Fireflies Of Love
Fireflies of Love.
Summer by the river of temptation,
vinyl records and turntable gramophone
songs about love and longings.
Naive lyric, but for our young hearts it
had a deep meaning.
Passion like fireflies filled the air, the aroma
of grass and the scent of green leaves,
enchantment and adoration.
Nothing is like first love, alas it never lasts
and like fireflies, disappear at first light.
Liver spotted hands turn the pages of memories,
shiny leaves of youth clear as the river and
undimmed by middle-aged cynicism.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Soft Kissing Eureka Moment Days
been writing my fireflies
fireflies always buzz my mind
illuminating my solo nights
soft kissing eureka moment days
shall I share my dear enchantment fireflies
as fireflies dance through my mind
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Love By The River
Love by the River.
I carried the old fashion gramophone,
she carried the records to the river.
We sat and I kissed her while listening
to 1959 records.
Let´s have a dip. Naked we swam in
the moonlit river that cleanses disgust.
Her armpits had the aroma of clover
Started gramophone again, music back
then was so trite, lyrics boring and her
body looked enchanting in moonlight.
I threw the bloody music machine into
the river, she did ditto with the records.
We made love in stillness as trout waked
I regretted not having brought a fishing rod.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Green River Valley
Your face 'tis mirrored in the river-
Along its banks where moss and algae grow-
Shadows of the dark forests unfold slowly-
'Neath the lemon moon- your reflection- simply glows;
Evening has locked its ebony blanket in-
'Cross the rivers green-gardened theme-
Fireflies flutter their brillance and gossemer wings-
While the river unfolds unfathomnable things;
In the valley under the mountains spires-
The zenith touches the skies broken white clouds-
And the fireflies- now even in daylight-
Mirror your reflection- in the river so proud;
Oh such divine whispers you share with me-
Cupping my chin in your most loving of hands-
Moving one in a caressed sweep 'cross my cheek-
Oh 'tis magical-this green gardened river land;
Where love n'er can e'er perish...
As 'tis strong water-'tis strong as death-
Reflections carry on our love song-
That seeps from your fervant and longing breath;
143
poem by Theodora Onken
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Right Across The River Bend
Right across the river bend there’s a warm gentle breeze.
Right across the river-bend are trees with yellow leaves.
Right across the river bend the water reflects the sun.
Right across the river bend is a smell of innocence.
Right across the river bend a robin’s egg is broken.
Right across the river-bend are peaceful mountain valleys.
Right across the river bend a dandelion is carried.
Right across the river bend are fields of shiny green grass.
Right across the riverbend are memories made to last.
poem by Alicia Page
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Spiders And Fireflies
It is July,
Where have all the fireflies gone?
The fireflies from my childhood,
The ones that used to amuse me,
The ones I used to chase,
and capture,
and make my own.
I guess they symbolize the
Innocence from my Childhood,
and I guess,
They have ran off with the
Innocence from my Childhood.
Now I'm overwhelmed with spiders.
Everywhere I turn,
There's another spider at my back.
Where did they come from?
Where did the fields go,
that I once captured fireflies in?
poem by Carey Noelle
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Forests of the Heart
Deep within the forests of the heart,
Resides a town lit by fireflies.
Dwellings built within the trees,
All beneath the starry skies.
Homely lights amongst the foliage,
Bridges and ladders a plenty.
Rustling leaves cure the soul,
As the beams creak gently.
Hark, the herald sparrow sings!
It twitters from Oak's limb.
The river gurgles round the bend,
And along it the fish do swim.
But with the song of the stream,
comes the whisper of the trees.
With the tale of the undergrowth,
Comes the ballad of the breeze.
The moonlight reaches the forest floor,
To show the fairies atop the stools.
With leaves for their rowboats,
They sail across the silver pools.
Deep within the forests of the heart,
Resides a town lit by fireflies.
Dwellings built within the trees,
All beneath the starry skies.
poem by Stephanie Dower
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When Green Leaves Come again
WHEN green leaves come again, my love,
When green leaves come again,--
Why put on such a cloudy face,
When green leaves come again?
'Ah, this spring will be like the last,
Of promise false and vain;
And summer die in winter's arms
Ere green leaves come again.
'So slip the seasons--and our lives;
'T is idle to complain:
But yet I sigh, I scarce know why,
When green leaves come again.'
Nay, lift up thankful eyes, my sweet!
Count equal, lost and gain:
Because, as long as the world lasts,
Green leaves will come again.
For, sure as earth lives under snows,
And Love lives under pain,
'T is good to sing with everything,
'When green leaves come again.'
poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
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Spring For Some
Man in Market Town
It is a big door shiny white and wide, isn't
used much, twice a day when he goes out
shopping and when returning; if anyone
rings the door bell it is usually the gas man.
There are times when he opens the door at
night going to a bar or to buy love bought
and consumed in cheap hotel rooms; a need
that leaves him ashamed and gloomy.
There is a knock on the door of memories, he
gets up look out of the window, it's a brilliant
day and he hears eager steps on pavements,
like someone dancing Argentinean tango.
To be old in November is not so bad, he tells
himself, he can be in and play Elvis's old vinyl
records on his gramophone, but to be seventy
a day in May, man, that makes the soul cry.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Modern Love XXXII (Okie the zen golden retreiver)
Evening star gives eternal kisses of fireflies
to the dark face of the moon
the joyful moon cracks an ocher grin
and falls in love with a reflection
on the green river
the red tails of dancing fireflies
escape from the moon's mouth
into the adoration
Racoons take off their masks
preparing for bed
the river politely refuses
to carry the lunar mirror
leaves it at the waterfall's door
who returns it to the evening star
during the moon's void
a mocking bird awakens the meditating trees
the rocks hidden under the falls miss the sun
the sun's lover lives an hour of light years away
the lunar grin, reflection, evening star
seek hiding places from the dawn
the sudden stillness gives birth
to thousand of mohican souls
who dance in concentric circles
while running down whitmore falls
the evening star ashamed of history
fades into the blue
the moon finds great happiness
in disappearing
the unseen ocean opens arms
and awaits the moon's image
arias of water sing
eternal mantras
where mind's heart dances
joyous silence of a single note
a breath whispering by
between the longing of the ocean
and the moon's love of infinite reflections
and the adoring evening star
an open window creates a wall
of antigue white and mauve moths
as a golden retreiver leaps from a black rock
chasing a teasing blue heron who flies
up over black trees into the bend of the river
creating dawn, as the golden bellyflops laughing
poem by Liberatore Suffoletta
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Fireflies On A Tree
there are no stars tonight
but there are fireflies
teemng the leaves of
this tree
in darkness
o wo wo wo
the fireflies
are mimicking stars
but in inferior flickers
substituting
real twinkles
the tree in the dark
now begins
to look like
the Milky Way Galaxy
and look at you
you are nothing
but an atom
vibrating
making some assurance
that you are still
alive
in this mimicry
of the universe
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sad love song
Bloomed at midnight to the light,
Twinkling as the stars, my fireflies
My hope, I thought it might
Truth I believe-tighten my petals to lies
To your light, I smile,
Gradually, you disappear
Dew touch my leaves, it pile
My leaves close, it fear.
From nowhere, light- brighter and hot came
Awakens and beautified the world
Dew dried up in shame
Your remembarance never shadowed the wall
Petals frustrated,
Leaves grew to changes
Unseen, my life destructed,
Yet, continued life-the damages.
poem by Penky Yumnam
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Autumn's Hint....
the leaves on the tree are whispering...
squirrels panic, and fireflies disappear.
birds prepare their wings for journey,
i sharpen the axe, the woodpile grows.
the fields mourn with stomachs filled.
the chimney moans with an ache.
brandy waits on the shelf in silence.
mason jars filled with beans.
the air pregnant with chill and woodsmoke,
this body ripe with the taste of love.
unmarked graves wait for headstones,
pumpkins wait for the knife.
eyes turn, waiting for the fall...
autumn's hint, rust on my lips!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Autumnal
THE Autumn leaves are dying quietly,
Scarlet and orange, underfoot they lie;
They had their youth and prime
And now's the dying time;
Alas, alas, the young, the beloved, must die!
They are dying like the leaves of Autumn fast,
Scattered and broken, blown on every blast:
The darling young, the brave,
Love had no power to save.
Poor Love-lies-bleeding, Love's in ruins, downcast.
Alas, alas, the Autumn leaves are flying!
They had their Summer and 'tis time for dying.
But these had barely Spring.
Love trails a broken wing,
Walks through deserted woods, moaning and sighing.
poem by Katharine Tynan
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the fireflies of Puerto P.
we take the boat at night
the sea is having its low tide
we are going to the place where the fireflies are mating
we trace the rivers like blood to our veins
the moon has not come at that hour
the trees along the banks are mere shadows
the fireflies are all there
glistening like stars in the heavens
there is so much silence
what we can hear is only the sound of the boat sliding on the river
i've seen for once the magic of their lights
and there i am but a mere shadow against the trees
the journey towards my childhood begins
where Papa trapped all of them inside a jar for us to marvel
how life gives light and how quick shall death take it.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Dead Leaves
When these dead leaves were green, love,
November's skies were blue,
And summer came with lips aflame,
The gentle spring to woo;
And to us, wandering hand in hand,
Life was a fairy scene,
That golden morning in the woods
When these dead leaves were green!
How dream-like now that dewy morn,
Sweet with the wattle's flowers,
When love, love, love was all our theme,
And youth and hope were ours!
Two happier hearts in all the land
There were not then, I ween,
Than those young lovers' -- yours and mine --
When these dead leaves were green.
How gaily did you pluck these leaves
From the acacia's bough,
To mark the lyric we had read --
I can repeat it now!
While came the words, like music sweet,
Your smiling lips between --
"So fold my love within your heart,"
When these dead leaves were green!
How many springs have passed since then?
Ah, wherefore should we count,
The years that sped, like waters fled
From Time's unstaying fount?
We've had our share of happiness,
Our share of care have seen;
But love alone has never flown
Since these dead leaves were green.
Your heart is kind and loving still,
Your face to me as fair,
As when, that morn, the sunshine played
Amid your golden hair.
So, dearest, sweethearts still we'll be,
As we have ever been,
And keep our love as fresh and true
As when these leaves were green.
poem by Edward Booth Loughran
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Dancing To The Music Of Fireflies
Sound of gravel crunching
On a lonely country lane
Then parking neath an ol' Oak Tree
Radio softly playing
An ol' George Jones song
Of broken hearts and misery
The hypnotic rise,
before one's eyes
That only fireflies can bring
The swirling sigh
of hormone's tide
The intoxicating smell of spring
The night slips by
The moon hangs high
honey locust blossoms scent the air
My hands cradle your head
I bury my face
in the musky perfume of your hair
Your lips to mine
Our legs and arms entwined
Our bodies start to sway
And we slow dance…
To the music of fireflies
…Until the light of day…
poem by David Whalen
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Green River
Take me back to the Green River
Let my troubles roll on down
Take me when the leaves are falling
That's when my baby's love was still around
My memories take me to the Green River
How plain was the picture in my mind
Autumn leaves were paint in the water
Love was shining in your eyes
How I long for us to return
To the love we had back then
Darling, I'll be waiting a lifetime
For you to take me back again
How I miss the sound of the water
Gently flowing past the trees
How I miss your tender kisses
The way you once loved me
song performed by by Dixie Chicks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What The Fireflies Must Mean
according to Urias
the fireflies
are the ideas that we let
go on a dark night
and they fly
and we do not
catch them
they must go
searching
for other fireflies
their own kind
of flashes
and blinkings
we are here
watching them
in amazement
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Life Of A Firefly
cool, quick
rolling, streaming past
bright and sombre
the last of the fireflies
soft, pink hand
cup around
capture contain
the last of the fireflies
poem by Adelaida Castillo
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Searching...
The darkness of my existance is blinding,
In the distance fireflies dance amidst the dark,
A flickering light in the bleakness of the abyss,
Lighting up the nothing that I have become,
Yet they are not fireflies but the lanterns of others,
They light up the blackness of my horizon,
Calling to me through the darkness,
When shall the lantern I seek set aflame my heart?
I know not what I seek for I am empty,
I have traveled decades throughout this life,
Searching for something others seem to find so easily,
Searching... Yet finding nothing...
Spread the love... The peace will follow...
poem by Cosmic Dreamer
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