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The Barefooted Boys
I.
By the sword of St. Michael
The old dragon through;
By David his sling
And the giant he slew;
Let us write us a rhyme,
As a record to tell
How the South on a time
Stormed the ramparts of Hell
With her barefooted boys!
II.
Had the South in her border
A hero to spare,
Or a heart at her altar,
Lo! its life's blood was there!
And the black battle-grime
Might never disguise
The smile of the South
On the lips and the eyes
Of her barefooted boys!
III.
There's a grandeur in fight,
And a terror the while,
But none like the light
Of that terrible smile -
The smile of the South,
When the storm-cloud unrolls
The lightening that loosens
The wrath in the souls
Of her barefooted boys!
IV.
It withered the foe
Like the red light that runs
Through the dead forest leaves,
And he fled from his guns!
Grew the smile to a laugh,
Rose the laugh to a yell.
As the iron-clad hoofs
Clattered back into Hell
From our barefooted boys!
poem by Anonymous Americas
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The Barefooted Friar
I'll give thee, good fellow, a twelvemonth or twain,
To search Europe through, from Byzantium to Spain;
But ne'er shall you find, should you search till you tire,
So happy a man as the Barefooted Friar.
Your knight for his lady pricks forth in career,
And is brought home at even-song bunny'd through with a spear;
I confess him in haste - for his lady desires
No comfort on earth save the Barefooted Friar's.
Your monarch? - Pshaw! many a prince has been known
To barter his robes for our cowl and our gown,
But which of us e'er felt the idle desire
To exchange for a crown the grey hood of a Friar!
The Friar has walk'd out, and where'er he has gone,
The land and its fatness is mark'd for his own;
He can roam where he lists, he can stop when he tires,
For every man's house is the Barefooted Friar's.
He's expected at noon, and no wight till he comes
May profane the great chair, or the porridge of plums
For the best of the cheer, and the seat by the fire,
Is the undenied right of the Barefooted Friar.
He's expected at night, and the pasty's made hot,
They broach the brown ale, and they fill the black pot,
And the goodwife would wish the goodman in the mire,
Ere he lack'd a soft pillow, the Barefooted Friar.
Long flourish the sandal, the cord, and the cope,
The dread of the devil and trust of the Pope;
For to gather life's roses, unscathed by the briar,
Is granted alone to the Barefooted Friar.
poem by Sir Walter Scott
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Barefooted
I am walking barefooted and naked because,
I have my mind on you;
I am walking barefooted and naked because,
I have my love for you;
But Moab will wail fro Moab.
You are the one that i love and,
Naked and barefooted i do go about daily for you;
But gladness and joy will be taken away very soon from Moab.
Like a carved ivory, you are as fair as the moon;
Like the highlights of the mountains,
You are easily reached up in love than others;
So we need no war around us.
Life is as bright as the sun on the sweet bed of spices,
And true love is like the fragrance of Lebanon;
But like a carved ivory on your love,
This love is sweeter than wine!
A carved ivory,
Of our legs of love and the peace that it brings;
And like the harp of ten strings,
I am like the native green tree of love to your heart.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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A Little Boy in the Morning
He will not come, and still I wait.
He whistles at another gate
Where angels listen. Ah I know
He will not come, yet if I go
How shall I know he did not pass
barefooted in the flowery grass?
The moon leans on one silver horn
Above the silhouettes of morn,
And from their nest-sills finches whistle
Or stooping pluck the downy thistle.
How is the morn so gay and fair
Without his whistling in its air?
The world is calling, I must go.
How shall I know he did not pass
Barefooted in the shining grass?
poem by Francis Ledwidge
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Barefooted
walking barefooted
on broken glass....
playing a flute;
listening, listening,
for the sound of
the Lover's voice....
waiting, for the familiar
touch, for the smell
of the last rose opening
as the wings of autumn
approach.... listening,
for the sound of my own heart,
or the sound of planets evolving;
waiting for the gift of emptiness,
and the dance of flesh on flesh....
walking barefooted
on broken glass....
whispering to the stillness!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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A Carved Ivory
Walking naked and barefooted,
Moab will wail for Moab;
Naked and barefooted,
Gladness is taken away along with joy.
A Carved Ivory,
Fair as the moon with my mind on you;
To the heights of the mountains,
Bright as the sun with my mind on you;
To the bed of spices,
Love is like the fragrance of Lebanon!
To a Carved Ivory,
Our legs at war;
To a Carved Ivory,
Our toes for battle;
To a Carved Ivory,
Our bones so scattered;
Love is sweeter than wine.
prayers like incense,
Gladness is taken away along with joy;
Life is like a harp with ten strings where,
Wisdom is better than strength.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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It's as hard to see a woman crying as it is to see a barefooted duck.
The mare of the smith and the children of the shoemaker, allways goes barefooted.
Who Will Dance With Me
Who will dance with me
Under the light of the moon
Upon the wet grass
Barefooted- and if you like
Would you let me steal a kiss
poem by Edwin Tanguma
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Rose’s rose rose
Rose’s rose rose
In the light of the day
While the wind blows
Round its flowers of the lightest rosé.
Rose’s rose rose
In a way Rose may
When she grows
As her rose
Shows
How it grows
And by the end of the day
When her rose’s flowers’d close
And its head would sway
In the wind, Rose would say:
“My rose, as you rose
In the light of the day
Did you notice those,
The sounds of your stay?
Not only those of the day,
But, too, the ones of the dark, rose,
The ones of the dark and the moon in its pose.
Did you notice those, rose?
Did you notice those? ”
And the rose would know
What Rose would want to say
And it would sleep
With its flowers of the lightest rosé.
You Are Seen Everywhere
Your laughter have turned to mourning and your joy to grief,
Because inpleasure and in self-indulgence you left your lover;
And today you are seen everywhere barefooted.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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To be able to feel the lightest touch really is a gift.
quote by Christopher Reeve
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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From lightest words sometimes the direst quarrel springs.
quote by Cato the Elder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy! | In Romanian
I have this one little saying, when things get too heavy just call me helium, the lightest known gas to man.
quote by Jimi Hendrix
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In rivers and bad governments, the lightest things swim at the top.
quote by Benjamin Franklin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When things get too heavy, just call me helium, the lightest known gas to man.
quote by Jimi Hendrix
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The populace is like the sea motionless in itself, but stirred by every wind, even the lightest breeze.
quote by Titus Livius
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Little girls and boys, barefooted, walked up and down between the endless rows of spindles, reaching thin little hands into the machinery to repair snapped threads.
quote by Mary Harris Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In Our Place Sometime In 1972
as the shoes
were new
the young boy
did not wear it
when it rained
he decided to keep
inside his bag
and walked his way
home
barefooted
first new shoes
and mother bought them
from meager
earnings.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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