The weather worsens on Saint Bartholomew's Day.
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Bartholomew
Bartholomew is very sweet,
From sandy hair to rosy feet.
Bartholomew is six months old,
And dearer far than pearls or gold.
Bartholomew has deep blue eyes,
Round pieces dropped from out the skies.
Bartholomew is hugged and kissed:
He loves a flower in either fist.
Bartholomew's my saucy son:
No mother has a sweeter one!
poem by Norman Rowland Gale
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Saint Swithin's day
On the day that marks St. Swithun,
Watch the sky once the sun's risen,
Should the weather prove to be fine,
There'll be many days of sunshine,
Weather the saint's said to foretell,
Is it to be a rainy spell?
Pray that rainclouds will go away,
They can come back another day,
Apples are christened if there's rain,
But clouds will be set to remain,
A bleak forty day downpour,
Or a fine summer is in store,
We have want for more days of sun,
Let our summer not yet be done,
Whoever has sway over skies,
Is truly a saint in thine eyes.
poem by Christian Lacdael
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Good Weather
This good weather ruined me,
I resigned in such a weather
From my government job.
I got used to tobacco in such a weather,
I fell in love in such a weather;
I forgot to take home bread and salt
In such a weather;
My disease of writing poems
Recurred in such a weather;
This good weather ruined me.
poem by Orhan Veli Kanik
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from: Shoemaker's Holiday, Or The Gentle Craft
Cold's the wind, and wet's the rain,
Saint Hugh be our good speed ;
Ill is the weather that bringeth no gain,
Nor helps good hearts in need.
Troll the bowl, the jolly nut-brown bowl,
And here, kind mate, to thee ;
Let's sing a dirge for Saint Hugh's soul,
And down it merrily.
Down-a-down, hey, down-a-down,
Hey derry derry down-a-down,
Close with the tenor, boy ;
Ho ! well done, to me let come,
Ring compass, gentle joy.
Troll the bowl, the nut-brown bowl,
And here, kind, &c. (As often as there be men to drink.)
(At last, when all have drunk, this verse.)
Cold's the wind, and wet's the rain,
Saint Hugh be our good speed ;
Ill is the weather that bringeth no gain,
Nor helps good hearts in need.
poem by Thomas Dekker
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Necrological
The friar had said his paternosters duly
And scourged his limbs, and afterwards would have slept;
But with much riddling his head became unruly,
He arose, from the quiet monastery he crept.
Dawn lightened the place where the battle had been won.
The people were dead -- it is easy he thought to die --
These dead remained, but the living were all gone,
Gone with the wailing trumps of victory.
The dead men wore no raiment against the air,
Bartholomew's men had spoiled them where they fell;
In defeat the heroes' bodies were whitely bare,
The field was white like meads of asphodel.
Not all were white; some gory and fabulous
Whom the sword had pierced and then the grey wolf eaten;
But the brother reasoned that heroes' flesh was thus.
Flesh fails, and the postured bones lie weather-beaten.
The lords of chivalry lay prone and shattered.
The gentle and the bodyguard of yeomen;
Bartholomew's stroke went home -- but little it mattered,
Bartholomew went to be stricken of other foemen.
Beneath the blue ogive of the firmament
Was a dead warrior, clutching whose mighty knees
Was a leman, who with her flame had warmed his tent,
For him enduring all men's pleasantries.
Close by the sable stream that purged the plain
Lay the white stallion and his rider thrown,
The great beast had spilled there his little brain,
And the little groin of the knight was spilled by a stone.
The youth possessed him then of a crooked blade
Deep in the belly of a lugubrious wight;
He fingered it well, and it was cunningly made;
But strange apparatus was if for a Carmelite.
Then he sat upon a hill and bowed his head
As under a riddle, and in deep surmise
So still that he likened himself unto those dead
Whom the kites of Heaven solicited with sweet cries.
poem by John Crowe Ransom
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Little Saint Nick
Oooooooo
Merry christmas saint nick
Christmas comes this time each year
Oooooooo oooooooo
Well, way up north where the air gets cold
Theres a tale about christmas that youve all been told
And a real famous cat all dressed up in red
And he spends the whole year workin out on his sled
Its the little saint nick
Ooooo, little saint nick
Its the little saint nick
Ooooo, little saint nick
Just a little bobsled we call it old saint nick
But shell walk a toboggan with a four speed stick
Shes candy-apple red with a ski for a wheel
And when santa hits the gas, man, just watch her peel
Its the little saint nick
Ooooo, little saint nick
Its the little saint nick
Ooooo, little saint nick
Run run reindeer
Run run reindeer
Whoaa
Run run reindeer
Run run reindeer
He dont miss no one
And haulin through the snow at a frightenin speed
With a half a dozen deer with rudy to lead
Hes gotta wear his goggles cause the snow really flies
And hes cruisin every pad with a little surprise
Its the little saint nick
Ooooo, little saint nick
Its the little saint nick
Ooooo, little saint nick
Ahhhhhh
Oooooooo
Merry christmas saint nick
Christmas comes this time each year
Ahhhhhh
Oooooooo
Merry christmas saint nick
Christmas comes this time each year
Ahhhhhh
Oooooooo
Merry christmas saint nick
Christmas comes this time each year
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A saint is a person who gives of themself without asking for anything in return. That's how simple it is to be a saint. Try it! Try being a saint.
quote by Edward James Olmos
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A saint is a person who gives himself without asking for anything in return. That's how simple it is to be a saint. Try it! Try being a saint.
quote by Edward James Olmos
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Fever
Look at these eyes admit that you're killing me but you can never see
the damage that you do! Look at this fool in tears on his stupied knees
you treat me like disease how can I please you? I'd change the weather
I'd change the weather for you now I'd change the weather I'd get down
on my knees and pray for you I'd change the weather I'd change the
weather for you now I'd change the weather I'd get down on my knees
forever! And if I could I'd kiss you and run away now shut your mouth
and pray it's something that I'll do but I'm a fool a magnet to your
vicious words to you I look absurd but I'm in love with you
song performed by by Underworld
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love is Not A Seasonal Crop
Love is not a seasonal crop
The weather we can’t control
Tend it well and well it’ll grow
The weather will and unknown how or why itself impose
Weather it with all your will, those it always wins
For of itself in time weather must be spent
Sometimes its only slight damage done
That we must amend
If it’s a total ravish, bend down and plant again
For earth and hearts are glad to give
An equal yield of what’s putted in
poem by David E. Patton
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Confused Atmosphere
Mother Nature may be confused, just like those, who have used,
This demeaning title to describe, the very God they have denied,
The Lord God, Who orders all, weather patterns, great and small,
He may never enter their minds, while stirring weather of all kinds.
Confused He isn't or will not be, for He is The Lord of all Eternity,
He is God of Order, up above; controlling weather men speak of,
And they truly don't understand, He controls the weather at hand,
Confusing only meteorologists, who dream Mother Nature exists.
They forecast the weather to come, not aware of where it is from,
Knowing not who is really behind, the weather they bring to mind,
Being shaken and very surprised, when it's not as they surmised,
But taking credit from their peers, for saying good weather nears.
Often times, you may even note, as weather is good some gloat,
About the returning of the sun, as if, it's something they've done,
Even though they may shy away, as bad weather comes our way,
Almost with a real reverence to, The Lord, to whom it is truly due.
For He is The Creator of this earth, Ruler over the whole universe,
He has, and always will control, all weather patterns, big or small,
With change meteorologists see, that fools the latest technology,
And it's those who have refused, God's Truth, who are confused.
Let me talk!
Wheather i type about my life or my dreams.
i am getting somewhere
Weather you look me up or not.
I am who i am, please don't change me
Weather i type about my hardships, don't forget me.
or or weather i close my eyes and open them
and i am still here.
My body's not, i went to heaven.
Weather this don't make sense it made sense to me
Because i am the one who's living to write.
poem by Sheniqua Lowery
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Something About The Weather
Dear sister, you have no idea
About the weather here
The earth is dry
We haven't seen any rain
For the past few years
And hunger is striking.
Looking out through the window
Father is trying to forecast the weather
And he has been saying something
But no one heard what the exact words are
For he's talking to no one, but himself.
Oh! how terrible things are here
The weather is bad, so bad that
I am beginning to believe what father has said.
'This is not weather, but a curse laid upon us.'
23/03/2004
poem by Arsiema Berhane
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Sinner Or Saint
Stand bold, for the ride,
Right now, you know that is the place to be
To watch humankind, stumble into another century
Take no prisoners,
Their sure at giving you the run-around
Violance, on your mind,
Cus your attention is the battleground
What are you?
A sinner or saint
You gotta be
A sinner or saint
Ice cool walawyers,
Straight up and guerentee your gonna get
All that you deserve,
Sit down, blockin your way, seen nothin yet
(chorus)
What are you?
That is your fate
You gotta be
A sinner or saint
Some poeple love too fast
Some people live too long
And so Ive got to ask
Do you know right from wrong?
Disa-ssembler, will you ever, really be a saint...
Still on for the ride,
Who cares if you loose or win
They can bleed you dry,
When youre, a pumping the adrenelin
(chorus)
What are you?
Its never too late
You gotta be
A sinner or saint..
song performed by by Duran Duran
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You cannot make a sinner into a saint by killing him. He who does not live as a saint here will never live as a saint hereafter.
quote by Charles Spurgeon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When Winchester races
When Winchester races first took their beginning
It is said the good people forgot their old Saint
Not applying at all for the leave of Saint Swithin
And that William of Wykeham's approval was faint.
The races however were fixed and determined
The company came and the Weather was charming
The Lords and the Ladies were satine'd and ermined
And nobody saw any future alarming.--
But when the old Saint was informed of these doings
He made but one Spring from his Shrine to the Roof
Of the Palace which now lies so sadly in ruins
And then he addressed them all standing aloof.
'Oh! subjects rebellious! Oh Venta depraved
When once we are buried you think we are gone
But behold me immortal! By vice you're enslaved
You have sinned and must suffer, ten farther he said
These races and revels and dissolute measures
With which you're debasing a neighboring Plain
Let them stand--You shall meet with your curse in your pleasures
Set off for your course, I'll pursue with my rain.
Ye cannot but know my command o'er July
Henceforward I'll triumph in shewing my powers
Shift your race as you will it shall never be dry
The curse upon Venta is July in showers--'.
poem by Jane Austen
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I Know Sonata
I know that the weather
Can't please me at all
Or maybe I expect too much
From the weather
And what I want from the weather I can't get
At all
Because I am feeling that this isan't fair at all
For me
poem by Aldo Kraas
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A Silly Love Poem
Come hither,
Come hither my love
When the infant sun shines
And promises a sunny weather.
Come hither. Come hither...
Come hither,
Come hither my love
When the moon beams
In the company of multitude
And she promises a beam-soaked weather.
Come hither. Come hither...
Come hither,
Come hither my love
When the spring sets in
With a fragrant fanfare
And sensuous is the weather,
Come hither. Come hither...
Come hither,
Come hither my love
When the clouds run errands
For their master and
When lightening is the harbinger
And lively is the weather,
Come hither. Come hither...
Come hither,
Come hither my love
When autumn makes me lonely
In the soul of my creative pang
Be my soul-mate all-weather,
And come hither. Come hither...
wondering
I wonder I wonder
I wonder all day long
I wonder what you are doing today
I wonder what your wondering
I wonder, I wonder
What do you wonder?
Do you wonder what I'm doing today?
Do you wonder what I'm wondering?
you wonder, you wonder
What does she wonder?
Does she wonder weather her shoes are right?
Does she wonder weather her hair is right?
Does she wonder weather her brother and sister's are right
She wonders, she wonders
What does he wonder?
Does he wonder weather his shoes are right?
Does he wonder weather his haircut is right?
Does he wonder weather his brother and sisters are right?
Does he...wonder.
I wonder, you wonder, she wonders, he wonders, we all wonder.
poem by Ke'Love Moss
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Blame The Weather
When your loves flown out the window,
And the pain comes through the door.
Once again youve missed the boat,
And youre stranded on the shore.
And you find out that what you had,
Was never yours at all,
Friends and lovers that you knew so well,
Will never take your calls.
So,
You blame the weather,
Oh-oh,
Blame the weather,
Oh-oh,
Blame the weather,
Oh-oh
Cant you see youre in your prime?
Youre turning creases into lines.
If you play the game
Youve got to be prepared to take a knock,
You get put down so many times,
But you keep on getting up.
So put your tears away,
And dont forget to worry is a crime,
Nothing bears thinking about too much,
Youll be old before your time.
So,
You blame the weather,
Oh-oh,
Blame the weather,
Oh-oh,
Blame the weather,
Oh-oh
Cant you see youre in your prime?
Youre turning creases into lines.
The pool of tears you left to drown in,
The helping hands that never came,
The years you lost out to another,
All up in flames
So,
You blame the weather,
Oh-oh,
Blame the weather,
Oh-oh,
Blame the weather,
Oh-oh
Cant you see youre in your prime?
Youre turning creases into lines.
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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