Your Grandma is a flower
Each and every deep wrinkle of her sad face
Tells a bygone story about the beauty.
The petals about to fall in the weary Autumn
And the boisterous wind begins its activity.
You cannot hold the storm Grandma!
Let the petals scatter into any direction likewise
But the root of the tree still strong enough
To grab the scorching earth.
Smile as the early summer days
And it's a gift indeed to the offspring Grandma.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Related quotes
First Snowfall
The last of autumn’s leaves begins assault
Of winter gales. The sap within the trees
In hibernating xylems call a halt
To most activity to some degree.
The birds that once resided amongst them
Already left for warmer spots unknown.
A few remain behind but are condemned
To weather winters snow and ice alone.
The snow begins to fall. At first, a flake,
Then more and more until the trees are white
And weighted. Branches, weak, begin to break
And fall to earth and soon are crowned despite
The slackened storm. The wind subsides and all
Is quiet and calmness follows the squall.
poem by Albert Ahearn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Every Face Tells A Story
Look at the man in the corner, hes sitting all alone
His blankets are made out of cardboard,
His pillows are made out of stone
Every face tells a story it never tells a lie
Every face tells a story it never tells a lie
See the man walking on the water, see the light in his eyes
He came into the world with a message to tell,
He came into the world to die
Every face tells a story it never tells a lie
Every face tells a story it never tells a lie
Youre always telling stories, youre always telling me lies
Youre always telling stories, why?
So think of yourself in the water, seeing your days flashing by
Its too late to see what you wanted to be,
Youve spent all your time, you must die
Every face tells a story it never tells a lie
Every face tells a story it never tells a lie
Step down
And make it work out right
Im trying to get to you with my warning
Been there
For nearly half the night
Look its nearly four in the morning
song performed by by Cliff Richard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tattoo
In this autumn storm, and this loneliness,
I would tattoo your face to my body; and at
every long night, autumn leaves will fall,
reminding me to write my 'pastorals'
and the serene skies above me, will
calm my ridiculous consuming passion,
the passion that makes my path misty and
foggy; is my body so weary, that your face no
longer is visible; its faded away the tattoo
of your face. When autumn rain falls I’ll
pick my chestnut leaves thinking you are there
to help.
poem by Elenushka Toledo
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Every Face Tells A Story
(m. allison/p. sills/d. black)
Theres no need for you to tell me
I can see the way you feel
I just know without you saying
What is a lie and whats real
Every face tells a story
Its hard to hide a lie
Every face tells a story
And yours is saying goodbye
Somethings going on, and I know it
You cant keep it from me
Your smile cannot hide what you feel inside
And I dont like what I see
Every face tells a story
Its hard to hide a lie
Every face tells a story
And yours is saying goodbye
Youre always telling stories
Youre always telling me lies
Youre always telling stories
If you want to leave me, leave me
No good living a lie
You can pretend that were not gonna end
But your eyes are saying goodbye
Every face tells a story
Its hard to hide a lie
Every face tells a story
And yours is saying goodbye
Youre always telling stories
Youre always telling me lies
Youre always telling stories
Tell me, I got a right to know
Pour your little heart out to me, baby
You know, you know I dont want to let go
Every face tells a story
Its hard to hide a lie
Every face tells a story
And yours is saying goodbye
song performed by by Olivia Newton-John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Neither the coldest
autumn wind
it could hurt me
as this spring storm
dispersing petals.
tanka by Izumi Shikibu
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Blowing Of The wind
I felt the blowing of the wind
As it enters my soul from deep within
It entered my soul, and wouldn’t let go
It is the wind from where life begins.
The wind, she is known by all man,
And from whomever sits or walks or stands
For the wind is known, when she has blown
And when she is silent, the world is alone.
The wind, it is mans friend
As I journey through the world of men,
She strengthens my soul, and she wont let go
So upon her breath, I will forever hold.
The name of the wind, I will call her friend
As she enters my breath, from deep within
She surrounds my soul, and takes a deep hold
And I pray that never will she not let go.
She is the breeze, I do believe
From the steps I walk. and from the air I breathe,
When she touches my face my sorrows are erased,
For she is the wind, the mother of the breeze.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Scheme
the seed sprouts
and tells the true story about
its being embedded
beneath
the coat of its being
beneath the fertile ground
promises of leaves
and roots
the sun is too harsh
to face
the moon too cold
survival is the aim
of every
red ant
the tree is big
and tall and the clouds
are friends
one day
it learns the song of the grasshopper
after which
the conversations become as nice
as buds
there are truths to hide
words to decorate
sweet
white lies
the story begins with
a whim
caprice its complication
there ought to be a nice ending
a freeing
it is all about the full blooming
of a red rose
i have all the petals inside my hands
to complete the
story
you love it
do not tell me.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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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Autumn Wind
Autumn wind carry me away
To a loving place in which to stay
Where the sun shines above the bay
With kind words in which to say
Where love will flourish every day
Just hold me close
In my world you mean the most
Like the sun rising over the coast
Sitting by the fire pit
Marshmallows on a stick to roast
Champagne for us to toast
Autumn wind carry me away
To a place far away
Where the passion comes to stay
Where the winds of romance blows this way
With a love that lasts all day
Autumn wind carry me away
Autumn wind have your say
Autumn wind save my day
Autumn wind come to stay
poem by Joseph Whelan
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Inside Beauty
It's not in the mirror
Or on the outside
For you to see
It's in the inside and
It's visible for all to see
It doesn't matter,
How pretty you are
Because inside beauty
Is only skin deep
It's beneath layers
Of skin muscle and bone
It stands alone
It's all you need
Not name brand clothes
The inside makes you
Yeah it's true
The heart, lungs, and brain
Are all inside of you
There are other important parts too
When the body begins to age
It isn't just
Looks that fade
A body begins to wrinkle
It looks different to people
Inside beauty never fades
If it changes with age
It gets better with time
Like a fine wine or like
A valuable painting's worth
There's nothing like it
On the planet earth
poem by Tameeka Smith
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Winter Song
Its a cold, cold feeling
On a real lazy wind
That blows all the way trough you
And the autumn begins
How it cuts like a sabre
How it chills to the bone
Youve got cold feet and fingers
And youre thinking of home
If I put my arms around you
Take you in from the storm
From your autumn through winter
Darling Ill keep you warm
My overcoats empty
Deep, wide and long
I got room for you darling
Till your winter, till your winter has gone
song performed by by Chris Rea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Villanelle Of Marguerite's
'A little, _passionately, not at all?_'
She casts the snowy petals on the air:
And what care we how many petals fall!
Nay, wherefore seek the seasons to forestall?
It is but playing, and she will not care,
A little, passionately, not at all!
She would not answer us if we should call
Across the years: her visions are too fair;
And what care we how many petals fall!
She knows us not, nor recks if she enthrall
With voice and eyes and fashion of her hair,
A little, passionately, not at all!
Knee-deep she goes in meadow grasses tall,
Kissed by the daisies that her fingers tear:
And what care we how many petals fall!
We pass and go: but she shall not recall
What men we were, nor all she made us bear:
'_A little, passionately, not at all!_'
And what care we how many petals fall!
poem by Ernest Christopher Dowson
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My Lagan Love
When rainy nights are soft with tears,
And Autumn leaves are falling,
I hear his voice on tumbling waves
And no one there to hold me.
At evening's fall he watched me walk.
His heart was mine.
But my love was young, and felt
The world was not cruel, but kind.
Where Lagan's light fell on the hour,
I saw him far below me--
Just as the morning calmed the storm--
With no one there to hold him.
My loves have come, my loves have gone,
And nothing's left to warn me,
Save for a voice on the traveling wind,
And the glimpse of a face at morning.
song performed by by Kate Bush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Still women love men
Wind in spring blows;
Petals wither.
Wind in summer blows;
Fruits fall down.
Wind in autumn blows;
Leaves are shed.
Wind in winter blows;
Barks get cracks.
Still trees love wind.
Still women love men.
27.10.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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In The Fall And When The Autumn Leaves
In the Autumn
When the beauty of the leaves begins to fall
One keeps on raking
Not to think about the beauty nature calls
One keeps on raking
Bagging leaves and wanting to get one and all,
One keeps on raking
And raking
Until their back is aching
In the Autumn
When the beauty of the leaves begins to fall
One keeps on raking
Not to think about the beauty nature calls
One keeps on raking
Bagging leaves and wanting to get one and all
One keeps on raking
And raking
Until their back is aching
One keeps raking
And raking
Until their back is aching
One keeps raking
And raking
Until their back is aching
In the Fall and when the Autumn leaves
Begin to lose their grip from trees
One keeps up raking
And raking
Until their back is aching
One keeps raking
And raking
Until their back is aching
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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In Her Autumn
without trembling,
without resistance,
in the autumn,
every autumn,
year after year,
a tree offers up its living adornment –
that which it has given birth to, nurtured,
and seen transform for the past six months.
and you can see the wisdom of her perfect surrender in her face,
the character lines
of seasons spent living,
giving to Nature,
drawn out across her bark.
And I know a Woman
whose face is deep with meaning,
radiating nature’s beauty,
simple, solid, stalwart.
She gives of her strength and solace
to anyone who approaches Her;
And in her Autumn,
Her dress will fall,
and she will surrender completely
to that which God wills, to that which must come to all.
poem by Marc Mannheimer
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The Wind
I felt the blowing of the wind
As it entered my breadth from deep within
It entered my soul, and then wouldn't let go
It is the wind, from whence life begins.
The Wind she is know by boy and man
And whomever sits, or walks or stands
For the wind is known, when she has blown
And when she does not, the world it moans.
The Wind, she is my friend
As a boy journeys through the world of man
She strengthens the soul, when she has blown
So onto her breadth, I will forever hold.
The name of the wind, I will call it Kim
As she enters my breadth from deep within
She surrounds my soul, and will not let go
Kim, is the name of the wind.
The wind is a woman dear
As beautiful as the stars painted in the sky
And when she sends her kiss, Men then wish
And the boys just kneel down to cry.
The Wind she is my breeze I do believe
From the steps I walk to the air I breathe
And when she touches my face, my sorrows are erased
For she is the wind, and the wind, she is my breeze.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Grey Day
When I get home its late at night,
Im black and bloody from my life,
I havent time to clean my hands,
Cuts will only sting me through my dreams.
Its well past midnight as I lie
In a semi-conscious state.
I dream of people fighting me
Without any reason I can see.
In the morning I awake,
My arms my legs my body aches,
The sky outside is wet and grey
So begins another weary day.
So begins another weary day.
After eating I go out,
People passing by me shout.
I cant stand this agony
Why dont they talk to me?
In the park I have to rest
I lie down and I do my best,
The rain is falling on my face
I wish I could sink without a trace.
In the morning I awake,
My arms my legs my body aches,
The sky outside is wet and grey,
So begins another weary day.
So begins another weary day.
In the park I have to rest
I lie down and I do my best,
The rain is falling on my face
I wish I could sink without a trace.
In the morning I awake,
My arms my legs my body aches,
The sky outside is wet and grey,
So begins another weary day.
So begins another weary day.
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It's Autumn Again
It’s autumn again
Leaves whisper the sound of our past
In loss they pay a descent
To the ground we fall
It’s autumn again
Our song is sung by the wind
Echoes of loss and grief
Through chilled air we wade
It’s autumn again
The waters grow as cold as our hearts
We are alike – crusted in ice
In ourselves we freeze
It’s autumn again
Flowers vanish from our sadness
Our beauty grows weak
Covered in frost we wither
It’s autumn again
The rain falls like our tears
Can’t dry our eyes
From the sky we descend
It’s autumn again
The sun shines then fails like us
Our sight becomes a wintry gray
Lost in darkness we will fade
It’s autumn again
poem by Andrea Rieck
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An Adult and an unforgettable Summer
Gentle wind blows
And weak leaves fall
Autumn peeps overall.
He gazed at a far away kite
That idles in the Western sky.
Oh! It's like his bygone summer
Gone with the wind quicker.
The same wind comes again
And where do you want to take him now?
His grandson draws a red kite in a pale blue sky with pastels
While sitting on the threshold.
It's almost an unforgettable summer
And his faintly kite never seen forever.
* I humbly dedicate this poem to the 9/11 innocent victims and their weeping families.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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