By The Pond In Shade
She sat down with you
by the pond
the summer heat
and dragonflies
skimming across
the water's skin
and the odd duck or so
setting down there
and she said
I want to have kids one day
and be a good mother
and make my kids happy
and meet their needs
and not be a moaning mum
like my own
and you looked at her
taking your eyes off
the ducks and dragonflies
and letting them rest
upon her face
and wondered how Rubens
would catch her
or maybe Renoir
and you said
I'm sure you will some day
and they'll be lucky kids
and maybe you won't moan
or chide too much
and then silence
as you swam over
her features
her eyes
her nose
her rose kissed cheeks
the way she sat
her elbows on her knees
the summer skirt
showing a little thigh
and she said
pointing to the water
we used to swim in there
when we were young
before mother caught us
with that Barber boy
but it was fun
and innocent
but she never saw things
that way
and then she smiled at you
and you said
wish we could go swim there
like that today
while the sun's out
and the dragonflies
are skimming
and the ducks are here
but she just shook her head
and laughed
and ducks flew off
but dragonflies stayed
where you sat with her
by the pond
in cool of shade.
poem by Terry Collett
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Related quotes
A Summer Scene
A lazy leaf-laden river
Snakes around a sandy shoreline
While copulating dragonflies
Fly over near-stagnant water
In aimless zigzag ecstasy.
Dozens of stout brown birds skimming
The surface, ascending slightly,
Than dipping incredibly low
Miraculously avoiding
Contact with the wet surfactant.
Along the shore a raft of ducks
Noisily swim by in a queue
Seemingly like some summertime
Carnival shooting gallery.
poem by Albert Ahearn
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Dragonflies
Dragonflies
why so busy,
why so many?
Is there anyone of you
who can tell your stories?
Dragonflies
why so busy,
why so many?
are you working,
or just playing?
Dragonflies
why so busy,
why so many?
why don't you come
and rest beside me.
Dragonflies
why so busy,
why so many?
Is there anyone of you
who wants to hear my story?
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
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The Duck Pond
There's a pond at the centre of the village green,
Where ducks, moorhen and coot can be seen.
It's a feature which adds to the character and charm.
When sat by the pond, you feel a real sense of calm.
Pond-skaters and other small insects on the water skate:
The surface tension supporting their miniscule weight.
Waving their heads, the long, lush, green reeds,
Provide partial shelter for a fish as it feeds.
A frog pops its head up and looks around,
Then slips back under the water with a plopping sound.
Darting this way and that, are beautiful blue dragonflies:
Their motion so quick, they're gone in the blink of an eye.
There's sweet gallingale, marsh marigold and watercress,
But, for me, the pretty pink water lilies are by far the best.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Dancing Dragonflies
The first time I saw some dragonflies,
I could not quite believe my eyes.
They darted around by the willow trees,
With such sheer agility and amazing ease.
I had thought it an illusion, but it is true:
Their bodies really do shine electric blue.
Across the water, the dragonflies danced;
I watched their antics, feeling entranced.
Through the air, the dragonflies zoomed:
Like little lights, in the shadowy gloom.
Dancing about where the light was dimmer,
Their bright blue bodies shone and shimmered.
They gave the most skilful flying display,
And I couldn't quite drag my eyes away.
They really were such an awesome sight;
I couldn't help but give a gasp of delight.
One landed nearby, upon the railing
Of the boat, on which I was sailing.
My camera, from my lap, I slowly raised,
But, sensing my movement, it flew away.
A most charming sight these creatures made,
And I really wish that I could have stayed.
From beneath the willows, the boat pulled away,
But I will always remember that summer's day.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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What Was Once
She would often stare at you
sitting by the pond
the summer sunlight
playing there
on the waters' skin
the holidays
having just begun
and she'd say
you do love me don't you?
and you'd look away
from the sunlight's dance
and reply
of course I do
and you'd see that look
in her eyes
like worlds
being born
and she'd say
Mother wouldn't want
me here alone with you
and you looking back
at the pond's water
would say
why is that?
what have I done
to cause her alarm?
Birds flew across
the pond
their cries breaking
the silence of the summer day
she moved her hand
and touched your hand
resting on the dry earth
because she's jealous of me
being loved I suppose
or maybe she thinks
we do things while alone
you look back at her
the way she sat
the skirt lifted
along her thigh
her hand squeezing yours
that summer
that love
the fresh life
of loving
the being
out of doors.
poem by Terry Collett
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Morning and Memories
She had managed to get out
and met you by the pond
where you had been waiting
and the morning air was fresh
and the birds were in song
and the flowers around the pond
were colourful
and she sat beside you
and said
Had to sneak out
the back way
before my mother
gave me chores
and anyway
it's too nice a day
to be stuck indoors
and she looked at you
and smiled her bright smile
and you said
Glad you came
don't like being here
unless you're with me
it reminds me of you
this place
us being here together
and she said
Remember that time
we were here
and the rain came down
and we got drenched
and had to run to the barn
and shelter
and we were warm
and looked at each other
and then she stopped
and looked at the pond
and at the ducks there
and the bright morning sky
and you said
Yes that was a time to remember
and do you remember
that mouse that ran over your leg
and you screamed
and it echoed
around the barn
as if you were being murdered
and she laughed
and put her head
on your shoulder
and said
I can't help it
if mice frighten me
and you sensed her head
against you
and wanted that moment
like all moments with her
never to end
but some how
to always to be there
memories and moments
and feelings
and the ducks
and the smell
of the morning air
always to be in my mind
and always to be there.
poem by Terry Collett
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Old Snake-Doctor
Once I found an ant-lion's hole
And an ant-lion in it: nippers
Like a pair of rusty clippers.
And I saw a red ant roll
In its pit, and, quick as Ned,
This old ant-lion fanged its head,
Held it till the ant was dead.
II.
And I told my father: he
Smiled and said, 'He beats the dickens,
With his pinchers; even chickens
Have n't his voracity.
Think now what he would have done
Had you been an ant, my son,
Fallen in that pit like one.
III.
'Daniel in the lion's den!
Guess you'd come home good and gory.
But now here's another story:
You should see these ant-lions when
They have wings; and, blue and green,
Ponds and pools they fly between:
Prettiest things I've ever seen.
IV.
'Look just like the dragonflies;
And perhaps they are snake-feeders;
Name you'll never find in Readers
Read at school: but, I surmise,
Dragonflies are not the same
As these old snake-doctors; name
For which I am not to blame.
V.
'Who's to blame then? If it's not
I or, say, the dictionary,
Since we two seem so contráry,
Must be that old ant-lion what
Can't content itself, that's plain,
With its bug-estate; remain
Just a bug in sun and rain.
VI.
'Has to get himself new clothes!
Gauzy wings that shine and glitter;
Something that he thinks is fitter
His profession, I suppose,
Doctoring things, like water-snakes;
Finery that often takes
Eyes of hungry ducks and drakes:
VII.
'And of fishes, too, the fool.
Who his coat so bright and brassy,
Mirrored in the waters glassy,
Leap for, drag into the pool.
Old snake-doctor, flaunt your fill!
Feed the snakes or cure or kill
In the end you pay the bill.'
poem by Madison Julius Cawein
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The Banyan Tree
O you shaggy-headed banyan tree standing on the bank of the pond,
have you forgotten the little chile, like the birds that have
nested in your branches and left you?
Do you not remember how he sat at the window and wondered at
the tangle of your roots and plunged underground?
The women would come to fill their jars in the pond, and your
huge black shadow would wriggle on the water like sleep struggling
to wake up.
Sunlight danced on the ripples like restless tiny shuttles
weaving golden tapestry.
Two ducks swam by the weedy margin above their shadows, and
the child would sit still and think.
He longed to be the wind and blow through your resting
branches, to be your shadow and lengthen with the day on the water,
to be a bird and perch on your topmost twig, and to float like
those ducks among the weeds and shadows.
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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Local Park
When you want a good walk
Through day or the dark,
The place to go is our local park,
The park is a pride
The finest ever seen,
Tree's and grass always ever green..
There's swings for the kids
For all girls and boys,
Sea saw and paddling pool
To fill in their joys.
There's a path walk way all the way round
If you want a good walk
And summer seats to sit if you want a good talk,
The park has a lake and plenty good sport,
Bowling on the green and tennis on the court.
There's plenty of fun
Plenty to do,
Even at the park
Good swimming pool there to,
The pool has a cafe
If you want to call in
A wee cup of tea or have a good swim.
There's cricket and football
A horse riding track,
And even a good golf course
It's way round the back.
So here is our park
That's full of good pride,
Were ducks swim the water
And kids play the slide
poem by Gerald Follis Lurgan
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Ducks
(To E.M., Who drew them in Holzminden Prison)
I
From troubles of the world I turn to ducks,
Beautiful comical things
Sleeping or curled
Their heads beneath white wings
By water cool,
Or finding curious things
To eat in various mucks
Beneath the pool,
Tails uppermost, or waddling
Sailor-like on the shores
Of ponds, or paddling
- Left! Right! - with fanlike feet
Which are for steady oars
When they (white galleys) float
Each bird a boat
Rippling at will the sweet
Wide waterway ...
When night is fallen you creep
Upstairs, but drakes and dillies
Nest with pale water-stars.
Moonbeams and shadow bars,
And water-lilies:
Fearful too much to sleep
Since they've no locks
To click against the teeth
Of weasel and fox.
And warm beneath
Are eggs of cloudy green
Whence hungry rats and lean
Would stealthily suck
New life, but for the mien
The hold ferocious mien
Of the mother-duck.
II
Yes, ducks are valiant things
On nests of twigs and straws,
And ducks are soothy things
And lovely on the lake
When that the sunlight draws
Thereon their pictures dim
In colours cool.
And when beneath the pool
They dabble, and when they swim
And make their rippling rings,
0 ducks are beautiful things!
But ducks are comical things:-
As comical as you.
Quack!
They waddle round, they do.
They eat all sorts of things,
And then they quack.
By barn and stable and stack
They wander at their will,
But if you go too near
They look at you through black
Small topaz-tinted eyes
And wish you ill.
Triangular and clear
They leave their curious track
In mud at the water's edge,
And there amid the sedge
And slime they gobble and peer
Saying 'Quack! quack!'
III
When God had finished the stars and whirl of coloured suns
He turned His mind from big things to fashion little ones;
Beautiful tiny things (like daisies) He made, and then
He made the comical ones in case the minds of men
Should stiffen and become
Dull, humourless and glum,
And so forgetful of their Maker be
As to take even themselves - quite seriously.
Caterpillars and cats are lively and excellent puns:
All God's jokes are good - even the practical ones!
And as for the duck, 1 think God must have smiled a bit
Seeing those bright eyes blink on the day He fashioned it.
And he's probably laughing still at the sound that came out of its bill!
poem by Frederick William Harvey
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Muskegon River
Floating down the river in a canoe
Left the world behind, just your family and you
Ten miles of paddling, around river bends
Passed downed logs, turtles, and wrens
Watching dragonflies chasing around
The river gets shallow, and we run aground
We get out and set our canoe afloat
Then help the guys, unstuck their boat
We “DUCK” as we float under a tree
Just the four of us, my family and me
We come to a place, where people reside
Ducks fly and crayfish hide
Past seawalls, we come around the bend
We can see it, the launch at the end
It’s a mad dash, back to the shore
The water is flying and so are the oar
8/9/9
poem by Rhonda Baker
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But She Knew
But I know
she said
that you love me
and you were sitting
by the pond
you with that cheap fishing rod
which caught nothing
and she sitting there
her hands over her knees
gazing at the still surface
even if you don’t
say it often
she added
laying her chin
on her knees
her green skirt
just above her knees
and you caught
a glimpse of her thighs
where the skirt rose up
I do you love
you said
holding the rod
between hands
it’s just I don’t see the need
to keep on saying it
you added
stretching your eyes
to go as far
as they could
to get a better look
and she said
why do you come here
to fish when you catch
nothing except a cold
in the neck
and stiff joints
and do you want a smoke?
She pulled out
a pack of cigarettes
and you let a hand free
from the rod
and took one
and she put one
between her lips
and lit it with a pink
plastic lighter
then lit yours
and you both
inhaled and exhaled
the smoke rising
over the pond
seeming to sit there
in the still air
and she said
between drags
I do know you love me
I can feel it
in my bones
and in my tingling
flesh at night
as I lay abed
and you thought
of that image
knowing her mother
would be about
the house
with her stern features
and sharp tongue
and beady eyes
but the image was good
you thought
sitting there beside her
in silence
with the drifting smoke
over the pond
and her hand
touching you
and the sky
turning from
dull grey
to a soft blue.
poem by Terry Collett
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Ducks of Equality
Dark brown-black ducks
splish-splash and
pitter-patter on
gently rocking waves
of glee
When a light gray-white duck
tip-taps and
tip-toes
shyly shivering
'May I join? ' quacks he.
The dark brown-black ducks
easily accept
the light gray-white duck
as one of their own
and joyfully they swim and play
In chilly water
'til they're freezing to the bone
And I wonder:
Why can't America be
more like the
dark brown-black ducks
and the
light gray-white duck
floating on the waves
of acceptance and equality?
poem by Charlotte Riddle
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Ducks On The Wall
After dinner norman becomes depressed.
Star:
Normans office got on my nerves to-day.
Wife:
What do you mean? you are norman!
Star:
(shouts) I am a star!
Wife:
Youre not a star norman. youre
Just a plain ordinary little bloke and
Even if you walked down the street in
A silver suit people still wouldnt
Recognise you. youre dull, ordinary
And uninteresting! youre a drag!
Star rises from his chair and smashes
The dinner plates to the floor.
Star:
I hate this house and I hate you, but
More than anything else I hate those
Ducks!
Wife:
Dont you touch those ducks norman!
They were a present from my mother.
Look, norman, Ive had enough of you
And your ridiculous fantasies. first of
All you wanted to be a painter, then
You wanted to be an astronaut, then
A footballer and now youre playing at
Being a rock singer. if you touch those
Ducks Im leaving!
Ducks on the wall
My babys got the most deplorable taste,
But her biggest mistake
Is hanging over the fireplace.
Shes got ducks, ducks on the wall,
Ducks, ducks, hanging on the wall.
My ladys got a sort of strange fascination,
An obsessive fixation
For cheap decorations
Shes got ducks, ducks on the wall.
Ducks, ducks, hanging on the wall.
Wo-wo-wo I love her so but if she doesnt move the ducks,
I think my mind is gonna go.
Ducks ducks on the wall.
Ducks ducks, hanging on the wall.
I leave the office and I want to relax.
Dont want to stare at a wall
And look at a duck that cant quack.
I love you baby but I cant fall
For those ducks on the wall.
I start to snuggle up and squeeze her so tight.
Then out of the corner of my eye
I see those ducks in flight.
I love you baby but I cant ball
When I see those ducks on the wall.
Wo-wo-wo I can sit through your gossip and your soap opera shows,
But those ducks have got to go.
I love you baby but I cant ball
When I see those ducks on the wall.
And when I went to a cocktail party
With the bores next door,
What was the first thing that I saw?
Ducks, ducks on the wall.
Ducks, ducks hanging on the wall.
My babys got the most deplorable taste,
But her biggest mistake
Is hanging over the fireplace.
Shes got ducks, ducks on the wall,
Ducks, ducks hanging on the wall.
Ill sit and look at all the soap operas with her
Ill play all the panel games and watch all the quiz shows,
But those ducks theyve got to go,
Those ducks are getting up my nose.
If those ducks can fly, well so can i.
And if those ducks have got to stay
Then Im going to fly away.
I love you baby but I cant ball
When I see those ducks on the wall.
Ducks, ducks, ducks on the wall.
Ducks, ducks, ducks on the wall.
Oh those ducks on the wall are beginning to move
Theyre talking to me
Ive got to get away from those ducks.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fears For Fears
Death promises nothing for me
And I don't expect nothing from death
Either than pain and sorrows
Fears for fears
Live in me
When I walk late at night on the road
Because I never know what can happen to me
But I believe that God is always on my side
Fears for fears
I will never trust the promises of a lazy man
Fears for fears
I will drink the one
With my food
So that I can give gheers to my God
Fears for fears
I don't fear the thunder or lightning
Fears for fears
The pond is home to all ducks
Because all the ducks lives in the pond
Swimming away
Fears for fears
What more can I give to God
Than myself
Fears for fears
The paths are not clear of the snow
In the winter
In the city where I live
Fears for fears
The harbour is so quiet during the winter
Because no boats are in the harbour during the winter
And everything sleeps away in the harbour
Also the night comes early during the winter months
But summer is different
Because the light shines all day
Fears for fears
Our bodies are made of water
And we need water to survive in this heat
poem by Aldo Kraas
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You Better Sit Down Kids
Better sit down kids
Ill tell you why, kids
You might not understand, kids
But give it a try, kids
Now how should I put this
Ive got something to say
You mother is staying
But Im going away
No, were not mad, kids
Its hard to say why
Your mother and i
Dont see eye to eye
Say your prayers before you go to bed
Make sure you get yourself to school on
Time
I know youll do the things your mother
Asks
Shes gonna need you most to stay in
Line
Keep in mind your mothers gonna need
Your help a whole lot more than she
Ever did before
No more fights over little things
Because
I wont be here to stop them anymore
I know you dont want this, neither do
We
But sometimes things happen
That we cant foresee
Now try to be calm, kids
And dont look so sad
Just cause I am leaving
Ill still be your dad
Just remember I love you
And though Im not here
Just call if you need me
And Ill always be near
(repeat chorus)
Well, I have to go now
So kiss me goodbye
My eyes are just red, kids
Im too big to cry
song performed by by Cher
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Marks of Sin
You waited for Fay
by the entrance
of the outdoor
swimming pool
in Bedlam Park
the Saturday afternoon sun
still strong
the voices and screams
of the kids in the pool
coming through
the high hedge
that surrounded all
around except where
the entrance was
with its turnstiles
and changing rooms
and wire boxes
where kids
kept their clothes
Pete Badham and his cronies
had gone by and in
a few minutes before
giving you the hard stare
which you returned
with equal share
you wondered if Fay's father
had stopped her going
finding some passage
in the Bible that he claimed
made it a sin
or maybe she had been kept in
for some misdemeanour
but then you saw her
coming through the park
in a blue dress
with a white towel
wrapped under an arm
thought you might not come
you said as she came
to the entrance
Mum let me come
after Daddy'd gone
off to work
she said
she opened a hand
to show the coins
held there
her eyes you noticed
were red
as if she'd been crying
glad you're here
you said
me too
she replied
and you both went in
each to the separate areas
for boys and girls
once you had changed
and put your clothes
in the wire box
you went out
to the pool
and dived in
the cool water
and waited for Fay
to come in
Dave Walker was there
at the deep end
keeping an eye
on Badham and his cronies
giving you the thumbs up
when Fay came out
she stood hesitant
on the edge
of the pool
dressed in her black
swimming costume
come on in
you called and waved
she climbed down
into the water
and swam towards you
her fair hair
darkened by the water
her legs flapping
behind her
as she swam
her hands pushing through
the water's skin
as she came to you
she put her arms
around your neck
her damp face
close to yours
you put your arms
around her waist
and she winced
and you let go
what's up?
you asked
nothing
she said
just a bruise
and she swam off
to the edge of the pool
and you followed her
and she pulled herself
onto the edge
and sat there
looking out
at the other kids swimming
you heaved yourself
onto the edge of the pool
beside her
she looked away
towards the high hedge
and you noticed
thin red marks
on her thigh
what's that?
you asked
pointing to her thigh
sign I have sinned
she whispered
Daddy said
to show the flesh
is a sin
and wouldn't let me come
and I answered him back
and he made the mark of
me having sinned
she stared at you
and touched your hand
say nothing to anyone
she said
promise?
ok
you said
let's go swim
she said
and dived in again
you seeing
the red marks
and sensing the pain.
poem by Terry Collett
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Mid Term Break
It was mid term break
from school and she met you
at the back of your house
down by the small pond
you both called the pool
where you could sit
and watch ducks swim
and birds sing
in nearby bushes
and she said
I've just read about some nuns
who wear clothing
when they bath
so that God
can't see them naked
a magpie flew by
and you noticed
how difficult it was
to tell
its wing from tail
and you said
Would God be interested
in seeing naked nuns?
she gazed over
at the trees
on the other side
of the pool
her blue eyes
catching sunlight
Well they obviously thought so
she said
and she lay back
on the grassy bank
and you lay beside her
and she put out a hand
and her fingers
touched yours
and you lifted up
her hand and kissed it
and it tasted of soap
as if you'd dived
into her bathwater
and swam
between her thighs
How sweet you are
she said as you let
her hand go
and she held it
and looked at it
then a blackbird
swooped across the pool
noisily and broke
the momentarily magic
and she said laughing
You don't know
where my hand
may have been
and you taking in
the sunlight dancing
in her big blue eyes
Maybe not
you replied
not telling her
what
in your dream
you'd seen.
poem by Terry Collett
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Loves
I once loved skimming stones across the water
and counting the times they touched.
Carving faces of my friends in driftwood,
from early morning until dusk.
Now I’m older I watch ducks on water,
and the way they dip and dive,
and how flocks of irascible seagulls
make a deserted sky come alive.
But most of all I love watching you,
as you sleep, or wide awake.
Your ever sparkling smiling eyes,
and every breath you take.
poem by Orlando Belo
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Not For Me
Not for me she said
I don’t want to end up
like my mother
I want to reach out
and touch real life
and not end up
some man’s wife
and be endlessly
at his beck and call
and she sat
by the pond
looking over
to the other side
where the woods were dense
and reached out
and touched your hand
and you wondered
if there were still fish
in the pond
and if when
you brought your rod
the following day
you’d catch any
and you liked the way
the sunlight caught
the pond’s skin
and she said
I want to feel
being alive
feel the electric of life
run through my veins
and she leaned over
and kissed you
and placed her hand
between your thighs
and touched the hardness
of your crotch
and you said
do you know how big
the fish was
that got away
when I fished here last?
And she said
no but I know how big
the one I’ve caught is
and laughed
and released her hand
and gave you one
of her stares with her
large passionate eyes
and you noticed
a lone big bird in black
moving across
the bright blue skies.
poem by Terry Collett
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