En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Upon the mountain's distant head

Upon the mountain's distant head,
With trackless snows for ever white,
Where all is still, and cold, and dead,
Late shines the day's departing light.

But far below those icy rocks,
The vales, in summer bloom arrayed,
Woods full of birds, and fields of flocks,
Are dim with mist and dark with shade.

'Tis thus, from warm and kindly hearts,
And eyes where generous meanings burn,
Earliest the light of life departs,
But lingers with the cold and stern.

poem by William Cullen Bryant
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Remember the Snows in the Summer's Light

I remember the snows in the summer's light
Thinking of winter in summer;
When I see the blue, I see white;

I see the fume over roofs so bright,
Feel the warm air caressed by azure,
I remember the snows in the summer's light.

Summers are lazy in my inner sight,
Winters, lazy on the outside, are sure to secure
The blue when I sense the cold of white.

Winter takes me on a summer's flight
To visit the summer and endure
Snows and remember the light.

Perhaps I like spring and fall best,
But winter is spring in summer to allure
Me to feel the fall and see blue in white.

I keep remembering, seeing the bright;
Everything is just a thought you conjure;
I always remember the snows hiding in the light;
When I see the blue, I also see the white.

poem by Dejan Stojanovic
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The significant sun

The glow grows by day
And the plants make food
Flowers bloom
Lovers meet
Nighttime heat
The sun shines not at night but
But by day

The birds of the air
Chirp a melody
Whistling and fooling
For the curious to see
Why they play
The sun shines not at night
But by day

He hides his glow
Cause he cannot bear to see
The fright of the dark night
And the rays are no more there
Instead cold, musty air
Cold as the heart of the night
Brought about by no light
The sun shines not at night
But by day

Joyful laughter emerges faces
Greeting the bright mourning
Leaving the eerie night behind
The sun brings hope
The night brings fright
And the innocent hearts
Too fragile to bear the sight
Closes its eyes and wishes
For light
The sun shines not at night
But by day

poem by Rachael Hardy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Light

Light that can be kind. Light that can smell sweet. Light that can be soft.
Light that can be porcelain. Light that can be silent. Light that can speak.
Light that can hold many colors. Light that can be romantic. Light that can be harsh.
Light that can be cold. Light that can be warm. Light that can be dry.
Light that can be loud. Light that can be love. Light that can be faith.
Light that can be full of strength. Light that can be pure. Light that can be dark.
Light that can be fragile. Light that can be crazy. Light that can be weird.
Light that can be old. Light that can be new. Light that can be inbetween.
Light that can be swift. Light that can be sharp. Light that can wonder.
Light that can be insane. Light that can be smooth. Light that can dream.
Light that can be free. Light that can be everlasting. Light that can be wild.
Light that is the lord. Light that is Jesus. Light that is holy.
Light that is the trinity. Light that can belong. Light that can be fast.
Light that can sing. Light that is the holy ghost. Light that is the Bible.
Light that can be a mith. Light that can be still. Light that can be different.
Light that can be hole. Light that can be true. Light that can be whimsical.
Light that can be bright. Light that can be formed. Light that is blessed.
Light that can be full of presence. Light that can tell a story. Light that can be intelligent.
Light that is like no other!

poem by Shania K. Younce
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Willy-Wag and Sparrow

Willy-wag and Sparrow
sat on a stone.
Said Willy, it's cold
when the sun is gone.

But my heart beats hot
in my white silk breast;
time enough later
for me to rest.

Said Sparrow, It's dark
in the green willow,
and the cat may lurk
in the shade below.

He fluffed his feathers
and shook his head;
by now the others
are safe in bed.

Said Willy, the sky
is full of light,
and a juicy fly
is quickly caught.

I'll flirt my fan
awhile the cold,
and I won't go in
till the moon is gold.

Said sparrow, the tree
is full by now,
and I'm off to my perch
on the topmost bough.

But Willy said, whether
it's dark or light,
if I feel like singing
I'll sing all night.

poem by Nancy Fotheringham Cato
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Early Works - The Seasons

Sky clouded and morbid blue
with cracks for the sun to shine through.
Fields barren and dead
with leaves turning from green to red.
Birds on high winging south
as rivers flow from its mouth.
Sun shines a light of cold on the
ground as autumn approaching us surrounds.

The leaves of orange and red mould where they are blown
as upon us winder begins to grow.
After a while comes a white blanket of snow
covering everything that will grow.
The nights get long
and the winter winds blow strong.
Everything is frozen fast
and in this wintry waste, none must trespass.

Overnight comes the warmth of a rearing sun
bringing with it the spring,
life to every living thing.
Trees and flowers bud, bloom,
and around the corner summer begins to loom.
As everything, turns’ smiling around
there is heard in the wind loves sweet sound.

Then with sunsets beautiful, but not rare
we can tell summer is in the air.
Flowers in full bloom spread multicolour around
as small creatures scamper on the ground
under the sun profound.
All the mysteries that summer does involve
will soon be gone as the seasons again revolve.

Date Unknown. (Early 1970’s I think)

poem by David Harris
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To Natasha

The crimson summer now grows pale;
Clear, bright days now soar away;
Hazy mist spreads through the vale,
As the sleeping night turns gray;
The barren cornfields lose their gold;
The lively stream has now turned cold;
The curly woods are gray and stark,
And the heavens have grown dark.

Where are you, my light, Natasha?
No one's seen you, - I lament.
Don't you want to share the passion
Of this moment with a friend?
You have not yet met with me
By the pond, or by our tree,
Though the season has turned late,
We have not yet had a date.

Winter’s cold will soon arrive
Fields will freeze with frost, so bitter.
In the smoky shack, a light,
Soon enough, will shine and glitter.
I won't see my love, - I'll rage
Like a finch, inside a cage,
And at home, depressed and dazed,
I’ll recall Natasha's grace.

poem by Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin
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“i Speak To Thee Of Light”

The Master spoke…

Brethren, I speak to thee of Light:

The dark/cold void is dead,
The Light warm and life-giving

Verily I say unto thee,
Light be the very Essence of God,
Indeed, an Instrument of Creation

Every color is contained in a rainbow,
In a single droplet of gleaming dew

Observe how all life seeks the Face of God,
Ever reaching upward, toward Luminosity

Ye have but to look within thy soul or into,
The eyes of another for a flash of God Himself

Burn bright Sons and Daughters of My Sun,
Even death cannot extinguish Him from thy soul

God’s Light Everlasting…

ROTMS

poem by Ray Lucero
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Summer Light...

Summer Light -Thru the Trees
Summer Light - Spotted Me
Summer Light - Palest Gold
Summer Light - Bright and Bold

I Saw Summer Light Descend
Summer Light, Made Shadows Bend
Summer Light, On An Emerald Pond
I Reached Out… It Touched My Palm

Summer Light, It Fell Like Powder
Or a Floating Incandescent Feather
Came Down, Like A Sheer, White Swan
Summer Light – Lifted Wing-Like Arms

So Sunrays Slanted – Shone-Misty
Summer Light-Beams, Embraced Me
Warm, Wonderful Summer Light
Touch Me Tender, Solar- Might

Summer Light, When I Was Lost
Summer Light, Found Me Before Frost
Summer Light - None Else Looked For Me…
Summer Light Said, “I Always See…”

I Love Summer Light

poem by MoonBee Canady
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Oh, Ye Dead!

Oh, ye Dead! oh, ye Dead! whom we know by the light you give
From your cold gleaming eyes, though you move like men who live,
Why leave you thus your graves,
In far off fields and waves,
Where the worm and the sea-bird only know your bed,
To haunt this spot where all
Those eyes that wept your fall,
And the hearts that wail'd you, like your own, lie dead?

It is true, it is true, we are shadows cold and wan;
And the fair and the brave whom we loved on earth are gone;
But still thus even in death,
So sweet the living breath
Of the fields and the flowers in our youth we wander'd o'er,
That ere, condemn'd, we go
To freeze 'mid Hecla's snow,
We would taste it a while, and think we live once more!

poem by Thomas Moore
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It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold: when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade.

quote by Charles Dickens
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In The Cold, Cold, Night

I saw you standing in the corner
On the edge of a burning light
I saw you standing in the corner
Come to me again in the cold, cold night
You make me feel a little older
Like a full grown woman might
But when youre gone I grow colder
In the cold, cold, night
I saw you standing in the corner
On the edge of a burning light
I saw you standing in the corner
Come to me again in the cold, cold night
You make me feel a little older
Like a full grown woman might
But when youre gone I grow colder
Come to me again in the cold, cold night
I see you walking by my front door
I hear the creaking of the kitchen floor
I dont care what other people say
Im going to love you, anyway
Come to me again in the cold, cold night
I cant stand it any longer
I need the fuel to make my fire burn bright
So dont fight it any longer
Come to me again in the cold, cold night
And I know that you feel it too
When my skin turns into glue
You will know that its warm inside
And youll come run to me, in the cold, cold night

song performed by by White Stripes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Indian summer

O sweet, sad autumn of the waning year,
Though in thy bowers the roses all lie dead,
And from thy woods the song of birds has fled,
And winter, stern and cold, is hovering near;
Yet from thy presence breathes a holy calm.
The fervid heats, the lightning storms, all past,
A tender light o'er earth and sky is cast,
And all thy solemn voices chant a psalm.
Oh, Indian Summer, autumn of the soul,
That no returning Spring shall visit more,
Though all thy rose-hued morning dreams are o'er,
And phantoms dread stand threat'ning at the goal,
Yet are these days dear as e'en Summer knew;
These Sibylline leaves of life, so precious, since so few.

poem by Anne Lynch Botta from Poems (1848)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Nightbird On A Winter Branch

Nightbird on a winter branch.
Dark blossom of the new moon,
Last kiss on the eyelids of the dead
As the snow falls like apple bloom.

I see you’ve left the door ajar:
The backdoor of an eclipse
To let the first crescent of the light out.
The sacred syllable of the mistfits

Lost in the silence and the solitude
You raise like heretical mystics into songs
That only you alone can sing
So that each in their homelessness belongs

To the false dawn of the same secret
They weep over like empty lockets
That stole the moon from their windows
As they burned at the stake, rockets

Martyred in the fire of the holy books
That inspire them deeper into exile
This late at night far from anywhere
Distance is measured by the mile

And not the wingspan of the light-years
It’s taken me to write this.
Like a bird that flew out of the darkness,
That left no trace of the witness

As it blew a kiss of sudden insight.
A word in passing from the dead
About who’s behind the death mask
Of the snow that’s covering my head

Like the polar ice cap of a planet
With the prophetic wisdom of a skull.
Life in the birthmark of the new.
Death in the harvest of the moon at full.

Emptiness devoid of all light.
The first sign of renewal in the urn
Of a nightbird on a winter branch.
Diamonds of ice and insight that burn

Like coal in the eyes of a snow man
With the passion of a phoenix born
A star in the cold furnace of the sky.
Where every passage is a rite of return

That hides its brightest jewels
blossoming like enlightenment on the wing
In the dark ore of a nightbird
When a deathmask opens its mouth to sing.

poem by Patrick White
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Ghost Eagle Still Flies Ghost Skies

beauty solemnly slips from grief dark shadows
her eyes were soulful as dark as her hair shines
dance with life smile at his funeral an angel divine
his spirit flew in bright white blue mountain thermals

morning burn golden light upon life sacred mountain
eagle flies no more these spectral blue white skies
hunters came creeping shot free eagle as he soars flies
feelings ghost haunting hunt skies where eagle flies no more

poem by Terence George Craddock
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The Dreams

Spare a little candle
Save some light for me
Figures up ahead
Moving in the trees
White skin in linen
Perfume on my wrist
And the full moon that hangs over
These dreams in the mist
Darkness on the edge
Shadows where I stand
I search for the time
On a watch with no hands
I want to see you clearly
Come closer than this
But all I remember
Are the dreams in the mist
These dreams go on when I close my eyes
Every second of the night I live another life
These dreams that sleep when it's cold outside
Every moment I'm awake the further I'm away
Is it cloak n dagger
Could it be spring or fall
I walk without a cut
Through a stained glass wall
Weaker in my eyesight
The candle in my grip
And words that have no form
Are falling from my lips
These dreams go on when I close my eyes
Every second of the night I live another life
These dreams that sleep when it's cold outside
Every moment I'm awake the further I'm away
There's something out there
I can't resist
I need to hide away from the pain
There's something out there
I can't resist
The sweetest song is silence
That I've ever heard
Funny how your feet
In dreams never touch the earth
In a wood full of princes
Freedom is a kiss
But the prince hides his face
From dreams in the mist
These dreams go on when I close my eyes
Every second of the night I live another life
These dreams that sleep when it's cold outside
Every moment I'm awake the further I'm away
These dreams go on when I close my eyes
Every second of the night I live another life
These dreams that sleep when it's cold outside
Every moment I'm awake the further I'm away

song performed by by Heart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Beach On A Winters Day

The rows of wooden groynes where we once bathed in warm sunshine
Are now battered by the sea,
Waves crash along the shoreline
And go on endlessly.

The beach that was so crowded with people in the summer
On what seemed like endless days of sun,
I walk along the deserted seashore
And now I am the only one.

I think about those summer days
Of barbicue picknicks and strawberries and cream,
But now these cold dark winter days
Make the summer like some very far off dream.

I stand and look up at the clifftops
That tower above me so high,
While out at sea lights of distant ships
Light the darkened sky,

The sea that was so warm and blue in the summer
Is now so stormy and grey,
Now I just sit here and dream of summer
On the beach on a winters day.

poem by Gordon Butchers
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Distant Light

Distant light flickers an invitation of hope.
In reaching it, there will be sanctification.
Dimness that surrounds the eyes
will be forgotten.
Black holes that open the heart
will be discarded.
Let the distant light come closer.
Let the distant light be a friend.

Shallow water cannot drown soul.
It can only hinder the passage.
Dampening the spirit as it frolics
like a moonbeam across the mind.
Distance lends unhappiness.
Let the distant light shine bright.
Let the distant light be a guide.

In closets of blackness the hands
seek an opening in the shadows.
They find nothing, but the eyes
focus on a distant light that
calls like a radio in the night.
Let the distant light embrace.
Let the distant light be closer.

In an emptiness of broken glass
there is a pattern to salvation.
Frame the light like fire in the glance,
walk towards it. Find escape.
Let the distant light be strong.
Let the distant light shine forever.

What is the distant light that shines?
What is its meaning in a journey?
This is an answer not easily explained.
This is a hope not readily known.
Let the distant light continue.
Let the distant light always shine.

poem by Chris G. Vaillancourt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Darkness Sets Upon Her

Dark as ebony, dark as night
Dark as the raven in mid flight
Dark as the grave doth her heart grow
Cold and silent as the dead of night
Oh sweet angel of mercy, sweet angel of light
Beckon to her before she takes flight
Speak ever so softly, breath life back into her soul
That she'll not tread life's pathway
A hollow, empty shell full of darkness so foul
That eats away at the radiant light
Which once from the windows of her soul did flow
For quickly doth darkness set upon her
Stealing away what little remains pure
Blackening her heart, blotting out the light
Nevermore to shine, cold and silent as the dead of night

poem by Jennifer Batch
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The Red House

On the wide fields the water gleams like snow,
And snow like water pale beneath pale sky,
When old and burdened the white clouds are stooped low.
Sudden as thought, or startled near bird's cry,
The whiteness of first light on hills of snow
New dropped from skiey hills of tumbling white
Streams from the ridge to where the long woods lie;
And tall ridge-trees lift their soft crowns of white
Above slim bodies all black or flecked with snow.
By the tossed foam of the not yet frozen brook
Black pigs go straggling over fields of snow;
The air is full of snow, and starling and rook
Are blacker amid the myriad streams of light.
Warm as old fire the Red House burns yet bright
Beneath the unmelting snows of pine and larch,
While February moves as slow, as slow
As Spring might never come, never come March.

Amid such snows, by generations haunted,
By echoes, memories and dreams enchanted,
Firm when dark winds through the night stamp and shout,
Brightest when time silvers the world all about,
That old house called _The Heart_ burns, burns, and still
Outbraves the mortal threat of the hanging hill.

poem by John Freeman
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Pleasant As May

Writer Dolly Parton
Copyright 1973
The mid summer sun shines but dim the fields try in vain to look gay
But when I was happy with him December was pleasant as May
There once was a time he and I picked flowers to braid in my hair
And the songbirds would sing sweet song of love that was tender and fair
No difference the seasons may quit our love was as warm as the sun
And it mattered not where did the snow
Or green grass kissed the fields where we'd run
Now the mid summer sun shines...
Sweet flowers sweet birds and sweet song have now lost their sweetness to me
For ever my darling is gone and for ever my heartbroken I'll be
Now the mid summer sun shines...
The mid summer sun shines but dim mmm

song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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