The Waiting
The fields are ready,
furrows made deep
for farmers’ prize seed.
Vineyards recede
into straight narrow lanes.
and twisted vines
in cruciform lines
conceal summer’s new wine.
They wait, well quenched
by winter’s rain.
Sweet tears
drench the ground with
baptismal springs,
and leafy green shade
will soon to spread
over orchard lanes.
We wait
as the moon, crescent mother
cradles her star-swollen belly,
and amorous crickets leap into the night
to sing her a waiting lullaby.
poem by Steven Federle
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Related quotes
A Lullaby
The stars are twinkling in the skies,
The earth is lost in slumbers deep;
So hush, my sweet, and close thine eyes,
And let me lull thy soul to sleep.
Compose thy dimpled hands to rest,
And like a little birdling lie
Secure within thy cozy nest
Upon my loving mother breast,
And slumber to my lullaby,
So hushaby--O hushaby.
The moon is singing to a star
The little song I sing to you;
The father sun has strayed afar,
As baby's sire is straying too.
And so the loving mother moon
Sings to the little star on high;
And as she sings, her gentle tune
Is borne to me, and thus I croon
For thee, my sweet, that lullaby
Of hushaby--O hushaby.
There is a little one asleep
That does not hear his mother's song;
But angel watchers--as I weep--
Surround his grave the night-tide long.
And as I sing, my sweet, to you,
Oh, would the lullaby I sing--
The same sweet lullaby he knew
While slumb'ring on this bosom too--
Were borne to him on angel's wing!
So hushaby--O hushaby.
poem by Eugene Field
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The Cab Lamps
The crescent moon and clock tower are fair above the wall
Across the smothered lanes of ’Loo, the stifled vice and all,
And in the shadow yonder—like cats that wait for scraps—
The crowding cabs seem waiting—for you and me, perhaps.
The cab lamps are watching as they watched for you and me,
The cab lamps are a-watching and they watch unblinkingly.
The sea breeze in Macleay Street and star-angels over all,
But the slinking cabs of darkness keep their watch beside the wall.
Oh! the years we slipped like months—and the months like a day—
When our cabs slid from the stand—touched the kerb and sped away—
Oh! the cloak on girlish shoulders—Oh! the theatres and light!
And the private rooms and supper that were all in a night!
Oh! the rickshaw in Colombo! And the flat that no one knew,
Where the cab lamps watched Haymarket—London cabs for me and you.
Oh! the gay run “Home” by Paris when the world was ours to play
And the wild run back by Frisco that seems all in a day.
Oh! the cab lamps and rose curtains, when the lie called love seemed true,
While an honest wife and husband suffered by the lanes of ’Loo.
Oh! the health and strength and beauty and the money with its power—
And those two good lives we ruined that was all in an hour.
But the night policeman’s coming with a sharp suspicious eye,
And he’d shift us “quick and lively” to the sweet by and by.
So we’ll seek our frowsy bedroom, if the old hag lets us through—
Where our folks died broken-hearted in the cruel lanes of ’Loo.
The cab lamps are watching as they watched across the sea,
The cab lamps are watching, and they watch for you and me.
For you and me they waited, when the thing called love seemed true,
But the bull’s-eye of our midnight must not flash on me—and you.
poem by Henry Lawson
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May Song
BIRDS in the green of my garden
Blackbirds and throstle and wren,
Wet your dear wings in the tears that are Spring's
And so to your singing again!
Birds in my blossoming orchard,
Chaffinch and goldfinch and lark,
Preen your bright wings, little happy live things;
The May trees grow white in the park!
Birds in the leafy wet woodlands,
Cuckoo and nightingale brown,
Sing to the sound of the rain on green ground--
The rain on green leaves dripping down!
Fresh with the rain of the May-time,
Rich with the promise of June,
Deep in her heart, where the little leaves part,
Love, like a bird, sings in tune!
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Summer's Kiss
Write me a summer song
plant here a warming kiss
seed it in these furrows long
in sunsets' languid dip.
Sing lyrics to my buried soul
which lives beneath
in numbing receded cold.
Sing to me underground
another season's bloom.
See my soul steeled against
against this dying cold abyss.
I shall not die in winter's cold
nor miss this year's summer's kiss
I'll bloom my soul's flower
in garden green-
my petals high sky'ed-
flower flights and butterflies
star dust destines;
all my hopes mingled.
Plant me here then
on ready cheek
just one summer's kiss,
my furrow to bloom
my soul 'neath
will rise fully watered
flowers fully bloomed;
Now start in me another
Hope's Season
even beneath
my winter's frozen
soil.
And here regard
Winter's frozen bloom
kissed by your summer lips
your's planted
upon mine.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Home
As the dawn sun breaks over sleepy gardens
Ill be here to do all things to comfort you.
And though Ive been away
Left you alone this way
Why dont you come awake
And let your first smile take me home.
The shadows in the park were longer yesterday
And lady luck stood still, waiting for the kill.
And on a jumbo ride
Over seas grey, deep and wide
I flew for heavens sake
And let the angels take me home.
Down steep and narrow lanes I see the chimneys smoking
Above the golden fields ... know what the robin feels
In his summer jamboree.
All elements agree
In sweet and stormy blend ---
Midwife to winds that send me home.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stranglehold
Can I get you to give me a minute of your time?
Can I get you to slip me the answer?
Can I get you to slow me a little of your mime?
You were always a very good dancer
Id be happy to show you a bit of what I found
Id be happy to share in its beauty
Id be happy to lay low inevitably bound
I would only be doing my duty.
I wait, I wait, I can wait, I can wait back in the bar
I can wait, I can wait , I can wait back in the car
Ill be waiting for you
Stranglehold, you know youve got on me
I dont want to go without you.
Stranglehold, youve got me where you want me
But I want to know more about you I want to know more
About you.
Are you willing to wager a little of your life?
Are you willing to take such a gamble?
Are you ready to walk on the edge of the knife?
Then I think we can skip the preamble.
I wait, I wait, I can wait. I cant wait back in the bar,
I can wait, I can wait, I can wait back in the car
Ill be waiting for you. Ill be waiting...
Stranglehold, you know, youve got on me
I dont want to go without you
Stranglehold, youve got me where you want me
And I want to know more about you I want to know more
About you.
I can wait, I can wait back in the bar I can wait, I can wait
I can wait back in the car Ill be waiting for you.
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love So Pure it Lastes all Season
Love oh love will thou wait for me
will thou wait in the spring's flowers
Love oh love will thou wait for me
will thou wait in the summer's sun
Love oh love will thou wait for me
will thou wait in the fall's breeze
Love oh love will thou wait for me
will thou wait for me in the winter's chill
Love oh love if thy waits for me in the spring, we shall run among the spring flowers and smell its morning dew
Love oh love if thy waits for me in the summer, we shall vask in its beautiful sunrays and splash in its cooling waters
Love oh love if thy waits for me in the fall, we shall play in its fallen leaves and sit beside the naked trees
Love oh love if thy waits for me in the winter, we shall play in its chilling snow and I shall build for you a wonderful snowman
Love oh love your waiting willth not been in vain for together we shall be someday
To you oh love I say may our love last as long as the seasons
poem by Darius Fields
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Thinking Of You
On that early winter morning
Wiggling my way
To touch the earth
My thoughts for you
Carried from a world unknown
Rushed across the by-lanes
Of memory I could vaguely touch
Where’re you,
Then and now?
Several moons
From that night
I hang between
Hope and despair
How I long to resurrect
The soul and body
In that life-inducing
Embrace of yours
That forever eludes me
On this earth…
Thinking of you
I drench myself
In tears and tears of joy
At the same time
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Theodora
Hyacinth windows made of Chrome
Out the door the madness roars
See the summer vines glow with thyme
Vassels of the Queen of light
Beautiful as mysterious Bora Bora
Deep and lovely like poetess Theodora
Shall I suffer like shells without a sea
You are the wine of Chaucer
Fields of silver verse
I am the prisoner of your charm
She is the gracious moon adorned
Longing for sweet beauty of Theodora
Fountains of joy tresses the summer
She ponders like a breeze of lovers
Fruit trees with blossoms so true
Starlings sing in seas of blue
Some Goddesses are angels of lore
Hear the bells ring for elegant Theodora
Laurels strewn in the fire of night
Candles watch the shadows flight
She is a glade by a river of romance
My desire is not waned or fenced
My garden I am cold and torn
Waiting for the fire of Theodora
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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Wait Till Summer Comes Along
I've been cryin' all the Winter.
I've been waiting for some good to come my way,
But I'll wait till the Summer comes along.
Dear Lord, have I done so much wrong.
How can I go on,
Wondering what I did wrong,
Can it be too much to ask?
Please, oh please, let it be.
If the Summer'll come my way,
Will I find someone to take the place of [?]?
But I'll wait till the Summer comes along.
Dear Lord, tell me what could I've done wrong.
Can it be that she,
Never wanted to,
Break some poor mother's heart?
Please, oh please, let it be.
I know my Summer'll never come.
I know I'll cry until my dying day has come.
Let the Winter roll along.
I've got nothing left but song.
Oh, oh, what's happened?
Oh, oh, what's happened?
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Moonlight
Looking at the moon at night,
I wonder how many lovers
have shared it with delight,
millions and trillions
have enjoyed its golden glow
as they went courting
under it each night.
Moonlight is romantic.
As soon as you say it,
romance springs to mind.
Kiss and cuddling
on the back seats of cars,
lovers walking arm in arm
down leafy lovers lanes.
The moonlight brings
out the best of lovers
here and there.
A walk in the moonlight
something they can both love and share.
5 February 2008
poem by David Harris
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Arrival
I wait for the humming bird to hum.
I wait for the bees to buzz.
I wait for the doves to bill and coo.
I wait for how it was
When springtime memory
Made its presence known
And I wait for winter's melancholy
to which I find I'm prone
to finally leave me alone.
I wait for springtime showers to appear.
I wait for a perfect rainbow.
I wait for the smell of blossoms.
I wait for them to grow
When every springtime memory
comes alive again.
And I wait for winter's darkness
which I pray for to descend
so I can let my yearning end.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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The Waiting Game
It seems we wait and wait and wait
for something all our days.
And the time we spend waiting
provides us with delays.
Sometimes what we wait for
is so far out of reach
that the waiting becomes the lesson
that your life is trying to teach.
To wait for the improbable to happen
is called the impossible dream.
Tis it not better to stop the waiting
and stop the inner stream
of frustrating tears that flow each day
because instinctively you know
that the waiting will never disappear.
The waiting will never go.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Lullaby
Now the day is done,
Now the shepherd sun
Drives his white flocks from the sky;
Now the flowers rest
On their mother's breast,
Hushed by her low lullaby.
Now the glowworms glance,
Now the fireflies dance,
Under fern-boughs green and high;
And the western breeze
To the forest trees
Chants a tuneful lullaby.
Now 'mid shadows deep
Falls blessed sleep,
Like dew from the summer sky;
And the whole earth dreams,
In the moon's soft beams,
While night breathes a lullaby.
Now, birdlings, rest,
In your wind-rocked nest,
Unscared by the owl's shrill cry;
For with folded wings
Little Brier swings,
And singeth your lullaby.
poem by Louisa May Alcott
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Upon My Lap My Sovereign Sits
Upon my lap my sovereign sits
And sucks upon my breast;
Meantime his love maintains my life
And gives my sense her rest.
Sing lullaby, my little boy,
Sing lullaby, mine only joy!
When thou hast taken thy repast,
Repose, my babe, on me;
So may thy mother and thy nurse
Thy cradle also be.
Sing lullaby, my little boy,
Sing lullaby, mine only joy!
I grieve that duty doth not work
All that my wishing would,
Because I would not be to thee
But in the best I should.
Sing lullaby, my little boy,
Sing lullaby, mine only joy!
Yet as I am, and as I may,
I must and will be thine,
Though all too little for thyself
Vouchsafing to be mine.
Sing lullaby, my little boy,
Sing lullaby, mine only joy!
poem by Martin Peerson
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Airplane
Over the city in an airplane
I can see everything below
The houses they look so tiny
The cars look like dots
Weve only got fifteen minutes to go
The clouds in the sky caress my mind so tenderly
The sun shines down on the great big beautiful scene
The sound of the engine fills my ears up
Im hopin this rainy weather clears up
My lover is waiting at the airport
Soon shell be kissing me hello
The woman sitting next to me tells me bout her guy
And I tell her all about you and i
Airplane, airplane
Carry me back to her side
Airplane, airplane
I need God as my guide
Down, down on the ground
Cant wait to see her face
(a-1, a-2, a-1, 2, 3)
I cant wait (cant wait)
To see (her face)
I cant wait (cant wait)
To see (her face)
I cant wait (cant wait)
To see (her face)
I cant wait (cant wait)
To see (her face)
I cant wait (cant wait)
To see (her face)
I cant wait (cant wait)
To see (her face)
I cant wait (cant wait)
To see (her face)
I cant wait (cant wait)
To see (her face)
I cant wait (cant wait)
To see (her face)
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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About Us Who Remained Here....
when first thrown away
they call it
seed,
there are rocky fields
where most of the seeds
struggle for soil
& water
to grow
buds and mature as
branches
or be successful trees
into forests,
so many have found themselves
as utter failures
in the form of sand
so many are dead, wilting even
before
leafing
there are others who evolve well
despite the harsh conditions
lucky for those who imagine wings
and turn into birds
of freedom
but others do not have that fate
the stars are against them
you have seen now
so many pebbles scattered on those
twisted paths
others of course have turned themselves
into stones
the mostly preferred state of being
strong
or mistaken to be stoic
into rocky formations ready to be
fields of cradles again for
those that come recently and
baptized with the same name
seed.
we who remain here
have learned to write about all these
sad phenomena
we have fortified ourselves as slates of rocks
with rain as pens.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Oh! Wonderful Frog
oh little Frog, why you have always see
the sky and shade tears for the rain to come,
look your feet ready to swim and your
tongue seems happy to sing
oh wonderful Frog, you shatter the night
with your fantastic chord, orchestrated by the
different voices where everybody laugh to
sing for the whole day, the nightingale of the
rain
oh come my dear valued Frog my heart find
its wisdom of the rain to come, you’ll the
driven power in every changing world; the
calmness of the silent night awake of your
songs, the turmoil river smoothly gone to the
sea and the flowers go asleep as you form
the kaleidoscopic tune of melody
oh Frog, the dawning forest lives as you
command, come and let me sing the sweet
stay with thee, take the funny lullaby that
makes every child swims happily as you sang,
and you’re the early song that window of
each child love to jump in the pond
beautiful Frog lends my hands ……
poem by Antonio Liao
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The Moon Does Not Regret Her Winter
The moon does not regret her winter,
Or the torn strands of gray chiffon
That cover her face tonight.
As this dew shelters the dry grass like tears,
And shadows of dark leaves
Wait to wither into morning,
The moon fades,
A goddess,
Empty of desire or light.
No, the moon does not regret
This burial of love.
In the coldness of her solitude,
She will not weep tears of rust,
Or betray herself with petty despair.
The moon does not regret dust,
Or the accumulation of her years,
Or this sadness beneath salt, beneath bone.
She has her own time and place,
that which is eternal surrounds her.
When full, she is round and cold
and then she narrows, changes into perfect crescent.
You were like the moon, I never understood
the subtle ways in which you changed.
I only know that like the moon at crescent,
I, too, have lost three-quarters of myself.
poem by Velene Campbell
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Sorley’s Weather
When outside the icy rain
Comes leaping helter-skelter,
Shall I tie my restive brain
Snugly under shelter?
Shall I make a gentle song
Here in my firelit study,
When outside the winds blow strong
And the lanes are muddy?
With old wine and drowsy meats
Am I to fill my belly?
Shall I glutton here with Keats?
Shall I drink with Shelley?
Tobacco’s pleasant, firelight’s good:
Poetry makes both better.
Clay is wet and so is mud,
Winter rains are wetter.
Yet rest there, Shelley, on the sill,
For though the winds come frorely,
I’m away to the rain-blown hill
And the ghost of Sorley.
poem by Robert Graves
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