Echoes of Summer
Echoes of summer fill the air
where barefoot children danced and played
grassy meadows now lie bare
in a seasonal passing parade
Lingering patches of green turn gold
as reflecting heaven’s gentle turning
glowing embers of August grow cold
while trees take on a velvety burning
Crimson spatters garnet tessellations
poised upon the breath's chilling
ricochet in frenzied coloration's
provide a view that is thrilling
Grace and splendor reflect this glory
color upon elegance in radiance
Nature whispers her ancient story
mirrored here in quiet resplendence
These are days of transitory beauties
when scurried creatures prepare for freeze
ants and insects do their duties
while wishes whisper through the trees
poem by Astral Shepherd
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A Summer's Ode
~0~
A summer's fallen from the sky, it seems,
with heat a'waving in the sultry breeze.
Though June has fled 'pon wings of time, now gone,
its goodbye echoes through the swaying trees.
And July brings its days of warmth to hold,
with sun a'melting in a sapphire sky.
O'summer's middle-aged by now, alas,
breathing fire upon the days that pass us by.
A gentle turn of earth brings August near,
with fleeting day and ever-ending night.
And July passes through the summer's rain,
its thunder heard within a season's flight.
And so, a summer's aged with sweet remorse,
with days a'dwindling down 'til chill's return.
Yet, September still must sing its last refrain,
'ere summer days of memory swiftly burn.
A summer's fallen from the sky, it seems,
with heat a'wavering as its days grow old.
Though bittersweet the parting soon will be,
goodbye echoes with a promise ~ made of gold.
~0~
poem by Hazelmarie Elliott
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In The Shade Of The Green Wood
In the shade of the green wood
The holly does grow,
While in soft rays of sunlight
The wild roses glow,
And I smell their sweet perfume
That gently floats by,
Past trees strong and mighty
That reach to the sky,
The pathway of gold autumn
Leaves still remain,
As I walk through the green wood again.
In the shade of the green wood
This bright sunny morn,
That's so cool in the shadows
A new day is born,
All the birds in the treetops
Are singing for me,
Sweet songs of the summer
Which fill me with glee,
And know from its beauty
I never shall part,
For the green wood does live in my heart.
In the shade of the green wood
A soft gentle breeze,
Now caresses the branches
And whispers through trees,
A sound reassuring
Shall carry me to,
All the scenes that exist
In each marvellous view,
It's here that my spirit
Shall always now stay,
And the green wood is guiding my way.
poem by Andrew Blakemore
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Along Came a Spider
Three small children played under the trees,
giggling as the crimson leaves
floated down onto their soft, innocent hands.
They ran about after eacher other
until they collapsed on the roots
holding the forest together
and their breath came out as a flutter,
their giggles came out in bursts,
and their hair stuck to moist skin.
They were tired.
They decided to go hom for their supper,
as they knew that their mothers would worry.
But, along came a spider.
This spider was no monster.
It was no towering beast coming
to attack the children. To do them harm.
It simply scurried past them,
and somewhere in their human nature,
the children were told to follow.
The children did as they were told.
To a feast the children came, following this spider,
and grinned at a tiny table set for a hundred-
each guest sat in his chair.
Their friend, the spider, took his seat and awaited
his applause, for he had brought,
as the party knew,
their dinner, fresh and soft.
And so the insects climbed the children;
they giggle as the tiny feet
caressed their untainted skin,
and the children ran in circles
with their new tiny friends,
until the insects could hold on no longer
and the children were safe at home.
poem by Zoe Guillory
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Come September
Come September,
when two of nature's seasons live as one,
where days of summer shed their final afterglow
'ere falling gently 'neath an autumn's rising sun,
and every hanging bough and turning leaf will know ~
the green meets gold,
within the murmurings and turnings of trees
that flutter their branches in a restless dance
of impending change. Their limbs akimbo, as arms,
waving goodbye...watching autumn advance,
yet, summer pleads,
to share the days of changeling September
and clings to every breath of autumn's eve ~
spreading warmth and sultry breeze with waning movement
while knowing time grows short, and it must leave,
as beauty stays,
though, not for long, for gold becomes gold
after summer's sung her final song,
and lustrous are the days and nights made bold
with autumn's breath blowing chilly and cold ~
O'grieve September,
though, not for long, as gold turns into winter white,
then into green with 'springing' guile,
and summer's sight brings back September,
to share a season's remembered smile.
poem by Hazelmarie Elliott
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Growth And Trees
Growth
Trees are conceived just as humans are
from seeds the striplings rise
Yet rooted to one place
They grow
No choice where their future lies
Subject to nature’s way’s and whim’s
bearing the brunt of chance
No option, no choice
No vote, no voice
they perform in the wind, their arboreal dance
And they grow
Like young children they blossom with grace and wonder
With litheness, with vibrance
Innocence thereunder
filled with awe and wonder
They grow, oh how they grow!
Tall and stronger, each day brings them closer
To the sky and the clouds
To the smell of ambrosia
like their wee kinfolk, in fields of timothy and clover
Children and trees know nothing of guile
Lies, treachery, deceit
The common, the elite
And yet all the while
They grow
With the approach of Fall winds, the trees sway and quiver
Immodestly dropping more leaves with each shiver and
a blanket of yellow, a patchwork of gold
Shielding the earth from winter’s coming cold
Settles silently,
Yet relentlessly
Shyly, yet bold
Through the winds of winter
Through the ice and the snow
They exist, they persist
They resist, they insist
That they grow
They grow
They awaken like children to springs fresh breath
Limbs green, supple and new
Buds swelling, birds dwelling, life is refreshed
Mother natures, spring time brew
Invigorating
Intoxicating and
Exhilarating too
Children and trees rush toward summer with glee and
Are dressed in new raiment to suit
The trees clad in green, the child’s green knees
New seeds in the ground taking root
Squirrels scratch the bark
The sparrow, the lark
They grow
The young, in nests, creation reborn
New life, new presence on earth
From womb, from eggs, new life is formed
The world as always gives birth
As it was
As it is
As it always will be
They will never cease
To grow.
poem by David Whalen
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Patches Of
patches of sunlight,
patches of clouds.
patches of Jesus,
patches of doubt.
patches of joy,
patches of pain.
patches of hope,
patches of strain.
patches of tomorrow,
patches of today.
patches of forever,
patches of 'cant stay'!
patches of loving,
patches of cold.
patches of youth,
patches of old.
patches of bravery.
patches of fear.
patches of happiness,
patches of tears.
patches of life,
patches of death.
patches of trying
with your last breath!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Ode to Karen and the Summer
June wore her green dress, long her favorite color
the color of her ancient Roman clan
Roman Green
June wore her green dress...as my finger traced a soft essay
upon your perfect back
June wore green
Karen wore blonde
and all around us was light
the solstice was the turning point- solstice curve
poignant as the course of the sun through our summer bodies
the season of the short-lived beings
dead through the dry folds of winter
to flood to life in green vigor
I'm green as a frog, green as any new bug rushing or Mayfly lingering
June's nephews, July and August, were lulled to boredom
by wine and soft days
and left us the blessing
to wallop and play in the gardens
Karen on a summer sidewalk
or a tv show
or a dream in the light
or green eyes
poem by Jimi Doyle
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Stones Whisper Tsunami Warnings
cool breeze soft whispers
wise carved sacred words
in ancient spirit tsunamis
marker warning stones
whisper in hot sunshine
heated days summer passing
whisper in ice cold breezes
winter snows seasons passing
whisper in ears of farmers
whisper in ears of artisans
whisper in ears of descendants
whisper in ears of samurai
earthquakes tsunamis
haunt over centuries
flee risk earthquakes
flee to safe mountains
poem by Terence George Craddock
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A Warm Summer Breeze
The trees whisper in the breeze
The forest peaceful, quiet, and serene.
The warm breeze like a soft caress,
Momentarily eliminating all stress.
Without delay it carries on
Leaving the place in silence when it's gone.
A summer day, a summer breeze,
Softly whispered through the trees.
The summer breeze, softly it comes,
Quickly it leaves,
Causing soft whispers in the trees.
It came and soon left, a warm summer breeze.
poem by Theo Townend
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The Life I Live
It has been said that blue is the color of the sky although others may say
Blue is an emotion when someone is close to tears-
Sad, melancholy and disheartened-
I look upwards toward the sky on a sunny day when
I don’t feel sad and blue.
Green is the color of the leaves upon the trees, although
I have heard others say they are jealous- green or envious-
I enjoy the trees, especially in the summertime,
Blown about in a gentle and cooling breeze-
The same leaves turn yellow, gold and orange in the autumn and
Fire blazes a bright red in color-
It is the fire of my spirit that burns
When anger plagues my troubled mind-
Rain falls and puts out the fires but
The rage inside of me is a shade of red that will not be tamed.
I look upward towards the sky on a sunny day,
As the leaves upon the trees rustle in the wind-
I pray for the rain to fall to quench the fury that burns my soul-
I don’t feel melancholy blue or jealous-green-
I have days when I enjoy the colors of the autumn foliage-
But the color red of rage defines the life I live.
Today I glance upward toward the blue sky and the leaves upon the trees-
Today I feel sad and blue and close to tears because
Of the pain that the fire inside of me that is always burning-
If the sun and the trees could laugh and send me good vibrations perhaps
They would cheer me and I could capture the colors blue, green, orange and yellow-
And perhaps even red as being bold and beautiful-
And with these colors I could paint a rainbow upon my horizon and
There would be no reason for anger to smolder my heart again-
I could laugh with the sun at the splendor of the rainbow against the sky of cobalt blue- And glad to say that raging fire of resentment
Is behind me now and I never feel sad and blue because
I have repainted my world with colors of joy, happiness and eagerness
To live my new life beneath that rainbow of contentment.-
Claudia Krizay
poem by Claudia Krizay
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Oh! Natural Beauties!
Earth laughs in flowers, flowers laugh in showers,
Sea laughs in fishes, fishes laugh in waters ……
Sky laughs in clouds, clouds laugh in rain, oh sire!
But man laughs in BSNL Towers and what a satire!
Nature is a wonderland; it is heaven's abode with elixir,
Thus, I wonder at this nature’s splendor!
In the garden with heaven’s flowers
Oh nature’s gifts! You are funny little fellows!
Oh natural beauties, you are dainty little dears!
Come! Come near me, Do you hear me, my little fellows!
Nature is a wonderland; it is heaven's abode with elixir,
Thus, I wonder at this nature’s splendor!
The woods are full of faeries!
As The trees are the lovers........
The garden is full of angels without worries!
As the flowers are the lovers.........
Nature is a wonderland; it is heaven's abode with elixir,
Thus, I wonder at this nature’s splendor!
Nature is admirable and inspirable........
Nature instills hope and enlightens us all days;
Being thus prepared for us in all ways with......
Good for food and made our life desirable;
Nature is a wonderland; it is heaven's abode with elixir,
Thus, I wonder at this nature’s splendor!
Let me hire satire! Let me fire human ire
poem by Harindhar Reddy
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A Song Of Riches
What will you give to a barefoot lass,
Morning with breath like wine?
Wade, bare feet! In my wide morass
Starry marigolds shine.
Alms, sweet Noon, for a barefoot lass,
With her laughing looks aglow!
Run, bare feet! In my fragrant grass
Golden buttercups blow.
Gift, a gift for a barefoot lass,
O twilight hour of dreams!
Rest, bare feet, by my lake of glass,
Where the mirrored sunset gleams.
Homeward the weary merchants pass,
With the gold bedimmed by care.
Little they wise that the barefoot lass
Is the only millionaire.
poem by Katharine Lee Bates
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There and back again for M 'lady Chitra
There are no blossoms to be seen.
They’ve served their turn and left the stage
The trees are clad in shades of green
One further step on their passage
from the bare twigs of winter time.
Stark silhouettes against the sky
then blossom time which is sublime
Providing pleasure for the eye/
The trees are in their summer dress
More subtle than their spring attire.
Waiting for autumn to impress
with leaves that seem to be on fire.
The autumn winds well strip them bare
and spread their glory on the ground.
A coloured blanket everywhere.
and twigs now dancing to the sound
of early winter gales that blow.
Creating eerie harmonies,
bare branches moving to and fro
produce discordant melodies.
The trees endure the winters rage,
the bitter cold and falling snow,
The know it’s just another stage
they’re well prepared to undergo.
Before the welcome spring returns
to prompt new tender leaves to grow
Followed by blossoms in their turn.
As seasons come and seasons go,
07/06/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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The Castle of Mains
Ancient Castle of the Mains,
With your romantic scenery and surrounding plains,
Which seem most beautiful to the eye,
And the little rivulet running by,
Which the weary traveller can drink of when he feels dry.
And the heaven's breath smells sweetly there,
And scented perfumes fill the air,
Emanating from the green trees and beautiful wild flowers growing there.
There the people can enjoy themselves
And wile away the time,
By admiring the romantic scenery In the beautiful sunshine;
And pull the little daisy,
As they carelessly recline
Upon the grassy green banks,
Which is most charming to see,
Near by the Castle of the Mains,
Not far from Dundee.
Then there's the old burying-ground,
Most solemn to see,
And the silent dead reposing silently
Amid the shady trees,
In that beautiful fairy dell
Most lovely to see,
Which in the summer season
Fills the people's hearts with glee,
To hear the birds singing and the humming of the bee.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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Fall is here!
The days are shorter
The suns rays are dimer
The wind starts to feel
Closer to winter
Trees leaves turn colors
Birds fly to where its warmer
The animals that can't fly
Prepare for the cold weather
Nights come quicker
The chilly breezes
Make you wear clothes
That are thicker
Trees leaves start to fall
At night the wind
Start to whisper
The season is changing
Time has fell back
This means winter is gaining
Nature is most precious
When the weather is changing
Hot long days and warmer nights
Traded for cool short days and chilly nights
Summer is over and fall is here!
poem by Jaycee Wilkerson
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Alone in the Woods
Alone in the woods I felt
The bitter hostility of the sky and the trees
Nature has taught her creatures to hate
Man that fusses and fumes
Unquiet man
As the sap rises in the trees
As the sap paints the trees a violent green
So rises the wrath of Nature's creatures
At man
So paints the face of Nature a violent green.
Nature is sick at man
Sick at his fuss and fume
Sick at his agonies
Sick at his gaudy mind
That drives his body
Ever more quickly
More and more
In the wrong direction.
poem by Stevie Smith
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Looking, Watching, Waiting
It's Winter now,
And everything is cold and bare.
Used to be lush and green,
Covered in leaves.
The snow is melting.
It's getting warmer.
Spring is on it's way.
Now Spring has come
The snow has all melted,
And the trees are getting more leaves.
It's warm now,
And i can't wait for Summer to arrive.
Summer is finally here!
I go outside and run barefoot through the streets.
Windows are open and the birds are singing.
Summer is finally here!
Now Summer is gone, and Fall is in the air.
Soon it will get colder,
And i will once again be looking, watching, waiting,
For Summer's arrival.
poem by Vi Lanflagle
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Good and Bad Children
Children, you are very little,
And your bones are very brittle;
If you would grow great and stately,
You must try to walk sedately.
You must still be bright and quiet,
And content with simple diet;
And remain, through all bewild'ring,
Innocent and honest children.
Happy hearts and happy faces,
Happy play in grassy places--
That was how in ancient ages,
Children grew to kings and sages.
But the unkind and the unruly,
And the sort who eat unduly,
They must never hope for glory--
Theirs is quite a different story!
Cruel children, crying babies,
All grow up as geese and gabies,
Hated, as their age increases,
By their nephews and their nieces.
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
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My Cup Of Drinks
My cup of drinks will,
never be filled.
The drinks of nature,
in my eyes, get reeled.
I drank the beauty of
the hill, streams, rivulet,
All other beauties,
before them ever fade.
The rivers dance as,
the little lass in me,
the trees, the plants,
the meadows and lea,
captivate me with their,
never-forget-smile,
The seas, oceans and the
mountains beguile,
their time, with me,
in my mind's little room.
Borrowing a brush and color,
I like them to groom.
My cups of drinks I
want to fill with thee.
O Nature! I know other
beauty can not satisfy me!
poem by Nilakshi Das
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Turn To Me
Turn to me, Burning me, Turn to me, Burning me
From all the taking down,
To the driving far away.
As if we're lost and found,
Removing us everyday yeah.
Pushing things too far,
Or never moving it along.
Forgiving and forget,
Only makes one person strong.
Hoping and finding, resisting, denying,
Hey, with your classic words of
Turn to me, that's what you say
When you're burning me, that's what you do
When you turn to me, need more days
And the time to turn you off.
Turn to me, that's what you say
When you're burning me, that's what you do
When you turn to me, need more days
And the time to turn you off.
There's no familiar face, or a hand to cling upon,
We've walked a short distance, but it took so very long.
Hoping and fighting, resisting, denying,
With your classic words of
Turn to me, that's what you say
When you're burning me that's what you do
When you turn to me, need more days
And the time to turn you off.
Knowing that we'll jump a little too high to live
Knowing that it's safe, but not safe enogh to give.
Your heart, your dream, no give, no recieve,
Respect, believe, turn to me.
Turn to me, burning me
Turn to me, time to turn you off,
Burning, me, turn to me, resisting, denying.
Turn to me, that's what you say
When you're burning me, that's what you do
When you turn to me, need more days
And the time to turn you off.
Turn to me, that's what you say
When you're burning me, that's what you do
When you turn to me, need more days
And the time to turn you off.
Oh why don't you, why don't you, why don't you, why don't you, why don't you
turn to me baby, time to turn you off,
Turning me not burning me, turning me not burning me, now turning me not
burning me, yeahhhhhh.
Turning me, oh burning me now na-ba-dupa-ba-dupa-ba-dupa yeahhhhhh
Turn me, oh burning me, why don't you burn me yeahhhhh
Turn to me, that's what you say
When you're burning me, that's what you do,
When you turn to me, need more days
And the time to turn you off.
Turn to me, that's what you say,
When you're burning me, that's what you do,
When you turn to me, need more days
And the time to turn you off!!
song performed by by Vanessa Amorosi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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