Nature's gems - Hello Poetry

Nov 2016

beth fwoah dream boleyn

leaves drifting
down dark lanes
that curve where the stream
dreams of the soft blues
of a sky that melts with
forgotten passions
and the greyer mists
of day dream
and the clouds
with their moods
of the wind and
their fields of
air, drift until
the sky winds
its streams of blue.

Nov 2016

Ramin Ara

Nature

Waterfall
Unceasing rain
To a view
Of azure lake
A few waterfowls
Nature is speaking
To us ...

Nov 2016

Pradip Chattopadhyay

When we were eighteen

When we were eighteen
sang the three women in chorus
and the bus burst into Spring.

When we were eighteen
they giggled and sang

the bus was a garden
the seats swings in the wind
the passengers angels and fairies

When we were eighteen
sang the three women
men beamed and the women blushed
as they broke into chorus
when we were eighteen

the ride was free
and they all stood up
their bones bellowing the chorus
their skin shining in the Spring

the child grew into eighteen
the old descended into that golden year
never knowing when their stoppage came
when one after the other they got down
and again it was a bus on the road
but with the whiff of Spring
eternal in the crimson blush
of the sun setting and rising
its engine and axle and tyres whirring in chorus
when we were eighteen

Nov 2016

Maggie Emmett

October in Swallowfield

Harsh wind screaming
moaning
with the crisp bite of Autumn night

Dark shadows dancing
tossing
with the branches of bare grey Elms

The lanes are winding
uncurling
in the pale orange glow of headlights

Sudden hedgerows
green
edging the limits of the night

Power-cut darkness all around
silhouettes
strange in the headlight beam

No farm lights distant on the Tor
guiding
beacons of open field and place

Cottages shuddering their thatching
thrilled
chimneys smoking message-morse

Pub signs banging wildly
flapping
in a crazy dance
inside candles flickering
distorted
patterns in tiny panes of rounded glass

Old stone steeple steady
dull toned bell
catching
a ride on the wind to the copse

And still the lanes thread out
beam-born
a ribbon of pebbles and stone
stretching into the night
until they melt
into the flat black tarmac
of the motorway.

A poem written about Swallowfield, Berkshire

#autumn #season #wind #countryside #northern #hemisphere

Nov 2016

Amethyst Fyre

Butterflies

The lines are spray painted on the field
The track loops back in on itself

We're running for gym class

Look it's a butterfly! I say
It follows me around the circle

My friends barely glance at it
But I see them every time
The orange and black one
the small white ones that chase each other
I see them every time

I can't take my eyes away
Tracing their paths higher and higher
Until finally they wink off into the distance

I've heard that butterflies are the souls of the dead come back to play
I've heard they are a symbol of innocence or of rebirth

But to me,
all they are is free.

#wish #free #innocence

Nov 2016

Valsa George

Give Me

Give me
new morns of splendid sunshine
and clear blue skies with soft wind
humming sweetly to the timeless rhythm

Give me
fresh air with gentle whispering of breeze
to be kissed passionately and tickled playfully

Give me
quiet days sans the bustle of hectic crowds
each promising new wonders and joyous tidings

Give me
country sides with luxuriant vegetation
and rich plantation to feel partitioned off
the soot and dirt of roaring cities

     **Give me
     woodlands of varied flora and fauna
so rare and rich that nowhere else are seen

Give me
gardens and brick laid pavements
where there grow such lovely blooms, nodding amorous
to flirting dandies on colorful wings

Give me
running brooks and rushing streams
upon whose fertile banks tall trees and bushes green,
in singles and files grow

Give me
orchards, beautiful and fair
with fruit laden trees, so wonderful and rare

Give me
vast fields of ripening corn and paddy
where farmers joyfully gather to harvest their year’s toil

Give me
vineyards of trellised vine
with hanging clusters of grapes, green and maroon

Give me
ponds and wells of crystalline water
to quench the thirst and turn fallows into fecund lands

Give me
woods and forest tracks
where spring lingers all the year round and beyond
where birds on tree tops merrily sit and sing
whose harmonious notes in every nook and corner ring

Oh! Give me
     Nature in all ‘its primal sanities’
And souls with nicety of hearts, free of all affectations!!

Inspired by Walt Whitman's poem Give me the Splendid, Silent Sun!

Nov 2016

beth fwoah dream boleyn

golds sink down

golds sink down
the sky strange magics
miraculous the bridges
of leaves under October’s
wintry dusks calm and at rest
russet and purple the
trees yearn for the darks
of a retreating world
each leaf falling forever
each leaf a ghost
of hidden centuries
where the night’s eternal
stars wait, beautiful
in the perfections of the sky.

autumn moods