Last Commented Ode Poems (274)

In awesome wonder, bemused with naive gaze,
glanced I, upon the garden's flower'd sprays,
keen of eye, gathered there upon a wondrous spree,
enhanced by filtered shades of nearby protective tree,
exhibiting splendour by Nature's woven braid,
Zephyr kissed, where dancing breezes played
from Dawn's soft light,'til eve's fired close,
weaves coloured sweet, a bouquet of repose,

Blessed quietude, abounds my garden here,
akin to infant innocence, happy smiles spun dear,
each flowered season here I joyous spend,
ne'er to question, man's questions of why or when,
cloistered hours, its sacred aura breathing know,
humble adoration amid plants that nature sow,
mocks human society, oft, course low and rude,
thus my sanctuary, found amid this flowered solitude,

Oft have I, Summer bathed amid a velvet carpet green,
my honoured eyes, have, in silent blushing wonders seen,
Yet methinks, how brazen lovers would the oceans tame,
with profanities pomp, and for posterity carve their name
thoughtless, upon the bark of some proud tree,
weave conceited hope, the world their name to see
as loose lipped devotion, temporarily to be found,
highlight fragility, proud tree alone the world astound.

Sleep well my infant dear, gently rest
in your new world bathed with heavenly light;
Whilst I, with oceanic tears my grief invest,
for my infant dear, live in spheres of endless night,

Pray I therefor, your eyes grace a differing day,
annulling pain, which each earthy day did pass,
sad aching arms that once the loving breast did lay,
that unquestionable love, wherein the Motherly heart amass,

Thus, heart torn and wrenched, alone in morbid solitude,
empty the yearning arms, relegated to despondent shade,
wet the woeful eyes, yet love's vision still intrude,
for betwixt us both, corridors shall ne'er be slayed,

Nurtured I, your all too shorter days, sanctified no less
though sadly brief, lovingly proud, I happy bore
thee to my breast, my whole being did so address,
yet now in grief, wished that I could have done more,

I, in fruitful sorrow still your passing pine,
for our hopes and what might have been,
to daily watch the rich progression of the vine
amid the fields of life bathed in youthful green.

Mândra me-i frumoasa tare,
Saman pe lume nu are,
Ochisorii - ca saninul,
Obrajori - ca trandafirul.

Când o vad trecând prin sat, mai,
Da' ma topesc de dor si drag, mai.

Dimineata cânta cucul,
si eu ma pornesc la lucru,
Mândra, cu galeata-n mâna,
Scoate apa din fântâna.

Soare arde ca focul,
Da' eu de dor nu-mi gasesc locul.

Ma opresc sa-i dau bineata
si s-o strâng oleaca-n brata,
S-o mângâi cu vorbe bune,
Ce nu le-am mai zâs la nime'.

S-o sarut macar oleaca,
Da' sa stie cât mi-e de draga.

Pâna seara-i vreme multa,
Da' si-o sarut ca sa-mi ajunga.

My woman is the most beautiful
Beside her no other doth compare
Her eyes are the color of heaven
Her cheeks the color of the rose

As I see her walk through my town
I am sighing and pining from love

The cuckoo's song heralds the day
As I begin the work at hand
My woman proceeds to draw water
With her pail from the well

The sun with its burning fire
Drives me insane with crazy love

My attention is given to her
Followed by a sentimental embrace
And sincere words from the heart
That simply needed to be said

Its my resolve to kiss her often
To show my love for her is true

I cannot wait til evening falls again
For now that kiss is my vow of love.

I gave my heart to a woman,
I gave it to her, branch and root
She bruised it, she wrung it, she tortured it she cast it underfoot

Under her feet she trampled it where it fell
Broken into shards , all apart and nothing to add

There is rain in the sunshine once again my heart mends
From your mouth to my ears you whisper whisper.....
Time went by, I mended I looked for the sunshine in the rain
It lays in my breast beating for a sweet whisper from your lips to mine

The night was perfect for a bonfire gathering
Many good friends to join this magical happening
Time standing still in lost coolness of autumn glowing
Tethered to the warmth of blustery winds a blowing
In the early dawn of light planning for the fire begins
Like the morning holy prayers of solemn matins

Approaching you could smell the cows faraway and distant
Mingled with the wood burning the aroma was persistent
Food was sat among tables arranged around the trees
Receiving their share were the flies and bees
Buzzing a melodic pitch of tonic accent
Apropos for this outdoor content

The building of the bonfire is a true art form
Tree limbs stacked in meticulous order one by one
Enticing flames to rise in heights and dance like spirits
Filling the night with fellowship among the hot smoky orbits
Reflecting through the stars blazing flames leaping without care
As eyes sparkled and the heat warmed our faces in the night air

Grass fed meat cooked ceremoniously over the billowing fire
A picture emerges of feasting in a forgotten medieval empire
Friends together chatting under the warm dark skies above
Laughter in the air while souls touch in neighborly love
That need no assistance from extraneous luminaire’
While the brisk winds blew through our hair

Many life’s lessons were told one by one
Mixed with different views and opinions spun
The Bonfire climbs higher holding us in rapture
While mingling with the scents, chatter and laughter
All the wood if free to gather in the forests there’s no quota
This is the life of Bonfire gatherings with friends in Minnesota
Should strangers see the billowing smoke, stopping by to inquire
They’ll be welcomed as friends and asked to join the circle
To share with us the comforting warmth
of the blazing Bonfire

What can I give to You,
for all you've done for me?
You have shown your love for me
in so many ways
That I've been too blind to see
And sometimes when I seem to forget,
just how much You love me
Remind me Lord lest I forget.
Just saying "I love you"
Does not seem to be enough
But Lord I thank you most of all
For what You mean to me
You have answered all my prayers
and made all my dreams come true
And this is just my way of saying
"Lord I thank You".

When the Heart Wants What It Can't Have
A fool in love will follow his heart.
Be still your hearts, friends! . . . "Love to me is someone telling me, 'I want to be with you for the rest of my life, and if you needed me to I'd jump out of a . . . "The heart wants what it wants.
When the Heart Wants What It Can't Have
Her brown eyes always find a way to pierce me straight through the heart. . . . I want to pull her near me when we are dancing; only because I don't want anyone else to claim her for themselves. It's not. .

tears fall down my face
I feel cold and empty in this lonely place
it's hard to explain how I feel
I don't want things to go down hill
right now I feel like I can cry
and I hav eno idea why
how I miss the warmth of your arms
and listening to your sweet charms
I can say I truely miss you
and will always love you too
at times when I need to make the right choice
I close me eyes and can hear your wonderful voice
when thingsfor me go wrong
your love helps me stay strong
you were sent from above to be my guardian angel
I know that is so real when things for me fall apart
your love is strong in my heart
I miss you so very much
and the gentlw feel of your touch
Mom I love you and miss you so much

Midnight twigs cored the birch
illuminating wooded church.
In solem thought I wondered not
the chill of Winter's glow.
And never did a coldness in my bones I feel
I never felt the wind.
Taut sheets of icy snow
Sliced in two trees
that would not move
Through spiralling cones of snow,
pirouettes in polar air
I snared the glare of Wolfe n's stare
My wooded church his sacred lair
Through assure eyes my life did pass
When came the leap of lunging cur,
With rippling folds of downey fur
Then a lashing wind,
echoing notes from arequims hymn
Distant bays, like chanting prayers
Easing the glare of the watchman's stare

A November Conversation

"Leafless tree, gray and bare as your mood, you arms thin and frail,

somehow you manage a majestic stance in your loft, as you extend a

crooked limb to warn me of advancing snows.

And with a gust of wind, four limbs, a palm, brush across what seems

to be an ear.

Do you hear the crackle of the upcoming ice or the moaning of a pack

of wolves along a distant timber trail?

You hold no shelter now for your winged friends. Does this make you lonely?

No squirrel now to tickle your back, that scratch that makes you laugh

and shakes your leaves without a single breeze.

And that melody you sing, with your gold coin leaves as they shimmer

from Autumn's breeze, is silent now.

Soon I will see your coat, white, with sleeves of ice.

And I, shivering in the sleet, with skins to keep me warm, will wonder

as you do not make a sound

with your bare feet on the ground.

We speak of these November things, you and I, as each year

rolls around.

You learn of my attention to your roll upon this earth.

And I learn, of all the seasons,

November breeds your worth.