It Blows A Snowing Gale
IT blows a snowing gale in the winter of the year;
The boats are on the sea and the crews are on the pier.
The needle of the vane, it is veering to and fro,
A flash of sun is on the veering of the vane.
Autumn leaves and rain,
The passion of the gale.
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
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Related quotes
George Edmunds' Song
Autumn leaves, autumn leaves, lie strewn around he here;
Autumn leaves, autumn leaves, how sad, how cold, how drear!
How like the hopes of childhood's day,
Thick clust'ring on the bough!
How like those hopes in their decay-
How faded are they now!
Autumn leaves, autumn leaves, lie strewn around me here;
Autumn leaves, autumn leaves, how sad, how cold, how drear!
Wither'd leaves, wither'd leaves, that fly before the gale:
Withered leaves, withered leaves, ye tell a mournful tale,
Of love once true, and friends once kind,
And happy moments fled:
Dispersed by every breath of wind,
Forgotten, changed, or dead!
Autumn leaves, autumn leaves, lie strewn around me here!
Autumn leaves, autumn leaves, how sad, how cold, how drear!
poem by Charles Dickens
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Thanks For Christmas
Thanks for christmas,
Thank you for the love and happiness thats snowing down,
All around.
Thanks for christmas,
Thank you for the winter friendliness thats snowing down,
All around the world.
Its nearer,
Childrens eyes shine clearer now,
As they decorate the trees,
All across the seven seas.
Its nearer,
Yule log fires burn clearer now,
In the winters frosty air,
Sing with us and we can share our...
Thanks for christmas,
Thank you for the love and happiness thats snowing down,
All around.
Thanks for christmas,
Thank you for the winter friendliness thats snowing down,
All around the world.
Its dawning,
Santas reindeer yawning now,
All their festive work is done,
Filling houses up with fun.
Its dawning,
Here is christmas morning now,
Greatest day of all the year,
Listen out and you will hear our...
Thanks for christmas,
Thank you for the love and happiness thats snowing down,
All around.
Thanks for christmas,
Thank you for the winter friendliness thats snowing down,
All around the world.
Its such a shame its only one day every year,
Three hundred and sixty-four days full of doubts and fear
Youve been saving your love up,
Let it out,
cause christmas is here.
Thanks for christmas,
Thank you for the love and happiness thats snowing down,
All around.
Thanks for christmas,
Thank you for the winter friendliness thats snowing down,
All around the world.
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Am The Wind Vane (Tuanortsa)
I am the wind vane.
I depend on the wind
To turn.
It is my energy.
I need what wind gives
To be me.
I am the wind vane.
I am the wind vane.
To be me
I need what wind gives;
It is my energy.
To turn,
I depend on the wind.
I am the wind vane.
Copyright ©2010 Leslie Alexis
poem by Leslie Alexis
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Thorkild’s Song
There´s no wind along these seas,
Out oars for Stavanger!
Forward all for Stavanger!
So we must wake the white-ash breeze.
Let fall for Stavanger!
A long pull for Stavanger!
Oh, hear the benches creak and strain!
(A long pull for Stavanger!)
She thinks she smells the Northland rain!
(A long pull for Stavanger !)
She thinks she smells the Northland snow,
And she's as glad as we to go.
She thinks she smells the Northland rime,
And the dear dark nights of winter-time.
She wants to be at her own home pier,
To shift her sails and standing gear.
She wants to be in her winter-shed,
To strip herself and go to bed.
Her very bolts are sick for shore,
And we—we want it ten times more!
So all you Gods that love brave men,
Send us a three-reef gale again!
Send us a gale, and watch us come,
With closecropped canvas slashing home!
But—there’s no wind on all these seas,
A long pull for Stavanger!
So we must wake the white-ash breeze,
A long pull for Stavanger!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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The Thorkild's Song
There's no wind along these seas,
Out oars for Stavenger!
Forward all for Stavenger!
So we must wake the white-ash breeze,
Let fall for Stavenger!
A long pull for Stavenger!
Oh, hear the benches creak and strain!
(A long pull for Stavenger!)
She thinks she smells the Northland rain!
(A long pull for Stavenger!)
She thinks she smells the Northland snow,
And she's as glad as we to go,
She thinks she smells the Northland rime,
And the dear dark nights of winter-time.
She wants to be at her own home pier,
To shift her sails and standing gear.
She wants to be in her winter-shed,
To strip herself and go to bed,
Her very bolts are sick for shore,
And we-we want it ten times more!
So all you Gods that love brave men,
Send us a three-reef gale again!
Send us a gale, and watch us come,
With close-cropped canvas slashing home!
But--there's no wind on all these seas,
A long pull for Stavenger!
So we must wake the white-ash breeze,
A long pull for Stavenger!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Four seasons in one day
Four seasons in one day
Rain and hail
Icy winter gale
Sunshine and warmth
Summer is on the horizon
Wind that blows
Air that moves leaves
On the trees
Four seasons in one day
Birth of a magus
Birth of a prince
The sky is full of clouds
That look like monsters
The roads are paved with ice
The sky is falling
The frogs outside the window
Ever faithful on this spring eve
While the men of the priestess
Roam and hunt
In search of themselves
Alone at night
As she is
Alone
Isolated
Unhappy
Afraid.
15th november2006
poem by Black Panther Eyes Eastick
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On Wenlock Edge The Wood's In Trouble
On Wenlock Edge the wood's in trouble;
His forest fleece the Wrekin heaves;
The gale, it plies the saplings double,
And thick on Severn snow the leaves.
'Twould blow like this through holt and hanger
When Uricon the city stood;
'Tis the old wind in the old anger,
But then it threshed another wood.
Then, 'twas before my time, the Roman
At yonder heaving hill would stare;
The blood that warms an English yeoman,
The thoughts that hurt him, they were there.
There, like the wind through woods in riot,
Through him the gale of life blew high;
The tree of man was never quiet:
Then 'twas the Roman, now 'tis I.
The gale, it plies the saplings double,
It blows so hard, 'twill soon be gone:
Today the Roman and his trouble
Are ashes under Uricon.
poem by Alfred Edward Housman
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Autumn’s Glow
There is something about autumn
That brings out such earthiness
Gold leaves adorn bushes and trees
Like an artist with a brilliant brush
Once the leaves dry on the trees
Then the wind begins to blow
It’s a special time of year for me
Because I love autumn so
The cold dry air it seems
Prepare the leaves to fall
Mother Nature’s special time
Yes, it’s the best of all
What a dazzling way to end
The year as winter nears
The way leaves let loose
And dropp like nature’s tears
Oh yes, I love those golden days
Dreamy with autumn’s glow
It makes me smile because I do
Love the season of autumn so!
poem by Marilyn Lott
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Life Is Lovely All the Year
When the buds are blossoming,
Smiling welcome to the spring,
Lovers choose a wedding day -
Life is love in merry May!
Spring is green - Fal lal la!
Summer's rose - Fal lal la!
It is sad when Summer goes,
Fal la!
Autumn's gold - Fal lal la!
Winter's grey - Fal lal la!
Winter still is far away -
Fal la!
Leaves in Autumn fade and fall;
Winter is the end of all.
Spring and summer teem with glee:
Spring and summer, then, for me!
Fal la!
In the Spring-time seed is sown:
In the Summer grass is mown:
In the Autumn you may reap:
Winter is the time for sleep.
Spring is hope - Fal lal la!
Summer's joy - Fal lal la!
Spring and Summer never cloy,
Fal la!
Autumn, toil - Fal lal la!
Winter, rest - Fal lal la!
Winter, after all, is best -
Fal la!
Spring and summer pleasure you,
Autumn, ay, and winter, too -
Every season has its cheer;
Life is lovely all the year!
Fal la!
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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Storm at Sausalito
Sailboats lashed to the pier,
ebon masts, dark trees bare
with tightly shrouded canvas sail,
rigging singing in the gale,
pier groaning, grey waves grind
clinging sloops to taut lines,
steel bulwarks rise and fall
against gleaming, cool jetty walls.
poem by Steven Federle
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Icey Holed Fishing!
Five pointed stars of icey snow, Gives
winter lovers a sudden happy glow! Snowballs
fly past heads ever alert, Even large
victim's are felled as well as tiny little
squirts! Of all this comes exclemations of
'Ouch that hurts! ' Snowmen are rolled from
hill to hill, A winter wonderland gives
a thrill and a chill! Ice skating and sleds
litter many the scene, These are colors of
white, but not of blue or green! Fishing is
over for the season, But holes drilled in
ice with poles and bait, is the sportman's
main manly reason! Ice fishing may seem so
cold, But for only the brave and the bold!
Summer's end is not the end, Snow can be
shoveled and moved, and even molded to bend!
11-29-2005'.
Michael Jeffrey Gale
Copyright ©2005 Michael Jeffrey Gale
poem by Michael Gale
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That Year's Autumn Leaves
Darling, do you remember that year’s autumn leaves?
Perhaps it was your aura, but they were the prettiest and keenest I’ve ever seen
Strolling through the park, hand in hand, the foliage crunched lightly under our feet
Such a simple, yet transcendent, treat
That year’s autumn leaves were red and gold
Thinking of them now strikes a pleasant, if somewhat melancholic, chord
The days you walked with me like the Lord
And you were
That year’s autumn leaves and you
Contentedness shared by us two
Harmonic Convergence bestowed on the lucky few
Peace of mind that I knew
Nat King Cole said it best: “Since you went away the days grow long…”
This is evidenced by many of my poems and songs
Many people, sometimes myself, think I should stop, that it’s wrong
The creative outlet, however, is too strong
That year’s autumn leaves were actually summer daze
I just love the original song, and now this unique turn of phrase
Both recall an almost alien phase
Mr. Mercer, I give you all the praise
That year’s autumn leaves were you
They may not have existed, but it’s a metaphor any romantic would die for
I would
Would you?
That year’s autumn leaves were the best autumn has ever produced
At least until we walk in the park in the fall again…or whenever you choose
poem by Yoni Assis
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Greeting Us With A New Surprise
After the March winds
we have the April rain.
Now in May we watch
the pretty flows grow.
June, July and August
are the flowering seasons
at the height of the noonday’s sun.
September brings the autumn leaves
near the closing of the year.
October seems to bear all
as the autumn leaves begin to fall.
November brings a chill
to every living thing
announcing winter is on its way.
December’s snow blankets
the hard frozen ground.
January brings in a new year
to February’s valentines.
And so each moth rolls by,
each greeting us with a new surprise.
23-24 May 2008
poem by David Harris
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To The Outside Guy
from here
we have the intentions
of telling you about ourselves
you do not see us
in this place
there is no winter here
we have never felt ice
there is no autumn
we never see the sadness of the
leaves falling
we either have rain
or shine
it is only them
who tells us that this is our
paradise lost
we wish for something else
on sad faces
as said the far pastures are
always greener
i've been to places
and this i tell them
this is where i belong
this is here where home is
where there is no winter
neither autumn
but just rain or shine
you are wrong
we have no regrets
neither are we
envious about
skis and
snow balls
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Still women love men
Wind in spring blows;
Petals wither.
Wind in summer blows;
Fruits fall down.
Wind in autumn blows;
Leaves are shed.
Wind in winter blows;
Barks get cracks.
Still trees love wind.
Still women love men.
27.10.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Tattoo
In this autumn storm, and this loneliness,
I would tattoo your face to my body; and at
every long night, autumn leaves will fall,
reminding me to write my 'pastorals'
and the serene skies above me, will
calm my ridiculous consuming passion,
the passion that makes my path misty and
foggy; is my body so weary, that your face no
longer is visible; its faded away the tattoo
of your face. When autumn rain falls I’ll
pick my chestnut leaves thinking you are there
to help.
poem by Elenushka Toledo
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Golden Rain
Summer gleams in heated rays,
across the shimmering plain.
Awaiting autumn's cooling breeze,
when leaves fall ~ like golden rain.
Rows and rows of harvest lay,
a bounty's sweet repose.
Fate sealed by the reaper's hand,
when the wind of autumn blows.
Shaded with a timeless hue,
day sings sweet summer's refrain.
Awaiting autumn's cooling breeze,
when leaves fall ~ like golden rain.
Fiery flame of sun ~ now set
upon fields of summery bliss,
below horizons pinkly lit ~
by summer's parting kiss.
How fair those days of summer now.
Its warmth will not remain.
How soon the autumn ~ will take its place,
when leaves fall ~ like golden rain.
poem by Hazelmarie Elliott
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Messiah
From another place,
one seed
fell here,
on the edge of this hill.
This now-tall spreading
knew no surrender
No other measured
this steely purpose,
this was no war of proof
but your sure
becoming,
in isolation
from their gusty winds
and now you bend with the gale which blows
and your needle shower
scourges the bare blasted Scottish rock
and solitary pine,
you know the strange happiness
of your desolate home
and I know that
I shall come again...
poem by Raimi Stranger
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Laag ja Gale Tu..
ROMENTIC POEM-
Laag ja Gale Tu, Meel ke khoJa kaHi Tu...
Laag ja Gale Tu...
Ruk na Na mEre DiL a SambhaLja jaRa, feesaL Na kabhI Tu Auro Pe kabhI.
Hey Naadan Tu Hey Bada Maan chala, Tu Behek NA Jana U Ruthe k kabhI,
Laag Ja Gale tu..Ruk na Na mEre DIL a sambhaLja jara
Pehlu to Har Labaz me Sama jate Hey.
tu mere Aagosh me samaja..A DIL sambhalja.
pyar to ibadad hey jo meelati hey DILO Ko..
tera intzar bhi karke bethe hey kabse..
Na tum aye na tumri parchi bhi..
LOOT tu aaja jara...Ruk na Na mere dil a sambhalja jara
Laag ja Gale Tu, meeL ke khoja kahi Tu...
Laag ja Gale tu...
Ruk na Na mere dil a sambhalja jara...
poem by Sandeep Jahaal
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After the Rain
THE rain has ceased, and in my room
The sunshine pours an airy flood;
And on the church's dizzy vane
The ancient cross is bathed in blood.
From out the dripping ivy leaves,
Antiquely carven, gray and high,
A dormer, facing westward, looks
Upon the village like an eye.
And now it glimmers in the sun,
A globe of gold, a disk, a speck;
And in the belfry sits a dove
With purple ripples on her neck.
poem by Thomas Bailey Aldrich
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