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Such A Lovely Couple

I’m going to find a Persian cat
To live in my house and take a nap,
To calmly sit and smile on the windowsill
While gazing at sparrows singing beneath
A maple tree;
I need this type of company
When I’m lonely in the afternoon
And there’s no one to see
And nothing to do,
We’d make such a lovely couple.

poem by Uriah Hamilton
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A pair of Sparrows on my lovely Lemon Tree

Those were the days
So joyous and carefree
When I could watch the preening of
A pair of sparrows on my lovely lemon tree

Summer days were so short, winters were so long
And for endless hours one could go on a kite flying spree
When I could watch, hopping here and there
A pair of sparrows on my lovely lemon tree

Enjoying tender sunshine in winter is a past
And chapattis from an earthen hearth a history
When I could watch, assembling of a nest by
A pair of sparrows on my lovely lemon tree

What seemed to be mundane at that time
Life in my backyard so ordinary
Bliss it is in hindsight, chirping of
A pair of sparrows on my lovely lemon tree

I still sometimes motivate myself
To get off the treadmill and shake the shackles free
But can’t anymore find in my back yard
That pair of sparrows and that lovely lemon tree

A pair of sparrows on my lovely lemon tree..

A pair of sparrows on my lovely lemon tree.......

30 July 09

poem by Ravi Singh
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Tree Sparrows

Than their cousins house sparrows they are far more shy
The moment they see you into bushes or trees they do fly
They do look attractive when seen in the sunlight
Though in colouration from the house sparrows the difference does seem slight.

Tree sparrows are birds one doesn't see every day
From human dwellings from their cousins they live further away
For insects and seeds they search on the ground
And in Winter in flocks their numbers abound.

Like house sparrows chirpers they too cannot sing
But than house sparrows more wary of humans which is a good thing
They seem rather restless when humans are near
One might say of them their's is a healthy fear.

In grassy places near bushes and trees them I often do see
But they fly into cover when they notice me
Their cousins compared to them seem rather tame
Tree sparrows for them is an often used name.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Ann

I came into this lovely city about three weeks ago today,
and I've been trying to find someone that I can talk to, a friendly face to turn my way.
I walk these streets in silent sorrow, I walk my feet into the ground,
and all I see are cloudy, cold, suspicious faces, I swear to God it brings me down.
Is there no one with a smile for me, no one with a hello in their eyes?
Is there no one who will love me and help me through the dark and lonely night?
The park's so green and full of flowers and lovers lying on the lawn.
I wish I had a lady here that I could laugh with, sweet Jesus Christ, it hurts me so to be alone.
Is there no one with a smile for me, no one with a hello in their eyes?
Is there no one who will love me and help me through the dark and lonely night?
Singing la la la la la la, Singing la la la la la la.
This life is hard and full of trouble, it's painful just to live from day to day.
But if you're weary and afraid don't turn away now,
there's no reason why we have to feel this way.
Is there no one with a smile for me, no one with a hello in their eyes?
Is there no one who will love me and help me through the dark and lonely night?
Singing la la la la la la, Singing la la la la la la.
I just need someone to talk to. It hurts to be alone.
I just need someone to laugh with. It hurts to be alone.
I just want someone to love me. I need someone to talk to. And it hurts to be alone.
Singing la la la la la la, Singing la la la la la la.
Singing la la la la la la, Singing la la la la la la.

song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fire Maple Song

Turn away from the pain you dont want
Turning down to avoid them when they call
Strange words I heard a long long time ago
I wish I could go back to a summer time I knew more than twenty years ago=
Cant lay beneath the sheets we lie underneath the maple tree
Now I cant smile
Lying in the grass with the wind around us as we smile and talk
Listen to your grandma sing those country songs
Shed tell us how the maple turns to fire every four years
Wed sit in the grass all summer just to watch the autumn come around
I cant smile now
I live alone and youre so far away
I call you once a year just around the holiday
I still see you in the night lying above me in the grass
I cant smile
Turn away from the pain you dont want
Turning down to avoid them when they call
I cant believe this letter that says you died
I think Im gonna go back to the old house in north carolina and lay in the backyard
Get drunk and let the leaves just bury me
Bury me
I cant smile

song performed by by Everclear
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Building A House Of Your Own

to a newly wed couple
building a house is poetry
each nipa shingle is a memory
put on top of another to make
a roof, an imagery of protection,

each wall is respect for privacy
each beam is stability
each door is a security
each window an eye

the house is the nest of this
new found love
and then a baby is born
giving them hope
as they both shower their affection

and as love grows there
like a well tended tree
as time strengthens their company
the house you know
has become their home

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Man We Was Lonely

Man we was lonely
Yes we was lonely
And we was hard pressed to find a smile
Man we was lonely
Yes we was lonely
But now were fine all the while
I used to ride on my fast city line
Singing songs that I thought were mine alone
Now let me lie with my love for the time I am home
Man we was lonely
Yes we was lonely
And we was hard pressed to find a smile
Man we was lonely
Yes we was lonely
But now were fine all the while
Now let me lie with my love for the time I am home
Man we was lonely
Yes we was lonely
And we was hard pressed to find a smile
Man we was lonely
Yes we was lonely
But now were fine all the while
But now were fine all the while
But now were fine all the while

song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Our Cupid

Beautiful faces
All around the place
Sweet voices
From lovely persons
But what are they to me
While deep in me
I need a face and voice

Some are in company
Some are lonely
Some hate the company
Some jealous of the lonely

Do you long for hawks? Yes, hawks!
Lonely in thought for hawks
Better be lonely
Than be ripped apart
Sucked like orange
And dumped as garbage
One day will be your strike from the cupid

poem by Izuoma Ibe
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The Mouse and the Grouse

The teeny, tiny mouse said to the finely feathered grouse
“I’d like to come and visit you in your lofty, lovely house.”
The finely feathered grouse smiled at the teeny, tiny mouse
And said, “You can’t since I'm saving it for my future spouse.”

The sad teeny, tiny mouse said, as tears started to douse,
“I’m lonely and just wanted to say hello, finely feathered grouse.”
Well, the finely feathered grouse with his lofty, lovely house
Was lonely too since he hadn’t yet found his future spouse.

But how could a mouse so teeny, tiny and a grouse so fine of feather
Ever visit each other and have a talk together?
They had nothing in common and their lives had different starts.
Although one thing was the same; they both had hurting hearts.

No one had ever visited the finely feathered grouse
And he did like friendly words uttered by the teeny, tiny mouse.
As mister mouse gazed aloft, sir grouse returned that smile
And suddenly blurted out, “Come on up and we’ll chat for awhile.”

Overjoyed, the teeny, tiny mouse jumped, but just bumped the tree.
Then tears wet ears to tail as teeny tiny moaned mournfully,
“You can fly free through the air, but alas, I’m earthbound.
There’s no hope since you live in a tree, but my house is on the ground.”

Suddenly, a star from the heavens flashed an idea for these two.
Perhaps they could visit together if both tried something new.
The finely feathered grouse left his lofty, lovely house
And eagerly landed in a bush near the star struck tiny mouse.
In one hop teeny, tiny leapt toward the bush, and I’ve heard tell
That the friendship of grouse and mouse has been doing very well.
(Illustrated book available direct from author)

poem by Gregory Huyette
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Paradise Found

The azure, clear sky above me
With its fiery eye staring
Down at an early morning scene:
A house sparrows warning alarm
Of my close approaching footsteps
Seemed to awaken the other
Residents of the forestland:
A gray squirrel pops his head out
From behind a maple tree trunk
To investigate what the noise
Is all about, and then disappears.
Dewy heads of dandelions-
Like miniature suns- light my way
Along this path to paradise.

poem by Albert Ahearn
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Our Tree House

As children, my dearest friend and
I began planning to build a tree
house. We searched until we
finially found the perfect tree.

Along with our brothers, we began
to gather wood, and pieces of
fragments for the roof. When all
the material was gathered, the
construction began.

We worked day after day, endlessly
until we saw the tree house coming
together. Little by little it took
shape. At last it was time for the
curtains to be hung.Our lovely dish
towels were hung from tree limbs.

Now for the furniture. Old boards
were nailed together for our chairs.
Little pieces of cloth attached for
the covers.We were getting ready to
move in. In our childish eyes, it
was so beautiful.

So many happy hours were spent there.
Every afternoon when we arrived home
from school, we met at our tree house.
We talked, laughed, whispered secrets.
Enjoyed our tea parties, and the time
spent there.

One summer afternoon, sad news arrived.
My friend was moving to another city,
far away.Leaving me and the tree house
behind. Inside I cried. Suddenly I
was alone. Now it seemed so big and
lonely.Before so small and full of
life.

As we walked away that hot summer
afternoon so long ago, holding hands.
we knew life for us would never be
the same. We made a pledge to each
other and set a date someday we would
return.

Our tree house remained, but started
looking old and battered from the
storms of life.I no longer went
there, as I also moved on to another
city. Before leaving I returned to
our childhood fantasy, saddened and
whispered goodby. Walked away with
tear filled eyes.Promising to return
someday.

The years have flown by, and today
I am returning to the place I so
loved as a child. Looking at the
house old and worn. yet so lovely
and inviting.

Climbing the broken ladder, I went
inside. Our curtains were tattered
but still remain. Side by side our
dolls were sleeping in their tiny
beds. On the table a tiny tea set.
Attached to my friends doll a note
reading.

DEAR HEATHER;

I cannot attend our tea party today,
as we planned.Someday we will meet
at the big tree house in the sky.
There we will drink our tea from
from golden goblets. I am here now,
setting the table, and preparing
the tea for our party, waiting
to welcome your arrival
Your childhood friend, with love
Mary:

poem by Heather Burns
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Singing Tree

(words & music by owens - solberg)
Youre the one who beckoned the wind
And fanned the flame when our love began
So dont pretend you dont know me
Our names are carved on you, singing tree
Oh singing tree
Sing to me
Call your friend
The roving wind
Maybe he can find my love
And bring her back, singing tree
Your leaves have turned from green to blue
Sometimes I think you loved her too
But since she left and our love died
You stand petrified, singing tree
Oh sing to me
Singing tree
Call your friend
The roving wind
Maybe he can find my love
And bring her back, singing tree
Oh sing to me
Singing tree
Call your friend
The roving wind
Maybe he can find my love

song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Beautiful Song

A Beautiful Song. (Ink Spots)

“I don’t want to set the world on fire” what a lovely song.
But I’m disturbed by sparrows, sit in my orange tree and
make a racket, so much for bird song. Out on the terrace
I stretch out my arms pretend to be an eagle, they fly off.
But they soon return realising I’m not much of an eagle.
I throw pebbles at them, terrified miniature mountains,
that only get to fly when someone, say, me throws them.
I still hear the sparrows sit in my neighbour’s orange tree,
argue about territories and no- fly- zones. A flurry of angry
wings, what is this a civil war? High above on the blue sky,
a bald eagle circles. “I don’t want to set the world on fire.”

poem by Oskar Hansen
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Singing All Day

Singing all day, singing 'bout nothing.
Singing all day, singing 'bout nothing.
Singing all day, singing 'bout nothing,
Oo, my, my, my,
Oo, my, my, my.
Went down to the station to look for her there,
Looked through the crowds for a glimpse of her hair,
Nothing to see but the crowds keep a-staring at me,
My, my,
Oo, my, my, my.
Down in the street, tryn to remember,
Shuffling my feet outside a menswear,
Is that her in the fur coat?
No its not december yet,
My, my, my,
Oo, my, my, my.
Singing all day, singing 'bout nothing.
Back to the house, maybe shell phone me,
Singing my song, feeling so lonely.
Ill sing very softly, so if the phone rings
I can hear it, I can hear it.
Singing all day, singing 'bout nothing.
Singing all day, singing 'bout nothing.
Singing all day, singing 'bout nothing,
Oo, my, my, my,
Oo, my, my, my.

song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Day Of Sunshine

It was such a lovely sunshine-day,
The house and the yard couldn't hold me;
I roved to the woods, on my back I lay,
In cradle of fancy rolled me;
But there were ants, and gnats that bite,
The horse-fly was keen, the wasp showed fight.

'Dear me, don't you want to be out in this fine
weather?' -said mother, who sat on the steps and sang.

It was such a lovely sunshine-day,
The house and the yard couldn't hold me;
A meadow I found, on my back I lay,
And sang what my spirit told me;
Then snakes came crawling, a fathom long,
To bask in the sun,-I fled with my song.

'In such blessed weather we can go barefoot,'-said mother,
as she pulled off her stockings.

It was such a lovely sunshine-day,
The house and the yard couldn't hold me;
I loosened a boat, on my back I lay,
While blithely the current bowled me;
But hot grew the sun, and peeled my nose;
Enough was enough, and to land I chose.

'Now these are just the days to make hay in,'- said mother,
as she stuck the rake in it.

It was such a lovely sunshine-day,
The house and the yard couldn't hold me;
I climbed up a tree, oh, what bliss to play,
As cooling the breeze consoled me;
But worms soon fell on my neck, by chance,
And jumping, I cried: ''T is the Devil's own dance!'

'Yes, if the cows aren't sleek and shiny to-day, they'll
never be so,'-said mother, gazing up the hillside.

It was such a lovely sunshine-day,
The house and the yard couldn't hold me;
I dashed to the waterfall's endless play,
There only could peace enfold me.
The shining sun saw me drown and die,-
If you made this ditty, 't was surely not I.

'Three more such sunshine-days, and everything will
be in,'-said mother, and went to make my bed.

poem by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
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The Kingfisher

It was the Rainbow gave thee birth,
And left thee all her lovely hues;
And, as her mother’s name was Tears,
So runs it in my blood to choose
For haunts the lonely pools, and keep
In company with trees that weep.
Go you and, with such glorious hues,
Live with proud peacocks in green parks;
On lawns as smooth as shining glass,
Let every feather show its marks;
Get thee on boughs and clap thy wings
Before the windows of proud kings.
Nay, lovely Bird, thou art not vain;
Thou hast no proud, ambitious mind;
I also love a quiet place
That’s green, away from all mankind;
A lonely pool, and let a tree
Sigh with her bosom over me.

poem by William Henry Davies
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Initial Attraction

What lies beneath the surface smile?
which you display to everyone?
The mask you wear to be in style.
What lies beneath is yours alone.

Does it indicate interest?
What lies beneath the surface smile?
And will I perhaps pass the test
enjoy your company for a while.

Is it a sign of practiced guile?
or simple act of self defence.
What lies beneath the surface smile?
Must I rely on my sixth sense?

My need to know grows more intense
I am prepared to wait awhile
to try and gain your confidence.
What lies beneath the surface smile?

(poeticpiers/20/07/2007)

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Busy Doin Nothin

I had to fix a lot of things this morning
cause they were so scrambled
But now its okay
I tell you Ive got enough to do
The afternoon was filled up with phone calls
What a hot sticky day, yeah yeah yeah
The air is cooling down
Take all the time you need
Its a lovely night
If you decide to come
Youre gonna do it right
Drive for a couple miles
Youll see a sign and turn left
For a couple blocks
Next is mine, youll turn left on a little road
Its a bumpy one
Youll see a white fence
Move the gate and drive through on the left side
Come right in
And youll find me in my house somewhere
Keeping busy while I wait
I get a lot of thoughts in the morning
I write em all down
If it wasnt for that
Id forget em in a while
And lately Ive been thinking ôbout a good friend
Id like to see more of, yeah yeah yeah
I think Ill make a call
I wrote a number down
But I lost it
So I searched through my pocket book
I couldnt find it
So I sat and concentrated on the number
And slowly it came to me
So I dialed it
And I let it ring a few times
There was no answer
So I let it ring a little more
Still no answer
So I hung up the telephone
Got some paper and sharpened up a pencil
And wrote a letter to my friend

song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Four Angels

As Adam lay a-dreaming beneath the Apple Tree
The Angel of the Earth came down, and offered Earth in fee;
But Adam did not need it,
Nor the plough he would not speed it,
Singing: --"Earth and Water, Air and Fire,
What more can mortal man desire?"
(The Apple Tree's in bud)

As Adam lay a-dreaming beneath the Apple Tree
The Angel of the Waters offered all the Seas in fee;
But Adam would not take 'em,
Nor the ships he wouldn't make 'em,
Singing:--"Water, Earth and Air and Fire,
What more can mortal man desire? "
(The Apple Tree's in leaf.)

As Adam lay a-dreaming beneath the Apple Tree
The Angel of the Air he offered all the Air in fee;
But Adam did not crave it,
Nor the flight he wouldn't brave it,
Singing: --"Air and Water, Earth and Fire,
What more can mortal man desire:"
(The Apple Tree's in bloom.)

As Adam lay a-dreaming beneath the Apple Tree
The Angel of the Fire rose up and not a word said he;
But he wished a flame and made it,
And in Adam's heart he laid it,
Singing: --"Fire, Fire, burning Fire!
Stand up, and reach your heart's desire!"
(The Apple Blossom's set.)

As Adam was a-working outside of Eden-Wall,
He used the Earth, he used the Seas, he used the Air and all;
Till out of black disaster
He arose to be a master
Of Earth and Water, Air and Fire,
But never reached his heart's desire!
(The Apple Tree's cut down!)

poem by Rudyard Kipling
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The Wood Road

If I were to walk this way
Hand in hand with Grief,
I should mark that maple-spray
Coming into leaf.
I should note how the old burrs
Rot upon the ground.
Yes, though Grief should know me hers
While the world goes round,
It could not if truth be said
This was lost on me:
A rock-maple showing red,
Burrs beneath a tree.

poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay
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What Type Of Man

What kind of a man goes after a married woman
What kind of a man does it and proclaims his faith in GOD
What kind of man does the things that he shouldn't
Does that type of man think that he will never be caught.
What type of man leaves his children and his wife
What type of man puts his needs and his wants first
What type of a man is scared to fight his own fights
Does that type of man cares whose soul that he hurts.
What type of man talks behind other peoples backs
What type of man lies to make himself look tall in front of others
What type of man is scared to admit the guilt that he has done
Does that type of man think that we are his brothers.
What type of man will not work for a living
What type of man wants others to take care of him
What type of man thinks he is something but he's not
Does that type of man thinks that manhood is his friend.
What type of man cannot be used as an example
What type of man does not keep promises that he's made
What type of man should not be father to any child
Does that type of man know the price that a real man has paid.
What type of man thinks but he cannot think
What type of man looks but he truly does not see
What type of man hears but he does not listen
Does that type of man know that he could never be me.

Randy L. McClave

poem by Randy McClave
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