A Little Remembering
from the old trunk at the cellar
he finds again
her old letter
telling him where to meet
her
the time and the
lovely mood for that day
all contained on a scented paper
the words written
on blue pen
the strokes well
made like
the tendrils of
the honeysuckle
that blooms so well
during summer
he did not go
and it was the last time
that she ever saw
him.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
Im In A Blue, Blue Mood
(orbison-melson)
Conway twitty also did a version of this with roy singing background vocals
Im in a blue blue mood
Now that youre gone away
Im in a blue blue mood
Its been a lonesome day
Im in a blue blue mood
I miss your caress
I reach out to hold you
But youre not there
Its just my blue blue mood.
Maybe, someday, yeah love will come
And stay, and things will turn
How bright, oh oh oh but for tonight
Im in a blue blue mood.
Im in a blue blue mood
Im in a blue blue mood
Im in a blue blue mood.
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A sensual scribble
I was the scribe who woke up at dawn
Finding a clean sheet of paper
And this glossy sort of ballpoint pen
Having the urge to write
Something sensual
My fingers spread the paper
On this table
Where there is so much disorder
Some paper clips and
Floppy discs scattered
Scotch tapes and mail openers
And some still unopened mails
That I did not mind
Not my priority
I was into something sensual
On this clean sheet of paper
On an urge to write
Grabbed this glossy sort of ballpoint pen
And start scribbling
Some lovely head notes
“My dear darling”
Careful strokes in curves
Sliding on paper
My fingers are wildly
Caressing to the shapes of
Sensual letters and words
And breathtaking sentences
“You know that you make me
Hot and you make me wild
And I always remember you”
And I am at the middle
Of so much longing
Using such letters
U and I
And w and e
Lots of ohs and ahs
And s and e and x
L and o and v and e
To make sense
Without pretense
Some exclamations
And pauses of commas and
Semicolons spread on some
Corners of this paper
With so much
Unstoppable anticipation
Somewhere in the center
I pierced this paper
With this glossy ballpoint pen
Writing something
Emphatic
Clinching
And I was at the height
Of my desiring and
So much liking
Something ecstatic
And calming
At the end
It was a beautiful piece
Of a scribble
Written at dawn
And I wrote at the end part there
“With all my love I remain
Your faithful slave”
And a postscript at the tip
Of my tongue
Written with a nip
“When will I see you again? ”
The letter shall be mailed at once
She will understand that pierce
Somewhere at the center something
That was ecstatic and she will remember
Every letter every word was an ember embedded.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Only In The Summer
Only in the summer will I ever see
The rosemary and blossoming tea
Only in the summer will I know
If he loves me
Or if I’m a bore
Only In the summer will you see
The chirping birds
Or talking trees
Only in the summer will we meet
For fear of the winter and cold, wither feet
Only in the summer
Is when I come alive
So use your time with me wise
And only then will you see how lovely
The summer time can be with me.
poem by Kimberley Waldron
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Summer Time Blues
Try to add perfumes to your minds to meet me there,
The summer is here and it is with the blues;
You are not alone on this hot summer night.
We havethe natural fragrant to keep us going,
The summer time blues to swing with the muse;
You are not alone without the blues.
Scents for your love,
Mid-Summer-Night blues to your taste;
Enjoy the summer with the safety of numbers.
Summer time blues,
The fragrant of love to keep you going;
Summer, summer, summer time! !
Summer time blues,
The summer of a muse;
Summer time blues,
The summer of a poem;
With relationships that moves you up.
Summer time blues,
With the heat waves to crown the day;
Perfume your body to meet up to the act.
Let us visit Copacabana and Ipanema this summer,
Of the rocky promontory at sight to give you hope;
Like the summer time blues with your lover.
It is summer time,
Visit the beaches to see things for yourselves;
Summer, summer, summer time! !
Meet me there and touch me with your heart.
A summer time love with the blues,
Like the golden grape of my soul;
Summer is the essence of a colourful life.
The sense of reality in times like this,
The heat with love to share with others;
Where the hearts of lovers do meet like,
One's love never touched before.
Summer time blues is all about this muse,
A time of love to share with your lover;
Summer, summer, summer time! !
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Confetti In The Wind
He wrote a letter in his mind
To answer one a maid had sent;
He sought the fitting word to find,
As on by hill and rill he went.
By bluebell wood and hawthorn lane,
The cadence sweet and silken phrase
He incubated in his brain
For days and days.
He wrote his letter on a page
Of paper with a satin grain;
It did not ring, so in a rage
He tore it up and tried again.
Time after time he drafted it;
He polished it all through the night;
He tuned and pruned till bit by bit
He got it right.
He took his letter to the post,
Yet long he held it in his hand.
Strangely his mood had veered, almost
Reversed,--he could not understand.
The girl was vague, the words were vain;
April romance had come to grief . . .
He tore his letter up again,--
Oh blest relief!
poem by Robert William Service
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Burning Paper
I wrote you a letter, but I threw it away,
I knew I would, I would if I waited a day,
It made me feel better, what I had to say,
I knew it would, it did, but I waited.
I hardly bothered, though I laboured all day,
I work so hard, there's no time left to please you.
The day I decided I had nothing to say, I'll never learn,
I'm burning all this paper away.
(chorus)
A rhythym in your walking tree, its a tapestry of pride your weaving,
Over, under, ropes of wonder, tie me to a chair.
I'm dirty feet on your clean white shoes, I'm the man of the mess that
greets you, been graced with a slap in the face, tangled in your hair.
I think its time you let me go,
I'm too in love, let me go,
I think its time you let me go,
I'm too in love,
I think its time you let me go,
I'm too in love, let me go,
(chorus)
I wrote you a letter, but I threw it away,
I knew I would, I would, if I waited a day,
It made me feel better, but I have to say,
I'll never learn, I'm burning all this paper away,
I'm burning all this paper away,
I'm burning all this paper.
song performed by by Folk Implosion
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pink Letter
Dear Father,
To thee this letter
Is written with a child’s wonder.
Pink ink
On a fancy paper almost pink
Like a blush on a maiden’s cheek
Like rose abloom in mountain’s peak.
Pink letter in the hands of a child
Bears words innocent and mild
Glorifying the father who made all –
tame and wild.
Pink letter with heavenly scent
Pink ink that stays, not evanescent
Lasts in the heart of the child who writes
Too innocent to name wrong from right.
Dear Father,
To thee this letter
Is written with a child’s wonder.
poem by Geraldine Fernandez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Love Letter
She wonders how to begin her letter
She knows he will read each word
Greedily for any hint of love. She knows
He will sniff the paper for any scent of her
She leans an elbow on her writing desk
And clutches her pen tight. She has got
As far as, Dear John, but then the words
Stopped coming. Before she had sat down
To write, the words flowed through her
Mind like a rushing stream, now nothing
She sucks the end of the pen. Say what
You would if you were face to face, her
Mother always said. She tries to imagine
He is there before her and what she would
Say if he was, but still no words will come
He writes to her so fluently when he writes
He always seems to know what to write
And how to put it into words. She tries again
Puts the pen nib onto the paper, gripping
The pen tighter. She reads what she’s written
Dear John. The pen moves, the words begin
To flow, her hand moves across the page
The images come into her mind as she writes
The things that they said last time they met
The things they did, she blushes slightly
That almost being caught out by the maid
In a state of undress. She pauses the pen
And sits gazing at the painting on the wall.
She looks back at the paper and starts again
The words tripping over themselves to be put
Down in ink upon a page; the images open up
In her mind, the colours, the smells, the events
The pen now stops. The love letter is written
The writing done. She looks at the words
Then she seals it in an envelope and writes
His address. She pictures him reading it: in bed
In his room, sleepy, in a state of his usual undress
poem by Terry Collett
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Honeysuckle
Honeysuckle, oh Honeysuckle
Watching as you grow
In the springtime and summer rain
Remembering children's games
Remembering still from a breeze
Blowing a secret scent
From my youth, still are seen
Memories, from where I have been.
Oh Honeysuckle, precious dream
Walking down our road
From a boy, unto a man
Laughing at growing old
Precious dream, and precious life
Strolling dream in mind
Standing there, in the air
Reminded me of a different time.
Honeysuckle, oh Honeysuckle
Blooming once again
In the air, and I’ll be there
Longing for your scent,
For the boy, who was lost
Not ready to survive
Then you He caught, and you he taught
How to live, and how to smile.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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I dreamt of walking in a lovely garden
(after Percy Bysshe Shelley)
I dreamt of walking in a lovely garden
and it was in the time of spring
where sprouts appeared where the ground did harden
and everywhere I could hear birds sing.
Around me there were flowers everywhere,
irises in colours of yellow, purple and blue,
scented roses in white, orange and red that made me stare
at their particular lovely hue.
Everything was fresh and new after the rain showers
and in that garden I was somewhat cosy,
I wanted to pick a bunch of flowers,
tie them into a scented posy
and I wondered for who,
as no one to me was true.
[Reference: “The Question” by Percy Bysshe Shelley.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Summer time to have fun
Summer is the fun time when get go swimming
Summer when I was born and took care of
Summer when July 4 comes around
every year
Summer is when you can lay out in sun
Summer is best time at night see
stars out
Summer when all families and friends
go to park with their kids
Summer is good time take animals
for a walk
Summer is good time of the season
plant flowers and stuff
Summer when I meet good friends online
that lives another state then we do
Summer is when I meet good guy to
talk to about anything I want and he lists
to me
Summer is when my birthday comes around
Summer when my mom birthday comes around
Summer is day I went swimming with my best friend
this year
Summer is when Amber birthday is
Summer is time of the year have cook out with friends
and your family.
Summer is good time year to have good time and swimming
and party and just have fun with everyone
poem by Kristina Riggs
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Moments Of Writing Poetry
Draft poems sometimes like
loose ripped off pieces of paper
to be drafted out roughly upon.
Draft poems hang around
in the strangest places waiting
to be written out one day.
Draft poems wait for a poet
to wake at the beginning of day
to be written out, in any
seized moments, sacrificed.
This is now time, shower time, eating time,
reflective time, conversation time, work time;
t.v. time, driving time, riding motorcycle time,
going to sleep time, cooking time, or any time.
Draft poems can only be written
in spared moments of seized time.
Draft poems can only be written today,
they will not wait for fair weather like hay,
which lays around waiting to be harvested.
Draft poems will not wait for a clear sunny day to dawn,
and then mature slowly, over a perfect golden summer.
Draft poems are ever now or never
if they are ever to be swiftly written.
A draft may possibly be perfected
upon any future day of favoured writing;
but a draft never written is a poem
never written, never completed, never known.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Cobblestones
The coffin, set up as coffins always are, near the grave, contained the father. The sentence, set up as sentences always are, on the page, contained the words. The meat package, set up as meat packages always are, with cellophane covering, contained the chops. The synagogue, set up as synagogues always are, for people, contained the rabbi. The classroom, set up as classrooms always are, for chairs, contained the professor. The coffin, set up as coffins always are, beside the grave, contained the mother. The word, set up as words always are, beyond hearing, contained the syllables. The prose, set up as prose always is, in census-rectangles, contained the phenomena. The nation, set up as nations always are, in questionnaire rooms, contained the sworn. The can, set up as cans always are, with ornate paper covers, contained the chicken o’noodle soup, with the circular noodles. Abacus, guitar, and quipu, set up as abacus, guitar and quipu always are, hieratically on notional strings, contained tobacco’s troubadours. The coffin, set up as coffins always are, next to the grave, contained the sister. The elegy, set up as elegies always are, dishonestly, contained the family. The steak, set up as steaks always are, artificially reddened, contained the fat. The rectangular venetian blinds, set up as rectangular venetian blinds always are, in the windowframe, contained the slats. The DNA, set up as DNA always is, in double helixes, contained the and. The word people, set up as the word people always is, in writing, contained the o.
poem by Aaron Fogel
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Words on paper
Words on paper
~
Just words on paper
Where a story is told
An emotion revealed
Or a love laid to rest
Where a dream begins
An ambition is spoken
Perhaps a whim of fancy
Takes charge of the pen
To write what is written
Letters forming words
Shapley and beautiful
Expressions of a soul
Or a mind at play
There across the page
Words on paper
Written to have their say
poem by Matthew Holloway
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To a friend somewhere in Chicago
In your hands you have the sun
In my heart I have the moon & stars
We fold this wide distance like
A paper, a letter where we have once written
Words that rekindle some old fires
Long, long time ago
I sleep in the dark and there you are
Lost and finding your way out
From so much light
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Did I Do Something Write?
Have I, in recent days…
made you sad
Perhaps brought tears…
To your eyes
Have I rudely rent the fabric
of your heart
By reminding you of
Old loves and lies
Have I made you smile
With a memory tweak
To times long past
Yet dear
Have I made Your
skin crawl a bit
Shiver slightly
In unfounded fear
Have I made you wonder
Why things are… as they are
Have I made you ponder
If some things… really are
Have I made you snicker
Snort or chuckle
Caused you to dreamily smell
Long faded honeysuckle
Have I made you feel
That I’ve wasted your time
That you could have done Better
than to have read what I’ve written
Have I caused a big grin …With
some asinine rhyme…Made you remember
a certain letter From that special someone…
that you were smitten
Have I gotten Inside your head
To private places…
Thoughts known
to only you
Have I done these things?
If so… My heart sings
For these are things…
That only poets do
poem by David Whalen
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I Love You
I must be crazy now
Maybe I dream too much
But when I think of you
I long to feel your touch
To whisper in your ear
Words that are old as time
Words only you would hear
If only you were mine
I wish I could go back to the very first day I saw you
Should've made my move when you looked in my eyes
'Cause by now I know that you'd feel the way that I do
And you'd whisper these words as you'd lie here by my side
I love you
Please say you love me too
These three words
They could change our lives forever
And I promise you that we will always be together
'Til the end of time
So today I finally find the courage deep inside
Just to walk right up to your door
But my body can't move when I finally get to it
Like a thousand times before
Then without a word you handed me this letter
Read I hope this finds the way into your heart
song performed by by Faith Hill from Faith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Am I Blue
Am I blue, ah am I blue
Aint these tears in these eyes telling you
Am I blue
Youll be too
I said if this plans with your man
Done fell through
Oh there was a time
When I was, when I was hes only one
But look at me and see now
Im oh Im the sad, Im the sad and lonely one
Im a fool and Im the only one
Was I gay, was I gay until today
Oh God hes gone, hes gone and were through
Am I blue
There was a time there was a time
I said there was a time
That I was hes only one
But right now, right now
Im, Im the sad of the sad and lonely one
Im the left behind only one
Am I blue, ah am I blue
Now hes gone and were through
Am i, am I blue
Am I blue
song performed by by Cher
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Summer is when we are free
School is over until it's time to go back. Summer is for havibgfun. Being free and smiling at our life. Summer come only once every year. So don't waste anytime. Because the days go so fast. We can't keep up and take each day one at a time. We make the best of everyday. It's time to put aways the books. And get out the thingd that make summer fun. Summer is the time to be lazy and just doing nothitng that is what summer is all about. written 1/17/09 Posted 4/25/10
poem by Susie Sunshine
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Big Lie Small World
Words and music by sting
I sat down and wrote this letter
Telling you that I felt better
Since youve gone and I was free
Im so happy
I have so little time to spare now
Im wanted almost everywhere now
I make out like casanova
Friends are always coming over
I signed my name as if I meant it
And sealed it with a kiss and sent it
The letter headed through my mood
Happy in my solitude
But halfway home I changed my tune
And when I saw my lonely room
The mirror caught my eye
When I sat down, I cried
Big lie, small world
It was a big lie, small world
I had to intercept that letter
Telling you that I was better
I raced to catch the postmans van
He was leaving as I ran
I missed the bus, I missed the train
I end up walking in the rain
Big dog chased me down the street
Hadnt had a bite to eat
Feeling sorry for myself
And wishing I was someone else
I walked across the city
Because I couldnt stand your pity
Big lie, small world
It was a big lie, small world
The place you live looks opulent
And obviously a higher rent
Than a cozy little room
I had this sense of doom
Your landlord says youre out of town
But your new boyfriends always around
The hour was getting late
So I sit down and wait
Heres the postman with my letter
Coming down the path he better
Give that thing to me
I have to make him see
Begging doesnt do the trick
He thinks that Im a lunatic
But then who comes upon the scene
But your new boyfriend, mr. clean
I hit the postman, hit your lover
Grabbed the letter, ran for cover
The police arrived in time for tea
They said theyd like to question me
But I can only curse my fate
I had to face the magistrate
It hasnt been the best of days
Id like to fly away
Big lie, small world
Big lie, small world
It was a big lie, small world
Big lie, small world
song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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