Related quotes: Now tell me what evening...

Now Tell Me

Now tell me
what evening romance
I must endure
to lust over this magnificent skyline
and euphoric vista
in the eye of the storm
there are grey clouds
haloed with glowing tints
luring the cluster of trees
and innocent brush of breeze
lull the mind
like a glass of red wine
stirring desire
to cry for more
I watch in awe
and crave this view will last
as long as the sky
wears new dresses everyday
matching the mood
in my being
I am doused in happiness
just to view
the rapture of the evening.

poem by Leonard Dabydeen
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The Poem Of The Evening Is A Quiet Poem

THE POEM OF THE EVENING IS A QUIET POEM

The poem of the evening is a quiet poem
It comes in gentleness with tired eyes
It does not know how long it will last
It believes a fresh breeze
And a simple song
Are all its needs
To feel happiness.

The poem of the evening this evening
Believes in life
Believes in Goodness of God
Believes it will somehow be alright.

The poem of the evening this evening
May be a foolish one
But it is a quietly happy one.

We need such poems sometimes
For life is hard in the long working days
And in the times of difficult idleness
When no dreams come.

Quiet and quiet
Soft as sleep
The poem of the evening this evening
Is a gentle one.

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Romance Bore Seduction

Hand blessed hand, caressed.
A blushing rose, her face;
Her breast alive;
The elfin nose, a diamond set -
A kiss upon perfection

Bore a rise of pulse
To coach a sultry moan
Across a mellow breath of wine.
He knew; he sensed,
And easing loose a clasp of lace,
Another sign of her relenting:
Wild the play of eyes,
A fuller glide of skin;

He felt the now begin -
Her swell, intention in the sigh.

And so to hedge his move upon the cue -
The cry of deep anticipation,
Waxing all he saw -
Tho' not for us to view -
Arrived, emotion raw.

Now render to caressing waves of romance

Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance
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Romance romance romance romance
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Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance

poem by Mark R Slaughter
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The Evening Breeze

Often, I lie solus,
On white sand-banks
Of the large pond
In my ancestral land,
When the evening breeze
Gently touches the divinity,
Hidden somewhere in mortal body:
I feel I cannot normally feel.

Oh! I wish the evening breeze,
Too heavenly and wondrous,
Brought out my grandmother
Sleeping just under,
With whom I used to enjoy the breeze,
On these sands white,
In green days, later became defoliate!
Indeed, it can if it willed.

The evening breeze brings
Smell of soap suds,
Which forms on mind-board
The damsel in the nude;
Soon, the breeze brings
Holiest odour
Of frankincense and incense smoulder:
So in the breeze I sin and purge.

Often, I lay tired on sands;
All sweat drops dried in the evening breeze;
All my spirit revived;
And fresh morrow waited.
Evening chants of diverse creeds:
All in breeze united.
Seraphic breeze pats on every head,
Still nobody sees it.

poem by Fabiyas M V
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This Evening

this evening is another lovely evening
i see stars. i think of some memories. sticky ones. sweet ones.
mouthwatering ones between us. in the room dim and cold. warmed by our
two bodies.kisses. hugs. touches. caresses. whispers.
indeed, this is a lovely evening.
i have a glass of mild wine in my hand. an orange. an apple. some spices
of mint and chili. to make me feel hot on this lovely, cold night. the wind blows
from the sea. i hear the waves. but they are sounding so gently
reminding of a boat where we ride. kisses. hugs. touches. caresses.
whispers. making love. the boat stopped in the middle of the ocean.
both of us.
indeed this is a lovely evening. i have another glass of wine. an orange.
some chili. some pepper.
i like it hot. these memories. i have your picture in my hand. your last letter.
i have the picture of you and your husband. and your children. they all have
grown up. your daughter looks just like you. some smiles. hugs. kisses.
embraces. your family on your last wedding anniversary. in maryland.

indeed this is a lovely evening. an honest one.
everything is accepted. everything is true. and i wish you all the happiness.
for indeed this is a lovely evening. with myself. still strong as ever.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A spring evening

Outside the irises flower yellow and purple
and I haven’t seen a red one yet
and there are some pink and white blossoms
on the fruit trees
and the streetlights burn continually
glowing orange-yellow
all day and all night
as if the municipality
does not know how to do things right
and in the fading evening light
the moon is full and white
and the evening star is already shining bright
and a hot breeze sweeps in
through the open windows
and I wonder when the first spring rain
is going to fall
and in the distance I see thunder
crashing down
in blue-white flashes, but the storm
is blown away and again the sky is clear
and the black speckled by stars.

poem by Gert Strydom
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Because There Is Really No One There At 11: 30 In The Evening

when sleep does not visit you
till 11: 30 in the evening
you take your time waiting for it
as you dabble in poetry

here is a friend that understands you
and listens to what you are talking
in that cautious silence of his metaphors

the evening becomes a romance of one soul
and one body all contented in the grace
and beauty of the gift of thoughts
and words

he toasts that imagined glass of wisdom
filled with that wine of air
and then the laughter that spreads
that no one hears

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sonnet 07

(to the rainbow)

Mild arch of promise! on the evening sky
Thou shinest fair with many a lovely ray
Each in the other melting. Much mine eye
Delights to linger on thee; for the day,
Changeful and many-weather'd, seem'd to smile
Flashing brief splendor thro' its clouds awhile,
That deepen'd dark anon and fell in rain:
But pleasant is it now to pause, and view
Thy various tints of frail and watery hue,
And think the storm shall not return again.
Such is the smile that Piety bestows
On the good man's pale cheek, when he in peace
Departing gently from a world of woes,
Anticipates the realm where sorrows cease.

poem by Robert Southey
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Evening Coconut

The statue of liberty is breathing in the air
Atlantis is waiting down below.
Late at night, flashing lights are sighted in the air.
Its no secret, what everybody knows.
It really dont matter much, which way I go.
But remember to pull over in the storm.
Have you seen the evening coconut
Bobbing on the bay?
Standing on the waters edge of stone
Someone there besides you
To hear the words you say
To show you things your eyes have never known.
Evening coconut, evening coconut
Evening coconut, evening coconut
Evening coconut, evening coconut
Evening coconut, evening coconut
Evening coconut, evening coconut
The statue of liberty is breathing in the air
While atlantis is waiting down below.
Late at night, flashing lights are sighted in the air.
Its no secret, what everybody knows.
Evening coconut, evening coconut
Evening coconut, evening coconut
Evening coconut, evening coconut
Evening coconut, evening coconut

song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Evening Star

the sky is a darker shade of blue
a spellbinding mood setting tone
that would inspire an artiste to his brush
to romance with a spanish evening

the moon displays her queenly presence
with a clear and eloquent beam
as if it has just climbed out of a bath
cleansed of all smudge

a solid crown of confidence
that imbibes into stage artistes
that self assurance is the sky of their career
how it could win heavenly admirers

and the evening stars, they twirl
like ballet dancers in their closets
devising the best means to get their
facets to sparkle like a hard to get gemstone

poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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In the evening of my life

In the evening of my life
I will not tire seeing the twinkling stars
I will remember some past lovers & friends

I will watch the beautiful moon sailing by
I will ponder upon its gold glowing in the sky
I will recollect some memories and
Treasure them again closer to my heart
I will not just watch people passing by
I wil be a humming bird who will fly

In the evening I will sit with you
By this window
I will hold your hand and feel it warm
I will not just be in the sidewalk waiting
I will still be your man still loving

In the evening of my life
I will take the blanket gently on my hip
And then take my soundest sleep.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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0372 Reflection on a garden pond

It's unexpectedly mild this early Spring evening
and I take my glass of beer, cold in the hand,
and slide the patio door open and step out for the first time this year,
feeling like an intruder in my own garden, so strange in the twilight.

Then, melted by awe and gratitude
to see an unplanned wild violet
which has taken up residence between the cement slabs.

Between other slabs the miniature bamboo stubbornly returns,
(that was my Japanese year) and in the tiny pond,
soon to be turned into a living soup by amorous frogs
to the total puzzlement of the white cat, watching for an hour or so
and extending from time to time an ineffective paw,
or nosing the water unable, either, to gulp a tadpole -
in the tiny pond, something bright;

a dancing reflection in the water stirred by an evening breeze -
the moon;
the same moon that danced on the water for Li Po
as he drank from his wine cup
alone and at peace, so far, so long ago;

in a poet's solitude and contentment
and the thought of distant friends,
celebrated with wine
under the moon, on a spring evening,
in perfect happiness.

poem by Michael Shepherd
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Sweet Evening Breeze

I was loud and a little sad
She was visiting from atlanta, georgia
She had come to spend the summer with her dad
I thought she was very pretty
We would kiss and hold hands
Every night by the football field
Her body was tan
From the afternoons by the public swimming pool
Chorus:
Sweet evening breeze
Blows around my thoughts and memories
As I lie here today
And drink my tea
I can still see
Sweet evening breeze
I saw her in a coffee shop
In a big hotel down in austin, texas
She had cut her long hair off
And replaced it with
Blue eyes of sadness
Still acted like we were kids
And she told me that she had to marry
And she asked me if I did
Still remember
Chorus:
Sweet evening breeze
Blows around my thoughts and memories
As I lie here today
And drink my tea
I can still see
Sweet evening breeze
How redundant the future can be
These days of old are very, very
Ridiculous for me to see
When I think about the real gone stories
And how time holds the winning hand
I can tell by the lines on our faces
And the young cant understand
That they look at me
When they look at themselves
Chorus:
Oh, sweet evening breeze
Blows around my thoughts and memories
As I lie here today
And drink my tea
I can still see
Sweet evening breeze

song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nightfall for M'Lady Ernestine

The evening sky in shades of grey.
Light grey, dark, grey, all tinged with gold
Denotes the ending of the day.
I watch entranced as I behold
the darkness falling gradually.
The blue transmutes to indigo,
the last remnants of day light flee.
Reluctantly but they must go.
The stars come slowly into view.
The constellations wheel and turn,
forever old, forever new
and catch your eye each in their turn.
If I but wait the moon will rise.
Each night provides some new surprise.

18-Jul-08
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Storm Clouds

I sat at the window
near the edge of sunset
watched the storm clouds roll by.
I wondered what would happen
during the evening tide
with those storm clouds.
Will they bring forth wind and rain?
Will the raindrops dance
and tap at my windowpane.
However, those storms clouds
just kept on rolling by.
With a sigh of relief,
I could see there
will be no storm tonight.

poem by David Harris
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Greatest View

You're the analyst
The fungus in my milk
When you want no one
And you got someone
Through the wind
You crawl
And laugh at burning dunes
When no one else will
Ever see

Now that you know why you feel like you do
They're turning their head whilst they wait
For no one
And finally I know why you feel like letting go

I'm watching you watch
Over me and I've got
The greatest view from here
I'm watching you watch
Over me and I've got
The greatest view from here

Mistakes don't mean a thing
If you don't regret them
So pack your tactic toes for the winter
Chain a waterfall to burned and withered skin
No-one else will ever see

I'm watching you watch
Over me and I've got
The greatest view from here
I'm watching you watch
Over me and I've got
The greatest view from here

Now that you know why you feel like you do
They're turning their head whilst they wait
For no one
And finally I know why I feel like you're letting go

I'm watching you watch
Over me and I've got
The greatest view from here
I'm watching you watch
Over me and I've got
The greatest view from here
The greatest view from here
The greatest view

song performed by by Silverchair from Diorama
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Song

THE LIGHT of spring
On the emerald earth,
A man, a maid,
And a mood of mirth,
A foolish jest,
That a smile amends -
It took no more
To make us friends.

An evening breeze,
The year in bloom,
Lips quickly met
In the garden's gloom;
The trees about us,
The stars above -
It took no more
To teach us love.

Frost in the air -
The air like wine -
Go you your way,
And I'll go mine.
Lightly we part
Who lightly met -
What more is needed,
When both forget?

poem by Alice Duer Miller
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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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Ooh

For jamie and the boys, ready?
One, two.
Ooh, central park,
Ooh, evening skyline,
Ooh, helicopter,
Ooh, firecrackers,
Ooh, july 4th in new york city
Ooh, trees are laughing,
Ooh, windows smiling,
Ooh, water shining,
Ooh, people rolling,
Ooh, july 4th in new york city
I never knew we could be so nice to each other,
I never thought wed be laughing together,
I never knew life could be so sweet and simple,
I never thought that was possible.
Ooh, papers flying,
Ooh, dogs are chasing,
Ooh, clouds are dreaming,
Ooh, people dancing,
Ooh, july 4th in new york city.
I never knew we could be so kind to each other,
I never thought wed be singing together,
I never knew life could be so sweet and simple,
I never thought that was possible.
Ooh, central park,
Ooh, evening skyline,
Ooh, helicopter,
Ooh, firecrackers.
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh,
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh,
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh,
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh.

song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ooh

song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Flying Squirrels

On the rugged water shed
At the top of the bridle track
Where years ago, as the old men say,
The splitters went with a bullock dray
But never a dray came back.

At the time of the gum tree bloom,
When the scent in the air is strong,
And the blossom stirs in the evening breeze,
You may see the squirrels among the trees,
Playing the whole night long.

Never a care at all
Bothers their simple brains;
You can see them glide in the moonlight dim
From tree to tree and from limb to limb,
Little grey aeroplanes.

Each like a dormouse sleeps
In the spout of a gum tree old,
A ball of fur with a silver coat;
Each with his tail around his throat
For fear of his catching cold.

These are the things he eats,
Asking his friends to dine:
Moths and beetles and newborn shoots,
Honey and snacks of the native fruits,
And a glass of dew for wine.

poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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En.Citatepedia®.ro

Now Tell Me

Related quotes

The Poem Of The Evening Is A Quiet Poem

Romance Bore Seduction

The Evening Breeze

This Evening

A spring evening

Because There Is Really No One There At 11: 30 In The Evening

Sonnet 07

Evening Coconut

Evening Star

In the evening of my life

0372 Reflection on a garden pond

Sweet Evening Breeze

Nightfall for M'Lady Ernestine

Storm Clouds

Greatest View

Song

Summer Is Here

Ooh

Ooh

Flying Squirrels

En.Citatepedia^®.ro