My Grandpa Orange Garden
From my grandpa Orange Garden
You can saw green orange leaf
all over the place
it fruits had started ripening
He frequently late going home
My grandma hit “Kentongan ”)
For going home soonly
But my grandpa workinghard
Forgotten to eat and drink, and going home
When he going home he saw the roof falling down
And black cloud seen in the sky
Quickly my grandfather took the ladder
Up to the roof and care the roof
For bettering their room
The rain fall from the sky
My grandpa walking down from teh roof
sleppy, and never wake up again
my grandma cried till morning
forgotten the orange fruit harvest
she embrace her husband slept strectched on the ground
in the meeting room
where children and grandchildren are gathering
to day you couldn’t seen the green leaf orange
the fresh orange leave the smeel in my reminiscences
the garden leave high and dry
no grandpa touch down at
the leafs through,
it stalks to let dryness
dryness and to wither
the dush fly everywhere
the house and garden is empty
only ghosts dwell in that house
I still remember
I fomerly run there
Among the orange stem trees
Under the orange leaf shady
His Only one message:
Don’t pick those oranges before ripe
Jakarta,6/29/2005
poem by Prasetya Utama
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Orange Leaf
Orange leaf passing by
The air is stiff
And cold
Orange leaf passing by
Flying over the snow
Orange leaf passing by
Riding over the snow.
Past the oak tree
The old house is silent
Orange leaf
Fly with the wind
And snow
Fly past the frozen lake
Fish sleeping beneath
Its crystal surface
Orange leaf
fly to the sea
And wait
To be picked up
And carried off
Orange leaf passing by
The air is stiff
And cold
Orange leaf passing by
Flying over the snow
poem by Jesse love
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Silver
Nirvana- Silver
Mom and dad went to a show
They dropped me off at Grandpa Joe's
I kicked and screamed, said please don't go
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Had to eat my dinner there
Mashed potatoes and stuff like that
I couldn't chew my meats too good
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
She said, well, don't you start your crying
Go outside and ride your bike
That's what I did, I killed my toe
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
After dinner, I had ice cream
I fell asleep and watched TV
I woke up in my mother's arms
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
I wanna be alone
song performed by by Nirvana
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Prince Of Orange
Look at these hands
Spokes of the sun God delay you, spray you
Prince of orange, climb the ladder
Prince of orange will die.
Brass robinettes
Trumpet and drums for the taking, baking
Prince of orange, climb the ladder
Prince of orange will die.
All the food he steals is all right
Far the tall and gentle poplar
Causing fanfare to those listening
Now
Drape round your head
Mischief and secrets in green kelt, all hell
Prince of orange, climb the ladder
Prince of orange will die.
Look at these lands (--- --- ---)
Youll get no books for your dinner
Sinner
Prince of orange, climb the ladder
Prince of orange will die
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Red And Orange
Ther's a red house,
Inside there's an orange door.
Beside that there's a red carpet,
On top of an orange floor.
There's a red table,
Below an orange ceiling.
Upstairs there's a red bed,
Inside an orange room.
There's a couple of red people sleeping soundly,
Next door two orange ones too.
Outside there's a red truck,
No one knows what to do.
I don't see the proble,
Why don't you leave us all alone.
But now I see the red more clearly,
And I know what's done is done.
And I'll float away with the cloudy smoke,
Before the inevertable happens and I start to choke.
Good bye red house,
So long orange door.
I'm going for a long sleep noe,
Six feet under the floor.
Fly home
Fly home there will be shine
with bright orange light
Fly home there will be sweet
with bright orange light
Fly home there will be caring
with bright orange light
Fly home there will be lovely
with bright orange light
Fly home there will be comfort
with bright orange light
Fly home there will be fortune
with bright orange light
Fly home there will be future
with bright orange light
Fly home Fly home to your nest
with bright orange light
poem by See Fee Lee
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Orange And Green Will Carry The Day
Ireland! rejoice, and England! deplore
Faction and feud are passing away.
'Twas a low voice, but 'tis a loud roar,
'Orange and Green will carry the day.'
Orange! Orange!
Green and Orange!
Pitted together in many a fray
Lions in fight!
And linked in their might,
Orange and Green will carry the day.
Orange! Orange!
Green and Orange!
Wave them together o'er mountain and bay.
Orange and Green!
Our King and our Queen!
'Orange and Green will carry the day!'
Rusty the swords our fathers unsheathed
William and James are turned to clay
Long did we till the wrath they bequeathed,
Red was the crop, and bitter the pay!
Freedom fled us!
Knaves misled us!
Under the feet of the foemen we lay
Riches and strength
We'll win them at length,
For Orange and Green will carry the day!
Landlords fooled us;
England ruled us,
Hounding our passions to make us their prey;
But, in their spite,
The Irish UNITE,
And Orange and Green will carry the day!
Fruitful our soil where honest men starve;
Empty the mart, and shipless the bay;
Out of our want the Oligarchs carve;
Foreigners fatten on our decay!
Disunited,
Therefore blighted,
Ruined and rent by the Englishman's sway;
Party and creed
For once have agreed
Orange and Green will carry the day!
Boyne's old water,
Red with slaughter!
Now is as pure as an infant at play;
So, in our souls,
Its history rolls,
And Orange and Green will carry the day!
English deceit can rule us no more;
Bigots and knaves are scattered like spray
Deep was the oath the Orangeman swore,
'Orange and Green must carry the day!'
Orange! Orange!
Bless the Orange!
Tories and Whigs grew pale with dismay,
When from the North
Burst the cry forth,
'Orange and Green will carry the day!'
No surrender!
No Pretender!
Never to falter and never betray
With an Amen,
We swear it again,
ORANGE AND GREEN SHALL CARRY THE DAY.
poem by Thomas Davis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Orange And Green Will Carry The Day
AIR--_The Protestant Boys._
I.
Ireland! rejoice, and England! deplore--
Faction and feud are passing away.
'Twas a low voice, but 'tis a loud roar,
'Orange and Green will carry the day.'
Orange! Orange!
Green and Orange!
Pitted together in many a fray--
Lions in fight!
And linked in their might,
Orange and Green will carry the day.
Orange! Orange!
Green and Orange!
Wave them together o'er mountain and bay.
Orange and Green!
Our King and our Queen!
'Orange and Green will carry the day!'
II.
Rusty the swords our fathers unsheathed--
William and James are turned to clay--
Long did we till the wrath they bequeathed,
Red was the crop, and bitter the pay!
Freedom fled us!
Knaves misled us!
Under the feet of the foemen we lay--
Riches and strength
We'll win them at length,
For Orange and Green will carry the day!
Landlords fooled us;
England ruled us,
Hounding our passions to make us their prey;
But, in their spite,
The Irish UNITE,
And Orange and Green will carry the day!
III.
Fruitful our soil where honest men starve;
Empty the mart, and shipless the bay;
Out of our want the Oligarchs carve;
Foreigners fatten on our decay!
Disunited,
Therefore blighted,
Ruined and rent by the Englishman's sway;
Party and creed
For once have agreed--
Orange and Green will carry the day!
Boyne's old water,
Red with slaughter!
Now is as pure as an infant at play;
So, in our souls,
Its history rolls,
And Orange and Green will carry the day!
IV.
English deceit can rule us no more;
Bigots and knaves are scattered like spray--
Deep was the oath the Orangeman swore,
'Orange and Green must carry the day!'
Orange! Orange!
Bless the Orange!
Tories and Whigs grew pale with dismay,
When from the North
Burst the cry forth,
'Orange and Green will carry the day!'
No surrender!
No Pretender!
Never to falter and never betray--
With an Amen,
We swear it again,
ORANGE AND GREEN SHALL CARRY THE DAY.
poem by Thomas Osborne Davis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I remember we were all horrified to see Grandpa up on the roof with his Superman cape on. 'Get down' yelled Uncle Lou. 'Don't move' screamed Grandma. But Grandpa wouldn't listen. He walked to the edge of the roof and stuck out his arms, like he was going to fly. I forget what happened after that.
Jack Handey in Deep Thoughts
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Green Sour Orange....
first i get an orange
a green orange, the young one
sour, but still
citrus, not pungent
but inviting, not a cure for the
wound, not easing,
it penetrates pain and
makes it more painful,
then i cut the orange,
press it
and press it some more
to get all its juices....
i do not drink it
i leave it in the glass
for all those dark nights
till every juice dries,
till what you see and feel
is the same
emptiness....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Orange juice
Orange juice mom says drink
When i am sick
It can make me thick
Orange juice i have to pick
licking mom says no
Drinking i have to do
Hate orange juice, mom says i know
Vitamin C it has
And i need to take
for my own sake
Healthy it can make me
Power it can give me
Orange juice
Is all i need
When i am in lead
With the kids at the lake.! :)
poem by michelle al G
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If I Had a Paintbrush
If I had a paintbrush, I'd paint my world orange.
Orange for the Destruction and Purity of Fire;
For the Power of the Sun;
For the Patience and Innocence of a Child;
For the careful Balance between the Material and Spiritual;
For the Happiness and Goodness in the World;
For Light and the Truth.
Orange for Life.
And among all the millions of shades of orange,
I would paint a splash of light green.
Green for Hope.
poem by Zoe Guillory
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An Orange Cat With One Eye
a one-eyed orange cat
(not really a kitten anymore)
likes me so much
that every morning the moment
i open my door
leading to a stone garden
it always comes to me
singing like a bird
as though saying
good morning master
it rubs his orange body
beside my leg and it feels
so smooth
like fine silk to my
hard skin
i feel the guilt of humanity
who the hell
removed its right eye
where did this one-eyed orange
cat come from?
God-given
must be.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ode To Orange Chgicken
Orange chicken, oh orange chicken,
how much I love you.
You're sweet, sticky, and tangy, all at the same time,
you go great wi th soy sauce, but never with lime.
ode to orange chicken, which I love to devour,
it's been in my mouth so often, it knows that i have power.
It knows the names of my taste buds, Jill, Lil, and Bill,
sometimes the orange chicken is happy, but sometimes it's held against it's will.
Whenever I eat orange chicken, it goes CRUNCH, CRUNCH,
and I have to have chow mein, and that goes MUCH, MUNCH!
Ode to orange chicken, it is always in a bowl,
but did I mention, i also love eggrolls.
poem by Aubrey Harmel
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Like A Leaf
i will pass this world
like a blown leaf
to the north by the south winds
there will be abrupt changes
just the ripening of the life
of a leaf
from green to yellow
to orange and then to gray
to dryness crumpling
into dust
who will not be dust?
we all are
but all of you are leaving traces
like a footstep
a child a parcel of land
a will
how can i make some traces
on the path of the
wind?
there shall be none
for a whisper has no bars to hold on
a sound has no box to stay
a spoken word
has no room for sleeping.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Fish Pound and Violin
My grandpa stay in the house
Near the river
Where its water flow end in the South Ocean
His garden hedged with Bamboo trees
In front of the garden planted three tuft trees
The children like to climb the tuft tree
Pick up the fruits and eat on the tree
Glad and laughing
My grandpa was silent and said nothing
He just smile subtly, and gaze at far away
There is a fish pond in the backyard,
In its edge planted pineapple and banana trees
My grandma always give brand and papaya leaf to the pound
Giving food for the fish like Gurame, Sepat dan Nila,
While my grandpa make a biola, gitar and bass
In the litlle studio, near the kitchen
I passionatedly gaze the fish jump around
And glad
While they don’t know their destiny
Decided by mothers in the cities
On the frying pan, roastibng, caserate,
With imagine to ecpanced their plan on the rice filed
Near the road forgeted how farmer produce,
Fish, rice and vegetable,
And actually
Their Self conscience.
poem by Prasetya Utama
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Thankless Scions
Grandma was in isolation
She was in an isle of distress
The children whom she fed
With the blood turned milk
In her breasts
Have all flown and vanished
And she left abandoned
With the linings all over
In mind and skin
Heralding the arrival
Of the frail old December
Of the life, the end of the span!
The marvelous culture
Of a house- hold adorned
With grandma and grandpa
With children and grand children
Went into oblivion!
The grandma and grandpa
Is a hindrance to their children
Is a bad omen to scions
And an inconvenience
To the young and dynamic!
Grandma and grandpa
Are ignored and caged
As of a dog or parrot
And fed like a slave
Tied to a pole in chains!
The thankless sons and daughters
Never care the sufferings
And sacrifices of Ma and Papa
And they want to be alone
As being youthful in spirit
And are eager to enjoy
The spring of life
Where they hate the face of autumn!
Grandma, Grandpa, Ma and Papa
Are omen of autumn
That they never wish to sight!
The young whose blood
Rushes with the fuel of Ma's milk
Forget that the green leaves
Will turn yellow
And wither away
And an autumn is is hibernation
To embrace them tomorrow!
poem by Vadakkumpurath Ramesan
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To His Coy One
SEEST thou yon smiling Orange?
Upon the tree still hangs it;
Already March bath vanish'd,
And new-born flow'rs are shooting.
I draw nigh to the tree then,
And there I say: Oh Orange,
Thou ripe and juicy Orange,
Thou sweet and luscious Orange,
I shake the tree, I shake it,
Oh fall into my lap!
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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Lilies Drinking Sunset and Dawn
Unchained freedom sprouts rapid, randomly
Barriers removed the open road waits
Tiger lilies swaying orange, comely
Rambling unhindered over garden gates
Weaving by wish giving dandelions
Sun worshipers smile exposing pollen
Growing through blacktop and cracks in pylons
Green leafy gypsy with an orange crown
Along roadsides and home edge you increase
Bowing to visitors snake, bird and bee
Vibrant, familiar a seasonal piece
Sprawling and sunning is easy and free
Tiger lilies drinking sunset and dawn
Orange and black - summer’s sweet seasoned yawn
poem by Stephanie Eve Kane Arado
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Murder is a Colorful Thing
Red is the color of the blood splashed on the walls of my home.
Orange is the color of her stained shirt because of the red of the blood splashed on the walls of my home.
Yellow is the color of her shirt before it was stained orange because of the red of the blood splashed on the walls of my home.
Green is the color of her stomach as I cut her tummy open through her once yellow shirt stained orange because of the red of the blood splashed on the walls of my home.
Blue is the color of the happy sky while I cut into the green of her tummy through her once yellow shirt now stained orange because of the red of the blood splashed on the walls of my home.
Violet is the color of my swollen face from crying under the blue happy sky while I cut into the green of her tummy through her once yellow shirt now stained orange because of the red of the blood splashed on the walls of my home.
Murder is a colorful thing...
poem by Tamara Buengener
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Fading Shades of Gray
An autumn leaf descends toward a fire—
Slowly, like a feather in the soft wind.
Dehydrated, its orange body is crisp
And brittle enough to crumble in hand.
In the past few weeks, the branches above
Have grown barren—so quickly they have thinned—
And the brisk air has become harsh and cold
As if to say nature's warmth must expire.
What was once green covers in the thick smoke
That pillows up from the crackling land.
The smolder of time takes each fading shade.
Orange becomes red and black edges expand
‘Til the veins flow gray. The leaf, ashen-skinned,
Becomes the dust of seasons to transpire.
poem by Tim Stensloff
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