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faithfulpadfoot Jan 2017
It's on days like these,
When the sky is a cloud,
That I wish I could sit
For a bit
In the sky-
And watch from a cloud
How the days go by;
How the world goes round,
And why people die.
It wouldn't be easy
Amongst all the chaos
To find any meaning
Or reason or rhyme.
Perhaps that is why
I decide to write poems;
My words all have meaning
And some of them rhyme!
Silly little poem about meaninglessness
Scarlet Niamh Jan 2017
They say you are a rainbow, that you need
that lost beauty which cascades down in the
winter winds to reveal you. They say a
smattering of colour sprayed on the horizon,
which can be seen even on the clearest
of mornings, cannot be true, or have any
sense of clarity. They say that without
the rain, you would be dulled and colourless,
but I do not think you need the thunderous
awakening of the clouds to brighten my sky.
~~ For you, Grace. ~~
When morose cloud mourns
why it showers heavy rains
it sheds tears of melancholy
to me why it hurts and pains

when the uncle sun is furious
why it excretes red fireballs
its heat scorches all creators
every one prays for rainfalls

when stars glimmer in darkness
why their smile is so ecstatic
avid children behold them fervently
since naughty smile is so fantastic

when aunt moon shines at night
why it strews hue of its moonlight
cosmos is enthusiastic to shower
and enjoys an amazing delight

when the flowers bloom in valley
why they tempt with its fragrance
all creatures dance enthusiastically
and adore its eternal perseverance

when bumble-bee kisses a flower
it falls in love and gathers honey
then jocular bumble-bee flies away
but their love story is so funny

when nature has blessed us all
with so beautiful and catchy gifts
why it happens that human life
takes so many turns and twists

(By Kishan Negi)
we need to love the nqture of god
'Coz everyday
I die another day,
With moments
*C  l  o  u  d  i  n  g     b  y .
Jami Samson Jun 2013
I was walking on air this dawn.
We danced all around the lawn.
We were as wild and as free as a fawn.
Our bodies wiggled like a prawn;
And smiles on our faces were drawn,
With the feeling as if we won.

I was walking on air this morning.
Our laughs sounded better than a bell's ding,
And our voices were louder than a phone's ring.
We held our heads up like a king,
While our restless hearts sing.
And I wouldn't change a thing.

I was walking on air this afternoon.
You got me grinning like a new moon.
Like a flower, my cheeks bloom.
I didn't ever want to go back to my room,
And wished the moment wouldn't zoom.
I'd have given everything not to make it end too soon.

I am walking on air tonight.
It's all too dark but it still seems so bright,
For the bliss in our eyes has light
And no darkness can ever block my sight.
This ecstasy we couldn't fight
Will forever bind us tight.
#12, 2011
Alan S Bailey Nov 2016
They forget pain, forget sorrow,
Then live in the dark, pluck hairs,
For that perfect look of tomorrow,
They sick their dog on the poor, the immigrant,
The downtrodden, the scapegoated. They give no
Honest time to what the less fortunate have in store,
They continue to work themselves for many an hour,
Pick up where they left off happy and content,
That all who oppose them will lose any help
In bringing them down from their cloud of power,
Then they take whatever they were after, laugh,
Chop off any hand or cut off that which "offends,"
That stands in the way and slows them down,
They will get what they are after and be the
Most "handy helpers" helping themselves around.
T E Pyrus Oct 2016
Tell me a story, traveller,

of unwalked roads you walked alone
beneath the blue and sunlit sky,
paved with earth or cobblestone
and straying clouds that wander by.

of strange lands and stranger folks
and strange songs they sang with you,
in strange tongues they call their home,
that, in your dreams, was somewhere new.

of temporary loves you loved,
then set your broken lovers free,
and healed your broken, heartless soul
beneath the starry sky and sea.

of darkened woods and foreign sound
that haunt the night-time every night.
of moons that follow footsteps quiet
and stars that watch in silent light.

of stormy nights and thunderclouds
that failed to bring your childish fears,
and drowning rain that drowned the winds
and brought you melancholic tears.

of snowy golden sunsets high
on mountain sides, ragged and old
and tears of wonder, tears of joy,
love of stories left untold.

of rivers running swiftly by
your resting sleep ere break of day.
of twilights that blanket the sky
and sweep the orange clouds away.

of lost lanterns and memories
and aimless wandering in the night.
of faraway towns of scattered starry
homes so warm and hearts so bright.

of lone camp-fires’ dancing songs
and lonely faded quiet applause.
of longing and of selfish pain,
of losing love and loving loss.

Tell me a story, traveller,
of reminiscing in grateful shade,
and of your final travel home
before your loving memories fade.
AMcQ Oct 2016
The sun projects a cross on the window blind.
A heavenly body skirting around the man-made.
The lines are perfection, though moving slowly.
Both silhouette and fire are facing each other;
Dancing clockwise,

Never to embrace.
Debra Lea Ryan Oct 2016
Everyday there is  New Sky
With Cloud Adornments
Where Thunder  may Choose to Speak
Or Rain  Decides it will Tumble Down

Sun may Shine and Hide
In a patch of Blue
Or  burst  Cloud
With Rainbows

Comes Nightfall
Near or Far
A Symphony of Stars
And a Moon of many Phases

24/7
I LOVE the Heavens
And all the Treasures
To Eye Spy.




DLR
19/10/2016
A Work In Progress....
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