Summer Fields
February heat comes too early.
The fields turn brown
And men with bent backs
Harvest the premature
Golden grains
of rice
March should have come
But it didn't.
The grasses wilt, the dust roams around
The wheels of the hauling tractor
Sounds the start
Of another season
Covered eyes and noses
And the silence of the mouth.
It is time to keep memories.
It is this time of the year when sadness goes away.
Another one bites the dust
So to say.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
A Beautiful Fairy And The Fairy Dust Rain
Around this time of the year
The arrival of Spring is near
The arrival of Spring is almost here
And I'll happily be one with the spirits of nature
I'll completely embrace the magic of spring
As well as the wonder of nature
And the many other worldly pleasures
Around this time of the year
I await the fairy dust rain
Surrounded by trees and flowers
And many other things that are green
I await the arrival of the fairy dust rain
And many other sights of nature just waiting to be seen
A beautiful fairy flutters down from the sky
And lands down in front of me
She's almost as tall as me
We greet each other
And our hopes are the same
As we wait for the fairy dust rain
In the meantime
The beautiful fairy shows me her gifts of magic
And shares her knowledge with me as well
After periods of time have gone by
Fairy dust begins to rain down from the sky
The fairy dust rain has finally arrived
And we share the smiles and laughter
You ask me for a dance
And I don't hesitate to pass up this chance
We dance
Surrounded by flowers
Surrounded by trees
Surrounded by the fairy dust rain
After dancing
We look into each other's eyes
And then up to the skies
As the fairy dust rain continues to fall
Our eyes then return to each other
And we share a hug
You flutter your wings a little
Shaking off some of the fairy dust that's covered them
You tell me you're staying with me
At least for the time being right now
Little by little
We're being lightly covered in the fairy dust rain
Beautiful fairy
I must say that these moments we share
They're memorable and precious
You echo your feelings and sentiments to me as well
As the fairy dust rain continues to fill the air
Side by side
We stand together
Loving what's happening
But most importantly
We enjoy the sight of the fairy dust rain
poem by Justin Gildow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Them And Us
One finger on the button
One finger up his nose
Johnny's in some cornfield
The early warning blows
Bigger is better
More is more
Look up, america!
Gonna even up the score
Get ready boys
Third times a charm
Don't need no sweater
It's gonna keep you warm
If we can't have the ball, there won't be any winner
This time
Them and us
Them and us
Ashes to ashes
Dust to dust
If forty-five minutes
It'll all be done
We'll all be good and crispy
But we'll still be number one
And if things go from bad to worse
We can still kill them if they kill us first
If we can't have the ball, there won't be any winner
This time
Hell-bent
Heaven sent
It all got started by an accident
If we can't have the ball, there won't be any winner
This time
Them and us
Them and us
Ashes to ashes
Dust to dust
Them and us
Them and us
Ashes to ashes
Dust to dust
song performed by by Don Henley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Lonely Bird On The Electric Wire
this afternoon i take a walk leading to the farm
it is harvest time
and i see the harvesters cutting the rice stalks filled with golden grains
they would group what they gather at a certain place
mounds and mounds of rice grains this time of a bumper year
on the other side are carabaos grazing
lots of grass to graze adding the recently cut rice stalks
i look at the clouds white and blue and shades of both
my attention is however caught by a single bird perched on the electrical wire connecting two poles about 30 meters apart
it is alone there
and i move closely to see whether it is really a bird
indeed it is one of the sparrows in the ricefield
but so unlike the rest it
it is sitting there alone.
our eyes met.
and i tell my wife about this lonely bird.
she says i am just making a metaphor
i sit alone in my garden now after dining
and i wonder if the bird flew back to its nest or to some territory of its own
where their species also live
and i wonder if the bird must be also telling the other birds that it saw
a man walking alone on that path leading to the farm
and unlike other men he prefers to walk alone
and i also think that perhaps the bird would also take issue about the fact that indeed
our eyes met
and i know the other birds would say
that it is nothing but also a sort of metaphor and to the least that
it is nothing but a kind of fable.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Them & Us
One finger on the button
One finger up his nose
Johnnys in some cornfield
The early warning blows
Bigger is better
More is more
Look up, america!
Gonna even up the score
Get ready boys
Third times a charm
Dont need no sweater
Its gonna keep you warm
If we cant have the ball, there wont be any winner
This time
Them and us
Them and us
Ashes to ashes
Dust to dust
If forty-five minutes
Itll all be done
Well all be good and crispy
But well still be number one
And if things go from bad to worse
We can still kill them if they kill us first
If we cant have the ball, there wont be any winner
This time
Hell-bent
Heaven sent
It all got started by an accident
If we cant have the ball, there wont be any winner
This time
Them and us
Them and us
Ashes to ashes
Dust to dust
Them and us
Them and us
Ashes to ashes
Dust to dust
song performed by by Don Henley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Goin Back To Alabama
(with kenny rogers)
Goin back to alabama...
Now that Ive learned a thing or two
Life for me had been so easy
But Ive got some livin yet to do
cause a man who walks by the side of the road
Can turn himself around
He can pick himself up
And dust himself off
And start all over again
My friend...
Some days I didnt wanna wake up in the mornin
My family and friends were all down on me
I tried to tell em where I was goin
But they never saw the man I saw in me
Some folks call me a dreamer
Other folks laughed and called me a fool
All I ever wanted to be was a winner
cause I know a winner can never lose
cause a man who walks by the side of the road
Can turn himself around
He can pick himself up
And dust himself off
And start all over again
cause a man who walks by the side of the road
Can turn himself around
He can pick himself up
And dust himself off
And start all over again
My friend...
Yes a man who walks by the side of the road
Can turn himself around
He can pick himself up
(pick himself up)
And dust himself off
(dust himself off)
(and)
Start all over again
Im a man
Im a man
(Im a man)
You know a man who walks by the side of the road
Can turn himself around
He can pick himself up
And dust himself off
And start all over again
You know a man who walks by the side of the road
Can turn himself around
He can pick himself up
And dust himself off
And start all over again...
song performed by by Michael Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Maya
little brown birds with grey beaks and a patch of black
on their heads
three of them
drinking water on a pond of water created
by the little rain this morning
as i go near them
they all look at me and then in a sudden
they all fly away leaving some ripples in the
muddled pond
i never think of them as my enemies
they all leave at once
i do not have a gun
or a club or a slingshot
what i have in my hands are rice grains, nothing but rice grains
yes, rice grains for all of them
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Counting
fifteen heads of buffaloes
grazing on the rice fields
twenty in all are the mounds
of rice husks
this harvest season
ten heads of men bowing
down to earth
sixteen heads of women
singing a summer song
a moon still up the crown
of mahogany tree
this early morning
a lone bird flies away
from me.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Turn Turn Turn
To everything
Turn, turn, turn
There is a season
Turn, turn, turn
And a time for every purpose under Heaven
A time to be born, a time to die
A time to plant, a time to reap
A time to kill, a time to heal
A time to laugh, a time to weep
To everything
Turn, turn, turn
There is a season
Turn, turn, turn
And a time for every purpose under Heaven
A time of love, a time of hate
A time of war, a time of peace
A time you may embrace
A time to refrain from embracings
To everything
Turn, turn, turn
There is a season
Turn, turn, turn
And a time for every purpose under Heaven
A time to gain, a time to lose
A time to rend, a time to sew
A time for love, a time for hate
A time for peace, I swear it's not too late
To everything
Turn, turn, turn
There is a season
Turn, turn, turn
song performed by by Wilson Phillips
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Turn! Turn! Turn! (To Everything There Is A Season)
To everything
Turn, turn, turn
There is a season
Turn, turn, turn
And a time for every purpose under Heaven
A time to be born, a time to die
A time to plant, a time to reap
A time to kill, a time to heal
A time to laugh, a time to weep
To everything
Turn, turn, turn
There is a season
Turn, turn, turn
And a time for every purpose under Heaven
A time of love, a time of hate
A time of war, a time of peace
A time you may embrace
A time to refrain from embracings
To everything
Turn, turn, turn
There is a season
Turn, turn, turn
And a time for every purpose under Heaven
A time to gain, a time to lose
A time to rend, a time to sew
A time for love, a time for hate
A time for peace, I swear it's not too late
To everything
Turn, turn, turn
There is a season
Turn, turn, turn
song performed by by Wilson Phillips
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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161
On the hour of my death
The rice fields are empty
The grasses wilt in summer
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The White Herons And The Black Buffaloes
the harvest season is over
the women had gone to their homes
with their men and children
around the table of wood
dinner of fish and rice
the family eats as one
how close can a family be
in love and friendship
last night the rain poured heavily again
flooding the rice fields
this early morning before the sun rises
the black buffaloes graze and
then wade in the muddy waters
above their heads the white herons are flying low
gracefully hovering and landing
at their backs
some stand beside their thick skins
pecking for lice
how close can these creatures be
on friendship consistently
symbiotically designed
by nature's hands
sometimes i wish
we can be like all these
on a friendship without vested interest
on love platonic
in sickness and in health
......
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Indra
DOWN to the sand-covered earth.
Straw from the harvested fields soiled our feet;
Dust from the high-roads,
Smoke from the cities,
Foul-smelling breaths,
Fumes from cellars and kitchens,
All we endured.
Then to the open sea we fled,
Filling our lungs with air,
Shaking our wings,
And laving our feet.
Indra, Lord of the Heavens,
Hear us!
Hear our sighing!
Unclean is the earth;
Evil is life;
Neither good nor bad
Can men be deemed.
As they can, they live,
One day at a time.
Sons of dust, through dust they journey;
Born out of dust, to dust they return.
Given they were, for trudging,
Feet, not wings for flying.
Dusty they grow--
Lies the fault then with them,
Or with Thee?
poem by August Strindberg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Turn Turn Turn
To everything
Turn, turn, turn
There is a season
Turn, turn, turn
And a time to every purpose under heaven
A time to be born, a time to die
A time to plant, a time to reap
A time to kill, a time to heal
A time to laugh, a time to weep
To everything
Turn, turn, turn
There is a season
Turn, turn, turn
And a time to every purpose under heaven
A time to build up, a time to break down
A time to dance, a time to mourn
A time to cast away stones
A time to gather stones together
To everything
Turn, turn, turn
There is a season
Turn, turn, turn
And a time to every purpose under heaven
A time of love, a time of hate
A time of war, a time of peace
A time you may embrace
A time to refrain from embracings
A time to gain, a time to lose
A time to rend, a time to sew
A time to love, a time to hate
A time of peace, i swear it's not too late
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Christmas Is A Season...
christmas is a season of the heart,
a time to cherish family and friends;
a time to laugh and hug, or start,
to amplify the joy your prescense sends.
christmas is a season of the heart,
it knows the love that cannot die;
it knows the reasons that we part,
and gladdens, 'tho we know not why.
christmas is a season of the heart,
it shines it's light to all who see;
gifts are heaped upon it's cart,
and we are thrilled, to let it be.
christmas is season full of joy,
with acts of giving at every turn;
a child's eyes shine with it's new toy,
and lessons of love we slowly learn.
christmas is a season of happy sounds,
carols of praise float on the air;
the season of love that knows no bounds,
the season that shows we truly care.
poem by David Lessard
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dust In The Wind
Music : Kerry Livgren
Lyrics: Kerry Livgren
I close my eyes
Only for a moment and the moment's gone
All my dreams
Pass before my eyes, a curiosity
Dust in the wind
All they are is dust in the wind
Same old song
Just a drop of water in an endless sea
All we do
Crumbles to the ground, though we refuse to see
Dust in the wind
All we are is dust in the wind
Now, Don't hang on
Nothing lasts forever but the earth and sky
It slips away
And all your money won't another minute buy
Dust in the wind
All we are is dust in the wind
Dust in the wind
All we are is dust in the wind
Dust in the wind
All we are is dust in the wind
Dust in the wind
All we are is dust in the wind
song performed by by Scorpions
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Year in Haiku
JANUARY
Delightful display
Of snowdrops bowing white heads
To the sun’s glory.
FEBRUARY
Green buds now appear
Indicating spring will soon
Energise us all.
MARCH
Lambs gambol in fields
Frisky with the joys of life
Bleating happily.
APRIL
Bluebells standing proud
Beneath trees now sparsely dressed
With freshest green leaves.
MAY
Much awaited sound
Echoes through forest and copse -
Cuckoo’s arrival.
JUNE
Parks and gardens burst
With sounds and vibrant colours
Perfect harmony.
JULY
Beaches become full
Of families having fun
In sand and big waves.
AUGUST
Ripe golden harvest
Burning sun in azure skies
Labours rewarded.
SEPTEMBER
Swallows congregate
On telephone wires ready
To migrate down south.
OCTOBER
Red and gold leaves fall,
Crunchy as cornflakes beneath
Feet on a crisp morn.
NOVEMBER
Frosty webs sparkle
In the early morning sun
Brightly bejewelled.
DECEMBER
First few flakes of snow
Dust gardens like icing on
A chocolate cake.
poem by Paul Holmes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Brown Grass: Doom
brown grass, no signs of rain,
ripe grains of rice spreading on the ground
the dust reigns like triumphant ant
soldiers, the sun is up, the earth is heated,
the leaves are shedding, the rocks are cracking,
drought comes and stays for months,
under a cave, a dog rests,
smelling death.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Memories
the memories have become brown leaves
with the slight touch of the wind
this summer
all of them fall to the ground
some will be blown far away
some will stay and crack
and become dust
in a little while,
i will hear the sound of everything
the wind blowing,
the falling of the leaves
the cracking and
then how the dust
whispers
that it still want to stay and wait
even longer
for the next season of rain
like some seeds.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The power of destiny
When I was but a child
I saw a red tractor,
hit a black boulder
and get jacked right over.
Red dust clouds
rushed into the air
from the spinning wheels,
but the grim reality
of the crushed driver
was there for all to see.
Till this day
the power of destiny,
stays with me.
I wonder if the driver
was late
and drove past that rock,
if it would have happened
at another time and place?
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Early Summer
’Tis the early summer season, when the skies are clear and blue;
When wide warm fields are glad with corn as green as ever grew,
And upland growths of wattles engolden all the view.
Oh! Is there conscious joyance in that heven so clearly blue?
And is it a felt happiness that thus comes beating through
Great nature’s mother heart, when the golden year is new?
When the woods are whitened over by the jolly cockatoo,
And swarm with birds as beautiful as ever gladdened through
The shining hours of time when the golden year was new?
poem by Charles Harpur
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