Songs Of A Plough!
The sounds of the rain delighted!
The fragrance of the soil flowered!
In the nerves of the plough
Leaning in coma at the corner
Of the worn out thatched hut
A thrill sent cheerful shivers!
Cutting deep furrows in the soil
It dreamed of its own songs
To the raining tunes!
It mounted on the necks
Of bullocks at early dawn
And on the strings of the earth
Wove new cheerful melodies!
poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Rain Drop
A dropp of rain
cloud sends rain to earth
when it reaches soil
it makes fragrance
no other person in the world will not make
such kind of fragrance
it means the happiness of the soil and rain drop
rain dropp ends its life
but
it makes us happy
poem by Dhivya Thiyagarajan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Forgotten Fertility Myth
Pranab k c
27/06/2011
a deep depression
carries monsoon again
its raining
five days at a stretch
day and night
she is wet
her chastity
waiting to be ploughed
soil so soft
to be mould in creation
plough hard
my peasant friend
pour dropp to form seed
your personal rain
would make her corny
every dream
of your personal cloud
would make her smile festive
fertile soil seeks seedling
cultivate you the peasant
cultivate hard
cultivate with care
cultivate with unending passion
She waits to bear all the pain
for a pleasure of exposing a life again
poem by Pranab K. Chakraborty
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
When the Rain Stops
When the rain stops and the sun comes out
I have a feeling, a nagging little doubt
That the clouds and the just departing rain
Have stolen from me something
Never to be got back again!
Those moments of tender touching on cheeks
Chasing droplets running down window sill
The swaying shower that from the sky leaks
To give the yearning soil a vigorous thrill!
The symphony the rain clatters on the tin
The sounds the leaves make while they drink
I want to hold onto but lose in the din
As the landscapes around me dim and shrink!
The raining moments leave with something of me
Hidden inside and longing to be free
What one rain takes the other never returns
The times, the hopes and the fire that burns!
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Soil Is A Soul Of Life
Soil what is soil Lord?
soil is life seed
soil is a living organism
soil is a loom
from which you were made
dust you were dust you will be
Soil what is soil Scientist?
soil is a critical
part
of an ecosystem
soil provides
important nutrients
for plants in
an ecosystem
soil helps
anchor
plants
to keep
plants
in place
soil absorbs
holds water
for plants
soil absorbs
holds water
for animals
lakes rivers
to use
soil provides
a home
for many species
lots of living
organisms
soil
regenerates life
dust you were dust you will be
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Fine Rain Droplets
n the amid of dried ground
There stands a peasant in solitude
Both his eyes opened towards the sky
To be merciful from the black clouds.
Then it started raining with full grace
And he felt the happiness at its green
And chuckled for the merciful droplets
The round shaped droplets of rain
Falling from the tip of the every leaf
Drenched the hard dusty red soil.
The earth stretched its lap to welcome
The rain to sweep away the drought.
Once again the fragrance of motherland
Spread all over the draught area.
Each and every graceful droplets falling
To sweep away the pity droplets of tears.
poem by Johnson Xavier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Roses like soft rain
Deluge kills them brutally
Fallen pale petals
Drowning in a pool of regrets
As rain makes furrows in soil
tanka by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Horses
The horses
Three horses graze on my land, one is a foal.
In the twilight and with gentle rain falling
they remind me of work horses of by gone
days when I steered the plough that made
furrows in dark, clean soil.
When I stroke their flanks the good aroma
of warm horse arises; dreams are endless.
In daylight they pretend to be boulders, but
even then they make the land serene.
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Fairytale Rains
For long there’s no rain, for long
The dying soil stretches its tongue
Towards the firmament, begging on its knees
‘Rain, come rain, even if a little, please’!
It’s eons since the clouds squeezed out
The last drops, knowing they’re all in vain
No yield would come of them, no sprout
Horrified they wilted to be never back again!
The race progressed with their grim toil
Forgetting rain is born in the soil
Dreaming of a distant thunder
Yearning the clouds to come asunder!
My grandpa told me a fairytale
That once on earth the rain fell
It washed the body and made souls clean
Lives shot up to make the earth green!
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Soil Dry Define Vine
soil nutrients
soil soul embodiment
soil fingertips
blood flow wine
hunger allure
siren vine original
soil dry
struggle character
define vine
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Son Of The Soil
Black, strong tatooed by the sun.
He toils and never tires.
He is the son of the soil.
Forget all these fake wana be's! You see today
wanting to be everything they see on tv.
he is the Son of the soil, raised up in the language of the ancetrals.
Taught to hunter and respect the traditions.
Raised up in the secret sacred things of the land.
Spilt his blood in the soil at the riverside at the age of 13.
He knew where his destiny lay at the age of 16.
Had his first encounter at 18.
She was a true daughter of the soil breed well by the women of the land.
Son of the soil taught by the elders the ways of women.
Son of the soil, taught by nature the way to survive.
Son of the soil, taught to endure by the woman he shares his purity with.
Son of the soil,
arise and toil for your destiny calls.
Toil to protect the weak,
to safeguard the rites,
to up root all menace and vallians from the west.
Son of the soil its your time to stand and be heard.
poem by Tigana Chileshe
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Bamboo Tunes and Cat Eyed Girl
In the murmuring evenings,
Cat eyed girl, worn ear-rings,
Stands by bamboo cluster,
Putting down pots of water.
Gilded bamboos sing and sway,
And the tired path becomes gay.
Bamboo hearts throb ever;
Unnamed tunes cease never.
Her bamboo throes resounded
In the gloomy wind unbounded.
Melodies of earth does shower
On her soul that does hover.
Finger tip of the wind brings
Sweet tunes from bamboo strings.
Music enters her inner grove,
Where the forlorn dreams rove.
Cuddled bamboos swing and say
What the lovers failed to say.
Never dying natural music
So keeps her hopes rhythmic.
poem by Fabiyas M V
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Soil's Tears
The soil knows the burden of tears
The earth’s sadness that it bears
Through endless battles for territory -
Only the soil knows it has no boundary!
Blood spills on it, falls toil’s sweat,
Muscle’s ravage decides the weak’s fate
Cries of desperation and victory’s cheers
All these the soil tearfully bears!
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
When I Feel The Rain I Live
Outside it's raining and i'm watching at my window,
In silence of the world, only the dance of rain i could feel,
My thoughts are in torment of questions and answers,
Only the rain knows what i need.
Rain falls gradually in the rhythm of my thoughts,
I feel it's wrapping my pain,
The voice of rain calming my senses,
When my heart is rushing to beat.
I'm watching rain from window,
The cold drops are touching the thirsty ground,
My soul is the same as the soil,
It needs love as much the soil needs rain.
I'm walking in cold rain,
Like crystal pearls are falling from the sky,
When touching my skin it's like magic,
I feel my soul light and released of pain.
I'm listening the music of the rain drops,
And on this music i am dancing, speeding around,
With my arms wide open touching rain drops,
Rain is caressing me with its voice and touch.
I adore rain, it's all my sould wanted,
Caressing me, awaking life in me,
When i feel the rain and listen to its rhythm,
I wish to live again, again, again.
poem by Cristina Teodor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Hi..bird Of The Spring Season, What Is Your Name? [part-1 ]
HI, bird of spring! what is your name?
HI, wonderful bird!
What is your name?
Like a lonely boat on a silent lake-
As a solitary cloud on a solemn sky-
You glide on the gentle winds
To enthral my eyes and heart!
The colourful displays
On your cheerful wings
Fill every crevice of my heart
With the nectar of full moon!
A moment of bliss
You graced my heart;
But the moment next
Vanished in a trice
Into the inviting dense grove
Like a winged lightning!
Realising my disappointed look
Closely following your flight
With lamenting lips-
Do you warble so delightfully
At this early dawn?
By raining dreams
Into your flute of heart-
And all the expanses of my heart
To suffer in pleasure
Of your music breeze-
Like offering nectar
To an exhausted soul-
As an oasis found
In a deserted land-
Your bows of melodies
To encircle my skies
Do you warble so delightfully?
-s.chandra kalaadhar
poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Rain Pouring Down
Rain pouring down incessantly
As thunder sounds in the distance
Announce the cool, washing of Earth
Soothe the soil and bring abundance.
Rain pouring down consistently
Reminds us of God's own Faithfulness
He brings forth growth continually
Harvest for man to feed and bless.
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
O What A Climate Today!
o what a climate today!
o where is the sun that squeezed dry my blood into sweat so long?
the day unusually rolls up and sets aside the sparkling quilt of the sun;
and the ashen clouds have spread their thin mats all over the skies
and the cheerful winds on joyful feet spread happiness everywhere
on top of all, as a crowning glory, there is a dreamy rain -
no, i cannot call this rain, or a misty fall, nor a soft drizzle-
it is of dreamy drops, here and there, distanced by long seconds,
and tossed far and wide by the sprinting and sporting wind,
sending shivers of thrill into the streams of blood
and giving birth to spontaneous expressions of ecstasy;
it is a rainless rain, raining joy and dance -
the light is cool and gentle and not hurting;
it is the winds that create the festival of joy
and spray laughter that bubbles up amidst the flowery trees-
o what is the language of the flowers and leaves?
are they one and the same or different?
o how i wish to speak their noiseless language!
today i could venture out into the open even at 4 p.m.
with no risk of burning my soles and skin;
today my dance is not on flames but on flowers-
the sky has bid adieu to the sweating sun of june;
at last i find the sun of the moon or the moon of the sun
high above on the western skies, harmless and half-sleepy;
the nature today has painted everything in mild colours,
drawing hearts out into the open to the bliss of the seasons!
where else in the universe except on this lovely earth
could i get this solemn bliss from the elements of nature?
i will be born again and again on this beautiful earth.
--s.chandra kalaadhar [18.06.2012/ monday /aani 4/nandhana /4 p.m.
poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Looking At You
looking at you early morning
makes my nerves run like kids
desire rises to the skies
like smoke of my fires
seeing you naked in my dreams
walking in the sands of my seas
strands of lights from my heavens
in a flash you come and in a flash you leave
and then the rain of pains
i become this soil
absorbing everything
cracks and crevices
holes and emptiness
mud and muddle
drenched and flooded.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Little Bird..Is Your Heart Parched ?
Little Bird..!
I doubt your heart would become parched
by efforts to roll your breaths into verses-
and raising your bills into the skies
pipe your melodies flooding the dawn....
Where is the fountainhead of
the deathless springs of your music?
What is the interwoven message
in your unbroken songs?
Is it the shackles-shattering joy
with the birth of hopeful morn?
Is it specially for the mornings
do your songs surge in waves?
Or else, is it just for your songs
the morns arrive in hurried steps?
Which angel exactly at dawn
daily unfailingly wakes you up?
Who is she that floods your heart
with sweetness and verve?
Wherefrom do you steal the honey
dripping in your melodies?
If not, what swings in your small heart
is it a honey comb?
Or else, is your heart itself
structured in the heavy honeycomb?
Does your heart hold ' Paanjajanyam'
the mighty conch of 'Lord Krishnaa'?
What is your wage for singing songs
for 'Lord Sun' at the temple of 'Day '?
Is everyday of the year to you
the salary day of the month?
Do you decorate the golden wrists of dawn
full with the bangles of melody?
Tactfully moulding the syrup of music
fixing a flute as its mouth...
to brighten the heart
lighting the lamps of tunes..
does 'Mother Nature' create you
in her moments of ecstasy?
Have you bound and brought the sun
by your musical lines, little bird?
Tell me, little bird, is the infant 'Sun'
delivered by 'Mother Music'
at the house of East
in the birth pangs of tunes?
poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Sparkling World Show
Rain season
Everyday always rains
Rain drops sound
The smell of wet soil
Every dropp is a doubt
Between bless and curse
And among all creature
Who enjoy the most humidity
Are the plants and grasses
There’s no one on the park in the rain day
In the corner
In the middle of white thin fog
A little story begins
In the cross of thin fog in the park’s corner
There’s unforgettable small memory
After rain we’ll enjoy
The joy of sunshine
The sparkling world by raindrop
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
To The Leaven'd Soil They Trod
TO the leaven'd soil they trod, calling, I sing, for the last;
(Not cities, nor man alone, nor war, nor the dead,
But forth from my tent emerging for good--loosing, untying the tent-
ropes;)
In the freshness, the forenoon air, in the far-stretching circuits
and vistas, again to peace restored,
To the fiery fields emanative, and the endless vistas beyond--to the
south and the north;
To the leaven'd soil of the general western world, to attest my
songs,
(To the average earth, the wordless earth, witness of war and peace,)
To the Alleghanian hills, and the tireless Mississippi,
To the rocks I, calling, sing, and all the trees in the woods,
To the plain of the poems of heroes, to the prairie spreading
wide, 10
To the far-off sea, and the unseen winds, and the same impalpable
air;
... And responding, they answer all, (but not in words,)
The average earth, the witness of war and peace, acknowledges mutely;
The prairie draws me close, as the father, to bosom broad, the son;
The Northern ice and rain, that began me, nourish me to the end;
But the hot sun of the South is to ripen my songs.
poem by Walt Whitman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!