Related quotes
Wisp of love
O' wisp of love
so delicate,
barely
discernable
burgeoning cautiously
perhaps
predetermined
by fate
O' wisp of love
cries out
to be heard
regardless of
it's destiny,
irrational as it may be
O' wisp of love
refuses to be still
ever stirring within us
which ever way it befalls
it will be....
it must be.
T. Labbe`
A Child
Little wisp of wonderment,
All the world your doll!
Hugging it in huge content,
Little wisp of wonderment;
Life has only laughter sent—
Everything is droll:
Little wisp of wonderment,
All the world your doll.
poem by Arthur Henry Adams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
You Can't Brush Me Off
Why don't you just give in?
Just like a Siamese twin
I mean to stick to you
Until you do
I won't take it on the chin
You'll never leave me flat
I'm not a "last year's hat"
That you can cast aside
I've got my pride
And I won't stand for that
You can't brush me off
As you would a speck of powder, you may try
But you can't brush me off
You can't shout me down
You can yell but I'll yell louder, you can try
But you can't brush me off
You can say you're out but I'll keep phoning
You can tell me goodbye
You can tell me but I
Won't go
No
You can't leave me cold
As you would a plate of chowder, you may try
But you can't brush me off
[2]
What is this all about?
You've got me wrong, no doubt
I give you all my time
Believe me, I'm
Not looking for some way out
I want you for my wife
Sharing my care and strife
And that may not be fun
For when it's done
You're stuck with me for life
You can't brush me off
As you would a fresh mosquito, you may try
But you can't brush me off
You can't rub me out
Like a spot on my tuxedo, you may try
But you can't brush me off
You can cut me dead but I won't mind it
You may injure my pride
Still I'll never decide
To go
No
You can't drop me fast
As you would a live torpedo, you may try
But you can't brush me off
[3]
You can't brush me off
Like a colored pullman porter, you may try
But you can't brush me off
You can't lock me out
Like a frightened farmer's daughter, you may try
But you can't brush me off
You can drop a hint but I won't take it
You can tell me bad news
I intend to refuse
To go
No
You can't give me back
As you would a leaded quarter, you may try
But you can't brush me off
song performed by by Irving Berlin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Wil-O-the-Wisp
Enchanted Wil-O-The Wisp Wanderer
You cannot escape his sea-blue
Eyes View
For set in water they are
Upon this beautiful form
Of You
Cladden In White Chantilly Lace
A flowing gown of floral crochet
But somewhat sheer in certain light
Seen in his eye near the bay
You walk along the sands O' time
Upon the shorelines
Passing Scene
O' enchanted Wil-O-The-Wisp Wanderer
You are the woman of his dreams
His sea of blue eyes come calling
Beckoning you away from the shore
Perhaps, anew, A Mermaid borne
And a Wil -O- The- Wisp Wanderer
No More
poem by Theodora Onken
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Pillow wor[l]ds place lisp
through dreams' double meanings
will o'wisp case crisp.
haiku by Jonathan Robin (24 March 2005)
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Longing For Love
Neither the issue nor the sire,
neither fulfilment nor desire
am I for anyone,
am I for anyone.
I am as all men, the sunless sea,
the alien thule, mystery,
a fleeing wisp of light,
a fleeing wisp of light.
But I must look for friends and brothers;
I want to show myself to others
that seeing they will see,
that seeing they will see.
For this my lyric masochism;
I long to close the gaping schism,
and thus belong somewhere,
and thus belong somewhere.
When Will Life Begin
Seven A.M., the usual morning line-up
Start on the chores, and sweep 'til the
floor's are
clean
Polish and wax, do laundry and mop and
shine up
Sweep again
And by then
It's, like, seven fifteen
And so I'll read a book
Or maybe 2 or 3 Ill add a few new
paintings
To my gallery
I'll play guitar and knit and cook
And basically
Just wonder, when will my life begin?
Then, after lunch, it's puzzles, and
darts, and
baking...
Paper-mache, a bit of ballet, and
chess....
Pottery and ventriloquy, candle-
making...
Then I'll stretch
Maybe sketch
Take a climb
Sew a dress
And I'll re-read the books
If I have time to spare
I'll paint the wall some more
I'm sure there's room somewhere
And then I'll brush, and brush
And brush, and brush my hair
Stuck in the same place I've always been
And I'll keep wondrin'
And wonderin'
And wonderin'
And wonderin'
When will my life begin?
Tomorrow night...
The lights will appear...
Just like they do on my birthday each
year...What is it like...
Out there where they glow...
Now that I'm older...
Mother might just let me go......
poem by Pawan Kumar 'Meonlafesta'
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Flash of Life
I don't remember those days
That room has been re-painted
So many times since then
In so many different ways
She just vanished in the air
Like a wisp of smoke circling
Swirling, then gone forever
I never thought I would care
Her smile was all too fleeting
It became a speck of dust
Landing somewhere on the floor
The proof was my heart beating
Then I peeked into that room
There was no paint on those walls
A wisp became her in flesh
And she smiled at me, her groom
A snap and seventy years
I never saw her again
Anywhere or anytime
She left me with just my tears
poem by Paul H Nelson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Brush Away
I could use some time to curl away
My aggression is where you stake your claim
Why I question this curve on which you grade
My conception, a joke or latest craze?
I try to get away, and yet I stick around
So fall and crawl away, and brush away loose ground
My intention, may I arrive at eight?
Lie and dream some, surprise you guys Im late
All right, correction, forgetting something, wait
I try to get away, and yet I stick around (2x)
So fall and crawl away, and brush away loose ground
Brush away loose ground
Brush away
song performed by by Alice In Chains
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
A Wisp Of Mist
Was that a wisp of mist I saw, swirling across the lawn,
Drifting through the shrubbery, this early November’s dawn.
Frost had gathered on the grass, making it all crisp and white,
And so a chilly day has shown a vision of delight.
Winter’s fingers are moving and the land begins to freeze,
Dressed in a silver blanket by nature’s great expertise.
Icy world of sparkle, a unique transformation seen,
As a wisp of mist goes swirling slowly across the green.
poem by Ernestine Northover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A white paper - Brush,
Fine brush made it
A beautiful portrait!
haiku by V.K. Kanniappan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The God Of Common-Sense
My Daddy used to wallop me for every small offense:
"Its takes a hair-brush back," said he, "to teach kids common-sense."
And still to-day I scarce can look a hair-brush in the face.
Without I want in sympathy to pat a tender place.
For Dad declared with unction: "Spare the brush and spoil the brat."
The dear old man! What e'er his faults he never did do that;
And though a score of years have gone since he departed hence,
I still revere his deity, The God of Common-sense.
How often I have played the ass (Man's universal fate),
Yet always I have saved myself before it was too late;
How often tangled with a dame - you know how these things are,
Yet always had the gumption not to carry on too far;
Remembering that fancy skirts, however high they go,
Are not to be stacked up against a bunch of hard-earned dough;
And sentiment has little weight compared with pounds and pence,
According to the gospel of the God of Common-sense.
Oh blessing on that old hair-brush my Daddy used to whack
With such benign precision on the basement of my back.
Oh blessings on his wisdom, saying: "Son, don't play the fool,
Let prudence be your counselor and reason be your rule.
Don't get romantic notions, always act with judgment calm,
Poetical emotions ain't in practice worth a damn/
let solid comfort be your goal, self-interest your guide. . . ."
Then just as if to emphasize, whack! whack! the brush he plied.
And so I often wonder if my luck is Providence,
or just my humble tribute to the God of Common-sense.
poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Smile Once More
Brush away the tears within your eyes,
Sweep out all despair and smile once more.
Let the years leave you with feelings wise,
Keeping all you've gleaned, safely in store.
Use this knowledge profoundly when you can,
Waste it not, your days have fruitful been.
Value all you've learnt since your life began,
And find happiness in everything you've seen.
Brush away the tears within your eyes,
Let sunshine freely enter and take their place.
And as the weeping seeps away and dries,
A happier time of life, you will embrace.
For there is always hopefulness in the soul,
Such brightness hidden there behind the cloud.
Making our melancholy spirits whole,
When smiling once more, we feel truly endowed.
poem by Ernestine Northover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
If you take 67 brush fires times 10 years, that's almost 700 right there. Those brush fires are incredibly dangerous, all those homes going down proved that.
quote by Joseph Wambaugh
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Litter goes here
Oh! What a strange place at last I found?
Really it's stinking because the human trash.
But it's little better than some other places.
I brush up my brief resume and thought
If I get a position here somehow
At least I could have survived for sometimes.
They might have read my complicated mind;
'Sorry, this is a place for Machinery only
And Manpower is not necessary.'
'I believe that I too a machine some kind dear,
They use me when they need and chase me when disliked.'
* To my Persian Boss who firmly believes that one plus one is eleven?
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
0010 Memory
and brought back with her
the first few primroses she did not pick
tucked neat into the hedgerow
a wisp of sheepwool
caught on wire she did not touch
a dewdro p which the sun caught as she passed
rabbits who lifted softbrush ears
paused then hopped away and yet not fast
a slight breeze which did not touch the primroses
which blew the wisp of sheepwool a little for a moment
which trembled the dewdro p into colours
and yet it stayed on the grass stalk
in the night
the primroses sheltered in her and grew imperceptibly
the sheepwool almost touched her
the dewdro p joined the air around her
the rabbits slept close to her
the breeze sighed and waited outside the window
in the morning they awoke together
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Beautiful Thoughts
I remember a rustic place
way back from the road
hidden by brush and trees
overlooked if you didn't know
each day I'd pass and strain
to see more than the day before
bus driver might have slowed down
if I had asked her
but I didn't want to share
that place with the others
I imagine an area cleared out behind it
perfect to grow plants, all kinds
pots randomly place on the stoop
with flowers flowing down
a spicket to water them with
and bird houses all around
a hammock made for love
at a secret place in the woods
sounds of a creek nearby
and you with some of your books
I imagine we'd talk for hours
you'd read as I caressed your skin
sharing thoughts about everything
until one of us gave in
all the time in the world
to be near and learn all you are
protected safe in our secret place
like you are in my heart
poem by La La La Laurie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Let me brush your tangled Hair
My sweet baby gets up after dark
A runs fast through the quiet green park
Returning looks tiered as she flops in the armchair
I say relax sweety let me brush your tangled hair
Darling looks fantastic as she sets off for work
Running phoning faxing and training the new clerk
Baby does a great job she’s an angel she really does care
When she gets home I say relax let me brush your tangled hair
After dinner and all the dishes are done
I dim the lights pop the cork now starts the fun
We roll scream and shout its the best ever I swear
Then she says to me let me brush your tangled hair
poem by David Darbyshire
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
In The Jungle
I am running through the brush
Oh the wind it slaps my face
I am running through the dirt
Running towards my fate
In this place
I am one with nature
In this place
I feel no pressure
So free so free
I’m somehow blessed
To be free so free
From everything else I can now rest
I’m in the jungle
All alone
That’s how I like it
To everybody else I am unknown
How could I wish to be a gem?
When I can be myself
There is no need to be like them
If I am allowed to be myself
poem by German Alcala
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
All's alike at the latter day: a bag of gold and wisp of hay.