Summer's Day
blue sky, golden plain,
fading hills filled with light -
with summer’s living flame.
poem by Steven Federle
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The Wife
Living, I had no might
To make you hear,
Now, in the inmost night,
I am so near
No whisper, falling light,
Divides us, dear.
Living, I had no claim
On your great hours.
Now the thin candle-flame,
The closing flowers,
Wed summer with my name, --
And these are ours.
Your shadow on the dust,
Strength, and a cry,
Delight, despair, mistrust, --
All these am I.
Dawn, and the far hills thrust
To a far sky.
Living, I had no skill
To stay your tread,
Now all that was my will
Silence has said.
We are one for good and ill
Since I am dead.
poem by Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
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To A Cricket
Voice of summer, keen and shrill,
Chirping round my winter fire,
Of thy song I never tire,
Weary others as they will,
For thy song with summer's filled -
Filled with sunshine, filled with June;
Firelight echo of that noon
Heard in fields when all is stilled
In the golden light of May,
Bringing scents of new-mown hay,
Bees, and birds, and flowers away,
Prithee, haunt my fireside still,
Voice of summer, keen and shrill.
poem by William Cox Bennett
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Summer Light...
Summer Light -Thru the Trees
Summer Light - Spotted Me
Summer Light - Palest Gold
Summer Light - Bright and Bold
I Saw Summer Light Descend
Summer Light, Made Shadows Bend
Summer Light, On An Emerald Pond
I Reached Out… It Touched My Palm
Summer Light, It Fell Like Powder
Or a Floating Incandescent Feather
Came Down, Like A Sheer, White Swan
Summer Light – Lifted Wing-Like Arms
So Sunrays Slanted – Shone-Misty
Summer Light-Beams, Embraced Me
Warm, Wonderful Summer Light
Touch Me Tender, Solar- Might
Summer Light, When I Was Lost
Summer Light, Found Me Before Frost
Summer Light - None Else Looked For Me…
Summer Light Said, “I Always See…”
I Love Summer Light
poem by MoonBee Canady
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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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In Light of the Sinking Sun
An empty chair
A quiet room
In light of the moons full glare.
A sleeping man
A cell of stone
In light of the moons full glare.
A dark hall
A silent porch
In light of the moons full glare.
Flickering light
Buzzing flies
In light of the moons full glare.
The man awakes
Stifles a moan
In light of the fading moon.
Shuffling feet
Dangling keys
In light of the fading moon.
The door opens
The man hauled out
In light of the fading moon.
Straps are tightened
Machine turned on
In light of the fading moon.
A button pushed
A scream of pain
In light of the fading moon.
A blackened body
Smoke-filled room
In light of the fading moon.
Six foot hole
Dug in the woods
In light of the fading moon.
The headstone in
The words are said
In light of the rising sun.
The next man sits
Upon that chair
In light of the rising sun.
Poor old man,
Dealt the hand
In light of the rising sun.
Dealt the hand,
The blow of power
In light of the rising sun.
An evil laugh
A blackened body
In light of the rising sun.
The executioner stands
By a silent chair
In light of the sinking sun.
poem by Samantha Jo
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Blue Summer
blue summer
outside sun is shinning to it’s height
children playing water games
down the street dogs playing same
blue summer, alone the most i have been
afternoon sunsets are great
yellow, orange and blue
but none greater without you
blue summer. i wish you are here
blue summer night
a brisk of hot air from dusks leftovers
sitting by the window, nothing to do
but think of you, and no other just you
blue summer, here i lay
with cold iced tea
a toss to you, conversing imaginarily
take my hand make this cold
blue summer day away from me
blue summer, alone the most I have been
poem by Azmayu Azmayu
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Mid Summer Beauty
Thou blossomed into a true beauty that summer.
Thy hair grew more golden as the summer progressed.
Thy eyes, took on the deep blue of the summer sky,
and thy complextion, as soft as a summer cloud.
Oh! How I hope for thee,
that thy bright summer sky-blue eyes like glowing sapphires,
be not be dim,
like a dark cloud passed over the sun.
For truly, thou are a mid summer beauty.
poem by Laura Nnamdi
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Sunset And Fog, Suisun Valley
blue haze
fast fading day
cut-paper ridges,
saw-tooth hills
scrape raw
the black maw
of space,
while pockets of fog
narrow valleys fill;
milk
for giants
in these sun-
set hills.
poem by Steven Federle
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I Remember the Snows in the Summer's Light
I remember the snows in the summer's light
Thinking of winter in summer;
When I see the blue, I see white;
I see the fume over roofs so bright,
Feel the warm air caressed by azure,
I remember the snows in the summer's light.
Summers are lazy in my inner sight,
Winters, lazy on the outside, are sure to secure
The blue when I sense the cold of white.
Winter takes me on a summer's flight
To visit the summer and endure
Snows and remember the light.
Perhaps I like spring and fall best,
But winter is spring in summer to allure
Me to feel the fall and see blue in white.
I keep remembering, seeing the bright;
Everything is just a thought you conjure;
I always remember the snows hiding in the light;
When I see the blue, I also see the white.
poem by Dejan Stojanovic
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Golden Age
All the screens are filled with heroes and losers
but the sky's still filled with stars
this junky palace might be on fire
til the winners lose desire
let it go let it go.
So tell me what you see
tell me what you hear
if it's the same as me it's the golden age.
Big brother tries to stitch and bend
but channel surfers find new friends
see freedom's silhouette increase
its time to claim that sweet release
let it go let it go.
I can see a purple patch of jacaranda
framed in eucalypt from this wooden floored verandah
heading past the watermark
heading for the hills
heading for the edge of time
heading for the thrills of the golden age.
Now tell me what you see
and tell me what you hear
if it's the same as me it's the golden age.
Now everybody's talking about the golden age.
song performed by by Midnight Oil
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In Flanders
I'm homesick for my hills again -
My hills again!
To see above the Severn plain,
Unscabbarded against the sky,
The blue high blade of Cotswold lie;
The giant clouds go royally
By jagged Malvern with a train
Of shadows. Where the land is low
Like a huge imprisoning O
I hear a heart that's sound and high,
I hear the heart within me cry:
'I'm homesick for my hills again -
My hills again!
Cotswold or Malvern, sun or rain!
My hills again!'
poem by Frederick William Harvey
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Summer Days of Yesteryear
We often live surveying the past
as a summer season comes around,
and selecting the days of living freely
in our memory will be found.
We scrutinize the events of other Summers
experiencing great pleasure and delight
that once we knew when we were just
youngsters when life seemed to be all right.
Through the fading days of yesteryear
we filled our life with many dreams.
From childhood days to adulthood days
it was just a natural step it seems.
We miss the thrills that once was ours
the days we felt were always free.
We live it over each Summer time
and always remains a pleasant memory.
Too swiftly is the flight of time,
Though plentiful be the exuberant ways
that lead us down memory lane
to the scenes of other Summer days.
Though another Summer season shall end,
One wish for all of you we hold
May Summer always bring an abundance
of joy and memories a hundred fold.
poem by Joseph T. Renaldi
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Days Filled With Colour
Days fill with colour
As the dawn breaks on another day
Clear skys, not a cloud in the sky
Vibrant blue skys
Warmth fills the air from a winter sun
A gleaming shape floats by
Colours catch my eye
Parrots all the colours of a rainbow
Chatting all day about whatever
Maybe it is laughter
Happiness
Freedom in the winter skys
Parrots all the colours of a rainbow
Vibrant blue skys, fill my day
Colours of winter in the country
Hills filled with colour
Green hills soon to be colourful crops
Winter storms colour the hills with ice
Warm air from a winter sun
Colours your day
I see things differently now
No city skys filled with doom and gloom
No buildings cramped into one corner
Open spaces, trees, all filled with colour
Fill my day with happiness
Now I take the time to listen to nature
My heart is crammed with excitement
Everything now a new experience
Colourful parrots
Vibrant blue skys
The warmth of the sun
poem by Batibchar Mocculta
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A Most Welcome Summer
Spring bid her adieus...
With but one more teary rain;
The following day each window-
Was already pulsing with hints of summer;
Outside the dust swirled in golden tipped eddies...
While the sunlight fanned itself out like wings;
In this heat our love was filled to capacity-
With a tender longing and vibrant patience;
As the sun shimmied and fanned itself out...
It folded itself like a blanket at high noon;
Our summer love simply just sizzled...
Brillant in its promise-
Under the firmaments baby blue...
Today i am remembering all my Summer days spent with you;
The Essence
July,2010
poem by Theodora Onken
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Golden Autumn Day
Well I heard the bells ringing, I was thinking about winning
In this God forsaken place
When my confidence was well, then I tripped and I felt
Right flat on my face
Now Im standing erect, and I feel like coming back
And the sun is shining gold
Put a smile on my face, get back in the human race
And get on with the show
And Im taking in the indian summer
And Im soaking it up in my mind
And Im pretending that its paradise
On a golden autumn day, on a golden autumn day
On a golden autumn day, an a golden autumn day
In the wee midnight hour I was parking my car
In this dimly lit town,
I was attacked by two thugs, who took me for a mug
And shoved me down on the ground
And they pulled out a knife, and I fought my way up
As they scarpered from the scene
Well this is no new york street, and theres no bobby on the beat
And things aint just what they seem
And Im taking in the indian summer
And Im soaking it up in my mind
And Im pretending that its paradise
On a golden autumn day, on a golden autumn day
On a golden autumn day, an a golden autumn day
Who would think this could happen in a city like this
Among blakes green and pleasant hills,
And we must remember as we go through september
Among these dark satanic mills
If theres such a thing as justice I could take them out and flog them
In the nearest green field
And it might be a lesson to the bleeders of the system
In this whole society
And Im taking in the indian summer
And Im soaking it up in my mind
And Im pretending like its paradise
On a golden autumn day, on a golden autumn day
On a golden autumn day, on a golden autumn day, golden autumn day ...
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Changing Light
The changing light
at San Francisco
is none of your East Coast light
none of your
pearly light of Paris
The light of San Francisco
is a sea light
an island light
And the light of fog
blanketing the hills
drifting in at night
through the Golden Gate
to lie on the city at dawn
And then the halcyon late mornings
after the fog burns off
and the sun paints white houses
with the sea light of Greece
with sharp clean shadows
making the town look like
it had just been painted
But the wind comes up at four o'clock
s weeping the hills
And then the veil of light of early evening
And then another scrim
when the new night fog
floats in
And in that vale of light
the city drifts
anchorless upon the ocean
poem by Lawrence Ferlinghetti
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Fallen Ones
Born on the edge of a borderline
Born on the edge of a borderline
In the simmering summer of sweet blue fire
In the simmering summer of sweet blue fire
Now you walk on the cold cold wind
Now you walk on the cold cold wind
Nothing left of your light
Nothing left of your light
The living sun just falls away leaving only day ~ day for night
The living sun just falls away leaving only day ~ day for night
Again and again the comrades fall
Again and again the comrades fall
The tears roll down and the wounded crawl
The tears roll down and the wounded crawl
In this heartless crazy world the wounds just burn like fire
In this heartless crazy world the wounds just burn like fire
Light a light for the fallen ones
Light a light for the fallen ones
Light a light and hold it ~ hold it high
Light a light and hold it ~ hold it high
Your burning star turned to midnight sun
Your burning star turned to midnight sun
I will stay alive for the fallen ones
I will stay alive for the fallen ones
Dancing with the smoke of your devastated flame
Dancing with the smoke of your devastated flame
Dancing with the smoke dancing with the rain
Dancing with the smoke dancing with the rain
So cold being here again
So cold being here again
So I call your name ~ I call ~ I call your name
So I call your name ~ I call ~ I call your name
song performed by by Heart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sunrise Sunset Unexplained Splendour
SUNRISE SUNSET UNEXPLAINED SPLENDOUR
From the clouds we do see,
The changes so blissfully.
My soul dwelled this hour,
Like an opening flower.
As I understood the place,
While facing my appointed race.
It seemed carpeted with peace,
And mother earth seemed at ease.
The moment awaited me
My heart reached out with glee
Everything seemed so bright,
The world filled with natural light.
As I floated from above,
Filled my heart, like an only love.
Heavens feeling as it pleases,
Like sailing the seven seas.
The golden ball displays,
And earth faces another phase.
Nature’s lamp and its dear light,
Strays gradually out of sight.
Under these dying pale shades
Our minds now do take a laid.
T’was a beauty with blue n green,
Breath taking like a magazine!
The courteous lights with its flame,
Sunrise, Sunset it’s gonna be a happy game!
Shirani Ibrahim
poem by Shirani Ibrahim
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The Master Artist
I watched a sunset one lovely
summer day. I watched as
the sun went slowly away.
Leaving behind colors of gorgeous
hue, shining there on the
sky so blue.
Watching the sunset that summer day
made me realize that along my way,
God makes His greatness plain in his own way,
Like sunsets, flowers and trees, winding rivers, deep blue seas,
silvery moon and twinkling stars.
All of these more lovely by far than any human could make them.
Scenes so beautiful no artist could paint,
to create such beauty, human being just can't.
For God is the artist, the master,
you see, creating such a beauty for you and me.
Autumn's Invitation Autumn is in her glory
All dressed in her beautiful ball gown,
Designed in the lovely fall colors
Of hues of red, green, and brown. Autumn is having a party,
All are invited to come
And join in the gay festivities,
Held in the autumn sun. All are invited to walk in gardens
on all the hills and vales,
And enjoy the blaze of vivid
tints and fragrances
On all the hills and dales. She has her sky a clear bright blue,
Her breezes are balmy too,
Making the weather just right
For each guest to enjoy the things they do. So won't you attend her party?
Autumn is inviting you,
Come and enjoy the hospitality
That autumn offers you.
poem by Velma G. Robinson
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On and On
By long leagues of wood and meadow
On and on we drive apace;
In the dreamy light and shadow
Veiling earth's autumnal face.
Rosy clouds are drifting o'er us,
Rooks rise parleying from their tryst,
And the road lies far before us,
Fading into amethyst.
On and on, through leagues of heather,
Deeps of scarlet beaded lane,
Like a pheasant's golden feather
Golden leaves around us rain.
On and on, where woodlands hoary,
In October's lavish fire,
Flame up with unearthly glory,
Beauteous summer's funeral pyre.
On and on, where casements blinking
Lighten into transient gules,
As the dying day in sinking
Splashes all the wayside pools.
On and on; the land grows dimmer,
And our road recedes afar;
While on either hand there glimmer
Setting sun and rising star.
Would I knew what thoughts steal o'er you,
As the long road lengthens yet:
Ah, like hope it winds before you,
And behind me like regret.
poem by Mathilde Blind
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