My Poems ~ Others poems

The Wind

flickr.com

I saw you toss the kites on high
And blow the birds about the sky;
And all around I heard you pass,
Like ladies’ skirts across the grass–
O wind, a-blowing all day long,
O wind, that sings so loud a song!


I saw the different things you did,
But always you yourself you hid.
I felt you push, I heard you call,
I could not see yourself at all–
O wind, a-blowing all day long,
O wind, that sings so loud a song!


O you that are so strong and cold,
O blower, are you young or old?
Are you a beast of field and tree,
Or just a stronger child than me?
O wind
, a-blowing all day long,
O wind, that sings so loud a song!

Robert Louis Stevenson

My Poems ~ Others poems

Farewell To The Farm

The coach is at the door at last;
The eager children, mounting fast
And kissing hands, in chorus sing:
Good-bye, good-bye, to everything!

To house and garden, field and lawn,
The meadow-gates we swang upon,
To pump and stable, tree and swing,
Good-bye, good-bye, to everything!

And fare you well for evermore,
O ladder at the hayloft door,
O hayloft where the cobwebs cling,
Good-bye, good-bye, to everything!

Crack goes the whip, and off we go;
The trees and houses smaller grow;
Last, round the woody turn we sing:
Good-bye, good-bye, to everything!

by Robert Louis Stevensons

When I was six my two older brothers and I lived in a big old farm house. It had a chicken coop filled with chicks and a rooster. We also had two huge pigs, one Irish Setter and a couple of cats. At summer’s end my parents, aunt and uncle and us three kids actually went out in a big wagon with side boards that had clamps holding pitch forks and we gathered up cut down hay from the fields, piled it up in the wagon, brought it to the barn and loaded it up in the second level of the barn up to the rafters. 

When the work was done my parents would place a large pile of hay on the ground right under the small open door in the top of the barn. When the day was at end, the wagon was empty, and the grown ups were tired, thirsty, and hungry, they left us to play. Our playing was climbing up the ladder and jumping out the small door and landing on the pile of hay on the ground, repeating this action over and over until it got dark or mom called us in

Image:https://www.appalachianhistory.net/2021/04/the-vanished-community-of-lost-cove.html

My Poems ~ Others poems

What is a Friend ?

What is a friend, a confidant, a shoulder to cry on?

An ear to listen, a heart to feel?

A friend is all of these and more.

No matter where we met, or how long we’ve been together, I call you friend.

A word so small, yet so large in feeling.

A word filled with emotion, a word overflowing with love.

It is a constant book always waiting to be read and enjoyed.

Once the book of friendship has been opened, it can never be closed.

Friendships are foundations, necessary for life and love.

Friends you and me.

You brought another friend and then we were three.

We started our group, our circle of friends,

There is no beginning, there is no end.

~ Author Unknown ~

Image:Pinterest

My Poems ~ Others poems

Kitchens

A HOME IS MADE OF MANY ROOMS
TO REST, TO SLEEP, TO SHOWER
TO PLAY, AND READ, AND TALK A LOT,
DO HOBBIES BY THE HOUR

BUT THE KITCHEN, AH, THE KITCHEN
IS A ROOM THAT’S MADE OF DREAMS
OF FANTASIES…CREATED BY
A LOVE OF COOKING SCHEMES

TO TOUCH, TO SMELL, TO VISUALIZE
THE WONDERS THAT OCCUR…
AND THEN TO TASTE, AND THEN TO TASTE
RESULTS OF THINGS THAT WERE

AT ONE TIME JUST “INGREDIENTS,”
IN THEIR PLACES ON THE SHELVES
BUT BECOME A WONDROUS MIXTURE
AS THOUGH TRANSFORMED BY ELVES

YES, A HOME IS MADE OF MANY ROOMS
EACH ONE HAS IT’S PLEASURES
BUT THE KITCHEN IS THE BEST OF ALL
FOR FINDING HIDDEN TREASURES

Author: unknown

Found on hidlesundet.blogspot.no

My Poems ~ Others poems

Teddy Bear

Teddy Bear

If I told you, “I think you’re pretty”
Would you love me and never let go
Would you sew my button back on
Please sit down and tell me so
If I told you that I love you
Would you hold me so tight
That stuffing would come out of me
And fluff me up at night
If I told you nothing at all
Would you still gaze upon my face
Throughout darkness and over time
In a lover’s warm embrace
If I told you, “I’ll go a great distance”
Would you follow me without a care
Or, should I stay right beside you
And be your great big teddy bear

Image: Pinteres

Poem :Author Unknown

My Poems ~ Others poems

AFTERNOON IN FEBRUARY

Image Found on Pinterest
The day is ending,
The night is descending;
The marsh is frozen,
The river dead.

Through clouds like ashes
The red sun flashes
On village windows
That glimmer red.

The snow recommences;
The buried fences
Mark no longer
The road o'er the plain;

While through the meadows,
Like fearful shadows,
Slowly passes
A funeral train.

The bell is pealing,
And every feeling
Within me responds
To the dismal knell;

Shadows are trailing,
My heart is bewailing
And tolling within
Like a funeral bell.

by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow was a Harvard scholar versed in several European languages. He was heavily influenced by Romanticism and made a name as a poet and novelist with works like HyperionEvangelinePoems on Slavery and The Song of Hiawatha. He was also known for his translation of Dante’s The Divine Comedy

https://www.biography.com/writer/henry-wadsworth-longfello

My Poems ~ Others poems

FALLING SNOW

Highway Department - Village of Lloyd Harbor
See the pretty snowflakes,
Falling from the sky;
On the wall and housetops,
Soft and thick they lie. On the window ledges,
On the branches bare;
Now how fast they gather,
Filling all the air. Look into the garden,
Where the grass was green;
Covered by the snowflakes,
Not a blade is seen. Now the bare black bushes, All look soft and white,
Every twig is laden,  What a pretty sight!

Author: Caitlyn Turner image:https://www.primogif.com/p/RWJPtq90qOA4E

My Poems ~ Others poems

Winter

“I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields, that it kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says “Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again.”

by Lewis Carroll

“Winter is the time for comfort, for good food and warmth, for the touch of a friendly hand and for a talk beside the fire: it is the time for home.”

by Edith Sitwell

“Thank goodness for the first snow, it was a reminder–no matter how old you became and how much you’d seen, things could still be new if you were willing to believe they still mattered.”

by Candace Bushnell