A Roadway
Let those who will stride on their barren roads
And prick themselves to haste with self-made goads,
Unheeding, as they struggle day by day,
If flowers be sweet or skies be blue or gray:
For me, the lone, cool way by purling brooks,
The solemn quiet of the woodland nooks,
A song-bird somewhere trilling sadly gay,
A pause to pick a flower beside the way.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Blue Skies Bring Tears
Unleash the armageddon
So all the children go to heaven
I sit by quiet still
With their pictures on my eyes
You'll draw the guns your given
Write down the words as written
And never disturb the presense
Of resurrection touch
And it's about time
It's about drawing near
Blue skies bring tears
Blue skies bring tears
Blue skies bring tears
Descend the darkened stairway
Make hate with plastic playmates
And fire out remaining traces
Of your self esteem
Mainline the deepest secrets
Lick clean the dirty fingers
I am a stranger to you
As you are to yourself
And it's about time
It's about fear
Blue skies bring tears
Don't you want me (don't want you)
Cause I await cityside
We'll watch the seas start to die
Blue skies bring tears
Take me inside your body
Blue skies bring tears
Cover me with your soul
Blue skies bring tears
To the darkest reasons
Blue skies bring tears
Is where I wish to go
Blue skies bring tears
You are the sweetest flower
Blue skies bring tears
That I have ever devoured
Blue skies bring tears
I ask for nothing given
Blue skies bring tears
For nothing in return
Blue skies bring tears
Blue skies bring tears
Blue skies bring tears
Blue skies bring tears
Blue skies bring tears
Blue skies bring tears
Blue skies bring tears
Blue skies bring tears
Blue skies bring tears
Blue skies bring tears
Blue skies bring tears
Blue skies bring tears
Blue skies bring tears
Blue skies bring tears
Blue skies bring tears
Blue skies bring tears
song performed by by Smashing Pumpkins from Machina: The Machines Of God
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Song In The Dell
I KNOW a way
Of hearing what the larks and linnets say:
The larks tell of the sunshine and the sky;
The linnets from the hedges make reply,
And boast of hidden nests with mocking lay.
I know a way
Of keeping near the rabbits at their play:
They tell me of the cool and shady nooks
Where waterfalls disturb the placid brooks
That I may go and frolic in the spray.
I know a way
Of catching dewdrops on a night in May,
And threading them upon a spear of green,
That through their sides translucent may be seen
The sparkling hue that emeralds display.
I know a way
Of trapping sunbeams as they nimbly play
At hide-and-seek with meadow-grass and flowers,
And holding them in store for dreary hours
When winds are chill and all the sky is gray.
I know a way
Of stealing fragrance from the new-mown hay
And storing it in flasks of petals made,
To scent the air when all the flowers fade
And leave the woodland world to sad decay.
I know a way
Of coaxing snowflakes in their flight to stay
So still awhile, that, as they hang in air,
I weave them into frosty lace, to wear
About my head upon a sultry day.
poem by Charles Edward Carryl
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sweet Home Alabama
Big wheels keep on turning
Carry me home to see my kin
Singing songs about the Southland
I miss Alabamy once again
And I think its a sin, yes
Well I heard mister Young sing about her
Well, I heard ole Neil put her down
Well, I hope Neil Young will remember
A Southern man don't need him around anyhow
Sweet home Alabama
Where the skies are so blue
Sweet Home Alabama
Lord, I'm coming home to you
In Birmingham they love the gov' nor
Now we all did what we could do
Now Watergate does not bother me
Does your conscience bother you?
Tell the truth
Sweet home Alabama
Where the skies are so blue
Sweet Home Alabama
Lord, I'm coming home to you
Here I come Alabama
Now Muscle Shoals has got the Swampers
And they've been known to pick a song or two
Lord they get me off so much
They pick me up when I'm feeling blue
Now how about you?
Sweet home Alabama
Where the skies are so blue
Sweet Home Alabama
Lord, I'm coming home to you
Sweet home Alabama
Oh sweet home baby
Where the skies are so blue
And the guv'nor's true
Sweet Home Alabama
Lord, I'm coming home to you
song performed by by Jewel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blue Skies
I was blue, just as blue as I could be
Evry day was a cloudy day for me
Then good luck came a-knocking at my door
Skies were gray but theyre not gray anymore
Blue skies
Smiling at me
Nothing but blue skies
Do I see
Bluebirds
Singing a song
Nothing but bluebirds
All day long
Never saw the sun shining so bright
Never saw things going so right
Noticing the days hurrying by
When youre in love, my how they fly
Blue days
All of them gone
Nothing but blue skies
From now on
[2]
I should care if the wind blows east or west
I should fret if the worst looks like the best
I should mind if they say it cant be true
I should smile, thats exactly what I do
song performed by by Irving Berlin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sweeet Home Alabama
Big wheels keep on turning
Carry me home to see my kin
Singing songs about the Southland
I miss Alabamy once again
And I think its a sin, yes
Well I heard mister Young sing about her
Well, I heard ole Neil put her down
Well, I hope Neil Young will remember
A Southern man don't need him around anyhow
Sweet home Alabama
Where the skies are so blue
Sweet Home Alabama
Lord, I'm coming home to you
In Birmingham they love the governor
Now we all did what we could do
Now Watergate does not bother me
Does your conscience bother you?
Tell the truth
Sweet home Alabama
Where the skies are so blue
Sweet Home Alabama
Lord, I'm coming home to you
Here I come Alabama
Now Muscle Shoals has got the Swampers
And they've been known to pick a song or two
Lord they get me off so much
They pick me up when I'm feeling blue
Now how about you?
Sweet home Alabama
Where the skies are so blue
Sweet Home Alabama
Lord, I'm coming home to you
Sweet home Alabama
Oh sweet home baby
Where the skies are so blue
And the governor's true
Sweet Home Alabama
Lordy Lord, I'm coming home to you
Yea, yea Montgomery's got the answer
song performed by by Lynyrd Skynyrd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sweet Home Alabama
(ed king - ronnie vanzant - gary rossington)
Big wheels keep on turning
Carry me home to see my kin
Singing songs about the southland
I miss alabamy once again
And I think its a sin, yes
Well I heard mister young sing about her
Well, I heard ole neil put her down
Well, I hope neil young will remember
A southern man dont need him around anyhow
Sweet home alabama
Where the skies are so blue
Sweet home alabama
Lord, Im coming home to you
In birmingham they love the governor
Now we all did what we could do
Now watergate does not bother me
Does your conscience bother you?
Tell the truth
Sweet home alabama
Where the skies are so blue
Sweet home alabama
Lord, Im coming home to you
Here I come alabama
Now muscle shoals has got the swampers
And theyve been known to pick a song or two
Lord they get me off so much
They pick me up when Im feeling blue
Now how about you?
Sweet home alabama
Where the skies are so blue
Sweet home alabama
Lord, Im coming home to you
Sweet home alabama
Oh sweet home baby
Where the skies are so blue
And the governors true
Sweet home alabama
Lordy
Lord, Im coming home to you
Yea, yea montgomerys got the answer
song performed by by Lynyrd Skynyrd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sweet Home Alabama
(ed king - ronnie vanzant - gary rossington)
Big wheels keep on turning
Carry me home to see my kin
Singing songs about the southland
I miss alabamy once again
And I think its a sin, yes
Well I heard mister young sing about her
Well, I heard ole neil put her down
Well, I hope neil young will remember
A southern man dont need him around anyhow
Sweet home alabama
Where the skies are so blue
Sweet home alabama
Lord, Im coming home to you
In birmingham they love the governor
Now we all did what we could do
Now watergate does not bother me
Does your conscience bother you?
Tell the truth
Sweet home alabama
Where the skies are so blue
Sweet home alabama
Lord, Im coming home to you
Here I come alabama
Now muscle shoals has got the swampers
And theyve been known to pick a song or two
Lord they get me off so much
They pick me up when Im feeling blue
Now how about you?
Sweet home alabama
Where the skies are so blue
Sweet home alabama
Lord, Im coming home to you
Sweet home alabama
Oh sweet home baby
Where the skies are so blue
And the governors true
Sweet home alabama
Lordy
Lord, Im coming home to you
Yea, yea montgomerys got the answer
song performed by by Lynyrd Skynyrd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nectar Sweet
My humming bird heart
beats for you
faster still with you in sight;
but you my flower
elude me.
I flutter
mid-air in flight
above other flowers
but no nectar drips from my beak's visit;
no matter how far I plunge
toward some flower's-center
it's not yours, and I retreat.
I pause,
flutter away
without that sweet juice of yours
I crave.
Possessing it is my Obsessions' Obsession.
Nothing deters my eye
from my flower-mission;
neither cat
nor rival bird
challenge me
when they espy my determined ire,
as I put my sharpened beak on display,
exhibiting to them my humming bird speed
and my reckless need.
No, they shrink
away
with second thoughts
and leave me to my nectar quest.
Some flowers are beautiful,
but none so beautiful as yours;
this is set in me for all time-
even if I,
nectarless,
become weak and falter-
no longer able to fly
and plunge spiraling to the ground;
I will have you my sweet
or no nectar at all.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To the Fringed Gentian
Thou blossom bright with autumn dew,
And colored with the heaven's own blue,
That openest when the quiet light
Succeeds the keen and frosty night.
Thou comest not when violets lean
O'er wandering brooks and springs unseen,
Or columbines, in purple dressed,
Nod o'er the ground-bird's hidden nest.
Thou waitest late and com'st alone,
When woods are bare and birds are flown,
And frosts and shortening days portend
The aged year is near his end.
Then doth thy sweet and quiet eye
Look through its fringes to the sky,
Blue--blue--as if that sky let fall
A flower from its cerulean wall.
I would that thus, when I shall see
The hour of death draw near to me,
Hope, blossoming within my heart,
May look to heaven as I depart.
poem by William Cullen Bryant
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Sweet Home Alabama
(Original by Lynyrd Skynard)
Big wheels keep on turning carry me home to see my kin
Singing songs about the southland
I miss my family once again and I think it's a sin
Well I heard Mr. Young sing about her
Well I heard Ol' Neil put her down
Well I hope Neil Young will remember
A Southern man don't need him around anyhow
CHORUS:
Sweet home Alabama where the skies are so blue
Sweet home Alabama Lord I'm coming home to you
In Birmingham they love the governor boo-hoo-hoo
Now we all did what we could do
Now Watergate does not bother me
Does your conscience bother you tell me true
CHORUS:
Here I come Alabama
SOLO
Now Muscle Shoals has got the swampers, they've been known to pick a song or two
Lord they get me off so much
They pick me up when I'm feelin' blue
Now how about you
CHORUS:
Sweet home Alabama where the skies are so blue oh sweet home
Sweet home Alabama Lord I'm coming home to you And the gov'nor's true
Sweet home Alabama where the skies are so blue oh yeah
Sweet home Alabama Lord I'm coming home to you yeah yeah
song performed by by Counting Crows
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When I was a Bird
I climbed up the karaka tree
Into a nest all made of leaves
But soft as feathers.
I made up a song that went on singing all by itself
And hadn't any words, but got sad at the end.
There were daisies in the grass under the tree.
I said just to try them:
"I'll bite off your heads and give them to my little
children to eat."
But they didn't believe I was a bird;
They stayed quite open.
The sky was like a blue nest with white feathers
And the sun was the mother bird keeping it warm.
That's what my song said: though it hadn't any words.
Little Brother came up the patch, wheeling his barrow.
I made my dress into wings and kept very quiet.
Then when he was quite near I said: "Sweet, sweet!"
For a moment he looked quite startled;
Then he said: "Pooh, you're not a bird; I can see
your legs."
But the daisies didn't really matter,
And Little Brother didn't really matter;
I felt just like a bird.
poem by Katherine Mansfield
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Within The April Woodland Grow
Within the April woodland grow
The bluebells of the dawning spring,
A sea of blue like waves that flow
Upon the breeze they softly sing.
As now the boughs begin to leaf
The sun does shine with gentle beam,
To light the flowers there beneath
And glisten on the restful stream.
That through the woodland winds its way
And follows me where'er I tread,
For love has come to me this day
As to this land I now am wed.
My heart is filled with gladdened cheer
To see the sight and hear the sound,
To me the greatest time of year
When they adorn the barren ground.
Each one to me a lover's kiss
Upon my lips that waited long,
For now I feel a sense of bliss
That lifts me like the throstle's song.
Within the April woodland grow
The bluebells of the dawning spring,
A sea of blue like waves that flow
Unto the shore they softly sing.
poem by Andrew Blakemore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Two Songs
A BEE that was searching for sweets one day
Through the gate of a rose garden happened to stray.
In the heart of a rose he hid away,
And forgot in his bliss the light of day,
As sipping his honey he buzzed in song;
Though day was waning, he lingered long,
For the rose was sweet, so sweet.
A robin sits pluming his ruddy breast,
And a madrigal sings to his love in her nest:
'Oh, the skies they are blue, the fields are green,
And the birds in your nest will soon be seen!'
She hangs on his words with a thrill of love,
And chirps to him as he sits above,
For the song is sweet, so sweet.
A maiden was out on a summer's day
With the winds and the waves and the flowers at play;
And she met with a youth of gentle air,
With the light of the sunshine on his hair.
Together they wandered the flowers among;
They loved, and loving they lingered long,
For to love is sweet, so sweet.
BIRD of my lady's bower,
Sing her a song;
Tell her that every hour,
All the day long,
Thoughts of her come to me,
Filling my brain
With the warm ecstasy
Of love's refrain.
Little bird! happy bird!
Being so near,
Where e'en her slightest word
Thou mayest hear,
Seeing her glancing eyes,
Sheen of her hair,
Thou art in paradise, —
Would I were there.
I am so far away,
Thou art so near;
Plead with her, birdling gay,
Plead with my dear.
Rich be thy recompense,
Fine be thy fee,
If through thine eloquence
She hearken me.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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She Is fir MY Lady Irene
My lady strolls to take the air.
The flowers bow as she goes by,
because they know they can’t compare
with my lady, so they don’t try.
The song birds sing my lady’s praise,
sweet music to my lady’s taste.
Here as she walks the woodland ways
They flock to sing to her; in haste
Where e’re she walks a cool breeze blows
plays with the glory of her hair.
It is as if all nature knows
my lady’s more than passing fair
She walks in beauty naturally.
she is as she was meant to be.
01/04/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Roads
I know a country laced with roads,
They join the hills and they span the brooks,
They weave like a shuttle between broad fields,
And slide discreetly through hidden nooks.
They are canopied like a Persian dome
And carpeted with orient dyes.
They are myriad-voiced, and musical,
And scented with happiest memories.
O Winding roads that I know so well,
Every twist and turn, every hollow and hill!
They are set in my heart to a pulsing tune
Gay as a honey-bee humming in June.
'T is the rhythmic beat of a horse's feet
And the pattering paws of a sheep-dog bitch;
'T is the creaking trees, and the singing breeze,
And the rustle of leaves in the road-side ditch.
A cow in a meadow shakes her bell
And the notes cut sharp through the autumn air,
Each chattering brook bears a fleet of leaves
Their cargo the rainbow, and just now where
The sun splashed bright on the road ahead
A startled rabbit quivered and fled.
O Uphill roads and roads that dip down!
You curl your sun-spattered length along,
And your march is beaten into a song
By the softly ringing hoofs of a horse
And the panting breath of the dogs I love.
The pageant of Autumn follows its course
And the blue sky of Autumn laughs above.
And the song and the country become as one,
I see it as music, I hear it as light;
Prismatic and shimmering, trembling to tone,
The land of desire, my soul's delight.
And always it beats in my listening ears
With the gentle thud of a horse's stride,
With the swift-falling steps of many dogs,
Following, following at my side.
O Roads that journey to fairyland!
Radiant highways whose vistas gleam,
Leading me on, under crimson leaves,
To the opaline gates of the Castles of Dream.
poem by Amy Lowell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lone Yellow Flower Waves In The Open Fields
lone yellow flower
waves in the open fields
bowing according to the tune
among the sea of green;
lone yellow flower has no one to blame
and it seeks none to praise
for it knows all life comes in
when the conditions are right;
lone yellow flower knows
death comes in like the wind;
lone yellow flower
is never alone
for it is a part of the expression
of the earth and time and the universe;
lone yellow flower sees what is before and around
lone yellow flower observes what is within and about
and so lone yellow flower lives with no delusions
no beliefs of heaven and hell
fears none and does not live or die
to please or amuse or appease;
and lone yellow flower
blossoms and shines
and shrivels and ceases
in harmony
with what actually is;
lone yellow flower
waves in the open fields
bowing according to the tune
among the sea of green
poem by Raj Arumugam
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Nightingale To The Workman
Fair summer is here, glad summer is here!
O hark! 'tis to you I am singing:
The sun is all gold in a heaven of blue,
The birds in the forest are trilling for you,
The flies 'mid the grasses are winging;
The little brook babbles--its secret is sweet.
The loveliest flowers would circle your feet,--
And you to your work ever clinging!...
Come forth! Nature loves you. Come forth! Do not fear!
Fair summer is here, glad summer is here,
Full measure of happiness bringing.
All creatures drink deep; and they pour wine anew
In the old cup of life, and they wonder at you.
Your portion is waiting since summer began;
Then take it, oh, take it, you laboring man!
'Tis summer today; ay, summer today!
The butterflies light on the flowers.
Delightfully glistens the silvery rain,
The mountains are covered with greenness again,
And perfumed and cool are the bowers.
The sheep frisk about in the flowery vale,
The shepherd and shepherdess pause in the dale,
And these are the holiest hours!...
Delay not, delay not, life passes away!
'Tis summer today, sweet summer today!
Come, throttle your wheel's grinding power!...
Your worktime is bitter and endless in length;
And have you not foolishly lavished your strength?
O think not the world is with bitterness rife,
But drink of the wine from the goblet of life.
O, summer is here, sweet summer is here!
I cannot forever be trilling;
I flee on the morrow. Then, you, have a care!
The crow, from the perch I am leaving, the air
With ominous cries will be filling.
O, while I am singing to you from my tree
Of love, and of life, and of joy yet to be,
Arouse you!--O why so unwilling!...
The heavens remain not so blue and so clear;--
Now summer is here! Come, summer is here!
Reach out for the joys that are thrilling!
For like you who fade at your wheel, day by day,
Soon all things will fade and be carried away.
Our lives are but moments; and sometimes the cost
Of a moment o'erlooked is eternity lost.
poem by Morris Rosenfeld
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Song
There is ever a song somewhere, my dear;
There is ever a something sings alway:
There's the song of the lark when the skies are clear,
And the song of the thrush when the skies are gray.
The sunshine showers across the grain,
And the bluebird trills in the orchard tree;
And in and out, when the eaves dip rain,
The swallows are twittering ceaselessly.
There is ever a song somewhere, my dear,
Be the skies above or dark or fair,
There is ever a song that our hearts may hear--
There is ever a song somewhere, my dear
There is ever a song somewhere!
There is ever a song somewhere, my dear,
In the midnight black, or the mid-day blue:
The robin pipes when the sun is here,
And the cricket chirrups the whole night through.
The buds may blow, and the fruit may grow,
And the autumn leaves drop crisp and sear;
But whether the sun, or the rain, or the snow,
There is ever a song somewhere, my dear.
There is ever a song somewhere, my dear,
Be the skies above or dark or fair,
There is ever a song that our hearts may hear--
There is ever a song somewhere, my dear--
There is ever a song somewhere!
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Bird and flower upon the tree
A bird and flower upon the tree,
Sweet peony and oriole,
Each of them a perfect soul,
Song and sweetness manifest
The bird and flower we love the best
Side by side on the tall tree.
'Flower who art sunlight and fire, flower who art perfume and joy,
Sweetest of sweet,
Ah for the gift withheld!
Ah for the given gift's alloy!
Why must thy spirit exhale only in beauty and breath?
Ah for the voice thou hast not! I by thy side on the tree,
Telling the world of love, pain, and all raptures that be,
Raptures of laughter and life, raptures of tears and death,
Singing my heart to heaven, singing to earth at my feet;
Silence in thee.'
'Bird who art dew-drops and flame, bird who art rapture and song,
Sweetest of sweet,
Lo there's a voice part mine, songs that to me too belong,
Songs that grew of my growth, voice that has breathed my breath.
Bird that while I sit mute singest beside on the tree,
Hast thou ever a song taking no perfume of me?
Give forth my sweetness in song; bird, thou art singing for both,
Singing our hearts to heaven, singing to earth at our feet;
My voice in thee.'
On the tree-top side by side,
Sweet oriole and peony;
Music rings through earth and sky,
Sweet and sweet in sweetness lost
The flower and bird we love the most,
On the tree-top side by side.
poem by Augusta Davies Webster
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Butterflies, Flowers, Romance
Multicolored monarch fly,
Flower to flower vie,
Tipples nectar,
While I play guitar
Flowers everyday,
For a buxom young lady,
You and I ready,
For a lusty romance
Kisses cheek to cheek,
The dame and I at the peak,
To pick on, pick
Yellow red daisies n’ garden
Flowers I seek,
Roses and candle stick,
Athirst to smooch and flick,
For sweet red lips
Flowers n’ tears, monarch departs,
You and I aren’t apart,
For true love had start,
Promises not to part
poem by Noel Horlanda
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