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Love and Friendship
Love is like the wild rose-briar,
Friendship like the holly-tree --
The holly is dark when the rose-briar blooms
But which will bloom most contantly?
The wild-rose briar is sweet in the spring,
Its summer blossoms scent the air;
Yet wait till winter comes again
And who wil call the wild-briar fair?
Then scorn the silly rose-wreath now
And deck thee with the holly's sheen,
That when December blights thy brow
He may still leave thy garland green.
poem by Emily Jane Brontë
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love and Friendship
Love is like the wild rose-briar;
Friendship like the holly-tree.
The holly is dark when the rose-briar blooms,
But which will bloom most constantly?
The wild rose-briar is sweet in spring,
Its summer blossoms scent the air;
Yet wait till winter comes again,
And who will call the wild-briar fair?
Then, scorn the silly rose-wreath now,
And deck thee with the holly's sheen,
That, when December blights thy brow,
He still may leave thy garland green.
poem by Emily Brontë from Selections from the literary remains of Emily and Anne Brontë (1850)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Black Berry—wears a Thorn in his side
The Black Berry—wears a Thorn in his side—
But no Man heard Him cry—
He offers His Berry, just the same
To Partridge—and to Boy—
He sometimes holds upon the Fence—
Or struggles to a Tree—
Or clasps a Rock, with both His Hands—
But not for Sympathy—
We—tell a Hurt—to cool it—
This Mourner—to the Sky
A little further reaches—instead—
Brave Black Berry—
poem by Emily Dickinson
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Breath Of The Briar
I
O briar-scents, on yon wet wing
Of warm South-west wind brushing by,
You mind me of the sweetest thing
That ever mingled frank and shy:
When she and I, by love enticed,
Beneath the orchard-apples met,
In equal halves a ripe one sliced,
And smelt the juices ere we ate.
II
That apple of the briar-scent,
Among our lost in Britain now,
Was green of rind, and redolent
Of sweetness as a milking cow.
The briar gives it back, well nigh
The damsel with her teeth on it;
Her twinkle between frank and shy,
My thirst to bite where she had bit.
poem by George Meredith
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Love is like the wild rose-briar; Friendship like the holly-tree. The holly is dark when the rose-briar blooms, but which will bloom most constantly?
quote by Emily Bronte
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Kidnap
Halle Berry, Robert Walker Branchaud, Dana Gourrier, Lew Temple, Christopher Berry, Justin Lebrun, Malea Rose, Ritchie Montgomery
by Knate Lee from Kidnap (2016)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Best Pipe
In vain you fervently extol,
In vain you puff, your cutty clay.
A twelvemonth smoked and black as coal,
'Tis redolent of rank decay
And bones of monks long passed away—
A fragrance I do not admire;
And so I hold my nose and say,
Give me a finely seasoned briar.
Macleod, whose judgment on the whole
Is faultless, has been led astray
To nurse a high-born meerschaum bowl,
For which he sweetly had to pay.
Ah, let him nurse it as he may,
Before the colour mounts much higher,
The grate shall be its fate one day.
Give me a finely seasoned briar.
The heathen Turk of Istamboul,
In oriental turban gay,
Delights his unbelieving soul
With hookahs, bubbling in a way
To fill a Christian with dismay
And wake the old Crusading fire.
May no such pipe be mine, I pray;
Give me a finely seasoned briar.
Clay, meerschaum, hookah, what are they
That I should view them with desire?
Both now, and when my hair is grey,
Give me a finely seasoned briar.
poem by Robert Fuller Murray
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The Lily Has A Smooth Stalk
The lily has a smooth stalk,
Will never hurt your hand;
But the rose upon her briar
Is lady of the land.
There's sweetness in an apple tree,
And profit in the corn;
But lady of all beauty
Is a rose upon a thorn.
When with moss and honey
She tips her bending briar,
And half unfolds her glowing heart,
She sets the world on fire.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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Take My Breath Away
Lively as a grass,
I am lonely as a pet;
Oh green berry love,
Come and take my breath away.
It is a delight to have you around me,
Take my breath away to the stars!
Come and take my breath away.
Your love has inspired the masters in this field,
Honoured among the best are your sweet berry;
Come and take my breath away.
You are the Princess of the apple tower,
You have the sweet lines of pinnacles;
It all comes from the brightness of your love.
Green as a grass,
The shopping love of your taste;
So, i will alwaays come to you.
My grteen berry,
Come and take my breath away;
I will fly to you where posssible,
I will come to you when necessary,
Come and take me to the Island of love.
Take my breath away oh Princess of the tower,
It is a delight to have you around me;
So, come and take my breath away.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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What Real Friendship Is
Friendship sails 'cross all kinds of seas-
The calm, the stirred, the galed...
Serene, difficult and outright stormy...
But true friendship-it never fails;
You come together open-hearted-
With profound respect and devotion-
Tied together with a common thread-
That can sustain any waves of the ocean;
The mark of true friendship stands...
Even when ones skies turn grey-
It is not just partial to sunny fair weather...!
Or absolute attendence come what may! ;
For oft' times we get side tracked...
From our own personal tragedies or worse...
Leaving us sometimes absent but never forgetting...
Our true friends in lifes most gifted verse;
For true friendship is not picky-!
It doesn't correct, fault find or critisize...!
It is a blessing as sure as Gods love-
A most cherished gift in our lives;
May 24,2010
Love And Friendship
By Emily Bronte
Love is like the wild rose briar
Friendship like the holly tree
The holly is dark when the rose briar blooms
But which will bloom most constantly?
The wild rose-briar is sweet in the Spring
Its Summer blossoms scent the air
Yet wait till Winter comes again
And who will call the wild briar fair?
Then scorn the silly rose-wreath now
And deck thee with the hollys sheen
That when December blights thy brow
He may still leave thy garland green.
poem by Theodora Onken
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Neon
( japanese bonus track )
This shower will beam us to
A blue changing too yellow scenery
Bus noises all day long
They make you whisper fragile words
Losing energy
And do we belong here
Youve got this dave berry effect on me
Dont worry
This formula one race
Wont change our space station
Apollo in germany
You frightened me to death when you fell out of your bed
A bladder can hurt so much
Especially with a berlin neon hospital touch
And do we belong here
Youve got this dave berry effect on me
Dont worry
This formula one race
Wont change our space station
And do we belong here
Youve got this dave berry effect on me
Dont worry
This formula one race
Wont change our space station
And do we belong here
Youve got this dave berry effect on me
Dont worry
This formula one race
Wont change our space station
song performed by by Hooverphonic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In The Old Man's House
The mad churl at the headstone,
The vane’s point, south,
The bright burn, the sad sin
At the carlin’s mouth.
The young field on the old day
By the age-old tarn,
The bloodstone by the highway
Where the wind breasts down;
Athame, set on a black cloth
By the five point star,
The cup brims, the dye sets
By the sharp hoar briar.
The thatch-rot at the damp wall
Of the dark stone hut,
The lampwick at the breastbone
Where the old man sat,
The sharp prick of the hoar briar
The thumb’s blood-spray,
The last flickering lamplight
Where the old shades play;
The long slash and the slow hush
At the breath’s death joust,
The wind shrieks at red rags
In the old man’s house.
20 October 1977
poem by David Lewis Paget
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I am from
I am from homey 12, Briar Lane and a party twenty four hours a day at 16, Briar Lane.
I am from fruity Jolly Ranchers and super sonic speed bikes.
I am from the most horrible kids and amazing friends.
I am from luxury cars and extremely loud "pffts! ".
I am from little, silent "bam" and garbage disposal smells.
I am from dancing waves on lakes and ponds.
I am from trees hugging my houses and swishing pools.
I am from extremely competitive soccer and Grammie.
I am from Grampa and dad.
I am from Aunt Laura and Mickey.
I am from my amazingly brilliant room and amazingly good Shepard's pie.
I am from brilliantly texturized and not burnt homemade macaroni and chocolate sweet hershey bar.
poem by Ethan Sperdakos
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Love and Fragrance
The fragrance of a flower
Like the fragrance of a woman
Is a declaration of fertility
The poetry of seduction
When you hold a flower
When you touch your lover
Traces of the fragrance stay with you
They're ingrained in your skin
Much like the single red rose
Standing alone, erect
Aflame with desire
My passion is only for you
And like a delicate flower
Our love is fueled by a fragrance
A fragrance that is uniquely yours
A scent that demands my attention
But in the end
Without love
Without passion
There would be no fragrance
~Rick Berry
poem by Rick Berry
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Though honey is sweet, do not lick it off a briar.
Dolor of Autumn
The acrid scents of autumn,
Reminiscent of slinking beasts, make me fear
Everything, tear-trembling stars of autumn
And the snore of the night in my ear.
For suddenly, flush-fallen,
All my life, in a rush
Of shedding away, has left me
Naked, exposed on the bush.
I, on the bush of the globe,
Like a newly-naked berry, shrink
Disclosed: but I also am prowling
As well in the scents that slink
Abroad: I in this naked berry
Of flesh that stands dismayed on the bush;
And I in the stealthy, brindled odours
Prowling about the lush
And acrid night of autumn;
My soul, along with the rout,
Rank and treacherous, prowling,
Disseminated out.
For the night, with a great breath intaken,
Has taken my spirit outside
Me, till I reel with disseminated consciousness,
Like a man who has died.
At the same time I stand exposed
Here on the bush of the globe,
A newly-naked berry of flesh
For the stars to probe.
poem by David Herbert Lawrence
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The Waterfall and The Eglantine
'Begone, thou fond presumptuous Elf,'
Exclaimed an angry Voice,
'Nor dare to thrust thy foolish self
Between me and my choice!'
A small Cascade fresh swoln with snows
Thus threatened a poor Briar-rose,
That, all bespattered with his foam,
And dancing high and dancing low,
Was living, as a child might know,
In an unhappy home.
II
'Dost thou presume my course to block?
Off, off! or, puny Thing!
I'll hurl thee headlong with the rock
To which thy fibres cling.'
The Flood was tyrannous and strong;
The patient Briar suffered long,
Nor did he utter groan or sigh,
Hoping the danger would be past;
But, seeing no relief, at last,
He ventured to reply.
III
'Ah!' said the Briar, 'blame me not;
Why should we dwell in strife?
We who in this sequestered spot
Once lived a happy life!
You stirred me on my rocky bed--
What pleasure through my veins you spread
The summer long, from day to day,
My leaves you freshened and bedewed;
Nor was it common gratitude
That did your cares repay.
IV
'When spring came on with bud and bell,
Among these rocks did I
Before you hang my wreaths to tell
That gentle days were nigh!
And in the sultry summer hours,
I sheltered you with leaves and flowers;
And in my leaves--now shed and gone,
The linnet lodged, and for us two
Chanted his pretty songs, when you
Had little voice or none.
V
'But now proud thoughts are in your breast--
What grief is mine you see,
Ah! would you think, even yet how blest
Together we might be!
Though of both leaf and flower bereft,
Some ornaments to me are left--
Rich store of scarlet hips is mine,
With which I, in my humble way,
Would deck you many a winter day,
A happy Eglantine!'
VI
What more he said I cannot tell,
The Torrent down the rocky dell
Came thundering loud and fast;
I listened, nor aught else could hear;
The Briar quaked--and much I fear
Those accents were his last.
poem by William Wordsworth
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