Song III: It Grew Up Without Heeding
Love is enough: it grew up without heeding
In the days when ye knew not its name nor its measure,
And its leaflets untrodden by the light feet of pleasure
Had no boast of the blossom, no sign of the seeding,
As the morning and evening passed over its treasure.
And what do ye say then?--That Spring long departed
Has brought forth no child to the softness and showers;
--That we slept and we dreamed through the Summer of flowers;
We dreamed of the Winter, and waking dead-hearted
Found Winter upon us and waste of dull hours.
Nay, Spring was o'er-happy and knew not the reason,
And Summer dreamed sadly, for she thought all was ended
In her fulness of wealth that might not be amended;
But this is the harvest and the garnering season,
And the leaf and the blossom in the ripe fruit are blended.
It sprang without sowing, it grew without heeding,
Ye knew not its name and ye knew not its measure,
Ye noted it not mid your hope and your pleasure;
There was pain in its blossom, despair in its seeding,
But daylong your bosom now nurseth its treasure.
poem by William Morris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Blossom Friend
Black days of winter all were through
The blossoms came and they brought you
Clouds left the sky
And I knew the reason why
They made way for you and the blossom.
The seasons cycle turned again
An april shower now and then
Trees came alive
And the bees left their hive
They came out to see you and the blossom.
People were laughing, smiling with the sun
They knew that summer had begun.
The nights grew warm, the days grew long
Spring turned to summer and was gone
It seemed so fine
All the cider and the wine
But I knew youd go with the blossom.
When spring returns Ill look again
To find another blossom friend
Until I do
Find something new
Ill just think of you and the blossom.
song performed by by Nick Drake
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love is Enough: Songs I-IX
I1.
Love is enough: though the World be a-waning
.
And the woods have no voice but the voice of complaining,
.
Though the sky be too dark for dim eyes to discover
.
The gold-cups and daisies fair blooming thereunder,
.
Though the hills be held shadows, and the sea a dark wonder,
.
And this day draw a veil over all deeds passed over,
.
Yet their hands shall not tremble, their feet shall not falter;
.
The void shall not weary, the fear shall not alter
.
These lips and these eyes of the loved and the lover.II2.
Love is enough: have no thought for to-morrow
.
If ye lie down this even in rest from your pain,
.
Ye who have paid for your bliss with great sorrow:
.
For as it was once so it shall be again.
.
Ye shall cry out for death as ye stretch forth in vain2.
Feeble hands to the hands that would help but they may not,
.
Cry out to deaf ears that would hear if they could;
.
Till again shall the change come, and words your lips say not
.
Your hearts make all plain in the best wise they would
.
And the world ye thought waning is glorious and good:2.
And no morning now mocks you and no nightfall is weary,
.
The plains are not empty of song and of deed:
.
The sea strayeth not, nor the mountains are dreary;
.
The wind is not helpless for any man's need,
.
Nor falleth the rain but for thistle and weed.2.
O surely this morning all sorrow is hidden,
.
All battle is hushed for this even at least;
.
And no one this noontide may hunger, unbidden
.
To the flowers and the singing and the joy of your feast
.
Where silent ye sit midst the world's tale increased.2.
Lo, the lovers unloved that draw nigh for your blessing!
.
For your tale makes the dreaming whereby yet they live
.
The dreams of the day with their hopes of redressing,
.
The dreams of the night with the kisses they give,
.
The dreams of the dawn wherein death and hope strive.2.
Ah, what shall we say then, but that earth threatened often
.
Shall live on for ever that such things may be,
.
That the dry seed shall quicken, the hard earth shall soften,
.
And the spring-bearing birds flutter north o'er the sea,
.
That earth's garden may bloom round my love's feet and me?III3.
Love is enough: it grew up without heeding
.
In the days when ye knew not its name nor its measure,
.
And its leaflets untrodden by the light feet of pleasure
.
Had no boast of the blossom, no sign of the seeding,
.
As the morning and evening passed over its treasure.3.
And what do ye say then?--That Spring long departed
.
Has brought forth no child to the softness and showers;
.
--That we slept and we dreamed through the Summer of flowers;
.
We dreamed of the Winter, and waking dead-hearted
.
Found Winter upon us and waste of dull hours.3.
Nay, Spring was o'er-happy and knew not the reason,
.
And Summer dreamed sadly, for she thought all was ended
.
In her fulness of wealth that might not be amended;
.
But this is the harvest and the garnering season,
.
And the leaf and the blossom in the ripe fruit are blended.3.
It sprang without sowing, it grew without heeding,
.
Ye knew not its name and ye knew not its measure,
.
Ye noted it not mid your hope and your pleasure;
.
There was pain in its blossom, despair in its seeding,
.
But daylong your bosom now nurseth its treasure.IV4.
Love is enough: draw near and behold me
.
Ye who pass by the way to your rest and your laughter,
.
And are full of the hope of the dawn coming after;
.
For the strong of the world have bought me and sold me
.
And my house is all wasted from threshold to rafter.
.
--Pass by me, and hearken, and think of me not!4.
Cry out and come near; for my ears may not hearken,
.
And my eyes are grown dim as the eyes of the dying.
.
Is this the grey rack o'er the sun's face a-flying?
.
Or is it your faces his brightness that darken?
.
Comes a wind from the sea, or is it your sighing?
.
--Pass by me and hearken, and pity me not!4.
Ye know not how void is your hope and your living:
.
Depart with your helping lest yet ye undo me!
.
Ye know not that at nightfall she draweth near to me,
.
There is soft speech between us and words of forgiving
.
Till in dead of the midnight her kisses thrill through me.
.
--Pass by me and harken, and waken me not!4.
Wherewith will ye buy it, ye rich who behold me?
.
Draw out from your coffers your rest and your laughter,
.
And the fair gilded hope of the dawn coming after!
.
Nay this I sell not,--though ye bought me and sold me,--
.
For your house stored with such things from threshold to rafter.
.
--Pass by me, I hearken, and think of you not!V5.
Love is enough: through the trouble and tangle
.
From yesterday's dawning to yesterday's night
.
I sought through the vales where the prisoned winds wrangle,
.
Till, wearied and bleeding, at end of the light
.
I met him, and we wrestled, and great was my might.5.
O great was my joy, though no rest was around me,
.
Though mid wastes of the world were we twain all alone,
.
For methought that I conquered and he knelt and he crowned me,
.
And the driving rain ceased, and the wind ceased to moan,
.
And through clefts of the clouds her planet outshone.5.
O through clefts of the clouds 'gan the world to awaken,
.
And the bitter wind piped, and down drifted the rain,
.
And I was alone--and yet not forsaken,
.
For the grass was untrodden except by my pain:
.
With a Shadow of the Night had I wrestled in vain.5.
And the Shadow of the Night and not Love was departed;
.
I was sore, I was weary, yet Love lived to seek;
.
So I scaled the dark mountains, and wandered sad-hearted
.
Over wearier wastes, where e'en sunlight was bleak,
.
With no rest of the night for my soul waxen weak.5.
With no rest of the night; for I waked mid a story
.
Of a land wherein Love is the light and the lord,
.
Where my tale shall be heard, and my wounds gain a glory,
.
And my tears be a treasure to add to the hoard
.
Of pleasure laid up for his people's reward.5.
Ah, pleasure laid up! Haste then onward and listen,
.
For the wind of the waste has no music like this,
.
And not thus do the rocks of the wilderness glisten:
.
With the host of his faithful through sorrow and bliss
.
My Lord goeth forth now, and knows me for his.VI6.
Love is enough: cherish life that abideth,
.
Lest ye die ere ye know him, and curse and misname him;
.
For who knows in what ruin of all hope he hideth,
.
On what wings of the terror of darkness he rideth?
.
And what is the joy of man's life that ye blame him
.
For his bliss grown a sword, and his rest grown a fire?6.
Ye who tremble for death, or the death of desire,
.
Pass about the cold winter-tide garden and ponder
.
On the rose in his glory amidst of June's fire,
.
On the languor of noontide that gathered the thunder,
.
On the morn and its freshness, the eve and its wonder:
.
Ye may make it no more--shall Spring come to awaken?6.
Live on, for Love liveth, and earth shall be shaken
.
By the wind of his wings on the triumphing morning,
.
When the dead, and their deeds that die not shall awaken,
.
And the world's tale shall sound in your trumpet of warning,
.
And the sun smite the banner called Scorn of the Scorning,
.
And dead pain ye shall trample, dead fruitless desire,
.
As ye wend to pluck out the new world from the fire.VII7.
Dawn talks to Day
.
Over dew-gleaming flowers,
.
Night flies away
.
Till the resting of hours:
.
Fresh are thy feet
.
And with dreams thine eyes glistening,
.
Thy still lips are sweet
.
Though the world is a-listening.
.
O Love, set a word in my mouth for our meeting,
.
Cast thine arms round about me to stay my heart's beating!
.
O fresh day, O fair day, O long day made ours!...7.
Morn shall meet noon
.
While the flower-stems yet move,
.
Though the wind dieth soon
.
And the clouds fade above.
.
Loved lips are thine
.
As I tremble and hearken;
.
Bright thine eyes shine,
.
Though the leaves thy brow darken.
.
O Love, kiss me into silence, lest no word avail me,
.
Stay my head with thy bosom lest breath and life fail me!
.
O sweet day, O rich day, made long for our love!7.
Late day shall greet eve,
.
And the full blossoms shake,
.
For the wind will not leave
.
The tall trees while they wake.
.
Eyes soft with bliss,
.
Come nigher and nigher!
.
Sweet mouth I kiss,
.
Tell me all thy desire!
.
Let us speak, love, together some words of our story,
.
That our lips as they part may remember the glory!
.
O soft day, O calm day, made clear for our sake!7.
Eve shall kiss night,
.
And the leaves stir like rain
.
As the wind stealeth light
.
O'er the grass of the plain.
.
Unseen are thine eyes
.
Mid the dreamy night's sleeping,
.
And on my mouth there lies
.
The dear rain of thy weeping.
.
Hold silence, love, speak not of the sweet day departed,
.
Cling close to me, love, lest I waken sad-hearted!
.
O kind day, O dear day, short day, come again!VIII8.
Love is enough: while ye deemed him a-sleeping,
.
There were signs of his coming and sounds of his feet;
.
His touch it was that would bring you to weeping,
.
When the summer was deepest and music most sweet:
.
In his footsteps ye followed the day to its dying,
.
Ye went forth by his gown-skirts the morning to meet:
.
In his place on the beaten-down orchard-grass lying,
.
Of the sweet ways ye pondered left for life's trying.8.
Ah, what was all dreaming of pleasure anear you,
.
To the time when his eyes on your wistful eyes turned,
.
And ye saw his lips move, and his head bent to hear you,
.
As new-born and glad to his kindness ye yearned?
.
Ah, what was all dreaming of anguish and sorrow,
.
To the time when the world in his torment was burned,
.
And no god your heart from its prison might borrow,
.
And no rest was left, no today, no tomorrow?8.
All wonder of pleasure, all doubt of desire,
.
All blindness, are ended, and no more ye feel
.
If your feet treat his flowers or the flames of his fire,
.
If your breast meet his balms or the edge of his steel.
.
Change is come, and past over, no more strife, no more learning:
.
Now your lips and your forehead are sealed with his seal,
.
Look backward and smile at the thorns and the burning.
.
--Sweet rest, O my soul, and no fear of returning!IX9.
Love is enough: ho ye who seek saving,
.
Go no further; come hither; there have been who have found it,
.
And these know the House of Fulfilment of Craving;
.
These know the Cup with the roses around it;
.
These know the World's Wound and the balm that hath bound it:
.
Cry out, the World heedeth not, 'Love, lead us home!'9.
He leadeth, He hearkeneth, He cometh to you-ward;
.
Set your faces as steel to the fears that assemble
.
Round his goad for the faint, and his scourge for the froward,
.
Lo his lips, how with tales of last kisses they tremble!
.
Lo his eyes of all sorrow that may not dissemble!
.
Cry out, for he heedeth, 'O Love, lead us home!'9.
O hearken the words of his voice of compassion:
.
'Come cling round about me, ye faithful who sicken
.
Of the weary unrest and the world's passing fashions!
.
As the rain in mid-morning your troubles shall thicken,
.
But surely within you some Godhead doth quicken,
.
As ye cry to me heeding, and leading you home.9.
'Come--pain ye shall have, and be blind to the ending!
.
Come--fear ye shall have, mid the sky's overcasting!
.
Come--change ye shall have, for far are ye wending!
.
Come--no crown ye shall have for your thirst and your fasting,
.
But the kissed lips of Love and fair life everlasting!
.
Cry out, for one heedeth, who leadeth you home!'9.
Is he gone? was he with us?--ho ye who seek saving,
.
Go no further; come hither; for have we not found it?
.
Here is the House of Fulfilment of Craving;
.
Here is the Cup with the roses around it;
.
The World's Wound well healed, and the balm that hath bound it:
.
Cry out! for he heedeth, fair Love that led home.
poem by William Morris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An Unmarked Festival
There's a feast undated, yet
Both our true lives hold it fast,--
Even the day when we first met.
What a great day came and passed,
--Unknown then, but known at last.
And we met: You knew not me,
Mistress of your joys and fears;
Held my hand that held the key
Of the treasure of your years,
Of the fountain of your tears.
For you knew not it was I,
And I knew not it was you.
We have learnt, as days went by.
But a flower struck root and grew
Underground, and no one knew.
Day of days! Unmarked it rose,
In whose hours we were to meet;
And forgotten passed. Who knows,
Was earth cold or sunny, Sweet,
At the coming of your feet?
One mere day, we thought; the measure
Of such days the year fulfills.
Now, how dearly would we treasure
Something from its fields, its rills,
And its memorable hills.
poem by Alice Meynell
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Hopes
A PRINCESS, sleeping in enchanted bowers,
Earth springs to waking at Spring's voice and kiss,
And after winter's cold, unlovely hours,
Laughs out to find how beautiful she is.
Spring flings a song across the field and fold,
And sighs it through the glad wood's tangled ways;
And million, million tales of love are told,
And dreams are dreamed of undivided days.
In hollows where so late but dead leaves lay,
Through the dead leaves the primroses push up;
And wind-flowers fleck the copse, and fields are gay
With daisies and the budding buttercup.
So in our hearts, though thick the dead leaves lie
Of grief--heaped up by winds of old despair--
May there not be a spring-time by-and-by,
When flowers of joy shall blossom even there?
So long has Winter held our hearts in his,
We dare not dream of Spring and all her flowers?
Ah! the undreamed-of happiness it is
That comes--the dreamed-of joy is never ours!
When late the trees were brown and hedges bare,
And keen east wind cut sharp as human pain,
Did the Earth guess how soon she would be fair
With Spring's dear dainty loveliness again?
We do not guess of joy, but hope alone--
Like life's mysterious force that thrills the earth--
Lives in our souls, unrecognised, unknown,
Till time shall bring unhoped-for joy to birth.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Life Is Lovely All the Year
When the buds are blossoming,
Smiling welcome to the spring,
Lovers choose a wedding day -
Life is love in merry May!
Spring is green - Fal lal la!
Summer's rose - Fal lal la!
It is sad when Summer goes,
Fal la!
Autumn's gold - Fal lal la!
Winter's grey - Fal lal la!
Winter still is far away -
Fal la!
Leaves in Autumn fade and fall;
Winter is the end of all.
Spring and summer teem with glee:
Spring and summer, then, for me!
Fal la!
In the Spring-time seed is sown:
In the Summer grass is mown:
In the Autumn you may reap:
Winter is the time for sleep.
Spring is hope - Fal lal la!
Summer's joy - Fal lal la!
Spring and Summer never cloy,
Fal la!
Autumn, toil - Fal lal la!
Winter, rest - Fal lal la!
Winter, after all, is best -
Fal la!
Spring and summer pleasure you,
Autumn, ay, and winter, too -
Every season has its cheer;
Life is lovely all the year!
Fal la!
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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Pink Flower
Pink flower is beautiful
Always so much of anything
Playfully and never dull
As it is inside spring
Tenderly moments to bring on
To every summer night
Until its blossom is gone
With beautiful pinkish bright
Pink flower is like you
With all your loving touch
So much to make and do
If you are in love so much
Nothing is all like this
On to the blue light dark
With new spring dawn bliss
Shades of the petal spark
Fragrances in the air
Full of new summer high
Touching blossom everywhere
In the hours going by
Just like a love to come
When love touches heart
Flowering passion blossom
Now in these days will start
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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Unexpected Love
Cool as rain on a dry summer day
Beautifully as the rainbow bridges the sky away
Fragrant as a pot of tea simmering
Soulful as a guitar strumming
Innocent as a child’s smile
Blissful as the cottony sky
Like spring you entered, as a pleasant twist
Refreshing as the early morning “Mist”
I never thought this day would come
When I would “Blossom” under the sun
From being dull and prickly
I bloomed into a morning glory
I felt alive and lost all the pain
Like daffodils I dance in the rain
Your love gave me a new leash of strength
As unexpected as a hidden treasure chest
poem by Blossom Mist
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The Last Judgment
With beating heart and lagging feet,
Lord, I approach the Judgment-seat.
All bring hither the fruits of toil,
Measures of wheat and measures of oil;
Gold and jewels and precious wine;
No hands bare like these hands of mine.
The treasure I have nor weighs nor gleams:
Lord, I can bring you only dreams.
In days of spring, when my blood ran high,
I lay in the grass and looked at the sky,
And dreamed that my love lay by my side--
My love was false, and then she died.
All the heat of the summer through,
I dreamed she lived, that her heart was true
Throughout the hours of the day I slept,
But woke in the night, at times, and wept.
The nights and days, they went and came,
I lay in shadow and dreamed of fame;
And heard men passing the lonely place,
Who marked me not and my hidden face.
My strength waxed faint, my hair grew grey;
Nothing but dreams by night and day.
Some men sicken, with wine and food;
I starved on dreams, and found them good.
* * * * * * *
This is the tale I have to tell--
Show the fellow the way to hell.
Superwoman
Mary wants to be a superwoman
But is that really in her head
But i just want to live each day to love her
For what she is
Mary wants to be another movie star
But is that really in her mind
And all the things she wants to be
She needs to leave behind
But, very well, i believe i know you-very well
Wish that you knew me too-very well
And i think i can deal with everything going through your head
Very well, and i think i can face-very well
Wish that you knew me too-very well
And i think i can cope with everything going through your head
Mary wants to be a superwoman
And try to boss the bull around
But does she really think that she will get by with a dream
My woman want to be a superwoman
And i just had to say good-bye
Because i can't spend all my hours start to cry
But, very well, i believe i know you
Very well wish that you knew me too
Very well, and i think i can deal with everything going through your head
Very well, think that i know you too
Very well, wish you knew me like i know you
Very well, but i think i can deal with everything going through your head
Your filthy head
Very well, dum dum da, dum dum da
Very well, wish you knew me too
Very well, and i wish i could think of everything going through your head
Very well, dum dum da, dum da, dum da
Dum dum da, dum da, very well
And i think i can deal with everything going through your head
When the summer came you were not around
Now the summer's gone and love cannot be found
Where were you when i needed you-last winter, my love?
When the winter came you went further south
Parting from love's nest, leaving me in doubt
Where are you when i need you, like right now?
Our love is at an end
But you say now you have changed
But tomorrow will reflect love's past
When the winter came you were not around
Through the bitter winds love could not be found
Where were you when i needed you, last winter, my love?
Oh i need you baby, i need you baby
Our love is at an end
But you say now you have changed,
But tomorrow will reflect love's past oh
Spring will fill the air and you will come around,
Well is it summer love that will let me down,
Where were you when i needed you, last winter, my love?
La la la la la, la la la la la
La la la la la, la la la la la
Where are you when i need you, like right now?
Right now, right now, right now
Where were you when i needed you last winter, my dear
I need you baby, i need you baby, i need you baby
Oh, where were you when i needed you last winter, last winter
Yea, need you baby, need you, need you baby,
Oh, you want me too need you baby
Oh where were you when i needed you last, dear
Yea
song performed by by Stevie Wonder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Awakening
I dreamed that I was a rose
That grew beside a lonely way,
Close by a path none ever chose,
And there I lingered day by day.
Beneath the sunshine and the show'r
I grew and waited there apart,
Gathering perfume hour by hour,
And storing it within my heart,
Yet, never knew,
Just why I waited there and grew.
I dreamed that you were a bee
That one day gaily flew along,
You came across the hedge to me,
And sang a soft, love-burdened song.
You brushed my petals with a kiss,
I woke to gladness with a start,
And yielded up to you in bliss
The treasured fragrance of my heart;
And then I knew
That I had waited there for you.
poem by James Weldon Johnson
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Winter Gone
Winter is closed for another year
Spring has sprung upon us
Was the winter kind to you
I miss winter now its gone laying by the fire
The charcoal wood the flickering of the flames
Now the warmer days are coming
New life is born in spring
New dreams are dreamed
New beginings sad endings
The days will be longer now the cold has left the ground
For three months now we will have spring shower and sunshine
I miss you winter and all your beauty
But you will be back this i am certain
After the spring comes the summer
The scorching heat the rolls of thunder
I love the summer storms the lightning the rain
But i miss you winter and all your beauty
So goodbye my beauty for another year
I will miss you until autumn appears
Hendecasyllabics
In the month of the long decline of roses
I, beholding the summer dead before me,
Set my face to the sea and journeyed silent,
Gazing eagerly where above the sea-mark
Flame as fierce as the fervid eyes of lions
Half divided the eyelids of the sunset;
Till I heard as it were a noise of waters
Moving tremulous under feet of angels
Multitudinous, out of all the heavens;
Knew the fluttering wind, the fluttered foliage,
Shaken fitfully, full of sound and shadow;
And saw, trodden upon by noiseless angels,
Long mysterious reaches fed with moonlight,
Sweet sad straits in a soft subsiding channel,
Blown about by the lips of winds I knew not,
Winds not born in the north nor any quarter,
Winds not warm with the south nor any sunshine;
Heard between them a voice of exultation,
'Lo, the summer is dead, the sun is faded,
Even like as a leaf the year is withered,
All the fruits of the day from all her branches
Gathered, neither is any left to gather.
All the flowers are dead, the tender blossoms,
All are taken away; the season wasted,
Like an ember among the fallen ashes.
Now with light of the winter days, with moonlight,
Light of snow, and the bitter light of hoarfrost,
We bring flowers that fade not after autumn,
Pale white chaplets and crowns of latter seasons,
Fair false leaves (but the summer leaves were falser),
Woven under the eyes of stars and planets
When low light was upon the windy reaches
Where the flower of foam was blown, a lily
Dropt among the sonorous fruitless furrows
And green fields of the sea that make no pasture:
Since the winter begins, the weeping winter,
All whose flowers are tears, and round his temples
Iron blossom of frost is bound for ever.'
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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The Elusive New Zoo Gnu
They had a new gnu at the Zoo
And nobody knew.
Tho' the keeper, they say, had a clue;
And that's probably true,
Since he knew a new gnu was due,
And well he knew, too,
That the mother would hide it from view,
As a natural gnu
Will do.
For the instinct, innate in the gnu,
Known only to few
Is to hide a new gnu lest it rue
What ill-doers do.
Why should nature, we wonder, imbue
A beast like a gnu
With such caution? This fact, hitherto,
Few knew to be true.
Did you?
But they've found it at last at rhe Zoo -
Such a shy little gnu,
White of tail and the coat that it grew
Of indefinite hue.
And now, I suppose, a long queue
Will be waiting to view
This nice little new Zoo gnu.
Such sights ever drew
Quite a crew.
But who knew the new gnu at the Zoo
For the first day or two?
Who guessed where 'twas hidden, and who,
As new rumors flew,
Ever thought, ever dreamed ever drew
Some vague hint, or grew
Suspicious? Where was he? Who knew?
Not the crane, not the white cockatoo
Who ejaculates, 'How do you do?'
Not the apes all emblazoned in blue,
Not the owl with his dreary 'Too-woo!'
Nor tapir, nor tiger who slew
His prey 'mid the ginat bamboo
Once, back of Bengal, in Kooloo;
Not elephant, not kangaroo,
None knew; none knew;
Not aman, not a beast in the Zoo
From its hub to its furthrest purlieu . . .
But the new gnu knew.
Too true!
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In the spring garden
In the spring garden
~
In the spring garden
Birds sing and chatter
While flowers raise their heads
To greet the morning sun
A garden filled with colour bright
A garden which now fills with life
The bee and the butterfly hover
From flower to flower gathering nectar
Seeding the flowers blossom
Throughout the spring garden
The dew glistens upon the grass
While the wind gently rolls in the tree
All the world slowly waking
Soon to this bounty of great beauty
Every hue from natures pallet
Is here free for all to see
In the spring garden
poem by Matthew Holloway
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Nymph And Zephyr: A Statuary Group. By Westmacott
AND the summer sun shone in the sky,
And the rose's whole life was in its sigh,
When her eyelids were kiss'd by a morning beam,
And the Nymph rose up from her moonlit dream;
For she had watch'd the midnight hour
Till her head had bow'd like a sleeping flower;
But now she had waken'd, and light and dew
Gave her morning freshness and morning hue,--
Up she sprang, and away she fled
O'er the lithe grass stem and the blossom's head,
From the lillies' bells she dash'd not the spray,
For her feet were as light and as white as they.
Sudden upon her arm there shone
A gem with the hues of an Indian stone,
And she knew the insect bird whose wing
Is sacred to PSYCHE and to spring;
But scarce had her touch its captive prest
Ere another prisoner was on her breast,
And the Zephyr sought his prize again,--
'No,' said the Nymph, thy search is vain:
And her golden hair from its braided yoke
Burst like the banner of hope as she spoke,
'And instead, fair boy, thou shalt moralize
Over the pleasure that from thee flies;
Then it is pleasure,--for we possess
But in the search, not in the success.'
poem by Letitia Elizabeth Landon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Dreamed.
I dreamed a dream and in that dream,
I dreamed that I had dreamed a dream,
Of hope and fairytales come true,
I dreamed a dream and thought of truth,
I dreamed a dream of life and love,
Of fate and angels and God above,
I dreamed a dream of good wishes and friends,
I dreamed a dream I dreaded to end,
But then I woke into my dream,
I dreamed I woke in a world obscene,
I dreamed a dream of violence and hate,
And once again I dreamed of fate,
I dreamed a dream of terror and fear,
I dreamed that each word went unheard,
And so children never spoke a word,
I dreamed a dream of demons and beasts,
I dreamed a dream that ended at last,
I woke in my bed and wondered if,
I dreamed a dream of dreams or if,
I dreamed a dream of truth that night,
And if so I wondered which was truth,
And which was merely a dream.
poem by Emma Wright
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Growing Season
The seasons work together
To make the world possible
Summer, the sun season
Fall, the leaf season
Winter, the snow season
And spring, the time of beauty
Summer, the yellow season
Fall, the orange season
Winter, the white season
And spring, the time of the rainbow
Summer, the blank season
Fall, the shadow season
Winter, the dying season
And spring, the growing season
The growing season
The Appeal
ALL summer-time you said:
'Love has no need of shelter nor of kindness,
For all the flowers take pity on his blindness,
And lead him to his scented rose-soft bed.'
'He is a king,' you said.
'That I bow not the knee will never grieve him,
For all the summer-palaces receive him.'
But now Love has not where to lay his head.
'He is a god,' you said.
'His altars are wherever roses blossom.'
And summer made his altar of her bosom,
But now the altar is ungarlanded.
Take back the words you said:
Out in the rain he shivers broken-hearted;
Summer who bore him has with tears departed,
And o'er her grave he weeps uncomforted.
And you, for all you said,
Would weep too, if when dawn stills the wind's riot,
You found him on your threshold, pale and quiet,
Clasped him at last, and found the child was dead.
poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When The Clocks Go Back
I dread the day, when the clocks go back;
Of daylight hours, there’s now a real lack.
I wish that, like some animals, we could hibernate,
As winter is a time of year, which I don’t highly rate.
At six o’clock, in the summer, it was still really very light,
But the same time, in winter, feels like the dead of night.
Once it gets dark, it suddenly feels really late,
And, these are the days, which I really hate.
There are a few winter events, on which, I’m keen,
Such as, Christmas, Bonfire Night, and Halloween.
But, for me, winter is just a season, to be got through;
It’s hard to keep myself from feeling down and blue.
My system begins to feel rather sluggish and slow,
As everything around me, loses its once golden glow.
Unlike, in the summer, when you feel at your best,
In winter, it’s all too easy, to lose some of your zest.
On dark evenings, it is now more dangerous to roam,
And, if I do, then it means getting a taxi back home.
On long summer evenings, people love to sit outside,
But, in winter, in their homes, they’d much rather hide.
With less daylight hours, there’s an increase in crime;
Unfortunately, for us, it’s a sign of our modern times.
For people, who now go to and from work, in the dark,
It’s no longer safe, to take a short cut through the park.
One of my favourite times of year, is the onset of spring;
A time when my sleepy soul, once more, begins to sing.
Spring is a season, which I really look forward to;
The onslaught of winter, it helps me to pull through.
Winter weather is very often dull and grey,
With persistent, heavy rain, on many a day.
When the weather warms up, I feel on a high:
Glad that the winter has, at last, passed on by.
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sons Of Summer
(billy mernit)
It makes me smile
To think of what we dreamed of
Where are those sons of summer now
With their wild-haired women in their
Patchwork gowns
Who could laugh the lights away
Nights on the beach and bay
The course on farms
And the course in the bar
Sweet smokin in the back of the car
Always the first time shines to last like a morning star
Like a morning star
Its been a while since the last time we were dancing
Where are those sons of summer now
With their long-limber ladies who all knew how
To chase the blues away
Ive got the blues today
Your ivy days and your clubhouse ways
Wine mug nights when the music played
Love that is real will not fade away like a morning star
Where are those sons of summer now
The winter has come
And you dont know how to turn your
Dreams into coal
Your books wont hold you
The woods get cold
And I feel too old
I begin to question your schoolboy soul
Clever remarks that once won my heart
When the fire wont light they lose their spark
And I cant help but get a little bit blue
Thinking about the precious nothing we
Once knew
song performed by by Carly Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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