The castle gates will always open for gold-laden donkeys.
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A mule laden with gold is welcome at every castle.
The Gates to Heaven
The gates to heaven
is wide open...
For me to walk
through it.
The gates are
made out of gold...
I can’t wait until
I walk through...
The gates of heaven.
Oh how much I
want to see
God...
But the gates: are
the gates to Heaven..
poem by Lisa Parks
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It's Forth Across The Roaring Foam
IT'S forth across the roaring foam, and on towards the west,
It's many a lonely league from home, o'er many a mountain crest,
From where the dogs of Scotland call the sheep around the fold,
To where the flags are flying beside the Gates of Gold.
Where all the deep-sea galleons ride that come to bring the corn,
Where falls the fog at eventide and blows the breeze at morn;
It's there that I was sick and sad, alone and poor and cold,
In yon distressful city beside the Gates of Gold.
I slept as one that nothing knows; but far along my way,
Before the morning God rose and planned the coming day;
Afar before me forth he went, as through the sands of old,
And chose the friends to help me beside the Gates of Gold.
I have been near, I have been far, my back's been at the wall,
Yet aye and ever shone the star to guide me through it all:
The love of God, the help of man, they both shall make me bold
Against the gates of darkness as beside the Gates of Gold.
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
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Death in Battle
Open the gates for me,
Open the gates of the peaceful castle, rosy in the West,
In the sweet dim Isle of Apples over the wide sea’s breast,
Open the gates for me!
Sorely pressed have I been
And driven and hurt beyond bearing this summer day,
But the heat and the pain together suddenly fall away,
All’s cool and green.
But a moment agone,
Among men cursing in fight and toiling, blinded I fought,
But the labour passed on a sudden even as a passing thought,
And now—alone!
Ah, to be ever alone,
In flowery valleys among the mountains and silent wastes untrod,
In the dewy upland places, in the garden of God,
This would atone!
I shall not see
The brutal, crowded faces around me, that in their toil have grown
Into the faces of devils—yea, even as my own—
When I find thee,
O Country of Dreams!
Beyond the tide of the ocean, hidden and sunk away,
Out of the sound of battles, near to the end of day,
Full of dim woods and streams.
poem by Clive Staples Lewis
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Hors-d’oeuvre
Long ago and far away
lived a knight not so bold
and he often considered
how he would rescue a damsel in distress.
Not being bold or handsome to
the knight wondered what he should do.
Then came a day
when his lady fair was kidnapped
and the knight was perplexed
at what he should do.
Mounting his steed he galloped
to the castle where she was held.
The walls of the castle
seem to stretch to the sky.
How was he to save her
and rescue her virtue from these wicked men?
He could not scale this fortress
and breech its stone walls,
From within the walls he heard
groans and wails ring out.
The thoughts of them
stealing her virtue
made his voice ring out.
“Open the gates and let me in.”
The gates duly opened
and the knight with sword in hand
quickly rode his steed in.
There was his lady fair
being ravished by several men.
“Leave ye lady fair alone.”
The knight was taken back
as his lady fair’s voice
echoed in his ears.
“Be gone you silly knight,
can’t you see this lady
wants to have some fun.”
6-7 September 2010
poem by David Harris
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Church—Door Should Still Stand Open
Church-doors should still stand open, night and day,
Open to all who come for praise or prayer,
Laden with gift of love or load of care,
Nimbused with gold, or flecked with locks of gray,
Mother, or snow-white bride, or pallid clay,
The blithe, the sad, the uncomely as the fair,
Each on his secret errand wending there,
Nor even the mighty and strong be turned away.
And so the poet's heart should ever be
Portal of joy and welcomer of woe,
That makes the deaf to hear, the blind to see,
Open confessional for high and low,
An unshut shrine where all may come and go,
And by their tears an enriched sanctuary.
poem by Alfred Austin
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World's Desire
Love, there is a castle built in a country desolate,
On a rock above a forest where the trees are grim and great,
Blasted with the lightning sharp-giant boulders strewn between,
And the mountains rise above, and the cold ravine
Echoes to the crushing roar and thunder of a mighty river
Raging down a cataract. Very tower and forest quiver
And the grey wolves are afraid and the call of birds is drowned,
And the thought and speech of man in the boiling water's sound.
But upon the further side of the barren, sharp ravine
With the sunlight on its turrets is the castle seen,
Calm and very wonderful, white above the green
Of the wet and waving forest, slanted all away,
Because the driving Northern wind will not rest by night or day.
Yet the towers are sure above, very mighty is the stead,
The gates are made of ivory, the roofs of copper red.
Round and round the warders grave walk upon the walls for ever
And the wakeful dragons couch in the ports of ivory,
Nothing is can trouble it, hate of the gods nor man's endeavour,
And it shall be a resting-place, dear heart, for you and me.
Through the wet and waving forest with an age-old sorrow laden
Singing of the world's regret wanders wild the faerie maiden,
Through the thistle and the brier, through the tangles of the thorn,
Till her eyes be dim with weeping and her homeless feet are torn.
Often to the castle gate up she looks with vain endeavour,
For her soulless loveliness to the castle winneth never.
But within the sacred court, hidden high upon the mountain,
Wandering in the castle gardens lovely folk enough there be,
Breathing in another air, drinking of a purer fountain
And among that folk, beloved, there's a place for you and me
poem by Clive Staples Lewis
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On the subject of Osama bin Laden... we will track him down. We will capture him. We will bring him to justice, and I will follow him to the gates of hell.
quote by John McCain
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sad Death
Sad are people who lie and give death,
Your sin is special, even though murder is not,
And deathly bridges are traversed by the spirit,
To accuse no one wrongly and no one is in fight or trouble.
Openly, gate has been served and automated,
Made and consumed by the people who eat,
Their living is again the standard of meat,
The standards of meat are greater and superior.
Gates must open for the guests who change,
They fix a notion on whoever is proud of joyous occasions.
Gates after gates are opened to the glad,
And speaking those notions may damage the very gladness
That doors bring, that gates sing.
poem by Naveed Akram
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When God Opens Heaven's Gates
When God opens Heaven's gates
As we cross that gulf so wide,
The arms of Jesus open
As our soul will there abide.
When God opens heaven's gates
We'll see beauty all around,
Our loved ones, too, will greet us,
As we leave this earth behind.
When God opens Heaven's gates
There'll be singing angels there,
The awesome peace and joyfulness
Will permeate the air.
As God opens Heaven's gates
And His Light takes place of day,
Jesus welcomes us forever
As the ones who found "The Way."
poem by Gloria Davis Walker
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Open The Gates Of Happiness
Open the gates of happiness to astound the cherished soul,
May forgiven people follow and let them repent further.
Once the repentance stops close those gates they build,
So that forgiving can be a virtue of the highest strength.
May living beings experience the stopping and starting
So rare in the path of life, so confined we all are.
This is needed, forever in the mind, and gates are built,
To enter them is like providing for your own soul.
poem by Naveed Akram
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My Castle In A Tree
As the sweet rain smears the watercolor world
And the beams of sunshine are stirred into it
As the trees ripple and splash around me
And my knees melt into the ground
The enormous trunk looms before me
My castle in a tree
Roots run in muscular veins down the mammoth redwood
They are the perfect staircase for me to ascend
As my swollen tears float off to space
The castle doors open to greet me
And my face is bathed in lamplight from within
My castle in a tree
The walls breathe a sigh of welcome
Flames leap onto every white wax candle
I take off my sandals so that my ancient feet
Warm the polished wooden floor
The world, it shivers before me in
My castle in a tree
The leaves, they let the sunlight in
But guard me from the things that lurk
Just beyond the edge of the earth
So that he not a one can see me
And there is not a thing at all to remember in
My castle in a tree
At once it evaporates into the golden sky
My hands and legs enflame before me
All the world is drowned in blackness and
Leaves not a single silver bubble
This is the death, the murder of
My castle in a tree
poem by Christopher R. Kennedy
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A castle stands ’neath western skies
A castle stands ’neath western skies
Gold shields its roof have studded;
The evening sun behind it dies
Midst cloud banks so newly ruddied.
That castle by no hand is wrought:
Perfectly though it’s gilded;
Its gate soars up to heaven’s court;
Our Lord Himself did once built it.
From thousand turrets sparkles gold,
Amber its gate is gleaming;
The sea reflects its walls of old,
With pillars of sun’s rays teeming.
God’s sun into its castle crowds,
Purple raiment inflaming,
On battlements in rosy clouds
Light’s banner’s glory proclaiming.
Sun’s angel waves the flag of light,
Sets off for distant quarters;
Life, light and day him follow right
Behind night’s loud foaming waters.
And like the sun life seeks the coast
Full of transfiguration
Where sun the east once more will host
With paradise as its station.
poem by Bernhard Severin Ingemann
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An ass is but an ass, though laden with gold.
Fast rode the knight
Fast rode the knight
With spurs, hot and reeking,
Ever waving an eager sword,
"To save my lady!"
Fast rode the knight,
And leaped from saddle to war.
Men of steel flickered and gleamed
Like riot of silver lights,
And the gold of the knight's good banner
Still waved on a castle wall.
. . . . . . . . . . . .
A horse,
Blowing, staggering, bloody thing,
Forgotten at foot of castle wall.
A horse
Dead at foot of castle wall.
poem by Stephen Crane
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Favorite Song
What if everything you had
Was like a castle made of sand
Why don't you open up your hand
and hold on tight
What if everything was wrong
and no one knew your favorite song
there is no one left to sing along
with you tonight
Everything is alright
I will see you tonight
Everything you want
is in your hands
And I can't help you decide
The battles you fight inside
and what hurts you
you don't understand
and it feels like there is nothing right
and its all the same to you anyways
What if everything you had
Was like a castle made of sand
Why don't you open up your hand
and hold on tight
What if everything was wrong
and no one knew your favorite song
there is no one left to sing along
with you tonight
The better place you wished for
is just outside your front door
still it never seemed so far away
Summer gave no reward
Until this day was dreamed for
wait to feel the sunlight
on your face
and it feels like there is nothing right
and its all the same to you anyways
What if everything you had
Was like a castle made of sand
Why don't you open up your hand
and hold on tight
What if everything was wrong
and no one knew your favorite song
there is no one left to sing along
with you tonight
You never know what to say
So you run in your hideaway
I see the shadow falling in the summer sun
So you never know what to say
It doesn't matter anyway
You'll heal inside
You'll feel this time
And if everything you had
Was like a castle made of sand
Why don't you open up your heart
and hold on tight
And if everything was wrong
I would sing your favorite song
and you would have to sing along
with me tonight
sing along with me tonight [x2]
What if everything was wrong
and no one knew your favorite song
song performed by by Nine Days from So Happily Unsatisfied
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Castle in the Sand
I built castle in the sand
Reaching to the far off land
I gathered the sand to mount it high
Thinking to built a castle in the sky
But fate took a different path
The castle I had built was down at last
The breeze blew
The castle flew...
I now sit here all alone
Gathering the sand to rebuild a home
But what a dream I did see
To always have him near by me
poem by Meena Mustafa
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The Heart Taken
The castle of the human heart
Strong in its native sin;
Is guarded well, in every part,
By him who dwells within.
For Satan there, in arms, resides,
And calls the place his own;
With care against assaults provides,
And rules, as on a throne.
Each traitor thought on him, as chief,
In blind obedience waits;
And pride, self-will, and unbelief,
Are posted at the gates.
Thus Satan for a season reigns,
And keeps his goods in peace;
The soul is pleased to wear his chains,
Nor wishes a release.
But Jesus, stronger far than he,
In his appointed hour
Appears, to set his people free
From the usurper's pow'r.
This heart I bought with blood, he says,
And now it shall be mine;
His voice the strong one armed dismays,
He knows he must resign.
In spite of unbelief and pride,
And self, and Satan's art;
The gates of brass fly open wide,
And Jesus wins the heart.
The rebel soul that once withstood
The Saviour's kindest call;
Rejoices now, by grace subdued,
To serve him with her all.
poem by John Newton
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Camels And Donkeys
Camels have played their parts in the desert banks,
For the human traffic had been moblised with the help of the camels;
And of many years gone by on the desert rods to transport itwms,
With casting shadows on thier various tracks as they move along.
Now or never,
Mankind had made used of the camels for long!
And like a camel ride at the tourist centres in Egypt,
So be my guest on the desert zones of Africa! !
I have never seen anything like this before,
But with their fellow mates as the donkeys to help them along at times;
For the monkeys at your homes are always ready to play!
Camels and donkeys,
Used from old and to the present time;
And like a picturesque speech to evaluate yourself,
But long in a queue from sunrise to sunset as they move along with heavy loads! !
Camels and donkeys,
Feed them enough and they will do their works;
For the load carriers have nothing to say,
And they are the best animals around to help transport heavy loads along the desert routes.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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A donkey decked in gold is better than an over-laden horse.