There is no table without wine nor sermon without Augustine.
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Augustine My Great Friend
Augustine who is from another planet far away,
came to live in Minnesota one day.
City of Bemidji he did stay when young,
I never met him there for he was already gone.
He moved to New Jersey where I am from.
I didn't meet him there either,
but soon I would meet him in the sunshine state.
He has a friendly smile and good taste.
Augustine knows Spanish and he can play the guitar,
he lived in South America which is quite far.
He taught English to the military there,
he was a great teacher, even though students
fell asleep sitting in their chairs.
Augustine bought me a great Twianese brunch,
which tasted great for a lunch.
Augustine is a great friend,
he bought me some groceries when my job did end.
Augustine is a great chef,
he is Italian so he knows Italian dinners the best.
Can't wait to taste his Italian cuisine,
more fun times with Augustine.
Written By Suzae Chevalier on February 10,2012
poem by Suzae Chevalier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The best sermon is preached by the minister who has a sermon to preach and not by the man who has to preach a sermon.
quote by William Feather
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Table For Two!
Flash of dream overcome me
as I took slumber one night
I saw a romantic setting
lies a set of table for two
A bouquet of red roses
decorate at the center
where a bottle of red wine
completes the table for two
I saw you entered the haven
dressed in rainbow colored suit
your face so pretty with a smile
as we kissed at the table for two
Mesmerized by your countenance
I was filled with romantic stance
as we danced to the tune of love
such so divine at the table for two
Awaken at height of joy
I am filled with inspiration
as today it becomes a reality
a table for two on Valentines day
poem by Marvin Brato Sr
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Wine (Love Poem)
Wine is for laughing
Wine is for talking all night
Wine is for living life out loud
Wine is for making us beautiful
Wine is for all-night conversations
Wine is for getting together again
Wine is for ‘never again’ tomorrow
Wine is for sleeping like a baby
Wine is for telling the truth
Wine is food for love
Wine is friendship
Wine is fresh
Wine
Can
Be
The
One
Perfe ct
Companion
At the end of a long day
poem by Ian Beckett
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A Good Sermon
A good sermon should be like
A miniskirt:
Short enough to arouse interest
But long enough to cover the essentials.
Okay, seal my lips
Since silence is the only statement
That has zero misquote
Please this is not blasphemy
Forgive I if it is
Am I lost?
This's a message to
Him or her who hold
A position to address
Hear me say
A GIANT SERMON
Doesn't raise more converts
Neither does it make you a saint
Stick to this:
A GOOD SERMON!
poem by Buyunde Acura Sylivester
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If I had only one sermon to preach it would be a sermon against pride.
quote by Gilbert K. Chesterton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Heavenly Banquet
I went to the heavenly banquet
The table that Jesus had set.
and broke the bread and drank the wine
nourishing this poor soul of mine.
Then my spirit soared heavenward
as before His table I stood
knowing that He loved me so much
experiencing His tender touch.
I felt complete and satisfied
there with Jesus the crucified.
The wine was rich, the bread so sweet
as I worshipped there at His feet.
My soul fed very well that day
as I journeyed upon my way.
and back into my home I went
my spirit feeling so content.
Neighbours
My neighbour has a field of wheat
And I a rood of vine;
And he will give me bread to eat,
And I will give him wine.
And so we are a jolly pair,
Contentedly unwed,
Singing with supper as we share
Red wine and crusty bread.
Now venison is mighty meat
And so is trout and hare;
A mallard duck is sweat to eat
And quail is dainty fare.
But such are foods for festal day,
And we will not repine
While on the table we can lay
Crisp bread and rosy wine.
A will to till one's own of soil
Is worth a kingly crown,
With bread to feed the belly need,
And wine to wash it down.
So with my neighbour I rejoice
That we are fit and free,
Content to praise with lusty voice
Bread, Wine and Liberty.
poem by Robert William Service
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Table
Who is sitting at our table
In our favourite restaurant.
Looking into each others eyes
While chatter smothers
Loving sighs.
As she holds his hand to squeeze
Under the table.
Will our ghosts drift on the breeze
Out of the window
Through the trees.
To be lost forever
Like a heartbeat
In dark streets
To pass away
Like loving nights on satin sheets.
Who sits at your table
Where candlelight
Lit your smile.
And we drank red wine in style.
To taste the sweetness
On your lips
The fruit of love
Minus the pips.
All out plans
We'd always discuss.
You would always make a fuss
About what you would wear
On our wedding day.
At that table
Our guest of fate did sit.
But didn't rest,
Couldn't stay.
Leaving me alone in twilight meadow
Like one last flower
To sway.
poem by Kevin East
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Fall In Love With Me
Pop/bowie/sales/sales
You look so good to me
Here in this old saloon
Way back in west berlin
A bottle of white wine
White wine and you
A table made of wood
And how I wish you would
Fall in love with me
You look so good to me
Standing out in the street
With your cheap fur on
Or maybe your plastic raincoat
And your plastic shoes
They look good too
Standing in the snow
Youre younger than you look
Fall in love with me
Fall in love with me
How I wish you would
A table made of wood
And a bottle of white wine
And you-and a bottle of
White wine and you
And when youre standing
In the street and its cold
And it snows on you
And you look younger
Than you really are
I wish you would
Fall in love with me
I wish you would
Fall in love with me
I wish you would
Fall in love with me
I wish you would
Fall in love with me
Yeah
The way your eyes are black
The way your hair is black
The way your heart is young
Theres just a few like you
Just the kind I need
To fall in love with me
Oh and you look so good
Yes you look so good
A bottle of white wine
A cigarette and you
Here in this saloon
White wine and you
I wish youd fall in love with me
I wish youd fall in love with me
cause theres
Just a few like you
So young and real
Theres just a few like you
So young and real
Fall in love with me
Fall in love with me
Fall in love with me
Fall in love with me
I wish you would
You look so good
When youre young at heart
Theres just a few like you
Youre young at heart
Wont you
Come to this old saloon
Come to my waiting arms
A table made of wood
And I will look at you
cause youre so young and pure
And youre young at heart
Youre young at heart
A bottle of white wine
And when youre tumbling down
You just look better
When youre tumbling down
You just look finer
song performed by by Iggy Pop
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Day And Date
Nests to birds and holes to foxes,
Of the olive oil and honey on my table;
But in the obscurity of darkness,
The harvest time is very great.
Unmarked graves,
The choicest wine at the beginning of love;
There is a day and a date for everyone.
Of the rich man's table and the poor man's table,
Like homes without numbers to compare with these graves;
But you need ten silver coins to reach my home.
A fig tree with leaves and the horse-walk of things,
You need a 'pencilcure' act to note my mind;
And from 'dreamontology' to 'dondoorlogy'to what is prepared.
The king and the Queen do seek for me,
But i am always missing out of their sites;
Since i do have a day and a date on my lovers heart.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Winter Evening
When snow falls against the window,
Long sounds the evening bell...
For so many has the table
Been prepared, the house set in order.
From their wandering, many
Come on dark paths to this gateway.
The tree of grace is flowering in gold
Out of the cool sap of the earth.
In stillness, wanderer, step in:
Grief has worn the threshold into stone.
But see: in pure light, glowing
There on the table: bread and wine.
poem by Georg Trakl
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A Single Rose
She wants a poem
Read to her by candlelight
While she sits at a small table
This would be sheer delight
She would like live music too
In the background I suppose
A stark white tablecloth with
A single rose
Don't forget the wine
A white wine '03 or '02
Slightly chilled
Will do
This should be a special poem
One she could say is mine
If she only knew a poet
Regardless of the rhyme
Who will read it to her
Does he need special clothes
Or just a sincere voice and a wine glass
To go with the single rose
poem by Tom J. Mariani
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A Round Table
we have this round table
and we put all our hands
on it when we eat and
drink and just talk for
hours and hours and
listen. And we ask what
is happening: Karding
broke a leg and Delia
is looking for the money.
Always it is the money.
Always she is short of
the money. And there
were jewelries hanging
on her neck and arms
and fingers, and we all
ask at this round table:
what is happening?
Nothing, don't mind at
all, this is just a part of
the round table, some
wine glass that broke
and must be swept at
once. We keep away the
sound of a crying pig.
We eat pigs here at this
round table. Then we shifted
the talk about our dead
parents. We pray. We
remember we keep on
saying this. We finish eating
the pig. We drink a very
cold water. Our throats
are irritated and we step
out of the room wanting
to pull away our tongues.
when we come back the
round table is empty.
and we laugh about a
joke that we remember.
our childhood games
the river, and the boat
that father made for us.
we turn off the tv and we
begin to talk about the
beautiful flowers in mother's
old garden, the secret one.
we agree. we miss it.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Winebibber's old stories of Wartime
Old Wine Cellar's insane daughter loves the Alcoholic
But her father strongly dislikes the affair.
The tippler who comes often to the Wine store
And voluntarily sweeps the floor.
Once in a blue Moon among the hysterics
He too drowns in the old Oak Vat with the intending Son-in-law
And listens to his old Wartime stories
While she serves appetizers on the triangular table.
* To my contemporary friend Bastian.Gajaweera
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Evening Hunger
When hunger came
I went to kitchen
Cooked rice
Made a soup of chicken
Hunger lessened
Had a glass of wine
Felt not comfortable
To have the food alone
Took the mobile phone
Called to him
Who lives same as I
Welcoming sudden invitation
He is to come
Prepared the table for two
Second glass of wine
Toasted with the friend
We had a happy time
Talking about problems
Transcendent solution
To the boarding evening
Tomorrow
How it will be
Hunger is not the curry for meal all the time
Wine is not the friend for loneliness all the time
poem by Udaya R. Tennakoon
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Messenger at Midnight (circle and rectangle of waiting)
1
12 o clock
in a needle leap
the imperfect half of
the most perfect absurdity
is sabotaged.
/
12 o clock
A blood stained hand of
a clock may make
the next half an hour,
bloody
2
A boy
with an angel face
may come through this
dark rectangle,
dropping rain from his coat,
he may say
no....
insp ired by Samuel Becket, especially his television play 'Ghost Trio'
augustine Sebastian
poem by Augustine Sebastian
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Flies In Face Challenges
a fresh start a fat check is window to new worlds
man motives material moves flies in face challenges spies
opportunities buildings iconic represent world desires
global aspirations are a meal table set with room temperature wine
most citizens drink tea coffee eat at tables below the salt
at the king’s high table swords are still crossed with empire intent
poem by Terence George Craddock
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A friend to my table and wine, is no good neighbour.