En.Citatepedia^®.ro

There Is Peace

in an early morning
walk
along a path
winding through
the hillside

just the wind
brushing with the leaves
of trees

and some interfering
cicada cacophony
this hot summer
day

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Rain Is Like A Man

the rain this early morning
has an accompanying wind

i look at them by the window
my inner world divided by a thick glass

the trees are swaying and some leaves
begin to fall like some kind of a dance

the rain like a man carries the wind
on his arms and the wind leans down

i catch a glimpse of how they passionately kiss
it is sad and lonely and then the rain stops

the morning sun comes and the leaves
are at the feet of the trees kind of wet with tears.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Early Morning Walk

the night is gone
the rains stop

to start with
i take a walk

to greet the early
morning with the silence

of my heart to listen
to the songs of birds

high on those trees
as i tread the grass that

covers the path where some
friends used to walk

someone so active has
succumbed to cancer of

the colon the other with
a white beard gave in

to a coronary defect
the old couple still take

their walk here and when
we meet we smile perhaps

thanking the Lord that we
are still here talking

our usual walk on an
early morning waiting for

the sun to shine upon our
weary minds.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I Wonder About The Cicada That You See

i know that this morning
you walk on the park
on a sunny day and it
is, of course, hot

and then you see this cicada
and i wonder if it is
singing
or grumbling
on this very hot sunny day by the park

i wonder if the cicada stares
at you
i wonder if you talk to the cicada
i wonder if
something happens that you
cannot just forget
about the cicada

i wonder if everything is unfinished
images half-printed
i wonder if at all, to whatever we see and feel and
talk about i wonder if
there must be conclusions
i wonder if
we must limit only to our own observations
leave it that way
like a bat hanging on the wall
and then

just that, whether if flies away or drops dead
you say

i do not honestly know and
i have really nothing to say

i like it with you,

something unfinished, and perhaps that is the beauty in you
this suspended suspense
suspenseful till nowhere

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Summer Breeze

a straw hat on my head
dark sunglasses on my eyes
cotton beach shorts
barefoot i walk along the shore
i stop a while
the summer breeze is so cool
early morning
the sea is peaceful
the trees spreading branches
a shower of yellowing leaves
for the passing air
the sun spreads the first rays
a fine morning
a promising day
for you and me

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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One summer when the wind was strong

This is the place, now we are here again

I remember that summer when the wind was strong
And everything around us was dry,

The acacia trees towered and showered us with
Round leaves falling and falling and falling

Some birds were there and they flew away
Some cars were there and they speeded away

It was getting dark and it was a dry summer
We stayed there for a while when the leaves fell

Then we went under the trees not seeking shelter
But to catch those leaves falling and falling and falling

We are trying to feel again what falling was
We are here on this summer, we see the leaves

Falling and falling again to the dry wind,
We try to recall about us, but there is simply

Nothing about us anymore, but just the same
The leaves fall and fall and fall, we see them reenacting

There is that meaning; there it is in the falling
But we have outgrown it, we look for more, we hope

We can find some more, something beyond us.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Tess... Tess

Sad tortured hillside, against
a pastel slate sky;
mute; purple stucco stubble.
Smoking chimney; early morning lit.

Wind blown, lean trees
beautified mystical silver birch;
doors of classrooms; I to enter do not want.
Morning tea; on a wooden bench.

Black top, sexy miniskirt
terracotta pots;
matchbox houses; ghastly trousers.
Leaves sparkling; wind turned.

Smoking crayon, set
against an ash-grey sky;
swirling; blue grey mist.
Toast; vapour steamed.

Dog!
lichen on wild; wall top undisturbed;
man on lawn mower; that win lotto didn't.
Dog!

poem by Terence George Craddock
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Summer's Wind

Be weary, Lord of the summer wind,
Lord of the heat that you blow in,
Away with flowers, land and trees,
To stay them not, least all the trees.
Listen to this, all that I say,
Our land does die, and drift away.
Our living born upon the wind,
All of ours, and those of friends.

So we called upon the leave-filled wind,
The autumn one, of which were friends.
This wind of cool and gentle hand,
Not like the wind that stole our land.
And the heat did melt into the leaves,
And turned them colors from the trees.
Then the leave-filled wind bore them away,
And upon the land, they came to stay.
And stayed them there, till land-hard cold,
And then the land, the leaves they stole.

And after the harsh cold wind had blown,
And living soil again was sown,
Summer's wind came again to prey,
Upon our lands, most every day.
But our living land, the leaves did save,
And the summer's wind did blow away,
Never to re-live, the seasons day.

The cool soft wind now blows so free,
Upon the land, and through the trees.
All through the people, and over me.

poem by Sandra Osborne
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Early In The Morning

Early in the morning and I cant get right
Had a little date with my baby last night
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Now its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to all the places where we used to go
Went to your house but you dont live there no more
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to your friends house but she was out
Knock on your fathers door and he began to shout get out there boy
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to doogie chain to get something to eat
Waiter looked at me and said you sure look beat
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues

song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Rose-Bud By My Early Walk

A Rose-Bud By My Early Walk
A rose-bud, by my early walk
Adown a corn-enclosèd bawk,
Sae gently bent its thorny stalk,
All on a dewy morning.
Ere twice the shades o' dawn are fled,
In a' its crimson glory spread,
And drooping rich the dewy head,
It scents the early morning.

Within the bush her covert nest
A little linnet fondly prest;
The dew sat chilly on her breast,
Sae early in the morning.
She soon shall see her tender brood,
The pride, the pleasure o' the wood,
Amang the fresh green leaves bedew'd,
Awauk the early morning.

So thou, dear bird, young Jeany fair,
On trembling string or vocal air,
Shall sweetly pay the tender care
That tents thy early morning!
So thou, sweet rose-bud, young and gay,
Shalt beauteous blaze upon the day,
And bless the parent's evening ray
That watch'd thy early morning!

poem by Robert Burns
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Fresh

Magical twisted river winding through the land before time
Silhouettes of lovers dancing on the sands
The birds first break of chourus into the morning light
And the first kiss of the sun on trees extracting from them glorious shades of green

Fresh is the kiss of the young lovers as they stand holding hands
Fresh is the morning breeze briskly brushing through their hair
Fresh the first sip of crystal waters scooped lovingly into his hand
Fresh her lips pressed against his in an embrace of innocence

The scent of her more than any man in his lifetime can imagine
His masucline features more than any young girl could resist
As they press themselves closer together entwined they realise
On this first day of forever this is the beginning of time

New love and creation set forth on this day of days
The whole world seemingly new and refreshed with most astounding simplicity
Carefree as the wind they walk together
This is eternity this is the beginning this is the end, this is their time

Fresh is the kiss of the young lovers as they stand holding hands
Fresh is the morning breeze briskly brushing through their hair
Fresh the first sip of crystal waters scooped lovingly into his hand
Fresh her lips pressed against his in an embrace of innocence

poem by Nikki Hays
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Barefoot Days

In the morning, very early,
That's the time I love to go
Barefoot where the fern grows curly
And grass is cool between each toe,
On a summer morning-O!
On a summer morning!

That is when the birds go by
Up the sunny slopes of air,
And each rose has a butterfly
Or a golden bee to wear;
And I am glad in every toe
Such a summer morning-O!
Such a summer morning!

poem by Rachel Field
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A view of spring turning into summer (hybridanelle)

From the time that the first sunlight hit me
I was surrounded by heat like a cocoon
and I saw the clear blue sky and felt free

while the early morning breeze
kissed my cheek
with an early morning freeze

and there were clouds escaping from my mouth that I could see
evaporating like steam or gas from a balloon.
From the time that the first sun light hit me

some dust tickling my nose made me sneeze
and glorious bright rays
kissed my cheek,

buds opened on every plant and tree,
ants marched to and fro like in a platoon
and I saw the clear blue sky and felt free

and I was experiencing days
of spring leading into summer
and glorious bright rays

and nature’s decree
summoning new seasons, made me feel like a tycoon
from the time that the first sunlight hit me

and the wind like a drummer
sweeping through sand, leaves and branches whistling its song
of spring leading into summer

and you my love, had to agree
that an awesome summer would be here soon
and I saw the clear blue sky and felt free

as if this freaky wind was blowing me along,
turned part of me into nature and I saw it
sweeping through sand, leaves and branches whistling its song

and even you were in its spell and we
were both smitten with summer and spring that afternoon.
From the time that the first sunlight hit me
and I saw the clear blue sky and felt free

it was like standing on a high summit
while the early morning breeze,
turned part of me into nature and I saw it
with an early morning freeze.

poem by Gert Strydom
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Last Week of March

School was over,
student rest from hung over
summer is approaching,
sunlight glisten on
frozen asphalt,
I shiver an squint.
It's hot to walk at ease,
benevolence of nature
beams and glimmer,
flowers are deigning,
trees are undressing,
withered leaves are falling
they fling in many places,
on the road,
on the house top,
on the window sill
here and there,
beat by beat.
yellow trees lavishly blooming
like yellow ribbons
and yellow laces.
seasons of summer
fills the heart and soul
with laughter
hot summer will wind
the faves and feelings to unwind.
summer season,
warmest of all seasons.
summer holidays are
the times of our lives
summer, summer
what a season to remember!

poem by Cyrus Diaz
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Whispering Wind

Standing amid the forest trees
I feel so insignificant.
Small and unimportant can be
Very humbling among the plants
And underbrush that are dwarfed by
The regal, deciduous trees.
Quiet is defined by the sigh
Of the wind breathing through the leaves
And serenity thrives beneath
This lushest leaf-green canopy.
I walk along an ancient path
Once tread by aborigines.
Then, out of the blue, the soft wind
Whispered, ” you're home again my friend.”

poem by Albert Ahearn
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On a perfect day

You begin it with a morning walk
Moments of reflection on God’s
Wonders, his creations, an
Early fresh air brushing your hair
Some dews on grass glistening
Some scents on early flower blooms exuding
Some new leaves on the tall trees sprouting

In a while you see the break of dawn
The sun finally breaking out gently
From the crevices of clouds on a wide horizon

Seeing a new light,

Then breakfast with the family
Some prayers to bless simple food
Early morning news, a little talk,
Some crack for jokes,

Then
It is office time
You work, you make judgments
On people’s grievances, they want
Something from you
To be done, swiftly and rightly,
They are thirsty and hungry,
And you have to feed them
Right away, you always think what is
It that is best for all and must
Be done, no matter what,

Then you go back to your home,
You sit on a chair facing yourself
On a mirror for some reflections,
You smile, you are proud, you did
Not yield to the wiles of this world,
You have asserted yourself on some
Principles to no compromises,

You look again at another closing sunset,

Seeing a new promising light,

Then you pray and sleep soundly
Another day has ended again,
Your head rests on a soft pillow
Feeling light like being reborn

Your conscience is clear
There is no stain in your hands
An unblemished heart
Beating for God for humanity

Seeing a new fading light

On such a perfect day…..

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Chilling wind in Summer Night

Nature is most mysterious of its kind
In the summer night, chilling wind
I waked and walked on the terrace
Of the SPA Hostel, a place
Where I usually walk during morning
During the early morning
Or better say late night
I see the sight in the sky
Above so high
Wind is blowing
Incessantly with air gushing
Through the tiny pores of shirt
Touching the tender heart
The wind is chilling but
It doesn't hurt
For it is relief from summer heat
Summer and no more sweating
The weather is of high rating
Change in the moon of nature
The changing nature of the nature
A few hours ago it had rained for a while
The wind was not so strong and agile
Adding to the chill few rain drops fall
Intermittent drizzling occurs
During this late hours
Surrounded by dimming light
Chilling wind in summer night

{Written on 17 April,2012 during my stay at School of Planning and Architecture hostel at New Delhi from a real experience of nature's bounty}

poem by Shashikant Nishant Sharma
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Summer Wind

The summer wind, came blowin' in
From across the sea
It lingered there, to touch you hair
And walk with me
All summer long, we sang a song
And strolled the golden sand
Two sweethearts, and the summer wind
Like painted kites, the days and nights went flyin' by
The world was new, beneath a blue umbrella sky
Then softer than, a piper man one day it called to you
And I lost you, to the summer wind
The autumn wind, and the winter winds have come and gone
And still the days, the lonely days go on and on
And guess who sighs his lullabies through nights that never end
Well my fickle friend, the summer wind
That old summer wind
Talkin' 'bout the summer wind
The summer wind

song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Morning Is Full

The morning is full of storm

in the heart of summer.

The clouds travel like white handkerchiefs of goodbye,

the wind, traveling, waving them in its hands.

The numberless heart of the wind

beating above our loving silence.

Orchestral and divine, resounding among the trees

like a language full of wars and songs.

Wind that bears off the dead leaves with a quick raid

and deflects the pulsing arrows of the birds.

Wind that topples her in a wave without spray

and substance without weight, and leaning fires.

Her mass of kisses breaks and sinks,

assailed in the door of the summer's wind.

(a pablo neruda collection)

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Dreams on the Hillside

Last night I slept beneath the starry skies
Cloudless, warm, with fireflies
A cool summer breeze brushed over me
And crickets chimed harmoniously
And while I lay on the dark hillside
My world lit up and reality died.

In a field of paper flowers did I stand
In a world with no evil, hate, or reprimand
I looked up and saw lavender clouds curling in the sky
And watched the dragons and fairies fly

Candy grew from every tree and
The sun and moon smiled down at me
Spotted butterflies flittered here and there
While fairies placed red flowers in my hair

And blue wind painted white leaves yellow
While looking up at me was a small and happy fellow
And the teal clouds rained down golden drops of morning dew
That glistened on the green fescue*.

Chocolate bunnies hopped by the brook
So I stopped to take a look
And there I met a humble honeybee
Who kindly offered some cookies and tea

The weeping willows began to sway and shift
Causing glitter to spray from every crack and rift
While rainbows filled the blooming skies
With honeycombs that lit up my bright blue eyes.

Unicorns galloped over a distant hillside
And sugary bullfrogs hummed and sighed
On velvety bubbles and candy apple trees
Nimble elves danced atop golden leaves-

But all at once I awoke to the chilly fall air
That nipped at my nose with very little care,
I could not find the flowers or the candy apple trees,
The dragons, the bullfrogs, or the yellow-blue leaves
There I lay on the dark hillside under the starry skies
And found that my dreams had all been lies.

*fescue: type of grass

poem by Ali Vaughan
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For Baby (For Bobbie)

Ill walk in the rain by your side
Ill cling to the warmth of your hand
Ill do anything to keep you satisfied
Ill love you more than anybody can
And the wind will whisper your name to me
Little birds will sing along in time
Leaves will bow down when you walk by
And morning bells will chime
Ill be there when youre feelin down
To kiss away the fears if you cry
Ill share with you all the happiness Ive found
A reflection of the love in your eyes
And Ill sing you the songs of the rainbow
A whisper of the joy that is mine
And leaves will bow down when you walk by
And morning bells will chime
Ill walk in the rain by your side
Ill cling to the warmth of your tiny hand
Ill do anything to help you understand
And Ill love you more than anybody can
And the wind will whisper your name to me
Little birds will sing along in time
Leaves will bow down when you walk by
And morning bells will chime

song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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