Derelict
In younger days, of idleness grown sick,
On this low bank I saw, as in a dream,
The fingers of the leaning willows prick
Long dimples in the slow, reluctant stream.
Watching the pilgrim leaves forsake the stem,
Impatient of the dull familiar cove,
And idle down the tide, I longed like them,
Untrammelled, homeless, free of heart, to rove.
I mind me that of these I noted one
That at the bend a wayward eddy turned
And drifted back, its journey just begun,
The secret of the wider stream unlearned.
It seemed a poor reward for one so bold,
Checked at the start, and beaten back, to find
So stale a death. I did not know, of old,
What seemed so hard could be in truth so kind!
I little thought that on a larger stream
I, too, one day should drift away at will
Toward the distant reaches of my dream
From the safe shelter where I lived so still.
I little thought that I should one day grow
Weary of endless pictures filing past,
Of idle life and idler love, and so
Come gladly to some little cove at last.
Kind eddy that has caught me from the tide,
Of drifting weary, tempest-torn and tost,
To find, from the swift current turned aside,
The simpler things I thought that I had lost!
What have they brought me, all the wasted years,
The river’s turns that opened with a smile
And ended in the bitterness of tears?
Kind God! How little were they worth the while!
Yet, here and there, around the sudden bends,
The opening reaches held some sweet surprise:—
My arm has linked and lingered in a friend’s,
My eyes have seen love swim in lovely eyes!
I have kissed pleasure—walked alone with pain;
And, if to life I was apprentice made,
My years of toil have brought the toiler’s gain—
By life equipped, of life I know the trade!
I have made foes, and so can keep a friend;
Learned of a friend how gently foes may score;
Played fast and loose with love, and in the end
Lost it, and, losing, learned to love the more!
Seeking for gifts, I found ’t is joy to give,
Searching for truth, was taught to know a lie;
Pursuing death, I learned ’t is good to live,
In quest of life, I learned it safe to die!
What were it better that the past should be
Than like that leaf, turned helplessly aside,
That drifted back beneath its mother-tree,
And at its root to purer purpose died?
Another year yet other leaves there sprung,
Fed by the mould of which it formed a part,
That subtly heard, mayhap, that voiceless tongue
And laid its lesson silently to heart.
From soil of pride the plant of meekness grows,
From labor’s mine comes gold of sweet surcease;
By sorrow’s showers is fed contentment’s rose,
And passion’s vultures build the nest of peace:
So from past weakness future strength I gain,
As poise of knowledge to my doubt succeeds,
And faith’s fresh flower, that long I sought in vain,
Blooms on the rubbish of my mouldered creeds.
Now at the end I see that it was well
To drain the cup down to the bitter lees;
To foretaste heaven—thread the paths of hell,
Else empty words and meaningless were these:
Else might I stand, as once I stood outside
My fast-locked heart, its best and worst unknown,
Till life’s firm hand flung the barred portals wide
And led me in, a stranger, to my own!
poem by Guy Wetmore Carryl from The Garden of Years and Other Poems (1900)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Related quotes
The Sound Of Wings.....
from the bars of the cell,
i learned freedom from the body.
from the underside of the bridge,
i learned home has not a house.
from forty years of working,
i learned the bitterness of the slave.
from the political lies,
i learned that truth cant be bought.
from the books i read,
i learned to reason and question.
from the heroin needle,
i learned the value of life.
from love lost,
i learned how to love.
from doubt i learned seeking,
in seeking i found god to be more.
from the scars on my heart,
i learned to be a man.
from battles fought and lost,
i learned the need for peace.
from discrimination i learned equality,
from anger i learned forgiveness.
from the mirror i learned responsibility...
from the bars of the cell,
i learned the sound of wings!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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True Love
Put myself aside.
For the sake of another.
The one I call friend.
The one I call lover.
My jaded past.
And The hurt that I gave.
The pain she endured.
My emotional slave.
I have learned a new way.
I see through new eyes.
I want to bring joy.
Into both of our lives.
He will come first.
With her right behind.
What once was all selfish.
Now loving and kind.
It's not about envy.
I've nothing to boast.
The One I gave the least.
He gave me the most.
He got rid of my pride.
Now her heart I can see.
He showed me that you.
Should come before me.
All my past angers.
They've just about ceased.
His mercy and grace.
Has given me peace.
I cannot explain.
The joy that He brings.
By loving another.
And not loving things.
The gifts that He shared.
He gave when I sought.
Is now a reality,
And no longer a thought.
I thought in my mind,
It couldn't be real.
Thank you Lord Jesus.
For what I now feel.
What's true and what's right.
What's noble and just.
I give You my heart.
I give You my trust.
The one who I love.
My friend who is true.
I will give to no other.
But I give her to You.
You made my heart soft.
She made my heart melt.
You've shown me a love.
I never had felt.
Your love is the truth.
My love was just lies.
I give thanks that you showed me,
My wife through Your eyes.
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ive Found A Reason
Written by ricky & kim wilde
Been a long time alone now
Only live every day on my own terms
Doing everything my way
If you dont understand you had to learn
You say you see a different world
That you dont believe in what I say
Now you walk into my world
Aware of the danger
But you wont turn away
Somewhere down the road I left a part of me behind
The girl you want to know left years ago
Before she lost her mind
You brought back the heart in me
I thought Id never find
cos I didnt care before
But now Ive found a reason
Baby, how did you find me
Ive been lost for so long without a trace
You came back to remind me
Got me back from a sad and lonely place
And all the ghosts have disappeared
Youve taken away the things Ive feared
Ive turned my back on all the pain
You gave me a reason to llive my life again
Somewhere down the road I left a part of me behind
The girl you want to know left years ago
Before she lost her mind
You brought back the heart in me
I thought Id never find
cos I didnt care before
But now Ive found a reason
You were there before my eyes
How could I have been so blind
Ive got one life
Ive been wasting time
You came to save this heart of mine
And all the ghosts have disappeared
Youve taken away the things Ive feared
Ive turned my back on all the pain
You gave me a reason to llive my life again
Somewhere down the road I left a part of me behind
The girl you want to know left years ago
Before she lost her mind
You brought back the heart in me
I thought Id never find
cos I didnt care before
But now Ive found a reason
Now Ive found a reason
song performed by by Kim Wilde
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Oldest Inhabitant
'AND when came I to this town?' did he say!
A question asked for the asking's sake,
Answered merely an answer to make,
As stranger to stranger may;
Answered enough with ''Twas yesterday,'
And a talk of the journey travelled so fast.
Had I said, 'Since I dwelt here first have passed
Hundreds of years away'!
Aye, and there be who, if they knew,
Would envy me, as a cripple must long,
Looking on limbs erect and strong,
To have his freedom given him too
And rise and reach to whither he would:
'What!' they would think, 'Is the gift not good
Beyond all gifts for earth or for time?
Life, and no shadow of death o'ercast,
Life, and the joy of manhood's prime,
Life, and the lore of a boundless past,
Life, and still life to come and to last! '
And I even, even now,
I know not what that spirit might be,
Whether of love or of hate to me,
That stood in the dusk on the mountain's brow,
Alone with the stars I had climbed to see nigh,
And smiled, and gave, and was no more there.
There was no trace broke the sky,
There was no breath stirred the air,
Nought from the heaven or the earth to tell
If it were well:
And how much surer to-day know I
Whether he meant me a boon or a curse,
Whether to wait or to die be worse?
Ah, how I joyed for so many years!
Death under my heel with his hindering fears,
And I the lord of my life for ever!
Leisure and labour limitless,
And always the joy of the earned success
Crowned with the joy of the new endeavour!
And I thought 'I will make all wisdoms mine;'
And I thought 'The world shall be glad of me.'
Ah, how I joyed! for could I divine
What the fruit of immortal days must be?
But alas for the numbness of wont on all,
For the heart that has loved too often to prize,
For the eyes that have wept too often for tears,
For the listless feet and the careless ears,
For the brain that has learned that to learn is vain,
For forgotten joy and forgotten pain,
For the life too frequent for memories!
And I taste no joy because it will pall,
And I watch no grace because it will wane,
And I seek no good for it will not remain,
And I knit no tie because it will sever.
If I were not alone: if the gift were shared
With but some one soul in the world beside,
Some one for whom I might have cared,
Who would not so soon have grown old and died.
But ever and ever to build all anew,
And ever and ever to see all decay;
To fashion my life as the others do
And have my place among fellow-men,
To sit content in my home—and then
To have lived, and the rest has faded away:
There are the graves, and I part of the past,
Forgotten with them whom I outlast.
Let it be; 'tis a foolish game,
The game that children play on the beach,
With its ending always the same,
Building amain till the tide-waves reach
And the sands will be bare to build on to-morrow.
Let it be; for what is the worth?
Long since I wearied of saying good-bye:
And what or whom should I cherish on earth
Where I go as might one from some world on high
Unmeet for the short-lived pleasure or sorrow?
Only the men who look to die
Can have or hope in a world where death reigns:
Do I pity that slight ephemerous fly,
Whirling and resting there in the sun,
Because his day will be so soon done?
All remains while his day remains;
He will not have known that a rosebud wanes.
How if he lived for ever, as I?
Truly 'tis even so,
To die betimes is scarcely to know
How death is around us everywhere.
But ever for me the birth and blow
Are but a part of decay that is there,
And the living come but to go:
Till at length I am one who, drawing aside,
Where the crowd sweeps by in one jostling race,
Stands unstirred in his lonely place
And leaves off noting face after face;
I am one who wait stranded, alone, by the tide
Of Life, which has also Death for name
Because for the world the two are the same,
The tide that goes winding back whence it came,
Bearing all thither save me;
And I dream and I scarcely seem to be,
And I know no count of time as it flies,
And the river passes, passes, passes,
Smooth and for ever, and changelessly glasses
Summers and winters and changing skies,
Passes, and passes, and passes,
And nothing abides and nothing is strange;
And oh for rest to my languid eyes
Weary of change that is never change!
Ah! men might marvel to hear me say
The world of my youth is the world of to-day;
Here, in this very home of my birth,
How they would answer from some old book,
'Thus and thus was the past; now look,
Are we as they of the older earth,
We and our ways, and the fields we plough?'
And the first-met gossip who knows but Now
Counts chances a score in half a year,
Tells me this was that, and there was here,
A hall is burnt, a new market is made,
A railway runs where the school-boys played,
He is married, and he is dead,
And he so rich goes begging his bread;
''Tis a world of change,' he will soberly sigh
For point to his tales: why, and so say I;
Chances and changes enough, I deem,
In a world that goes on like a shifting dream;
But, oh, the long sameness! Ebb and flow:
Billows that come, and billows that go!
Nothing is but will drift away,
Nothing was but will come:
Future finds Past, old becomes new;
What men have done that they will do.
'Tis but the counting coins of to-day
To measure the former sum,
But the naming laterwise
Things and thoughts of an ancient guise:
And what change for me who see life as some star,
The expanses of earth in one from afar?
Hill grows valley and valley grows hills
'Tis a world of hills and valleys still.
Did I dream I could have been wearied thus,
With truth and with wisdoms left to seek?
Alas, my learners who heard me speak
'Is not to learn enough for us?
Is not to strive a strength for the soul,
Though she never gained one foot to the goal?'
If you could waken now where you lie,
You and your graves forgotten as I
In our town that would tell our names for its praise;
If you could hear, and your pitying gaze
Could know the teacher who made you bold!
Nay, sleep on unconscious there in the mould:
You died with a joy as of something gained,
Something given to the world you left;
I laboured on to be ever bereft
Of the skill achieved, of the science attained.
For, lo, the end of all learning is this,
Only to know one has learned amiss,
Only to know that the art or the lore
With its rules and its axioms was nothing more
Than a working guess that did for the while;
Only to know that sage after sage
Has passed on a dream from age to age,
Till the world awakes, and the children smile
At the thoughts of the foolish grown-men of old.
Aye, sleep, ye who counted your lives well spent,
Sleep, ye who dreamed; ye are content
Thou who hadst gained the secret of gold,
Save that one last fusion left me to find;
Thou who hadst tracked the sun's path through the air;
Thou with thy skill of the stars; thou there
In the chapel vault, with thy name still shown
To sauntering strangers, cut on the stone,
With thy chronicle of the world left behind;
Thou who hadst learned and hadst lighted on cures
For every ill man's body endures,
And leftst me thy leechcrafts for legacy;
Thou; and thou; and thou; oh, poor fools,
Who dreamed ye had found the thing ye sought,
Sleep, sleep and know not. All goes by,
Lores, and crafts, and beliefs, and schools;
Wrought is unravelled; thought is new-thought;
Till meseems that truth's very self must die,
And be born again unto younger rules.
Whereto is life for me? And I would
I had now departed and knew the end.
Death—'tis a way even I might wend—
But were it evil or good?
Oh, had it been but a word to speak,
But a blow at once, or a venomous draught,
Long since I had said, or struck, or quaffed:
But all a seven days' week!
Each dawn and each dusk of a seven days' week,
To will it unwavering: all a week!
Vain, vain, o'er and o'er,
A thousand times and a thousand yet:
Lo, life with some one poor hope once more,
Some one poor grace worth a while for regret;
Lo, death grown awful with dread and doubt.
And oh, feeble will, and oh, sluggish heart,
Almost too weary to long to depart!
Yet, dusk is at hand, see, the sunset fades out:
And here where was home life is loneliest to bear,
'Twere a goodly time to renew the test;
And I will it—Nay, is it worth the care?
'Tis but beginning a strife and unrest.
Seven days for life to lure back her thrall.
Oh, if I knew the end! knew all!
But, what if even life were the best?
What, if death were a new despair?
poem by Augusta Davies Webster
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Dead Friend
I.
Gone, O gentle heart and true,
Friend of hopes foregone,
Hopes and hopeful days with you
Gone?
Days of old that shone
Saw what none shall see anew,
When we gazed thereon.
Soul as clear as sunlit dew,
Why so soon pass on,
Forth from all we loved and knew
Gone?
II.
Friend of many a season fled,
What may sorrow send
Toward thee now from lips that said
'Friend'?
Sighs and songs to blend
Praise with pain uncomforted
Though the praise ascend?
Darkness hides no dearer head:
Why should darkness end
Day so soon, O dear and dead
Friend?
III.
Dear in death, thou hast thy part
Yet in life, to cheer
Hearts that held thy gentle heart
Dear.
Time and chance may sear
Hope with grief, and death may part
Hand from hand's clasp here:
Memory, blind with tears that start,
Sees through every tear
All that made thee, as thou art,
Dear.
IV.
True and tender, single-souled,
What should memory do
Weeping o'er the trust we hold
True?
Known and loved of few,
But of these, though small their fold,
Loved how well were you!
Change, that makes of new things old,
Leaves one old thing new;
Love which promised truth, and told
True.
V.
Kind as heaven, while earth's control
Still had leave to bind
Thee, thy heart was toward man's whole
Kind.
Thee no shadows blind
Now: the change of hours that roll
Leaves thy sleep behind.
Love, that hears thy death-bell toll
Yet, may call to mind
Scarce a soul as thy sweet soul
Kind.
VI.
How should life, O friend, forget
Death, whose guest art thou?
Faith responds to love's regret,
How?
Still, for us that bow
Sorrowing, still, though life be set,
Shines thy bright mild brow.
Yea, though death and thou be met,
Love may find thee now
Still, albeit we know not yet
How.
VII.
Past as music fades, that shone
While its life might last;
As a song-bird's shadow flown
Past!
Death's reverberate blast
Now for music's lord has blown
Whom thy love held fast.
Dead thy king, and void his throne:
Yet for grief at last
Love makes music of his own
Past.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Second Chances
We met one night
through strange circumstances
in this life we live
given second chances
To open doors to find
new romances
that kept us behind
from another start
All was there to give
love showed through a heart
once broken with promises
and stolen kisses
that left us torn apart
Still we found each other
learned to love one another
with no compromises
On this stage of lonely dances
swept away
memories finally fade
to face the truth and consequences
of a past long forgotten
And if I was to do it over again
your love I would still hold in my hand
with all that we made
Where once alone, we would stand
lost without a friend
something we could'nt comprehend
with a heart we never thought would mend
Now we are here together
with a love to share forever
where what was once wrong
now feel's so right
with you is where I belong
this love I feel so strong
Dedicated to: Sara
May happiness always be with you
poem by Spiritwind Wood
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Jesus Saves
Some people find Jesus
In the back of a old country church
Some find Him
In an worn out bible book
But I found Jesus
In the heart of a dear old friend
Just when I thought my life was over
Jesus gave back to me again
She told how He loved me
That He never walked away
For that's when I saw His love
In her eyes that very day
Oh how lucky I have been
To have a believer as a friend
For when I was lost and at my bitter end
She brought me back to Him
Just when I thought my life was over
Jesus gave it back again
Now when people ask me
If there really is a God
I just look them in the eye
Give them a simple nod
For if it wasn't for my friend and God
I wouldn't be here today
Just when I thought my life was over
Jesus gave it back that day
poem by David Kush
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Can Never Go Home
I dont know what Im searching for
I never have opened the door,
Tomorrow might find me at last,
Turning my back on the past,
But, time will tell, of stars that fell,
A million years ago.
Memories can never take you back, home, sweet home.
You can never go home anymore.
All my life I never really knew me till today,
Now I know why, Im just another step along the way,
I lie awake for hours, Im just waiting for the sun.
When the journey we are making has begun,
Dont deny the feeling that is stealing through your heart,
Every happy ending needs to have a start.
All my life I never really knew me till today,
Now I know why, Im just another step along the way,
Weep no more for treasures youve been searching for in vain.
cos the truth is gently falling with the rain,
High above the forest lie the pastures of the sun,
Where the two that learned the secret are now one.
I dont know what Im searching for
I never have opened the door,
Tomorrow might find me at last,
Turning my back on the past,
But, time will tell, of stars that fell,
A million years ago.
Memories can never take you back, home, sweet home.
You can never go home anymore.
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An Unwritten Tragedy
Ho, ye that thirst beside the running stream!
Love is a running stream, whose waters flow
Upon the earth, and who would drink thereof
Must bend him earthwards. There was such an one
Who lay upon his belly in the mire
And was not ashamed. Because he deemed it well
That love, which is the strength of weaker things,
Should make of Man a child. And, while he lay
And summer winds were drowsing in his ears,
The river of his love went rippling by.
And thus he lived, and thus he might have died,
Deaf to his fellows' scorn, and held it gain
To lie a living corse unburied there
Among the reeds of Time and hidden in
From the world's stare. But Fate was watching him
With envious eyes; and he had merited
In truth much retribution at her hand.
--Alas that I should have such spite to tell!
She took her vengeance at the fountain head,
And made a desolation in the land.
And how he dreamed and half outwitted Fate,
Because his mind was single in his love;
And how she took the pitiless winds in pay
And set a wrack of clouds upon their back;
And how, because she could not master him,
She turned the waters of his love away;
And how that man arose up from his lair,
Foul with the ooze and with a beard grown grey
Through his long shame; and how he turned and fled
From the sun's face to dwell among the tombs,
I would relate. And, if in simple words
How some have learned the nakedness of truth,
The carelessness of God, Man's cruelty
And their own folly, it would be a tale
To chill the lust of Youth and bend the knees
Of Manhood's pride before the strength of Fate
Which conquers all;--And this I think would be
The sum of human tragedy on Earth.
--But who am I to stay the wings of Death
And pluck a feather out and write such things?
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Fall I Cry But Again and Again I Try!
The life goes on
Things finds an end
Soon or late
Everything will end
Nothing and no one lasts to the end
Life never waits there
Till you ease your pain
Days run so fast
At once you'll find out the years have passed
And every dream of your just became a past
Today is your's somehow you have to find your way home
Tomorrow where and how you will be
No one can know
So live it the best
No one deserves to cry for them till the end
The one who hurts, destroys and goes
Never deserves your tears
Don't let them to take away your years
The life is more precious than the love
We live just once
How silly I was at the past
The life never stops there for someone's sake.
The life goes on and things change
The life is valuable so I have to change
I can once again find my way
No one is unforgettable i've learned it
No one is unresistable now I know it.
The life is more precious than you love.
I fall I cry but again and again I try!
And I walk to find my way once again!
poem by Sossi Khachadourian
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I've learned
Ive learned that to love someone doesnt have to involve pain,
Ive learned that to have a friend you must be a friend first,
Ive learned that in time youll see your mistakes and learn from them,
Ive learned that to be alone sometimes is the best thing for you,
Ive learned that in order to love a person you must feel loved,
Ive learned that if your wrong admit it or youll never forgive yourself,
Ive learned that your first love will be a part of you and you may never forget,
Ive learned that in order to move on you must fix what was first wrong,
Ive learned that if you ever mess up, you can always start over again,
Ive learned that to be 'cool' doesnt involve pressure,
Ive learned to accept what I have and be happy,
Ive learned that people will come and go so tell the ones you love how you feel,
Ive learned that to respect yourself you must respect others,
Ive learned that your actions always involve consequences whether it be good or bad,
Ive learned that priceless words can mean the world to someone,
Ive learned that sometimes being silent is the best solution,
Ive learned to expect the unexpected,
Ive learned that healing a broken heart involves tears and pain,
Ive learned to see the world in the eyes of others,
And Ive learned that each new day is a day to touch a life.
poem by Carly Almonde
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To-Day
OH God, where hast thou hidden Truth? Oh Truth,
Where is the road to God?
Lo, we, that should be old, have learned our youth;
We are not manly ripe; we have not dower
Of all the wisdom that a world can gain
In the centuries of work, peace, war, hope, pain;
We are not strong with all the gathered power
From age to age left our inheritance;
We stand not near the goal, there by the advance
Of step on step, through mire and blood and tears,
Forgotten fathers trod;
We are new in a new world; where shall we know,
Where in the ancient years,
Sign-marks to guide us on the way we go?
We are new in a new world. As children learn
Life by surprise and doubt,
So life must learn itself at each return
Of the upsoaring Phoenix birth from sleep
Among the ashes of an ended Past.
In its own strength, and singly from the last,
Each age's long To-day begins to creep
In baby paces whitherward it goes.
And from too far with too unsure a close,
Like void sonorous echoes in the hill,
Yesterday's voice rings out,
So gives the questioning turmoil of our cries
Answer such as we will.
Has Past writ Present in its histories?
Our fathers saw, we see not with their eyes,
Knew, and we learned in vain:
We seek old wisdoms in a novel wise;
We toil beginners of the things that are;
Like lessons which we early get by rote,
Heedless of meaning in the words we quote,
And by and by, the schoolroom left afar,
Discern at last their sense or find a new,
The just, the unjust, the counterfeit, the true,
We said from books upon our fathers' shelves,
All must be learned again:
We, children-like, still wondering as we grow,
Change, and become ourselves,
And only as ourselves can henceforth know.
How shall we know? what must we do? what be?
Answer us, Life, instead:
Past speaks us a dead tongue, we look to thee
And know thee teacher—yet a tardy one;
For now we labour, fearing to what end;
We journey, dimly seeing where we tend;
We do, and question was it rightly done;
Doubt and distrust of self beside us stand;
And who will find us Truth? where is her hand
To guide us on or back by the round path,
Leading but whence it led,
She travels on from God to reach him by?
What is the name she hath
To find her by to-day? Life, make reply.
poem by Augusta Davies Webster
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Quest
Part i:
Three men set out for their worldly quest
One for gold, another for a pleasure nest
The third for what he could not tell
But trusted his heart to lead him well.
'I shall have every silver and every gold'
The first boasted so bold
'All pleasure everywhere is mine'
The second yelled, 'with plenty wine and dine'
To the third they asked, 'what will yours be'
'Well for all i ask and seek, ' said he
'Let the sun guide me by day, by night the moon
To my quest, my heart shall lead me there soon'
Part ii
And there before the rising sun
Set all three with hope to return
Through North, south, from east to west
In search of their worldly quest
Part iii
The first found silver and gold of every kind
Much more he hoped to find
Some so big, some sparkling small
O! How much he loved them all
The second found his pleasure land
With plenty merry go hand
So much to eat, and much to drink
Till his cheeks grew fat and pink
Part iv
The third, from valley low, to mountain top
And yet he did not stop
For deep inside love bade him come
Of your quest, you'd find the sum
Alas! So weary from his worldy quest
Sat he down quietly to rest
Soon he was gently fast asleep
As he snored so free and deep
He dreamt he stood before a court so heavily thronged
And he in kingly robe adorned
By his side stood a beautiful queen
That eye had ever seen
He woke up and lo! he saw before him
That castle in his dream
So marvelous still, was that royal face
In so splendid a place
Part v
Soon news went round as time unfold
Of those who sought for pleasure and gold
O! Such a terrible tale to hear
What strife they had to bear
For the first had gone to sail at sea
Aboard 'Her Golden Majesty'
'For all under heaven' boasted he
'There is none as rich as me'
Then came a gathering gloom
Of tempest christiened doom
It pressed them low and tossed them high
They screamed- 'we are all going to die'
'Ho! For every life and property aboard
One' said the capt, 'must go overboard
Choose now, your judgement me be fair
We have no time to spare'
A murmur here, a murmur there
But then it was quite clear
For all on board, silver and gold,
A life is worth more to behold
And so over and over went his silver and gold
Till none was left to hold
Thus he lost his worldly gain
His life now filled with vain
For the one who sought for pleasure
Had more than words could measure
Food, drink and women of every name
For fun he grew to fame
Soon one after one, as darkness befall
Till none was left at all
And so alone left he to fend
O! What a traggic end
For all he had were friends for fun
But now they were all gone
He knew not where to go or what to do
What will you, if it were you?
Part vi
Back to the one who sought for love
Had more that mortal quest could prove
A beautiful queen, and a royal gown
Sweet end and a golden crown
'Welcome my lord, come thee to me
I have by the gate waited thee
Its time to take thy rightful place
The world awaits thy face'
'I am not worthy of such glory and gold' he cried
Hush! Love knows best and never ask' she said
Then hand in hand she led him on
'Of all life's quest, the best you have won! '
'For begger is he who seek only riches and all it brings
But to find love the dream of kings! !
poem by Okonkwo Osamedua. Allen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lessons learned...
I sit and stare into the vastness of space,
Desperate to find my path and my place.
I ponder what's gone and what's yet to be,
When shall this heart I own ever be free.
Is it a known fact, or just a guess?
That life means little and death means less.
That through all this sorrow, grief and pain,
We shall live our life's in utter vain.
I like to think we're meant for much more,
That the life we live shall tally a score.
And the souls we lost amidst such sorrow,
Shall hold us close in our final tomorrow.
Yet the truth I fear is not what I yearn,
We should all seek to be a lesson to be learned.
For each generation must add to the last,
So we do not repeat the mistakes of our past...
Spread the love... The peace will follow...
poem by Cosmic Dreamer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Never Knew
It's really been a long time
Since I let somebody hold me
Since I felt safe in somebody's arms, emm emm
You were a good friend I could confide in
But after all the lies he told me
I couldn't let nobody in my heart
I was torn apart
All this time you've been right here
He's been doing nothing but wrong
And though the best thing in my life was
Here with me all along
Chorus
I never knew
Right beside me there was an angel
I never knew
You'd give my heart the wings to fly
Because of you
Everything in my life is changing
Turning it to
The kind of heaven that I never Knew
He kissed away my tears
And now they've disappeared
You make me feel SAFE in somebody's arms
You're the kind that can do me no harm
These questions everybody ASKS me
They say THEY'VE never seen me so happy
But that's a secret between you and me
They don't know nothing about us baby
Can't let up
Can't tell anybody that you're not from around here
They don't know that you're an angel
But now it's all so clear
Chorus
I never knew
Right beside me there was an angel
I never knew
You'd give my heart the wings to fly
Because of you
Everything in my life is changing
Turning it to
The kind of heaven that I never Knew
Is this a dream
Are you for real
You got me honey
Feeling things that I never thought I'd feel
You taught me love
Don't have to break my heart in two
That's just one more of those things
That I never, never knew
I never knew
Right beside me
There was an angel
I never, never knew (that my heart could fly)
It's all because of you baby
My life is changing
Turning it to
The kind of heaven that I never knew
song performed by by Gloria Gaynor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Psalm For New Year’s Eve
A FRIEND stands at the door;
In either tight-closed hand
Hiding rich gifts, three hundred and three score:
Waiting to strew them daily o'er the land
Even as seed the sower.
Each drops he, treads it in and passes by:
It cannot be made fruitful till it die.
O good New Year, we clasp
This warm shut hand of thine,
Loosing forever, with half sigh, half gasp,
That which from ours falls like dead fingers' twine:
Ay, whether fierce its grasp
Has been, or gentle, having been, we know
That it was blessed: let the Old Year go.
O New Year, teach us faith!
The road of life is hard:
When our feet bleed and scourging winds us scathe,
Point thou to Him whose visage was more marred
Than any man's: who saith
'Make straight paths for your feet'--and to the opprest--
'Come ye to Me, and I will give you rest.'
Yet hang some lamp-like hope
Above this unknown way,
Kind year, to give our spirits freer scope
And our hands strength to work while it is day.
But if that way must slope
Tombward, O bring before our fading eyes
The lamp of life, the Hope that never dies.
Comfort our souls with love,--
Love of all human kind;
Love special, close--in which like sheltered dove
Each weary heart its own safe nest may find;
And love that turns above
Adoringly; contented to resign
All loves, if need be, for the Love Divine.
Friend, come thou like a friend,
And whether bright thy face,
Or dim with clouds we cannot comprehend,--
We'll hold out patient hands, each in his place,
And trust thee to the end.
Knowing thou leadest onwards to those spheres
Where there are neither days nor months nor years.
poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Melancoly Days Of Wine and Laugher
Melancholy days of Wine and Laughter
Written by: Wilfred Charles Mellers, Thursday, March 8,2012 @ 12: 28 PM
A fool I was to let you go I know
Blinded by the light I gave up without a fight
On me you depended and sadly it ended
Never gave you want you wanted
I took you for granted
Melancholy comes to the eyes I disguised
For me you once certainly despised
I let you down and shut you out without a doubt
Should've kept you in for that is mine sin
Should‘ve showed more support for life is short
Tears dropp over Niagara Falls for I feel so small
Living without you is a crime I must do the time
Treated you badly when I need you madly
Such a jester to give up my prize so unwise
I was gone long before you left know the tears I've wept
The guilt falls squarely on me for I let it be
Years I regret losing the most beautiful creature I've met
The fool has learned for the years I've burned
Engulfed by the fire from the heart's desire
Sweet are such memories of the adoration's I still carry
Such mysticism I you the first I questioned to marry
Although we are apart you still have my heart
The waters perchance muddy and happier you maybe
A clown so passive aggressive with no sensible motive
Kindling flames of passion I certainly not creative
It comes to me as no surprise that weary besets mine eyes
Pondering too late to set the record straight
For you I once lived so please find it in your heart to forgive
Best of friends perhaps now sincerely chances are I confess
Thoughts far too long on my chest they rest
And now for another passions burn
Lessons taught well I've learned
On you my back I once had turned
The loving you gave I once spurned
Till death do us and we certainly did part
A special place still resides for you in my heart
poem by Wilfred Mellers
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Year of the Rose
From the depths of the green garden-closes
Where the summer in darkness dozes
Till autumn pluck from his hand
An hour-glass that holds not a sand;
From the maze that a flower-belt encloses
To the stones and sea-grass on the strand
How red was the reign of the roses
Over the rose-crowned land!
The year of the rose is brief;
From the first blade blown to the sheaf,
From the thin green leaf to the gold,
It has time to be sweet and grow old,
To triumph and leave not a leaf
For witness in winter's sight
How lovers once in the light
Would mix their breath with its breath,
And its spirit was quenched not of night,
As love is subdued not of death.
In the red-rose land not a mile
Of the meadows from stile to stile,
Of the valleys from stream to stream,
But the air was a long sweet dream
And the earth was a sweet wide smile
Red-mouthed of a goddess, returned
From the sea which had borne her and burned,
That with one swift smile of her mouth
Looked full on the north as it yearned,
And the north was more than the south.
For the north, when winter was long,
In his heart had made him a song,
And clothed it with wings of desire,
And shod it with shoon as of fire,
To carry the tale of his wrong
To the south-west wind by the sea,
That none might bear it but he
To the ear of the goddess unknown
Who waits till her time shall be
To take the world for a throne.
In the earth beneath, and above
In the heaven where her name is love,
She warms with light from her eyes
The seasons of life as they rise,
And her eyes are as eyes of a dove,
But the wings that lift her and bear
As an eagle's, and all her hair
As fire by the wind's breath curled,
And her passage is song through the air,
And her presence is spring through the world.
So turned she northward and came,
And the white-thorn land was aflame
With the fires that were shed from her feet,
That the north, by her love made sweet,
Should be called by a rose-red name;
And a murmur was heard as of doves,
And a music beginning of loves
In the light that the roses made,
Such light as the music loves,
The music of man with maid.
But the days drop one upon one,
And a chill soft wind is begun
In the heart of the rose-red maze
That weeps for the roseleaf days
And the reign of the rose undone
That ruled so long in the light,
And by spirit, and not by sight,
Through the darkness thrilled with its breath,
Still ruled in the viewless night,
As love might rule over death.
The time of lovers is brief;
From the fair first joy to the grief
That tells when love is grown old,
From the warm wild kiss to the cold,
From the red to the white-rose leaf,
They have but a season to seem
As rose-leaves lost on a stream
That part not and pass not apart
As a spirit from dream to dream,
As a sorrow from heart to heart.
From the bloom and the gloom that encloses
The death-bed of Love where he dozes
Till a relic be left not of sand
To the hour-glass that breaks in his hand;
From the change in the grey garden-closes
To the last stray grass of the strand,
A rain and ruin of roses
Over the red-rose land.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An Old Picture
THERE are times when a dream delicious
Steals into a musing hour,
Like a face with love capricious
That peeps from a woodland bower;
And one dear scene comes changeless;
A wooded hill and a river;
A deep, cool bend, where the lilies end,
And the elm-tree shadows quiver.
And I lie on the brink there, dreaming
That the life I live is a dream;
That the real is but the seeming,
And the true is the sun-flecked stream.
Beneath me, the perch and the bream sail past
In the dim cool depths of the river;
The struggling fly breaks the mirrored sky
And the elm-tree shadows quiver.
There are voices of children away on the hill;
There are bees thro' the flag-flowers humming;
The lighter-man calls to the lock, and the mill
On the farther side is drumming.
And I sink to sleep in my dream of a dream,
In the grass by the brink of a river,
Where the voices blend and the lilies end
And the elm-tree shadows quiver.
Like a gift from the past is the kindly dream,
For the sorrow and passion and pain
Are adrift like the leaves on the breast of the stream,
And the child-life comes again.
O, the sweet sweet pain of a joy that died—
Of a pain that is joy forever!
O, the life that died in the stormy tide
That was once my sun-flecked river.
poem by John Boyle O'Reilly
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Quieta Ne Movete II
IF one should wake one's frozen faith
In sunlight of her radiant eyes,
Bid it forget its dream of death,
In this new dream of Paradise,
Bid it forget the long, slow pain,
The agony when, all in vain,
It fought for life, and how one swore,
Once cold, it should not waken more;
If hope one buried long ago
Should thrill beneath those smiles of hers,
Should in one's sere life stir and grow,
As in brown woods the young spring stirs;
If, breaking icy bonds of grief,
One's soul should start to bud and leaf,
It might forget in that springtide
How last year's leaves fell off and died.
If from warm faith and hope set high
A lovely living child was born,
With lips more pure than starlit sky,
And eyes as clear as summer morn,
Child-love might grow till one forgot
Old love, that was and now is not--
Forgot that far-off time of tears,
And all these desolated years.
And yet of faith, hope, love, one knows
So well what end the years will make,
If one should dig beneath Time's snows
And wake them now for her sweet sake.
New life may mean new joy; but then,
What lives again may die again,
And to that second death there may
Be no new resurrection-day.
poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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