The morning scent of rosemary
‘Rosemary – that’s for remembrance..'
Can you smell it now?
that tough yet choosy herb,
giving of itself;
remembrance, perhaps, for Northern Europeans,
of that package tour to Crete:
rising early, that first morning,
the body clock not quite adjusted,
the sun already warming mountain-sides
before it reaches down into the valley;
already, the intoxicating scent of wild herbs
rolling slowly down the hillside, telling you,
this, this, could be paradise..
below you, blue morning sea
beyond white walls of huddled houses..
still in the air, the hint of night-time’s blessed dew..
rosemary: did you think it named
after the fragrance of Mary’s own humility,
mingling with the scent of manger hay?
mingling with the sweetness of that day?
no – ‘ros marinus’, dew of the ocean,
is the meaning of its name…
though, how well it suits her memory..
suits, too, that remembered Cretan morning;
for before the Romans, Indians used those words;
the dew, humidity, rather than humility;
marine, cognate with the words
for the clear, pure light of sun on sea…
that Cretan morning:
the rosemaried fragrance of remembrance;
sunshine and white walls adoring one another;
sky and sea, two shades of Maryblue.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Renewal
There must be a death
if there is to be a resurrection;
The demise of something
in part or the whole of:
that portion of one's being...
Only then shall we see
with eyes new as morning's first light.
Only then shall we have
reinvented ourselves:
allow ourselves to take the first steps
laden with amnesia
of the former, forgotten self.
Come and cease to be
and let today bow to the
kiss of tomorrow's promise.
Tread upon the petals of yesterday
and smell the fragrance that
lingers, that solitary spectre,
olfactory memory that words cannot outline.
Wound your forgiveness with the scar of remembrance.
Nothing is as sweet to the lips
than the ashes strewn from the phoenix rising.
poem by Frederick Kesner
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Father
Father, blessed father,
Its morning again.
I give you, father, myself, father,
Continue your plan.
I know together we can climb mountains in the sky.
No one can stop us when Im standing by your side.
Troubles knocking here again;
Ill tell him jesus has me by his hand.
Hell walk me through.
Father, loving father,
Create in me
A pure love, father, your love, father,
Instill it in me.
I remember the nights Ive cried for you;
Now I only have to die for you;
Thank you, lord, youve made it clear just for me.
I see the light;
Its burning out the night.
Oh, father,
Its morning.
Morning.
Morning.
Morning.
Morning.
Morning.
Morning.
Morning.
Morning.
Morning.
Morning.
Morning.
Morning.
Morning.
Morning.
Morning.
Morning.
Morning.
song performed by by Amy Grant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Light Of A Clear Blue Morning
Its been a long dark night
And Ive been a waitin for the morning
Its been a long hard fight
But I see a brand new day a dawning
Ive been looking for the sunshine
cause I aint seen it in so long
But everythings gonna work out just fine
Everythings gonna be all right
Thats been all wrong
cause I can see the light of a clear blue morning
I can see the light of a brand new day
I can see the light of a clear blue morning
And everythings gonna be all right
Its gonna be okay
Its been a long long time
Since Ive known the taste of freedom
And those clinging vines
That had me bound, well I dont need em
cause I am strong and I can prove it
And I got my dreams to see me through
Its just a mountain, I can move it
And with faith enough theres nothing I cant do
And I can see the light of a clear blue morning
And I can see the light of brand new day
I can see the light of a clear blue morning
And everythings gonna be all right
Its gonna be okay
I can see the light of a clear blue morning
I can see the light of a brand new day
Yes I can see the light of a clear blue morning
And everythings gonna be all right
Everythings gonna be all right
Everythings gonna be all right
Its gonna be okay
cause I can see the light of a clear blue morning
I can see the light of a clear blue morning
Yes I can see the light of a clear blue morning
Everythings gonna be all right
Its gonna be okay
I can see the light
I can see the light
Its gonna be all right
Its gonna be all right
Repeat...
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stealing Rosemary
If you need me
Ill be here
On my knees
On my knees
In the neighbors garden
Where the light is growing long
Stealing rosemary for you, my love
Its the tiny lies I tell
For you to please
You to please
Early in the morning
When the light is growing strong
Stealing rosemary for you, my love
Im stealing rosemary
Flowers crushing on my skin
Tuscan blue
All for you
Caught in rain and running
Home to you
Im coming home
Stealing rosemary for you, my love
Im stealing rosemary for you, my love
Stealing rosemary
song performed by by Bangles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Act Of Rememberence
Arms of steel, hair of gold
Royal blue eyes, with a rebel soul
You scared me, you still do
But I loved you
More than you ever knew
This is my act of remembrance
My act of remembrance
Doctor's face, said the time had come
I stood up, and began to run
My boy's voice, called your name
You roared back and the silence came
This is my act of remembrance
My act of remembrance
Drove my car, to your street
Hoped a ghost, I would meet
Well that ghost, he's moved on
But his anger, Dad is it gone?
Is the pain gone, is it all gone?
This is my act of remembrance
My act of remembrance
This is my act of remembrance
song performed by by Proclaimers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Early In The Morning
Early in the morning and I cant get right
Had a little date with my baby last night
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Now its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to all the places where we used to go
Went to your house but you dont live there no more
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to your friends house but she was out
Knock on your fathers door and he began to shout get out there boy
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to doogie chain to get something to eat
Waiter looked at me and said you sure look beat
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Orfeo
Orfeo shone.
He shone as music shines.
His shining, not the beauty of his radiant body;
it was the shining beauty of his humility.
And his humility – sometimes like gold,
sometimes like purest, deepest Maryblue -
the colour where the sky meets with infinity,
meets with eternity.
His humility, like hers, drew all things good:
and as you walked with him, all things were good:
the mountains, trees, and rocks and stones –
all things that do not move and cannot smile,
sang music to the heart, which smiled;
all moving things were drawn to him:
the wildest and most murderous beasts,
and beasts that look like men, or men like beasts;
some like vegetables that move…
all came to him, rubbed their heads against his legs,
licked his hands (were there the scars of wounds?) :
licked his feet (there too, the scars?) :
it was his fragrance that they recognised:
in the memory of these wildest beasts
deep in ancestral bones, the memory
of Adam’s fragrance, when he named each beast.
That fragrance is humility: that draws
the music of all things in heaven and earth:
draws heavenly space, and mountain air,
and fire of Sun itself, and water sparkling
as it springs from rocks;
the fragrance of fresh-turned, rich earth;
Orfeo shines.
he shines – as music shines.
*
{ from the treatise on the humble man
by Isaac of Nineveh, c.620-680 AD/CE }
poem by Michael Shepherd
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A Morning Call
The silken thread of a cobweb
catches the first drops of morning dew.
They hang like a string of jewels
to sparkle in the first rays of the sun.
The fragrance of an awaking rose
whose scent wafts through the morning air,
as its petals unfurl one by one
to greet the morning sun.
The chorus of the morning birds
whose sweet song of praise,
rejoice the waking of a brand new day,
then alight to fly the freeways of the sky.
The sleepy head tucked in bed
listen for the alarm clock’s wake up call,
but when it sounds, they want to remain
where they are, missing the wonder of it all.
poem by David Harris
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The Poem I Wrote In My Mind This Morning Walking Home
The poem I wrote in my mind this morning walking home
Is gone-
I will try to recall it -
It was not finished,
A few lines around an idea-
What was the idea?
I don't remember-
Slowly slowly in old age
The mind works less well
First it is trouble with names
Other peoples names-
And then what?
I recently cared for a man
Who often did not know his own name
And could not speak one sentence clearly-
The poem I lost this morning was not about ‘remembrance'
And its loss -
But on the way home I was happy when I suddenly remembered a name
I was looking for-
‘Perhaps it will not happen to me' I said
Or perhaps it will happen so far from now
I do not need to think about it'
One day all the poems will not be remembered
And these lines too will go to oblivion-
My poem this morning was not even writ in water-
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Morning Sunshine
Wait til the morning sunshine
Wait til the morning sunshine
Feels like another day, I wouldnt know
My loves away, from home today
Wait til the morning sunshine
Wait til the morning sunshine
Its just the memory, of sunshine
In the morning, being close to me
And it was.....
Wait til the morning sunshine
Wait til the morning sunshine
Seems like the world is late, for I cant wait
For sunshine in the morning
Wait til the morning sunshine
Wait til the morning sunshine
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Low
Dusk is dawn is day
Where did it go?
Ive been laughing
Fast and slow
Moving in a still frame
Howling at the moon
Morning found me laughing
Up and down, down
Low low low
Night suits me fine
And morning suits me fine
Ive been so happy
Way up high, high
In between
Down below
Low low low
I skipped the part about love
It seems so silly and low
Low low low
Low low low
I said the morning
It isnt your time
Barefoot naked
I can see your lines
It doesnt bother me
That you are right
Your grass is grassy wet
Your light white is bright
Light white light
I skipped the part about love
It seems so shallow and low
Low low low
Low low low
You and me
We know about time
We know how things go
They come and go
They live and grow
They pass and go
And glow and glow
Up and down
High and low
Low low low
Low low low
I skipped the part about love
It seems so silly and low
I skipped the part about love
It seems so shallow and low
Low low low
Low low low
I like your hands
All full of glory
All full of glory
song performed by by REM
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Morning Light Is Here
THE MORNING LIGHT IS HERE
The morning light is here
Hope is here
I try to think and to write
Slowly slowly
A few words come.
What have I done with my life?
What will I do with this day?
When will the real poems return to me
Have they forever gone away?
The light is blue and white
The day is here
The fear so deep deep in me
Is slowly fading –
God, if You do not move me now
Will I remain a loser forever?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Early Morning
(pal waaktaar/ mags)
Early morning
Eight oclock precise
I see the lonely august sun arise
Say you know
You will
Move me like you do
Out on the fields...
Im waiting the whole night through
Early morning, early morning, yeah
Ran the whole way
Down to the tracks
Through the doorway, then a last look back
Say you know
You will
Save me like you do
Out on the fields...
Ive waited the whole night through
Early morning, early morning, yeah
I climbed all the stairways
To find the rooftop clear
Got the shotgun lying with me here
Say you know
You will
Move me like you do
Out on the fields...
You know how it feels, yeah
Early morning, early morning, yeah
Early morning
Eight oclock precise
song performed by by A-Ha
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Remembrance Of The Good
THE remembrance of the Good
Keep us ever glad in mood.
The remembrance of the Fair
Makes a mortal rapture share.
The remembrance of one's Love
Blest Is, if it constant prove.
The remembrance of the One
Is the greatest joy that's known.
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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In the White
In the white, early morning
I hang my face
over her head
and kiss the flesh above her brow.
I hang my neck, a bow in the air
and kiss the tiny, tickling hairs above her brow.
In the white light of morning
I hang myself over her
and kiss the flesh of her skull
Her white skull
sleeps in the early morning as I hang myself
to kiss her.
I hang myself to kiss her
as she sleeps in the white, early morning.
She does not wake to my touch.
I hang myself above her
on the white bow
of early morning.
She does not wake to my hanging.
The window is cracked and taped.
The outside air is cold, forceful.
I bend myself
above her sleeping body
to kiss her, gently on the brow.
To kiss her gently on the brow
I hang myself.
poem by Chavisa Woods
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Between Walls Between Walls
walls around us
always walls around us
morning till noon
till night walls always walls between
us i try to inser some words
of consolation between us
all walls rain walls between us
there is no word for us
for it
we, it, we, us, there is nothing
between us
air, between, us, air, air, air,
between us, still walls, walls,
speak, speak
why, why are these walls still walls
between us
i guess, you are dead, then
cogito, eureka,
will i be a happy man then?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Your dew day
I can't seem to get enough of your love
A love which we are worthy of
A love to me as pure as that above
Your touch sending me higher and higher
(a woman is so good for man)
Titillating me even when I sleep
In you emotionally I want to be deep
Describing to you my nervousness
While engulfed by your sweet, sweet scent
My body is starving...
But feed me slowly, I wish
To savor you until morning
Your love some how cleanse me
Giving my soul and body the
Contact of dew on grass, first thing
In the early light....on top of the grass
keeping it moist, beautiful and living
I begin to permeate that which is you
As the day ease into noon
I am no more...
Leaving you saturated, stimulated, and
Regenerated,
For all to see.
My period of existence
Awaits for the raise of the morning sun
And your body to awake yarning for vitality
After a long nights nap
I shall just appear as an
Elevated host
Giving way to whatever your condition
Calls for...
You inspire me to release the best
I live to do just that....too...
Please and respect your (wild life)
I am your dew and I will come again,
Again, and again as often as you need
For me to sustain that which is your,
Natural life.
poem by whisperkwane Lamb
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I will love myself first
I am a flower
With a set of eight long petals
Shaped a bit long oval
Coloured sky-blue at the bottom
Turning bright-yellow at the top
And with long pollen sticks
White-headed peeping well out
I am an attraction to
Butterflies which keep probing
Me for the sweet nectar
I too attract insects
Very small in size
And which enjoy sliding into me
Along the slope of my petal
I hold for you a mild scent
That resembles the smell of jasmine
But because of the high ethanol content
In my fragrance
I smell with a fruitish tinge
While jasmine has a season to blossom
I am in blossom all through
Either it is winter, summer or raining
Lovers prefer me to rose
As I am big by look and thorn-less
Some devotees come to my bush
Every day and pluck me
And offer to Krishna
The God of the town
I appear much less in numbers
Compared to jasmine
But keep many garden corners
Smelling sweet with my
Special fragrance
I thought I am fine
And everyone else is also
Fine with me
Till that evening
Someone telling his lover
Not to pluck me
As he does not like the way I look
Next day morning
A mother was instructing
Her three year old son
Not to go near me
As my smell is allergic to him
It took just a day
For me to realize
There are so many others
Who have reasons for disliking me
Any way I cannot do anything
To change my looks
Or to change my scent
So determined was i
I will keep my colour
Looks and fragrance in tact
Whether people like it or otherwise
I will keep my glow
Whether insects get attracted or not
I am a creation of nature
I will enjoy being what I am
With all that nature has gifted me
And I will love myself first
Without bothering much
To know whether
Any one else loves me or not
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Blue Morning, Blue Day
Out in the street its 6 am, another sleepless night
Three cups of coffee, but I cant clear my head from what went down last night
No we wont have our own little ways, but somehow we keep it together
You hear me talk, but you dont hear what I say, I guess it dont even matter
Chorus:
Blue morning, blue day, wont you see things my way
Blue morning, cant you see, what your love has done to me
Ive always listened to your point of view, my ways are cut through men
And Ive always been a patient man, but my patience has reached its end
You tell me youre leaving, you tell me goodbye
You say you might send a letter
Well honey dont telephone, cause I wont be alone
I need someone to make me feel better
Chorus
(solo)
Chorus
(blue morning) blue morning, (blue morning) blue morning
(blue morning) blue morning, blue blue blue day, yeah
song performed by by Foreigner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sunlight on white paint. For the New Year.
The house across the way is newly painted white.
Right now, that’s all my being seems to need:
this winter morning, sharp, cold, bright and clear,
the morning sunlight pours across white paint;
contains a thousand messages, in me
interpreted.. or simply left to be..
this moment, that’s as much as being craves:
this morning’s glory; and I, born for praise..
even as I write, I watch the sun’s
white paint brush move across the house’s front
and tell the eye of reason that this world
is turning, basking, in this morning sun;
already sparkling on the Bondi waves
as if the world had just been washed anew;
cast early dawn’s pearl light on Taj Mahal
as if the sun itself could never tire of beauty;
Italian villa forecourts just hosed down,
the air all fresh to meet the warming day;
the gardens of Carmel, eight hours from now,
will paint their flowers fresh with mist and dew;
as every carefree holiday yourself
recall, as proof eternal of pure soul..
and here - the witness of my silent mind
needs nothing, need go nowhere else to find
its very self, this moment without taint:
immortal sunlight shining on white paint.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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