The White Pearls From Me
as the gray, thick clouds
of Jose Dalman bring forth
the wild, heavy rain and as
the blown mahogany leaves
look for life on the grass
and the plain
as the intensity of the storms
of the Marupay's fierce winds brings forth
the strong pleas of the
workers of the land
proud of the green orchards
asking to be spared
and when the eyes of the typhoon
meet the eyes of the
monkeys and the parakeets and
python
so in me, shall come the arc of the rainbow
the subsiding side, the stopping of the rage, and the
cool white pearls of the morning dew.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Orchards
Orchards in the Spring-time! Oh, I think and think of them,—
Filmy mists of pink and white above the fresh, young green,
Lifting and drifting,—how my eyes could drink of them,
I'm staring at a dirty wall beyond a big machine.
Orchards in the Spring-time! Deep in soft, cool shadows,—
Moving all together when the west wind blows
Fragrance upon fragrance over road and meadows—
I'm smelling heat and oil and sweat, and thick, black clothes.
Orchards in the Spring-time! The clean white and pink of them
Lifting and drifting with all the winds that blow.
Orchards in the Spring-time! Thank God I still can think of them!
You're not docked for thinking, — if the foreman doesn't know.
poem by Theodosia Garrison
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The Cruel Winds of Winter
Got up this morning, no sun in my eyes,
The house is so cold, no warmth to the fire,
My love is gone, he took all my desire,
And cruel winds of winter howled all night.
My love could warm me in the coldest time,
Bring the light of day to the darkest night,
As tears of my sorrow fall from my eyes,
The cruel winds of winter cry in delight.
Pull on my coat, keep the chill from my side,
I walk by the sea, the salt stings my eye,
The caps are all gray, like clouds in the sky,
And with those cruel winds of winter, I cry.
As tears of my sorrow fall to the sand,
My love is not here to warn my cold hand,
He’s gone like the sun from this harsh, gray land,
And only the wind seems to understand.
This endless winter has replaced his light,
My sweet love gone, no warmth in my sight,
I drift lost and lonely, no sleep I find,
Still those winds cry with me deep in the night.
My heart so heavy, life has no delight,
And the cruel winds of winter, torment my night.
poem by Teresa Dearing
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Clouds
Clouds, the clouds diffuse a sad and somewhat somber hue;
Rain, the rain descends aslant from angry ashen skies;
Winds, the winds bemoan their loss of reins and calm control;
Shades, the shades appear suffused, alone in lurid haze;
Trees, the trees enshroud the eyes of misty brooding woods;
Leaves, the leaves desert their branches, falling one by one;
Birds, the birds intone a tune, a mourning monody;
Grass, the grass surrenders blades, impaled in truant winds;
Fields, the fields imbibe and quaff to quench an arid thirst;
Stones, the stones repulse the pearls, exploding tears of gloom;
Streams, the streams meander, hushed, to distant vapid shores;
Clouds, the clouds diffuse a sad and somewhat somber hue
poem by Terry O'Leary
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The Sun In Clouds
The sun in clouds,
Dim, dull and subdued outside,
Has ever lost his fierce sunshine?
The layers of clouds
That hide the sun in distant heaven
Could ever reach the worlds of the sun?
The sun is a giant living ball
That lights a hundred lightless worlds
Like a sole bright eye of a pitch-black heaven;
How the world of minute clouds
Reach the flames of the imperious sun,
Who guts all shams and burns all sins?
The sun is not in clouds,
But the eyes in clouds see so,
Those eyes lose shine in front of the light;
How can little frogs
Stretch beyond the clouds
And reach the truth of the sun’s splendours?
For the eyes caught in hazy clouds,
The proud sun is dull and subdued
And humbled by valiant windstorms;
Crack the clouds and see outside;
The sun is as bright and fierce as ever,
Whom no clouds touch nor storms reach.
Clouds may come and clouds may go,
But the sun remains the same,
A bright glow, far removed from the earth,
In gay abandon of an unattached soul,
With floods of light, thrown all round
For those who see with unclouded eyes.
The sun, so hot, none endeavour to reach;
The sun, so bright, none open their eyes;
The sun, the tough, proud lonely splendour
Reigns over heaven in imperial grace;
None reach his height, none withstand his might,
But, win his heart or avoid his sight.
The scorching heat of his inmost core
Creeps like lava on uneasy skin
Thro’ the layers of thick and black clouds;
His unsubdued heat
Rouses wild whirlwinds
That scatter clouds in the nether world.
Beyond the mortal measures, beyond praise and trials,
The sun shines forever;
Beyond minute clouds in the womb of black sky,
The sun shines forever;
For, the celestial glow should light the world
And meet universal goal.
poem by Praveen Kumar
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Will winds come?
Sky was dark.
Holding thick bundles of rain inside
waiting for winds to
open bundles of rain,
take away heavy bundles
and free me to play with
white cool light clouds.
Sky was worried.
Will winds come and free me
from this dark bundles of rain
making me feel tired
making my knees paining?
When will those winds come?
How long I have to carry these dark bundles?
Waiting for winds
will I fall down
with tiring weakening bundles
of these dark clouds
in my hand?
Even the sun is moving down
with colour changing to red
going for rest for night.
When will these winds come?
Am I destined to fall down
tired and exhausted
with ever increasing burden
of these dark clouds in my hand?
10, September,2008
poem by Thomas Viruvelil
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Eyes Of Green And Gray
Eyes of green and gray
i wish you'd look my way
smile for me today
O eyes of green and gray
Eyes of black and white
of sorrow and delight
i behold every sight
through eyes of black and white
Eyes as hard as stone
so cold and all alone
lost without a home
with eyes as hard as stone
Eyes of green and gray
it's here i want to stay
and never look away
from eyes of green and gray
poem by Sergey Sibikovsky
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You Can't Have Everything
The Queensland sun shines early in the morning
And keeps on burning hotter through the day
And though the Parklands watered by the sprinklers
Through the pale green patches of brown through gray.
But I know of a Land of natural greeness
Where Spring doesn't often come till early May
Though birds from early April on nest building
In that green Country half a World away.
I close my eyes I hear the dipper singing
And wild flowers bloom along the mountain stream
And chaffinch pipes his happy notes to April
And grass is growing and fields look lush and green.
Here in the Gold Coast in deep south of Queensland
The lorikeets and noisy miners sing
They have only known the warmth of the sub tropics
Where Winter's warmer than the northern Spring.
In distant Land above the bracken mountain
The lark is piping in the morning sky
Till lost to view he soars towards gathering rain clouds
And singing ever singing as he fly.
In South Queensland the rain is always welcome
And sun shine all year round and wild birds sing
But I know of a Country green and wetter
Which goes to prove you can't have everything.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Song Of Slaves In The Desert
WHERE are we going? where are we going,
Where are we going, Rubee?
Lord of peoples, lord of lands,
Look across these shining sands,
Through the furnace of the noon,
Through the white light of the moon.
Strong the Ghiblee wind is blowing,
Strange and large the world is growing!
Speak and tell us where we are going,
Where are we going, Rubee?
Bornou land was rich and good,
Wells of water, fields of food,
Dourra fields, and bloom of bean,
And the palm-tree cool and green:
Bornou land we see no longer,
Here we thirst and here we hunger,
Here the Moor-man smites in anger:
Where are we going, Rubee?
When we went from Bornou land,
We were like the leaves and sand,
We were many, we are few;
Life has one, and death has two:
Whitened bones our path are showing,
Thou All-seeing, thou All-knowing!
Hear us, tell us, where are we going,
Where are we going, Rubee?
Moons of marches from our eyes
Bornou land behind us lies;
Stranger round us day by day
Bends the desert circle gray;
Wild the waves of sand are flowing,
Hot the winds above them blowing, —
Lord of all things! where are we going?
Where are we going, Rubee?
We are weak, but Thou art strong.;
Short our lives, but Thine is long;
We are blind, but Thou hast eyes;
We are fools, but Thou art wise!
Thou, our morrow's pathway knowing
Through the strange world round us growing,
Hear us, tell us where are we going,
Where are we going, Rubee?
poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
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Laurels Of Green
Trees filled with starlight
Wise rivers in the root of life
Cedar leaves banners of Solomon
White pine laugh with the elves
Poems of the ancient sequoias
Whispering forests by the sea
We are the fallen race of men
They have not been banished
They are free with no guilt or shame
They know no war like strife of man
They speak of the fire from above
We walk softly on velvet moss
Wild flowers, apple orchards, ferns
My darling have you heard?
Lets go out tonight in the moonlight
Blueberries grow free and wild
Eagles filled with grace and joy
Oak and basswood, grapevines
The grass awaits the savory rain
Solitude walks in the morning dew
Have you seen the magic islands?
Decorated with lavish palm trees
Coconuts, pineapples, breadfruit grow
Sandy beaches lit with tropic sun
Volcanoes rise like spires of mystery
Paradise by a sea of green blue dreams
Beads of seeds with spells of shamans
A crown of green that rules the night
Hear tides crash into the mountains side
Rain forests with tendrils of Eden
Tread on bareback mountains gloom
Where winds sing pure and free
Steep as love near precipitous gorges
Beauty walks amidst clouds and rainbows
Waterfalls fill with pristine melting snow
Streams feed the rivers of unyielding myth
Forests of shining green fill the valley
Stars glisten through the pines of night
Like ancient eyes that guard the earth
This land is filled with a mystic glow
Lovers of the great father sun
Old like legends of gnomes and moonbeams
No guile or pretense no masks to wear
Violets, peonies, orchids and the rose
Lilies on ponds and fields
Graced with the voice of song birds
Breezes in your hair of gold
Tales of the winds of old
When the trees ruled in gentle peace
Lovers need the laurels of green
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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Songs Of The Sky
In a sky of layered clouds,
dawn becomes a rainbow,
moving through the spectrum
toward the day.
In a sky of always blue,
no clouds ride the wind:
the sun burns brightly,
high and hot and long.
In a sky of may grays,
clouds crash, explode and roar;
rain-filled winds sweep across the prairie.
In a sky of many blues,
clouds dance on the wind;
and endless and quixotic
Rohrschach test.
In a sky of always gray,
no clouds seem to move;
overcast blots out imagination.
In a sky of cold, cold blue,
gray clouds scrape the treetops;
harbingers of winter storms to come.
Beneath a sky of darkening gray,
the prairie grasses rustle
on the small, forgotten farms
of what could've been
and was.
In a sky of mottled gray,
cold rains fall, now and then;
the seasons struggle
for control of April.
In a sky of broken gray,
cold winds precede the rains;
and before long
the darkened clouds re-gather.
In a sky as clear as glass,
and blue from top to bottom,
sultry days of August
slowly drift into September.
In a twi-lit noon-time sky,
this annular eclipse
leaves us just a
ring around the moon.
In a sky of many clouds,
sunset's an inferno;
ablaze, in this,
my father's final twilight.
In a sky that slowly burns,
the clouds of fire fade
and leave a darker beauty
to hold the night.
poem by William Kruse
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Color Blind
Everyday seemed to be rainy,
I just woke up to see the gray clouds on my window,
the birds didn't illuminate my mornings with their beautiful melody anymore,
I couldn't see more colors than black gray and white.
One day I woke up after having a colorful dream,
I could see more than gray,
I realized I was a color blind before,
because I noticed that after that rain and clouds,
there has always been a rainbow for me,
so I was color blind not to notice that colorful rainbow before,
but, they say that you can't see a rainbow without rain
My rain was just a wall not to see that beautiful rainbow,
now it has dissappeared,
I'm not a color blind anymore,
Now standing in front of my window,
I can see a bautiful bird red and blue looking for flowers,
Flowers violet and pink standing on the ground,
the beautiful green of trees and plants,
and the splendid blue of my new sky,
one of them I can't name it,
is so unique so special,
I think I'll call it...
Love....
poem by Ana Lia Zaldivar
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The Spaniards' Graves
O sailors, did sweet eyes look after you
The day you sailed away from sunny Spain?
Bright eyes that followed fading ship and crew,
Melting in tender rain?
Did no one dream of that drear night to be,
Wild with the wind, fierce with the stinging snow,
When on yon granite point that frets the sea,
The ship met her death-blow?
Fifty long years ago these sailors died:
(None know how many sleep beneath the waves)
Fourteen gray headstones, rising side by side,
Point out their nameless graves,-
Lonely, unknown, deserted, but for me,
And the wild birds that flit with mournful cry,
And sadder winds, and voices of the sea
That moans perpetually.
Wives, mothers, maidens, wistfully, in vain
Questioned the distance for the yearning sail,
That leaning landward, should have stretched again
White arms wide on the gale,
To bring back their beloved. Year by year,
Weary they watched, till youth and beauty passed,
And lustrous eyes grew dim and age drew near,
And hope was dead at last.
Still summer broods o'er that delicious land,
Rich, fragrant, warm with skies of golden glow:
Live any yet of that forsaken band
Who loved so long ago?
Spanish women, over the far seas,
Could I but show you where your dead repose!
Could I send tidings on this northern breeze
That strong and steady blows!
Dear dark-eyed sisters, you remember yet
These you have lost, but you can never know
One stands at their bleak graves whose eyes are wet
With thinking of your woe!
poem by Celia Thaxter
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Teardrops & Rainbows
When sorrow comes into our lives
and tears of sadness fall,
they never go unnoticed,
God sees them one and all.
Our tears are very precious
In the eyes of our dear Lord,
He calls them up into the clouds
where they are safely stored.
When clouds are heavy laden
from the weight which they contain,
they release the stored up moisture
and our tears are in the rain.
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Then when the rain has ended,
look to the sky above.
and when you see a rainbow
God is sending you His love.
Put all faith and trust in Him
and be comforted to know,
time will mend your broken heart
and bring a bright rainbow.
poem by Ron Tranmer
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Don't Let Go
When brief day fades
and darkness fills your life,
don't let go.
In this sad land
when cold rain falls
and winter winds strip bare
the green summer trees,
hold fast my strong hand!
In the gray world
when clouds conceal
blithe stars, and even
the brightening
moon has
failed,
don't ever let go!
poem by Steven Federle
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Rain To Beautiful Colors
Rain thousands of drops falling
Like tears of sadness
Showering down like grains of salt being poured
Or the sands of an hour glass
The grass, dirt and plants desire it
People we dismiss it with hatred
Fills our river, creeks and lakes
Makes a muddy mess in our houses
We sing songs to make come and go
The smell of fresh rain is fishy
But a pleasant scent later on
The brown plants turn to green
The rain and the sun makes them grow
Thunder rolls thru the sky like bowling alleys
The lighting give a beautiful light show, sometimes scary
But we all watch it from inside
Storms move quickly, some violent a lot not
We watch big eyes like children in a candy storm
Rain comes and goes, but the world needs its so
Why do we hate it so much,
To make our day gloomy and gray
When really its colorful and beautiful
The big rainbow that is in the sky
Beautiful rain bring lovely colors of life
poem by Michael Peterson
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A Little Bit Of Green (take 1)
Now that the truth is hard to face
I can't forget you once were mine
Someone else is in my place
Whenever we meet my heart beats out of time
Just a little bit of green
Clouds my eyes to what I've seen
Just a little bit of green
When I see you with someone new
And knowing that there's nothing I can do
Please don't try to tie me down
Those are the words you often say
I can't help seeing you around
You smile with surprise, I turn my eyes away
Just a little bit of green
Oh-oh-ho, clouds my eyes to what I've seen
Just a little bit of green
When I see you with someone new
And knowing that there's nothing I can do
Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh
Just a little bit of green
Oh-oh-ho, clouds my eyes to what I've seen
Just a little bit of green
When I see you with someone new
And knowing that there's nothing I can do
Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh
Just a little bit of green
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Clouds Shall Pass
I see clouds
Whitish and feathery
Cotton white and feathery
Dark clouds, winds gather,
Winds howl, winds sweep the sky
Sun shines, coloured rainbow bows
little rain spatters, clouds,
Clouds shall clear, the sun winks.
poem by Charles Jagongo Ogola
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Green Leaves and Sere
Three tall poplars beside the pool
Shiver and moan in the gusty blast,
The carded clouds are blown like wool,
And the yellowing leaves fly thick and fast.
The leaves, now driven before the blast,
Now flung by fits on the curdling pool,
Are tossed heaven-high and dropped at last
As if at the whim of a jabbering fool.
O leaves, once rustling green and cool!
Two met here where one moans aghast
With wild heart heaving towards the past:
Three tall poplars beside the pool.
poem by Mathilde Blind
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The Pure in Heart Shall See God
They shall see Him in the crimson flush
Of morning's early light,
In the drapery of sunset,
Around the couch of night.
When the clouds drop down their fatness,
In late and early rain,
They shall see His glorious footprints
On valley, hill and plain.
They shall see Him when the cyclone
Breathes terror through the land;
They shall see Him 'mid the murmurs
Of zephyrs soft and bland.
They shall see Him when the lips of health,
Breath vigor through each nerve,
When pestilence clasps hands with death,
His purposes to serve.
They shall see Him when the trembling earth
Is rocking to and fro;
They shall see Him in the order
The seasons come and go.
They shall see Him when the storms of war
Sweep wildly through the land;
When peace descends like gentle dew
They still shall see His hand.
They shall see Him in the city
Of gems and pearls of light,
They shall see Him in his beauty,
And walk with Him in white.
To living founts their feet shall tend,
And Christ shall be their guide,
Beloved of God, their rest shall be
In safety by His side.
poem by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
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The Real Enemy...
it is not late
the wind finally knows its enemy
it was not the tree that it uprooted in one of its storms
not the clouds that it had blown with rage
not the sea whose waves it tumbled in a tsunami
not even the boats it sank
not pitying the passengers and crew who were swallowed
its whirlpools have been wrong
upon itself it must know
its winds its own storms
its enemies all
at the
end.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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