Riches Of The Forest
Streams of liquid gold
Quench the thirst of silver trees
And feed, emerald leaves
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Silver And Gold
Silver, silver and gold
Silver and gold, silver and gold
Ev'ryone wishes for silver and gold
How do you measure its worth?
Just by the pleasure it gives here on earth.
Silver and gold, silver and gold
Mean so much more when I see
Silver and gold decorations
On ev'ry Christmas tree.
Silver, silver and gold
Silver, silver and gold
Silver and gold
Silver and gold
Silver and gold
Wise men brought gifts to the mange I'm told
Mary was humble to see
Shepherds and kings there on bended knees
It's silver and gold, silver and gold
Feeling the world with their lives
Silver and gold how they shimmer on ev'ry Christmas night
On ev'ry Christmas night
Silver, silver and gold
song performed by by Vanessa Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Silver & Gold
Words and Music by Johnny Marks.
Silver, silver and gold
Silver and gold, silver and gold
Ev'ryone wishes for silver and gold
How do you measure its worth?
Just by the pleasure it gives here on earth.
Silver and gold, silver and gold
Mean so much more when I see
Silver and gold decorations
On ev'ry Christmas tree.
Silver, silver and gold
Silver, silver and gold
Silver and gold
Silver and gold
Silver and gold
Wise men brought gifts to the mange I'm told
Mary was humble to see
Shepherds and kings there on bended knees
It's silver and gold, silver and gold
Feeling the world with their lives
Silver and gold how they shimmer on ev'ry Christmas night
On ev'ry Christmas night
Silver, silver and gold
song performed by by Vanessa Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Clouds
Clouds, the clouds diffuse a sad and somewhat somber hue;
Rain, the rain descends aslant from angry ashen skies;
Winds, the winds bemoan their loss of reins and calm control;
Shades, the shades appear suffused, alone in lurid haze;
Trees, the trees enshroud the eyes of misty brooding woods;
Leaves, the leaves desert their branches, falling one by one;
Birds, the birds intone a tune, a mourning monody;
Grass, the grass surrenders blades, impaled in truant winds;
Fields, the fields imbibe and quaff to quench an arid thirst;
Stones, the stones repulse the pearls, exploding tears of gloom;
Streams, the streams meander, hushed, to distant vapid shores;
Clouds, the clouds diffuse a sad and somewhat somber hue
poem by Terry O'Leary
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Dewdrops
The dewdrops on every blade of grass are so much like silver drops
that I am obliged to stoop down as I walk to see if they are pearls,
and those sprinkled on the ivy-woven beds of primroses underneath the
hazels, whitethorns and maples are so like gold beads that I stooped
down to feel if they were hard, but they melted from my finger. And
where the dew lies on the primrose, the violet and whitethorn leaves
they are emerald and beryl, yet nothing more than the dews of the
morning on the budding leaves; nay, the road grasses are covered with
gold and silver beads, and the further we go the brighter they seem to
shine, like solid gold and silver. It is nothing more than the sun's
light and shade upon them in the dewy morning; every thorn-point and
every bramble-spear has its trembling ornament: till the wind gets
a little brisker, and then all is shaken off, and all the shining
jewelry passes away into a common spring morning full of budding
leaves, primroses, violets, vernal speedwell, bluebell and orchis, and
commonplace objects.
poem by John Clare
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Emerald City Sequence
(quincy jones/charlie smalls)
Emerald city green:
I want to be seen green
Wouldnt be caught dead, red
cause if you are seen green
It means you got mean bread
Youve got to be seen green
To show that youre stuffs layed
If youre not seen green
You better be wearing jade
Oh, youve got to be seen green
Dont tell them your cupboards bare
That you gave up one weeks feed
To pay for your colored hair
Oh, oh, oh
An announcement from the great powerful oz:
I thought it over and green is dead
till I change my mind, the color is red
Emerald city red:
I wouldnt be seen green
Ooo! oo! oo! ah! ah!
I wouldnt be caught dead
And if Im caught at all
Then catch me in dead, red
Ooo!
Youve got to be dead red
Youve got to be real hot
So throw away those green gems
And wear rubies on your yacht
Youve got to be dead, red
Youve got to have flash and flair
And if youre not seen red
Then you shouldnt be seen nowhere
Ah!
How quickly fashion goes down the drain.
Last week when you all was wearin pink
Already for me red was old.
The ultimate brick is gold.
Thats the new color, children
Emerald city gold:
Golden gold
Golden gold
Golden gold
Golden gold
You got to be seen gold
Watch out for the new kind
You got to have old gold
Like some from a gold mine
You got to be wearin gold
The twenty four carat kind
And once youve shined it up
It should ought to make you blind, ah!
You got to be seen in gold
To show that youre super slick
It helps to pay tips and tolls
Its the ultimate yellow brick
Its the ultimate
Gold
Golden gold
Golden gold
Golden gold
Golden gold
Golden gold
Golden gold
Golden gold
Gold, gold, gold, gold
Gold!
song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Feeding Legions Poor
when if Jesus asks when
did I feed his legions poor
I shall promptly reply
I tried
to feed
their souls
warm their hearts
quench their thirst
hold their cold hands
I gave time money clothing food
I prayed for relief for their pains
yet still I sadly so sadly wondered
why you Jesus
feed
so few poor?
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Liquid Depression (3)
I'm no exception
I'm owned by the liquid depression
Most people don't know
When I played my part
I couldn't depart
Broken hearted
That's when I started
Down the wrong path
I headed and never dreaded
The liquid depression
That kept me sane in this game
I would drink Jack until
I couldn't remember my name
I know it may drive me insane
Before I'm through playing this game
The liquid depression is like a thirst quencher for my soul
You know the memories I have to control
Liquid depression is my only hope for peace within
I can't control the thirst in my soul or the sin
I know it's a game I just can't win
Remembering liquid depression while
Writing prose poems in free verse
Now give me a few minutes to rehearse
Before I come up with another verse
poem by Frankie Stamey
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Feed Me Love
Feed me love!
That's it.
All of those other promises,
To nourish my diet...
Has not left my appetite encouraged,
One bit!
Feed me some love as a main course.
Do not tease me with it as if it is dessert!
Whatever you say it will do for me,
I want that fed to me as an entrée first.
Feed me with it to quench my thirst.
Do not tease the love I hunger and deserve.
Feed me love!
That's it.
All of those other promises,
To nourish my diet...
Has not left my appetite encouraged,
One bit!
Feed me love,
And fill me up with it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Godly thirst....
there is this
thirst in me, not in the tongue
the mouth denies it
there is this thirst
that water or wine or
juice
cannot quench
it is a thirst that forever
stays
a dropp of rain
a dew from a leaf
a word from my Creator
shall satisfy it.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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From The Tuscan
WHEN in the west the red sun sank in glory,
The cypress trees stood up like gold, fine gold;
The mother told her little child the story
Of the gold trees the heavenly gardens hold.
In golden dreams the child sees golden rivers,
Gold trees, gold blossoms, golden boughs and leaves,
Without, the cypress in the night wind shivers,
Weeps with the rain and with the darkness grieves.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Blessed To Be Cursed
I awaken early,
With thoughts that seem...
Already out of date.
Already out of time.
Already...
I feel I am too late.
Bombarded I am,
With images that feed.
And some I feel,
I am not yet ready to taste.
Am I cursed or blessed?
At times I feel in between.
And aging hasn't made this attraction,
Any easier for me...
It seems.
Am I cursed or blessed?
OR blessed to be cursed?
Is it possible to enjoy something,
And not quench that thirst?
I awaken early,
With thoughts that seem...
Already out of date.
Already out of time.
Already...
I feel I am too late.
Bombarded I am,
With images that feed.
And some I feel,
I am not yet ready to taste...
Although I enjoy,
Achieving those impossible dreams.
Am I cursed or blessed?
OR blessed to be cursed?
Is it possible to enjoy something,
And not quench that thirst?
And I think to myself...
'What am I getting out of this?
How am I benefitting,
When I am the last to think of myself first! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Yellow Autumn
fluffy silver clouds
the melted sun kisses trees
honeydew-gold leaves
haiku by Marius Alexandru (June 2020)
Submitted by anonym
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Quite Happy
I was quite happy here,
I would go demented after nerves
Have split, like cells and molecules.
My life is like liquid gold,
The golden rules of high heaven
Make a sentence look dumb.
The icy wastes of society are looking
At me, for the sight of people is proud.
My happiness results in pain,
When people have gone demented.
Gold is about to turn into silver,
Silver must be a plate of parades.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Sestina #2
why
I don't care for the money
I don't care for nothing
because every feeling you had was no more that words
but they have been my food
and never filled me, you had nothing to quench my thirst
thirst
I'm tires of the repetion tell me why.
my body is dying I need food
I'm sorry I made a mistake, but I want no money
just countless words
that speakes to nothing
Nothing
my three days are up, I beg thee quench my thirst
I'm so pleased to say those words
my rhetorical question is: why?
I rather to live in the 30's than to have money
I rather live without food
fourth time I said food
Dear, it's nothing.
You shown me that before, I HATE IT, the money.
emotions are dry. and I thirst
...you moke me, why?
they are more than words
they are Words
an entity that my mind's eye use as food
something is new, again why?
i'm teary eyed. It's nothing
situation change, but I'll never dout my thirst.
You are wrong, my mind does not want money
money
it makes lame all your words
your eye is dim, you thirst.
the lines I writes can be your food
but you want nothing
I don't care. don't ask, why
I'm tired of the symobles for money, because they have no belly for food
esoteric words, impressing nothing.
And i still still thrist...why?
poem by Victoria Lee
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Silver Is Metal Used To Kill Demon Souls
gold gold is the fever metal
for the love of gold shining in their eyes
men resort to violent base morals
gold lust will turn men's
hearts to savage beasts
gold is not a beautiful metal
of salvation
curse of death men's
gold haunts
generations of men
silver silver is redemption metal
thirty pieces of silver payment
price for betrayal of prophet Christ
in blood of Christ
silver is granted power over evil
silver is metal
used to kill demon souls
silver not gold
is salvation metal
with power to slay evil
poem by Terence George Craddock
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The Palm Trees.
Toward the water,
Toward the sun,
Out one by one
Green hand. Palm trees,
What do you want?
Quickly told me.
The sun shining bright gold,
Rain glittering silver line,
I use gold and silver wire,
twisted brown silk, knit clothes.
poem by Albert Wong
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Beautiful Colours
Cornfields turned to mellow yellow
Skies shone a radiant azure blue
Leaves on the tree were emerald green
Heather was shining with purple hue.
The dove was cloaked in feathers white
Rose petals glowed crimson and cream
A lone star of gold lit up the night...
That night of my Silver Wedding dream.
poem by Joyce Hemsley
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Autumn Leaf Fall
Colourful leaves fall through the air,
Red, orange and yellow.
The ones on the ground start to rot,
Black, brown and purple.
Some get caught in the winter bared trees,
Gold, green and silver.
Leaves of the autumn,
The autumn rainbow,
These are the colours of the autumn leaf fall.
poem by Thistle Wargul
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Simplicity is Beauty
What is beauty?
If it is not real
When it cannot last
A day in memory
Cannot lit an ember
Or quench a thirst.
What is beauty
If it is real
When it can last
A lasting memory
Inflame an ember
And quench a thirst.
True beauty
Is in the eyes
Of the beholder
It strikes from within
No matter what
A simplicity is beauty!
poem by Marvin Brato Sr
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Olympics 2012
Flu Theory of Failure
In the Olympics year of twenty twelve
Flu took gold in Australia.
With gold on the chest of the flu,
Silver was the best we could do-
Thus Silver's Gold, not A Failure.
Boo Hoo Hoo
Peculiar to
Australia,
The sulphur-crested cockatoo.
Other white Australians,
The lot of them are aliens,
Silver is their hue,
Will be Sally's too.
With gold on the chest of the flu,
Silver's the best she can do-
Her silver is gold, not a failure.
Castaway
I learnt in the Laser Class race
What function at the coal face
You could possibly qualify for
By sailing an ironing board.
Say Tom Hanks had been able to do it:
he'd have been off the isle in a minute,
His wife wouldn't have gotten so bored,
And we'd've been spared an hour or four.
poem by Douglas Scotney
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