms, enchanting to the eyes,
The gay gallant exclaimed, with fond surprise:--
Ye gods, what striking beauties now I see!
No objects named; but spoke with anxious glee.
The clod, who, on the tree had mounted high,
And heard at ease the conversation nigh,
Now cried:--Good man! who see with such delight;
Pray tell me if my calf be in your sight?
poem by La Fontaine
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Tonight I Climbed The Wall
(alan jackson)
Our room was filled with silence
I guess wed said it all
I dont when Id seen our bedroom
So long I cant recall
Wed built this thing between us
Im not sure whats the cause
So I sallowed all my pride
And tonight I climbed the wall
Tonight I climbed the wall
And took her by the hand
Wed come too far to fall
Couldnt stand to see it end
So tonight I climbed the wall
Makin love is so much sweeter
When you love the one you hold
After all these years of holdin her
Youd think by now Id know
Now as we lie here together
All our troubles seem so small
Just these satin sheets between us
Cause tonight I climbed the wall
Tonight I climbed the wall
And took her by the hand
Wed come too far to fall
Couldnt stand to see it end
So tonight I climbed the wall
Tonight I climbed the wall
Tonight I climbed the wall
song performed by by Alan Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Of Caterpillars and Childhood
We were childhood playmates
Way back in the late fifties
She was sort of a retardate,
We children were not aware of this.
One day we climbed a guava tree
And Celia (that's her name)
Tried to climb the tree with me
How we enjoyed that racing game!
On a stronger branch I sat
My brother climbed the other
As Celia climbed I noticed that
Green caterpillars were all over!
I jumped off that tree so fast
And my brother followed suit
Celia tried to get off, alas!
A caterpillar stuck to her foot.
She held to a branch in fear
Her hand crushed the green thing there
With a scream she let go, oh dear!
She fell on her back with a holler!
Her grandma came rushing over
As we laughed at the silly crying
But out came our angry Mother
And we were in for a big scolding.
Looking back I have my regret
I have not been able to say 'Sorry'
My friend was one I will never forget
So for her, I write this little story.
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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I Remember Once When I Was A Little Child
i remember
when i was a little child
i once climbed a tree
to take a look of those
down below me.
i simply sit there
and feast my eyes
on the tall mountain
far away from me.
i see a winding river
flowing to the sea.
i see memories.
i am a little child.
i am the father of
that sadness that
i left behind a rock.
i am the image of
that little boy
behind your face.
i am not noise.
i am the silence
of a very faraway
memory on that
cone mountain over
there with a snow
cap.I am my
small world like
a bird perched on
a twig. A small patch
of green grass. A handful
of clouds drifting on
my shoulder. I am
a silent memory.
I am listening inside
my little corner.
This heart still
of a little boy.
Always wondering.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Season In The Sun
Goodbye to you my trusted friend
We ve known each other since we
Were nine or ten
Together we ve climbed hills and trees
Learned of love and abc s
Skinned our hearts and
Skinned our knees
Goodbye my friend it s hard to die
When all the birds are singing
In the sky
Now that spring is in the air
Pretty girls are everywhere
Think of me and I ll be there
We had joy we had fun we had
Seasons in the sun
But the hills that we climbed were
Just seasons out of time
Goodbye papa please pray for me
I was the black sheep of the family
You tried to teach me right from wrong
Too much wine and too much song
Wonder how I got along
Goodbye papa it s hard to die
When all the birds are singing in the sky
Now that the spring is in the air
Little children everywhere
When you see them I ll be there
We had joy we had fun we had
Seasons in the sun
But the wine and the songs like the
Seasons have all gone
We had joy we had fun we had
Seasons in the sun
But the wine and the song like
The seasons have all gone
Goodbye michelle my little one
You gave me love and helped
Me find the sun
And every time that I was down
You would always come around
And get my feet back on
The ground
Goodbye michelle it s hard to die
When all the birds are singing in
The sky
Now that the spring is in the air
With the flowers everywhere
I wish that we could both be there
We had joy we had fun we had
Seasons in the sun
But the hills that we climbed were
Just seasons out of time
We had joy we had fun we had
Seasons in the sun
But the wine and the song like the
Seasons have all gone
We had joy we had fun we had
Seasons in the sun
But the wine and the song like the
Seasons have all gone
We had joy we had fun we had
Seasons in the sun
But the wine and the song like the
Seasons have all gone
song performed by by Westlife
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tree Climbing
When I was 6 years of age,
I would go tree climbing all through the day.
My older brother would say to his friends,
“My sister Suzy can climb highest, you want to bet? ”
I would then look up at the tallest tree,
I knew I could make it without falling on my knee.
Yes, I would go straight to the top,
the top of the highest tree and then I’ld stop,
I would look down to see the world,
I was the happiest little girl.
All the trees where close together,
I felt like a bird with a lot of feathers.
I had made it to where the birds do roam,
I was at the top of the tower at my throne.
This reminds me of “Rising of the Planet of the Apes,
When Cornelius was happy to escape.
Climbing the tallest tree,
watching him brought back memories.
Memories of my tree climbing days,
I will always remember it in a special kind of way.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on August 28,2011
www.purplepoems.com www.christinasunrise.com
poem by Christina Sunrise
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A Poet To Be
A poet I claim not to be,
For words are never there.
In all the years I've tried to write,
I have no words to share.
I sit and think but nothing comes,
No inspiration here.
I want to write of anything,
But still no words I fear.
I read the works of other poets,
I wish I were like them.
How do they write such beautiful lines,
A poet, I'm not him.
I try to write from the heart,
From deep within my soul.
I try to write of the love I have,
But cannot reach my goal.
But why I ask, why can't I write,
Of love so pure and true.
Why can't I write about her eyes,
A mix of green and blue.
I want to write about her smile,
It brightens up my day.
I try to think of anything,
But words I cannot say.
I wish I knew how to write,
A poem with such bliss.
I wish I knew how to describe,
Her soft but tender kiss.
I cannot even begin to write,
How she holds me tight.
How her arms around me,
Makes everything just right.
A poet does not have to think,
The words flow right out.
When I sit and try to write,
I want to scream and shout.
I mean come on, how hard can it be,
To write about her hair.
Such long beautiful natural blonde,
That flows in the air.
I try to write about her laugh,
The words will not fly.
Time passes and finally,
I say it's soft and high.
It's been an hour and a half,
I'm here on verse twelve.
I had to go to Rhymezone,
To find out the rhyme is shelve.
A poet does not do that,
Go online to find a rhyme.
A poet has it in his head,
And can write at any time.
But a poet I am not,
For I cannot write of love.
How the girl I am with,
Is an angel from up above.
How I love her with all my heart,
And want to spend my life with her.
How her love for me is more,
Than I can ever be for sure.
As I draw near the end,
My mind is not so numb.
I realize I've just written of love,
A poet I have become.
poem by Adam McKim
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When I was a Bird
I climbed up the karaka tree
Into a nest all made of leaves
But soft as feathers.
I made up a song that went on singing all by itself
And hadn't any words, but got sad at the end.
There were daisies in the grass under the tree.
I said just to try them:
"I'll bite off your heads and give them to my little
children to eat."
But they didn't believe I was a bird;
They stayed quite open.
The sky was like a blue nest with white feathers
And the sun was the mother bird keeping it warm.
That's what my song said: though it hadn't any words.
Little Brother came up the patch, wheeling his barrow.
I made my dress into wings and kept very quiet.
Then when he was quite near I said: "Sweet, sweet!"
For a moment he looked quite startled;
Then he said: "Pooh, you're not a bird; I can see
your legs."
But the daisies didn't really matter,
And Little Brother didn't really matter;
I felt just like a bird.
poem by Katherine Mansfield
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Icarus
Early in the morning sunlight
Soaring on the wings of dawn
Here I'll live and die with my wings in the sky
And I won't come down no more
Higher than a bird I'm flying
Crimson skies of ice and fire
Borne on wings of steel I have so much to feel
And I won't come down no more
Sail on, sail on, I will rise each day to meet the dawn
So high, so high
I've climbed the mountains of the sky
Without my wings you know I'd surely die
I found my freedom flyin' high
I've climbed the mountains of the sky
Floating on a cloud of amber
Searching for the rainbow's end
Earth so far below me,
I'm here alone, free
I can't come down no more
song performed by by Kansas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Icarus - Borne On Wings Of Steel
Early in the morning sunlight
Soaring on the wings of dawn
Here I'll live and die with my wings in the sky
And I won't come down no more
Higher than a bird I'm flying
Crimson skies of ice and fire
Borne on wings of steel I have so much to feel
And I won't come down no more
Sail on, sail on, I will rise each day to meet the dawn
So high, so high
I've climbed the mountains of the sky
Without my wings you know I'd surely die
I found my freedom flyin' high
I've climbed the mountains of the sky
Floating on a cloud of amber
Searching for the rainbow's end
Earth so far below me,
I'm here alone, free
I can't come down no more
song performed by by Kansas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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More Fool You
I held the rope so tightly
As she climbed
Down from her room
We said wed make our getaway
Underneath the moon
I always will remember
The night that we left home
And the words of warning
Ringing in my ears
More fool you, more fool me ...
New job, new friends and a family
In a house on the sunny side
We played on the wheel of fortune
But it was me that took the ride
It didnt work between us
I had to give it all away
And in the end I knew it had to be
If Ive told you once
Then Ive told you twice
But Ill tell you once again
Now shes taken away
Most everything
And Ive lost my only friend
song performed by by Uriah Heep
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bird Nesting
O wonderful! In sport we climbed the tree,
Eager and laughing, as in all our play,
To see the eggs where, in the nest, they lay,
But silent fell before the mystery.
For, one brief moment there, we understood
By sudden sympathy too fine for words
That we were sisters to the brooding birds
And part, with them, in God’s great motherhood.
poem by Ellis Parker Butler
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Shes A Superstar
Here she comes
Seven suns
A burning flame
She got my love
Got my head
But its all the same
She climbed so high
I dont know why
High
On her own
And I know
Shes in the air
And I dont want it to go
I can feel her love
But I dont want it to go
She got my woe
Got my hand
Took the dreams
Right outta my head
She bought the world
I paid the bills
I took those pills
It was wind in her sails
She climbed so high
I dont know why
High,
On her own
And I know
Shes in the air
And I dont want it to go
I can feel her love
But I dont want it to go
song performed by by Verve
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We Do Not Want To Hear You Say
We do not want to hear you say how very great you are
Or if up the high hill to success you've climbed and climbed so far
To leave others talk of your success seems a better idea
Self praise is no praise so they say and that appeals to me.
We do not want to hear you say that you are God's gift to woman kind
But young women you fancy say that better than you are not hard to find
That women do not like egostical young men you seem to fail to see
And the few who say they like you do not like you only your money.
We do not want to hear you tell us of your successful life
And that the woman that you marry will be a wealthy fellow's wife
And that money speaks all languages may happen to be true
Few men in their early thirties would be as immature as you.
We do not want to hear you boast about your great success
It would seem that your money cannot buy you happiness
On the hill of financial success you may have climbed up far
But you should leave others tell the World of how great a man you are.
poem by Francis Duggan
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My Sycamore Tree
A rainbow appeared across the sky
Like a promise
A covenant
Shinning on high
I waited and watched Making sure I could see
Climbing the branches of my sycamore tree
A star shone bright
Symbolizing
Signifying
The importance that night
Men followed it
As I watched happily
Sitting atop my sycamore tree
A white dove descended from the clouds
With a voice
And a light
Amazing the crowds
Water and word
I watched and thought of what it could be
From the tallest branch of my sycamore tree
From a tree like mine a cross was formed
Spitting
Beating
Some laughed while others mourned
I knew there was something I could do
But I was afraid of what would happen to me
So I stayed put, hanging on tight to my sycamore tree
Three days later a butterfly appeared
Alive
And vibrant
Then to my tree it finally neared
It seemed as though it was speaking to me
Speaking of life eternally
So I followed the butterfly as far as I could see
Then I quickly climbed down the branches
Joyully leaving my sycamore tree
poem by Emily Caudill
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Sestina: Here in Katmandu
We have climbed the mountain.
There's nothing more to do.
It is terrible to come down
To the valley
Where, amidst many flowers,
One thinks of snow,
As formerly, amidst snow,
Climbing the mountain,
One thought of flowers,
Tremulous, ruddy with dew,
In the valley.
One caught their scent coming down.
It is difficult to adjust, once down,
To the absense of snow.
Clear days, from the valley,
One looks up at the mountain.
What else is there to do?
Prayer wheels, flowers!
Let the flowers
Fade, the prayer wheels run down.
What have they to do
With us who have stood atop the snow
Atop the mountain,
Flags seen from the valley?
It might be possible to live in the valley,
To bury oneself among flowers,
If one could forget the mountain,
How, never once looking down,
Stiff, blinded with snow,
One knew what to do.
Meanwhile it is not easy here in Katmandu,
Especially when to the valley
That wind which means snow
Elsewhere, but here means flowers,
Comes down,
As soon it must, from the mountain.
poem by Donald Justice
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