Day and Night
Through my heart's palace Thoughts unnumbered throng;
And there, most quiet and, as a child, most wise,
High-throned you sit, and gracious. All day long
Great Hopes gold-armoured, jester Fantasies,
And pilgrim Dreams, and little beggar Sighs,
Bow to your benediction, go their way.
And the grave jewelled courtier Memories
Worship and love and tend you, all the day.
But when I sleep, and all my thoughts go straying,
When the high session of the day is ended,
And darkness comes; then, with the waning light,
By lilied maidens on your way attended,
Proud from the wonted throne, superbly swaying,
You, like a queen, pass out into the night.
poem by Rupert Brooke
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Related quotes
My Thoughts
Thought in the eyes,
The ears.
Thought in mind,
The brain,
Thought in heart,
The soul.
Great thought is great
when it becomes great deeds.
With my thoughts within
Building my world within
Learning with thought;
Is great learning wisdom.
Learning without thought,
Is opportunity lost.
Thought for others
Thought for God
Thought for good
Thought for God’s blessing
Thoughts teach me,
Thoughts educate me,
Thoughts clarify me,
Thoughts enlighten me.
Thoughts make me wise
Thoughts make me patience
Thoughts make me trust others
Thoughts make me clam.
Thoughts before act
Is smart and wise
Act before thoughts
Is stupid and foolish
That’s my thoughts
They make thinking clear
They make belief deepen
They make confidence high.
In thoughts, my world
In my world, make my thoughts.
In thoughts, my words
In my words, make my speech
It’s my thoughts count
Counting my thoughts
To endless counting thoughts
Thinking the thoughts endlessly
My thoughts and thoughts again.
poem by Lawrence Hiung
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rainbows Are Forever
Oh beautiful rainbow within my sight
As I gaze upon your graceful colors so bright,
I wonder whose dreams
Upon you have cast your riches of light
In hopes that your path leads down within my heart
For here I keep your dish of gracious gold,
Entrusted with the love of one I dearly want to hold.
So hear me rainbow,
As my thoughts you can see
Shine on her aura so my love she can see
Light her day with a smile from thee,
And make sure she knows it’s from me.
Written in 1979
poem by F.L. Racca Sr.
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Myriad Thoughts
I sit here in myriad thoughts
dancing around my head
too fed up to put them to bed.
Thoughts of the past,
thoughts of the future too,
thoughts of things this and that
and thoughts of what to do.
Memories invade at times
of pastures long gone by
as the myriad thoughts
fill my mind with anger and with love
and times; I wish I could have lingered with
when my years were young.
Things pass in phases,
hearts entwine then fall apart,
seasons readily appear,
stay awhile and then depart.
Here I sit in a lonely waste
thinking thoughts of what might have been
if the crystal ball I look into had only seen.
Now the myriad thoughts appear
to haunt me in quiet times
and carry me to distant places
the world has left behind.
Those little specks of moments
that still linger from the past
that lay waiting to capture me
before the quiet time has passed.
28 November 2009
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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High On You
Pop
I like your wooden door, baby
I never want to leave, baby
If I could rule the night, baby
Id turn it into white
There wouldnt _? _
Im getting high on you
Im getting high on you
Im getting high on you
High on you
I like your rugged cross, baby
I dont pray in churches, baby
I got nowhere to worship, baby
Because it isnt him
I dont need a _? _ man
Im getting high on you
Im getting high on you
Im getting high on you
High on you
Terrorist in my heart
Tearin it all apart
Terrorist in my heart
Tearin it all apart
I love the way you feel, baby
The mornin startin drunk, baby
Drinking of your soul, baby
And everything I know
Digs the way your body glows
Im getting high on you
Im getting high on you
Im getting high on you
High on you
Im getting high on you
Im getting high on you
Im getting high on you
Im getting high
Corrupting in the air
I really need you
You got two play rides
I really love them
My were getting high
Are we getting high
song performed by by Iggy Pop
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Wayward Rose
Mischievous rose from the rose-tree swaying,
Can I not bind thee nor hold thee?
Can I not weave thee nor fold thee
In with thy sisters to staying?
Vain is my passion or praying,
Rose from the rose-tree swaying.
Wayward sweet rose from the rose-tree swinging,
Can I not pass thee, forget thee?
Can I not see to regret thee?
In—'mid thy kindred's close ringing,
Out—to my heart she comes winging,
Rose from the rose-tree swinging.
Cruel red rose from the rose-tree swaying,
Ever to worship thee, throne thee,
Never to lose thee or own thee,
Thy beauty to keep me from straying,
Thy thorns for my passionate praying,
Rose from the rose-tree swaying.
poem by Dora Sigerson Shorter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Rivers
GO! trace th' unnumbered streams, o'er earth
That wind their devious course,
That draw from Alpine heights their birth,
Deep vale, or cavern source.
Some by majestic cities glide,
Proud scenes of man's renown,
Some lead their solitary tide,
Where pathless forests frown.
Some calmly roll in golden sands,
Where Afric's deserts lie;
Or spread, to clothe rejoicing lands
With rich fertility.
These bear the bark, whose stately sail
Exulting seems to swell;
While these, scarce rippled by a gale,
Sleep in the lonely dell.
Yet on, alike, though swift or slow
Their various waves may sweep,
Through cities or through shades they flow
To the same boundless deep.
Oh! thus, whate'er our path of life,
Through sunshine or through gloom,
Through scenes of quiet or of strife,
Its end is still the tomb.
The chief, whose mighty deeds we hail,
The monarch throned on high,
The peasant in his native vale,
All journey on–to die!
But if Thy guardian care, my God!
The pilgrim's course attend,
I will not fear the dark abode,
To which my footsteps bend.
For thence thine all-redeeming Son,
Who died, the world to save,
In light, in triumph, rose, and won
The victory from the grave!
poem by Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Thoughts and Visions
Thoughts and visions pass my way
in the twilight of my years.
I hold tightly to all of them
and try to hold back tears.
I long for them to never leave
and escape my memory.
I take great pleasure in them all
and never want to be
unable to keep them tucked away
and faced with vacant space.
Thoughts and visions are what I need.
They're like a warm embrace.
Memories of days that brought me you
and love was there for the taking.
Memories of nights that lingered
when love was in the making.
Memories of birthing both my sons
and experiencing the pain of joy.
Memories of the lyrical sounds
that were infused inside my soul.
And memories of sun filled days
to take away the cold.
I could go on and on with these
as my years do pass.
And express my thanks for all of them
and pray they always last.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Something Found in the Night
Breezy brush strokes
Ink blotch tree tops
slick oil spill foliage
surreal nightsky canvass
abandoned cricket chirp haze
luminary midnight
phosphorescent corner street light
silver-back vagabond
bitter brown bag delight
swaying strands of electric sable
high-wire communication circus
tire track tentacles of rubber eels
Commercial patriot; silver signals from above
piloting visions in the clouds
sweet sky cabin dreams
oh woe,
I lose so many things during the night:
words, stanzas, hours,
time, sleep, thoughts,
memories, worries, consciousness
I seem to only tire in my sleep
I only rest when in dream
my dreams are pictures of poetry
poem by Gregory Allen Uhan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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At Deaths Door
When they have a short time to live
And you’ve given all you can give.
When there s nothing more you can do.
Then you make the last days of their lives
Seem like it’s been paradise.
Show all the love that you’ve had locked up inside
This is something that you should not hide.
Bring up happy memories of times
gone by, and of moments shared.
These are things in their mind that last.
Make their lives as comfortable as can be
For this is the last thing that they will see.
For some it is not easy to pass to the other side
Because fear makes them blind.
But it is a place of love and light
They will not see the darkness of night.
Don’t show your love when they are dead
Show your love while they’re lying in that bed.
They need to be loved while they’re here on earth
This is what we crave from our birth.
If the brain still functions on its own
Then so does the heart.
And from you they do not wish to part.
They are thinking the same as you
When they’re gone, what are you going to do.
Any bills that may be left behind
On your shoulders they will climb.
these same thoughts may race through
Your head, and it’s something that you both do dread.
But these are the first thoughts that
Should be put into that grave
Give them happy memories that they can save.
Let them go to the other side comfortably
And on their face- that smile you’ll see.
We’ll all be going to that other side
And will need someone to welcome us there
And the love that you showed on earth
Will now be shared.
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dreams
I HAVE been dreaming all a summer day
Of rare and dainty poems I would write;
Love-lyrics delicate as lilac-scent,
Soft idylls woven of wind, and flower, and stream,
And songs and sonnets carven in fine gold.
The day is fading and the dusk is cold;
Out of the skies has gone the opal gleam,
Out of my heart has passed the high intent
Into the shadow of the falling night—
Must all my dreams in darkness pass away?
I have been dreaming all a summer day:
Shall I go dreaming so until Life’s light
Fades in Death’s dusk, and all my days are spent?
Ah, what am I the dreamer but a dream!
The day is fading and the dusk is cold.
My songs and sonnets carven in fine gold
Have faded from me with the last day -beam
That purple lustre to the sea-line lent,
And flushed the clouds with rose and chrysolite;
So days and dreams in darkness pass away.
I have been dreaming all a summer day
Of songs and sonnets carven in fine gold;
But all my dreams in darkness pass away;
The day is fading, and the dusk is cold.
poem by Victor James Daley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A New National Anthem
I.
God prosper, speed,and save,
God raise from England’s grave
Her murdered Queen!
Pave with swift victory
The steps of Liberty,
Whom Britons own to be
Immortal Queen.
II.
See, she comes throned on high,
On swift Eternity!
God save the Queen!
Millions on millions wait,
Firm, rapid, and elate,
On her majestic state!
God save the Queen!
III.
She is Thine own pure soul
Moulding the mighty whole,--
God save the Queen!
She is Thine own deep love
Rained down from Heaven above,--
Wherever she rest or move,
God save our Queen!
IV.
‘Wilder her enemies
In their own dark disguise,--
God save our Queen!
All earthly things that dare
Her sacred name to bear,
Strip them, as kings are, bare;
God save the Queen!
V.
Be her eternal throne
Built in our hearts alone--
God save the Queen!
Let the oppressor hold
Canopied seats of gold;
She sits enthroned of old
O’er our hearts Queen.
VI.
Lips touched by seraphim
Breathe out the choral hymn
‘God save the Queen!’
Sweet as if angels sang,
Loud as that trumpet’s clang
Wakening the world’s dead gang,--
God save the Queen!
poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Nightwalker
I sleep at night
On a cloud high on the horizon
And when I close my eyes
My soul is struck by lightning
Then I sleep at night
Like a storm
Oh, I walk the night
cause your head is gone from my pillow
And when the twilight shines
My eyes crash through the windows
cause I sleep at night without you
When its dark and the night lays me down
When the moon shines the light on the ground
I just run where my thoughts take me to
cause I cant live in this world
Without love without you
I walk the night
I walk the night
Oh, I dream at night
It must be a madmans rainbow that Im chasing
cause when I close my eyes
I feel your sweet sensation
cause I dream at night about you
When its dark and the night lays me down
When the moon shines the light on my ground
I just run where my thoughts take me to
cause I cant live in this world
Without love without you
I walk the night
I walk the night
I just run where my thoughts take me to
cause I cant live in this world
Without love without you
I walk the night
I walk the night
song performed by by Gino Vanelli
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dedication : To The Memory Of Cecil Spring-Rice
STEADFAST as any soldier of the line
He served his England, with the imminent death
Poised at his heart. Nor could the world divine
The constant peril of each burdened breath.
England, and the honour of England, he still served
Walking the strict path, with the old high pride
Of those invincible knights who never swerved
One hair's breadth from the way until they died.
Quietness he loved, and books, and the grave beauty
Of England's Helicon, whose eternal light
Shines like a lantern on that road of duty,
Discerned by few in this chaotic night;
And his own pen, foretelling his release,
Told us that he foreknew ' the end was peace.'
II.
Soldier of England, he shall live unsleeping
Among his friends, with the old proud flag above;
For even to-day her honour is in his keeping,
He has joined the hosts that guard her with their love.
They shine like stars, unnumbered happy legions,
In that high realm where all our darkness dies.
He moves with honour, in those loftier regions,
Above this ' world of passion and of lies ';
For so he called it, keeping his own pure passion
A silent flame before the true and good;
Not fawning on the throng in this world's fashion
To come and see what all might see who would.
Soldier of England, perfect, gentle knight,
The soul of Sidney welcomes you to-night.
poem by Alfred Noyes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Old Home Calls
Come back to me, little dancing feet that roam the wide world o'er,
I long for the lilt of your flying steps in my silent rooms once more;
Come back to me, little voices gay with laughter and with song,
Come back, little hearts beating high with hopes, I have missed and mourned you long.
My roses bloom in my garden walks all sweet and wet with the dew,
My lights shine down on the long hill road the waning twilights through,
The swallows flutter about my eaves as in the years of old,
And close about me their steadfast arms the lisping pine trees fold.
But I weary for you at morn and eve, O, children of my love,
Come back to me from your pilgrim ways, from the seas and plains ye rove,
Come over the meadows and up the lane to my door set open wide,
And sit ye down where the red light shines from my welcoming fireside.
I keep for you all your childhood dreams, your gladness and delights,
The joy of days in the sun and rain, the sleep of carefree nights,
All the sweet faiths ye have lost and sought again shall be your own,
Darlings, come to my empty heartI am old and still and alone!
poem by Lucy Maud Montgomery
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Madrigal: Song For Nectaria
O sweet Nectaria, keep a song to sing.
And fill your mind with thoughts that make you sigh,
while in your heart are hopes that rise sky high.
Should August's stormy days, their strong winds bring,
or darkest clouds would hide the sun and sky,
love finds you, if you keep a song to sing,
and fill your mind with thoughts that make you sigh.
Then, when Autumn left no more leaves to cling.
And songbirds search for nests where else to fly,
Never think this will be your time to cry.
But mark, to always keep a song to sing.
And fill your mind with thoughts that make you sigh,
while in your heart are hopes that rise sky high.
poem by Reyvrex Questor Reyes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bingeing On Thoughts
Bingeing on thoughts of romance I am.
Bingeing on thoughts,
Brought on by romance.
I get high hopes and I want to dance!
Bingeing on romance,
I am.
Bingeing on thoughts of romance I am.
Bingeing on thoughts,
Brought on by romance.
I get high hopes and I want to dance!
Bingeing on romance,
I am.
Bingeing on thoughts of romance I am.
Bingeing on thoughts,
Brought on by romance.
I get high hopes and I want to dance!
Bingeing on romance,
I am.
Bingeing on thoughts,
That I will...
When I can!
Bingeing a reminiscing,
Chance to stay tranced.
Bingeing on thoughts?
That I am. I am.
Bingeing I am when I can.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Those Good Old Dreams
As a child I was known for make-believing
All alone I created fantasies
As I grew people called it self-deceiving
But my heart helped me hold the memories
As I walk through the world I find around me
Something new, yet familiars in the air
I feel it evrywhere
Like a childs eyes
On a christmas night
Im lookin at you now
Finding answers to my prayers
(*) its a new day for those good old dreams
One by one it seems theyre comin true
Heres the morning that my heart had seen
Heres the morning that just had to come through
Same old stage but what a change of scene
No more dark horizons, only blue
Its a new day for those good old dreams
All my life I dreamed of lovin you
Youre a spark of a long forgotten fire
Youre a touch of a slowly growing wind
Youre a taste of the ever-changing seasons
Telling me there are some things that dont end
We have left all the darkness far behind us
All those hopes that we held along the way
Have made it to this day
Like an old love song
Gone for much too long
You hear it once again
Ant it carries you away
Repeat (*)
Its a new day for those good old dreams
And its all because of you
song performed by by Carpenters
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Dreamed Of Forest Alleys fair
I.
I DREAMED of forest alleys fair
And fields of gray-flowered grass,
Where by the yellow summer moon
My Jenny seemed to pass.
I dreamed the yellow summer moon,
Behind a cedar wood,
Lay white on fields of rippling grass
Where I and Jenny stood.
I dreamed - but fallen through my dream,
In a rainy land I lie
Where wan wet morning crowns the hills
Of grim reality.
II.
I am as one that keeps awake
All night in the month of June,
That lies awake in bed to watch
The trees and great white moon.
For memories of love are more
Than the white moon there above,
And dearer than quiet moonshine
Are the thoughts of her I love.
III.
Last night I lingered long without
My last of loves to see.
Alas! the moon-white window-panes
Stared blindly back on me.
To-day I hold her very hand,
Her very waist embrace -
Like clouds across a pool, I read
Her thoughts upon her face.
And yet, as now, through her clear eyes
I seek the inner shrine -
I stoop to read her virgin heart
In doubt if it be mine -
O looking long and fondly thus,
What vision should I see?
No vision, but my own white face
That grins and mimics me.
IV.
Once more upon the same old seat
In the same sunshiny weather,
The elm-trees' shadows at their feet
And foliage move together.
The shadows shift upon the grass,
The dial point creeps on;
The clear sun shines, the loiterers pass,
As then they passed and shone.
But now deep sleep is on my heart,
Deep sleep and perfect rest.
Hope's flutterings now disturb no more
The quiet of my breast.
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Only A Soldier's Grave
Only a soldier's grave! Pass by,
For soldiers, like other mortals, die.
Parents had he - they are far away;
No sister weeps o'er the soldier's clay;
No brother comes, with tearful eye;
It's only a soldier's grave - pass by.
True, he was loving, and young, and brave,
Though no glowing epitaph honors his grave;
No proud recital of virtues known,
Of griefs endured, or triumphs won;
No tablet of marble, or obelisk high; -
Only a soldier's grave: - pass by.
Yet bravely he wielded his sword in fight,
And he gave his life in the cause of right!
When his hope was high, and his youthful dream
As warm as the sunlight on yonder stream;
His heart unvexed by sorrow or sigh; -
Yet, 'tis only a soldier's grave: - pass by.
Yet, we should mark it - the soldier's grave,
Some one may seek him in hope to save!
Some of the dear ones, far away,
Would bear him home to his native clay:
'Twere sad, indeed, should they wander nigh,
Find not the hillock, and pass him by.
poem by S.A. Jones
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Guenevere
I was a queen, and I have lost my crown;
A wife, and I have broken all my vows;
A lover, and I ruined him I loved: --
There is no other havoc left to do.
A little month ago I was a queen,
And mothers held their babies up to see
When I came riding out of Camelot.
The women smiled, and all the world smiled too.
And now, what woman's eyes would smile on me?
I still am beautiful, and yet what child
Would think of me as some high, heaven-sent thing,
An angel, clad in gold and miniver?
The world would run from me, and yet am I
No different from the queen they used to love.
If water, flowing silver over stones,
Is forded, and beneath the horses' feet
Grows turbid suddenly, it clears again,
And men will drink it with no thought of harm.
Yet I am branded for a single fault.
I was the flower amid a toiling world,
Where people smiled to see one happy thing,
And they were proud and glad to raise me high;
They only asked that I should be right fair,
A little kind, and gowned wondrously,
And surely it were little praise to me
If I had pleased them well throughout my life.
I was a queen, the daughter of a king.
The crown was never heavy on my head,
It was my right, and was a part of me.
The women thought me proud, the men were kind,
And bowed right gallantly to kiss my hand,
And watched me as I passed them calmly by,
Along the halls I shall not tread again.
What if, to-night, I should revisit them?
The warders at the gates, the kitchen-maids,
The very beggars would stand off from me,
And I, their queen, would climb the stairs alone,
Pass through the banquet-hall, a loathed thing,
And seek my chambers for a hiding-place,
And I should find them but a sepulchre,
The very rushes rotted on the floors,
The fire in ashes on the freezing hearth.
I was a queen, and he who loved me best
Made me a woman for a night and day,
And now I go unqueened forevermore.
A queen should never dream on summer eves,
When hovering spells are heavy in the dusk: --
I think no night was ever quite so still,
So smoothly lit with red along the west,
So deeply hushed with quiet through and through.
And strangely clear, and deeply dyed with light,
The trees stood straight against a paling sky,
With Venus burning lamp-like in the west.
I walked alone amid a thousand flowers,
That drooped their heads and drowsed beneath the dew,
And all my thoughts were quieted to sleep.
Behind me, on the walk, I heard a step --
I did not know my heart could tell his tread,
I did not know I loved him till that hour.
Within my breast I felt a wild, sick pain,
The garden reeled a little, I was weak,
And quick he came behind me, caught my arms,
That ached beneath his touch; and then I swayed,
My head fell backward and I saw his face.
All this grows bitter that was once so sweet,
And many mouths must drain the dregs of it.
But none will pity me, nor pity him
Whom Love so lashed, and with such cruel thongs.
poem by Sara Teasdale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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