Tempestuous
Snow is drifting
Shadows are lifting
Winds a howl
Chimney cowled
Crackling fires blaze
Shivering skin fades
Snuggle beneath sheets
Desiring quick relief.
Tempered soul wisks away gusts
Flurries leave without a fuss
Powered pink, blue streaks
Lustering high above me.
Splendid sunset opens up skies
Rendering me green-eyed.
Pine trees bowing idly
Thankful your gone finally!
poem by Elizabeth Fontaine Grieco
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Related quotes
Orchards
Orchards in the Spring-time! Oh, I think and think of them,—
Filmy mists of pink and white above the fresh, young green,
Lifting and drifting,—how my eyes could drink of them,
I'm staring at a dirty wall beyond a big machine.
Orchards in the Spring-time! Deep in soft, cool shadows,—
Moving all together when the west wind blows
Fragrance upon fragrance over road and meadows—
I'm smelling heat and oil and sweat, and thick, black clothes.
Orchards in the Spring-time! The clean white and pink of them
Lifting and drifting with all the winds that blow.
Orchards in the Spring-time! Thank God I still can think of them!
You're not docked for thinking, — if the foreman doesn't know.
poem by Theodosia Garrison
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The Pine
The elm lets fall its leaves before the frost,
The very oak grows shivering and sere,
The trees are barren when the summer's lost:
But one tree keeps its goodness all the year.
Green pine, unchanging as the days go by,
Thou art thyself beneath whatever sky:
My shelter from all winds, my own strong pine,
'Tis spring, 'tis summer, still, while thou art mine.
poem by Augusta Davies Webster
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Butterfly Friend
Tiny gift - wrap bow
Lifting
Drifting
Lifting
Sky- high
Meadow-low
Sky-high
Lifting
Drifting
Lifting
Lifting me
Over the hedgerow
Over the rainbow
Over tomorrow
poem by Kate Williams
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High Powered Love
(tony joe white)
Ive been running low on inspiration
Tired of the physical intrigue
Theres nothing left to imagination
Living in a world that treats love so carelessly
Dont want no smooth talkin lover
I cant play the role
It just leaves me cold
I need a high powered love
I wanna feel that lightning streak
High powered love
Got to be down in the heart with me
Sometimes its hard to keep believing
Too many pretty faces all skin deep
Now is there anyone left with teeth just a little uneven
And wont spend more time a mirror than he does with me
If youre looking for a good time
A notch on your gun
I aint the one
I want a high powered love
Got to have intensity
High powered love
Dont start the fire if you cant take the heat
I cant turn back Im on a mission
I know theres someone out there for me
I need a high powered love
One thatll defy gravity
High powered love
Got to be strong and keep on lifting me
Yeah I need a high powered love
I wanna feel the lightning streak
High powered love
Got to be down in the heart with me
Got to be down in the heart with me
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Knotty Pine
Shes my knotty pine
She leans with the wind
She cries turpentine
Sometimes she nettles me
But I dont mind
Only now and then
When her branches lean beneath the snow
Shes knotty but nice
Reaching for the sky
She dont like snow n ice
To leave things as they stand
Is my advice
Shes been good to me
So I tend to go there when I can
Shes my knotty pine
Such a pretty scene
She tries to be kind
She gives birds a home
And shelters them
In her coat of green
Shes as green as evergreen can be
Shes a real delight
When little breezes call
To ruffle up her skin
All her sap runs free
And sticks to me
Hidden deep within
I will be her slave eternally
Shes my knotty pine
She leans with the wind
She crys turpentine
Sometimes she nettles me
But I dont mind
Only now and then
When her branches lean beneath the snow
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pink
A blush of pink:
She'd caught a roving eye -
He gave a wink.
Her smile had played a shy
And quaint florescence;
The siren of pubescence
Drew him in.
She bade him touch her hair,
Suggesting that he dare
To kiss her pulsing lips!
E'er the fool a man, he did:
The drips of blood began to cheer -
And so, another rid:
Tips of fangs are sharp, you know -
Dancing ivory feeds her soul -
See her claim a howl upon a chilling wind!
Slain, he lay across a crimson floor:
She grinned in her repletion.
A blush of pink;
Beneath a glowering sky
Her savoured drink
Was done.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
pink pink pink pink pink pink her blush
pink pink pink pink pink pink her blush
pink pink pink pink pink pink her blush
pink pink pink pink pink pink
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Blue Eyed Soul
You've got a blue-eyed soul,
And if you don't let it show,
It'll leave you, you won't even know,
Without your blue-eyed soul
Can you keep it simple? Can you let the snare crack?
Can you let it move without holding back?
Are you afraid to let it go,
Without your blue-eyed soul?
You're gonna lose control,
You're gonna lose control,
Without your blue-eyed soul,
Without your blue-eyed soul,
Without your blue-eyed soul
song performed by by Wilco
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Vision quest
Wandering pine,
with rolled rug slung across her back
walked bare foot to feel the rich earth
beneath her feet.
The trees, high pines either side,
shielded the low sun casting shadows
bringing the ancestors.
Breaking through the pines
into crystal blue she laid her rug.
Calling on the four winds
North to prowling Bear
West to snarling Panther
East to breathing Moose
South to follow the doe eyed fawn
she began her vision quest
seated in a circle on the ground.
Cross legged she waited
stilled her mind
drew her quiet breath
and breathed the mountain air
slowly for the longest time.
Then it came.......
The rising...........
The oneness........
The wholeness.....
and The knowing
spreading through her
like the four winds.
There she stayed......
until the morning of the fourth day
when she rose quietly, rolled her rug
and descended through the pines;
with the rich earth beneath her feet
and the sound of running water at her side.
poem by Diana Rosser
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The Call of the Bush
Three roads there are that climb and wind
Amongst the hills, and leave behind
The patterned orchards, sloping down
To meet a little country town.
And of these roads I'll take the one
That tops the ridges, where the sun
Is tempered by the mountain-breeze
And dancing shadows of the trees.
The road is rough - but to my feet
Softer than is the city street;
And then the trees! - how beautiful
She-oak and gum - how fresh and cool!
No walls there are to hamper me;
Only in blue infinity
The distant mountain-ramparts rise
Beneath the broad arch of the skies.
And in that high place I shall hear
The wild birds' singing, soft and clear;
And horse-bells tinkling as of old
In amongst the wattles' gold
Far-off is the ocean tide;
But there across the country-side
Roll waves of bush that rise and fall
To break against the mountain-wall.
And every little farm is seen
An island in a sea of green;
And every little farm at night
Flings through the dark its beacon-light -
There in the silence of the hills,
I shall find peace that soothes and stills
The throbbing of the weary brain, -
For I am going home again.
poem by Dora Wilcox
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Storm Song
From the blue sky, pale but fair,
In the listless humid air,
Swells a distant, slate-gray row,
Angry mountains roll and grow,
Then there comes a low, faint growl,
Breezes grow into a howl,
Shattering, sharp cracks split the air,
A splattering, then a rolling snare,
Roaring, rumbling, crackling sound,
Young trees bending toward the ground,
Bowing to the storm god’s power,
Thirsty roots soak up the shower,
Gradually, the storm winds tire,
Cooler breezes now inspire,
Crisp, clean feelings of rebirth,
As bright clean sunlight bathes the earth
poem by Richard Dates
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On Thanksgiving
Be thankful you can open your eyes wide.
Be thankful for what you see outside.
Be thankful for green grass and blue sky.
Be thankful for all those passing by.
Be thankful for this country so free
Where each can express opinions peacefully.
Be thankful on this Thanksgiving Day.
Repay these gifts in your special way.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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Extinct Emotions
skies darken beneath my gaze
and send flicking pain into my soul
hate iches under my skin
with tamed anger scratching
lie's presence sickens me
strengthens my resolve
uncontrollably shivering down my fingers
dripping to the ground
rain seeps through this barrier
and opens up the floodgate to my heart
searching, seeking
finding nothing and returning empty-handed
love had been my fuel
feeding desire's needs
lust barring the right road
sending everything crashing
now hate forces love aside
killed it off its throne
anger bubbling away deep inside
lust breathing deeply
desire dying without its fuel
skies thunder beneath my gaze now
earth weakens beneath my feet
death rules beneath my touch
love is an extinct emotion
and hate begins the threat
poem by Rachel BaByBeAr Anderson
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Pictures In A Book
High on a tree a red cardinal sings
Snow melts under a free blue sky
It is Sunday and church bells ring
I love to watch the spring geese fly
The kitchen with flowers in the vase
She loved lavender lilacs on the table
Some memories never do get erased
Give your love while your still able
Now the rains and the winds blow
Mountains fill with great waterfalls
Streams swell with melting snow
Pine trees grow stalwart and tall
I remember roses on her summer dress
We loved to walk a moonlit mile
Her long hair flowing down her breast
Haunted by her laugh and sweet smile
Soon the fine tulips will start to bloom
The brown grass will turn deep green
Frogs will breed under the full moon
Wild flowers will grow by oak trees
I wonder if she often thinks of me?
We met when apple blossoms grow
Love seemed like an eternal sea
Parted when fall winds turned to snow
Now we are memories from another day
Pictures in a book neatly tucked away
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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January in New York
Black ship of night
sailing through the world
& the moon an orange slice
tangy to the teeth
of lovers who lie
under it,
sucking it.
Somewhere there are palm trees;
somewhere the sea
bluely gathers itself up
& lets itself fall again
into green;
somewhere the spangles
of light on the ocean
dazzle the eyes;
but here in the midnight city,
the black ship of night
has docked
for a long, dark stay,
& even the citrus moon
with its pockets of juice
cannot sweeten the dark.
Then the snow begins,
whirling over the Pole,
gathering force over Canada,
sprinkling the Great Lakes with sugar
which drowns in their deep black cups;
it is drawn to the spires of New York
& the flurries come
scampering at first,
lighthearted, crystalline, white,
but finally
sucked into the city
as into a black hole
in space.
The sky is suddenly pink-
pink as flesh: breasts,
babies' bottoms. Night is
day; day is whiter than the desert;
the city stops like a heart;
pigeons dip & veer
& come to rest
under the snow-hatted
watertanks.
poem by Erica Jong
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Under the Violets
HER hands are cold; her face is white;
No more her pulses come and go;
Her eyes are shut to life and light;--
Fold the white vesture, snow on snow,
And lay her where the violets blow.
But not beneath a graven stone,
To plead for tears with alien eyes;
A slender cross of wood alone
Shall say, that here a maiden lies
In peace beneath the peaceful skies.
And gray old trees of hugest limb
Shall wheel their circling shadows round
To make the scorching sunlight dim
That drinks the greenness from the ground,
And drop their dead leaves on her mound.
When o'er their boughs the squirrels run,
And through their leaves the robins call,
And, ripening in the autumn sun,
The acorns and the chestnuts fall,
Doubt not that she will heed them all.
For her the morning choir shall sing
Its matins from the branches high,
And every minstrel-voice of Spring,
That trills beneath the April sky,
Shall greet her with its earliest cry.
When, turning round their dial-track,
Eastward the lengthening shadows pass,
Her little mourners, clad in black,
The crickets, sliding through the grass,
Shall pipe for her an evening mass.
At last the rootlets of the trees
Shall find the prison where she lies,
And bear the buried dust they seize
In leaves and blossoms to the skies.
So may the soul that warmed it rise!
If any, born of kindlier blood,
Should ask, What maiden lies below?
Say only this: A tender bud,
That tried to blossom in the snow,
Lies withered where the violets blow.
poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes
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THE Pine
Shaft of beauty towering heavenly high
Dropping fragrances on passers by
Swaying in the Autumn breeze
The tall majestic pine trees
Shedding it's cones to the ground
Swaddled in needles all around
Fragrant and green in the snow
Ancient trees how tall they grow
Cooling dark green pines orth
Evergreen needles reaching forth
Like a sentry standing saluting the sky
Raising up through the clouds so high
Summer and winter under boughs spread
Snows of centuries have crowned your head
The fragrance of virtue of the pine
Rises to the heavens so sublime.
Orth - Straight.
poem by Hazel Connelly
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Green-eyed Boy
I flew off to the wild blue yonder
cause I had a dream
And I had to go
But Im filled with a sense of wonder
From the love I shared
With a green-eyed boy
Lips as sweet as mountain honey
A body warm as home made wine
But he had no dreams
And no means for money
But he had me just anytime
Chorus:
Take me back, if just in memory
Fill my cup again with joy
The fire still burns in the old rock chimney
And I still burn for that green-eyed boy
Now he was pretty
With chiseled features
Like the movie stars in the magazines
My first love and the son of a preacher
I fantasized me was james dean
But the world outside kept pulling at me
Offered me fame, respect, and gold
Designer clothes and a fancy mansion
Expensive cars, so I chose those
Repeat chorus twice
Ooh, ooh, how I love that green-eyed boy
Ooh, ooh, ooh, and I still miss
That green-eyed boy
Fade:
Do you think about me
When the nights are long and cold
Do you ever miss me
Do you my green-eyed boy
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Soldier of bronze
Bound thoughts transform to trees;
black alders are implanted in forest,
where the winds embrace 'em free
and rain drops pour to their closest.
Winter winds around trees consent,
their foliage sweep, dithering gusts;
as their firm trunks upwards extent,
pointing to skies and selected stars.
Shadows float, as hours thump near,
adjacent to his entity, walking friends,
joyous in a silver solitude to appear,
soothing count that his sins amends.
And while a joyful and moonlit glow,
dances on rhymed cadence meters,
a ghost will stay with flakes of snow,
and fly above the pastoral features.
Maids will pass, in light snow above
amid sky clouds in black agate hue,
daughters of solitude to bestow love,
embracing shapes and kindly imbue.
A soldier of bronze dances his fever
in alder forest to sway his dead life,
thrown in with his song of a griever,
a crown of laurel and his wraith wife.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Snowbow
A pitter-patter of flakey snow
North-eastern winds whip past and blow
No moisture in the air; a steady flow
Enough surely to make a snowbow?
Hurry up, look out toward the west
At the snowbow hanging in the sky
You'll be amazed at the reason why.
Windy days and snow combined is best
Always cause further flurries to fly
Reflecting back on cloudbanks up high
Drifts of pure snow tied in a bow.
poem by Rosanna Miller
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A Dream in Winter
When all the daisies and daffodils
are buried deep below,
and summer's but a memory
hidden 'pon the drifting snow ~
'tis there beneath the whitened glow,
in a bed of greenest green,
that lives the dreams of springtime hue
with a gleam of emerald sheen.
When all the trees are bared and bent
against wintry winds that blow,
and spring is but a wistful sigh
'pon the branches that bow low ~
'tis there within the boughs so wide,
in a bed of greenest green,
that lives the buds of springtime hue
with a gleam of emerald sheen.
When roses fade 'pon winter's morn
as their petals flee on frosty breath,
and thorns are left to sadly yearn
in their bed of beauty's death ~
'tis there beneath those roses grown,
in a bed of greenest green,
that lives a vision of springtime hue
with a gleam of pastel sheen.
When winter brings a world of white,
a wonderland of icy glow,
and ends the seasons of green, and gold,
hidden 'neath a field of snow ~
'tis there the sleeping earth awaits
in a bed of springtime green,
sighing softly through winter's chill,
'pon a dream of emerald sheen.
poem by Hazelmarie Elliott
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