Morning Fresh (From,134 Picture Poems)
morning fresh
before clouds
and sunshine
passing river
walking through
the quiet vision around
from hills beyond
swale grass
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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Magic Lies In Silence Of Grass and In Your Voice
I am barefoot walking in the grass of morning,
The dew drops are comforting my feet,
I felt relieved by my stress and grief,
When i heard your voice in the grass rustling.
I lie down on grass and i could feel its silence,
I close my eyes and i enjoyed your voice,
The smell of grass was taken on the wings of wind,
Magic lies in silence of grass and in your voice.
Is amazing how much miracle stays in a blade of grass,
Opening my eyes i saw above the sky,
There was your face among the clouds smiling,
I had the feeling that i want to hug the sky.
I'm gonna miss you all the days of life,
And even when death will take my last breath,
Last thing i'll do passing to eternity,
I'm gonna miss you.
Winter will come, grass will fall asleep,
I 'll not hear the grass rustling anymore,
Only my memories with you will be always alive,
Rustling in my mind as grass did.
poem by Cristina Teodor
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The Morning Sunshine
Wait til the morning sunshine
Wait til the morning sunshine
Feels like another day, I wouldnt know
My loves away, from home today
Wait til the morning sunshine
Wait til the morning sunshine
Its just the memory, of sunshine
In the morning, being close to me
And it was.....
Wait til the morning sunshine
Wait til the morning sunshine
Seems like the world is late, for I cant wait
For sunshine in the morning
Wait til the morning sunshine
Wait til the morning sunshine
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Walking
Walking on a cold frosty morn
Gloves and scarf on me adorn.
Walking in the crisp fresh snow
Making my nose all aglow.
Walking up in the hills
Waterproofs on, to keep out the chills.
Walking down in the dales
Up in the sky see all the contrails.
Walking down along the field
Looking at what it has to yield.
Walking in the summer sun
When the day is nearly done.
Walking down the stony lane
Writing keeps me quite sane.
Walking shoes, boots and feet
All traipsing down the street.
Walking along full of emotion
Scribbling with a vague notion.
Walking in the evening shade
Watching daylight start to fade.
poem by Hazel Connelly
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Let Us Give Freedom - a lyric
Dream dream away
But never give up your dreams
There shall come a sunshine day
With fresh river streams
Any hope is my hope
And any joy is mine
Hold on to your freedom rope
Let in all the sunshine
All justice is to give
To make equality
And in peace therefore live
To learn and be
Summer is not a thought
But a fresh new spring
‘Freedom come’ is taught
Together we now sing:
Let us give freedom
For everyone that's in need
Not just for some
That so have plead
But for all mankind
In these days for all
Let us together it find
In our need and call
Dream dream away
But never give up your dreams
There shall come a sunshine day
With fresh river streams
Any hope is my hope
And any joy is mine
Hold on to your freedom rope
Let in all the sunshine
poem by Peter S. Quinn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Let Us Give Freedom
Dream dream away
But never give up your dreams
There shall come a sunshine day
With fresh river streams
Any hope is my hope
And any joy is mine
Hold on to your freedom rope
Let in all the sunshine
All justice is to give
To make equality
And in peace therefore live
To learn and be
Summer is not a thought
But a fresh new spring
‘Freedom come’ is taught
Together we now sing:
Let us give freedom
For everyone that's in need
Not just for some
That so have plead
But for all mankind
In these days for all
Let us together it find
In our need and call
Dream dream away
But never give up your dreams
There shall come a sunshine day
With fresh river streams
Any hope is my hope
And any joy is mine
Hold on to your freedom rope
Let in all the sunshine
poem by Peter S. Quinn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Catfish John (studio Outtake)
Mama said, "Don't go near that river,
Don't be hanging around old Catfish John."
Come in the morning I'd always be there,
Walking in his footsteps in the sweet Delta dawn.
Take me back to another morning, to a time so long ago,
When the sweet magnolia blossomed, cotton fields as white as snow.
Catfish John was a river hobo who lived and died by the river's bed,
Looking back I still remember I was proud to be his friend.
Mama said, "Don't go near that river,
Don't be hanging around old Catfish John."
Come in the morning I'd always be there,
Walking in his footsteps in the sweet Delta dawn.
Born a slave in the town of Vicksburg, traded for a chestnut mare,
Lord her never spoke in anger though his load was hard to bear.
Mama said, "Don't go near that river,
Come in the morning I'd always be there,
Walking in his footsteps in the sweet Delta dawn.
Walking in his footsteps in the sweet Delta dawn
song performed by by Grateful Dead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Dreamed Of Forest Alleys fair
I.
I DREAMED of forest alleys fair
And fields of gray-flowered grass,
Where by the yellow summer moon
My Jenny seemed to pass.
I dreamed the yellow summer moon,
Behind a cedar wood,
Lay white on fields of rippling grass
Where I and Jenny stood.
I dreamed - but fallen through my dream,
In a rainy land I lie
Where wan wet morning crowns the hills
Of grim reality.
II.
I am as one that keeps awake
All night in the month of June,
That lies awake in bed to watch
The trees and great white moon.
For memories of love are more
Than the white moon there above,
And dearer than quiet moonshine
Are the thoughts of her I love.
III.
Last night I lingered long without
My last of loves to see.
Alas! the moon-white window-panes
Stared blindly back on me.
To-day I hold her very hand,
Her very waist embrace -
Like clouds across a pool, I read
Her thoughts upon her face.
And yet, as now, through her clear eyes
I seek the inner shrine -
I stoop to read her virgin heart
In doubt if it be mine -
O looking long and fondly thus,
What vision should I see?
No vision, but my own white face
That grins and mimics me.
IV.
Once more upon the same old seat
In the same sunshiny weather,
The elm-trees' shadows at their feet
And foliage move together.
The shadows shift upon the grass,
The dial point creeps on;
The clear sun shines, the loiterers pass,
As then they passed and shone.
But now deep sleep is on my heart,
Deep sleep and perfect rest.
Hope's flutterings now disturb no more
The quiet of my breast.
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
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There's Sunshine
There's Sunshine in the sea
It's looking at me
There's Sunshine in the car
As we travell far
The Sunshine looks at me
There's Sunshine in the garden
And it's like it say's pardon
There's Sunshine in the house
Its a quiet as a mouse
The Sunshine looks at me
The Sunshine everywhere
Even in your hair
And it's all thanks to God
Without snapping a rod
The Sunshine loves me
poem by Hannah Law
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Walking On Sunshine
I used to think maybe you loved me
Now, baby, Im sure
And I just cant wait til the day
When you knock on my door
Now every time I go to the mailbox
I gotta hold myself down
cause I just cant wait til you write me
Youre coming to town
Chorus:
Im walking on sunshine, woh, oh
Im walking on sunshine, woh, oh
Im walking on sunshine, woh, oh
And its time to feel good
Its time to feel good
I used to think maybe you loved me
Now I know that its true
But I dont want to spend my whole life
Just a waiting for you
Now I dont want you back for the weekend
Or just for a day, no, no
Baby I just want you back
And I want you to stay
Repeat chorus
Walking, Im walking on sunshine
Im walking on sunshine, woh, oh
Im walking on sunshine, woh, oh
Im walking on sunshine, woh, oh
And its time to feel good
Its time to feel good, now
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Evening Prayer
Wind stirs in expectation; it
softly strokes my face.
The March sun reassures me,
warms pale flesh
through layers of thick sweater
and winter coat.
Under indigo hills
new grass flows,
yellow and green,
as past distant ranges,
to the sky-bright, rounded sea
he flees and sends
a gift of clouds,
aflame
in glory.
Peace to the grass of the fields!
Peace
to dark hills and drifting clouds,
and to the sacrificial sun
peace!
poem by Steven Federle
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A Sigh
Evening sunshine never
Solace to my window bears,
Morning sunshine elsewhere fares;-
Here are shadows ever.
Sunshine freely falling,
Wilt thou not my chamber find?
Here some rays would reach a mind,
'Mid the dark appalling.
Morning sunshine's gladness,
Oh, thou art my childhood bright;
While
thou
playest pure and white,
I
would weep in sadness.
Evening sunshine's whiling,
Oh, thou art the wise man's rest;-
Farther on! Then from the west
Greet my window smiling!
Morning sunshine's singing,
Oh, thou art the fantasy
That the sun-glad world lifts free,
Past my powers' winging.
Evening sunshine's quiet,
Thou art more than wisdom's rest,
Christian faith glows in thee blest:
Calm my soul's wild riot!
poem by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
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Goodnight Till The Morning Sun
Walking
Walking upon white sands
Imprisoned by thoughts and narrow walls
That holds no comfort within right now
Walking
Walking beneath the sun
Yes warm
But feel embraced by the coldness
As hands touch loneliness
Down on hands and knees I go
To touch the warmth once more
But through clouds of smoke
I search for you
And the sun
Oh hear my voice upon the ocean
Within your dreams
Till the morning sun appears
And as sunshine warm your face
Open your eyes in joy
And know my thoughts are with you
But for now I am walking
Walking upon white sands
Imprisoned by narrow walls
And thoughts
That holds no comfort
But as I walk beneath the sun
Upon white sands within a dream
My heart belongs… to you
As I say goodnight
Till the morning sun.
poem by Robert Sheridan
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Waking On A New Morning
thanks GOD..ı have reached a new..fresh morning
that means...ı am on the world..alive
thanks GOD..ı have reached a new..fresh morning
ı am still dreaming..fancying and in dreams
the harnessed cart on road
the anchored ship at hArbour
all my kins...all my relatives gather together..come together
LOOK.. it is so new..a fresh morning
house on house is weary of the world
the mountains are in their joyous moments
vapour in the glittering eyes
the dead and alive together are walking on the steets
the market is in its motion all day
the false and unnecessary haste wearies everyone
on the world
human beings against it are walking on it shaking
the things you and we know
are the things we call thoughts
we are the water-wheel horses
turning and turning
with blinkers on our eyes
and the fate looking at us in its joyous mood
thanks GOD..ı have reached a new..a fresh morning
that means ı am on the world..living
thanks GOD..ı have reached a new: : , ; . a fresh morning
that means I am also in a dream..dreaming again
Osman ATILLA..Translation Metin Ş AHİ N
poem by Metin Sahin
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MeRiverries
I gazed under the sun,
Walked on the grass,
Feeling the air passing through my hair,
And feeling the cold warm water on my feet.
I see friends playing happily,
On the river, jumping, diving, enjoying,
Then walking on the slippery stones trying to enjoy myself,
By sitting on a rock under the sun taking pictures of friends.
MeRiverries, MeRiverries,
River Memories,
Where it's the first time seeing us all together,
Enjoying, the cold warm waters of the river.
poem by Mitch Señoron
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Lovers Meeting Beside A River
two lovers meet beside a river
they are on to something prohibited
but they cannot be stopped by your beliefs
dogmas and laws do not work for their love
so strong
so uninhibited
the feelings that gush like a river
flowing
naked they touch their bodies
their hands exploring all the possibilities
of love
they kiss, they make love
they lay their bodies on the grass
rolling, one on top of the other,
tight, and warm
sweat and salivations
until the apex is reached
the climax of love
the ecstasy
the fulfillment and then
the much needed rest
the other one sleeps
and dreams
the other one smokes
blows a breath
to the sky
makes circles
and plays with the
images of the clouds
at night
when the moon shines
so bright
and the star glitter
no one knows about this
except the river and the trees
the trees sing
the river flows
and then the sun shines
the morning after
the two shadows are gone
leaving some traces
on the grass
dried sweat
disturbed grass
some maps
without names
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Good Old Powlett River
The good old Powlett river so very old in time
Has been sketched by famous artists and has inspired the bards to rhyme
From the hills above Kilcunda it flows downland to the sea
Centuries before the first Australians came down to the South Country,
The good old Powlett river will flow down forever more
From the hills above Kilcunda to the great Pacific shore
By the sandhills near saltwater where the surf waves one can hear
The good old Powlett river to my heart is ever dear,
Out of the sunshine by powlett river in the shadows of the trees
Centuries ago the first Australians danced their corroborees
The people like Nature's Seasons to life they come and go
But the good old Powlett river forever it will flow
From the hills above Kilcunda babbling on down to the sea
It will babble on forever century on century.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Misty River
This morning
Me in this Misty River
All the happiness
I am feeling inside myself
Misty River
The mist is coming
From this Misty River
There are clouds
In the sky
And the mist
Is caused by the condensation
Of the heat mixed in the cold water
Misty River
I am in a fishing boat
That boat is moving slowly in this
Misty river
It is early in the morning
I am eating my breakfast in the fishing boat in the middle of this
Misty River
I hear the birds singing early in the morning
In this Misty River
There must be trees because the sound of the birds is coming from the Branches
Misty River
So peaceful
It looks so different with the mist
No one is around but me
With my fishing boat
And the beautiful sound of the birds
It is so nice
To have a place to come to
Where I can
Hear the sound of the birds
And be left alone
With no one disturbing me
Misty River
This is my special place
And by afternoon
No clouds I will see
The birds are beautiful
Their song is just beautiful like mother nature intended it to be
If nobody else appreciates this Misty River
I do
Misty River
I will die for you
Misty River
I will shed my tears for you
I have been coming here for so long now
Misty River
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Juliana....
on early morning
she walks down the river
leaving all her
coverings on the grass
she wades in the water
naked
as the bamboo trees
bend with the wind
paying homage to her
raw beauty
she plunges into the
cool waters of the river
and the river
takes joy of her body
then she rises
as water drips on her breasts
giving way to her
nipples
as the water cascades down
her abdomen
to her legs
Juliana, the mountain beauty
once i have seen her
under the moon amidst
the trees in the forest
and the virgin hills.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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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Beyond The Distant Hills
The sun is shining for me,
beyond the distant hills.
Where my love is waiting,
for my return.
The water is sweet to drink,
beyond the distant hills,
where a warm fire is waiting,
for my return.
The grass bends in the breeze,
beyond the distant hills.
Where my love’s heart yearns
for my return.
A candle lights a window,
beyond the distant hills.
Where someone keeps a watchful eye,
for my return.
Beyond the distant hills,
where no clouds gather,
and no storms darken the sky.
Beyond the distant hills,
bright eyes wait for my return.
Beyond the distant hills,
my dreams will come true,
and I promised myself one day I will get there.
25 April 1988
poem by David Harris
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