A Winter Landscape
All night, all day, in dizzy, downward flight,
Fell the wild-whirling, vague, chaotic snow,
Till every landmark of the earth below,
Trees, moorlands, roads, and each familiar sight
Were blotted out by the bewildering white.
And winds, now shrieking loud, now whimpering low,
Seemed lamentations for the world-old woe
That death must swallow life, and darkness light.
But all at once the rack was blown away,
The snowstorm hushing ended in a sigh;
Then like a flame the crescent moon on high
Leaped forth among the planets; pure as they,
Earth vied in whiteness with the Milky Way:
Herself a star beneath the starry sky.
poem by Mathilde Blind
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
God Wields The Sun
Astronomers maintain that we came from the sun;
Cast out from a whirling cloud of flammable gas;
Bearing on until all the solar system was spun;
Forming bodies as the whirling became a rushing mass.
Yet after billions of years our source is yet unknown,
According to these researchers even at this day.
To them we took flight like a white hot stone
And soared and circled in a beautiful display.
But believers know by Moses the first great plan;
How heaven and earth came in the beginning,
When there was no light until God’s command,
And no high energy vapors turning and spinning.
John said that light was the life of men;
A true light that came shining into the darkness.
A shining the darkness was unable to comprehend,
Because its understanding lacked needful fitness.
Moving below the vernal earth bathed in the light-
This light which had not yet established a source-
Whose effect meant the cause would soon be in sight,
When God would enthrone the sun without remorse.
He gave it dominion over the sky of the day;
Thus the sun became our great light bearer,
Whose golden gift brightens the day travelers’ way,
And often leads man’s quest for wisdom into error.
poem by Albert Price
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Moon
The moon hangs in the sky, shining so bright;
Everything below, enveloped in a silvery light.
Once darkened corners, are now subtlely lit,
As, silhouetted against the moon, bats now flit.
The moon appears early, on a winter’s afternoon;
Aware that the onset of darkness, will begin soon.
Occasionally, we get to witness a solar eclipse,
When the moon, in front of the sun’s face, slips.
The milky moon, reflected on the restless ocean,
Highlights the wild water’s never ending motion.
A silvery ribbon stretches from horizon to shore;
A mesmerising sight which, many people adore.
This celestial light is totally natural in its source:
Commanding tides, with a strong, gravitational force.
The moon waxes and wanes, from full to crescent:
Whatever form it takes, the view is always pleasant.
Everything in sight, is painted with a silvery splash,
As darkness and light, now mix together, and clash.
From the moon, there radiates a milky, white glow,
Which kisses everything, in its path, down below.
Illuminated by the sun, the moon appears to shine;
But this is all down to its make-up and clever design.
The moon is highlighted against the black, velvet sky,
And will still be hanging there, years after we all die.
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Charm, The
In darkness the loud sea makes moan;
And earth is shaken, and all evils creep
About her ways.
Oh, now to know you sleep!
Out of the whirling blinding moil, alone,
Out of the slow grim fight,
One thought to wing -- to you, asleep,
In some cool room that's open to the night
Lying half-forward, breathing quietly,
One white hand on the white
Unrumpled sheet, and the ever-moving hair
Quiet and still at length! . . .
Your magic and your beauty and your strength,
Like hills at noon or sunlight on a tree,
Sleeping prevail in earth and air.
In the sweet gloom above the brown and white
Night benedictions hover; and the winds of night
Move gently round the room, and watch you there.
And through the dreadful hours
The trees and waters and the hills have kept
The sacred vigil while you slept,
And lay a way of dew and flowers
Where your feet, your morning feet, shall tread.
And still the darkness ebbs about your bed.
Quiet, and strange, and loving-kind, you sleep.
And holy joy about the earth is shed;
And holiness upon the deep.
poem by Rupert Brooke
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Charm
In darkness the loud sea makes moan;
And earth is shaken, and all evils creep
About her ways.
Oh, now to know you sleep!
Out of the whirling blinding moil, alone,
Out of the slow grim fight,
One thought to wing - to you, asleep,
In some cool room that's open to the night
Lying half-forward, breathing quietly,
One white hand on the white
Unrumpled sheet, and the ever-moving hair
Quiet and still at length! . . .
Your magic and your beauty and your strength,
Like hills at noon or sunlight on a tree,
Sleeping prevail in earth and air.
In the sweet gloom above the brown and white
Night benedictions hover; and the winds of night
Move gently round the room, and watch you there.
And through the dreadful hours
The trees and waters and the hills have kept
The sacred vigil while you slept,
And lay a way of dew and flowers
Where your feet, your morning feet, shall tread.
And still the darkness ebbs about your bed.
Quiet, and strange, and loving-kind, you sleep.
And holy joy about the earth is shed;
And holiness upon the deep.
poem by Rupert Brooke (1909)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy!
Written In Aid Of The Leicester Lunatic Asylum.
Light ye the torch,--
The torch that hath expired;
The light with which was fired
Chamber and hall and porch:
But now the house is dark,
Its inmates rove in vain,
There shines but a bewildering spark:
Light ye the torch again!
Light ye the torch,--
It was a sacred flame,
From God in heaven it came:
All nature ye may search
To find a fire so bright,
And ye shall search in vain:
But quenched is all its glorious light:--
Light ye the torch again!
Light ye the torch,--
The ruthless winds have blown
Its tresses up and down,
Till it did scare and scorch,
Not bless: but one fell blast
Swept howling o'er the plain,
And left all darkness as it past;--
Light ye the torch again!
Light ye the torch,--
And ye shall blessed be:
Till many a bended knee
In chamber and in church
Shall serve ye: merciful,
Mercy ye shall obtain:
Your cup of glory shall be full:--
Light ye the torch again!
poem by Henry Alford
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
My Unattainable Star 2
Star light, star bright,
The most beautiful star in my sight,
I wish I may, I wish I might,
To be with you for just one night.
To shoot through the sky in an endless flight,
To see the moon-dog and the star-phoenix fight,
The silver claws and the golden talons,
The deadly dance of the rival titans.
When all is over will be on our way,
To skim the rivers of the Milky Way,
And dread the arrival of the despicable day.
But unfortunately you are but a star in the sky
And no matter how hard I try and try,
You’re still a star-
In that yonder sky.
poem by Warren Chan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Winter Night for Friend Hunter
Though almost imperceptibly. The snow was falling steadily,
unruffled by the slightest breeze. To coat the branches of the trees,
with layers of the purest white, which sparkle in the pale moonlight.
The contrast pleasing to my eyes. Beneath the trees a blanket lies
as yet a flimsy covering which is slowly thickening.
The snow continues relentlessly but quietly and stealthily.
The winter will remorselessly alter existing scenery.
Cover the faults and flaws with snow, assisted by the winds which blow.
When night departs and morning breaks, spread far and wide the fallen flakes.
Until the world appears to be as far as human eye can see.
A pristine expanse of pure white: a truly awe inspiring sight.
Which waits to greet us when we rise, a sight too bright for human eyes.
26-Nov-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Never
I wake. Yes, it's a coffin lid.-With effort
I reach my hands out and I call
For help. Yes, I recall the tortures
Of dying.-Yes, this is no dream!-
And without effort, like a spider web
I push aside my casket's rotting wood
And stand. How bright the winter light appears
In the crypt's doorway! Can I doubt it?-
I see the snow. The crypt's without a door.
It's time to head for home. How stunned they'll be!
I know this park, I cannot lose my way.
But oh how different it looks now!
I hurry. Snowdrifts. Frigid boughs
Of dead trees poke deep into the sky,
There are no tracks or sounds. It's still.
The realm of death in an enchanted world.
And here's my home. But what decay!
I'm shocked by this heartbreaking sight.
The village sleeps beneath a snowy blanket,
There is no path in all the boundless steppe.
Yes, there it is: upon a far-off hill
I see the ancient belfry of the church.
A frozen traveler in the whirling snow,
It stands out clear against the cloudless span.
No winter birds or midges dot the snow.
I understand: the earth has long lain chill
And dead. For whom do I conserve
The breath within my chest? To whom did death
Return me? What's my mind
Connected to? And what's its final purpose?
Where shall I go if there is no one to embrace?
And time has lost itself in space?
O, Death, return! And hasten to assume
The fatal burden of this final life.
And you, stiff corpse of earth take flight
And bear my corpse on the eternal path!
poem by Afanasy Afanasyevich Fet
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Rising Of The Storm
THE lake's dark breast
Is all unrest,
It heaves with a sob and a sigh.
Like a tremulous bird,
From its slumber stirred,
The moon is a-tilt in the sky.
From the silent deep
The waters sweep,
But faint on the cold white stones,
And the wavelets fly
With a plaintive cry
O'er the old earth's bare, bleak bones.
And the spray upsprings
On its ghost-white wings,
And tosses a kiss at the stars;
While a water-sprite,
In sea-pearls dight,
Hums a sea-hymn's solemn bars.
Far out in the night,
On the wavering sight
I see a dark hull loom;
And its light on high,
Like a Cyclops' eye,
Shines out through the mist and gloom.
Now the winds well up
From the earth's deep cup,
And fall on the sea and shore,
And against the pier
The waters rear
And break with a sullen roar.
Up comes the gale,
And the mist-wrought veil
Gives way to the lightning's glare,
And the cloud-drifts fall,
A sombre pall,
O'er water, earth, and air.
The storm-king flies,
His whip he plies,
And bellows down the wind.
The lightning rash
With blinding flash
Comes pricking on behind.
Rise, waters, rise,
And taunt the skies
With your swift-flitting form.
Sweep, wild winds, sweep,
And tear the deep
To atoms in the storm.
And the waters leapt,
And the wild winds swept,
And blew out the moon in the sky,
And I laughed with glee,
It was joy to me
As the storm went raging by!
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
L'Avenir
I saw the human millions as the sand
Unruffled on the starlit wilderness.
The day was near, and every star grew less
In universal dawn. Then woke a band
Of wheeling winds, and made a mighty stress
Of morning weather; and still wilder went
O'er shifting plains, till, in their last excess,
A whirlwind whirled across the whirling land.
Heaven blackened over it; a voice of woes
Foreran it; the great noise of clanging foes
Hurtled behind; beneath the earth was rent,
And howling Death, like an uncaverned beast,
Leaped from his lair. Meanwhile morn oped the East,
And thro' the dusty tumult God arose.
poem by Sydney Thompson Dobell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Two Spirits: An Allegory
FIRST SPIRIT
O thou, who plum'd with strong desire
Wouldst float above the earth, beware!
A Shadow tracks thy flight of fire--
Night is coming!
Bright are the regions of the air,
And among the winds and beams
It were delight to wander there--
Night is coming!SECOND SPIRIT
The deathless stars are bright above;
If I would cross the shade of night,
Within my heart is the lamp of love,
And that is day!
And the moon will smile with gentle light
On my golden plumes where'er they move;
The meteors will linger round my flight,
And make night day.FIRST SPIRIT
But if the whirlwinds of darkness waken
Hail, and lightning, and stormy rain;
See, the bounds of the air are shaken--
Night is coming!
The red swift clouds of the hurricane
Yon declining sun have overtaken,
The clash of the hail sweeps over the plain--
Night is coming!SECOND SPIRIT
I see the light, and I hear the sound;
I'll sail on the flood of the tempest dark,
With the calm within and the light around
Which makes night day:
And thou, when the gloom is deep and stark,
Look from thy dull earth, slumber-bound,
My moon-like flight thou then mayst mark
On high, far away.----
Some say there is a precipice
Where one vast pine is frozen to ruin
O'er piles of snow and chasms of ice
Mid Alpine mountains;
And that the languid storm pursuing
That winged shape, for ever flies
Round those hoar branches, aye renewing
Its aëry fountains.
Some say when nights are dry and dear,
And the death-dews sleep on the morass,
Sweet whispers are heard by the traveller,
Which make night day:
And a silver shape like his early love doth pass
Upborne by her wild and glittering hair,
And when he awakes on the fragrant grass,
He finds night day.
poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Explorer
Dearest, when I left your side,
I stood a moment, hesitating,
And plunged. The boiling tide
Of darkness took me, and down I went
Swift as a bird with folded wing,
And upward sent
The bubbles of my vital breath
That shuddered from my secret deeps
To freedom and light;
Then, dimly, on my sight
Opened the still abode of living death.
Amid the mire,
In which invisibly sightless horror creeps,
Sat, each intent on his own woe,
The host that burns with inward fire,
Crowded like monuments of memorial stone
Beneath a pitchy sky
Where even the flash of tempest dare not show,
Yet each of them alone;
And each was I.
II
Breathless I struggled up,
As if the gloom had arms to clutch at me
And drag and hold,
Until the daylight’s gold
Shook faintly above my dizzy head
And parted suddenly, that I might see
The sky, a sheltering cup
Of hopeful azure, and your eyes of blue,
One promise and yet two
Of harbouring bliss;
And your lips parted and said,
“Shall not we twain
Find joy upon joy on earth
Together and see,
In the kinship of all that has birth
From the mutual reach of desire,
A joy beyond this,
A fire at the heart of the fire?”
And we clung till our spirit was free
As the flame of a kiss.
III
So we soared and the earth fell away, and the region of night
Was melted in limitless day of ineffable light
Till the myriad souls of the dead were united as we,
Themselves, and yet merged in the spread of an infinite sea
The joy that is life, and around us, below and above,
The One that all lovers have found, our eternity, Love.
poem by John Le Gay Brereton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Celestial Warfare
The sun has fallen to rest,
And the moon shows up to play,
Clouds glaze the skies,
Racing with the arctic winds,
Attacking the lunar sphere,
Skies turn to black,
It seems the moon has died,
'What fallacy is this! ',
the Moon exclaims,
Reflected light piercing through the clouds,
'I will not leave this plane! '
Stars join in the brawl,
Flash of light radiates the earth,
a Star victim to the clouds.
Sun
The lantern of earth awakes,
Moon and Stars flee,
this Solar star perforates the Clouds,
Its sword a burning flame,
the Clouds counter with thickening,
the Sun struggles to maintain,
And unleashes its true prowess,
a Red Giant is formed,
the Clouds meet their demise,
the giant grasps them,
With its mighty flair,
Hungry for growth,
It turns on the moon,
David vs. Goliath,
Darkness falls upon our earth,
Cloudless skies raining Red,
the Moon has killed itself.
poem by Brandon Griffee
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Spent Husk Fallen
wonder at flight moth
once you flew in sky night
navigated by precision star light
flights imagination flame stirs
now fallen husk burnt birth
waste fallen to current earth flat
deceived by candle flame bright
dream seed new life earth cycles
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Moon Tribute
World of the night
What a wonderful sight
Moon white misty or silver
Senses can start shiver
Luna Lune Lua or Moon
Any kind of love might bloom
Luminous shadow streak
Over the lakes water peak
Sit meditate enjoy the sky
Dear one you are allowed to cry
Full Moon sooth and milky
Touches on skin soft and silky
Moon tune why be blue
Feelings can come so true
An embrace in your arms
Moon kiss wont harm
World of the night
What a wonderful sight
Misty silky or milky
Moon is the eternal light
poem by Morhardt Carmen Mencita Monoi Angel
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Love's Vision
TRANSPORTED out of self by Youth's sweet madness,
Emulous of love, to Love's empyrean height,
Where I beheld you aureoled in light,
My soul upsprang on wings of angel-gladness.
Far, far below, the earth and all earth's badness--
A speck of dust--slipped darkling into night,
As suns of fairer planets flamed in sight,
Pure orbs or bliss unstained by gloom or sadness.
Lo, as I soared etherially on high,
You vanished, from my swimming eyes aloof,
Alone, alone, within the empty sky,
I reached out giddily, and reeling fell
From starriest heaven, to plunge in lowest hell,
My proud heart broken on Earth's humblest roof.
poem by Mathilde Blind
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Winter's Spell
WINTER'S SPELL
Ended, hence, the glorious time of the sun’s lifespan,
The trees were fully clothed, in leaves
Resilient, they had sung merrily
But now, all had gone…
With deserts of sadness …..
What can a ball of cheese do?
Up from the sky…
If it cannot fill the tummy of a poor man...
The Moon covers the Earth down
Looking down at the rows of naked trees
With only a memory of leaves
Nipped by the frost, they want to be freed…
Ended up in the desolate stretches of snow
Eyes begged to see a scrap of light
But what it touched was a bare white Earth
His pale hands overworked
With no snow dogs they grieved...
And his legs were totally numb
With not even a sledge to slide through…
He was the only piece of life…
In the land of the white
With just a star to guide him north
Who put a spell on his fortune?
Who gave him this curse?
He shoved himself through the ice
Bewildered of his unpleasant fate
And at last his eyes found it for him
And far across, from the spells boundary
Stood a welcoming light for him
He ran with all his might
The home emerged larger
Running for food and shelter
He ran and looked through the windows
Marvellously lit decorated
Sat there in an armchair, a woman, old
With shelves of homemade thoughts to dust through
He knocked to get in
Opened it was by the women,
Bewitchingly beautiful, she was
The smile made melt down the things around
And he got in, leaving behind the spell
To live with her forever and ever and ever
That was the end of his fate
And from the windows he looked,
To see the moon smile…
26/09/08
© Copyright Aiswarya T Anish, Kerala, India
poem by Aiswarya T. Anish
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Quia Nominor Leo: Sonnets
I.
WHAT part is left thee, lion? Ravenous beast,
Which hadst the world for pasture, and for scope
And compass of thine homicidal hope
The kingdom of the spirit of man, the feast
Of souls subdued from west to sunless east,
From blackening north to bloodred south aslope,
All servile; earth for footcloth of the pope,
And heaven for chancel-ceiling of the priest;
Thou that hadst earth by right of rack and rod,
Thou that hadst Rome because thy name was God,
And by thy creed’s gift heaven wherein to dwell;
Heaven laughs with all his light and might above
That earth has cast thee out of faith and love;
Thy part is but the hollow dream of hell.
II.
The light of life has faded from thy cause,
High priest of heaven and hell and purgatory:
Thy lips are loud with strains of oldworld story,
But the red prey was rent out of thy paws
Long since and they that dying brake down thy laws
Have with the fires of death-enkindled glory
Put out the flame that faltered on thy hoary
High altars, waning with the world’s applause.
This Italy was Dante’s Bruno died
Here Campanella, too sublime for pride,
Endured thy God’s worst here, and hence went home.
And what art thou, that time’s full tide should shrink
For thy sake downward? What art thou, to think
Thy God shall give thee back for birthright Rome?
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
My Baby Sleeps
The wind is loud in the west to-night,
But Baby sleeps;
The wild wind blows with all its might,
But Baby sleeps;
My Baby sleeps, and he does not hear
The noise of the storm in the pine trees near.
The snow is drifting high to-night,
But Baby sleeps;
The bitter world is cold and white,
But Baby sleeps;
My Baby sleeps, so fast, so fast,
That he does not heed the wintry blast.
The cold snows drift, and the wild winds rave,
But Baby sleeps;
And a white cross stands by his little grave,
While Baby sleeps;
And the storm is loud in the rocking pine,
But its moan is not so deep as mine.
poem by George A. Mackenzie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Moon Mystery!
Auspicious or not, crescent Moon is always precious to poets;
Waxing and waning Moons have different effects of superstition;
Crescent Moons good or bad are ever poets’ great inspiration!
Crescent Moon is a basket for carrying flowers of Stars in it;
Crescent Moon is the boat that travels on the ocean of Sky;
Crescent Moon is a fine jewel decorating Lord Siva’s tresses!
Waxing crescent Moon with a Star is very auspicious to Islamites;
Thus silent beauty in the Western Sky encourages worn out souls;
But the waning crescent Moon in the Eastern Sky was a fun on tour!
What a beautiful sight the waning crescent Moon in the Eastern Sky!
On a sudden bus travel in plains I happened to see this in a cold night
Making me wonder as I used to wonder at the Western crescent Moon!
Moon is still a mystery though many rockets are sent there for probes
As the dark side of the Moon is still a dark matter for millions of years!
poem by Ramesh T A
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!