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Wings
That Love has wings the poets say;
White wings where lights and shadows play,
Swift wings, that sail from shore to shore,
From sea to sea, or lightly soar
To happy Edens far away.
Where'er they gleam the world grows gay,
December smiles, and rosy May
With fluttering transport feels once more
That Love has wings.
But Youth is fond, and hearts are clay,
And faults deceive, and doubts betray,
And some forget the winning lore
That drew the blessing to their door,
And learn too late—ah, well-a-day!—
That Love has wings.
poem by Florence Earle Coates from Poems (1898)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Osmanthus Fragrans On The Moon
The Osmanthus Fragrans on the Moon,
I think it is also extremely aromatic.
Why not? It brings in Chang E,
The transcendent woman,the Goddess on the moon.
The fairy, the osmanthus flowers, the moon palace,
How far it causes people.
Because of the beauty of Chang E,
Mischief has swift wings to her.
Because of one's lust for power,
Woe betides The Osmanthus Fragrans.
In the cold moon palace, there is only
The Goddess of the moon, the fairy left aside.
By the Osmanthus Fragrans scattered, there is only
The cutting sound of WuGang's axe, sorrowful.
poem by Zhijian Jiang
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To mourn a mischief that is past and gone Is the next way to draw new mischief on.
quote by William Shakespeare
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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I Stopped In The Green Rice Field
they pass me by
and they did not notice
how i stop my walk
and
feasted on the white heron
on tall yellow legs
my eyes in wonder
the beauty without
my spirit has wings
lifted to the flight of the white
wings of that bird,
so light, so swift, so free.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It has been said that idleness is the parent of mischief, which is very true; but mischief itself is merely an attempt to escape from the dreary vacuum of idleness.
quote by George Borrow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Waltz Into Mischief
The latest and greatest
Amazing arrival
No conscience no shame
For the game of survival
Theives and villians
And fraudulent swindlers
Gathered in tribute
With masks of respect
A big hand hooray
Oh come all ye trustful
Let the band play
A waltz into mischief
The chairman is speaking
Instructs the apprentice
All faces are turned
To the wizard of sentence
Years of experience
Fall from his tongue
Like teardops to puddles
They ripple among
A big hand hooray
Oh come all ye trustful
Let the band play
A waltz into mischief
This king of the cowboys
Holds fast his deception
Rides their misgivings
To rapturous reception
Calls on the crowd
Of white pointed heads
To check under carpets
(while were in our beds? )
A big hand hooray
Oh come all ye trustful
Let the band play
A waltz into mischief
A big hand hooray
Oh come all ye trustful
Let the band play
A waltz into mischief
A big hand hooray
Oh come all ye trustful
Let the band play
A waltz into mischief
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Good News
my friends i am back
from a long lull, a sleep for years
rip van winkled, i wake up
discovering wings on my feet like Mercury
on my shoulders like Michael,
my friends, i could not wait to use this gift
i am flying! i am flying! on to the swift wings of
poetry!
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mischief & Control
There is a fire within all of us
There is a river flowing in your soul
To put out the fire when it gets out of control
There is a stranger in all of us
That we try to get to know
There is a wise woman in there, too
She's trying to run the show
I can not escape the constant equipoise
In between the mischief and control
Swinging from the pendulum of desires
In between the mischief and control
There is a painter in all of us
She knows exactly which brush to choose
She knows exactly where to make a stroke
But there's an army of voices
She might have to get through
There is a writer in all of us, yeah
He knows what to say and he knows when it's done
But then there's this twenty-foot blank page
You gotta fill, darling
Or you think your life has no meaning
I can not escape the constant equipoise
In between the mischief and control
Swinging from the pendulum of desires
In between the mischief and control
Excuses piling up like junkyards
We never want to sort through
Efficiently we hide our needs
And all along a voice is calling out please, please
'cause i'm so hungry and i'm so tired
I feel so lonely, i feel so wired
I need my angel...where is my angel
song performed by by Vonda Shepard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mischief Control
There is a fire within all of us
There is a river flowing in your soul
To put out the fire when it gets out of control
There is a stranger in all of us
That we try to get to know
There is a wise woman in there, too
Shes trying to run the show
I can not escape the constant equipoise
In between the mischief and control
Swinging from the pendulum of desires
In between the mischief and control
There is a painter in all of us
She knows exactly which brush to choose
She knows exactly where to make a stroke
But theres an army of voices
She might have to get through
There is a writer in all of us, yeah
He knows what to say and he knows when its done
But then theres this twenty-foot blank page
You gotta fill, darling
Or you think your life has no meaning
I can not escape the constant equipoise
In between the mischief and control
Swinging from the pendulum of desires
In between the mischief and control
Excuses piling up like junkyards
We never want to sort through
Efficiently we hide our needs
And all along a voice is calling out please, please
cause Im so hungry and Im so tired
I feel so lonely, I feel so wired
I need my angel...where is my angel
song performed by by Vonda Shepard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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How Much For Your Wings?
How much for your wings?
How much for your wings?
Well it comes and it goes
How much for your wings?
And its high and low
How much for your wings?
I can name a price
How much for your wings?
Many forget their pride
Chorus
If I were you and and you were me
Wed know
And could it be what you perceive
Is wrong?
And what I mean what wrong could be
I dont know
Im not naive but I believe
So I may grow
How much for your wings?
The soul you kiss good-bye
How much for your wings?
Watch the stars collide
How does it feel
When youre the only one?
song performed by by Black Crowes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Feelings Of A Fiancee
A fiancee, longing for her lover
who had gone to a distant place to earn,
To come back and embrace her, feels as follows:
While I see him again
After longing for him to come to me,
I don't find his faults and mischief;
While I don't see him for some time,
I don't see nothing but his faults
And mischief!
poem by V.K. Kanniappan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Imagine Freedom
the mind is always
our own
prison, we must
free ourselves
from the bars of all
these thoughts,
imagine that you are a dove
your wings
like the eagle's
your claws like the
tiger's
imagine, yes that is the key
to freedom
imagine that
imagination is a dove with wings and claws and
swift and
lost in the vastness
of space
like a grain of sand
in the
widest ocean
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On Angel Wings
On angel wings you do fly
On angel wings into the sky
On angel wings i do cry
Because those angel wings took you away
On angel wings the heralds sing
Is there no such lovely thing?
On angel wings you fly away.
I will see these angel wings again someday
When i am old and my time has come
On angel wings I will fly
Until I'm holding you once again
Smiling on angel wings.
poem by Troy Nichols
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On Angel Wings
On Angel Wings You Do Fly
On Angel Wings Into The Sky
On Angel Wings I Do Cry
Because Thise Angel Wings Took You Away
On Angel Wings The Angels Sing
Is There No Such Lovely Thing
On Angel Wings You Fly Away
I Will See Them Angel Wings Again Some Day
When I Am Old And My Time Has Come
On Angel Wings I Will Fly
Tell I See You Once Again
Smiling On Angel Wing
poem by Merceds Lilly
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Broken Wings
Broken wings
Broken wings
Twirls in ballroom gowns
Echos of glory
And reminders of things lost
Broken wings
Broken wings
Only feet to help carry on now
A thousand voices
Singing the same song
Broken wings
Broken wings
Feathers litter the ground
Where the proud used to stand
Where only broken wings remain
poem by Autumn Winds
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Upon The Wings Of The Sparrow
upon the wings of the sparrow
shall i be swift
upon the gentle coos of the dove
shall i be tranquil
upon the patience of the spider
(despite you calling it a cliche)
shall i always wait
for you....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If My Verses Had The Wings
Songs as sweet as summer brings,
To your flowery lawn should fly
If my verses had the wings—
Wings of birds that haunt the sky.
Like the spark that upward springs,
They would seek your smiling hearth,
If my verses had the wings—
Wings such as a spirth hath.
Near you, close as ivy clings,
They would dwell by night and day
If my verses had the wings—
Wings like love to speed the way.
poem by Victor Hugo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Having Wings
Having wings
I have wings
Wings so white
Wings that let me fly like a kite
Having wings is such a spontaneous
Why to say to say hey, I made it that way
Made it to graduation and made it to a promotion.
made it all over this nation
But now having wings makes me want to cry
Cry so hard ill probably drown in my tears
Ill cry because I know we didn’t say are last good- bye and
are final hug and kiss good- night
I dedicate this to my grandfather
poem by Marrissa Vera
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Nunc Dimmitus For Friend Chandra
The deep notes of the organ sound,
The choirboys look slyly round
to see what mischief they can find.
They look like angels but I find.
They’re really demons in disguise
a choirmaster must be wise.
They seem to have endless supplies
of mischief hid behind their eyes.
But I forgive them when they sing.
The treble voices echoing
high in the roofspace where they bring
pleasure to all those listening.
I love and hate them equally.
But now and then I can still see.
They’re not so different from me,
When I recall I used to be
a naughty little choirboy.
Full of tricks meant to annoy.
The mischief all small boys enjoy.
This knowledge which I now employ.
To keep my choirboys in line
Ensuring that they sound divine.
They do respond to discipline
just as I did when I was nine.
Each one posses a fine voice
sufficient reason to rejoice
I don’t regret I made the choice
to teach cathedral choirboys.
06/07/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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