Autumnal Light
Softly they walk on a day in October the old man
and sunlight amongst ageless olive trees planted
when his great grandfather was young.
On the track there is mark of hooves from flocks
of sheep that walk here daily on their way home
after grazing on the upland.
Bits of fleece on thorny bushes, black pellets
and the pungent aroma of the wooly backed
still lingers…
He sees the old cottage the roof has fallen
in and bushes grow through its floor, but
he doesn´t stop, it was all so long ago.
Light is fading wants to turn in, time to go
home for him too, autumn evenings are chilly,
and damp, no good for his chest.
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
From Our Every Walk In Nature
From our every walk in Nature we learn every day
And though many of her secrets from us she hides away
She often does surprise us she always surprises me
And every day in Nature there's something new to see
Some of the birds of Nature we know them by their song
The white backed magpie and the blackbird and the pied currawong
Sparrows chirping on the bushes as on the path you walk along
Yes even by their voices one should not get them wrong
I've learned much from Nature and my wonder of her grow
And yet so little of her ways I know that I do know
Yet in my every walk in Nature and they've not been a few
I never fail to feel amazed and learn something new
The honeyeaters chirping on the flowering bushes by the pathway
And for a walk in Nature it is a pleasant day.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Can't Walk You Home
You're a rich girl we all know
daddy runs an airline,
mummy's eye is on the dough
and the butlers' on the bread-line
You're so bright you glide through school
brains run in the family
You've been taught the "how do you do"
and all your men are manly
I'm just a boy, not what you're used to
That is why I can't walk you home
that is why I can't walk you home
that is why I can't walk you home
that is why (Why) I can't walk you home
I don't want to run you down
I don't mind the money
but last time when you asked me round
you said I was funny
Pulling strings and pony tails
just to get to know me
The only time you'll ever fail
is when you try to own me
I'm not a toy, I'm no use to you
That is why I can't walk you home
that is why I can't walk you home
that is why I can't walk you home
that is why (Why) I can't walk you home
[Mike Solo]
I'm just a boy not what you're used to
That is why I can't walk you home
that is why I can't walk you home
that is why I can't walk you home
that is why (Why) I can't walk you home
song performed by by Level 42
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Landscape
My Landscape
Today, now as the weather is cooling, I went on my walk.
Hadn’t been here since June; simply because it gets to
hot to walk here in summers. The stony part of the track
was firm like walking on a cobblestoned street. The soft
part was like walking barefoot on a newly mowed lawn.
At the part where thorny bushes had made archway,
a tunnel of mystery, I hesitated. Needn’t have worried
the branches embraced me like a mother who’s young
son is coming home from the sea. When I stopped for
a rest under the tree where also sheep rest in the heat,
leaves, in perfectly still air, fell as confetti welcoming
the returning hero. How I love this odd landscape, once it
was tilled but now humanity have gone leaving the land
to its own devise and strange beauty.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Tree Sparrows
Than their cousins house sparrows they are far more shy
The moment they see you into bushes or trees they do fly
They do look attractive when seen in the sunlight
Though in colouration from the house sparrows the difference does seem slight.
Tree sparrows are birds one doesn't see every day
From human dwellings from their cousins they live further away
For insects and seeds they search on the ground
And in Winter in flocks their numbers abound.
Like house sparrows chirpers they too cannot sing
But than house sparrows more wary of humans which is a good thing
They seem rather restless when humans are near
One might say of them their's is a healthy fear.
In grassy places near bushes and trees them I often do see
But they fly into cover when they notice me
Their cousins compared to them seem rather tame
Tree sparrows for them is an often used name.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Wooly Lamb, Wooly Lamb
Wooly Lamb, Wooly Lamb, frisking along;
Wooly Lamb, Wooly Lamb, bleating a song;
Wooly Lamb, Wooly Lamb, wearing fur-coat,
Wooly Lamb, Wooly Lamb, looking so bright!
Wooly Lamb, Wooly Lamb, eating green grass,
Wooly Lamb, Wooly Lamb, let me first pass,
Wooly Lamb, Wooly Lamb, grazing so nice,
Wooly Lamb, Wooly Lamb, what a surprise!
One of my first Children's Rhymes
poem by John Celes
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Long Walk Home
If you see liberty tell her I will
Buy her windows on the hill
Laud her flowers on the sill
Till they grow higher and higher.
If liberty was a little girl
Watching all the flags unfurl
Standing at the big parade
How would she like us now?
We balance the power
From hour to hour
Giant guns rage
Its such a long walk home
Its such a long walk home
Its such a long walk home.
From vietnam to old beirut
If we are searching for the truth
Why do we feel that double-edged blade
Cutting through our hand.
America, america
Where have we gone?
Its such a long walk home
Its such a long walk home
Its such a long walk home.
We balance the power
From hour to hour
Giant guns rage
Its such a long walk home
Its such a long walk home
Its such a long walk home.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Peacemaker
The Peacemaker
The animal stood in the corner of the room chewing on
a bail of straw, dung on the floor; a woman, with a bucket,
came and collected it for the rose bushes. We know Israel
has nuclear weapons, but unless we are drunk and in bad
mood we are too polite to mention it; so I left the senate.
Stood on a bridge, threw tiny rocks into the river, a yacht
passed, and her navigator was hit; collapsed, but got back
on his feet again and waved to me with his fist
The Israeli army had blocked the entrance to the bridge and
Hamas, dressed in stylish black and silk scarves, the exit,
I didn’t know how to end this poem so I invented the phone,
it rang, Obama, he didn’t know either, I held up the phone
so both parties could hear his voice and they backed off long
enough for me to get away home to my thistle valley, where
eagles fly, sheep bleat, and no one pays attention to biblical
prophesies and self igniting bushes.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Turn, and Walk Away
i gave you all the dreams i had
i gave you all i am
now the times are hard and bad
dreams have crumbled in the sand
you turn and walk away
you turn and walk away
you turn and walk away...
hungry eyes are distant now
you're lost inside yourself
you only feel what you allow
you've put me on the shelf
you turn and walk away
you turn and walk away
you turn and walk away...
autumn slowly turns to winter
as leaves fall from the trees
you're staring through the window
as your tears begin to freeze
you turn and walk away
you turn and walk away
you turn and walk away...
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Have They Done To Me
What have they done to me
To the air that I breathe and all I see
Diseased and abused and alone
Tell me what have they done to me
They took everything I had
And crushed it all into dust
Erased all my names so I would seem
So lost
So lost
So lost
I pulled myself from my woman
To wander through the night
I'm a long, long way from emptiness
So step aside
Am I to feel alive
Am I to feel alive
Am I to feel alive
But I nearly died
Am I to see the light
Am I to see the light
But I cried
For so long
So long
What have they done to me
To the birds that sing, yeah the simple things
I held all my curses
I can't seem to rest
But it's alright
It's alright
They took from me all that one could take
My children
My loves
My orchards of tears
It's all been borrowed so we must say
They sit in the kingdom of light
And now you know how one can be
As free as one could wanna be
Cause time won't let you walk away
Time won't let you be afraid
So don't be afraid
For too long
Too long
Am I to walk alone
Am I to walk alone
Am I to walk alone
But I nearly died
Am I to see the light
Am I to see the light
But I cried
Am I to walk alone
Am I to walk alone
Am I to walk alone
But I'm almost home
I might seem alive
I might seem alive
But I nearly died
I might seem alive
I might seem alive
I might seem alive
But I nearly died
Am I to walk alone
Am I to walk alone
Am I to walk alone
But I'm almost home
Yeah, I'm almost home
I might seem alive
I might seem alive
I might seem alive
But I nearly died
Yeah, I nearly died
So long
song performed by by Zwan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Winterlight
Winter-light
No one walks on the old road anymore, not even on a day
when almond trees are in bloom. Blue weed and thorny
bushes are shooting through, one day the road will be out
of sight. It leads to a ruin of a house, doors and windows
long since stolen, a door frame made of carved stone too;
half the roof has caved in. A vagabond lived in the ruin for
a time, till gruff voices told him to get lost. I saw him slowly
fade away, erased by shimmering winter light.
He must have walked long was found in a grotto, seeking
shelter from the rain. Three days dead, they said. No saintly
women came, cleansed and wrap his tired body in a shroud.
Funeral at five witnessed by a pale functionary of the state.
Church bells didn’t toll. No one walks on the old road
anymore, not since the bushes grew eagle’s talons and a boa
constrictor took abode in the ruin.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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(Angry Poem) Blood On The Floor
Mark My Words,
This Will Not End Good.
I Can Already See The Blood On Floor.
Spilt Everywhere.
All Because Of You.
All Because You Can Never Lose.
Always Right Never Wrong.
Just Walk Away Leave It Alone.
Its Like Trying To Talk To A Brick Wall.
There's Just No Way To Get Through To You.
Mark My Words,
This Will No End Good. I Can Already Blood On The Floor.
Must We Go Through This Once More.
The Stress Builds,
The Headache Becomes A Migraine.
Too Close To Just Losing It.
Becoming Completely Insane
Going On A Rampage.
I Just Can't Stop Now,
I Won't Stop Now.
Not Till The Place Is Burnt To The Ground.
Buried In Mounds Of Ash Lie's A Key chain Its All That Will Be Left Of You.
Please Oh Please Just Stop Enough Is Enough.
A Scream After Every Heartbeat.
No Reason,
No Logic Behind All This.
Just Swallow That God Damn Pride.
Or Just Go Kill Yourself,
Yes Oh Yes Beautiful Suicide.
This World Would Be So Much Of A Better Place.
Mark My Words,
This Will Not End Good.
I Can Already See The Blood On The Floor.
You Opened This Door.
Now Theirs No Going Back.
You Better Just Shut Up Now, Now, Now.
I Say Bow, Bow, Bow,
Beg For Mercy, Kiss My God Damn Feet.
For We Have Reach The Tipping Point.
Just Relax It Will Be Quick.
It Will Be A Great Ending To This.
Mark My Words,
This Will Not End Good.
I Can Already See The Blood On The Floor.
As The Anger In Me Soar.
Like An Eagle I'm Flying So High Right Now.
With Nothing But Pure Adrenaline
I'm Prepared To Rip You Heart Out With My Talons So Sharp.
Mark My Words,
This Will Not End Good.
I Can already See The Blood On The Floor.
Theirs Just So Much Blood On The Floor.
Just So God Damn Much Blood On The Floor.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Little Cottage
A little cottage nestled in the hills,
its roof is thatched
and it windows carry Georgian squares.
In its garden pretty flowers grow;
while in the fields,
seeds of corn are sown.
Snug within its stonewalls
lives a family,
husband, wife and their two sons.
Sadness filled the cottage one day
when the sons were called to war.
Candles were lit; prayers were said
for their safe return.
Years rolled by, paintwork peeled,
but the little cottage was still a home
with its fire warm.
Day after day, year after year
they waited for their sons return.
Then came what they dreaded most,
letters laced with black
to say that their sons had fallen
in fields far away
and would not be coming back.
A wreath of black hangs on the door
for their soldier boys
who will come home no more.
Sorrow again gripped the walls.
As years followed,
the little cottage fell into disrepair.
Within this once happy home
only sadness rang.
The husband and wife
grew old in their years,
but always held the memory
of two young lost lives.
Slowly they too faded away.
Now the little cottage
stands silent for all to see.
Falling down from lack of repair,
but always holding memories
of happiness once there.
poem by David Harris
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Best If Gravelled
Under the bushes,
Is where they swept and kept their dirt.
It was under the bushes...
Priorities fed to ignore any weeding grew.
It was under the bushes everyone knew,
From where the soiling of the lawn began.
And there under the bushes,
They can be seen digging deep...
Burning the midnight oil,
And not getting a bit of sleep...
To bury any traces of denial.
But the maintaining of the lawn,
Manicured as visitors expect...
Would be best if gravelled,
As many disgusted visitors suggest!
And quickly under the bushes,
A working continues...
To smooth over the dirt,
With a time released scenting...
Hopefully used for all to forget,
The influence of the bushes...
And the planting of them all regret.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dream-Love
Young Love lies sleeping
In May-time of the year,
Among the lilies,
Lapped in the tender light:
White lambs come grazing,
White doves come building there:
And round about him
The May-bushes are white.
Soft moss the pillow
For oh, a softer cheek;
Broad leaves cast shadow
Upon the heavy eyes:
There wind and waters
Grow lulled and scarcely speak;
There twilight lingers
The longest in the skies.
Young Love lies dreaming;
But who shall tell the dream?
A perfect sunlight
On rustling forest tips;
Or perfect moonlight
Upon a rippling stream;
Or perfect silence,
Or song of cherished lips.
Burn odours round him
To fill the drowsy air;
Weave silent dances
Around him to and fro;
For oh, in waking
The sights are no so fair,
And song and silence
Are not like these below.
Young Love lies dreaming
Till summer days are gone, -
Dreaming and drowsing
Away to perfect sleep:
He sees the beauty
Sun hath not looked upon,
And tastes the fountain
Unutterably deep.
Him perfect music
Doth hush unto his rest,
And through the pauses
The perfect silence calms:
Oh, poor the voices
Of earth from east to west,
And poor earth's stillness
Between her stately palms.
Young Love lies drowsing
Away to poppied death;
Cool shadows deepen
Across the sleeping face:
So fails the summer
With warm delicious breath;
And what hath autumn
To give us in its place?
Draw close the curtains
Of branched evergreen;
Change cannot touch them
With fading fingers sere:
Here first the violets
Perhaps with bud unseen,
And a dove, may be,
Return to nestle here.
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dream-Love
Young Love lies sleeping
In May-time of the year,
Among the lilies,
Lapped in the tender light:
White lambs come grazing,
White doves come building there:
And round about him
The May-bushes are white.
Soft moss the pillow
For oh, a softer cheek;
Broad leaves cast shadow
Upon the heavy eyes:
There winds and waters
Grow lulled and scarcely speak;
There twilight lingers
The longest in the skies.
Young Love lies dreaming;
But who shall tell the dream?
A perfect sunlight
On rustling forest tips;
Or perfect moonlight
Upon a rippling stream;
Or perfect silence,
Or song of cherished lips.
Burn odours round him
To fill the drowsy air;
Weave silent dances
Around him to and fro;
For oh, in waking
The sights are not so fair,
And song and silence
Are not like these below.
Young Love lies dreaming
Till summer days are gone,—
Dreaming and drowsing
Away to perfect sleep:
He sees the beauty
Sun hath not looked upon,
And tastes the fountain
Unutterably deep.
Him perfect music
Doth hush unto his rest,
And through the pauses
The perfect silence calms:
Oh, poor the voices
Of earth from east to west,
And poor earth's stillness
Between her stately palms.
Young Love lies drowsing
Away to poppied death;
Cool shadows deepen
Across the sleeping face:
So fails the summer
With warm, delicious breath;
And what hath autumn
To give us in its place?
Draw close the curtains
Of branched evergreen;
Change cannot touch them
With fading fingers sere:
Here the first violets
Perhaps will bud unseen,
And a dove, may be,
Return to nestle here.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Breakin Up A Happy Home
(dennis lambert & brian potter)
If we fuss and we fight
Why do we have to do it every saturday night?
We can act for our friends
But why cant we face each other when the masquerade ends?
Well now, I dont know whats happening
I cant tell just whos to blame
But two forgiving people
Could be so in love again
Stop! were breakin up a happy home
Oh darlin
Stop! cause I never was much good alone
Sweet baby
Oh, dont turn your back and walk away
Dont do it, no
Stop! were breakin up a happy home, yeah
Its a game no-one wins
Trying to hurt each other with those needles and pins
I cant go back, cant go on
But somehow I know the feeling isnt totally gone
Oh, theres so much love between us
That were so afraid to show
Its been keeping us together
But for how long, I dont know
Stop! yeah, were breakin up a happy home
Oh darlin
Stop! I never was much good alone
Listen baby
Ooh, dont, no, turn your back and walk away
Dont do it, oh stop
Stop! were breakin up a happy home, yeah
Ooh
Stop! stop! dont break it up
Stop! stop! dont break it up
Gotta be another way we can try
Stop! stop! dont break it up
Stop! stop! dont break it up
I dont wanna hear you saying goodbye
Oh baby, sweet baby, ahh, yeah baby, ooh baby
song performed by by Dusty Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I am a farmer
I am a farmer
who are up before first light
and I drink my coffee
between the cows in the stable
where milking machines
are doing their thing sucking
and I pour cream into the black.
A few eggs from my own chickens
and sheep chops from the animals
that grazes right over the farm
is great for breakfast.
Later I walk down to the fields
or ride on Umfaan
my Arabic stallion
to see
if the keepers
are tending the cattle
and where they are grazing.
Sometimes I can stay for hours
in the grassland
and look at the bushes
about me
and the serenity
of it all climbs very deep
down into my heart.
I am as strong as the earth
that I love
and help to hack holes
right through iron stones
with a pickaxe
where the new fence
pole after pole
is beginning to stand.
I am pitched into this Africa
just like this
and have nowhere else
to go to
and my hands are hard as rock
from years of work
and years of resistance
against the sun and weather
and I love my farm
and my country.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lullaby
Should just hug you goodbye
But I just cant walk away from paradise
So I guess Ill sing you that sweet lullaby
And we can revisit us one more time
Yes, Ill come home with you tonight
Hey boy, whats going on
Thanks, Im doing okay
Dont believe rumours- hey
Hows your family
Please say hello for me
Guess weve both grown up a bit
But I have to admit
It really still feels good
Here by your side
Sitting right next to you
Just like I used to do
You know we cant deny
No one else in our lives
Holds a candle to you and i
Should just hug you goodbye
But I just cant walk away from paradise
So I guess Ill sing you that sweet lullaby
And we can revisit us one more time
Yes, Ill come home with you tonight
I should just hug you goodbye
But I just cant walk away from paradise
So I guess Ill sing you that sweet lullaby
And we can revisit us one more time
Yes, Ill come home with you tonight
So here we are again
All by ourselves
So familiar you know
That it actually almost feels like deja vu
Of that night on the roof
We kissed under the sky amid city lights
A sudden flashback to so long ago
In the dark all alone
With our bodies this close
Guess some things never change
cause I still melt away
When you touch me
And say my name
Should just hug you goodbye (baby)
But I just cant walk away from paradise (so I guess)
So I guess Ill sing you that sweet lullaby
(Ill come and love you to sleep)
And we can revisit us one more time
(revisit paradise for a while)
Yes, Ill come home with you tonight (by your side)
(lullaby)
I should just hug you goodbye (see I know I should but boy)
But I just cant walk away from paradise
(you just look so good)
So I guess Ill sing you that sweet lullaby
(so Ill sing that song)
And we can revisit us one more time
(you like to hear me sing as we revisit us)
Yes, Ill come home with you tonight
(it feels, feels good)
I should just hug you goodbye
(I cant walk away
But I just cant walk away from paradise
From paradise so Ill take you home and sing to you baby)
So I guess Ill sing you that sweet lullaby
And we can revisit us one more time
Yes, Ill come home with you tonight
(though I know that I should just)
I should just hug you goodbye
(oh I cant, ...cause you)
But I just cant walk away from paradise
So I guess Ill sing you that sweet lullaby
(you and I both know)
And we can revisit us one more time
(nobody else in our lives holds a candle to you and I)
Yes, Ill come home with you tonight
I should just hug you goodbye shhh!
(so hush pretty baby)
But I just cant walk away from paradise
(mmm,its just me and you yeah, as we relive the splendor of you and I)
So I guess Ill sing you that sweet lullaby
And we can revisit us one more time
Yes, Ill come home with you tonight
(Im gonna sing our sweet lullaby)
song performed by by Mariah Carey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Cottage Home
1.
My home, my home, my cottage home,
Thou fair and lovely spot,
How sad and lonely is my soul,
When I can view thee not;
The vines may blossom in my path,
And flowers I most adore,
But what are all their charm to me,
If not beside my door.
2.
Home is a name ne'er forget,
Like other names of earth;
We never grow old to love
The spot that gave us birth;
And when in dreams of faded years;
Of all our youthful pride,
How sweet to dwell beneath the roof,
Where our dear parents died.
3.
My home, my home, my cottage home,
I'll love thee evermore,
And evry heart that greets me when
I reach thy humble door;
And though my mother's smile be gone;
My mother's watchful care,
I love to dwell beneath the roof,
For home was always there.
poem by Septimus Winner
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Home Again
Where is she going - ooh, she looks like shes lost
Wont someone help her - somebody give her a hand
Shes got such sweet eyes - look like theyve seen too much
Knew someone like here - nobody helped, but shes
Home again...home again...home again
Where are you going - to see a crazy old man
What will he tell you - hell tell me where Im going
What will you do then - I might just quit my job
What will you do then - Im gonna find my way
Home again...home again...home again
(chorus)
(wherere we going, wherere we going, home again,
Were home again, were home)
Where is he going - why does he walk that way
Sticking his chest out - what is he trying to say
Hes got charisma - but when hes all alone
He curls up in a ball - and wishes that he was
Home again...home again...home again
Where are we going - why do we feel so small
Alone and helpless - in this big crazy world
Looking for something - thats so hard to describe
But just like children - going along for the
Ride again...ride again...ride again
(chorus)
Well, aint that something - guess I lost my head
Must have took a wrong turn - when I got outa bed
Ended up on the wrong street - wrong side of town
People here are the wrong type - theyve got me down
Im eating the wrong food - drinkin the wrong wine
Cant hardly see straight - cant walk the line
Shakin all the wrong hands - makin the wrong talk
Steppin on the wrong feet - every time I walk
(chorus)
song performed by by Oingo Boingo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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