Several weathers in spring
Several weathers in spring
~
a spring morning began
clouds broke for the sun
and returned to claim the sky
rain fell into a shower of hail
and the wind blew it all dry
the sun returned for a spell
and quickly went away
people spoke of sleet and snow
where it fell elsewhere
I had heard or was told
in the room, behind the window
nothing seemed to change
the temperature was modest
and the air still and dry
it was only the picture changing
dependent on the weather
before the light slowly left
and we returned to the night
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Winter Song
Rain and wind, and wind and rain.
Will the Summer come again?
Rain on houses, on the street,
Wetting all the people's feet,
Though they run with might and main.
Rain and wind, and wind and rain.
Snow and sleet, and sleet and snow.
Will the Winter never go?
What do beggar children do
With no fire to cuddle to,
P'raps with nowhere warm to go?
Snow and sleet, and sleet and snow.
Hail and ice, and ice and hail,
Water frozen in the pail.
See the robins, brown and red,
They are waiting to be fed.
Poor dears, battling in the gale!
Hail and ice, and ice and hail.
poem by Katherine Mansfield
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Some Sailed West
some sailed west and never returned
and for years
we who are left here
arrived at the belief that they must have
been dead
swallowed by this big gray whale
but some believed that they have
turned into petals
after a harsh winter when the
most beautiful spring later came
and they they spoke about
petals that turned into shells
that fell into the bottom of the
atlantic ocean and since then
we never heard of them again.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Four Seasons In One Day
Yesterday it was twenty degrees or so
And this morning it feels cold enough to snow
But Melbourne weather known to be that way
The place you get four Seasons in one day.
In mid morning a heavy shower of rain
And then the warming sun shine out again
And later on the wind blow to a gale
Accompanied by heavy showers of hail.
And quick as the hail storm came it then subside
This Melbourne weather like Jekyll and Hyde
The morning fine could make a sunny day
But will it rain? how can one ever say.
In Melbourne in the early days of Spring
As weather goes you expect anything
The morning fine but take your hat and coat
As four seasons in one day it has been wrote.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Storm
The clouds turned to gray
The air turned to cold
And I knew by that day
Some evil would unfold.
It arrived without a warning
Along with the pounding rain
And it was gone by the morning
As violently as it came.
But for that night I lived in terror
That night I lived in fright
With every sound I heard
With every flash of light.
Violently came the wind
Terrorizing with no form
Then came the thunder and lightning,
Arriving, was the storm.
Many trees I saw bent
Then God clapped his mighty hand
While many trees were refusing to fall,
But then, a tree didn't stand.
Rushing came the wind
Pounding came the rain
Crashing came the thunder
Quickly, came my pain.
Underneath my bed I hid
From the terror of the storm
And in pain and terror I cried
In horror and pain I moaned.
That night I lived in terror
That night I lived in fright
With every sound I heard
With every flash of light.
And the rain just kept falling
More tears I began to weep
For the wind just kept calling,
Then that night; I fell asleep.
Then morning she finally came
I awoke to the sound of peace and birds
The sound of thunder and rain was gone
Which had awoke my sleeping world.
Then outside towards the sky I stared,
To the clouds God he did call
I saw Gods hand moving the wind
Commanding the rain not to fall.
Then the sun began to shine
So on my knees I fell to pray
Then again, I began to cry
Thanking God; the storm had went away.
poem by Randy McClave
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Victoria's Weather
On fifth day of September five days into the Spring
The currawongs the birds of rain on the high gum trees sing
And weather back to Winter change and chill the breezes blow
And it's been hailing all the day and cold enough to snow.
In latter days of Winter the weather nice and fine
And morning paddocks gray with frost that melted in sunshine
And temperatures rose through the day to near twenty degrees
And warmth in the sunshine and warmth in the breeze.
Victoria's weather changes quick it's always been that way
And a heavy shower of cold Spring hail has left the garden gray
A high of five a low of two that's what the forecast say
In the only place that you will get four Seasons in one day.
The currawongs the birds of rain sing on the tall gum trees
On this the coldest day of Spring it's only five degrees
And through the wood on Selby hill the chilly breezes blow
And it's been hailing all the day and cold enough to snow.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Whispers In The Dark
I was relaxing in my unlit sitting room
when I heard an unusual sound.
I questioned my sense of hearing because
I knew no one else was around.
It stopped so I returned to my thoughts,
then I heard it once more.
This time it sounded like whispering,
but I wasn't entirely sure.
I sat up and strained to listen,
but again nothing was there.
Sitting back I dismissed it as wind
playing tricks in the air.
Moments later it happened again,
so I jumped up and turned on the light,
After looking closely around the room,
everything seemed to be alright.
I turned off the light and sat down again,
and blamed my active imagination.
With the silence, peace of mind returned,
so did the cause of my consternation.
poem by Orlando Belo
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The Ship That Never Returned
On a summer's day while the waves were rippling, with a quiet and a gentle breeze;
A ship set sail with a cargo laden for a port beyond the sea.
Did she ever return? No, she never returned, and her fate is still unlearned,
But a last poor man set sail commander, on a ship that never returned.
There were sad farewells, there were friends forsaken, and her fate is still unlearned,
But a last poor man set sail commander on a ship that never returned.
Did she ever return? No, she never returned, and her fate is still unlearned,
But a last poor man set sail commander, on a ship that never returned.
Said a feeble lad to his aged mother, I must cross that deep blue sea,
For I hear of a land in the far off country, where there's health and strength for me.
Did she ever return? No, she never returned, and her fate is still unlearned,
But a last poor man set sail commander, on a ship that never returned.
'Tis a gleam of hope and a maze of danger, and our fate is still to learn,
And a last poor man set sail commander, on a ship that never returned.
Did she ever return? No, she never returned, and her fate is still unlearned,
But a last poor man set sail commander, on a ship that never returned.
Said this feeble lad to his aged mother, as he kissed his weeping wife,
"Just one more purse of that golden treasure, it will last us all through life.
Did she ever return? No, she never returned, and her fate is still unlearned,
But a last poor man set sail commander, on a ship that never returned.
"Then we'll live in peace and joy together and enjoy all I have earned."
So they sent him forth with a smile and blessing on a ship that never returned.
Did she ever return? No, she never returned, and her fate is still unlearned,
But a last poor man set sail commander, on a ship that never returned.
poem by Henry Clay Work
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Seasons
Enjoying the walk, with no talk
the air so crisp, the breeze so light
the sun so bright
the leaves are changing, falling in range
the animals storing for a cold winter night
the coats are hanging, will be changing
the seasons are changing so rapidly
where did the summer go
the fall so beautiful, the sunsets so breathless
the rain so cold, the clouds so gray
changing to snow, and growing
waiting for spring to bring
the green and the dream
of beautiful flowers and the gift of life
to the season change
but we love the changes of all
circle of nature, the beauty it brings
for all to sing, giving me spring
poem by Michael Peterson
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The Weather Man
Winter, spring, summer or fall
It’s the Weather Man’s call.
Common complaints:
“This weather is so depressing”
“I’m sick of all of this rain”
“It’s so gloomy outside today”
Consider God’s conversation with Job:
Did you lay the foundation of the earth?
Have you ever commanded the morning
And caused the dawn to take its place?
Have you ever entered the storehouse of snow,
Or seen the storehouses of the hail?
Can you lead a constellation in its season?
Do you know the ordinance of the stars?
Can you speak to the clouds, and can you send forth lightning?
You, the fault finder, can you contend with God?
Do you condemn God, so that you may be justified?
Winter, spring, summer or fall
It is The Weather Man’s call!
poem by Mary Carter
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I'm Alive (That Was The Day My Dead Pet Returned To Save My Life)
I was just kicking down the street
And the sun was in my eyes
So I couldn't see the truck
That was sixty times my size
And just seconds off from splattering me
Let me tell you
I was so scared I couldn't move
Like my boots were full of glue
Then I felt a little tug
And I thought of good Old Blue
And he pulled me from that catastrophe
That was the day
My dead pet returned to save my life
I'm alive
He's alive
I'm alive
I was spitting in the canyon
Near the cliff up on the mountain
When an unexpected sneeze
Hung me in the breeze
At forty five degrees in the sky
Suddenly I felt something
Had me by the belt
And in between my praying
Swore I heard a stallion neighing
Was the ghost of my horse
And I cried, yes I cried
That was the day
My dead pet returned to save my life
That was the day
My dead pet returned to save my life
I'm alive
He's alive
Hey, I'm alive
Things were getting gory
Got caught on territory
Belonging to the Crutches
In an alley in their clutches
Looking kind of dismal that night
Well the leader's name was Fats
Swinging broken baseball bats
Things got really frantic
Starting jumping in their panic
That was the day
My dead pet returned to save my life
That was the day
My dead pet returned to save my life
I'm alive, I'm alive, real alive
That was the day my dead pet returned
That was the day my dead pet returned
That was the day my dead pet returned
That was the day my dead pet returned
To save my life
Hallucinating billions of rats
Lots of rats
I'm alive, I'm alive
He's alive, he's alive, he's alive
I'm alive, yeah
He's alive, he's alive
I'm alive, real alive
Alive, alive, alive
Alive, alive, alive, alive
Alive, alive, alive, alive
I'm alive
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Song Of Spring
The Spring comes slowly up this way,
Slowly, slowly,
Under a snood of hodden grey.
The black and white for her array,
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.
Where is her green that was so gay?
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.
Unto a world too sick for May,
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.
Where are the lads that used to play?
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.
She has no heart for holiday,
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.
The trees are out in Heaven they say.
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up our way.
poem by Katharine Tynan
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No Longer Adrift
No longer adrift, I have returned;
Returned to the place of my birth,
The origin of my love's declaration.
I have returned to the sweetfullness
Of timelessness, on nature's breast
Yearned and in mourning, as since scorned.
But I still have my faith, I still have my love,
For the voices they speak to me, through your words.
poem by Harriet James
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Sure Got Cold After The Rain Fell
Album: Sharp Dressed Men: A Tribute To ZZ Top
(Billy F. Gibbons)
Rain fell this mornin',
Made me feel so bad
On account of my baby
Walked off with another man.
Like takin' eyesight from the blind man
And money from the poor
That woman took my lovin'
And walked on out that door
And it sure got cold after the rain fell
Not from the sky, from my eye
--- Instrumental ---
Somebody tell me
Makes a man feel this way
Like a river without water,
Like night without day
And it sure got cold after the rain fell
Not from the sky, from my eye
--- Instrumental ---
Started early in the mornin'
You hear that rain to fall
With thunderbolts and lightning
The wind begins to call
Your worry's superficial
'Cause you slept on through the night
But stormy weather keeps you wond'rin'
If ev'rything's all right
And it sure got cold after the rain fell
Not from the sky, but from my eye
Not from the sky, Lord from my eye
--- Instrumental ---
After the rain fell
And it sure got cold after the rain fell
And it sure got cold after the rain fell
After the rain fell
And it sure got cold...
song performed by by Alan Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Darkness and Rain
As i stand outside in the darkness and rain i try to keep the memories of us but they seem to fade away when you left no weathers been good all weathers been bad the best weather came when i was with you the best weather i ever had one kiss used to brighten my day 2 to keep the clouds away 3 kisses so i never felt blue but those kisses didnt matter as long as i had you darkness are now my days rain became part of the nights just take me away from all this darkness and bring me back to the light protect me and be my sun and be my shelter and save me from this bad weather.....forever some think im crazy some think im insane because i still wait for you outside in the darkness and rain
poem by Isaiah Ferguson
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Homecoming Of A Wanderer (To Bhupen Hazarika)
He returned home through the same village roads,
Some morning declaring his fight against time and its tides,
through which he had gone.
Declaring miles and miles of road shorter than his dreams through which he had gone..
Declaring himself anonymous and wanderer and leaving promises of returning winner.
through which he had gone,,,
He returned.
On his return, the village road saw the same villager and he returned on the same wheels of his dreams
And those dreams were still full of life.
On his return but he was no longer an anonymous, he earned a name which could travel boundaries of land, river, ocean and time as well..
And when he returned he was no longer a wanderer for everywhere he went he left a mark of the river of his village where he belonged and now he owned a home in thousands heart
On his return he was no longer a wanderer
He returned through the same village roads
but not without gifts of eternity..
gifts from the zenith of human limits,,
gifts of pride and honour,,
gifts of travelling the roads of life,,
larger than travelled by any one ever,,,
he returned for he had left with promises of returning to his mother.
For sunset is nowhere more peaceful than the laps of her..
Dedicated to the wanderer,
The Winter Talks to the Spring
Listen
to the rain.
It talks
to the wind.
Through
the open window
the magic of the night
descends
on the room.
Listen
to the wind.
It talks
to the rain.
Your hands
are
so warm
your lips
are
so tender.
Listen
to the rain
the winter talks
to the spring.
Slowly
now the wind
and the rain
erase
our footsteps.
Enchanted
vapors embrace
our love
in
the oozing thickness
of the night.
poem by Paul Hartal
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The Window
All night long, by a distant bell,
The passing hours were notched
On the dark, while her breathing rose and fell,
And the spark of life I watched
In her face was glowing or fading, -- who could tell? --
And the open window of the room,
With a flare of yellow light,
Was peering out into the gloom,
Like an eye that searched the night.
Oh, what do you see in the dark, little window, and why do you fear?
"I see that the garden is crowded with creeping forms of fear:
Little white ghosts in the locust-tree, that wave in the night-wind's breath,
And low in the leafy laurels the larking shadow of death."
Sweet, clear notes of a waking bird
Told of the passing away
Of the dark, -- and my darling may have heard;
For she smiled in her sleep, while the ray
Of the rising dawn spoke joy without a word,
Till the splendor born in the east outburned
The yellow lamplight, pale and thin,
And the open window slowly turned
To the eye of the morning, looking in.
Oh, what do you see in the room, little window, that makes you so bright?
"I see that a child is asleep on her pillow, soft and white,
With the rose of life on her tips, and the breath of life in her breast,
And the arms of God around her as she quietly takes her rest."
poem by Henry Van Dyke
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A Song Of A Spring-Time
TOO rash, sweet birds, spring is not spring;
Sharp winds are fell in east and north;
Late blossoms die for peeping forth; Rains numb, frost blights;
Days are unsunned, storms tear the nights;
The tree-buds wilt before they swell.
Frosts in the buds, and frost-winds fell: And you, you sing.
But let no song be sweet in spring;
Spring is but hope for after-time,
And what is hope but spring-tide rime? But blights, but rain?
Spring wanes unsunned, and sunless wane
The hopes false spring-tide bore to die.
Spring's answer is the March wind's sigh: And you, you sing.
poem by Augusta Davies Webster
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The House Across the Way
The leaves looked in at the window
Of the house across the way,
At a man that had sinned like you and me
And all poor human clay.
He muttered: 'In a gambol
I took my soul astray,
But to-morrow I'll drag it back from danger,
In the morning, come what may;
For no man knows what season
He shall go his ghostly way.'
And his face fell down upon the table,
And where it fell it lay.
And the wind blew under the carpet
And it said, or it seemed to say:
'Truly, all men must go a-ghosting
And no man knows his day.'
And the leaves stared in at the window
Like the people at a play.
poem by Ralph Hodgson
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Ice & Snow
People never tell of ice
Or the snow that glitters nice
Or of the icy crunchy snow
Of that most people do not know
The crunch that sounds beneath your feet
As your sole and ice compete
When in the morning as you wake
You see a single white snow flake
You look out of the iced window
The look out seems so very low
Because the snow fell all night
It has left behind its sheet of white
poem by Helen Windass
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