Lush
Near the flowering meadow-
Lilac's they scent the breeze-
Veiled 'neath motion-filled skies-
Are the Oak and Cherry Trees...
Running in crystal clear ripples-
O'er pebbles of days of past time-
'Tis a silver sparkled brook-
With small hills, nearby to climb...
The Vale 'tis sheer enchantment-
Pastoral views, they do abound-
Rustic-Bucholic-themed-
These visions, breath-takingly astound!
The colour-splashed panoramas of: The Artist-
From His palette to His feathery brush-
Done in oils or in water colours-
Captured are His Vales, Most Lush!
poem by Theodora Onken
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Related quotes
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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Thank You
Rescued from gutters of days of past-
I breathe in the fresh essence you bring...
Lingering within our blue sky veiled world-
Filled to overflow with the rebirth of new Spring-
Tiptoeing myself through the daffodils-
Embracing myself in green tendrils enhanced by loam-
Surreal views of cascading waterfalls...
Aware that i am at last finally home-
Ever near in the sun kissed emerald vale-
You continue to cleanse and warm my frail soul-
I with clear visual green eyes-
No longer in need of braile-i am out of my dark hole...
Enchanted and reborn 'neath-
The Willow Tree-
Baptised anew in your forgiving arms-
Forever your presence embraces me-
A shelter you are from lifes horrendous storms...
And very near 'neath the butter rays of your sun-
The tulips and violets-they sway-
Rhythmically in the lilting zephr's-
Releasing fragrance- in all flowering May...
So Thank You Again my Beloved Savior-
For finding my lost and ignoble soul-
And allowing me one more Springtime life-
Upon borrowed time-my spirit now glows!
poem by Theodora Onken
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I Walked Out One Evening
I walked out one evening, ,
as the sun was setting low.
Trees were whispering in the breeze,
as it yielded a gentle blow.
Skies transformed to reddish hues,
as my feet crossed o’er the ground,
Then along the path by the brook,
dead leaves lay scattered all around,
Birdsong filled the loud silence,
one last song, for twilight creeps.
The sun has set behind the trees,
as the darkness its vigil keeps.
I walked out one evening,
observing such beauty spread.
To experience the colours,
orange and gold so finely wed.
The music of the water,
as it trickled down the stream.
Such peacefulness, silent, calming,
a perfect floating tranquil dream.
Now as the day is ending,
such visions assail the eyes,
One royal sky ‘s magnificent,
enhanced by the night’s fireflies.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Green and blue
Green and blue
First-named of colours believe these two.
They first of colours by men were seen
This grass colour, tree colour,
Sky colour, sea colour,
Magic-named, mystic-souled, blue and green.
Later came
Small subtle colours like tongues of flame,
Small jewel colours for treasure trove,
Not fruit colour, flower colour,
Cloud colour, shower colour,
But purple, amethyst, violet and mauve.
These remain,
Two broad fair colours for our larger gain
Stretched underfoot or spreading wide on high,
Green beech colour, vine colour,
Gum colour, pine colour,
Blue of the noonday and the moonlit sky.
poem by Lesbia Harford
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The Crocodile
The crock
The small lake in the vale is muddy brown and
I see what looks like an uprooted tree floating
in the middle, the tree disappears and the water
ripples like it suddenly feels cold. There has
been rumours about sheep disappearing when
grazing near the lake but since there is a good
road nearby, rustlers have been blamed; mind,
dogs too have vanished and no self-respecting
thieve can possible be interested in our motley
canines. The breeze that made the water ripple
has died out and in sharp spring sunlight I can
see the tree again, but it seems to be lower in
the water. The lake gets smaller and browner
every year less rain falls now then in the past,
a few years hence it will be a piece of dry land
and a dusty crocodile.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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The Reptile
The Reptile
The small lake in the vale is muddy brown and
I see what looks like an uprooted tree floating
in the middle, the tree disappears and the water
ripples like it suddenly feels cold. There has
been rumours about sheep disappearing when
grazing near the lake but since there is a good
road nearby, rustlers have been blamed; mind,
dogs too have vanished and no self-respecting
thieve can possible be interested in our motley
canines. The breeze that made the water ripple
has died out and in sharp spring sunlight I can
see the tree again, but it seems to be lower in
the water. The lake gets smaller and browner
every year less rain falls now then in the past,
a few years hence it will be a piece of dry land,
with, perhaps, a crocodile skeleton on.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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DreamDiet
DreamDiet
by Ted L Glines
After fasting for
four long days
(old native shaman stuff)
cleaned out my system
saw visions (woo hoo)
I spent four more days
ingesting chocolate milk
nothing but chocolate milk
(Borden's Dutch Chocolate)
and I felt great
had lost some weight
and when I peed
my water came out clear
and thus I was enlightened
(old native shaman stuff)
(umm bum-bum-bum-bum umm...)
I suddenly realized
my system loved chocolate
gobbled it up
water running clear
(no chocolate particles in it)
losing weight
and after several months
am down to 80 pounds
water still running clear
and the visions
(woo hoo)
I may be growing small
but I am delicious
am writing my will
bequeathing my body
(condensing as it is)
to Hershey's
poem by Ted L Glines
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Love In The Air
The moonlight shimmered on the water
of a small woodland stream.
We sit on the bank,
watching moonbeams dancing
on the growing ripples on the water,
from the pebbles that we throw.
The sound of the wise old owl,
and the rustle of the leaves
ruffled by the breeze.
The plop of our pebbles
dropping into the stream,
and our two hearts beating,
as we sit together
with arms around one another
underneath the moon.
We sit there enjoying
the love that is in the air.
24 June 2007
poem by David Harris
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I Colour My World
Within the colours of this day--
I find myself recounting the days gone by...
Cherishing every blessed memory...
While gazing at the sky upon high;
I colour myself a warm shade of pink...
As i reminisce over past glorious time...
I colour myself red-with a love memory-in my head-
All collected together and written in rhyme;
I colour myself various shades of blue...
In remembering the loss and sorrows of my past...
That took a large part-of my heart...
These memories ever-engrained to last;
I colour my memories a bright yellow...
As i bask in reminders of my days 'neath the sun...
Happiness back then-and the where and the when...
All-a multi-shade of ONE!
I colour myself a rainbow...
A full spectrum of the shades of yore...
I am embraced in their true brillance--
From this day to the days of long before! ;
June 3,2010
The Essence
poem by Theodora Onken
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Light and Movement
The sky is blue bright sunshine shows
the changing colours of the trees.
Which ripple in the playful breeze
A changing tapestry that glows
with autumn colours which compose,
contrasts and subtle harmonies
An artist palette sure to please
the eye of anyone who knows.
That they are free to look their fill
on Mother Natures artistry.
A still life which is never still
but always moving fluidly.
Obedient to the artists will
eschewing mediocrity.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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My beautiful flowering trees
My beautiful flowering trees
One day I shall buy some land
Plant countless seeds
And watch them grow
Into beautiful flowering trees
A cool breeze
Will bring me
Sweet fragrances
From a thousand flowering trees
I shall listen
To the songs
From birds perched
In the tall flowering trees
I shall play
With my children and theirs
In the vast expanse of green
Amongst beautiful flowering trees
One day I shall rest
Passing into oblivion
My ashes scattered
Amidst the beautiful flowering trees
by Ash (Rishi's Dad)
poem by Rishi Menon
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The Winds Message
There came a whisper down the Bland between the dawn and dark,
Above the tossing of the pines, above the river's flow;
It stirred the boughs of giant gums and stalwart iron-bark;
It drifted where the wild ducks played amid the swamps below;
It brought a breath of mountain air from off the hills of pine,
A scent of eucalyptus trees in honey-laden bloom;
And drifting, drifting far away along the Southern line
It caught from leaf and grass and fern a subtle strange perfume.
It reached the toiling city folk, but few there were that heard--
The rattle of their busy life had choked the whisper down;
And some but caught a fresh-blown breeze with scent of pine that stirred
A thought of blue hills far away beyond the smoky town;
And others heard the whisper pass, but could not understand
The magic of the breeze's breath that set their hearts aglow,
Nor how the roving wind could bring across the Overland
A sound of voices silent now and songs of long ago.
But some that heard the whisper clear were filled with vague unrest;
The breeze had brought its message home, they could not fixed abide;
Their fancies wandered all the day towards the blue hills' breast,
Towards the sunny slopes that lie along the riverside,
The mighty rolling western plains are very fair to see,
Where waving to the passing breeze the silver myalls stand,
But fairer are the giant hills, all rugged though they be,
From which the two great rivers rise that run along the Bland.
Oh! rocky range and rugged spur and river running clear,
That swings around the sudden bends with swirl of snow-white foam,
Though we, your sons are far away, we sometimes seem to hear
The message that the breezes bring to call the wanderers home.
The mountain peaks are white with snow that feeds a thousand rills,
Along the rive banks the maize grows tall on virgin land,
And we shall live to see once more those sunny southern hills,
And strike once more the bridle track that leads along the Bland.
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
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Black Silver
Silver is the mirror,
Where colours cannot run
From one into another
For silver it has none
Silver is a blackness
Which defies pure light to come
And when it does reflects it
Its image still as one
So that when you look upon it
Your face it will become
Not in silver, but the colours,
With which your face does run
Then with your world behind you
By light reflected one
Not in blackness, but in colours
You are colours of the sun
All mirrors do remind us
That colour is the light
And that they do not see us
In the darkness of the night
For colours are but energy
From the spectrum as it falls
On everything around us
Except, from silver balls
The colours of the rainbow
The colours in the sky
The colours of our galaxy
Are in a baby’s eye
Colours all around us
Enable us to see
That the world in which we live, is part of us,
Lifes chemistry
poem by Egal Bohen
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The Forest
(9/5/12)
I walked through the forest of beautiful tall trees
And felt the softness of a gentle breeze
I saw a rabbit running by, as I looked up to the sky
There was a squirrel jumping from tree to tree
Landing on the branches so gracefully.
I heard the crickets making their beautiful sound
But there was none that could be found.
I could hear a woodpecker pecking away
But I knew it was far away.
I heard the shrill of the crows in flight
But the trees covered them from my sight
I heard the sound of a running brook
As I searched to take a look.
The forest with all its sights
Made my heart jump with delight
All the beauties that GOD has given
Is in this forest where his creatures are living.
I found the brook which was clear as glass
And the fish jumping- creating a splash
The suns reflection on the water
like sparkling diamonds in the brook
as I got closer to take a look.
If and when time permits
Go to the forest - take a trip
Look at all that GOD has given
This is what makes life worth living.
poem by Louis Rams
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Lavender Fileds
Running free with your heartbeat -
Running away from the bad dreams -
Embraced in your sweet arms -
Come Rose dropp Kisses -
Flowing in billowing streams.
Lavender Fields of our desire -
Running with you, throughout time -
The passion-filled moments spent -
In Our: 'Most heavenly Climb'
Never one to be sentimental -
But your romance, it took my hand -
And it led me towards:
'True Loves Most Eternal Land'
Once, i was running on empty -
Once, running away, in sheer vain -
Now that i have you beside me -
Gone is all emptimess and pain.
Roses and Lavender breeze -
Dreams weave, their very own way -
Together, we are:
'Forever'
Alone, in Lavender Fields, we now lay.
poem by Theodora Onken
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One Hundred Ripples
One hundred ripples I mark today
One hundred steps along my way
One hundred steps lead to the pond
One hundred trees there do surround
One hundred birds nesting among the trees
One hundred bees filling the air with these
One hundred bees buzzing about in the air
One hundred flowers are pollinating there
One hundred flowers provide the aromas sweet
For one hundred bouquets given to lovers as treat
One hundred lovers walk the winding pathway
One hundred times to find romance there each day
One hundred times they will reach to explore
One hundred pebbles found along the pond shore
One hundred pebbles carry wishes through the air
One hundred ripples on surface creating there
One hundred ripples then spreading out will begin
One hundred waves soon lapping at the shore again
One hundred waves providing the means for
One hundred more pebbles to reach the shore
One hundred pebbles scatter along the pathway
One hundred steps retraced at the end of the day
One hundred small steps... this latest poem was conceived to denote
One hundred little ripples... spreading from 100 poems I wrote
poem by Mary Havran
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The Wrong Brush
From his horse he has had a vision,
A diverted interruption, we used to say.
No suffering there, their pain is rules,
Ones to explain to the masses.
Taking the wrong brush, colours fall
From the palette, so commanding,
Rousing no feeling, in every small atom,
Very close to feeling the vibration.
The very tears close and open,
To imagine a dramatic great man
Requires an artist’s touch of the pen,
Instead the art of writing is complete.
poem by Naveed Akram
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To Climb Above and Beyond
I've seen the valleys green and lush,
From high atop a hill
Splashed and nature plushed!
And mountaincaps from where I stood,
Were even standing higher still!
I've seen clear skies and Eagles fly,
And wondered about the Sun with squinting eyes.
I've retreated alone to leave this beauty condoned.
To the wildlife I visited left to many to be unshown.
And when I returned to obligations committed...
I sat and felt so blessed I admitted.
That I was able to climb above and beyond,
Limitations I thought were my best had traveled on!
There is much more I want to explore to test...
After accomplishing a nod of a nap teased rest!
To climb above and beyond to better the rest.
I just want to do it...
To add more steps to my conquests!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Aquamarine
In aquamarine ran off my warmth traversing
mild meadows with swallows of ash
past the pink sunset
Three cherry Cardinals swooped past partly pleased
the brook trickled near
Evading were than icon imaginings
the following Fawns
the spotted taupe-hazel Fawn
Three taupe Robins at a white well
The magic cello hummed earlier
Sword at side passed over my warmth
through the falling cascades
off on the pink sunset
Three cherry Cardinals swooped past partly pleased
The level prairie sat below
Supple were they sandal-ed sand
The sheer slim fawns
The discomfited shuffled Fawns
Three graceless Mothers in the green dell
The ravenous barb earlier crooned
Curtsy at waist my warmth traversing
Casing the waterfall behind
Off in the pink sunset
Three cherry Cardinals swooped past partly pleased
The vertical crests sat above
Brighter be they than tranquil birth
The sheer slim Fawns
The taller edgy Fawns
Three higher Vicars at the mild meadow
Adept Huntsmen
Ran below
In aquamarine ran off my warmth traversing
mild meadows with swallows of ash
past the pink sunset
Three cherry Cardinals
And neither was chosen
as the smoke spewed Black
Simole elegance for M 'lady Tara
The beauty of a winter scene
that’s limned in simple black and white,
with here and there an evergreen.
To me a source of sheer delight.
Although I love the autumn hues
which recently were on display.
Replaced by austere winter views
I see the world a different way.
A pleasure to an artist’s eye,
although a limited palette.
I see no earthly reason why.
When spring arrives we should forget.
The winter beauty we have seen
because the trees are turning green.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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