Poet's Corner

[The Sage of Main Street]

Midnight
No moon, stillness
Smells of honeysuckle
Dark water ripples ,gator moving
Hunt starts

Haiku Cuckoo

Japanese on dates
Fumble over syllables
Poets don't get laid

 

[lg325]

Angel on Earth​

Robert A Collins 1969 (Arizona)​

• Life
• Love

Angels are to be in heaven but there is one here on Earth.You’re the one I’ve been dreaming of to share my life with for all it’s worth.I will do my best to make you happy for the rest of your life because you made me so very proud the day you became my wife
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[lg325]

Love, leave me like the light,
The gently passing day;
We would not know, but for the night,
When it has slipped away.

So many hopes have fled,
Have left me but the name
Of what they were. When love is dead,
Go thou, beloved, the same.

Go quietly; a dream
When done, should leave no trace
That it has lived, except a gleam
Across the dreamer’s face.

By Conte Cullen

 

[Lilah]

My Grandmother, the Quintessential Beauty

He stands behind his wife
in reverent silence admiring
her beauty in the mirror.
Watching her feels as if
he's sinking into a dream.
After fifty years, he's still
mesmerized; hopelessly in love.

As her tears fall, she tells him
the image in the mirror is that
of a stranger.
Her thin hands have become brittle;
her skin like parchment paper.
Her youthful form is gone and
the blooms are fading from her life.

He whispers, better than perfect
that's what you are and yet
you thought me worthy to walk by
your side all these years.
You are the portrait of ageless beauty
who rescued me and lifted me up.
Lovers never age.

Lilah

 

[lg325]

“

Friends​

Anne Brady 1954​

• Childhood

There are two types of friends.
One is the acquaintance, the
person you just say hello to on
the street.
The person you discuss war, politics,
and drugs with in passing.

The other is the close true friend.
The person with whom you share
experiences, such as joy, sorrow,
likes and dislikes.
The person who’s there when you
need him.

There is one sure way to tell
acquaintances from true friends.
That is when you have a real
problem your true friends come
around and help.
Everyone is your friend when
everything is rosy.

 

[beautress]

Angel on Earth​

Robert A Collins 1969 (Arizona)​

• Life
• Love

Angels are to be in heaven but there is one here on Earth.You’re the one I’ve been dreaming of to share my life with for all it’s worth.I will do my best to make you happy for the rest of your life because you made me so very proud the day you became my wife
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Outta the park, 1000%

 

[Lilah]

Happy Father's Day

Dad, you silently lie in my subconscious
as I sleep, buttressing my optimism.
When I awake, I am surprised
by a major miracle --
I am the essence of your smile.

Inexplicably, your voice
like ripe, sun-warmed fruits
resonates inside my head and
beats my heart like a drum,
consuming me softly and gently.

Your presence is palpable like
the tides in the sea; never-ending.
You touched me with artistic splendor
and I will pour out everything inside me
so that your memory will be fortified.

Death is no enemy, but the foundation
of gratitude, sympathy, and art.
Your love will linger long after
the wind has erased your footprints
from the universe.


Lilah

 

[midcan5]

Post 532 in this thread.

'Do not go gentle into that good night' by Dylan Thomas'

 

[lg325]

There Will Come Soft Rains​

Sara Teasdale - 1884-1933



(War Time)
There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground,
And swallows circling with their shimmering sound;
And frogs in the pools singing at night,
And wild plum trees in tremulous white,
Robins will wear their feathery fire
Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire;
And not one will know of the war, not one
Will care at last when it is done.
Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree
If mankind perished utterly;
And Spring herself, when she woke at dawn,
Would scarcely know that we were gone.

 

[lg325]

Boys Of Summer​

Mark Orr​

a tribute to the boys of summer
baseball's high and mighty
to those who played the game with grace
like joltin Joe and Whitey

hard work and dedication
swung Casey's heavy bat
and most of all they loved the game
you can be quite sure of that

the crack of the bat...the roar of the crowd
the smell of fresh cut grass
fathers and sons making memories
the kind that will forever last

I still get chills when I see the old reels
of the Babe pointing up to the sky
and after all these years I still can't hide the tears
when I hear Gehrig's recount of that final goodbye

So long to the boys of summer
To Mickey and Roger and Joe
I like to think they're still playing somewhere
and giving one h*** of a show.

 

[lg325]

Summer​

​

The weatherboard house is comforting. The deck of a strangers house, creaking beneath my feet.
Laughing and fun floating on the air.

That smile I indulge myself in and let myself float away.

The sun beaming through the part on your hair. Eyes of innocent green. We sit on that swing
you hold my hand.

Swaying back and forth the warmth of the that summer afternoon permeates through my skin through my soul.

Your kiss so sweet, I will never forget. Your glistening eyes of emerald green.

Hold my hand. For love, for summer.

A moment in time forgotten.

 

[lg325]

Summer​

​

Just a note The author of this poem is unknown. I found it in poetry.com

 

[Mindful]

When my darkness seeps into my heart, when my bones bend with the sorrow.
When my flesh feels ready to welcome the end of this journey.
I remember the touch of wild water gliding over my skin.
The way the medicine plants give so freely.
I recall how the light of the moon kisses me as I sleep, and how the smell of rich deep earth feeds me.
The flight of buzzard and the swoop of swallow.
The sense of belonging in the arms of nature,
the kinship of my non human community.
I see the hearts I love, the ones I cherish.
And that darkness, that pain,
feels held, feels loved.
And I choose life, I choose me.
——————
• Words Brigit Anna McNeil
• Art by Taryn Knight •

 

[lg325]

THE THINGS DIVINE BY JEAN BROOKS BURT​

These are the things I hold divine:
A trusting child’s hand laid in mine,
Rich brown earth and wind-tossed trees,
The taste of grapes and the drone of bees,
A rhythmic gallop, long June days,
A rose-hedged lane and lovers’ lays,
The welcome smile on neighbors’ faces,
Cool, wide hills and open places,
Breeze-blown fields of silver rye,
The wild, sweet note of the plover’s cry,
Fresh spring showers and scent of box,
The soft, pale tint of the garden phlox,
Lilacs blooming, a drowsy noon,
A flight of geese and an autumn moon,
Rolling meadows and storm-washed heights,
A fountain murmur on summer nights,
A dappled fawn in the forest hush,
Simple words and the song of a thrush,
Rose-red dawns and a mate to share
With comrade soul my gypsy fare,
A waiting fire when the twilight ends,
A gallant heart and the voice of friends.

 

[lg325]

Nightly I see you in dreams – you speak,
With kindliness sincerest,
I throw myself, weeping aloud and weak
At your sweet feet, my dearest.

You look at me with wistful woe,
And shake your golden curls;
And stealing from your eyes there flow
The teardrops like to pearls.

You breathe in my ear a secret word,
A garland of cypress for token.
I wake; it is gone; the dream is blurred,
And forgotten the word that was spoken.
(Poetic translation by Hal Draper)
Poem by Harry Heine.

 

[Mindful]

 

[Mindful]

~A feather found reminds you~That life has a way of guiding you~Life has a way to comfort you~That things always get better~And that nothing ever stays the same~
Love & Peace To You All

 

[Mindful]

William Butler Yeats' 1917 poem lyrically describes another lush autumn day. It can be enjoyed for its beautiful imagery, but the poem's subtext is the pain of the passage of time. In the final image, Yeats writes of the longing and lack that autumn evokes as he imagines the departure of the swans he is observing and waking one morning to their absence.

"The trees are in their autumn beauty,
The woodland paths are dry,
Under the October twilight the water
Mirrors a still sky;
Upon the brimming water among the stones
Are nine-and-fifty swans.
The nineteenth autumn has come upon me
Since I first made my count;
I saw, before I had well finished,
All suddenly mount
And scatter wheeling in great broken rings
Upon their clamorous wings...
But now they drift on the still water,
Mysterious, beautiful;
Among what rushes will they build,
By what lake's edge or pool
Delight men's eyes when I awake some day
To find they have flown away?"

 

[lg325]

'Fall, leaves, fall' by Emily Bronte
Fall, leaves, fall; die, flowers, away;
Lengthen night and shorten day;
Every leaf speaks bliss to me
Fluttering from the autumn tree.

I shall smile when wreaths of snow
Blossom where the rose should grow;
I shall sing when night's decay
Ushers in a drearier day.

 

[Mindful]

O Little Sliver of Moon Waning

O little sliver of moon waning
that shines on waves desolately reigning,
O little sliver of silver, what mass of dreams
swells here towards your gentle glow!

Fleeting breaths of foliage,
sighs of flowers from the woods
exhale to the sea: no song, no cry,
no sound pierces the vast silence.

Oppressed by love, by pleasure,
the world of the living falls asleep...
O little sliver waning, what mass of dreams
swells here towards your gentle glow!

Gabriele D'Annunzio.​