Related quotes: I woke up and the...

Medea and I were in love

I woke up and the world
was just the same
The trees are green
but the trees were always green

I had slept for a length of time
and the sky remained
and the stars
but they were always there

In mind I had an idea
A super crime
I dreamt about Medea
I dreamt about the time
Medea and I were in love
If I were able to alter time

If I woke up the world
would it be the same
With the trees green
but the trees were always green

Silent train journey through my mind
Of all places to go

Secretive passenger what is it that you hide
That at a crossing matters so

Like a whistle in the distance
An attraction to a child

I hear the excitement in the voices
But there is a man waving a red flag at the mouth of the tunnel

Silent train I will not let you into the darkness
I will not let go

Go back out again to the world
where this line stops and the rest of the world begins

poem by Lindsay Crosby
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Related quotes

When The Green Gits Back In The Trees

In spring, when the green gits back in the trees,
And the sun comes out and stays,
And yer boots pulls on with a good tight squeeze,
And you think of yer barefoot days;
When you ort to work and you want to not,
And you and yer wife agrees
It's time to spade up the garden lot,
When the green gits back in the trees--
Well! work is the least o' _my_ idees
When the green, you know, gits back in the trees!

When the green gits back in the trees, and bees
Is a-buzzin' aroun' agin,
In that kind of a lazy go-as-you-please
Old gait they bum roun' in;
When the groun's all bald where the hay-rick stood,
And the crick 's riz, and the breeze
Coaxes the bloom in the old dogwood,
And the green gits back in the trees,--
I like, as I say, in sich scenes as these,
The time when the green gits back in the trees!

When the whole tail-feathers o' wintertime
Is all pulled out and gone!
And the sap it thaws and begins to climb,
And the sweat it starts out on
A feller's forred, a-gittin' down
At the old spring on his knees--
I kind o' like jes' a-loaferin' roun'
When the green gits back in the trees--
Jes' a-potterin' roun' as I--durn--please--
When the green, you know, gits back in the trees!

poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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A lane in England

In autumn I walked in England
in a lane full of trees
where leaves lay auburn
on a road wet from rain.

Barren, stripped oak trees
were between other green ones
and it was as if I was going
right through a tunnel
with here and there trees
of which the leaves were more yellow.

In the distance the road bended to the right
where a bush fence
cut neatly square
and telephone poles
ran along the edge of the road

and the green moss banks
were covered with auburn leaves
at places
and on the other side
of the road
a shrub stretched out green and long
like a sausage
that was lying next to the road

and I would love
to have a lane like that
next to my driveway.

poem by Gert Strydom
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Plant More Trees

Plant more trees
As it looks green
And save the homes of the animals please.

Plant more trees
As it looks green
To keep the humans safe
From pollution and disease.

Plant more trees
As it looks green
To keep the cities beautiful and clean.
And throw the garbage into a dustbin.

Stop cutting trees
And plant more trees
For a long live of you and me!

poem by Srijita Das
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The Greens Of These Trees These Leaves

THE GREENS OF THESE TREES THESE LEAVES

The greens of these trees these leaves
The many shades of green-
Olive green and deep dark green and yellow green
And greens I see but have no name for-
So many shades of light and beauty in green
And I with my eyes loving them all
And delighted and made happy by them all-

Wondering why and how God's world
Has so so much Beauty
Just in green alone -
And being deep in happiness
At being alive
And loving them more
In regretting why and how
I will not one day soon
be able to see them again.

poem by Shalom Freedman
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From A Train

Green and green; and evergreen
in my all, and scurrying
in flickered films
of glimpses, painted green...
and a car in the lane silently shimmers,
as I hear the morning swaying past trees that,
green over green,
silently guard the wet summer sadness,
where cattle stare at the hopping rooks
and do not know
of the things that have been...
or care.

Cloudly and bright:
passing the green.
Where, in my remembrance of once long ago,
I felt the mist
rising unseen from the grass
that was green between green
when we kissed.

So I hum a small phrase
that carries my thoughts
ever and onwards,
listlessly flowing
like the world that is passing
the window beside me
all behind all, so totally green
and all in my knowing
and all in my all
and all in my green.

poem by Peter Jones
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Green, green and green

I want a holiday with a scene
Of green, green and green

A summer of green trees
A landscape of green grass
A view full of green vegetables

The colour green
Is a beauty that must be seen!
From a moving vehicles screen

And while we hold onto those machines
That deprives us of the colour green
Remember they provide us vaccines
As well as help the air to be clean

So for green, green and green
I will travel continents across and in-between
And also to any place that I have never been
I will make it routine
Just to see green, green and green

poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Trees and Plants

Plants and trees
So green so green
The kitchen is the leaf
And the root is the chief

They give us flowers to decorate
And also to celebrate
They give us paper from their wood
And they are found in the woods

With their help we can make whatever we want
From a rubberband to a pant
We don't need to pay tax or fees
To borrow from our lovely trees

They protect us from diseases
That would make us ill
All the carbondioxide
They always take in

Some people cut trees
For things like table and chair
Not knowing what pollution
They are doing to the air

Forests are turning from green to brown
Animals' faces are always with a frown
So let's make this place from brown to green
By planting more saplings and trees

poem by Deepika Ganesh
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Green Green Grass Of Home

The old home town looks the same as I step off the train
Meeting every train in my mind's eye till the man in mail came
Hair like gold, lips like cherry
It's good to touch the green, green grass of home
Green, green grass of home, green green grass of home.
Only dream I know of is to be found hair like gold, lips like a cherry
It's good to touch the green, green grass of home
They'll all come to greet me, on the steps of my sweet dream
It's good I dreamt the green, green grass of home
I wait and look around me at the broken walls that surround me
And out here I was on the ground.
There's a garden in the path of progress unharmed through winter's day break
Then I'll touch the green, green grass of home
They'll all come to greet me from the chains of the old dark hollow
The green, green grass of home
They'll all come to greet me on the steps, my sweet dream

song performed by by Grateful Dead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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How Leave This Earth

The darkness swollen all over world the bird's noise stop the world gone to elder
Stopping trees movement some time heard dropping water somewhere like murmur
Before sun set in the world mild darkness spreading all land over
Suddenly mass light come too world suddenly off all though which of god power

Impression about earth improvement by showing whether who one could leave this
Nobody could leave this without tears between ever green woods or cascade with white foams
All of living people slumber in attraction dream all though which of never to be all time tale casts
Defeating destroyers in the world will make triumphs destiny turn for all prosperities

Starry sky time to time open torn evening darkness somebody feel which of longer than
Conceive thousand of calm thought when till morning dawn
One by one recognize them working stopping struggle with pure scripture singing hymn
Everybody turn to pleasure toughing lips for amnesty he will whence back to world stand sole again

Like a angel living all nation people making for every planet bid by noble delight person in the world
The noon darkness creative thousand of new thing every where cover like green blanket growth new weed

Ounce upon day looking for luster eyes among darkness although today only scripture deposited
Large fountain like natural cascade dropping from climax spreading world attraction couldn't believe own world

poem by Inguruwatta Pushpadewa
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Monroe Louisiana

On the green, green farm
In green, green Monroe Louisiana
So green, green
Wet-luscious green and alive
So green after the rain
So bright green and clean
Just passing through
On my way to tomorrow
But so green today and yesterday
It was on that stranger's green, green farm
And I didn't stay long
And I didn't expect someone
To fire that shotgun right next to me
The barrel pointed out the front door
Into that green, green world beyond.
There were hot springs
On the green, green farm
In green, green Monroe Louisiana
Back in 1973.

poem by M.L. Squier
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Vegetation

O never harm the dreaming world,
the world of green, the world of leaves,
but let its million palms unfold
the adoration of the trees.

It is a love in darkness wrought
obedient to the unseen sun,
longer than memory, a thought
deeper than the graves of time.

The turning spindles of the cells
weave a slow forest over space,
the dance of love, creation,
out of time moves not a leaf,
and out of summer, not a shade.

poem by Kathleen Jessie Raine
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Looking Back At The Greens

i too look back at those green things
from the point of view of my
green thumb
a vegetable garden without an aphid on a leaf
a row of roses, lush green leaves
and red blooms
some petals falling due to the
wind
a line of green mint trees along the path
leading to the highway
sounds of motors threatening what green there is
i come back and settle on this patch
of green meadows
and grass and gray shade
my own shadow cast
on the huge gabi leaf.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Essence of my Dreams

Losing myself in flight on an early summer's morning-
In flight, unaware of the direction-
Unaware of the time of day, I know that
I don't believe in heaven anymore-
In flight above deep blue mountains-
But not weary of the sun's rays attacking me-
Never touching the sun and
Never finding my rainbow,
A myriad of colors are painting the sky-
Though only inside the world of my imagination.
Losing myself in flight and wondering-
If I will ever find safety and peace of mind here in the sky,
Amongst the scattered clouds that surround me-
I could hide behind a cloud to escape reality-
Reality that has become none but a threat to my existence.
Within the figment of my imagination-
I have wings that carry me high above the mountains,
Above the treetops and the ocean turning green as
Its waves lap against the shore-
A multitude of colors are decorating the land below-
Trees are never green but violet in their hue and
That ocean- green but never blue as are the mountains-
In flight I am losing myself in so many different ways-
Separating myself from the world into which I was born-
My mind is creating visions of far away places and
Inside the fortress of my mind, God has given me wings to fly with,
Although I do not believe in heaven-
Within moments I find myself lying upon the ground-
The sky, cloud covered as rain begins to pour down upon me-
I am a lost, lone, and confused spirit-
Threatened by sounds of cars speeding up and down the road behind me-
And people shouting while thunder claps and lightening strikes.
Voices inside of mind are commanding me
To lift my wings and take flight once again-
However I am trapped, being unable to fly, my wings having been phantasmal-
Though inside my dreams I can swim the ocean, searching for safety and familiarity-
Perhaps I shall find myself an island amongst the sea-
But alas only in my dreams-
And perhaps the rain shall stop falling and a rainbow shall rise above the mountains-
Inside the world of my thoughts I shall paint the sky blue and cloudless,
Lift my wings and soar back into the sky and look down-
Down at this world where I have always wished to escape from-
Happiness shall be found within the world of my imagination-
Violet hued trees - their branches swaying in the wind
May someday give me shade as I close my eyes and dream,
Then I shall burst into song, in chorus with the voices inside my mind-
I have peace of mind now knowing I can be anyplace I can fathom-
Because I am a person who though never believed in heaven-
Strongly believes in the essence of my dreams…

poem by Claudia Krizay
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Young and Old

1 When all the world is young, lad,
2 And all the trees are green;
3 And every goose a swan, lad,
4 And every lass a queen;
5 Then hey for boot and horse, lad,
6 And round the world away!
7 Young blood must have its course, lad,
8 And every dog his day.

9 When all the world is old, lad,
10 And all the trees are brown;
11 And all the sport is stale, lad,
12 And all the wheels run down;
13 Creep home, and take your place there,
14 The spent and maimed among;
15 God grant you find one face there,
16 You loved when all was young.

poem by Charles Kingsley
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Naturally Green

My mother always enjoyed
Picnics on lushes green grass
With trees to show
How green Mother Nature keeps
Her house of plants
Without green
There may be no greed
But it is that of the apple
That keeps us whole
Without care,
Green turns to brown.
With love,
Green grows strong.
When green turns to yellow
We go slow
So never let green
Turn red with envy
Or life may go
In a direction
You did not choose

poem by Scot Warren
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Black Train Song (live)

(Recorded live at the spectrum, Philadelphia 1-5-1970)
People get ready there's a train coming
You don't need a ticket
Clime on board
woooooooooo !!!
Train arrive
Sixteen cortege long
Train arrive
Sixteen cortege long
Will there be no train
Took my baby, it's gone
Train, train
Comin' round the bend
Train, train
Comin' round the bend
Yeah, there will be no evil train
Took my one and only friend
Train, train
Comin' down the line
Train, train
Comin' down the line
Well there will be no rock train
Took me on and a friend of mine
Train, train
Comin' down the track
Train, train
Comin' down the track
Yeah it took my baby
And it never bring her back
Alright
Away, away, away of India
Away of India
Away, away, away, away of India
Away of India
That's right
Away, away, away of India
Away, away, away of India
That's right, that's right
Away, away, away of India
That's right
Well, i woke up this morning got the crossroad on my mind
Well, i woke up this morning got the crossroad on my mind
Take a walk with me everything will work out fine
Well, i woke up this morning got the joit train on my mind
Well, i woke up this morning got the joit train on my mind
Take a walk with me everything will work out fine
Well, i woke up this morning got the eight miles on my mind
Well, i woke up this morning got the eight miles on my mind
Tale a walk with me everything, everything will work out fine
Well i woke up this morning got the crossroad on my mind
Well i woke up this morning got the crossroad on my mind
Take a walk with me
Everything
Everything
Everything
Everything gonna work out fine
wooooooooo
Train, train
Comin' down
Took my baby
Tokk my baby
Took my love
Away
Well i woke up this morning got nothin' on my mind

song performed by by Doors
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Old, Old Song

When all the world is young, lad,
And all the trees are green;
And every goose a swan, lad,
And every lass a queen—
Then hey for boot and horse lad,
And round the world away;
Young blood must have its course, lad,
And every dog his day.

When all the world is old, lad,
And all the trees are brown;
And all the sport is stale, lad,
And all the wheels run down—
Creep home, and take your place there,
The spent and manned among;
God grant you find one face there
You loved when all was young.

poem by Charles Kingsley from The Water Babies, Chapter 2 (1863)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Whispers of trees

Trees whisper of the coming winter
Leaves mutter among themselves

Seasons silently steal upon us…
As Falling streams from rocky shelves

Soft sibilant sighs, indistinct…incoherent
Nature’s voices, spoken through the dells

It’s the trees whisper… of the coming winter
The voices of Trolls, faeries and elves

Branches freeing…captive leaves fleeing
Limbs bleakly waving…in poignant farewell

Listen closely! …to the trees soft whisper
Of places of mystery…where legends dwell

Trees whisper the coming winter
Voices elusive…secretive as well

Hear the murmur of the wooded heart…
muted tumble of an acorn shell

Trees whisper…coming winter…
Tales that only trees can tell

poem by David Whalen
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Eco-logical

'Trees need their alone time too' I read it just now
in a poem by Bob Hicok and just like that
the world expanded thoughtfully and gloriously
and I imagined the whole of nature
giving a great sigh of relief
like a dog does when it lies down for the night
and a great sigh goes from the tips of its paws
to its ears or of course it might be the other way around
and trees with that sigh get on with their nightly cleansing routine
and expel all the stuff that mankind has made them put up with
in the world that we 'share' ha ha
and then think about the poor trees in the park and the streets
who've been passive smokers all day not to mention
gas-guzzlers without the accompanying four wheels
to enable them to getoutahere into the countryside for the weekend
to **** that up too yes I'm sorry trees although I must say
you do a good job of it and with silent patience
and don't write complaining to the newpapers in a mass protest
which is just as well as those papers need more trees
so I was just almost feeling complacent that Nature
seems to be well just about keeping the whole thing
on the rails until I looked up at the tops of the tallest trees
and saw the tops dying off
and wanted right then to know if prayer would help
because what else will

and thank you Bob and I guess poetry too
for half a line that brought me to the world
and a laugh then tears.

poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Aching Eyes And Neck Pains

aching eyes and
back and neck pains, they do not really matter
once i face this monitor

i assume i have many things to say
after a day's work. I TAKE pride about the
matters unsaid. I take note of the words
kept hidden inside my hair.They want
to jump and assume the shape of some
fleas.BITERS. bitter biters, for they were made
to be silent as we keep on doing
our own bread and butter thing

my eyes are aching. I feel the pain on my neck.
there is this burden, and this burden is the burden
of a writer, a poet, and it keeps on saying

write me, write me now: about a girl whose
father betrayed her, about a man whose fortune
is stolen in the blink of an eye

he died.she was thrown in the river
and the fish ate her in tiny pieces.

there is this little boy who imitated my actions
and he was laughing and i was laughing too,

i never thought that my hands are as clumsy as his
or his words too disappointing

the world is telling me: it is enough
too much of you is already suffocating

it is telling me that i must quit
but how can i? there is this little boy that keeps
on taunting me

to play again along the sands of the shore
and make my new sandcastles

it is not too dark yet, and he says it is still time
there is still time to play....

i get out of the car. It is raining. I look at the sky.
Drink some rain. I get wet.

It is not enough. It is never enough. There is still this little boy
in me. His eyes are always in wonder.

and so the poems keep on coming.
I close the car. I look at the trees.

How green are these trees! Greener than green.
How blue are the clouds! Bluer than blue.

And i really like all that i see.

This little child in me. Giggling.