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Best Poems Written by Alan Jeeves

Below are the all-time best Alan Jeeves poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Plaisir D' Amour

Plaisir d'amour ne dure qu'un moment
Chagrin d'amour dure toute la vie.


Tis here that I met you on a pleasing summer morn
Where blossoms of the cherry, out on the bough, adorn;
Underneath the cherry tree euphoria welled soon,
I met you in the morning, I loved you by the noon.

You were more the things to me that I should ever know
And there beneath the cherry tree, neath the scented show,
We watched the sun rise in the sky and felt our hearts entwine
And all the world was lost to me just as your eyes kissed mine.

We loved throughout that summer time down in the cherry glade;
The warmest days that I had known that God has ever made.
And from an overflowing cup of mirth where I may drink
Beneath the blooming cherry tree, beneath the perfumed pink.

But as the autumn chill appeared and cooled the air around
The leaves upon the cherry tree were tumbled to the ground.
Then so the dusk of time came by, the evening of the day,
And in the darkness of the night my love had gone away.

Yet still the joy of love is mine, though but a moment long,
The memory of those blissful days shall always here belong.
And I shall sacrifice the peace I ever knew before ~
The pain of love remains with me for now and evermore.
 

Plaisir d'amour ne dure qu'un moment
Chagrin d'amour dure toute la vie.

Copyright © Alan Jeeves | Year Posted 2022



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Tannenbaum

Here I grow, a handsome fir tree,
Standing upright within my wood;
An innocent, then let me be.

Where now I thrive for all to see,
Strobilus stemmed out of the bud;
Here I grow, a handsome fir tree.

Today I prosper, living free,
As streaming sap spawns my lifeblood;
An innocent, then let me be.

Forever green and wild are we,
My friends and I'd age if we could;
Here I grow, a handsome fir tree.

The gentle breeze may hear my plea
And listen to me as it should;
An innocent, then let me be.

So, man is come to sever me,
To rob me of my livelihood.
Here I grow, a handsome fir tree 
An innocent, then let me be.

      Alan S Jeeves

Copyright © Alan Jeeves | Year Posted 2022

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The Admonishing Wind

The trumpet of a prophecy! O wind
To gravely foretell of things soon to be
Upon your journey as you onward dash.
You whisper fortunes for each and any
Or speak of downfalls to befall us all.

Blow from the bright, silver, frozen north ice
Slowly depleting and turned to ocean.
Carry the tidings past inlet and shore
Where feather and wing, polluted by grime,
Are strangely. awkwardly, misplaced and lost.

Rustle the white-purpled hillside heather
Crying out for the rains, pleading in vain,
Sunburned and sun-bronzed where once were the storms
But drizzles are seldom mentioned today
For clouds are redundant and left to roam.

Darkness falls early to shadow the land
The coughing of chimneys wind gathers up
And is choked by the wheezing smoking breath
Which stifles and smothers the end of day,
Where darkness lingers, reluctant to go.

Yet, we say we care for our mother earth:
As our god watches blindly, we do nought
But talk of repentance to save our souls
Though don't heed the sighs of the warning wind
So, it shuts out hope and wisps it away.

Copyright © Alan Jeeves | Year Posted 2022

Details | Alan Jeeves Poem

The Trembling Willow

A willow trembles in the breeze
And stoops in awe as angels sneeze;
Quaking feebly to its knees,
Bending, doleful, if you please.

A day, as this, when squalls blow wild
The willow cries ~ as like a child;
Deserted, sad, forlorn, beguiled,
And all aloof, left out, exiled.

Now her branches droop away
Blenching down throughout the day;
Keeping blusts of gusts at bay
Harboured from the rainy spray.

Underfoot a lonely duck
Shelters in a babbling brook,
Dabbling in a shady nook
Safe and sound, her haven took.

Then above the daylight seeps,
In the sky the sunlight peeps;
She, thankful for the faith she keeps
The trembling willow gently weeps.

Copyright © Alan Jeeves | Year Posted 2022

Details | Alan Jeeves Poem

There's Nothing In the Night Like the Sound of the Wind

When all the land is in repose
There is a noise, as nightfall shows,
A noise to stir the sinews of your mind.
And those who hear it at its best,
(Who know its sound, as others rest)
 May thank the Lord, he made it for mankind.

She hums and blows her gentle breezes,
She comes and goes just as she pleases,
Purrs pastoral verses as her theme;
And when the twilight tones the air,
Then, striking strains are ever there
For one an' all who worship her esteem.

Her voice caresses mighty trees,
And bends their limbs with awesome ease,
Oaks submit and beeches stand-a-quiver.
She stings their leaves when passing through,
Then, sings a chorus, just for you,
A symphony so shrill it makes you shiver.

At times, if anger should prevail,
She tests her truth and blows a gale,
She proves the very essence of her skill.
She musters substance all around,
Her lusty bluster puffs, profound,
She punishes the ground with all her will.

But she deems it daylight soon
So, she chants a discrete tune
And gifts a temperate ballad, gladly bright;
And when the storm departs the earth
She whistles warm for all she's worth;
There's no sound like the wind makes in the night.

Copyright © Alan Jeeves | Year Posted 2022



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Taormina Sunset

When sun on Taormina sinks
Its lull will paint the evening still
In pastel, scarlet, orchid pinks.

Far yonder star, in silence, winks
So well aware the air will chill
When sun on Taormina sinks.

The boundless vista slowly shrinks
With twilight tints at nighttide's will
In pastel, scarlet, orchid pinks.

And, all at sea, the ocean drinks
The gentle rain from off the hill
When sun on Taormina sinks.

The solar sage above re-thinks
And yields a sundown-coloured spill
In pastel, scarlet, orchid pinks.

The light of dawn here interlinks
With dark of dusk, the day to kill,
When sun on Taormina sinks
In pastel, scarlet, orchid pinks.

               Alan S Jeeves

Copyright © Alan Jeeves | Year Posted 2022

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How Kind, the Morning

The morning is kind to me when I awaken
She dallies in waiting till I first peep my eyes
As one is half open and t'other half closed
Yet, both can detect her fresh, golden grin.

"Stay away darkness!"  she seemingly says
"At least for now, let me take my turn"
So, darkness agrees and sleeps for a while
And the morning is grateful and laughs with the sun.

As the deer in the meadow bound for the woods
(The cover of darkness now is forfeit)
For, the trespassing deer are really quite shy
And morning has stalked them, back to their haunt.

Still, the morning is bold and hurries ahead
Nought stops her now, not even the rain,
As she braves it head on and shines through the diamonds
Gifting a rainbow, by my window to end.

But my window is closed and the rainbow stalls
And peers at himself in his own reflection
"Who is the fairest ?" asks he to himself,
He, gazing right back as the window is glass.

And what of myself ? what, then, of me ?
Remorses of yesterday spill all about
Then, the kind morning whispers (soon before noon)
"Ah! that was before - today, it is new!"

Copyright © Alan Jeeves | Year Posted 2022

Details | Alan Jeeves Poem

Amor Litteras In Antiquis - the Old Love Letter

Velvet paper tinctured pink,
A red rose at its crest;
The whittled feather, bathed in ink,
Set to bare its best.
A lambent candle close at hand
With dancing, flitting flare;
Where evening translates its command
And nothing stirs the air.

Words are authored, truly writ,
Where, from the soul they flow;
As on the page they snugly sit,
Affection to bestow.
Filling out each careful line,
Each one a work of art,
Hand and mind, with pen, entwine
Concerted to the heart.

And when the tender prose she'll read
And tastes the chaste romance.
She feels a shivered chill, indeed,
Deep in her breast ~ per chance?
And as the fondest words engage,
Seen through her moistened eyes:
A teardrop falls to blot the page
And stays and never dries.

Copyright © Alan Jeeves | Year Posted 2022

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I Wonder What You Look Like Now

I reflect on what you look like now!
You were beauteous when I saw you last.
What precious gifts did time endow?
All those years of tranquil absence
As you slumbered away the time somehow.

I wonder if your eyes remain bright,
They always looked at me kindly.
I think that, if you're at home tonight,
I could give you a call ~ perhaps...
Or should I just simply write?

I expect that you smile as you always could;
Intriguing, enchanting, and toasty warm.
But you smiled for me today ~ I knew you would
(In any case I've misplaced your number).
I must be more careful ~ I know I should.

Do you think of me, perchance?
When days are long and nights are cold.
Bestow on me a passing glance?
Think of times, now far away  ~  Distant?
A sombre time, a valedictory happenchance.

I should visit but what's to gain?
~ To see, now, how you are?
It could easily even cause you pain.
I would come soon, now! today!
But outside it looks like rain.

Copyright © Alan Jeeves | Year Posted 2022

Details | Alan Jeeves Poem

Inside a Darkened Room

A darkened room knows no sorrow
No today and no tomorrow;
A darkened room has no sadness
It has no pain, only madness.

A darkened room has no light
Has no moon or starlight bright;
A darkened room has no shine
Has no lustre, yours or mine.

A darkened room has no good
Has no heartbeat, has no blood;
A darkened room has no breath
Has no life but only death.

A darkened room has no style
Has no simper, has no smile;
A darkened room has no grin
Has no easiness within.

A darkened room has no day
Has no notion, has no say;
A darkened room has no eve
Has no reason to believe.

A darkened room has no PC
It has no he or has no she;
A darkened room has no view
Has no me and has no you.

Copyright © Alan Jeeves | Year Posted 2022

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Book: Reflection on the Important Things