Living in awareness! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
Perception
A bird perched on bare tree top, surveys urban scene.
Wind sneaks in through crevices, in winter unseen.
Autumn leaf aboard the breeze, how with ease it falls.
Sights and quiet help to unwind, on instant recall.
Serenity
Now sombre, now it seems playful; nature mimics life.
My colourful dreams at night help me overcome strife.
On a trip to Uttaranchal, on banks of Ganges,
I felt tranquil as we drove up mountain ranges.
Joy
Night was out of fairy tale, watching starlit sky.
Eased myself out of the bed, feeling on a high.
Symphony of colours, forms waits with much fanfare.
Tying my white boot laces, brace for the chill in air.
Bliss
A vacation here uplifts and fills me with cheer.
Take off my boots feel the dew, a bench beckons near.
Nourished, feel calm and blissful, here, in abode of god.
Live your life abundantly, subtle cues I hear, Lord.
poem by Mamta Agarwal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
A Room with a View! ! ! !
A bird perched on the tree top surveys urban scene.
Wind sneaks in through crevices in winter unseen.
Autumn leaf aboard the breeze without a sound falls.
sights and quiet help me unwind on instant recall.
poem by Mamta Agarwal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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So Good So Right
This one is special for all the ladies
You never know I was that type of man
So good so right so good so, so good so
right so good so
So good so right so good so, so good so
right so good so
Feel so good about something so right
Could it last another night
Feel so good about something so right
Could it last another night
Feel so good about something so right
Could it last another night
Feel so good about something so right
Could it last another night
But you keep on watching the time,
Wondering what's on my mind
So you say you can't stay too long, cause
You know what I'm all a...
What I'm all about, what I'm all about
I don't have to sing and shout, what I'm
All about
You know what I'm all about
Feel so good about something so right
Could it last another night
Feel so good about something so right
Could it last another night
Feel so good about something so right
Could it last another night
Feel so good about something so right
Could it last another night
Yes it's the truth it's the fact, I'm coming
To you straight from
The back in a mastering room style
Don't be shy, don't you lie, look into my
Eye
I'll tell you why, I'll teach you about
Feeling high
Feel so good about something so right
Could it last another night
Feel so good about something so right
Could it last another night
Feel so good about something so right
Could it last another night
Feel so good about something so right
Could it last another night
Never before have you seen this, so I say
This feeling sink within my head, oh yea,
Oh yea
Never before have you believe it, so I mean
What I say
You just got to be yourself
Feel so good about something so right
Could it last another night
Yea, feel so good about something so
Right could it last another night
A feel so good about something so right
A feel so good about something so right
Could it last another night
So good so right so good so, so good so
Right so good so
So good so right so good s, so good so
Right so good so
Yes it is the strife of my life, to explain
What's in my brain
If you believe what I say, baby, baby
A check in, check in, check check, check in
Check in
Check in, check in, check in, a check in,
Check in, check into my hotel
A feel so good about something so right
Could it last another night
A feel so good about something so right
Could it last another night
So good, so right, so good, so right, so
Good, so right
So right, I feel so good could it last
Another night
A feel so right could it last another
Night
A feel so good something so right, so
Good
Lord, I said I feel so right
A feel so good, oh could it last another
Night
A feel so right, oh could it last another
Night
A feel so good oh could it last another
Night
A feel so right oh could it last another
Night
So good, o right, so good, so right, so
Good, so good, so right
song performed by by Ziggy Marley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fairy Tale High
On a fairy tale high
Don't you believe that your dreams all come true
The fairy tale world inside can bring it to you
You just have to wish, and you'll take off and fly
On a fairy tale high, fairy tale high
Fairy tale high, fairy tale high
On a fairy tale high
Just look around you, the dark clouds are far
Stand on your tiptoes, and reach for a star
As stardust comes sprinkling, it will brighten your eyes
On a fairy tale high, fairy tale high
Fairy tale high, fairy tale high
Fairy tale high, fairy tale high, fairy tale high
On a fairy tale high, feeling higher and higher
On a fairy tale high, feeling higher and higher
On a fairy tale high, feeling higher and higher
On a fairy tale high, feeling higher and higher
On a fairy tale high, feeling higher and higher
song performed by by Donna Summer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Wintery Day
The sun hidden in dark gray clouds Winter wears her shroud of gloom
But on the camellias and the magnolias the pink and white flowers bloom
And though the wind with a damp cold chill is blowing from north to south
Even in the depths of Winter Nature's beauty is about
The soft chirpings of the crimson rosellas so pleasant for to hear
Their notes do not seem to vary at any time of year
And the flute like notes of the magpie in the wooded hillside ring
In this their breeding Season at night his kind does sing
The harsh calls of the white sulphur crested cockatoos one never could mistake
One does often hear them in the wood at nightfall and daybreak
And the bubbling song of the grey butcherbird melodious and clear
Brings to the gloomy Winter's day the joy of Nature's cheer
The rain it falls in drizzles and the breeze has a cool chill
And the dampness of the Winter hangs around the wooded hill.
poem by Francis Duggan
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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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The flight of the crows
The autumn afternoon is dying o'er
The quiet western valley where I lie
Beneath the maples on the river shore,
Where tinted leaves, blue waters and fair sky
Environ all; and far above some birds are flying by
To seek their evening haven in the breast
And calm embrace of silence, while they sing
Te Deums to the night, invoking rest
For busy chirping voice and tired wing--
And in the hush of sleeping trees their sleeping cradles swing.
In forest arms the night will soonest creep,
Where sombre pines a lullaby intone,
Where Nature's children curl themselves to sleep,
And all is still at last, save where alone
A band of black, belated crows arrive from lands unknown.
Strange sojourn has been theirs since waking day,
Strange sights and cities in their wanderings blend
With fields of yellow maize, and leagues away
With rivers where their sweeping waters wend
Past velvet banks to rocky shores, in canyons bold to end.
O'er what vast lakes that stretch superbly dead,
Till lashed to life by storm-clouds, have they flown?
In what wild lands, in laggard flight have led
Their aerial career unseen, unknown,
'Till now with twilight come their cries in lonely monotone?
The flapping of their pinions in the air
Dies in the hush of distance, while they light
Within the fir tops, weirdly black and bare,
That stand with giant strength and peerless height,
To shelter fairy, bird and beast throughout the closing night.
Strange black and princely pirates of the skies,
Would that your wind-tossed travels I could know!
Would that my soul could see, and, seeing, rise
To unrestricted life where ebb and flow
Of Nature's pulse would constitute a wider life below!
Could I but live just here in Freedom's arms,
A kingly life without a sovereign's care!
Vain dreams! Day hides with closing wings her charms,
And all is cradled in repose, save where
Yon band of black, belated crows still frets the evening air.
poem by Emily Pauline Johnson
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Broken Fairy Tales
Heres a little story that I made up
So let's play make believe
In my castle on the cliff
I look out to sea
I just wanna have some fun
I just wanns have a good time
My party is nothing special
I just can't seem to realize
In my little fairy tale book
That's where my dreams wait for me
In my little own world
My prince waits for me
Broken dreams and fairy tales
One of those things I know so well
My fantasy dreams aren't real anymore
They're just Broken Fairy Tales
The wicked witch dreams in her sleep
She is making green elephants for tea
She cackles and cries
The witch is alive and she's ready for the sun
A white horse rides the waves
His mane is silver and snow
The moon which rides
Along the great tides
Is living his life to the full
In my little fairy tale book
That's where my dreams wait for me
In my little own world
My prince waits for me
Broken dreams and fairy tales
One of those things I know so well
My fantasy dreams aren't real anymore
They're just Broken Fairy Tales
Walking through my winter wonderland
The pine tree's sway, glistened with snow
As we walk along, we hear Santa say
'Welcome to the book of Broken Fairy Tales.'
Broken dreams and fairy tales
One of those things I know so well
My fantasy dreams aren't real anymore
They're just Broken Fairy Tales
As I wake from my dream I realise
That this is my broken fairy tale
poem by AnneMarie Hewlett
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Upon the lap of Nature
A lonesome bird
A whispering wind
A solitary cloud,
Nature is a singular scene.
A running brook
Gushing falls
Breathing woods,
Nature is a singular voice.
Endless meads
Dancing shades
A grazing cow
Nature is a singular vision.
A ploughman’s call
A melodious song
A barking dog,
Nature is a singular pulse.
A twinkling star
A silent night
A burning candle,
Nature is a singular moment.
A blossoming bud
A blissful moment
A graceful heart,
Nature is a singular mould.
A different season
A different mood
A changing hue
Nature is a singular feel.
Nature’s themes are endless,
Variety simply countless
Yet, the impact is singular,
Thy pulses are thine alone.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
What is actually this Nature? Nature is our own living core. When we are on the lap of Nature, we are within our reflections. We are born out of this Nature and finally return to her elements. We owe our bodily and mental existence to these gross and subtle elements of nature. We are in eternal communion with her either consciously or unconsciously. Our core is peace and solitude. The rest is all a forced mask. This is why we turn to Nature now and then for an all round refreshment. A twinkling star, a flying bird, a passing wind, a running brook, a falling leaf, a burning candle, a silent night, a sailing cloud, a grazing cow… these present moments of glory in our life. They all represent the philosophy of our life. They boost our mental battery because on the lap of Nature, our thoughts gradually disappear and we become contemplative and meditative. Everybody needs this tonic. Nature is a beautiful lass. Nature is a good philosopher too. Let us open our eyes and ears and be ready for a floating experience!
poem by Ravi Panamanna
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Hello, Night! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
As the twilight hour strikes,
I eagerly await the night.
My heart beat never rises,
Nor am I overcome with fright.
As the darkness slowly creeps,
And nature gives subtle cues to sleep;
For once, I don’t pay heed,
Just tune to my instincts.
For the night is my friend,
For me, it’s a Godsend.
It’s the night alone that keeps
Its appointment with me.
Noiselessly it comes, as I wait
We grin and make eye contact;
Hug, hold and warmly embrace,
I feel The presence of grace.
Darkness, silence and night-
My soul stirs and lights,
I hear the sound of my breath,
And stretch out on bed full length.
At midnight, when grandfather clock
Strikes a dozen times- ding dong, ding dong.
I quietly take a blanket and turn on my side,
Close my eyes, hesitantly… with a playful smile.
poem by Mamta Agarwal
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Return To Nature
Suppose I am one who has a big ego I did have big plans once I do recall
But egos are a thing that inspire in us the need for success and are part of human nature after all
And now that my ego is a bit deflated and others I don't feel need to impress
Something perhaps that came with the realization that my life never has been a success.
Still I am one who finds solace in Nature and Nature the only God of which I know
I've always marvelled at her strength and beauty and still my admiration for her only grow
I had a church God when I was years younger but I gave my unseen church God away
And I returned again to Mother Nature and in her bosom I will rest one day.
The free born birds that sing in Nature's garden each species is distinctive by their song
And the fox that hunts for rabbits in the paddocks these creatures all to Nature's World belong
And the wedge tailed eagle soaring in the calm sky a very large and fearless bird of prey
Too is a part of Mother Nature's World and in Nature's bosom this bird's bones too will lay.
The swallows fly to warm climes in Winter and return home to greet the warmth of Spring
And chase insects o'er the valley where they first saw daylight and as they fly one hear them chirp and sing
How they can find their way to a far Country in late Fall and in the Spring find their way home again
Is something for which scientists can offer theories yet somehow seems beyond them to explain.
The World is quieter in Mother Nature's World for man made noise to Nature doesn't belong
On sunlit tree beside the rippling waters the thrush in Spring is singing all day long
And Nature she presides o'er all her Seasons and she has seen so many Seasons come and go
Her flowers of Spring and Summer and her brown leaves of Autumn and her hills of Winter wear white hats of snow.
I do not worship false Gods any longer and I returned to Nature years ago
And though Mother Nature has so much to teach us so little about her I seem to know
Yet I feel happy to walk in her garden and along the bank of her quiet water way
'Twas an act of Nature brought me to this World and I'll return to her bosom one day.
poem by Francis Duggan
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A Walk in Mansarovar Park
The sun was ready to set,
The sky had turned amber.
I felt compelled to get
Out, as I suddenly remembered,
How the view made me feel.
I could miss a meal,
Not this gorgeous sight.
It just seems right.
The birds are homeward bound.
They are so high in the sky I can’t hear a sound,
I feel in harmony
It’s kind of funny,
Here in the Mansarovar Park,
Where I come for a walk
I feel one with my creator,
And all the mental layers
Of fear, anxiety just disappear.
It uplifts my spirit and mood
As nothing else could.
I feel a sense of being
And find no reason to sing
In praise of Lord at a temple,
While there is ample
Proof of his Presence in everything
I can feel his blessings
I am because he is
This realization fills me with bliss.
I bow my head in acceptance
And have no words to express his benevolence
poem by Mamta Agarwal
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A Colourful Family Tree
This world is made up of colours and,
I am glad to come up from a colourful family tree.
There are many colours around us and,
You can enjoy the colours in your bathrooms too;
For nature is full of colours!
Like the human beings,
I an brown in colour and my mother is a black woman from Africa.
I have many relatives all over the continets and,
My father is a white man from the U.S.A.
Four of my aunties are from Australia, Japan, Brazil and the U.K.;
Four of my uncles are from India, Mexico, Canada and Denmark;
So i grew up among many colours of this world.
A colourful family tree is what i came from and,
I am very glad to meet various colours in my life time;
For a long the lines of my growth,
I have come to love all the colours around me.
Colours are very beautiful and we need them around us,
They are in your offices and your houses too;
Yes, we need all the colours to beautify things around us.
Black is beautiful and white is beautiful too,
For we were made from the Creator with colours!
And i am very glad to be part of this family tree.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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I Have Seen Autumn
I have never felt the chill of winter
Nor the birth of spring
Only the two faces of Nature
The golden sun shining
Or the heavens openly weeping.
But I have seen autumn
As I looked at her
No cold winter in her smile
A promise of summer in her eyes
Her hair of autumn leaves.
I have never felt autumn
But I have seen it
It’s the canvass of Rembrandt
Dark, red, crimson, gold
But I have never felt it.
Is the autumn breeze damp and soft like her lips?
Is the autumn sky naked and warm like her skin?
But I have never kissed her lips nor touched her skin
I have only seen autumn
But I have never felt it.
poem by Shogunoka Ledesma III
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In Winter
Golden and white in the garden walk,
Chrysanthemums gather their bravest show,
‘Mid withered blossom and wilted stalk
Where never a rosebud dares to blow.
For winter is coming icy and stern
And the grasses rank in the paddocks hold
No plumy rushes or waving fern,
No buttercup treasures of fairy gold.
And on the bough of the peach-tree bare
‘Neath the curtained window open thrown,
All in the chill and frosty air
A little brown bird is singing alone.
Sing on little bird, for the sky grows red
And the night wind is rising cold and chill,
And Death is coming with footsteps dread
To the farmhouse under the lonely hill.
Over the mountain and down by the creek,
Stirring the rushes with icy breath,
Waileth the wind in the tree-tops bleak-
Rustling of wings of the angel of Death.
Sing on little bird from thy throbbing throat
She smiles to hear on her bed of pain;
When thou triest in summer they fuller note
No more will she listen and smile again.
Sing of the land where the roses bloom
In the glorious summer that lasts for aye;
Tell to the soul so near the tomb
What our trembling lips cannot bear to say.
How can we tell her of brighter skies
When faith seems failing and hope is fled?
God pity us all when the chill earth lies
Over the face of our darling dead!
poem by Alice Guerin Crist
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Meditation. for Sonny Rainshine
The shifting blues of soft twilight, precursor to the fall of night.
From palest blue to indigo the colours waver come and go
.No earthly artist though they try can possibly identify
the boundaries between the hues which swirl and blend just as they choose.
Before they’re overtaken by darkness of night that rules the sky
Until the Moons serenity appears on high for all to see.
Here in the quiet countryside I meditate each eventide
Upon the qualities of light which alter with the fall of night.
Though it grows dark I still can see my eyes can work efficiently adjusting to the changing light though colours fade to black and white. An interlude a passing phase which flees before the silver rays
the newly risen moon supplies. Colours return delight our eyes
Though there’s a subtle difference the colours now are less intense
than those seen by the light of day. As if they’re altered in some way
Although I’m forced to recognise this may be due to tired eyes
I’m half convinced against my will that moonlight can and does instil
some new dimension to how we see.Adding some new delicacy
to our perception of the light. Perhaps we achieve clearer sight.
28-Feb-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Duet
Beauty in Black and white
The trees are now of leaves bereft.
Stark silhouettes against the sky
but here and there an odd leaf’s left.
Clinging to life determinedly.
But in due course they to will fall
They’ve played their part it’s time to go
They have no chance, no chance at all
to defy the winds which blow
The wintry blasts will tear them loose,
just as they are supposed to do
Although they try they can't refuse
Nature decrees it must be so
There is no place for leaves of green.
When winter dominates the scene
Simplicity
Rich autumn colours will soon fade.
Though for a while the beauty show
with brilliant colours on parade.
Will too soon be forced to go.
When winter king resumes his rule.
It is his turn he has the right,
the autumn winds his favourite tool
to change the world to black and white
His artistry is monochrome
but has a beauty all its own.
Which some of us find most welcome.
The autumn colours overdone.
Content with the austerity
of winters simpler artistr
16-Oct-08
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Indian Summer
Here in the Autumn of my days
My life is mellowed in a haze.
Unpleasant sights are none to clear,
Discordant sounds I hardly hear.
Infirmities like buffers soft
Sustain me tranquilly aloft.
I'm deaf to duffers, blind to bores,
Peace seems to percolate my pores.
I fold my hands, keep quiet mind,
In dogs and children joy I find.
With temper tolerant and mild,
Myself you'd almost think a child.
Yea, I have come on pleasant ways
Here in the Autumn of my days.
Here in the Autumn of my days
I can allow myself to laze,
To rest and give myself to dreams:
Life never was so sweet, it seems.
I haven't lost my sense of smell,
My taste-buds never served so well.
I love to eat - delicious food
Has never seemed one half so good.
In tea and coffee I delight,
I smoke and sip my grog at night.
I have a softer sense of touch,
For comfort I enjoy so much.
My skis are far more blues than greys,
Here in the Autumn of my days.
Here in the Autumn of my days
My heart is full of peace and praise.
Yet though I know that Winter's near,
I'll meet and greet it with a cheer.
With friendly books, with cosy fires,
And few but favourite desires,
I'll live from strife and woe apart,
And make a Heaven in my heart.
For Goodness, I have learned, is best,
And should by Kindness be expressed.
And so December with a smile
I'll wait and welcome, but meanwhile,
Blest interlude! The Gods I praise,
For this, the Autumn of my days.
poem by Robert William Service
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On A Moonlit Night In July
A full moon does silently creep it's way across the starlit sky
And the flute of the magpie I hear on this cool Winter night in July
He does not sing for the love of song he sings to defend territory
Whilst most others birds are asleep he pipes high on a wattle tree
With a wife and a nest to defend in his nesting time of the year
He pipes a warning to males of his kind that to us sounds melodious and clear,
The spur wing plovers in the park above their nesting grounds do fly
They scream at the dog, fox or cat who to their ground nest is prowling nearby
In the calm of a Winter night of such beauty a Nature Poet would write
A poem that lovers of Nature poetry would read and to others feel glad to recite
On a gum tree a brush tail possum calls for a mate his hoarse voice one cannot mistake
He will be in the dark ceiling of a nearby house before the sun rise at daybreak
And the boobook owl calls out mopoke a night predator of human kind shy
The nocturnal creatures out and about on a moonlit night in July.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Man & Woman
Two faces of the same subtle world
That constitute the complete world,
Two spins of the same subtle force
That generate all works in universe,
Man and woman are god in halves.
Man and woman in pure forms,
Harmony at its most blissful kind;
Man and woman in harmony spawn
A world of love, peace, contentment,
Where god exists in purest form.
Man and woman are gentle flames
Eager to fill to a single flame;
But, alas, clash shadows 'neath flames
To disturb harmony's fluid flow,
Blur creations with shadows' patches.
A magnetic wind fills man and woman
To pull them together and add to each;
Each is other's need fulfilment, bliss,
And there lies the nature's subtle skill
To stir the world with excitements.
No world is world sans man and woman
To fill colours and flow gentle emotions,
To flood the world with grief and bliss;
Man and woman make life live to live,
Barren like deserts without their match.
Man's half is laid in woman's world,
Woman's half is laid in man's world;
World ordained both to keep diatance
To struggle to reach the other's world;
Like honey's dropp on a sword's edge.
You play with fire to have your half,
Or cower to be safe and lose your Self:
So is the challenge to mould your life;
Man and woman, a pleasant challenge,
Of precious treasures deep in oceans.
Man sans woman, woman sans man,
Empty like a temple without its god;
They fill the void nature created in each,
They work vital forces needed for each;
They share and bare for common good.
Man and woman are length and breadth
Of the live fabric that constitutes life,
Man forming warps to woman's woofs;
Textures are safe till both criss-cross life
To carry their weights across to the end.
Man blossoms woman, woman blooms man,
Both fill around divine fragrance;
Like sun and moon, they complement
And light all the worlds day and night
And make the life a trapeze of pleasures.
Man is woman's needs built to a mould,
Woman is man's needs built to a mould;
And needs in pursuit excite life's course
To network each other to quench thirsts
By ways and means spared by the world.
Man and woman are eyes of life process,
Man and woman lead each other ahead
To treasures of life hidden otherwise;
Woman lights man's; man, woman's life,
If exists the lamp of harmony and love.
poem by Praveen Kumar
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How i feel
Ask me how i feel; summer rain in sea of flowers
Or clifftop sunset, lighting ocean's sleeping rage
To feel night's hidden storm as starlit beauty cowers
Releasing sweet sonnet from the page.
Ask me how i feel when trees dance with sun's soft kiss
Or breeze softly combs morning meadow like a wave
To feel snowflake cool a fevered brow with bliss
And view the solitary bird that twilight sky did save
Then ask me how i feel about you.
Ask me how i feel when autumn carpet rolls me welcome hue
Two wedding rings in golden June
Distant music washing me with sky of blue
Dancing on white sands as friends disappear too soon.
Ask me how i feel when moonbeam lights a childlike face
Or grey train carries unknown love away.
When tear creeps down the lone clown face
As lost romance pleads in vain to stay
Then you know how i feel about you.
poem by Kevin East
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