Poetry Summer Poems

These Poetry Summer poems are examples of Poetry poems about Summer. These are the best examples of Poetry Summer poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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The poem(s) are below...



Details | Rhyme |
The steadily falling cold August rains
Continue to pour upon Cheshires lanes;
Over flattening fields of soddened wheat,
Soaking the grass, splashing the feet.

Stands the Combine in the shed;
The unripened apples hanging rosy red.
Stands the caped heron all alone -
His glinting eye as cold as stone.

And in amongst the many puddles
We step around like our troubles:
So lurch ahead with our retreat
Like drunken fools in the street.

And through this months darkly frowns
The cleansing downpours wash the towns;
Scrubs the spire from ingrained time -
Absolves the guilt from the crime!

Copyright © john fleming | Year Posted 2014




Details | Romanticism |
Yesterday I dreamed a dream,
that had no end.
You in your white gown, and long, black hair flowing.
You were calling my name.
I heard you, but I couldn't reach you!

And when I say your soul was tainted.
You went out in the night life.
You dressed in your black, evening ball gown.
You danced till the Red Sun came out, over the horizon.

You smiled at me.
A flame in my heart burned red hot!
My knees and hands shook with nerves;
Nerves of love and joy.
I blew you a kiss,
but you turned away!
Oh, please don't turn away from me,
for I would die, if it happened again!

Your beautiful and golden heart showed me the truth.
The truth that every gentleman wants to hear.
I've seen you walk the streets,
in the blue dawn of August.
As I followed you, you stopped and looked at me.
You smiled so beautifully, and my heart fluttered into oblivion!

You walked with your friends and I went my way.
I couldn't find a single trace of you that day.
I cried out "Why did I leave her like this?!"
I looked for you, all over the courtyards and town squares!
Yet no sight of your beauty.
... No sight of your golden heart, that I hold so dear to mine.
Where did you go?
Why did you leave?
Why did I leave... that is the question!

I should have stayed by your side,
till the ends of time.

Yet I had left.
Why...?

One gloomy and parish midnight.
I came along a road,
and soon found myself in front of a wayward cafe.
Smiling faces all around me.
I spotted a beautiful face that outstood all the other faces around me.
It was yours.

Your face brought me to sanity and I went over too you!
You spotted me and tried to run!
I caught you in the dirty hallway and pulled you in.

Our eyes met and I fell in love once again.
Sanity re-entered my mind, body and soul.
I kissed you and you kissed back.
You held my hand, and we left the cafe and walked down the street.

The street was gloomy, yet we together brightened the dark street.
We went back to the lit up city streets, of the lands filled with smiling faces,
and we fell in love and slept together.

You lay there in my restless arms and I gave you a sweet kiss,
upon your sweet and soft head.
Your dark hair was sweet smelling and felt of silk.
I closed my eyes and fell asleep with you,
there in my arms and we dreamed together
till the morning came and woke me up,
and took you away from my weak and weary arms.

I dreamed a dream of you.

Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2013

Details | Light Poetry |
When I got home from camp today,
My parents almost died.
They asked me how I got this way,
And here's what I replied:

"This little cast from heel to hip
Is nothing much at all.
Some broken shingles made me slip
From off the dining hall.

"The poison ivy's not so bad.
It missed my back and chest.
Of course, I guess I oughta add
Mosquitoes got the rest.

"I tried to eat some hick'ry nuts
And cracked a tooth or two.
And all these bruises, scabs, and cuts?
I haven't got a clue.

"I got the lump that's on my head
From diving in the lake.
I should have watched for rocks, instead
Of grabbing for the snake.

"That leaves this bandage on my chin
And these three finger sprains,
Along with lots of sunburned skin
And sniffles from the rains.

"And oh, I got a muscle cramp
And very nearly drowned.
It's some terrific summer camp,
The coolest one around."

Copyright © Richard Thomas | Year Posted 2018




Details | Rhyme |
Ana
She writes her songs and her poems,
not one person know 'em.
She listens to the sound of her music,
she's stuck to it like a tick.

If someone took the time to listen,
her true colors would glisten.
She's put on a mask,
and hid everything when someone asked.

She was the type of girl who would always laugh,
making you wish it would last.
She was the type of girl who would smile the day away,
too bad it is no longer that way.

She is now the girl who is depressed,
I bet you're impressed.
Since no one could tell
that she was going through hell.

Everyone thought she was happy, 
when really, she felt crappy.
Everyone thought she was having the time of her life,
who would have guess her best friend was a knife?

She spent her days alone,
she seemed to do everything on her own.
Never once wanted help.
Thought she could do everything herself.

Then the day came,
when she lost the game.
She fell apart,
and everyone saw her broken heart.

They saw the way she overreacted.
Oh, if only you saw the way she acted.
She bruised herself, scratched herself, and made herself bleed,
no one knew what it was that she needed.

They saw her tears,
and that was what she feared.
They found out she wasn't okay,
oh, she hated that day.

Everyone found out about her secret,
and she wish they'd just forget,
but she knew they couldn't,
and that they wouldn't.

She left that town and started over,
no one knew she went undercover.
She said she got better,
when really... something else occurred. 

She secretly hurt herself,
and walked away from help.
Everyone thought she recovered,
when really, she was undercover.

She secretly wanted to get worse,
no one knew of course.
No one cared to ask,
if she was wearing her mask.

Now it's too late,
she locked the gate.
Killed herself,
everyone had forgotten she needed help.

Goodbye cold world,
this was a story of a girl
who once loved everyone
then feared who it was who won.

Copyright © Ana Jusino | Year Posted 2013

Details | Light Poetry |

                                    The meadow is full of Strawberries

                                     Large juicy delicious strawberries

                                     Take a straw and thread them on

                                       They smell like warm summer

                                         Pick as many as you want

                                        Cute lipstick of strawberries

                                         I love your beautiful smile 

                                         When you get back home

                                          Sprinkle a little sugar on









07.06.2013
A-L  Andresen :)     *- A picture of a sweet girl enjoying summer strawberry :)

Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2013

Details | Prose Poetry |

Wind so cold.
Blowing.
Fondles my face.
Tickling.
The tears from heaven.
Pouring. 
Tapping. 
Dancing.
Unrelenting.
I wonder if i wish
    to stop them
From numbness,
    to waking,
          then sensing.

The little voice in me says,
Wait, don't go.
Stay a little longer. I plead.
Sing for me today, rain.
With the gliding rhythm on my piano,
                                                  I'll play.
Chilly Wind, caress my bare skin 
     with the pure coldness that you bring.
Unusual,
     like it's my first time in the snow.
Somehow, 
     the fire tree never fades in the picture.
The yellow sunkissed leaves, too.
What is it about Summer and Fall
    that I can't forget?
Memories. Sweet imaginations.

The chilly rain. The misty wind.
You are here. 
Freeze me with the sharp coldness you give.
Calm me. Maybe, comfort me.
And, if you leave
Will you visit me when summertime comes?
Before it gets too late
   And again I fold.


Copyright © Wendy Meyer | Year Posted 2013

Details | Romanticism |
Pursue love,
the love that has no meaning,
the silver ports of the moon,
shine so bright,
that it blinds you in the twilight
she is beautiful and she is divine
she is the song sang by the sweet nightingales
in the gardens of worthy, overgrowning and blooming roses,
like wildfire grow tall and the thornes of the vines
tangle around her feet and drag her ever so slightly
throughout the garden of beauty.
As the roses lay along a table,
as she sits at the table
and she waits for me, the wordman
to come to the dinner table at the stroke of nine
and sit with her,
start a scene or two of romantic setting,
to pursue love in her name.
Love is around us,
the candlelight shines and reflects in her silk hair,
as her evening dress glitters and shines
and her bossom shows itself in the nightsky
as we lay together,
we pursue a dream together,
forever we live together forever,
as we stand upon the belcony of Romeo and Juliet's love scene
we swim in a pool of sweet divine care and love,
we swallow grapes and drink wine
hand and hand on Persian rugs and virgin white cloth sheets,
we dance to a simple, yet sweet Chopin's masterpiece
of his beautiful nocturnes,
which make such a sweet and romantic song in our heads.

We stomp out the flames
as we dance the night away,
and you lay in my arms,
and I kiss you upon your lovely head,
and you hold my hand,
and I hold you tight
never thinking of letting your love go away from me,
I would take my own life,
before I lose your love.
See us together,
it is a painting that lasts lifetimes,
that needs no touch-ups.
I care for you and love you!
Love me, I know you will.

My sweet and loving portrait lady,
who in reality is more beautiful than a fully bloomed rose
that sits on its green stem,
in the garden of beauty that sits outside my window.
Come up to my chambers
as I picked roses for you and pettles litter the atmosphere
as love's tension grows
and suspence brings us together,
let us make love tonight
seal the passion
and pursue love once and for all.

Then shall we wake with the first rays of the blazing of the morning sun,
I shall wake next to your beauty and glory,
and I shall point my attention to the heavens
and thank the Gods for sending you on the open road,
toward my chamber door, I call my heart.
Then we shall dress, and walk the pathways
in the garden of beauty
and I shall pick a bauquet of roses
and we shall sit by the lake and pursue our love
for one another
and nothing, not one earthquake shall shake us apart.

-9/26/2013-

Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2013

Details | Light Poetry |

                                    A beautiful and warm sunny day
                                     She is relaxing in her hammock
                           In her hand a glass of lemonade with ice cubes
                                           Takes up an ice cube
                                      holding it up against the sun
                                 The sun shines through so beautifully
                                Cold drops dripping between her breast
                         Keeps the ice cube against the sun until it disappears
                               Around her belly button a small cooling pond
                                Looking up at the sun, smiling and thinking
                          there are still five months to King Winter will come
                        Oh how life is lovely in the sunshine and her hammock







17.07.2013
A-L  Andresen :)

Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2013

Details | Prose Poetry |
Estaba lleno el verano,
Estaba lleno el verano
de flores, de deseos
como un espejo de cristáles azules,
reflejando los sueños 
y el suave color del cielo,
estaba lleno el verano
con nuestro amor.

El color de las casas 
antiguas de Oxford,
limpias como después
de una lluvia de leche,
blancas y maravillosas.

Estaba lleno el verano,
lleno de nuestro amor
y de canciones.
Estaba lleno el verano
de calles angustas y cerradas.

Estaba lleno el verano
de espuma, de murallas antiguas,
de música abandonada y olvida.

Estaba lleno el verano
y nuestro amor hize brillar
los sitios como la nieve
hace blanquear las estrellas
en noches de invierno.

Estaba lleno el verano,
lleno de nuestros deseos,
lleno de flores frescas 
de un paraiso extraño.

Estaba lleno éste verano,
lleno de abrazos y besos de nuestros corazónes.

----------------------------------------------------------

Der Sommer war voll,
der Sommer war voll
mit Blumen, mit Wünschen
wie ein Spiegel aus blauen Kristallen,
der Wünsche wiederspiegelt,
der Sommer war voll mit unserer Liebe.

Die Farben der alten
Häuser Oxfords,
sauber, wie nach einem Regen
aus Milch,
weiß und herrlich.

Der Sommer war voll,
voll von unserer Liebe
und von Gesang.
Der Sommer war voll
von engen, verschlossenen Gassen.

Der Sommer war voll
von Schaum, altem Gemäuer,
von vergessener, verlorener Musik.

Der Sommer war voll
und unsere Liebe ließ die Plätze erstrahlen
wie der Schnee 
die Sterne erstrahlen lässt
in Winternächten.

Der Sommer war voll,
voll von unseren Sehnsüchten,
von frischen Blumen 
eines fremden Paradieses,
voller Umarmungen und voll der Küsse unserer Herzen.

----------------------------------------------------------------

The summer was full with
flowers and dreams
like a mirror of  blue crystals,
reflecting dreams
and the soft colour of  the sky.
The summer was full with our love.
The colour of the ancient houses of Oxford,
neat as after a rain of milk,
white and wonderful.
The summer was full 
With our love and songs.
The summer was full with 
narrow, crowded streets.
The summer was full with
the foam of old walls,
full of forgotten and old tunes.
Our love threw light over the sites,
like snow let shine the stars 
in winter nights.
The summer was full with our desires
and fresh flowers 
of an unknown paradise.
The summer was full 
with our kisses
and with our hearts.

Copyright © Gert W. Knop | Year Posted 2010

Details | Light Poetry |
            

              Scrumptious sight of prairies and grass
       Ardent beaming of flower buds and buzzing bees
         Leafless coils, branches of trees become alive
          Hastening! Arousing everyone's joy and vive
             Everyone happy on cheerful springtime!

             A cotillion trips and chirps of jolly birds
         From some distance, I have started to heard
         Fantastic shun and kisses of pretty butterflies
       Tempting all species of flora and fauna to thrive
        Welcoming, beckoning the heat of summertime!

         First crisp of breeze, creating dew in morning
Canopy of red and orange leaves from branches, enchanting!
      Turning the world into a canvass of nature's brush
  Unnoticeable, such romantic dash making anyone blush
  Revel, embrace the sweet amorous season of autumn!

                 Solid chilling raindrops of snowflakes
                Giving warning: careful during breaks
            Covering branches, bringing icy cold aches
                Yet, skiing an exhilarating cool escape
             Delight in the coolness ambiance of winter!

                                         BY
                                    olive_eloi
                                     2:22 pm
                                   02/26/2014

CONTEST: MEMORIES ON BRANCHES
SPONSOR: GAIL ANGEL DOYLE
4TH PLACE

Copyright © Olive Eloisa Guillermo | Year Posted 2014

Details | Light Poetry |
In summer, we grill them in our backyard. Preparation of spare ribs is not hard. Just light the charcoal, and let it get hot. Is there a special brand of barbecue sauce you've got? Spread the sauce on the ribs and let them cook away. Barbecued ribs make a special treat on a summer day. Make sure you get your share before they all go away. inspired by another member's poem

Copyright © Robert Pettit | Year Posted 2014

Details | Prose Poetry |
A flower breaks out afresh from its swollen, 
green bud and then stretches outward into 
the sun-drenched sky.

A thing of nature that's timeless
and perennial, it faithfully blooms and
adorns its surroundings like its predecessors.

Never alone, it is joined by its floral neighbors
of its own kind in fragrant numbers, suffusing 
the atmosphere all around with a heavy, yet 
sweet stench of lavender and honeysuckle.

The thick odor seduces and encourages the
flower-borne bees, hornets, and yellow-
jackets nearby into a steady rhythm and pulse 
of continuous labor over the pollen-rich 
blossoms and perfumed, colorfully-tinted 
petals. From an adjacent pond the over-
abundant and unsubtle beauty of the 
lily-of-the-valleys add their distinctiveness 
to the already rich and lush floral landscape, 
now teeming with the life and vigor of 
spring in full bloom.


 

Copyright © Ngoc Nguyen | Year Posted 2012

Details | Light Poetry |
In the summer Hot Weather, is the season of expressing the ultimate calamity of days of
unbearable treasure.  The measure of pleasure is fullfill as the season soon turns bitter
cold.  And now we prepare ourselfs for a new-season, a new direction as we get use to the
change in the atmosphere we give respect to the fact that, "Everything is Everything".
That an awsume creator in his infanite wisdom rain comes in all seasons and snow comes
in one season of Winter.  I can remember the fun throwing snowball fights I share with my
brother and sisters and my friends growing up.  The tree's change nothing seem to be the
same. Yes the cold-winter was cold, but they drifted apart, going in their different direc-
tion their shelter of protection is their own choosing, and we soon started our own fam-
ilie's, "still the season, brought on a much appreachable change". In the fall, we pull out 
the rakes and we were given responsibilitie's to keep the yard neat and tiny.  "Everything is
Everything", do you remember a season that you-not remember when you began to change.
Winter, Spring, Summer or Fall all you have to do is call, and I'll be there yes I will cause
you got a friend.  "Why do those moment seem forgotten", WHY... well those moments may-
be found through your kid's and your kid's are the moments you taught them to get up when
they fall.  The season not to walla about everyday crisis is the moments that appears dim
and a season of Uplifting decorum is in all due season.  At every believer's front door and
non believers too, is a season that the creator manifested you to be awear and that you
be the one to take everything to GOD in prayer:  "Just because the weather turns cold
from the season that it was hot", "it rains on the just and the unjust, in all in all don't for-
get that friendship is the bond that glues the reasons to grap the loose change...
In all due season, "Everything is Everything".          
                                                                                     Love too all that keeps the main
                                                                                   thing the main thing!!!.. `Cheryl
                                                                                    doll33` "Everything is Everything"

Copyright © Cheryl Moody | Year Posted 2010

Details | Light Poetry |


There is a magical  yet languid summer hint,
In cupping white- powdered sand
That’s not unlike a warm delight…
Of gently observing a quivered roll
As it wends its way down past grasses ;
On our memorable August coastline
To somewhere new, some place unknown.

And delicate grains, earthy as your breath,
Move through the cylinder of my mind
Bringing back reveries from yesterday…
And pulling us down to a sandbox of dreams
Where I linger   linger  to think of you;
Like summers’ coastline… flowing gently into me.


10/8/2016
Sandbox Contest for Anthony Slausen

Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2016

Details | Light Poetry |
		
		I recall when summer
		Was sitting in the shade
		Drinking icy glasses 
		Of Mama’s lemonade.

		In the magic  summers
		When love was fresh and new;
		Delight of summer evenings		
		Exclusively for two.

		Later on the summers
		Were two weeks at the shore;
		Brushing sand from children
		Wishing days were more.

		Life with all its burdens,
		Halts not for summer’s treasure.
		There no longer is the time
		To taste of summer’s pleasure.

		Summers have grown shorter
		And busier it seems.
		Lazy days of summer
		Are only in my dreams.


Copyright © Joyce Johnson | Year Posted 2013

Details | Prose Poetry |







   REFLECTIONS ON A VIRGINIA SUMMER NIGHT

At the entrance of evening, the melting sun slowly drips
     over the tree top horizon;
Beckoning the moon to peak through the opaque shades
     As lazy winds play tag with the heated night.

The staccato symphony of horny crickets pervade the scene
     Piercing the stoical still silence with melodic sounds.
Weighed eyes and muffled ears grow weary…
     Retreating the scene and its sounds.

Sleep, the stranger of the day, threatens familiarity:
     None can avoid her acquaintance.
Unable to complete, I slip into the twilight of dreams
     Knowing not if I shall greet tomorrow here.

God willing and Earth’s water baptize my eyes, maybe,
     Just maybe, I will rise to fight another day.

So in this twilight dim, I pray my childhood
     Prayer to Him:

   " Now I lay me down to sleep.
    I pray the Lord my soul to keep.
    If I should die before I wake;
   I pray the Lord my soul to take."

Copyright © millard lowe | Year Posted 2015

Details | Prose Poetry |

A few leaves that escaped my rake are skittering across the yard. The wind seems to be playing with them, teasing, a winter bully. December, the fire a comfort. Here I sit, watching the leaves and eating cherries..he brought me cherries. Somewhere it is summer and fruit is ripe and dripping with promise.. Who would have thought it possible? The world small enough that I can taste that bounty and pretend I am dancing under the summer moon..dancing, a red skirt swirling around my legs.. wiping juice from my chin with its hem... Cherries in winter...just imagine.....

Copyright © Barbara Gorelick | Year Posted 2012

Details | Light Poetry |
they walk in suite
that are thin
ask how didn't they get in
its so tight
you see thur right
you can't help but stare
back out and bare
where i live theyer near
those lady
SUMMER BEACH WEAR

Copyright © kurtis scott aka curtis futch jr | Year Posted 2012

Details | Light Poetry |




Welcome summer, gracious morn dazzles
on the harbingers of life sizzling
like August's crimson drape
weaving gloss through a season’s ride…

fluffy,  fluid,  and fiery:

Ambrosial drops of mist upon arms
sashay on tingle of new flings---
youth’s  smiles pressed on melon lips,
heralding the rush of abandon.

If your time is like mine,
steamy as an orange sunset
come then , jiggle with me till city lights
break into thousand strokes
of luster from passion's call
red as evening's  blaze…

ardent, arid, and animated.

Someday when I grow older hairs on alleys
where tinted grass drifts  on reveries;
my bouquets of summer fest will unfurl !



MID-AUGUST PREMIER CONTEST for Brian Strand
Written 8/19/2017




Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2017

Details | Rhyme |
I get up early, a rancher with chores
Hay grows in fields, animals shuffle, roars
Dawn breaks its steel grey grip on my land
And I, well, I have a clear bottle clutched in hand
The first swipe, the one that burns the most
Clears the head, lifts the fog, begins my dose
Work ahead, hours on the grind
A key in my hand, the tractor is mine
Muddy boots climb my ass to my seat
Prepared I am, for this summer heat
A seperate, full bottle in pocket, the engine is turned
Key to the right, another throat tickle burned
Through the gate on into field I find my day anew
View as of now, not quite so askew
The rows start straight, a farmers simple task
They soon grow crooked, I can't find my flask
Fuel runs low, a hassle to refill
Inebriated I find it easy to spill
Unwiser still, I light up a smoke
Finding my way, to field with a toke
Stoned and drunk I arrive at my field
I'll try it again, a little more even keeled
A drunken chuckle to nobody in sight
What a great poem, another forgotten to write
A vision of an old boss, his hatred of me
I laugh, again, to no person I see
He works all day at his nine to five
And I'm drunk on my tractor, happy alive


Copyright © Bic Gi-Sa | Year Posted 2017

Details | Sonnet |
baseball and poetry love them both
just like writing baseball excites me too
and during the recent months they’ve gain growth
love it as much as writing an haiku

can’t wait next month the season will begin
I'm not like others I never played golf
if I’m lucky I’ll catch a Red Sox win
outside of Fenway was a sign for Gulf

besides Poetry Soup may be else where
such as MLB dot com checking scores
I love baseball because it has some flair
as a kid bought cards from many stores

when summer is here I’ll be watching more
wife and I caught a Red Sox Phillies game
and my wife didn’t find the game a bore
but lately the Red Sox have brought us shame

but the new season will be starting soon
enjoy the games even from the saloon

Copyright © Robert Heemstra | Year Posted 2013

Details | Romanticism |
Goodnight my Fair Maiden,
I shall see you once again.
In the year of our Lord,
At the gloomy dawn of Mankind.
As the Red Sun reaches over the treeline,
Far in the East.
I shall see you again.

Don't fear our love,
For my love for you is eternal.
Too see this eternal love
I have for you,
It is hard to feel and very diffcult to see.

When you wake the next morning
and escape your long night of slumber
and your surrealist life,
being played in a cloud of imagination.
You'll soon come to reality 
and find me there.
Knocking upon your chamber door.

Come now!
Get dressed in your evening, silk dress.
and let us go dance under the stars,
till the moon falls to the West and the Sun rises in the East.
Oh, how you are a lovely dancer and how the twilight shines bright
along you shinny and silk laced hair.

And your hair my sweet and fair maiden,
oh, how I love to see it bounce with life
when you twirl and dance into my arms.

You are beautiful and I wish I couldn't leave you,
but as the day turns to night, I have to leave.
I wish I could take you on a long walk through the parks
and courtyards, and walk along the sprinkled streets of the cities filled with life.
Pick you a beautiful bouquet of roses from the gardens of beauty and give them to you
with surprise.

I love you so much
My love for you is indeed hard to tell to you,
but I can show you.
Tomorrow though, for tonight I must say...
Goodnight my Fair Maiden.
For tomorrow you'll be in my arms once again.

Goodnight my Fair Maiden
I shall leave you with a kiss that shall last a lifetime.

Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2013

Details | Prose Poetry |
Are we having fun yet?
I think I’m doing everything right.

The three-hour drive only took four hours.
My postage stamp of beach is
staked out and blanketed.
Soda and Kool-Aid float in
tepid water in the cooler.
Beach towels, bathing suits, balls,
umbrellas, goggles, fins, chips,
hats, sun block, sand toys, lawn chairs,                   
and Solarcaine are near at hand.

I know, you see, because I carried them
across every damn inch of a quarter mile
of burning sand while the kids chased
seagulls and picked Cheetos off the
ground.

Are we having fun yet?

Sand has invaded personal spaces
even my gynecologist hasn’t seen.
My hair has twisted itself into Rasta locks,
saltwater style, and I can actually
see the freckles exploding like popcorn.
I lie down. I open a book. I am promptly surrounded.

“Mommy, it’s hot. We want to go home.”

Are we having fun yet?

Copyright © Mary Oliver Rotman | Year Posted 2015

Details | Light Poetry |
THE YOGI BERRA SONG
    IT AIN'T OVER 'TIL IT'S OVER
One run behind and I'm at bat, 2 are out,
I'll be damned if I don't get a hit.
I tell the catcher I'll be home in a while,
But he grins at me just for a bit.
Holding on first, I can still feel the ball,
But it's wild and I'm safe at first base.
That's where I stay, cause I can still hear it all,
What that chatcher told me right in my face.

It ain't over til it's over.

I tell the umpire to watch out for the man
who's at bat, cause he'll make his own way.
I'm stealing second, though it's not a good plan
cause that catcher hardly misses a play.
I feel the ball and it's faster than me,
But the second baseman's foot is too late.
There comes the call, and I'm as safe as can be,
But on second base, I know I must wait.

It ain't over. It ain't over til it's over.

I hear the hit and it's a good one I know,
it's the winning run, if I go on
Passing by third I'll tie the game if I go
on to home, or the whole game is gone.
I feel the magic, it's the reason I play
and I love coming out from behind!
Home plate is hardly just a leg length away,
But his words keep on nagging my mind!

It ain't over. It ain't over til it's over!
It ain't over. It ain't over til it's over!
You're out! 
Kill the umpire!
It ain't over. It ain't over til it's over!
It ain't over. It ain't over til it's over!
You're out!
It ain't over. It ain't over til it's over!
You're out!
© Ron Wilson aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet
No, if you know your baseball, you will know why
this runner can not score. See notes below if you
don't figure it out.

Copyright © Vee Bdosa | Year Posted 2014

Details | Romanticism |
From the Gardens of Babylon,
to the walkways of Palestina,
to the grand temples of Jerusalism,
to the sandy beaches of Syria and Cyprus.
Went my Persian Queen riding,
upon her golden, firery chariot.

Her black hair, like silk long and flowing.
Her royal robes white and purple, bare and pure.
Her sword by her side, ready to strike.
Her spear fastened, ready to stab the dreeded heart
of the Fire Dragon.
On the firery chariot, riding with her armies,
Went my Perisan Queen.

O, how my arimes fight your armies,
in the midst of night fall, under a full moon.
Let us stop this foolish fighting.
And have fellow brother, love fellow brother.
And so we can fall in love forever.

And don't act like you don't show love for me.
I see you in the dawns, standing upon the sand covered battlefields.
Standing proud behind your armies.
With your black hair flowing.
You almost making me want not to fight the battle of the Day,
for if you were killed, what victory would that be then?

You pull your armies back at the last minute, before I am slayed
by your fellow brother in arms.
You retreat your arimes back over the hills, not in fear of losing the day,
but in fear of losing me.
You and your armies had plenty of chances to kill me, yet you do not.

My Persian Queen, O come now.
Come down from your firery chariot
and into my restless arms.
I know you are tired
and wanting to sleep.

Listen to the nightingale
sing her love song.
Drinking the sweet necture,
from the gardens, in your vase Persian Empire.

Come now, and kiss me,
Hold me, let us ride,
far from the simple minds of the Old World
and fall in love in a New.

My Persian Queen
O how I love you so much.
I cannot bare to see you in a life you don't want to live.
Come let I, your Knight in shinning armour liberate you.
Take you by the hand, run through the great bazzare in Old Istanbul
running away from the Janissaries of your father's Imperial armies.

Let us leave this place of hate and sorrow.
To start our lives a new.
My Persian Queen,
Now dressed in silk lace,
with golden jewlery hanging
from your beautiful and tender neck.
Along with the silver pattened belt around your harmonial waist.

It is time for you, to come with me.
No more shall we act like we dispise one another.
As Romeo and Juliet's love failed,
shall our love take course, and we shall love
till the oceans swallow the earth, the mountains crumble,
and the Sun engulf the sweet Earth.
And on and on shall our love go on,
My adorable and lovely Persian Queen.

Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2013

Details | Verse |
Standing out in a field alone, a little white flower named Daisy longed for someone to share her world.
One day a blue flower named Bachelor Button entered her world they became friends.
 She knew by his name that he was not the propagating kind, but that didn’t stop their relationship she called him BB short for best bud.
The seasons of Spring & Summer they enjoyed the sun, laughed in the rain and held on fast in the Fall.
Winter came it was long and hard they were both covered in a blanket of snow, not knowing whether they would ever see each other again or even survive .The snow fell     then came the ice, this went on for months.

The Sun shone brightly the first day of spring. A few days later warmth of the sun melted the snow, Daisy popped up .
 I’ve been waiting days for you to come out, said BB, they both chanted hooray!
The snow was completely gone in a few days, the birds started building their nests , bugs were crawling around ,butterflies began to visit the two flowers. I wish there were more of us Daisy said, to BB.

They laughed as the sun and wind blew through their leaves.  Then it started the sun and rain took turns until one morning the air & field was filled with the smell of flowers.
 
Daisy and BB looked at each other and asked what kind of flowers are these ? they’re not white like daisies they’re not blue like bachelor buttons. They did not know the birds and bugs carried the seeds from the two of them and the caterpillars buried them under the soil.
The seeds from the new flowers were then carried by the winds many miles away, they landed in fertilized gardens and flourished, although they faced danger everyday. 
as they were called WEEDS ..
 The Gardener pulls weeds out of the garden so they don’t choke the flowers, which cost a lot of money and require lots of maintenance.

However there was a Gardener who saw her friends spending hours weeding their garden , that they didn’t have enough time to admire and enjoy the labors of their love
So she set out to give a home to all the weeds ,she provided a place where they could fit in and multiply, they required no maintenance, rain provides their water .

The best part of all is their beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
 Ask my granddaughter-- What are those flowers in the garden ?
  She will answer "WILDFLOWERS " their parents were Daisy and BB

Copyright © kj force | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |
Every moment I can't see your face;
These are the days and nights when I miss you.
I ask that you stay for always,
On sunny days and when it rains too.

If I speak to another pretty dame,
She's not the flame inside that grows.
In my heart you will remain;
This one thing I'd like you to know.



©2013 Honestly JT
For Skat -Love's "Under 10" Poetry Contest

Copyright © Honestly J.T. | Year Posted 2013

Details | Cinquain |
summer 
hot and humid
running, sleeping, swimming
free time from homework
vacation

Copyright © Cheyenne Graves | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme |
She has so much pain inside of her,
she doesn't know how to address it.
So she turns the pain into anger,
after she explodes, she becomes quiet.

She goes up to her room, upset.
Why does the world hate her so?
She thinks to herself, “That’s it!”
But in reality, it isn't though.

She lies on her bed,
Pulls out her book and reads.
As she turns the pages, she loses her head,
In her mind, she thinks “This is what I need.”

A place to escape the world,
Somewhere she can run.
For it seems everyone hates this girl,
And nothing she does is fun.

She plays her cello 
And loses herself in the music
She does this when she feels low
Then she plays the song of her pick

She listens to the beat she makes,
Trying to make it sound perfect,
But oh, she keeps making mistakes,
She thinks that she will never get it.

She leaves the cello alone
And watches her shows
She then grabs her phone
And tells her best friend the show as it goes.

She leaves the TV on, 
Then she enters her laptop.
She stays on till dawn,
She just can’t seem to stop.

She loves the idea of leaving the real world
And entering an imaginary one.
That’s the story of the girl,
Who is never done.

Copyright © Ana Jusino | Year Posted 2013

Details | Light Poetry |

              When summer comes ..... I want to swim naked in the lake
                  and I want you to be with me ....... come and join ...
                                           it is delicious ...........






18.03.2013
A-L  Andresen :)





              -   I was given a challenge: * A poem in only 25 words
              -   Use the words:              * Summer - Naked - Delicious 
                 
                                       *  like it / not like it :)

Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2013