Long Meadow grass Poems
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If I could live one day again, I'd choose that day so fair
Our walk among the jaded trees, in dappled shade, a blanket spread
You picked among the meadow grass, the flowers for my hair
The earth was fresh with dampened grass, our tender flowered bed
You told me then, that day our love to never more forget
Two hawks, they watched while circling 'round, so high above our heads
We languished there, 'neath faded skies, two hearts with no regrets
The folded clothes, which lie nearby, no words between us said
Your eyes on mine, your hands, your touch, like petals in the wind
But day must end, a bitter cry, like seeking hawk who preys
We gently kissed, as shadows fell, unseen as clouds rolled in
A hawk in flight came swooping down, and carried it away
I turn to you in midnight's dream, with anguished breath I weep
The dream is gone by morning light, while death stalks mine to keep
Resubmitted for Matt Caliri's contest "New Terrains"
I woke up today and found
frost perched on my town.
It hovered in a frozen sky and gobbled summer down.
When the sun turns traitor cold
and shivering trees are standing in a naked row,
I get the urge for going, but I never seem to go.
I get the urge for going when the meadow grass is turning brown.
Summertime is falling down.
Winter's closing in.
I had a girl in summertime with summer colored skin
and not another man in town my darling's heart could win.
When the leaves fell trembling down
and bully winds did rub our faces in the snow,
she got the urge for going and I had to let her go.
She got the urge for going when the meadow grass was turning brown.
Summertime was falling down
and winter was closing in.
The warriors of winter give a cold triumphant shout.
All that stay are dying and all that live are getting out.
Do you see the geese in flight flapping and racing on before the snow?
They have the urge for going and they have the wings to go.
They get the urge for going when the meadow grass is turning brown
and when summertime is falling down,
when winter is closing in.
I'll tend my fire with kindling and draw the blankets to my chin
and I'll lock the vagrant winter out and alter my wandering in.
I'd like to call back summertime and have her stay for just another month or so
but she got the urge for going and I guess she'll have to go.
She got the urge for going when the meadow grass began turning brown.
All her empires are falling down.
Winter's closing in.
Fruitlet is dangling on branches of trees.
Trees’ branches bearing leaves.
Leaves, green, yellow or brown dwindling.
Dwindling due to vicious strong winds raging.
At the tree’s foot, rotten leaves and fruit snooze.
Leaves snoozing dead fertilize the earth.
Earth to receive falling fruit to break.
To break and deliver her stone alive.
Alive, stone will sprout and feed on dead meadow.
Dead meadow grass will fodder fruitlet’s stone.
Stone to spring young from rotten ovary;
Ovary’s filth to produce a clean shrub.
Shrub, cruel humans will chopper.
Chopper to assassinate mother trees.
Mother trees who are the ecosystem.
Ecosystem agonizing human’s vicious attitudes;
Vicious attitudes of us hominids shatter the lot.
Poem by Ndabuli Mugisho
(In the 17th c, many women were falsely accused of being witches. Many were banished, and more were burnt at the stake. Of course, none of them were witches, but due to ignorance and intolerance by so-called educated clergy, the women were falsely accused and condemned to die).
Like black rain over the meadow grass
Crows hover amid cackle and harsh laugh
To feed on seed of tomorrow's harvest
Leaving us all with meager leavings.
There they stood with gowns flapping
Like black wing of flocking crows
Cackling in judgment sober and stern
To deprive us of life and liberty.
Caged in a dungeon cold and dark
Beneath the kirks lofty roof
Without water and our daily bread
Were starved and scared into confession.
With false witness we were condemned
Sentenced before a trial took place
Tied to a stake and burned alive
Our souls travelled into paradise.
On Orkneys verdant green grass,
Graze our kye and our yowes
Since time began has it been thus
Shadows float black in sky above.
If I could live one day again, I'd choose that day so fair
We walked among the jaded trees, in dappled shade, a blanket spread
You found within the meadow grass, some flowers for my hair
Sun warmed a place as fresh as spring, which made a fragrant bed
Our innocence, yet unexplored, held love within its grasp
Your longing eyes, and tender touch, were petals in the wind
Assured we were. How could we know? No words, or questions asked
We languished, blessed by smiling skies, and promises began
But time moves on and days grow short, for springtime fades to gray
We're not so young, the days moved on, and though our autumn's here
With winter near, I feel your love, just as it was that day...
It warms my heart to be assured that love can last the years
Far back in time, with younger face, our future yet untold
My dream awakes, I'm young inside, .....when did we both grow old?
_________________________________________________________
For Brian Strand's Contest #211
You squealed with joy, O' darling child,...
on that autumn day, white-washed with clouds
Your gleeful laughter could be heard
As we traveled through the rolling hills
where farms were scattered, red and brown
Your captured eyes, through the windshield glass
found wheat turned gold, beneath blue skies
And pastures green, where goats that pranced
had caught your glance, with keen surprise
You were entranced, and ......O', so beautiful.
Eyes wide with glee, you begged to stop
The sun broke through the the misty air
With joy and haste, your eager face
pressed tight against the window's glass
As we pulled off near the meadow grass
We slowed our pace....your smiling face....was O'...so beautiful
Quickly out, you scrambled fast
To climb up through the muddy patch
Such chubby legs, you quickly raced
It almost seemed, a playful dream
A sunny day....your rosy face
This time and place was, O'......so beautiful
I remember how the moment passed
You plucked the stems of tallest grass
We followed soon, to lift you high
With chubby hands, right through the wire
White eager faces, their eyes so bright
Your own of blue, they brimmed delight
So very, very beautiful......
My eyes would sting, with tears unshed
My heart could burst with words unsaid
So all I do, is stand and smile
Such beauty on a country mile
One autumn day, to cherish while...
I hold such love my darling child
O' darling child, ...........you are...................so beautiful
No body killed me, in our lives of Odyssey
No body killed me, in our lives of Odyssey - they are no longer to be seen
There are crows in abundance around this balcony- yet, the tired one I knew when Life began
No more- many years before there was a flock of those among plethora of mangoes and plums
Crows to be seen, daylong, throughout, those memory lanes of childhood, serene
Those days are gone by, this world will not remember those days, anymore
Early dawn still to be in blossoming morn, and the bird chirping from the tree branch
Still this day, I am caught up in amazing zeal, rumination
The thought of this occupies me , only this. Where could the old soul be? What could happen?
The river , inundated field, meadow , grass, those are all gone as time took those with. There.
That day, that night, those droplets on hair, after the shower, soggy wet hands
About those trees and fruits and snails and all about those young palms
Those soaked sands, flower adored rural path, steamingly hot bowl of rice
Where all of those gone?- Innumerable numbers crows are noisy soaring high in the sky
Early morning, harvesting morning of today , with a heavy heart and heartache, unknown.
Zephyrs
‘I cannot tell you how it was
But this I know it came to pass.’
Beneath the broad and spreading oak,
Warm zephyrs sighed through meadow grass.
They danced among oak tree’s leaves
And sang a vibrant summer song
Of how we would love and love again
And to each other would belong
They sang among the budding flowers
And told in the ringing chimes
Of how thinkers while away the hours
And of how lovers write in rhymes.
But then they spoke of Autumn’s chill,
When secret mists would hide our way.
How playful spirits toss the leaves
When warm summer fades away.
Then ancient zephyrs breathed a sigh
And left that pleasant summer land.
Now blust’ry winds of Autumn came
And took us by the hand.
Our love was lost in hidden ways
As drifting mists obscured our view
And Autumn spirits tossed our dreams
And left nothing but the dew..
1st two lines are opening lines from
'May' by Christina Rosetti
Barry Stebbings
July 2022
If I could live one day again, I'd choose that day so fair
Our walk among the jaded trees, in dappled shade, a blanket spread
You picked among the meadow grass the flowers for my hair
The earth was fresh with dampened grass, a tender flowered bed
With innocence and tender care, young love within our reach
Such longing eyes, your tender touch, like petals in the wind
The folded clothes, which lie nearby, no words between us said
We languished there beneath blue skies, and promised love began
But time moves on and days grow short, for springtime fades to gray
We're not so young, but still I long, although our autumn's here
With winter near, I feel your love, just as it was that day...
It warms my heart to be assured that love can last the years
Far back in time, with younger face,
Our future was untold
My dream awakes, I'm young inside, .....
When did we both grow old?
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Forever in the wind, the gale, the tempest gone……
though, lingering caress of cheek and thigh remains
as does the precious memory of fires glow.
Winds leavings lesson, shreds the sheets of time’s retreat
and, at last, the snow melts listless in spring’s arms, warm.
Soft breezes tease her auburn hair, she sighs “Oh, love..”
The flames of brash passion bank with his absence,"Love.."
The woodland cottage shutter bang , they say “He’s gone…”
Around her unclad form, he’d wrapped his cloak so warm,
where maiden laid abed within, his sweet scent remains.
The war had come and he must go, he must retreat.
The ripening moon has passed behind the clouds a glow
Yet, deep within a single seed, follows nature’s glow.
The pulse, the heart, the art, of tales, unbridled... love.
No amount of jeers or warnings can bring retreat,
for he is not removed, dismissed, a leaving gone.
See his eyes reflected from the face where she remains?
See the brand he’s placed upon her heart, so warm.
Clarity can not make more clear, the trace of warmth
No prismatic glass can intensify the glow.
The brilliant bloom, the blush, so, it doth remain.
When willow weeps upon the wind, she shan’t for love.
Ne’er lay like Ophelia on the water “He’s gone…….”
A gifting he has left, a grace, in his retreat.
That winter wind which blew the fairest love to his retreat
left empty days and nights of gloom no longer warm.
“Oh, he harried all the dark emotions….gone…….”
and left a different brightness, a face a glow.
Soon, with the fall of maple leaves, she’ll bare his love
and all that matters in this world with thus remain.
A wee bairn will birth from such love and will remain.
Upon bosom blessed, he’ll rest with pain in retreat.
The fairy folk will not receive her dearest love.
The skirt of meadow grass will not his wee frame warm
for her longing has been fulfilled with this child's glow,
the forest god’s and she can see that he ne’er gone.
The bairn remains, his gift, memory unwrapped, warm.
The retreat of fire forces internal glow
for love she’d given all her heart, and he ne’er gone.