An Elegy In Frost
Cold sunshine writes our elegy in frost,
Author of light a million snowflakes lost,
All gone forever into swirling air,
A dance of death that is no longer there.
Pure poetry becomes a stanza said,
Classical white a message left unread,
While we stand longing for a winter past,
Hurt by a mood that was too fey to last.
West is a shadow wrapped around frail bones,
Your hand in mine for eloquence atones.
Touch is a brevity that needs no sound
To turn the weather of the world around.
poem by Sandra Fowler
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Silent Pages
Another passing moment
writes a line in the firmament
And the passing days
Write their own verse of phrases
Another passing year
Writes another stanza,
Of an episode
Whether an elegy or an ode
Every passing generation
a new chapter adds to the collection
Every passing age,
filling another volume of pages
Every thought and deed
known or hid,
that lived and living lives articulate,
hath but no exact duplicate;
a draft manuscript,
a record accurate and fair
without corrections, to keep
in a great library somewhere
A labor in quiet, silent and solemn
the never ending book of poems
being written without hands
and the imprints thereof burned
forever into memories
and left as evidence or legacies
For posterity?
Or to present one day?
The silent words may not always rhyme
Nor make sense
But then musical chimes
of a million spheres
make as much sense…
singin’ in the universe
…but then only to the author
or the composer
alone, perhaps?
poem by Lyre Bleus
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Snowflakes Falling
Snowflakes, falling, from miraculous heights.
Snowflakes, falling, on a cold winter's night.
Snowflakes, falling, airy and light.
Snowflakes, falling, on a cold winter's night.
Snowflakes, falling, a blanket of white.
Snowflakes, falling, on a cold winter's night.
Snowflakes, falling, crystalline delight.
Snowflakes, falling, on a cold winter's night.
poem by Ben Payton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poetry...Poetry...
Poetry...Poetry...
Poetry is in the beginning of new life,
Poetry is in the tears of a child,
Poetry is in the warmth of mother's kiss,
Poetry is in the child's bliss,
Poetry is in the hug of a father,
Poetry is in the love of a dear,
Poetry is in the happiness of affection,
Poetry is in the pain of separation,
Poetry is in someone's loss,
Poetry is in missing someone very close.
Poetry...Poetry...
Poetry is in the first rain,
Poetry is in the cultivation of first grain,
Poetry is in the first light of dawn,
Poetry is in the drops of dew o the grass of lawn,
Poetry is in the blowing of cool wind,
Poetry is in the beauty of green,
Poetry is in the twinkling star,
Poetry is in the aroma of a flower,
Poetry is in thunder and lightning,
Poetry is in the heat scorching.
Poetry...Poetry...
Poetry is something more sweeter than sweet,
Poetry is something more closer to heart beat,
Poetry is something more than the most beautiful creation,
Poetry is something more than the depth of an ocean,
Poetry is something more higher than the blue,
Poetry is something more true,
Poetry is something more enjoyable than wine,
Poetry is something more shiner than sunshine,
Poetry is something more pure than air,
Poetry is something which is present everywhere.
Poetry...Poetry...
Poet ry is not just rhyme,
Poetry is but the voice Divine,
Poetry is not just Poetry,
Poetry frames History,
After so many lines,
Poetry still remains undefined.
Poetry...Poetry...
poem by Akash Agrawal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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South Side Of The Sky
A river a mountain to be crossed
The sunshine in mountains sometimes lost
Around the south side so cold that we cried
Were we ever colder on that day a million
Miles away
It seemed from all eternity
Move forward was my friends only cry
In deeper to somewhere we could lie
And rest forthe the day with cold in the way
Were we ever colder on that day a million
Miles away
It seemed from all eternity
The moments seemed lost in all the noise
A snow storm a stimulating voice
Of warmth of the sky of warmth when you die
Were we ever warmer on that day a million
Miles away
We seemed from all eternity
The sunshine in mountains sometimes lost
The river can disregard the cost
And melt in the sky warmth when you die
Were we ever warmer on that day a million miles away
We seemed from all of eternity
song performed by by Yes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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South Side Of The Sky
A river a mountain to be crossed
The sunshine in mountains sometimes lost
Around the south side so cold that we cried
Were we ever colder on that day a million
Miles away
It seemed from all eternity
Move forward was my friends only cry
In deeper to somewhere we could lie
And rest forthe the day with cold in the way
Were we ever colder on that day a million
Miles away
It seemed from all eternity
The moments seemed lost in all the noise
A snow storm a stimulating voice
Of warmth of the sky of warmth when you die
Were we ever warmer on that day a million
Miles away
We seemed from all eternity
The sunshine in mountains sometimes lost
The river can disregard the cost
And melt in the sky warmth when you die
Were we ever warmer on that day a million miles away
We seemed from all of eternity
song performed by by Yes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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South Side Of The Sky (acoustic)
Jon Anderson/Chris Squire)
A river a mountain to be crossed
The sunshine in mountains sometimes lost
Around the south side so cold that we cried
Were we ever colder on that day a million
Miles away
It seemed from all eternity
Move forward was my friend's only cry
In deeper to somewhere we could lie
And rest forthe the day with cold in the way
Were we ever colder on that day a million
Miles away
It seemed from all eternity
The moments seemed lost in all the noise
A snow storm a stimulating voice
Of warmth of the sky of warmth when you die
Were we ever warmer on that day a million
Miles away
We seemed from all eternity
The sunshine in mountains sometimes lost
The river can disregard the cost
And melt in the sky warmth when you die
Were we ever warmer on that day a million miles away
We seemed from all of eternity
-------------------------------------------------------
song performed by by Yes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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South Side Of The Sky (acoustic)
Jon Anderson/Chris Squire)
A river a mountain to be crossed
The sunshine in mountains sometimes lost
Around the south side so cold that we cried
Were we ever colder on that day a million
Miles away
It seemed from all eternity
Move forward was my friend's only cry
In deeper to somewhere we could lie
And rest forthe the day with cold in the way
Were we ever colder on that day a million
Miles away
It seemed from all eternity
The moments seemed lost in all the noise
A snow storm a stimulating voice
Of warmth of the sky of warmth when you die
Were we ever warmer on that day a million
Miles away
We seemed from all eternity
The sunshine in mountains sometimes lost
The river can disregard the cost
And melt in the sky warmth when you die
Were we ever warmer on that day a million miles away
We seemed from all of eternity
-------------------------------------------------------
song performed by by Yes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Snowflakes
Soft snowflakes drift daintily down,
Without so much as a single sound.
Swirling around, they're a dazzling sight,
And they make the world seem so bright.
Each flake possesses a pattern so very rare,
That no two flakes can make a matching pair.
They each take on a very delicate form,
Which melts away, when it gets warm.
Each unique, frozen crystal is so very tiny;
Glistening in the sunlight, they look so shiny.
Each is a masterpiece: a major work of art,
Which, from our lives, will very soon depart.
Falling snowflakes appear so fluffy and soft,
When, caught by the wind, they dance aloft.
Single snowflakes are as light as a feather,
But weigh a ton, when collected together.
On every surface, the snowflakes collect:
Soon, with white, everything is bedecked.
The snowflakes form a thick carpet of white,
As they settle down, following their flight.
Things, which were familiar to our eyes,
Are suddenly more difficult to recognise.
Snow seems to change the world's face,
And it suddenly seems a different place.
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mother Russia
Mother russia how are you sleeping
Middle winter cold winds blow
From the trees the snowflakes drifting
Swirling round like ghosts in the snow
Mother russia poetry majestic
Tells the time of a great empire
Turning round the old man ponders
Reminiscing an age gone by
Mother russia
Dance of the tsars
Hold up your heads
Be proud of what you are
Now it has come
Freedom at last
Turning the tides of history
And your past
Mother russia
Dance of the tsars
Hold up your heads
Remember who you are
Can you release
The anger the grief
Can you be happy
Now your people are free
song performed by by Iron Maiden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Man Became Addicted To Poetry
A MAN BECAME ADDICTED TO POETRY
A man became addicted to poetry-
Wherever he went he read or wrote a few lines-
Poetry became much of what he did-
Poetry and poetry and poetry-
As if that alone could give meaning and pleasure to his life.
A man became addicted to poetry
And so lost at times
What true poetry is –
Now he writes without knowing
Whether he is truly writing
Or merely using the ‘idea and world of poetry’
For his own peace of mind.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Dance with Death
Consecrated cold earth
There is no dignity
Sworn to die from birth
Here to lie for eternity
So is there glory in death
Never again to feel warm
Or see the light of day
Is death the prize for life
I’ve got the stench of death
On my hands
I just buried a friend
Dance with Death
I saved his life
To put him in the ground
Such a high price
Can’t break the chains, I’m bound
I have a fire inside me
Feels like I’m from hell
What else could it be
Death has me in its spell
I have to say good bye
It would be much better
But I keep seeing his eyes
I know I’ll see them forever
I’ve gotta let him go
I need to end the pain
But I don’t know how
Seems I’m caught in this game
I have the stench of death
On my hands
I just buried a friend
Dance with Death
I’m in that dance
The waltz of endings
The horrid trance
Of new beginnings
I’ve got a dance with death
Swing to his song
Take your last breath
It won’t be long
You’ve gotta move to the beat
Dance with death
Play his song for me
Dance with death
poem by Haley Revell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Dont Write Poetry!
i dont write poetry...
i sweat poetry, i drink poetry,
i breathe poetry, i make love to poetry,
i fight poetry, i eat poetry,
i bleed poetry, i crap poetry...
too often i betray poetry,
sometimes i dropp poetry.
once i tripped over poetry,
got angry and kicked poetry.
i rocked poetry on a sleepless night,
i buried poetry on the hill...
i lived poetry, for i am poetry...
no, i dont write poetry,
but poetry writes me!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Sunshine Sunshine
Sounds of laughter here comes sunshine
Smiling faces all around
They possess you bless you sunshine
Now you can never let them down
I say sunshine
Sunshine, sunshine
Is that a cloud across your smile or did you dream again last night
Its best you rest inside a while as blue doesnt seem to suit you right
Things aint what they used to be pain and rain and misery
Illness in the family and sunshine means a lot to me
I say sunshine
But could it be sunshine is drifting with midnight
And lonely when everyones gone
Blue crystal spirits and gardens in moonlight
Leave weak alone and bleak all quiet and grey by dawn
Sunshine sunshine
Rising to late to chase the cold and failing to change the frost to dew
Shes trading her mood of yellow gold for frost bitten shades of silver
Blue
Friends and lovers past and gone and no-one waiting further on
Im running short of things to be and sunshine means quiet a lot to me
I say sunshine... sunshine
song performed by by James Taylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Definition of Poetry by a 15 yr old
Poetry does not need a meaning or defintion.
Poetry is how the reader reads it,
Poetry is how the poet writes it.
Poetry is real,
Poetry is fake,
Poetry is everything,
Poetry is fate.
Poetry is rythm.
Poetry can ryme.
Poetry is anything, I make it mine.
poem by Eric Graham
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poetry according to a cynic
Poetry is not
Beautiful words strung together to make you light
Poetry is not
Appreciated by anyone but the author
Poetry is not
Structured and redundant
Poetry is not
All about why women leave, taking pieces of your soul
Poetry is
Life, as you see it
poem by Scott Campbell
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Healing Through Poetry
The content of her book is very nice
And what she writes about she knows
She tells us of her struggles so well
Her love for God and His Son just flows
I am so glad that I got her book
Faith thru her book the soul uplifts
From my heart I recommend it to you
'Healing through Poetry' is a poetic gift
I really enjoyed reading this book so much
She surely shares some of her hopes and pain
Her poetry is a true tale of faith and love
Mary's healing thru Christ shows not in vain
Wonderful author gave me another perspective
Her love for her son shines all the way indeed
Poetry content can bring inspiration to all
For my part I'm happy that her book I've read
November 22,2009
Author's note: 'Healing Through Poetry.' This is Mary Ann Duhart's first poetry book.
poem by Dorian Petersen Potter
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A Poet Loses His Power For Poetry
A POET LOSES HIS POWER FOR POETRY
A poet loses his power for poetry
He can put down words
But they no longer have poetry in them
Something of the feeling of what real poetry is
is gone.
He strives
He writes again and again
He puts words down in the forms and in the shapes his poems usually take
But he has no poetry in him
He has lost what he is
And all he can do
is strive again and again
Word after word
Silence after silence
To hear within himself again
A voice he does not have.
The poet is writing poetry
And it is not poetry
The poet is dead
And he is pretending to be alive
Is this a poem?
Is he a poet
Is he dead?
Is he alive?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Killing Frost
There is an enchantment in the Killing Frost
It's the most magical night of the year
When the abundant blooms of Summer
Are put to sleep by Frost's frozen tears.
The Killing Frost arrives here silently
Flying in ahead of Winter's incoming wrath
Covering all things that are of the earth
Putting to sleep all flora in her path.
As the late Autumn sun sinks below the horizon
On this Special Night of the year
Plants which were all alive this past morn will be no more
It's time to make way for Winter's Cheer.
Everything Frost kisses will be put to eternal repose
Adorned by Frost's magical breath during the night
All will be dripping in Diamonds in the Morn
With which to dazzle by soft Morning's light.
Winter will be arriving shortly now
And Frost will take her leave
To make way for fluttering snowflakes
Which will come to dance during the long Winter's Eve.
poem by Christine A Kysely (29 December 2010)
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ah, But Sometimes
Im a moody and swirling pool, lost in some dark wood
Angry at a million things and more
I can do no good
Ah, but sometimes -
Sometimes Im a growing blade of grass
Washed by the rain, bent by the wind
Im a deeply wounded lonely tree
Lost in my own way
Brooding on the saddest things and worse
Ive seen my better day
Im an old and broken tumbleweed
Lost on faded sands
Dreaming of my yesterdays before
I watch the heat waves dance
song performed by by Jackson Browne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Death Is Death, Dissolution Of All
All over this mammoth Earth,
There is nothing like death;
All over this mammoth Earth,
Nothing escapes death
Except that strange death itself.
What is this death,
Perchance, death itself knows not;
Whence it springs,
Where are its wings,
Fancied none in these million years.
It’s the live black hole
In dance along the time’s scale;
Nothing escapes its rapacious field
And nothing ever breaks out of its shield,
Death is death, dissolution of all.
Is death a beginning, none ever ever knows,
No mysteries as mysterious as death ever is;
No light or shade nor talent prised it,
No voyages ever came back out of its womb,
Nor light-years ever scaled the depth of death.
Death brings down all to the Nature’s womb,
To the Natures pristine pure form;
No rise or fall nor glory or shame,
‘Neath the mysterious death, all are same;
Indeed, the supreme equalizer is death.
Death is true peace, death is ultimate pain,
Death is finding peace in the folds of pain;
Death robs light and spreads dark night
And numbs soul to the inevitable truth, that
Born out of night, but we are part of that night.
poem by Praveen Kumar
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