Many court the child for the sake of the nurse.
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Many caress the child for the sake of the wet nurse.
One kisses the nurse for the sake of the child.
To Alison Cunningham, From Her Boy
For the long nights you lay awake
And watched for my unworthy sake:
For your most comfortable hand
That led me through the uneven land:
For all the story-books you read:
For all the pains you comforted:
For all you pitied, all you bore,
In sad and happy days of yore:-
My second Mother, my first Wife,
The angel of my infant life-
From the sick child, now well and old,
Take, nurse, the little book you hold!
And grant it, Heaven, that all who read
May find as dear a nurse at need,
And every child who lists my rhyme,
In the bright, fireside, nursery clime,
May hear it in as kind a voice
As made my childish days rejoice!
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
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The nurse was like a mother to him
He could not speak,
He could not move
Kept lying
On the hospital bed
With eager eyes
Kept looking at the door
He was waiting
For the nurse to arrive
His face lit up
When he saw the nurse
Greeted her with a big smile
How are you?
And good morning she said
To show his happiness
He giggled a bit
And looked into her eyes
His eyes got wet
As if he got
everything he wanted
The nurse was like
a mother to him
He was like a child to her
Did everything
what a child needed
Love and care she provided
Never did he felt
The absence of his mother
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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This Court
This court is
Not final court.
It has got no
Unlimitted power.
This court is
Not empower to
Pass final judgement
And final decree.
The order of
This court is
Not binding.
This court has
No discretionary power
This court lacks
Original jurisdiction.
This court is
Not a real court.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Regent's Court
Regent's court
Is the court were the police brings the criminals to be sentenced
Every singe day during the week
Some criminals caused serious offences in the city
That they need to be punished by the Regent's court
Also some of the Judges will be hard on the criminals
Because they need to pay for what they done to their victims
And the crown procecutor also works with the judges at Regent's court
But the criminals have their lawyers at the court that defends the Criminals because the criminals are their clients
When the day comes for the judges at the Regent's Court to deliver The sentence for each criminal every single day they will be there At The Regent's Court every single day giving the sentence to the criminals depending on what crime they commited like assault, Domestic violence, child abuse,
Drug trafficking, manslaughter, and murder
For first degree murder is 25 years and for the second degree murder is less
poem by Aldo Kraas
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A Child
A child,
Curious and innocent,
Slips from his Nurse, and rejoicing
Loses himself in the Fair.
Thro' the jostle and din
Wandering, he revels,
Dreaming, desiring, possessing;
Till, of a sudden
Tired and afraid, he beholds
The sordid assemblage
Just as it is; and he runs
With a sob to his Nurse
(Lighting at last on him),
And in her motherly bosom
Cries him to sleep.
Thus thro' the World,
Seeing and feeling and knowing,
Goes Man: till at last,
Tired of experience, he turns
To the friendly and comforting breast
Of the old nurse, Death.
poem by William Ernest Henley
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Night Nurse
Tell her try her best just to make it quick
Woman tend to the sick
Because there must be something she can do
This heart is broken in two
Tell her its a case of emergency
Theres a patient by the name of mickey
Night nurse
Only you alone can quench this here thirst
My night nurse oh god
Oh the pain is getting worse
I dont want to see no doc
I need attendance from my nurse around the clock
Because theres no prescription for me
Shes the one the only remedy
My night nurse
Only you alone can quench this here thirst
My night nurse
Oh the pain is getting worse
Im hurt my love
I dont want to see no doc
I need attendance from my nurse around the clock
Because there s no prescription for me
Shes the one the only remedy
Night nurse
Only you alone can quench this here thirst
My night nurse
Oh the pain is getting worse
Im hurt my love
And Im sure no no doctor got a cure
My night nurse
My night nurse
My night nurse
song performed by by Simply Red
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Birth of Love
When Love was born of heavenly line,
What dire intrigues disturbed Cythera's joy!
Till Venus cried, 'A mother's heart is mine;
None but myself shall nurse my boy,'
But, infant as he was, the child
In that divine embrace enchanted lay;
And, by the beauty of the vase beguiled,
Forgot the beverage--and pined away.
'And must my offspring languish in my sight?'
(Alive to all a mother's pain,
The Queen of Beauty thus her court addressed)
'No: Let the most discreet of all my train
Receive him to her breast:
Think all, he is the God of young delight.'
Then TENDERNESS with CANDOUR joined,
And GAIETY the charming office sought;
Nor even DELICACY stayed behind:
But none of those fair Graces brought
Wherewith to nurse the child--and still he pined.
Some fond hearts to COMPLIANCE seemed inclined;
But she had surely spoiled the boy:
And sad experience forbade a thought
On the wild Goddess of VOLUPTUOUS JOY.
Long undecided lay th' important choice,
Till of the beauteous court, at length, a voice
Pronounced the name of HOPE:--The conscious child
Stretched forth his little arms, and smiled.
'Tis said ENJOYMENT (who averred
The charge belonged to her alone)
Jealous that HOPE had been preferred
Laid snares to make the babe her own.
Of INNOCENCE the garb she took,
The blushing mien and downcast look;
And came her services to proffer:
And HOPE (what has not Hope believed!)
By that seducing air deceived,
Accepted of the offer.
It happened that, to sleep inclined,
Deluded HOPE: for one short hour
To that false INNOCENCE'S power
Her little charge consigned.
The Goddess then her lap with sweetmeats filled
And gave, in handfuls gave, the treacherous store:
A wild delirium first the infant thrilled;
But soon upon her breast he sunk--to wake no more.
poem by William Wordsworth
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How It Was I Came To Be What I Am
[from early poems,1970's, youthful attempts at voice]
For 'Spider' Bottas
They would argue over tides
Who bade me come into the world.
One said, Six o'clock.
The other, No, twelve.
I was born at the thirteenth hour
All the while mother arguing,
This is not the time but a little spell,
While father argued it was death,
You are dying and your child, too,
Is dying. You have been poisoned.
It was full moon and high tide,
The hour of birth.
All arguments yielded to the tide's.
The moon lit up the stadium
Of their gripes while I was
Born amidst their sweeps at
Each other, the nurse neglecting
To wipe me free of blood and salt
Being drawn into their strife.
He was born at day, one said.
No, at night, and he is a she,
Said the other. The nurse,
Speaking truthfully, said,
Cleaning me at last, No,
You are both right. The child
Is he and she, a hermaphrodite
Born of two days labor, its head
Out of the womb the duration.
Ruination! father cried.
Fame, mother sighed.
Both right, the nurse agreed,
Of these fables are made.
Then father tossed me into the sea.
The nurse saved me who later
Became my lover, hiding my
Sexes with a four leaf clover.
poem by Warren Falcon
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It has been a privilege to pursue knowledge for its own sake and to see how it might help mankind in more practical ways.
quote by Paul Nurse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One kisses the child for the mother's sake, and the mother for the child's sake.
Some people just court celebrity for the sake of it.
quote by Jon Bon Jovi
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Burlesque
Of the modern versifications of
ancient legendary tales. - An impromptu.
The tender infant, meek and mild,
Fell down upon the stone:
The nurse took p the squealing child,
But still the child squeal'd on.
poem by Samuel Johnson
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You're A Good Man Albert Brown
Well you're a good man albert brown
And you was wounded in the war
And though you shot some people down
You're still a good man albert brown
Well you're a good man albert brown
Though you are drunk upon the floor
And if you're buying the next round
Then you're a good man albert...
Brown was the colour of the mud across the somme
Red was the blood you spilled upon it
Pink were the fingers of the nurse who dressed your wound
White was the starch upon her bonnet
And you married that nurse
And her name was else
And then along came dad
...i'll have another pint of...
Brown is the colour of your old walking boots
Green is the cash you'd love to squander
Gold is the colour of your wife's faithful heart
So get yourself home, no more to wander
And you married that nurse
And her name's still else
And another child was had
You're a good man albert brown
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Fiftieth Birthday Of Agassiz. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The First)
It was fifty years ago
In the pleasant month of May,
In the beautiful Pays de Vaud,
A child in its cradle lay.
And Nature, the old nurse, took
The child upon her knee,
Saying: 'Here is a story-book
Thy Father has written for thee.'
'Come, wander with me,' she said,
'Into regions yet untrod;
And read what is still unread
In the manuscripts of God.'
And he wandered away and away
With Nature, the dear old nurse,
Who sang to him night and day
The rhymes of the universe.
And whenever the way seemed long,
Or his heart began to fail,
She would sing a more wonderful song,
Or tell a more marvellous tale.
So she keeps him still a child,
And will not let him go,
Though at times his heart beats wild
For the beautiful Pays de Vaud;
Though at times he hears in his dreams
The Ranz des Vaches of old,
And the rush of mountain streams
From glaciers clear and cold;
And the mother at home says, 'Hark!
For his voice I listen and yearn;
It is growing late and dark,
And my boy does not return!'
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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People will say that it's some kind of evasion, but I would never want to have a kid for me. I'd want to have the child for the child's sake, if that makes sense.
quote by Jeremy Northam
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Raderus
Why this man gelded Martial I muse,
Except himself alone his tricks would use,
As Katherine, for the court's sake, put down stews.
poem by John Donne
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Mother and child
Who nurses better-
Mother or wife? Mother
Whom does one nurse better-
Child or mother? Child
Husband is unfortunate.
13.12.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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