Another Day
The sun is finally shining, warming my skin,
The horses are poking their heads out of the barn,
The snow has lifted, revealing green grass,
The ground still frozen, ice still on the pond,
Playing with the early morning mountain due, in between my fingers,
Off the leaf of a rose bush.
I pluck a flower out of the cold ground,
The sweet innocents of the little pink thing makes me smile,
Twirling in my fingers ever so gently,
Smelling its aroma,
Such magnificence in a small thing,
The peddles softly brushing against my checks
Sitting on this hard wooden bench,
All bundled up, braving the cold,
Admiring my flower, seeing puppies play, and
The sun that I haven’t seen in weeks, say hello.
Awe how nature can silently sing.
All to the tune of the kitchen mixer’s bellow,
Someone is making cookie doe.
Yep this is a start to just another day,
Another day, in Oregon
poem by Mrs. Cynosure
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Last Rose Of Autumn
Upon the leaf litter that covers the ground
The faded rose petals lay scattered around
The last rose of Autumn has answered the call
Of the cold grim reaper and so too must we all.
The last rose of Autumn she too had her day
She bloomed bright and lovely through June from late May
But the beautiful pink flower the last on her tree
Has returned to Nature and so too must we.
And now on the rose tree the tiny buds show
The green baby buds that to pink roses will grow
And in the green parkland the birds chirp and sing
And the magpies stick gathering at the coming of Spring.
Upon the leaf litter now faded and gray
The last rose of Autumn has gone to decay
And the mother who bore her has new baby flowers
And the fate of the rose it will also be ours.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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At the Pond
As I looked around the pond
I see people playing in the snow
Laughing and throwing snowballs at each other
Making snow angles with great pride
Children sledding down the hill as if flying
As I look on the pond
I see people skating
Skating like soaring eagles
Twirling like tornadoes
But graceful as a ballerina dance
As I look around the pond
I see a people having fun
Enjoying themselves
Helping each other as if they were their little sister
I see a peaceful and fun world
But I
I am having no fun
No fun at all
For I am sitting on the bench
Sitting on the bench like a lost dog
For I am cripple
poem by Cassy Taberna
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One Thing With You
one thing with you
is this belief that i am nothing but just the idea
that i have been feeding you.
is it really only about sex?
i like it to be that way, but it is not really
i am a leaf feeling my way all through the air
floating like a feather from a restless bird high on air
scratching its side and then
letting go
i am a leaf falling
enjoying my trip down to the bottom of the earth
looking for a landing field,
a green green patch of grass
i like the dews early morning
i like the trees where the fingers of the morning sun are piercing
like a miracle
there is one thing with you
you do not believe in what i believe in
what is it? let things be themselves as they open.
do not think. just watch.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The First Cut
The first cut - is a criminal thing
The first cut - goes deeper in
Each impression
Makes a chain reaction
Each impression
Will never be never be never be broken
Im a white girl - you can see my skin
Look at this picture - that I m living in
And old scores
Never settle down
Ill keep on walking
Till Im burried in the cold ground
Cold ground
Cold cold ground
song performed by by Eurythmics
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In The Early Morning [2]
In the early morning
dew covers every piece of grass and flower
and I see green sprouts in the soft ground
that appears after the first rain,
some grow luxuriant and others are slender and fine.
Some dew covers every piece of grass and flower,
and new buds appear
on long green stems,
some grow luxuriant and others are slender and fine.
in an aromatic existence.
At dark red roses and pink hollyhocks
on long green stems,
butterflies appear new from there metamorphoses
while the sun spreads its yellow-golden rays,
at dark red roses and pink hollyhocks
bees and butterflies fly to and thro
in the early morning
while the sun spreads its yellow-golden rays
and I see green sprouts in the soft ground.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Growth of a Rose
A rose has been planted in it's place
Waiting to begin it's life as a beautiful flower
A shower of rain falls on the rose
Awakening the rose from it's long slumber
Beneath the ground where this flower is planted
It's roots have started to grow out from the rain
Soon the rain has stopped and the sun shines
The warmth of the sun's rays help the rose grow
Seeing the bright rays shine from it's source
The rose begins to reach out to the sky
Finally escaping the cold dark place the flower was in
It has at last faced the bright world for the first time
Revealing it's beauty and experiencing the feeling of pure happiness
poem by Sarah Bruun
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Flower Flower
Flower flower,
Seasonal art;
Gracious thing
Glory all worth,
New in each spring.
Beauty you are,
Breaking a heart;
Of you I sing,
With my full breath
And spiritual wing.
Flower flower
Fragile and new,
With summer so sweet;
Beauty beyond,
Tenderly treat.
Forever newborn,
When summer shall start;
Crossing my feet
When laid across ground,
In a garden or a street.
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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Pink Flowers.
Do not text me or think otherwise
I am just picking flowers from my garden.
Last evening I picked a red rose but
Wow! It proved to be too red for my date
Today I visited the same garden
The only flower I found was a white rose.
Where is my favourite pink rose?
This morning I cycled to the market
Sure, to buy my date a pink rose
But the only roses there were yellow and purple.
Tried to enquire where I could get one
But no one knows where to find.
Went to my flower vendor but nowhere to find
Where will I get my pink rose for my date?
Tomorrow, I'll travel far and wide
Only to get this precious pink flower
And if I succeed, my date will be happy
And my heart will find a solace rest
Amidst the residue of love petals
Just with the pink flower petals.
Where will I get my Pink rose flower?
(Dedicated for my pink flower date)
poem by Aron Lelei
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Perfect Flower
growing out of the ground
digging deep and far
topped with beauty
emmitting the fragrance of love
brittle through the body
strong in the roots
but thats all that matters
for that keeps them going
shining its beauty
letting everyone see it
all the time
spreading its sweet smell
with everyone that comes in contact
making them happy
sorting through the flowers
searching for the only one
that can fill the hole
that he has dug
he sees it in his sight
the sweet aroma
the loving vibe
the joy it gives his heart
the beauty
the perfect flower
gently grasping it
choosing it for his taking
only a few faults show
but the beauty overshadows the faults
in his eyes nothing's better
noone could ever replace her
with this flower his hole is full
it's the perfect fit
giving this flower
radiating with its majestic beauty
to his one true love
the perfect flower to the perfect love
you're all i want
all I've ever dreamed of
and in this perfect flower
our love will live on
poem by Joshua Norton
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Sorrowing Love
And again the flowers are come,
And the light shakes,
And no tiny voice is dumb,
And a bud breaks
On the humble bush and the proud restless tree.
Come with me!
Look, this little flower is pink,
And this one white.
Here's a pearl cup for your drink,
Here's for your delight
A yellow one, sweet with honey.
Here's fairy money
Silver bright
Scattered over the grass
As we pass.
Here's moss. How the smell of it lingers
On my cold fingers!
You shall have no moss. Here's a frail
Hyacinth, deathyly pale.
Not for you, not for you!
And the place where they grew
You must promise me not to discover,
My sorrowful lover!
Shall we never be happy again?
Never again play?
In vain--in vain!
Come away!
poem by Katherine Mansfield
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Watching The Flowers
i open the window
and look out to the garden below
the rain just stopped
and every leaf had the share of the
morning shower
dewy, each leaf smiles
each flower opens each petal anticipating
the sun
fingers of sunlight arrive
and there is touching and hugging
and kissing
light to dew to leaves
flowers to the rays of the sun
such a joy
like an early morning chat with a friend
you haven't had a talk for days
and you discuss
social studies
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Nature's Rose
As the vast nature
blinds the eye by its beauty
the trees grow taller
the grasses grow greener
The animals grow more peaceful in their natural habitat
But none grow as beautiful as the red rose
As the red rose grows day by day
I walk by it desiring to pick it
Sitting and waiting for the petals to grow more mature
To grow and show off the beauty of the rose
Years go by and the rose is almost grown
This special rose is different from the rest.
Others grow, beautify, and die
While this one grows year after year
The blood of the rose is pure
as it flows up and through the beautiful flower
But the rose has not completed its growth
I run my hand down the body of the beautiful flower
Shedding my blood from the sharp thorns
I grasp the flower and thrust it from the ground
As my blood drips, the blood of the flowers does so too
The red of both mix and mature and fall to the ground dropp after drop
The smell of the flower overtakes the pain
This is Nature's Rose
The Romance of Winter
It looks like snow, it must be snow, it really, really feels like snow,
It's on my lashes, and on my nose, it's frozen my poor little toe,
It came too soon, last too late, right now I cannot find my gate,
Inside now what a soppy state, this thawing out I really hate,
The fire it seems is getting low, it only adds more to my woe,
Outside it's cold with winters glow, as now the wind begins to blow.
On with boots, gloves, coat, and hat, out to the barn to feed the cat,
In this weather he won't get fat, but neither will he catch a rat.
The cows are full of milk today, the sheep have now begun to bay,
Chicks get corn, to cold to lay, the donkey's cross he wants his hay,
My husbands says it's no big deal, and checks the oven for his meal,
My coat and gloves I start to peel, where has he been thru this ordeal?
He loves the winter's charming feel, in an office warm... get real.
The snow for me has lost apeal, the charm has fled, from this deal.
Where is summer's warming sun, no more snow, I've had my fun,
Winter's romance has faded and run, now all I want is to be done.
But it looks like snow, it feels like snow,
Oh poo, it really is more snow...
poem by Teresa Dearing
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Love Is A Many Splendored Thing
Love is a many splendored thing
It's the April rose
That only grows in the early Spring
Love is nature's way of giving
A reason to believe in
The golden crown that makes a man, a king.
Once on a high and windy hill
In the morning mist
Two lovers kissed and the world stood still
And your fingers touched my silent heart
And taught it how to sing
Yes, true love's a many splendored thing...
song performed by by Kenny Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Summer's Kiss
Write me a summer song
plant here a warming kiss
seed it in these furrows long
in sunsets' languid dip.
Sing lyrics to my buried soul
which lives beneath
in numbing receded cold.
Sing to me underground
another season's bloom.
See my soul steeled against
against this dying cold abyss.
I shall not die in winter's cold
nor miss this year's summer's kiss
I'll bloom my soul's flower
in garden green-
my petals high sky'ed-
flower flights and butterflies
star dust destines;
all my hopes mingled.
Plant me here then
on ready cheek
just one summer's kiss,
my furrow to bloom
my soul 'neath
will rise fully watered
flowers fully bloomed;
Now start in me another
Hope's Season
even beneath
my winter's frozen
soil.
And here regard
Winter's frozen bloom
kissed by your summer lips
your's planted
upon mine.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Outside The August Wind is Playing
Outside the August wind is playing
swinging branches up and down,
grabbing on flowers that are still standing
with fingers which are desiring
and I wait upon birds to appear again
after their around-the-world journey
while knobs are on the branches of fruit trees,
ready to unfold in blossoms
in early spring
but the cold is making its presence known
with ripe lying spread out in the early morning
while the winter season
is still doing its icy thing.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Earth-Child in the Grass
In the very early morning
Long before Dawn time
I lay down in the paddock
And listened to the cold song of the grass.
Between my fingers the green blades,
And the green blades pressed against my body.
"Who is she leaning so heavily upon me?"
Sang the grass.
"Why does she weep on my bosom,
Mingling her tears with the tears of my mystic lover?
Foolish little earth-child!
It is not yet time.
One day I shall open my bosom
And you shall slip in--but not weeping.
Then in the early morning
Long before Dawn time
Your lover will lie in the paddock.
Between his fingers the green blades
And the green blades pressed against his body...
My song shall not sound cold to him
In my deep wave he will find the wave of your hair
In my strong sweet perfume, the perfume of your kisses.
Long and long he will lie there...
Laughing--not weeping."
poem by Katherine Mansfield
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Ice Cold Sweet Tea
vs.1 As I sit on the bench beside our tree,
I can't help but think about you and me.
As the wind picks up and blows my hair,
I can't help but wish that you were there
~Holding my hand, holding me close,
Telling me I'm what you love the most~
(chorus)
But now I'm sitting by myself,
Trying not to cry,
No one else could cheer me up,
No matter how hard they try.
I've lost you to someone else,
And my heart is on my sleeve.
If there's one thing I miss the most,
It's our ice cold sweet tea.
vs.2 Even though it's hard on my heart,
To think about what you did to tear me apart,
I don't regret the feelings I had for you,
But I wish that I could forget those, too.
~Holding my hand, holding me close,
Telling me I'm what you love the most~
(chorus)
(instrumental)
vs.3 I sat on our bench everyday,
My best guy friend came to say
'I don't know why you do this but I understand.
However, I should tell you-' and he took my hand,
and said, 'I wanna hold your hand, I wanna hold you close,
I wanna give you forever 'cause you're what I love the most! '
(chorus 2)
So now I'm sitting on his lap,
With his arms holding me close,
He's the one who cheered me up,
When I thought there was no one else.
I've gained the best thing ever,
And although it's hard to believe,
I have somebody better,
And we have better ice cold sweet tea.
Yeah, there's no one else better but him
For drinkin' ice cold sweet tea :)
poem by Rebecca Ryan
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Sweet Li'l Thing
A feeling of understanding
Is very rare
For someone like me it's hard
To find somebody to care
She's got a way about her
Changes everything
She's got a way about her
She's my sweet li'l thing
Sweet li'l thing
Making love with her indie rock
Playing on the stereo
Holding hands going down the road
When she drives me home
She's got a magic about her
Makes me wanna sing
She's got a magic about her
She's my sweet li'l thing
Sweet li'l thing
Spending days laying in her bed
My nose against hers
Then we went for a drive
Didn't know where we were
Man, I never felt so alive
Nobody gets the girl
But baby, I do
Nobody gets me, either
She sees through
She's got a glow around her
Shines on everything
She's got a glow around her
She's my sweet li'l thing
Sweet li'l thing
She's my sweet li'l thing...
song performed by by Eels
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Peter Gunn's Gun
by Michael Leonard, Bobby Weinstein & Jon Stroll
Throw a penny from the window, watch an old man play a song
On a twenty-dollar violin he bought before the war,
Though he screeches and he scratches and the notes are always wrong,
But he plays like he's in concert on the street outside my door.
Tunes to suit your fancy,
Are there any requests?
I'll play them for a penny,
(Play them penny music, play them for a penny)
And not a penny less.
He's the local virtuoso, it's his only way of life,
Plays ninety-seven overtures and goes home to his wife,
In the quiet of the evening while his frozen fingers bleed,
He counts pennies on a blanket to supply his meager need.
Tunes to suit your fancy,
Are there any requests?
I'll play them for a penny,
(Play them penny music, play them for a penny)
And not a penny less.
When there's frost upon the pumpkin in the weakness of the sun,
People stand there in the cold until his symphony is done,
In the early gray of morning, he's sure to come around,
You can hear him through the window when the pennies hit the ground.
Tunes to suit your fancy,
Are there any requests?
I'll play them for a penny,
(Play them penny music, play them for a penny)
And not a penny less.
They're playing penny music,
Playing penny music,
They're playing penny music,
Playing penny music,
Playing penny music.
fade out...
song performed by by Monkees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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