Gold Clouds
As the wind goes on to its own stream
In the gold clouds of tomorrow rising
Like a summer of flowers gold sunbeam
Those from a fantasy world are actualizing
With flow in the evening rays
As the wind goes on to its own stream
And everything is in its twilight’s dream
When glow of the evening plays
With every agleam that as arisen your mind
In the flickering clouds dancing high
When those moments of days are left behind
In the night falling beyond starry sky
And the night fills with dark allays
*(lyric from 1 of my trance songs)
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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Dreams
I HAVE been dreaming all a summer day
Of rare and dainty poems I would write;
Love-lyrics delicate as lilac-scent,
Soft idylls woven of wind, and flower, and stream,
And songs and sonnets carven in fine gold.
The day is fading and the dusk is cold;
Out of the skies has gone the opal gleam,
Out of my heart has passed the high intent
Into the shadow of the falling night—
Must all my dreams in darkness pass away?
I have been dreaming all a summer day:
Shall I go dreaming so until Life’s light
Fades in Death’s dusk, and all my days are spent?
Ah, what am I the dreamer but a dream!
The day is fading and the dusk is cold.
My songs and sonnets carven in fine gold
Have faded from me with the last day -beam
That purple lustre to the sea-line lent,
And flushed the clouds with rose and chrysolite;
So days and dreams in darkness pass away.
I have been dreaming all a summer day
Of songs and sonnets carven in fine gold;
But all my dreams in darkness pass away;
The day is fading, and the dusk is cold.
poem by Victor James Daley
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When The Sun Was Throwing Its Last Rays On The Earth
When the sun was throwing its last rays on the earth,
your hand found mine at twilight,
the evening sky was suddenly smudged by blood
while the evening-wind was softly scattering sand,
while people hurried home from their jobs
and something in your glance had drawn me closer to you
and when suddenly lightning bolts were falling
we found shelter
against thunderbolts sounding ominous,
against the wild stormy wind
we stood for long moments in each other’s arms
while the rain were pattering down, while the storm quieted down
with the clouds suddenly drawing open
and the moon’s rays falling magically about us.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Sun Sets in Molten Gold
The sun sets in molten gold.
The evening clouds form a jade disk.
Where is he?
Dense white mist envelops the willows.
A sad flute plays “Falling Plum Blossoms.”
How many Spring days are left now?
This Feast of Lanterns should be joyful.
The weather is calm and lovely.
But who can tell if it
Will be followed by wind and rain?
poem by Li Ching Chao
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Autumn Feeling
Feeling of love is everywhere
As the times go on by
I'll remember it here and there
Like sun glow in the sky
Days gone were lonely some
Everything is again calling
Emotions like summer blossom
Day to the autumn falling
Feeling of a dream in heart
Love like tones of deep
Everything goes night will start
Nothing is ours to keep
Garden flowers falling leaves
Songs of summer leaving
Moments in their lonely grieves
Hours in shadows deceiving
Feeling inside of loneliness
As autumn says goodbye
Moments of green and caress
Falling leaves on their fly
Everything had its summer dream
Now it time is done
Yesterdays in the autumn stream
Hours of remembrance on
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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Summer Is Here
I hear the sounds of children at play,
as the sun has turned
the black clouds of rain away.
Summer is here
and laughter fills the air,
flowers fill the gardens
with colour everywhere.
After a hard days work
you feel free,
some will sit the evening out
eyes glued to the TV.
Not for me the little box,
rather an evening stroll.
Then sit to rest
my weary bones somewhere,
letting the cool evening breeze
dance with my hair.
As I sit quietly
absorbing all around.
Watching the sun
sink slowly in the west.
Breathing in the cool evening air,
as night begins to call.
11 June 2007
poem by David Harris
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When the sun goes down late in the afternoon (anaphora poem)
When late in the afternoon the sun hangs just above the trees and hillocks,
I think that you must experience the colours of the clouds yourself
I think that it would be pretty in a landscape painting,
I think that this dusk brings a silence, that it’s lonely without you,
I think that you are late, are maybe still working, or have got some other plans
I think that the gathering clouds will catch you with rain,
I think that the doves tomorrow evening will also be in love and coo like this,
I think that the jasmine and lavender tomorrow evening will also fill the air.
I think I will dream of branches that hit from the wind on the roof,
I think that maybe tomorrow I will see you for the last time.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Love Song To The Coming Morning
I'm like night in the sunset
Feeling red clouds in the sky
Wind in the trees full of breeze
Swirling up leaves so they fly
Meadows and hills shades in blue
Flowers in silver and gold
Darkness comes so untrue
Fairies in the moonlight hard to hold
Magical moments in twilight
Breaking off silences with a song
Leaving the day coming to night
Shadows are still though young
I'm like night in the sunset
Touching the moments that go
Into umbrage of absurdities
That lived in the day a while ago
Lilies and fields are in darkness
Moon is behind a blue cloud
Day shall wake up in dawn fresh
When dusky shadows are disallowed
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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28 Wind Poems
Wind chimes play not on time... but when the Spirit moves.
The South Wind has for the evening donned jasmine scent*
*
The wind weaves many white caps so quickly for the blue sea
*
Mother Wind moves the water rocker
to and fro on the stormy sound's deeps. On the boatcradle by lapping
waves she is softly lulled to sleep.
*
Will, your winded wings will win.
*
Clouds' whitewaterweave covered the sky.. and yet
everywhere there was a patch of blue.. it was a different
hue... here aqua.. there cerulean... or teal or indigo
*
The east wind blowing westward marries the falling rain
turning her attention elsewhere
*
Crosswinds quilt the Connecticut River ever so slightly
but stil the waters flow to the sea.
*
As gauzy veils lie on the shoulders of the slender, as avalanche
clouds pour through tall firs, as morning mist
rolls through ship masts, do monsoon clouds flow
over the peaks of the Himalayas
*
Froggie croaks on his rock dais encircled by dizzy daisies
throughout summer days. The wind makes them wave in applause.
*
The wind has blown away the cloud cover..
and he pond's reflection from grey to blue clover
*
Spirit Wind when talking with wind chimes
strikes not on the hour nor at the 'right' time
================================= ===
poem by Saiom Shriver
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Blue Gold Sky
Blue gold sky
Your fire is burning
Horizon questions why
Your evening is yearning
For a day that is soon gone
Into oblivion abyss
To carry the night on
In dreamy nocturnal kiss
All the blue gold is bound
Into your drifting clouds
Sunset of silver found
Among the streets and crowds
Love song of dusky distant
Where weaving dreams go
In to the nonexistent
Of ocean’s nightly glow
Blue gold sky
Yesterday is in your sight
When you come in sweet lullaby
In the falling off the eve light
Chariot of fire gold
Blue silver moon beyond
Nothing your dreams can hold
You are to stars whishes bond
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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Let It Shine On
Let it shine on
All that is glowing
Never be gone
In a world of going
Let it have gold
Shining on so fine
In our eyes to hold
Glisten like sunshine
A bouquet of flowers
In a dream to find
Moments and hours
Those left behind
Everything is falling
Like a glow to dark
Memories on calling
In their old spark
Let it shine through
Weaving its fine
Always again to renew
In days of sunshine
Winter is now coming
Frosty white clear
Past days all summing
In dark that´s near
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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Tz'u No. 7
To the tune of "Rinsing Silk Stream"
Let not the deep cup be filled
with rich, amber-colored wine;
My mind was eased of sorrow
even before I was drunk.
Distant bells have already echoed
in the evening breeze.
My dream is broken
as the scent of incense vanishes.
Too small, the hairpin of the gold
of warding-off-cold
loosens its hold of my tresses.
I awake to find myself blankly facing
the red flickering glow
of the candle.
poem by Li Ching Chao
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To Where The River Flows
to where the river flows love knows to where it might go for when it kisses the evening snow heart's are filled with silver and gold not to see the shimmer of light until you hold some one tight when will she know she is miss right until she sees that mystic night when the love starts to flow like the river of gold until they unite they will never grow old until this north wind starts to blow down the river it will go waiting for that evening snow
poem by Fredrick McDonald
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A Rose With A Tinted Past
A wind from the north country.
Blows through the tapestry of my mind.
Like flowers in the wind.
I sway like a silver birch.
Winging high I soar though the sky.
A bird of tell tale feather below.
Ah, a rose with a tinted past.
A tear of dew on each new petal.
Shadow of sky I see.
A big yellow eye that warns me.
Spring has fallen by the way side.
Summer warms each small bed.
Sleep eluded the dreamers head.
Days hark of summer sandwich paste.
Eaten down in gulps of haste.
Gone are the winter winds.
Replaced by summers warm rays.
Ah, our rose with a tinted past.
Born out of a refuse tip.
Born with buds pointing skyward high.
To catch the sun through a cloudy sky.
Born with a majestic air.
The dark clouds of heaven see you there.
Rain dances on your petals blight.
Sky thunder roars.
Storm of shadows pass overhead.
Wind of tears, tears and shreds,
the petals from our roses head.
Sky of blue, no clouds of night.
Looks down at the sorry sight.
Head limp, beauty gone.
Sadness of glory light.
No longer see the sunlight.
Petals sweet, insect head.
Food for natures bed.
Earth dust shower still.
Life is short to fulfil
Day - night passes a solemn breath.
For our tinted roses death.
13 June 1978
poem by David Harris
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I'll ask a Bluebird…
I'll ask a bluebird
To sing a summer song
Tones so lovely slurred
For life is coming along
Each day and night tender
Of love songs in the air
My thoughts to this surrender
In tunes of moments fair
I'll ask a thrush that plays
Its summer forest songs
Why each of them dallies
To a heart that longs
When breezy are the leaves
Of the wandering hour
With many thoughts of eves
For the meadow flower
Night of late shall come
To every summer singing
Growing on tincturing blossom
An end to their dreams bringing
For love shall fly away
Into another living wave
Where flowers in wind sway
With the new songs to crave
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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a Fantasy Re-lived
A once upon a time
Live fantasy insulated me
Just as on that evening when
It diluted misery to its last dreg
Dissolving it in the scent of
Freshly watered grass
And the melting sun
Twilight shadows
Played upon the eager skin
Till darkness descended
To breathe life into your hands
That picked the water droplets
Off my faltering feet
How we’re cut off from
The physicality of the surroundings
Even the gardener, reduced to a dot
In the fading light of the sun
Only the scent we had absorbed
Wafting around…
That fairytale fantasy
Came to be seated by me
On this dark cement bench
Yes, I relived every moment
Of that once upon a time fantasy
On this summer evening
Under a flickering bulb…
10 Apr 2011
06.05hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Life's Seasons
When all the world was Mayday,
And all the skies were blue,
Young innocence made playday
Among the flowers and dew;
Then all of life was Mayday,
And clouds were none or few.
II
When all the world was Summer,
And morn shone overhead,
Love was the sweet newcomer
Who led youth forth to wed;
Then all of life was Summer,
And clouds were golden red.
III
When earth was all October,
And days were gray with mist,
On woodways, sad and sober,
Grave memory kept her tryst;
Then life was all October,
And clouds were twilight-kissed.
IV
Now all the world's December,
And night is all alarm,
Above the last dim ember
Grief bends to keep him warm;
Now all of life's December,
And clouds are driven storm.
poem by Madison Julius Cawein
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Sonnet for a Grey Morning
Another grey morning, much like the last
and for tomorrow, more fog’s the forecast.
When days seem the same, life always seems cold.
Night flows to night, the sad world grows old
as clouds wrap my soul in still, fatal pall
but hearts must be silent, though bold blood calls
for death to cruel winter, and end to dark days,
fair spring to release enthralled golden rays.
But looking at you, I see in your eyes
the brilliance lost from blue summer's last sky
and when you smile, in your warm glow I feel
your love overwhelm me, new suns revealed.
Overcast, confined though the earth may be
with you in my day, spring’s born endlessly.
poem by Steven Federle
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Rising
Rising
On the stream of music
When the dawn shines again new,
From the twilight
From the dark;
Coming through - the rays of light,
Sunshine - sunshine!
Sparkling glisten
Fire steams,
Growing light - beyond the dark;
Red and yellow
Sparkling sparkles,
Twisting shadows
To the deep!
Shades of tempers
Lights of amber,
Orange red and hot!
Flowing like the water
In the blood of fire!
Sparking glisten!
Sparking glisten!
Through the night
Of eternal space,
Through the haze
Of starry rays…
Morning comes and softens the night,
Morning gives the sparkling day.
Sunshine - sunshine!
Shades of tempers,
Sunshine - sunshine!
Beyond the night,
Sunshine - sunshine!
Traveler in dark!
Nirvana,
Haunt me not,
From your dwelling!
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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The driven flying Kite
sometimes I forget, the kite that I flew, has leave me to
trust in the wind, forgetting, the thread that knot between
you and me; rainy and sunny days mind the hour it blown
to the sky, as long the kite is ready to go
my way has gone for anything that hold you from me and
got a memory that last for a lifetime; the need to change the
mind that i still and i will love you, what ever it happen finds
that still you’re my purest dream, as star that gazes in the
milo of the sitting night, and a smile for me, indeed it begin
in your life
i am sure that together we will rise, for as the wings
of the dream fly high, everything is above that each we can’t
see; but surf in in all your speed in the stream of a traveling
in clouds, together we will go, in beyond the love of the sky
and as you came, i can’t believe my heart seems to go
behind for everything i can’t understand, until you hug in the
middle of the night, like time in all the time watching and
telling me that i will be alright
time has come and saying me that it might be you, that
kept me to quite, somehow those change my whole life to
hold and to go in what life would be, through the darkness
night i stay with you
just you tell me, that tomorrow is still a way of love
to love me, for each moment is a way to take me in your
Heart…in your life feel and tell me, to fly a kite with you and
share this today for today is way to conquer your loving
heart, love me then …..and….. hold you endlessly
poem by Antonio Liao
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Cerulean Winter’s Dim Dyes
Amber summer sky
Is now gone to winter's day
With its time of morning high
And moods of summer’s play
Those feelings that came along
In the days breaking clear
With the singing of a forest song
In the heat of springtime year
Now here is deepness dark
With its intermittently starry night
And twinkling's assemblies spark
With instants in northern light
Winter’s frost loneliness snow
Conveying some twilight’s spin
Emptiness in its airstream blow
From the lowest point of within
Cerulean winter’s dim dyes
Reflecting moods of nighttime
Through distracting ice-cold cries
In the piercing chilliness rime
Every day’s like an evening burn
Reflecting the departed days
Bringing on yesterday’s yearn
On to its copious shading plays
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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