The Kamuning Trees Are Blooming...
under the kamuning tree
its white blossoms are falling
i sit upon a white chair in the garden
as petals fall softly like snow flakes from the sky
a wind blows us all happily away from here
i have become one kamuning scented soul
i feel so light
searching for my heaven.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Night Perfume From The Garden
the kamuning
is blooming with white flowers again
tonight
it is spreading its scent
in the garden
profusely diffusing
inside my room
and then
i remember you
how you make love
with me
throwing away
all fears
there is no obstruction
to love
not even the light
that the morning hands
to our naked
bodies.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Beautiful World....
That night the
flowers of kamuning
bloomed
White perfume was
spread
as the cool air of
June
was playful with
the tiny
green leaves
I sat under it
there were no stars in the skies
no moon
Dark clouds covered
what the sky could have
offered
It was your Light
that illuminated my
dark world &
With You i had no reasons
for fear
What a scented world!
how beautiful it is!
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Snow on snow
Snow on snow
Flakes gently falling
Like leaves from a tree
Asking permission
Before they land
On the snowflakes underneath
Each one different
Like leaves on a tree
A white carpet
Pure white till soiled
By children’s shoes
They love its touch
Ooo snowball fights
Snow doesn’t hurt
Snow is soft and forgiving
People hurt
They are selfish and cruel
So let it snow
Snow on snow on
poem by James Hart
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Snow Fall in the Moonlight
Snow fall in the moonlight,
Like soft cotton falling from the sky,
Covering the ground and bushes in pure white,
Glowing beautifully in the night of December.
Snow fall in the moonlight,
Like a child I walked happily through the pure white snow,
Making soft crackling sound in the silent winter night,
When I reached the far end of the open field,
I turned to see the path I had taken,
A straight line through the pure white snow.
Snow fall in the moonlight,
Can there be a more beautiful sight than this?
As I look into the night sky,
And the soft snow flakes touches my face,
I breathe the fresh cold air of the winter night.
As I stood alone in silence, stillness in the air,
My feeling and longing comes to my lips,
And I thank Allah for this beautiful moment,
A chance to see snow fall in the moonlight!
(In memory of Belgian winter,1986)
poem by Spiritual Seeker
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Snowy evening
Snowy evening
Snow filling the ground
Turning the city into white
She, in a bright red dress
Walking slowly, enjoying
Her walk in the snowy evening
Towards the Fence of the garden!
Greenaries of the garden
Now in white shades
With frozen drops of ice
Covering the grass
Every little bush
Like a cotton plant
Making a lovely sense!
Few snow flakes in her hands
To taste the pretty white snow
She opens her mouth
Awesome beauty with a white perl
In hand towards her mouth
With more innocence
Trees and bushes covered with snow
Wonders if she is pretty
Or the snow fall is pretty
Unexpressed silence persists
In the garden
Till the beauty
Went down the street!
poem by Archana Prabahar
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When You Step Into My Garden
when you step in my garden
of earth
water
and fire
you are the woman there
looking softly
daintily whispering to the
cherry blossoms
that now they must bloom
because love is here
and for the moment
it will be full
whole,
stay there
and let the cherry blossoms
take a moment with you
in excitement
some of them dance with the
wind and sadly
now you shall watch them
softly
daintily falling like some
tiny white butterflies
still learning
how to flutter......................
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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378
when you step in my garden
of earth
water
and fire
you are the woman there
looking softly
daintily whispering to the
cherry blossoms
that now they must bloom
because love is here
and for the moment
it will be full
whole,
stay there
and let the cherry blossoms
take a moment with you
in excitement
some of them dance with the
wind and sadly
now you shall watch them
softly
daintily falling like some
tiny white butterflies
still learning
how to flutter......................
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Butterfly
Butterfly, the wind blows sea-ward,
strong beyond the garden-wall!
Butterfly, why do you settle on my
shoe, and sip the dirt on my shoe,
Lifting your veined wings, lifting them?
big white butterfly!
Already it is October, and the wind
blows strong to the sea
from the hills where snow must have
fallen, the wind is polished with
snow.
Here in the garden, with red
geraniums, it is warm, it is warm
but the wind blows strong to sea-ward,
white butterfly, content on my shoe!
Will you go, will you go from my warm
house?
Will you climb on your big soft wings,
black-dotted,
as up an invisible rainbow, an arch
till the wind slides you sheer from the
arch-crest
and in a strange level fluttering you go
out to sea-ward, white speck!
Anonymous submission.
poem by David Herbert Lawrence
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Snow in April
If you must slight me, let it be the touch
That snow in April, falling soft and white
Gives to the blossoms delicate and light,
So I don’t suffer, it won’t harm me much.
If you must spite me, let it be as quick
As snow in April falling, not to last.
Lies just one moment then, like mist is past,
So it won’t sting me; I won’t feel the prick.
If you must fight me, let the tender blows
Like snow in April, make no lasting mark
As soft, spring sunshine, on the grassy park,
Brings green renewal. But yet April snows
Can still surprise me, stir me from my rest
For snow is April’s chill, unwelcome guest.
poem by C. Richard Miles
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When The Snow Came
The snow started here, at about half past four;
Lightly, at first, but then it fell more and more.
Upon spying the first few flakes, I rushed to the shop;
The snow began to settle, but I hoped that it may stop.
But it continued to fall, creating a blanket of white;
Till snowflakes coated everything within my sight.
By nightfall, the world was bathed in an eerie glow,
Created by the bright reflection of the fallen snow.
Against the orange glow of a nearby street light,
I could see flakes falling, and swirling in flight.
Overnight, heavy snow had been forecast to fall,
But, luckily, for us, we had no extra snow at all.
I awoke in the morning, and saw patches of green,
And clear rectangles, where parked cars had been.
The snow was not half as bad, as I had anticipated;
I knew the snow would soon melt, and I felt elated.
The day brightened up and, very soon, the sun shone;
In almost no time at all, much of the snow was gone.
By midday, we were well into the very welcome thaw;
I’m hoping that, for a while, we won’t have any more.
Snow can create many amazing, picturesque scenes,
But walking through it, when it’s icy, I’m not so keen.
Whenever snow is predicted, I feel panic in my heart,
And I feel glad whenever the snow decides to depart.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Now Those Times Are Here Again (from Minutes of Falling Days)
Now those times are here again
When the days will become darker
And in the hearts of various men
Yesterdays shall become sparker
When the snow will fall and glow
Bringing chilliness and holidays
As each month to darkness will go
In the glisten down falling glaze
When the snow is back in here
Silvery white on a frozen earth
For now this time’s coming near
With its mistletoes and mirth
With its snow-white cold ice
Bracing windows in a frosty rose
Morning dark and twilight skies
When on treetops cold wind blows
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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Easter Snow
Easter is a time
for change, sunshine,
but where's the sun
as I look out my,
window this easter
morning, what is this
I see, not more snow,
rain is ok, but
snow no, snow I
thought I had seen
the last of you,
but you just keep
coming, so white
is the ground as
snow flakes keep
falling and falling.
They say if it
rains easter sunday,
for seven sundays
we shall have rain.
Does this mean
that now for seven
sundays we shall have
snow falling on us?
Sun last few weeks
you have been so
kind to us, please
pay us a visit,
once again and
bring comfort to
these old bones of
mine once again.
They say we need
the moisture, so
rain wake up and
please fall on us, once again.
(4-8-07)
Wintertime
Snow falling on the ground,
Little white flakes to be found.
Lift your head to the sky,
And watch the snow zippin’ by.
Cold wind at your back,
Nothing winter seems to lack.
A blanket of snow covers the Trees,
Winter can’t end. No please!
Can’t Jack Frost do his Job?
For a little longer, don’t make me sob.
Can’t I stay in this Wonderland?
I don’t want to return to golden sand.
But under the layer of cold, white snow,
Lies little seedlings ready to show.
I must say a grateful farewell,
To winter fun, for it was swell.
And say hello to summer sweat,
Instead of getting cold, we get wet.
Hello Spring! Hello Summer!
Goodbye Fall! Goodbye Winter!
Waiting For the Snow
Waiting for the Snow
When the leaves turn golden
And the geese fly south
Where will I be?
When the wind turns cold
And the bear is in hiding
Where will I be?
When the streams are frozen
And the rabbits’ color turning
Where will I be?
When the leaves begin to fall
And the northern cardinals stay
Where will I be?
When the nuts fall down
And squirrels store walnuts
Where will I be?
When the corn is harvested
And the deer seek shelter
Where will I be?
When the grass is brown
And the pheasants are flying
Where will I be?
I will be riding before the wind
And winging t’ward the sun
Flying from the snow
I will be waiting for spring
And sleeping till then
Hiding from the snow
I will be hiding till I’m white
And searching the ground for food
Waiting for the snow
I will be looking for berries
And singing merrily
Waiting for the snow
I will be saving acorns
And jumping form tree to tree
Waiting for the snow
I will be searching fields for corn
And hiding in thickets
Waiting for the snow
I will be hiding under grass
And calling out loud
Waiting for the snow
White snow flakes falling
And whirl all around the ground
- In the blowing wind
haiku by Peter S. Quinn
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Winter Song
OH, who would be sad tho' the sky be a-graying,
And meadow and woodlands are empty and bare;
For softly and merrily now there come playing,
The little white birds thro' the winter-kissed air.
The squirrel's enjoying the rest of the thrifty,
He munches his store in the old hollow tree;
Tho' cold is the blast and the snow-flakes are drifty
He fears the white flock not a whit more than we.
Chorus:
Then heigho for the flying snow!
Over the whitened roads we go,
With pulses that tingle,
And sleigh-bells a-jingle
For winter's white birds here's a cheery heigho!
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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A May Wedding
A May Wedding
As a bride who has the long veil around her head
The dogwood has white petals and they hide branches on the tree.
When it is time for her to kiss the groom
And the petals fall gently.
They become a white cloth spread neatly.
This looks like a wedding dress with a long train behind her
As she is walking down the aisle in the room
The wedding bells are ringing until she is out of sight
The wind appears and I see white doves in flight.
poem by Meg Harrison
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The Old Pine Tree
'Listen my child,' said the old pine
tree, to the little one nestling near,
'For the storm clouds troop together to-night,
and the wind of the north I hear
And perchance there may come some echo of
the music of long ago,
The music that rang when the White Host
sang, marching across the snow.'
'Up and away Saint George! up thro' the
mountain gorge,
Over the plain where the tempest blows, and
the great white flakes are flying
Down the long narrow glen! faster my merry
men,
Follow the trail, tho' shy moon hides, and
deeply the drifts are lying.'
'Ah! mother.' the little pine tree replied,
'you are dreaming again to-night
Of ghostly visions and phantom forms that for-
ever mock your sight
'Tis true moan of the winter wind comes
to my list'ning ear
But the White Host marching, I cannot see,
and their music I cannot hear.'
'When the northern skies were all aflame
where the trembling banners swung,
When up in the vaulted heavens the moon of
the Snow Shoe hung,
When the hurricane swept the hillside, and the
crested drifts ran high
Those were the nights,' said the old pine tree,
'the great White Host marched by.'
And the storm grew fiercer, fiercer, and the
snow went hissing past,
But the little pine tree still listened, till she
heard above the blast
The music her mother loved to hear in the
nights of the long ago
And saw in the forest the white-clad Host
marching across the snow.
And loud they sang as they tramped along of
the glorious bygone days
Whan valley and hill re-echeoed the snow-
shoer's hymn of praise
Till the shy moon gazed down smiling, and the
north wind pause to hear
And the old pine tree felt young again as the
little one nestling near.
'Up and away Saint George! up thro' the
mountain gorge.
Over the plain where the tempest blows, and
the great white flakes are flying.
Down the long narrow glen! faster my merry
men.
Follow the trail, tho' the shy moon hides, and
deeply the drifts are lying.'
poem by William Henry Drummond
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Snow Flakes are dancing
Snow flakes are dancing, dancing in the air
By the lake. by the pier, far and near
Mother Earth has a white veil, draped on the ground
White fluffy snow falling gently. no sound
Sun took the day off, napping behind the cloud
Lonely dog barking, yonder, so loud
Dawn is hiding, does not know what to do
Blue sky tucked away can not peep through
Snow flakes all shapes, sailing, dancing all around
I see the foot prints of a lonely cat on the ground
A love bird flew over with a love cry
Looking for his mate? I don't know why
Kids are playing, riding on their sled
Up the hill, down the hill, on and on, not afraid
Parents are watching but having fun too
Little kids so cute, jumping on the snow like kangaroo
Sitting by the window and wonder, looking at the snow flake dancing
Mother Earth's miracle, I feel happy, feel like romancing.
poem by Syed Karim
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St. Valentine's Day
The South is a dream of flowers
With a jewel for sky and sea,
Rose-crowns for the dancing hours,
Gold fruits upon every tree;
But cold from the North The wind blows forth
That blows my love to me.
The stars in the South are gold
Like lamps between sky and sea;
The flowers that the forests hold.
Like stars between tree and tree;
But little and white Is the pale moon's light
That lights my love to me.
In the South the orange grove
Makes dusk by the dusky sea,
White palaces wrought for love
Gleam white between tree and tree,
But under bare boughs Is the little house
Warm-lit for my love and me.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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