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Courtesy
Of Courtesy, it is much less
Than Courage of Heart or Holiness,
Yet in my Walks it seems to me
That the Grace of God is in Courtesy.
On Monks I did in Storrington fall,
They took me straight into their Hall;
I saw Three Pictures on a wall,
And Courtesy was in them all.
The first the Annunciation;
The second the Visitation;
The third the Consolation,
Of God that was Our Lady's Son.
The first was of St. Gabriel;
On Wings a-flame from Heaven he fell;
And as he went upon one knee
He shone with Heavenly Courtesy.
Our Lady out of Nazareth rode -
It was Her month of heavy load;
Yet was her face both great and kind,
For Courtesy was in Her Mind.
The third it was our Little Lord,
Whom all the Kings in arms adored;
He was so small you could not see
His large intent of Courtesy.
Our Lord, that was Our Lady's Son,
Go bless you, People, one by one;
My Rhyme is written, my work is done.
poem by Hilaire Belloc
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Courtesy
I remember years ago
when courtesy was quite normal
amongst most people.
Giving up your seat on a bus
to someone elderly or a mum to be.
Opening the door for a woman
or someone struggling with something.
Being polite to everyone, you met.
Courtesy and respect
then used to hold each other’s hand,
but not anymore, I am afraid.
They have almost vanished
through the passing of time.
Some youngsters swear at you
instead of saying thank you
when you offer to help them out a bit.
The helping hands are hardly ever there
when you need one occasionally.
Instead, they just ignore you
and pass on their way.
I hope someone soon will think
of having a courtesy day.
A day when the whole world
can back on track
with giving a little courtesy every day.
27 April 2009
poem by David Harris
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There is a courtesy of the heart it is allied to love. From it springs the purest courtesy in the outward behavior.
There is a courtesy of the heart it is allied to love. From it springs the purest courtesy in the outward behavior.
There is a courtesy of the heart; it is allied to love. From its springs the purest courtesy in the outward behavior.
Ladies First
Pamela Purse yelled, 'Ladies first,'
Pushing in front of the ice cream line.
Pamela Purse yelled, 'Ladies first,'
Grabbing the ketchup at dinnertime.
Climbing on the morning bus
She'd shove right by all of us
And there'd be a tiff or a fight or a fuss
When Pamela Purse yelled, 'Ladies first.'
Pamela Purse screamed, 'Ladies first,'
When we went off on our jungle trip.
Pamela Purse said her thirst was worse
And guzzled our water, every sip.
And when we got grabbed by that wild savage band,
Who tied us together and made us all stand
In a long line in front of the King of the land-
A cannibal known as Fry-'Em-Up Dan,
Who sat on his throne in a bib so grand
With a lick of his lips and a fork in his hand,
As he tried to decide who'd be first in the pan-
From back of the line, in that shrill voice of hers,
Pamela Purse yelled, 'Ladies first.'
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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Grabby Gabby
Grabby Gabby was a little boy who was talking all the time
One day as he was walking, he saw on the sidewalk a dime
This started him to be grabby
Whenever he saw something shining, he would be grabby
One3 dayas he was walking, he saw a black shining lady's purse
He grabbed it and looked inside and found a lot of money in the purse
Also, he found a driver's license so he knew who the person was who owned the purse
So, he hurried to the ladie's house to return the purse
She was so happy that Grabby Gabby returned to her the purse and money
She gave him a reward of a large amount of money
June 29,2006, Clarence A. Graham, Jr.
poem by Jr. Clarence A. Graham
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Terse Verse
Terse little verse, gold from beauties purse
In my soul thou so give
And on its worth my life I live
Terse little verse, gold from beauties purse
Love is a morsel of thine treasure
In one ounce is my immense pleasure
Terse little verse, gold from beauties purse
Sing like a muse
and in poetry fuse
my soul into verse from beauties purse
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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I'd like to say from the beginning that the 12 years I've been coming here, I've met unfailing courtesy and cooperation, courtesy from your people and cooperation from the Ministry of Information.
quote by Peter Arnett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An empty purse can't stand alone and a full purse can't bend.
Good Behavior and courtesy are needed for everything!
It is a common scene
At the market
When we go for shopping
The sellers sell their goods
The customers buy
But good behavior and courtesy are needed among them
Prophet Zabber Ibn Abdullah (RA) said Allah shows his mercy and love towards those who have patience and good courtesy
Even the sellers and customers
Should have patience, speak with good courtesy and posses good behavior
As a result, their relationship become sweet
And they are blessed by Allah! !
Sources: Bukhari Shorif
poem by Z.I. Mahmud
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It Is Against Law
a cat stretches her back
this is a yawning
a cat is quite courteous
a cat greets by yawning
instead of shouting and babbling
I like a cat
I admire a cat
next time I see my lady friend
I shall greet her with utmost courtesy
I shall stretch my back and yawn
right in front of her
two dogs introduce themselves
by sniffing each other's behind
usually by a fire hydrant
is that a courtesy?
next time I see my lady friend
in front of a fire station
I shall greet her with utmost courtesy
I shall.......
it is against law
just yawn
like a polite cat
poem by Suchoon Mo_
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Empty pockets empty purse
Inside my pockets
the wind..
continues to play
an old game, hide and seek
But then too bored,
not pleased enough
starts searching for
a playmate or a friend
who does he find?
Just take a guess? ?
My purse, thats right!
The wind tries hard to
hook him up
and Mr Purse?
naahh...
Too lazy and too weak..
promises to play
actually starts but
then, just hide away and
sleep.
Sweet dreams, you clever
empty Mr Purse,
Sweet dreams! !
poem by Elena Sandu
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Peace to Turmoil
When I omitted a line to read
I felt I lost the cost to that extent in
A tamil weekly that I then bought
With four annas of my privy purse.
I now buy it for seven rupees
To see across and throw it.
Is it due to the purging of my purse
Or mind running ahead of events?
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Fort Lauderdale Chamber Of Commerce
(words & music by tepper - bennett)
Girls on the beaches commit a sin
They dont show yards and yards of skin
Preceding message to you has been
Through the courtesy of the fort lauderdale chamber of commerce
Maybe your yen is for tennis courts
Maybe romancing is in your thoughts
Enjoy all outdoor and indoor sports
Through the courtesy of the fort lauderdale chamber of commerce
Any male in fort lauderdale who is not pursuing a cute female
Will automatically land in jail
Thats the law in fort lauderdale
Pretty girls eighteen to twenty-three
If their technique aint what it should be
Get love instruction for free from me
Through the courtesy of the fort lauderdale chamber of commerce
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ferry Me Across The Water
‘Ferry me across the water,
Do, boatman, do.’
‘If you've a penny in your purse
I'll ferry you.’
‘I have a penny in my purse,
And my eyes are blue;
So ferry me across the water,
Do, boatman, do.’
‘Step into my ferry-boat,
Be they black or blue,
And for the penny in your purse
I'll ferry you.’
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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The Song Of Courtesy
I
When Sir Gawain was led to his bridal-bed,
By Arthur's knights in scorn God-sped:-
How think you he felt?
O the bride within
Was yellow and dry as a snake's old skin;
Loathly as sin!
Scarcely faceable,
Quite unembraceable;
With a hog's bristle on a hag's chin! -
Gentle Gawain felt as should we,
Little of Love's soft fire knew he:
But he was the Knight of Courtesy.
II
When that evil lady he lay beside
Bade him turn to greet his bride,
What think you he did?
O, to spare her pain,
And let not his loathing her loathliness vain
Mirror too plain,
Sadly, sighingly,
Almost dyingly,
Turned he and kissed her once and again.
Like Sir Gawain, gentles, should we?
SILENT, ALL! But for pattern agree
There's none like the Knight of Courtesy.
III
Sir Gawain sprang up amid laces and curls:
Kisses are not wasted pearls:-
What clung in his arms?
O, a maiden flower,
Burning with blushes the sweet bride-bower,
Beauty her dower!
Breathing perfumingly;
Shall I live bloomingly,
Said she, by day, or the bridal hour?
Thereat he clasped her, and whispered he,
Thine, rare bride, the choice shall be.
Said she, Twice blest is Courtesy!
IV
Of gentle Sir Gawain they had no sport,
When it was morning in Arthur's court;
What think you they cried?
Now, life and eyes!
This bride is the very Saint's dream of a prize,
Fresh from the skies!
See ye not, Courtesy
Is the true Alchemy,
Turning to gold all it touches and tries?
Like the true knight, so may we
Make the basest that there be
Beautiful by Courtesy!
poem by George Meredith
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First I Look At The Purse
(william robinson/robert rogers)
Some fellows look at the eyes
Some fellows look at the nose
Some fellows look at the size
Some fellows look at the clothes
I dont care if her eyes are red
I dont care if her nose is long
I dont care if shes underfeed
I dont care if her clothes are wrong
First I look at the purse.
Some fellows like the smiles they wear
Some fellows like the legs that talk
Some fellows like the style of their hair,
They want the waist line to be small.
I dont care if their legs all vein
I dont care if their teeth are big
I dont care if she wears a ring
Why waste time looking at the waist line
Cause first I look at the purse....yeah!
A woman can be as fine as can be
Kisses sweeter than honey
That dont mean a thing to me,
If you aint got no money, baby.
Cause if the purse is fat, thats where its at. yeahaa...
Some fellows like the way they walk,
The way they swing and sway.
Some fellows like the way they talk,
If they can talk talk all day.
I dont care if she waddles like a duck or talks with a lisp
I still think Im in good luck if the dollar bills are crisp
Cause first I look at the purse....yeah yeah
Keep an eye on the money
Womans got to have some fine greenbacks hah
I aint greedy guys,
Oh I dont wanna work no more
song performed by by Rod Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In The Garden At Swainston
NIGHTINGALES warbled without,
Within was weeping for thee:
Shadows of three dead men
Walk'd in the walks with me:
Shadows of three dead men, and thou wast one of the three.
Nightingales sang in the woods:
The Master was far away:
Nightingales warbled and sang
Of a passion that lasts but a day;
Still in the house in his coffin the Prince of courtesy lay.
Two dead men have I known
In courtesy like to thee:
Two dead men have I loved
With a love that ever will be:
Three dead men have I loved, and thou art last of the three.
poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Sunday morning
Through a
filth-laden
plate glass
window,
I saw
her standing.
Wearing her
Sunday best.
Her thick black
hands hung down
in front of her
meaty thighs,
each grasping
on to her purse strap.
Patiently waiting
for the bus.
Shining off
of her
ample face,
a sun which
suggested
faith's glowing
promise
in the afterlife.
A beautiful,
too perfect,
blue-skied
Sunday morning,
contrasted the
depressed ghetto
surroundings
and the stench
of the
laundromat
I was cleaning.
Suddenly,
a knife
plunged
in to the side
of her head,
just below her bonnet.
Her thick right hand
covered the wound,
as her left refused
to surrender her purse.
She screamed
and cursed at
her assailant
as he ran off,
empty handed.
Wailing uncontrollably,
her hysterics equaled
the brutal attack
she had endured
Blood continued
to run
down her face,
between her
fingers and
onto her dress.
Her purse was saved.
Her life spared from
the vicious attack.
To the assailant,
the contents of
her purse meant
more than her life.
The ambulance
came soon-after.
She lived.
I wasn't
the only
witness
that morning.
God was
watching too.
She lived.
And her after-life
didn't occur
on that
fate-filled
Sunday morning.
I finished my
bologna sandwich,
sipped my Pepsi...
and went back to
sweeping the floors.
by
Tim Labbe`