Village Green
Out in the country,
Far from all the soot and noise of the city,
Theres a village green.
Its been a long time
Since I last set eyes on the church with the steeple
Down by the village green.
twas there I met a girl called daisy
And kissed her by the old oak tree.
Although I loved my daisy, I saw fame,
And so I left the village green.
I miss the village green,
And all the simple people.
I miss the village green,
The church, the clock, the steeple.
I miss the morning dew, fresh air and sunday school.
And now all the houses
Are rare antiquities.
American tourists flock to see the village green.
They snap their photographs and say gawd darn it,
Isnt it a pretty scene?
And daisys married tom the grocer boy,
And now he owns a grocery.
I miss the village green,
And all the simple people.
I miss the village green,
The church, the clock, the steeple.
I miss the morning dew, fresh air and sunday school.
And I will return there,
And Ill and daisy,
And well sip tea, laugh,
And talk about the village green.
We will laugh and talk about the village green.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Alankar(Decor) -40
A Visit To My Village(Chaucerian Roundel)
Till my last ken it was green, green alone
Looked just for God's tread carpeted sacred
Or an attire godly live emerald
Much a velvet thought even now I'm prone
To feel the heaven for me descended
Till my last ken it was green, green alone
Such be, changing are not people alone
Even the paddy fields to houses changed
Last trip here to say there were all paved
'Till my last ken it was green, green alone'
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Rosebank
From the village of Rosebank the hills look so green
A beautiful country as fine as i've seen
A gem of the mountains on the higher ground
Is this quiet little village with hills all around.
In the Green Frog cafe i go back in time
A bard of the old school sat crafting his rhyme
His long hair and long beard seemed whiter than gray
And he sat in the cafe and wrote every day.
In the 'Green Frog' each morning for an hour or two
He sipped his coffee looking out on the view
He took in the beauty it came out in words
The green of the woods and the songs of the birds.
He sat in the cafe this maker of song
And sipped on his coffee and he thought hard and long
And he gazed on those mountains and song to him came
And he died old and poor though he lives on in fame.
And though the bard for long years has now lain with the dead
His verses survive and by many still read
And the mountains of Rosebank that gave him his rhyme
Are still green as ever unfaded by time.
poem by Francis Duggan
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I miss my childhood
I miss my childhood everyday
This missing increases day by day
I miss those days of happiness
which were full of joy and naughtiness
I miss my grandpa's magnificent love
I miss my grandma's food serve
I miss my village and my darling home
Now I am sad and alone
I was used to go garden daily evening
where I see the day changing
I play their with my friends
who were perfect in that and were legends
I miss stealing of mango from trees
I miss those mountainy friendly trees
I miss play of hide and seek
we hide on guava's great peak
I miss my fields and ponds
I miss that sweet smell of my lands
I miss the scolds of elders
I miss my village builders
I miss my grandpa's old shoulders
I miss my village's brave soldiers
I miss my cow's sweet milk
I miss my cranky and playful tricks
No one can return my childhood
And that hunt for fruits in woods
I have left my childhood very far
But I need life like that with no bar
I am hungry for that love of village
my hunger becomes more with age
In this world of stress and worries
I want back my childhood glories
Life is such a name
That plays with everyone, a different game
But in every game there is some hopeful ray
I miss my childhood everyday.
(27 march 2010, Lucknow)
poem by Shashank Dwivedi
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A pure white poem and empty shops
I asked a dog-walker for the short cut
to the local centre shop.
She told me 'Walk to the village green
then turn right. A skip and a hop.'
'Thank you' I said, unknowingly
that the village green WASN'T green..
Everything was blanketed in a coat of snow,
it was WHITE where the green had been!
I followed the tracks and got to the shop
where crowds were milling about lost.
The bread and eggs they were looking for
could not be bought at any cost.
The shelves were bare, reminded me
of reports I'd seen on the telly.
Thirds World countries, very little food,
youngsters with hunger-swollen bellies.
Ah well, it's pasta for me tonight
and tomorrow again, no doubt.
Those tomatoes in cans will be useful and, I expect,
the tin of beans will eke it out.
poem by Francesca Johnson
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I miss the green of my world
I miss the green of my world
I miss the green of muria
The huge trees spread
Everywhere I sight
T miss the green of my front of garden
Where the flower blossom
Roses, jasmines, orchids, and another
I miss the bird
Singing, shouting in the morning
I miss the sun
The morning rising
The warm in my skin
I miss my
Kadilangu, feb/o3/o8
poem by Khoirun Niam
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Daylight
(sung by chorus)
Daylight over the village green early in the morning.
Daylight over the hills and valleys heralding the morning.
Daylight over the mountains, daylight on the village green,
Daylight over the field and the factories.
Another night has gone away and here comes yet another day.
See the early morning risers walking round with bleary eyes.
Worn out housewives grit their teeth ignoring new born babies cries.
Look at all the busy people this way, that way, everywhere
Biting toast and swallowing tea and breakfast specials on the air.
Feel that daylight.
Feel the sunlight on my pillow and it stops my yawing.
I thank God that Im still around to see another dawn in.
Daylight over the valleys, daylight lighting up the trees,
Daylight over the hillside,
Smile a smile and sing a song, another night has been and gone.
Middle-aged bankers crack their backs and wish they were young and in their teens,
Lonely spinsters dream of dating roger moore or steve mcqueen.
Health fanatics in their attics training for the empire games,
School boys dream of captain scarlet, battle ships and aeroplanes.
Feel that daylight, daylight.
Daylight on the village green,
Daylight,
Field and the valleys,
Daylight.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Village Idiot
Did you see the lad, on the corner
He was standing drinking wine
Wears his overcoat in the summer
And short sleeves in the winter time
Takes his holidays, down at the bookies
Well he knows how to pick a horse
Village tramping round the countryside
He wears a smile, but he doesnt say much
Village idiot, hes complicated
Village idiot, simple mind
Village idiot, he does know something
But hes just not saying
Dont you know hes onto something
You can see it, you can see it in his eyes
Sometimes he looks so happy
As he goes strolling by
Oh village idiot, hes complicated
Village idiot, hes got a simple mind
Village idiot, must know something
But hes just not saying
Well you all know hes onto something
You can see it in his eyes
Sometimes he looks so happy
When he goes walking by
Sometimes he looks so happy
When he goes walking by
Sometimes he looks so happy
When he goes walking by.
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Global Village
Global village
Though we are all human
we are made to be different
by forces beyond our clout
Yet they want remake us
in a new image of their choice
in a village too big to be safe
The world they now call
a single village in the globe
with a big brother to match
As long as we are second class
within that large village fashioned
we would be subjected to
someone’s standards
someone’s culture
someone’s technology
someone’s understanding
someone’s world view
someone’s theories and concepts
They try hard in harder ways
to make us part of that village
but we know we are different
and shall strive to leave outside
that fashioned unsafe village
poem by Yusuf Adamu
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Green, Green, and More Green
There is green everywhere,
even in peoples' hair.Some
on hands, some on shirts.
There is green everywhere!
Green, green, and more green.
I think I'm going crazy over green.
If you don't wear green you get pinched,
then you'll start to itch.
So many people are obsessed with green.
Green Spring, green air.Green feet, green wheat, green meat.
Green isn't very neat!
poem by Autumn Howard
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The Story Of Ali Rıza And Ahmet
How strange is the story of
Ali Rıza and Ahmet
One lives in the village
The other in the city
And every morning
The one in the city goes to the village
And the one in the village to the city
poem by Orhan Veli Kanik
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The Rim Of Green
Green panties, green roses
green tits, green milk.
Green moon, posies in green.
green eyes, green full lips
green face, cheese, green..
Green around the rim,
green limes can but erupt...?
poem by Is It Poetry
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The Village Pond
Here, there, women, children and men
Talk animatedly, little water waves disrupted by scooping
Water vessels, the faded green water lilies, shoved aside.
Cows moo, the goats bleat,
School children scramble for a spill,
The edges, slippery and muddy, non of a bother.
The gold, liquid of life, simmers under the hot sun,
Though, shrinking in size, by every draw,
The earth is bare, the pond tags their hope.
Here in the pond, they see, sigh and fall
The feminine and masculine bodies attract
The gossip, filters, confirmed, a new life sees dawn.
Wild tree fruits, like monsters surround the village pond
I'm told the fruits, purify the village pond
Lives ruled, made to see day, Honor to the village pond.
poem by Charles Jagongo Ogola
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Inspired by Issa - My Home Village
my home village
the virgin mary still stands
young as ever
my home village
old friends like me
away from home
my home village
old friends live in
new homes
inspired by
my home village-
the winter rain targets
a standing Buddha
-Issa,1816
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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The Village Green
ON the cheerful village green,
Skirted round with houses small,
All the boys and girls are seen,
Playing there with hoop and ball.
Now they frolic hand in hand,
Making many a merry chain;
Then they form a warlike band,
Marching o'er the level plain.
Now ascends the worsted ball,
High it rises in the air,
Or against the cottage wall,
Up and down it bounces there.
Then the hoop, with even pace,
Runs before the merry throngs;
Joy is seen in every face,
Joy is heard in cheerful songs.
Rich array, and mansions proud,
Gilded toys, and costly fare,
Would not make the little crowd
Half so happy as they are.
Then, contented with my state,
Where true pleasure may be seen,
Let me envy not the great,
On a cheerful village green.
poem by Ann Taylor
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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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The Village Green
On the cheerful village green,
Skirted round with houses small,
All the boys and girls are seen,
Playing there with hoop and ball.
Now they frolic hand in hand,
Making many a merry chain;
Then they form a warlike band,
Marching o'er the level plain.
Now ascends the worsted ball,
High it rises in the air,
Or against the cottage wall,
Up and down it bounces there.
Then the hoop, with even pace,
Runs before the merry throngs;
Joy is seen in every face,
Joy is heard in cheerful songs.
Rich array, and mansions proud,
Gilded toys, and costly fare,
Would not make the little crowd
Half so happy as they are.
Then, contented with my state,
Where true pleasure may be seen,
Let me envy not the great,
On a cheerful village green.
poem by Jane Taylor
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River Korotoa
(DEDICATED TO SHOVA
A FRIEND)
..................................
THE RIVER KOROTOA
THROUGH THE VILLAGE IT FLOWS,
WITH ALL HER BEAUTY AND SPLASH
ROUND AND ROUND THE SILVERY STREAM GOES.
BESIDE THE GREEN PADDY FIELD,
ON IT`S WAY THE KOROTOA RUNS
DAWN TO DUSK SHE GURGLES AND HUMS.
WHEN THE MOON COMES DOWN
OH YOU SEE WHEN YOU FEEL LONELY,
AND THE VILLAGE GOES ROUND.
RIVER GOES LIKE THE GIRL SHOVA
WHO LIVES BESIDE THE BANK OF KOROTOA.
OH THE DREAMY RIVER RUNS
TO DONATE SILT TO THE FARMER
AH THE MUSICAL RHYTHM
WHEN IT PASSES THE VILLAGE DAUGHTER.
YOU THE RIVER KOROTOA
SO BLUE AND CLEAN
LIKE THE LOVE OF SHOVA
WHISPERS AND MURMURS DURING THE SPRING.
(RIVER KOROTOA-NEARLY DYING)
poem by Sohel Mahamud
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When I walked to school in the mornings I would start out alone but would pick up four other boys along the way. We would set out together after school across the village green.
quote by Roald Dahl
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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GREEN, A Litany
green in the midst of drab desolation
green ‘til the tide in the street overflows
green that preserves green's green reputation
green behind curtains, like cellist & bow
green on occasions no green is permissible
green by inversion a negative flame
green in final disgrace & dismissal
green where the gravedigger shoulders his spade
green like the walls of Verlaine's Belgium prison
green woods, wolf & poet meeting on equal foot
green like embroidery on old smoking-jackets
covered with needlepoint dragons & soot
green like a murderer gone to the guillotine
green like the lawns of this land breaking through
our windows in herbicide frenzy to taunt us
green like the tarnish on brass tiger shoes
green the result of choice or of chance
green when the famished, the hopeful despair
green that we have no hope of outguessing
green for which always we must be prepared
poem by Jay Mandeville
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