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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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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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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

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Take the Sunshine, Leave the Rain

If I could take my time again
A different thing I'd do;
I'd take the comfort, leave the pain,
I'd take the sunshine, leave the rain,
If only I could start anew.

If I could be another's son
A different path I'd choose;
I'd walk along, I wouldn't run,
I'd leave the sorrow, take the fun,
If only I could re-infuse.

If I could start another hour
A different way I'd go;
I'd take the sweetness, leave the sour,
I'd take the jolly, leave the dour,
If only I could make it so.

If I could live another day
I'd tread a different way;
I'd leave the turmoil, take the calm,
And leave the coarseness, take the charm,
If I could take my time again...
I'd take the sunshine, leave the rain.

                        Alan S Jeeves

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

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

Details | Alan Jeeves Poem

Wordsworth's Daffodils

Far away over meadows, fields and hills
Or through oak woodland which is ever sweet;
Seeking out Wordsworth's golden daffodils.

Early morning, amid the dewy chills
Where a dawn kissed grassland moistens the feet
Far away over meadows, fields and hills.

A perfumed carpet your raw sense it fills
A yellow trumpeted aspect replete
Seeking out Wordsworth's golden daffodils.

And by the noon, as mid-day sunlight spills,
I wander onward down a floral street
Far away over meadows, fields and hills.

By farmstead ruins and old water mills
Where sheep now dwell and brightly bleat and eat,
Seeking out Wordsworth's golden daffodils.

So, the land where the poet whet his skills
I walk at springtime in nature's elite.
Far away over meadows, fields and hills
Seeking out Wordsworth's golden daffodils.

                                       Alan S Jeeves

Copyright © Alan Jeeves | Year Posted 2022

Details | Alan Jeeves Poem

Rye Whiskey, Rye Whiskey

Snug in the corner I saw the lad lie,
Fire in his belly, a cork in his eye;
And wordlessly sleeping, a-snooze in his bed,
His words, when awakened, go straight to your head.

Alluring to look at, golden is he,
There when you need him as sure as can be;
And anxious to aid you, he doesn't think twice,
The cost of his concert, your soul is the price.

Then, tell him to go now, bid him goodbye;
Leave him to slumber, let sleeping dogs lie!
Tell him his concord you are shooing away,
The lad with the nostrum may no longer stay.

Well! time he was leaving so, show him the door!
A flagon of whiskey a-smash on the floor.

Copyright © Alan Jeeves | Year Posted 2022

Details | Alan Jeeves Poem

The Cooling Cloudburst

As lightning brights the meadow
And thunder dulls the air;
I feel it still,
A stormy chill,
An aura everywhere.

I wander o'er the pathway
And paddle through the rain;
My bootheels squash
The squelchy wash
Along the puddled lane.

My face refreshed with teardrops
The clouds have wept from high;
They gently wet
My eyes, and yet,
They barely seem to cry.

I dance on midst the moisture
The hail sends down to earth;
I sense the beat
Beneath my feet
And sing for all I'm worth.

But then the fulgid sunlight
Warms the land once more;
I'm home to you
As I step through
A rainbow's archwayed door.

Copyright © Alan Jeeves | Year Posted 2022

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