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3 of Peaceseaker's Poems
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Autumn Calls...In the Field...Crisp Morning....3 of Peaceseaker's poems recited by Dawn with permission from JB...Music: Love On A Sunday Afternoon kindly provided by Andrew Foyston
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Born Poets is a poetry forum with emphasis on respectful but thorough critique. Until now, we were limited to the written word but it was decided that it would be both helpful and entertaining if we could also hear each other's poems as well as reading them, so we have set up this page for our members who wish to have their poems heard as well as read. It's not impossible that some of the poems will be accompanied by music too, as many of aour mmembers are also musicians. If you like what you hear on this site and want to find out more, please feel free to visit our forum at http://bornpoets.proboards23.com/ If you're a poet yourself and would like to share your works with us and maybe have your poem featured on this page, please feel free to joins us, we always welcome new members. But please bear in mind, this is a critique based forum and whilst our critiques are always friendly, respectful and thoughtful, it's not the place for you if you don't want critique on your poems. But we're a friendly, if slightly mad, bunch and there's always room for one more!
Song Info
Genre
Podcasts Poetry
Charts
Peak #50
Peak in subgenre #12
Author
Peaceseaker/Andrew Foyston
Rights
Peaceseaker(JB)/Andrew Foyston
Uploaded
February 22, 2007
Track Files
MP3
MP3 3.3 MB 128 kbps 3:34
Lyrics
Crisp Morning Crystal lined trees define the dawn, blanket of white, spread wide to the sight. Slow rising sun, with threads of light, fresh crisp air, morning malaise gone. Shutter clicks as the geese take flight, honking, and flapping wings of sound. One might wonder where they are bound, snapshot moments of pure delight. Down a lone road of trodden snow, picturesque thoughts to where it leads. Downy branches; laden trees, all aglow bridge, what a bowing show. ~~~~~ In the Field Cradling her child in a sea of white memories of pain, memories of fright. Getting away from the reigning din, for a little peace from human sin. Comfort of touch; away from harm, dreaming of life, with a little charm. A mother with concerned eyes, child smiles at the warming skies... ~~~~~~ Autumn Calls Autumn begins with soft cool winds sprinkling the ground for crunching sounds. Roll and tumble in red, yellow and gold. Seasoned are the leaves as they burn on curbed streets. Winding road yawns laden with boughs. Wooden planked bridge, with wrinkling water whirls, meandering below. Balmy nights with a full moon seeking to illuminate the dawning loam. Scampering about and tickling ones ears are woodland creatures, looking to nestle down. This season thrills the soul, tantalizing the senses as the winding road of this wondrous season calls. ~~~~~
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