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They that bourd with cats maun count upo' scarts. Thistles are a sailed for asses.
Harmony dies
A pinch will cause pain;
Previous kisses
Cannot sooth the pain.
A slap will cause sore;
Previous pats
Cannot sooth the sore.
This is the way how
A harmony dies.
02.305.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Help Me
When you spend your whole life
Building stone castles
When the walls start to crumble
Exposed to the world
When the wind burns my face
And the smoke burns my eyes
I cant ever cry
I cant ever cry
Chorus
You gotta help . . .
To make me somebody
You gotta help . . .
To open my eyes
The temperatures rising
How a cool drink would help
Ive been thirsty for years
Ive been thirsty for years
Im hungry for something . . .
Just the touch of your flesh
To sooth and refresh . . .
To sooth and refresh.
Chorus
song performed by by Oingo Boingo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My parents weigh more.
I shall weep, approaching death,
That my parents aren’t there
To nurse me and sooth me.
None else could assure me.
I shall weep, approaching death,
That I will not be there
To nurse and sooth my children
When they weep approaching death.
Who else could have that much
Interest that parents could display?
My children don’t equal
My parents to care about me.
15.09.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Guardian Angels
Guardians tread
In and out of our lives
They guide and protect
Souls lost in the dark
Should war demand
That we kill or fight
They are there
To give strength
And be brave
In our plight
Should shadows of darkness
Engulf the journey of life
They are there to help
To support and give light
They help carry burdens
As we struggle in life
Their our guardian angles
They give us new life
They sooth the prayers
Of family and friends
The sooth the nightmares
To make way for dreams
They are the….
Moonbeams that dance
Upon the sea, upon the land
They guide the stars
We gaze upon
They dance upon
The sunbeams of life
They whisper and smile
At our journey in life
Their voices caress
Sweet melodic songs
They gently blow
On the waves and the breeze
They reach out to guide
What's sacred in thee?
Our souls, our hearts
Our humanity
poem by Kaila George
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I sooth myself
If there is progress, it is God’s grace.
If not so, God is delaying.
If there is regress, God is mild.
Thus I sooth myself.
19.04.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Aiedail's Lullabye
Aiedail's Lullabye
Hush child of Aiedail
Sooth your aching soul
Hush dear child of Aiedail
For soon your world unfolds
Morphing from reality to dream
In a mere few minutes
So hush hush dear child
Dream of Aiedail
Sleep sleep sweet child
Let Aiedail sooth your fears
Though the moon sets
And Aiedail rises
Sleep on child sleep on
Rest in your world
Of sweetness and inncence
Happiness and truth
So hush dear child of Aiedail
Let the lullabye rock you to sleep
-Janelle Morehart-
(heh, give me guesses on what you think Aiedail is)
poem by Janelle Morehart
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Reiver's Wedding
O will ye hear a mirthful bourd?
Or will ye hear of courtesie?
Or will ye hear how a gallant lord
Was wedded to a gay ladye?
'Ca' out the kye,' quo' the village herd,
As he stood on the knowe,
'Ca' this ane's nine and that ane's ten,
And bauld Lord William's cow.'-
'I swear by the light of the Michaelmas moon,
And the might of Mary high,
And by the edge of my braidsword brown.
They shall soon say Harden's kye.'
He took a bugle frae his side,
With names carved o'er and o'er -
Full many a chief of meikle pride
That Border bugle bore-
He blew a note baith sharp and hie,
Till rock and water rang around-
Three score of moss-troopers and three
Have mounted at that bugle sound.
The Michaelmas moon had enter'd then,
And ere she wan the full,
Ye might see by her light in Harden glen
A bow o' kye and a bassen'd bull.
And loud and loud in Harden tower
The quaigh gaed round wi' meikle glee;
For the English beef was brought in bower
And the English ale flow'd merrilie.
And mony a guest from Teviotside
And Yarrow's Braes was there;
Was never a lord in Scotland wide
That made more dainty fare.
They ate, they laugh'd, they sang and quaff'd,
Till nought on board was seen,
When knight and squire were boune to dine,
But a spur of silver sheen.
Lord William has ta'en his berry brown steed-
A sore shent man was he;
'Wait he, my guests, a little speed-
Weel feasted ye shall be.'
He rode him down by Falsehope burn,
His cousin dear to see,
With him to take a riding turn-
Wat-draw-the-sword was he.
And when he came to Falsehope glen,
Beneath the trysting-tree,
On the smooth green was carved plain,
'To Lochwood bound are we.'
'O if they be gane to dark Lochwood
To drive the Warden's gear,
Betwixt our names, I ween, there's feud;
I'll go and have my share:
'For little reck I for Johnstone's feud,
The Warden though he be.'
So Lord William is away to dark Lochwood,
With riders barely three.
The Warden's daughters in Lochwood sate,
Were all both fair and gay,
All save the Lady Margaret,
And she was wan and wae.
The sister, Jean, had a full fair skin,
And Grace was bauld and braw;
But the leal-fast heart her breast within
It weel was worth them a'.
Her father's pranked her sisters twa
With meikle joy and pride;
But Margaret maun seek Dundrennan's wa'-
She ne'er can be a bride.
On spear and casque by gallants gent
Her sisters' scarfs were borne,
But never at tilt or tournament
Were Margaret's colours worn.
Her sisters rode to Thirlstane bower,
But she was left at hame
To wander round the gloomy tower,
And sigh young Harden's name.
'Of all the knights, the knight most fair,
From Yarrow to the Tyne,'
Soft sigh'd the maid, 'is Harden's heir,
But ne'er can he be mine;
'Of all the maids, the foulest maid
From Teviot to the Dee,
Ah!' sighing sad, that lady said,
'Can ne'er young Harden's be.'-
She looked up the briery glen,
And up the mossy brae,
And she saw a score of her father's men
Yclad in the Johnstone grey.
O fast and fast they downwards sped
The moss and briers among,
And in the midst the troopers led
A shackled knight along.
poem by Sir Walter Scott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Music has charms to sooth a savage breast, to soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak.
quote by William Congreve
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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They sooth the common
Food that is raw,
Bed that is straws,
Song that is coarse
And the woman dull,
Repelling though
To connoisseurs,
Yet sooth the common.
30.09.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rock & Roll Ride (Rock Lyrics) :
We tuned our guitars, we're ready to play our tune.
On a rock & roll ride.Guitar slide to the moon.
Heavy metal, hard rock & roll.
There's enough music to sooth the soul.
We got enough time, to reach the moon.
We got enough time, to play our tune.
Heavy metal, hard rock & roll.
There's enough music to sooth the soul.
Guitar slide, rocket ride in tune.
We built our rocket.We'll fly off to the moon.
Climb on board.No time to stay.It's time to say.
That we tuned our guitars.We're ready to play our tune.
We're off the ground.We'll be on our way real soon.
On a rock & roll ride.Guitar slide to the moon.
Heavy metal, hard rock & roll.
There's enough music to sooth the soul.
We got enough time, to reach the moon.
We got enough time, to play our tune.
On a rock & roll ride.Guitar slide to the moon...
Rock Lyrics By Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 1983,2009..
ALL rights reserved..
poem by Kim Robin Edwards
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Each has its lesson; for our dreams in sooth, come they in shape of demons, gods, or elves, are allegories with deep hearts of truth that tell us solemn secrets of ourselves.
quote by Henry Timrod
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Song Of The Happy Shepherd
THE woods of Arcady are dead,
And over is their antique joy;
Of old the world on dreaming fed;
Grey Truth is now her painted toy;
Yet still she turns her restless head:
But O, sick children of the world,
Of all the many changing things
In dreary dancing past us whirled,
To the cracked tune that Chronos sings,
Words alone are certain good.
Where are now the warring kings,
Word be-mockers? -- By the Rood,
Where are now the watring kings?
An idle word is now their glory,
By the stammering schoolboy said,
Reading some entangled story:
The kings of the old time are dead;
The wandering earth herself may be
Only a sudden flaming word,
In clanging space a moment heard,
Troubling the endless reverie.
Then nowise worship dusty deeds,
Nor seek, for this is also sooth,
To hunger fiercely after truth,
Lest all thy toiling only breeds
New dreams, new dreams; there is no truth
Saving in thine own heart. Seek, then,
No learning from the starry men,
Who follow with the optic glass
The whirling ways of stars that pass --
Seek, then, for this is also sooth,
No word of theirs -- the cold star-bane
Has cloven and rent their hearts in twain,
And dead is all their human truth.
Go gather by the humming sea
Some twisted, echo-harbouring shell.
And to its lips thy story tell,
And they thy comforters will be.
Rewording in melodious guile
Thy fretful words a little while,
Till they shall singing fade in ruth
And die a pearly brotherhood;
For words alone are certain good:
Sing, then, for this is also sooth.
I must be gone: there is a grave
Where daffodil and lily wave,
And I would please the hapless faun,
Buried under the sleepy ground,
With mirthful songs before the dawn.
His shouting days with mirth were crowned;
And still I dream he treads the lawn,
Walking ghostly in the dew,
Pierced by my glad singing through,
My songs of old earth's dreamy youth:
But ah! she dreams not now; dream thou!
For fair are poppies on the brow:
Dream, dream, for this is also sooth.
poem by William Butler Yeats
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Either comforts or image
Remember that you are bad
Just like everyone,
And that you are good
Just like everyone.
Remember that you are hard
Just like everyone
And that you are soft
Just like everyone.
Being positive, you sooth yourself.
Being negative, you damage yourself.
21.04.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Types of injuries
Injuries from the sports sooth.
Injuries from the assaults loom.
Your sufferings are inconsistent
With the effects but the causes.
22.05.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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