The Corn Harvest
Summer !
the painting is organized
about a young
reaper enjoying his
noonday rest
completely
relaxed
from his morning labors
sprawled
in fact sleeping
unbuttoned
on his back
the women
have brought him his lunch
perhaps
a spot of wine
they gather gossiping
under a tree
whose shade
carelessly
he does not share the
resting
center of
their workaday world.
poem by William Carlos Williams
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Related quotes
Sweet Summer Lovin
Though the sun may be dawning
Youre the one that lights the morning
As I awake to the heaven
Of your sweet summer lovin
By a stream in the country
Running barefoot and feeling free
While the love in our hearts blend
Into sweet summer lovin
Sweet summer lovin in the dandelions
Sweet summer lovin keeps me high as candy wine
When that big red balloon sets
Like a painting across the west
As the sky turns a crimson blue
As the world turns for me and you
By the light of the moon glowing
While the warm summer wind blows
cross the sill of your window
Well be letting our love flow
Sweet summer lovin in the dandelions
Sweet summer lovin keeps me high as candy wine
Sweet summer lovin in the dandelions
Sweet summer lovin keeps me high as candy wine
Sweet summer lovin
Sweet summer lovin
Mmm...
Sweet summer lovin
Mmm...
Sweet summer lovin
I love your sweet summer lovin
Sweet summer lovin
Sweet summer lovin
Mmm...
Sweet summer lovin
Mmm...
Sweet summer lovin
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Certainty
CERTAINTY.
`TOMORROW IS PROMISED TO NO MAN`, NEED NOT BE SAID
YOU’LL JUST FIND ONE DAY, ”HOLD ON, I’M DEAD.
I HAVEN’T BEEN TO SPAIN, HAVEN’T BEEN TO FRANCE.
I’VE HAD A BIT OF SMOKE THAT LEFT ME IN A TRANCE
I’VE SEEN A FEW SUNSETS, HAD SOME NICE WINE ‘
EVEN TRIED TO GROW MY OWN VINE “
WE KNOW NOT THE LENGTH OF OUR DAYS
WE DEPART IN MANY DIFFERENT WAYS
WE SHARE OUR TIME BETWEEN REST AND PLAY
AND MAKE NO PREPERATION FOR THAT FINAL DAY
WILL YOU HAVE A CHOICE B’TWIX ST PETER
AND THAT FEARED GRIM REAPER
YOU’RE PRIVELIGED TO HAVE KNOWN THIS WORLD YOU MIGHT SAY
AS THEY GATHER TO CAST YOUR ASHES AWAY.
BRIAN ROY SKYERS
poem by Brian Roy Skyers
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The Giving Tree
Once there was a tree....
and she loved a little boy.
And everyday the boy would come
and he would gather her leaves
and make them into crowns
and play king of the forest.
He would climb up her trunk
and swing from her branches
and eat apples.
And they would play hide-and-go-seek.
And when he was tired,
he would sleep in her shade.
And the boy loved the tree....
very much.
And the tree was happy.
But time went by.
And the boy grew older.
And the tree was often alone.
Then one day the boy came to the tree
and the tree said, 'Come, Boy, come and
climb up my trunk and swing from my
branches and eat apples and play in my
shade and be happy.'
'I am too big to climb and play' said
the boy.
'I want to buy things and have fun.
I want some money?'
'I'm sorry,' said the tree, 'but I
have no money.
I have only leaves and apples.
Take my apples, Boy, and sell them in
the city. Then you will have money and
you will be happy.'
And so the boy climbed up the
tree and gathered her apples
and carried them away.
And the tree was happy.
But the boy stayed away for a long time....
and the tree was sad.
And then one day the boy came back
and the tree shook with joy
and she said, 'Come, Boy, climb up my trunk
and swing from my branches and be happy.'
'I am too busy to climb trees,' said the boy.
'I want a house to keep me warm,' he said.
'I want a wife and I want children,
and so I need a house.
Can you give me a house ?'
' I have no house,' said the tree.
'The forest is my house,
but you may cut off
my branches and build a
house. Then you will be happy.'
And so the boy cut off her branches
and carried them away
to build his house.
And the tree was happy.
But the boy stayed away for a long time.
And when he came back,
the tree was so happy
she could hardly speak.
'Come, Boy,' she whispered,
'come and play.'
'I am too old and sad to play,'
said the boy.
'I want a boat that will
take me far away from here.
Can you give me a boat?'
'Cut down my trunk
and make a boat,' said the tree.
'Then you can sail away...
and be happy.'
And so the boy cut down her trunk
and made a boat and sailed away.
And the tree was happy
... but not really.
And after a long time
the boy came back again.
'I am sorry, Boy,'
said the tree,' but I have nothing
left to give you -
My apples are gone.'
'My teeth are too weak
for apples,' said the boy.
'My branches are gone,'
said the tree. ' You
cannot swing on them - '
'I am too old to swing
on branches,' said the boy.
'My trunk is gone, ' said the tree.
'You cannot climb - '
'I am too tired to climb' said the boy.
'I am sorry,' sighed the tree.
'I wish that I could give you something....
but I have nothing left.
I am just an old stump.
I am sorry....'
'I don't need very much now,' said the boy.
'just a quiet place to sit and rest.
I am very tired.'
'Well,' said the tree, straightening
herself up as much as she could,
'well, an old stump is good for sitting and resting
Come, Boy, sit down. Sit down and rest.'
And the boy did.
And the tree was happy.
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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Since Nine O'Clock
Half past twelve. Time has gone by quickly
since nine o'clock when I lit the lamp
and sat down here. I've been sitting without reading,
without speaking. Completely alone in the house,
whom could I talk to?
Since nine o'clock when I lit the lamp
the shade of my young body
has come to haunt me, to remind me
of shut scented rooms,
of past sensual pleasure - what daring pleasure.
And it's also brought back to me
streets now unrecognizable,
bustling night clubs now closed,
theatres and cafes no longer here.
The shade of my young body
also brought back the things that make us sad:
family grief, separations,
the feelings of my own people, feelings
of the dead so little acknowledged.
Half past twelve. How the time has gone by.
Half past twelve. How the years have gone by.
poem by Constantine P. Cavafy
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Wine Me Up
(faron young/billy deaton)
I'm the center of attention in this bar room
Cause i've got teh biggest heartache of the year
And each night those swingin' doors reach out to me and draw me in
'cause they know each night that i'll be back to wine me up again
Chorus:
Wine me up turn me on and watch me cry for you
Lately drinkin' warm red wine is all i want to do
I never know how tight i'll wine me up 'til i walk in
I don't care cause i'll be back to wine me up again
I'd like to thank the folks who raise the grapes way up in california
And i'm hopin this will be their biggest year
'cause scarlet waters all that's left to keep me hangin on
That's why i'll try to wine me up each day and night next year
song performed by by Gary Allan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The time eclipsed
Sir, it was, of course, a fact
That I longed to share with you
A lunch, with my heart at it.
But now at late afternoon,
Having overcome the appetite,
I couldn’t get at what you brought.
Let us reminisce of our past hunger.
29.11.2004
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Understanding the mind of a young woman
You cannot understand the mind of a young woman
Its like a religion
Facts and myths are told
Always beyond comprehension
You will figure out the facts
Small, little facts
Through the years of being together
Yet when you gather
Will your fellow man
(O so much better!)
Every single fact you tell is different from another
A man will tell a fact of a woman,
another man will say it is not true
And tell them his own facts
In which another argument will pursue
I shall explain more simply
Why it is pointless to understand the mind of a young woman
Because all women are different!
Men have the same mind
Women are individuals
She has her own feelings, experiences-
Secrets…
The mind of women is not for men to know
Because it is ours alone
Only women possess this gift
Or curse some may call it
To understand the mind of a woman
You must be one of our own
So if you wish to be one of our own
You may ask us, the secrets of a woman
If not
Don’t even try
poem by Fidelis Patronus
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Let me keep watch
Let me keep watch
Over your body when
You are resting in peace.
Let me sacrifice
My meditation to you
When you are resting in peace
Let me protect your body
From rotting
When you are resting in peace.
Let me protect your memories
And dreamless dreams
When you are resting in peace.
Let me plant a fruit tree
Above you that I may still eat
When you are resting in peace.
Let me storm the gates of heaven
When you are resting in peace.
Let me give you oblation
Of our experience
When you are resting in peace.
Let me breathe for you
When you are resting in peace.
Let me douse the fires of hell
When you are resting in peace.
Let me glorify your name
When you are resting in peace.
Let me be your counterpoint
When you are resting in peace.
Let me overcome the light
When you are resting in peace.
Let me touch your organs
When you are resting in peace.
Let me drink your water
When you are resting in peace.
Let me describe your bones
When you are resting in peace.
Let me dream your dreams
When you are resting in peace.
poem by David E. Patton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Canadian Chronicles 19
Sitting in the sunshine
enjoying the silence of the day.
Relaxing, as all my worries
seem a million miles away.
I don’t want reality to ever kick in
as I sit enjoying the sunshine
on a peaceful summer’s day.
I am enjoying all nature’s natural sounds
like the birds chirping in the trees.
Enjoying summers stance
as the smell of new mowed grass
perfumes the summer day.
It is just like heaven
relaxing on a summer’s day.
13 June 2009
poem by David Harris
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A Girl's Autumn Reverie
We plucked a red rose, you and I
All in the summer weather;
Sweet its perfume and rare its bloom,
Enjoyed by us together.
The rose is dead, the summer fled,
And bleak winds are complaining;
We dwell apart, but in each heart
We find the thorn remaining.
We sipped a sweet wine, you and I,
All in the summer weather.
The beaded draught we lightly quaffed,
And filled the glass together.
Together we watched its rosy glow,
And saw its bubbles glitter;
Apart, alone, we only know
The lees are very bitter.
We walked in sunshine, you and I,
All in the summer weather.
The very night seemed noonday bright.
When we two were together.
I wonder why with our good-by
O'er hill and vale and meadow
There fell such shade, our paths seemed laid
Forevermore in shadow.
We dreamed a sweet dream, you and I,
All in the summer weather,
Where rose and wine and warm sunshine
Were mingled in together.
We dreamed that June was with us yet,
We woke to find December.
We dreamed that we two could forget,
We woke but to remember.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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We can be like they are.
All our times have come
Here but now they're gone
Seasons don't fear the reaper
Nor do the wind, the sun or the rain..we can be like they are
Come on baby...don't fear the reaper
Baby take my hand...don't fear the reaper
We'll be able to fly...don't fear the reaper
Baby I'm your man...
Valentine is done
Here but now they're gone
Romeo and Juliet
Are together in eternity...Romeo and Juliet
40,000 men and women everyday...Like Romeo and Juliet
40,000 men and women everyday...Redefine happiness
Another 40,000 coming everyday...We can be like they are
Come on baby...don't fear the reaper
Baby take my hand...don't fear the reaper
We'll be able to fly...don't fear the reaper
Baby I'm your man...
Love of two is one
Here but now they're gone
Came the last night of sadness
And it was clear she couldn't go on
Then the door was open and the wind appeared
The candles blew then disappeared
The curtains flew then he appeared...saying don't be afraid
Come on baby...and she had no fear
And she ran to him...then they started to fly
They looked backward and said goodbye...she had become like they are
She had taken his hand...she had become like they are
Come on baby...don't fear the reaper
poem by Jacob Bryant
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(Don't Fear) The Reaper
[Lyrics by Donald Roeser]
[Arranged by HIM]
All our times have come
Here but now they're gone
Seasons don't fear the reaper
Nor do the wind, the sun or the rain
We can be like they are
Come on baby... Don't fear the Reaper
Baby take my hand... Don't fear the Reaper
We'll be able to fly... Don't fear the Reaper
Baby I'm your man...
Valentine is done
Here but now they're gone
Romeo and Juliet
Are together in eternity...
Romeo and Juliet
40,000 men and women everyday... Like Romeo and
Juliet
40,000 men and women everyday... Redefine
happiness
Another 40,000 coming everyday...We can be like
they are
Come on baby... Don't fear the Reaper
Baby take my hand... Don't fear the Reaper
We'll be able to fly... Don't fear the Reaper
Baby I'm your man...
Love of two is one
Here but now they're gone
Came the last night of sadness
And it was clear she couldn't go on
Then the door was open and the wind appeared
The candles blew then disappeared
The curtains flew then he appeared
Saying don't be afraid
Come on baby... And she had no fear
And she ran to him... Then they started to fly
They looked backward and said goodbye
She had become like they are
She had taken his hand
She had become like they are
Come on baby...don't fear the reaper
song performed by by H.I.M.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Oh To Be Out In The Country
A hot day in the city and scarce a puff of breeze
Oh to be out in the country in the cool shade of the trees
In the shadow of the wattles leafing through a favourite book
Listening to the coot and black duck calling in the quiet brook.
Oh to be out in the country on this sunny Summer's day
In the hills above Wonthaggi more than eighty miles away
In the shadow of the gum trees many miles from city street
Stretched and resting on the fog grass sheltering from the mid day heat.
I feel tired of city living city life's a hard old slog
And I am sick of man's pollution sick of breathing smoke and smog
Oh to be out in the country by a creek enjoying a beer
In a World free of pollution many miles away from here.
A hot day in the city near thirty five degrees
Oh to be out in the country in the cool shade of the trees
In the shadow of the gum trees many miles from city street
Stretched and resting on the fog grass sheltering from the mid day heat.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Summer In Paradise
Way back when well our master plan
Was havin fun fun fun as americas band
Well we came out rockin with rhonda and barbara ann
Singin of surf and sand
Now when we look back over all the fun we had
If our lifestyles over now it sure is sad
We gotta get back to livin without a care
Give me sunshine water and an ozone layer
Paradise is a state of mind
Where mother nature nurtures and man is kind
We need a change now wouldnt it be nice
If we could bring back summer
Get us back our summer
Summer in paradise
(paradise)
Summer in paradise (paradise)
They chop down the forests
And in their haste leave a trail of destruction
And toxic waste is leavin no one safe
In their home or their habitat
Cant let it go like that
Too much consumption and too much greed
When you consider all the people
That are livin in need
Interdependence in this world is a natural fact
And were all under attack
Its the eve of destruction or so they say
But mankind doesnt have to go that way
If we all get together we can make things right
And we can bring back summer
Get us back our summer
Summer in paradise
(paradise)
Summer in paradise (paradise)
Summer in paradise (paradise)
Summer in paradise
Surfers recycle now dont you know
Like evryone from california to kokomo
Were gonna keep on rockin
And raisin world consciousness
We gotta fix this mess
Looked in the future and what I saw
Was a world in harmony with natural law
Theres trouble now but it will be alright if we can
Bring back summer
Get us back our summer
Summer in paradise
(paradise)
Summer in paradise (paradise)
Summer in paradise (paradise)
Summer in paradise (paradise)
Summer in paradise
(paradise)
Summer in paradise (paradise)
Summer in paradise
(paradise)
Summer in paradise (paradise)
Summer in paradise
(paradise)
Summer in paradise (paradise)
Summer in paradise
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Tree And The Breeze
Have you ever noticed how the trees sway with the breeze?
It's as if they were dancing in rhythm with a mellow tune
Have you ever notice how a tree is home to a bird's nest...
where the birds rest?
It's as if the tree were a peaceful and relaxed get-away
From where their troubles stray
But then the tree also has another side
In which it can take the birds for a bit of a ride
It is its party side...
when a pile of birds get together in one tree...
to sing along to the breeze as back and forth it sways the tree
The tree's stuck in the ground
Every day its life's the same
But the breeze
Now that's a different story
The breeze is free
It goes and comes as it pleases
The tree it seizes
Have you ever noticed half the things a tree does are caused by the breeze?
poem by Amy Parkinson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Back Home
Yeah yeah yeah
Well Im going back this summer to ohio
Im gonna seek out all my friends Ive always known
Im goin back to that farm that I remember
Well Im goin to spend this summer back home
Back home (back home, back home, back home)
Ill spend my summer (back home)
Back home (back home)
Back home (back home, back home, back home)
Ill spend my summer (back home)
Back home (back home)
Im gonna get up every morning before the roosters
Ill run downstairs fix my breakfast all alone
Ill milk those cows feed the chickens and the horses
Well Im gonna spend this summer back home
Back home (back home, back home, back home)
Ill spend my summer (back home)
Back home (back home)
Back home (back home, back home, back home)
Ill spend my summer (back home)
Back home (back home)
Ill eat everything that ma puts on the table
When I get back you wont believe how Ive grown
Ill hit the sack early everynight thinkin bout tomorrow whoa oh
Well Im gonna spend this summer back home
Back home, back home, back home
Back home (back home, back home, back home)
Ill spend my summer (back home)
Thats what Im gonna do thats where Im gonna be, thats this summer
Back home (back home)
Back home (back home, back home, back home)
Ill spend my summer (back home)
Gonna get up, gonna get up, gonna get up every morning
Back home (back home)
Back home (back home, back home, back home)
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
Ill spend my summer (back home)
Hey woo feels okay back home
Back home (back home)
Back home (back home, back home, back home)
Ill spend my summer (back home)
Back home
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bologna: A Poem About Gold
Give me this time, my first and severe
Italian, a poem about gold,
The left corners of eyes, and the heavy
Night of the locomotives that brought me here,
And the heavy wine in the old green body,
The glass that so many have drunk from.
I have brought my bottle back home every day
To the cool cave, and come forth
Golden on the left corner
of a cathedral's wing:
White wine of Bologna,
And the knowing golden shadows
At the left corners of Mary Magdalene's eyes,
While St. Cecilia stands
Smirking in the center of a blank wall,
The saint letting her silly pipes wilt down,
Adoring
Herself, while the lowly and richest of all women eyes
Me the beholder, with a knowing sympathy, her love
For the golden body of the earth, she knows me,
Her halo faintly askew,
And no despair in her gold
That drags thrones down
And then makes them pay for it.
Oh,
She may look sorry to Cecilia
And
The right-hand saint on the tree,
But
She didn't look sorry to Raphael,
And
I bet she didn't look sorry to Jesus,
And
She doesn't look sorry to me.
(Who would?)
She doesn't look sorry to me.
She looks like only the heavy deep gold
That drags thrones down
All day long on the vine.
Mary in Bologna, sunlight I gathered all morning
And pressed in my hands all afternoon
And drank all day with my golden-breasted
Love in my arms.
poem by James Arlington Wright
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Choice For Today
same stuff
different days
same evasive stuff really
moving hours
tiring days most of the times
but one makes the decision
to color days with summer
sun and cold winds
and beach
relaxations
same stuff but always
with different outlooks
renovating innovations
respecting life
enjoying bodies
tanning and resting eyes
upon bluer horizons
farther farther
imaginations dreaming
unthinking
things
under the tree
hands restive upon
the green blanket on
the white sands
on a Sunday
morning
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Private View
The leopard saw the tree ahead
And chose to check it out
And that is where his footsteps led,
No more to scout about...
He climbed the tree serenely calm,
To scan the land around
And so as not to raise alarm,
He barely made a sound...
How gingerly he walked on high,
As if above it all,
Yet not possessing wings to fly,
Was careful not to fall...
A gentle breeze brought no fresh scents
To help him find his prey
And since he saw no other friends,
He paused his paws to stay...
His private view brought sweet relief
With shade to cool him down,
Quite cosy, comfy, couched beneath,
He laid on bark so brown...
Now he could keep his soft embrace,
Surveying all in style...
This was his spot, his special place,
His palace for a while...
Denis Martindale, copyright, November 2011.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Private View'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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Sunday Morning
Sunday morning silence, curtain stay closed late
No one thinks of kitchens mornings in a filthy state
Dishes cups and beer stains, ashtrays on the floor
Sunday morning papers are left outside the front door
Sunday school and sunday roast
Sunday papers sunday post
Sunday morning sunday rest
Sunday sermon sunday best
(sunday, bloody sunday rest)
Glass of fizzy water helps to start the day
Sit and listen to sunday silence, problems fade away
Sunday cars and drivers break the morning air
Uncollected milk outside reveals theres no one there
Sunday school and sunday roast
Sunday papers sunday post
Sunday morning sunday rest
Sunday sermon sunday best
Sunday school and sunday roast
Sunday papers sunday post
Sunday morning sunday rest
Sunday sermon sunday best
Bathrobes hang in waiting, windows steaming up
Somewhere in the sink downstairs lies an unwashed cup
Tea and toast for breakfast clear away the plates
Wash-up prepare for cooking sunday lunch awaits
Sunday lunch awaits
Sunday lunch awaits
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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