Come live with me, and be my love, And we will some new pleasures prove Of golden sands, and crystal brooks, With silken lines, and silver hooks.
quote by John Donne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Bait
COME live with me, and be my love,
And we will some new pleasures prove
Of golden sands, and crystal brooks,
With silken lines and silver hooks.
There will the river whisp'ring run
Warm'd by thy eyes, more than the sun;
And there th' enamour'd fish will stay,
Begging themselves they may betray.
When thou wilt swim in that live bath,
Each fish, which every channel hath,
Will amorously to thee swim,
Gladder to catch thee, than thou him.
If thou, to be so seen, be'st loth,
By sun or moon, thou dark'nest both,
And if myself have leave to see,
I need not their light, having thee.
Let others freeze with angling reeds,
And cut their legs with shells and weeds,
Or treacherously poor fish beset,
With strangling snare, or windowy net.
Let coarse bold hands from slimy nest
The bedded fish in banks out-wrest;
Or curious traitors, sleeve-silk flies,
Bewitch poor fishes' wand'ring eyes.
For thee, thou need'st no such deceit,
For thou thyself art thine own bait:
That fish, that is not catch'd thereby,
Alas! is wiser far than I.
poem by John Donne
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Thoughts of you and me at Langebaan
(after John Donne)
Let us live in love
for a time at the blue lagoon
and to each other pleasures prove,
under a white hot sun and golden moon
where the river to the sea twisting run
and let us there kiss and play
have an own summer season in the sun,
enjoy each other day after day.
When in the crystal waters you swim
like a mermaid you will be to me
lovely, kind and supple and slim
and beautiful fish we will see
and there one another we will adore
with feelings, intensity not being able to be more.
[Reference: “The bait” by John Donne.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Green Fields And Running Brooks
Ho! green fields and running brooks!
Knotted strings and fishing-hooks
Of the truant, stealing down
Weedy backways of the town.
Where the sunshine overlooks,
By green fields and running brooks,
All intruding guests of chance
With a golden tolerance,
Cooing doves, or pensive pair
Of picnickers, straying there--
By green fields and running brooks,
Sylvan shades and mossy nooks!
And--O Dreamer of the Days,
Murmurer of roundelays
All unsung of words or books,
Sing green fields and running brooks!
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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Golden Coins
(words & music by giant - baum - kaye)
Say youre mine, then ask me what you will
All your dreams, my darling Ill fulfill
Golden coins, I will bring to you
Silver trinkets and rubies too
In return dear Im begging you
For the pleasures of love
Ill bring gifts, like you never saw
Priceless garments that youll adore
Persian rugs to enhance your floor
For the pleasures of love
Darling, choose anything you please
Rich brocade, or woven tapestries
In exchange, I plead on my knees
For the pleasure of love
Golden coins, Ill place at your feet
Precious jewels to make life complete
All my treasures are yours my sweet
For the pleasures of love
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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By the shores of Malachite
Upon the shores of Malachite
Next to the cobalt seas
Under molten silver moonbeams
That shatter on the crystal icing
Covering the diamonded waterfall
By the golden sands...
gather the unicorns of
Neptune, Uranius, and Pluto and beyond.
playfully covort between
Steel seas and emerald mountains
On the frozen sands of time unchanged
For a thousand Earth's comings
But it's just a dream
a lunacy, a nothingness in the night
All my unicorns have taken to flight
never there
All the frozen seas...
are now warm Florida keys
under a full August moon
And the mountains...
are impossible fears
that have faded into prairies
swelling like seas
And there are no proofprints
in the sands of time of a
far away race frozen in time
poem by Midnights Voice
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How Sweet I Roam'd
How sweet I roam'd from field to field,
And tasted all the summer's pride
'Til the prince of love beheld
Who in the sunny beams did glide!
He shew'd me lilies for my hair
And blushing roses for my brow;
He led me through his garden fair,
Where all his golden pleasures grow.
With sweet May dews my wings were wet,
And Phoebus fir'd my vocal rage
He caught me in his silken net,
And shut me in his golden cage.
He loves to sit and hear me sing,
Then, laughing, sports and plays with me;
Then stretches out my golden wing,
And mocks my loss of liberty.
poem by William Blake
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A Mid-Day Dreamer
I love to sit alone, and dream,
And dream, and dream;
In fancy's boat to softly glide
Along some stream
Where fairy palaces of gold
And crystal bright
Stand all along the glistening shore:
A wondrous sight.
My craft is built of ivory,
With silver oars,
The sails are spun of golden threads,
And priceless stores
Of precious gems adorn its prow,
And 'round its mast
An hundred silken cords are set
To hold it fast.
My galley-slaves are sprightly elves
Who, as they row,
And as their shining oars they swing
Them to and fro,
Keep time to music wafted on
The scented air,
Made by the mermaids as they comb
Their golden hair.
And I the while lie idly back,
And dream, and dream,
And let them row me where they will
Adown the stream.
poem by James Weldon Johnson
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Where Was The Pen?
they came
visiting in
the night
dazzling
lines from
the divine
they glistened
in the fashion
of crystal clear
water, out to sea
meteor bypassing earth
here i am
in full regret
holding on
to a golden
moment
without
the gold
lines never
to come
knocking
again
and my pen
where was it?
where was it?
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Silver Dreams, Golden Smiles
You came to me
In a silver dream
With a glowing flow
Of a mountain stream
You lift my soul
Way beyond the sky
Just to wake me up
With your golden smiles
Chorus:
Silver dreams and golden smiles
Silver dreams and golden smiles
Silver dreams and golden smiles
Silver dreams and golden smiles
I knew one day
You would come my way
You would help me see
The reality
Heaven and earth
They are one, the same
In my heart I know
When you call my name
Chorus
Dreaming when Im wide awake
See, when my eyes are closed
Flying, I dont need no wings
Being everywhere at once
Hold me, hold me in your arms
Fill me with your glowing grace
Chorus
song performed by by Santana
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Idyllic
My love waits for me
on a distant shore
where palm trees grow
and gentle warms winds blow.
Where golden sands stretch
for as far as the eyes can see
and the crystal blue waters
roll to the shore lazily.
Where the large golden eye
looks down from the sky
and life moves at a slower pace
as time slips silently by.
Away from the maddening crowd,
my life’s treasure awaits for my returning
to our home once more
when my roving days are through.
2 October 2009
poem by David Harris
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Come live with me and be my love, And we will all the pleasures prove, That valleys, groves, hills, and fields, Woods, or steepy mountain yields.
quote by Christopher Marlowe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Crisp emerald palm trees
Breezing softly with desire
On hot golden sands
Upon the crystal ocean
Where sunset gleams like fire
tanka by Lisa Cresswell Wilkinson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Passionate Shepherd to his Love
Come live with me and be my love,
And we will all the pleasures prove
That valleys, groves, hills, and fields,
Woods, or steepy mountain yields.
And we will sit upon rocks,
Seeing the shepherds feed their flocks,
By shallow rivers to whose falls
Melodious birds sing madrigals.
And I will make thee beds of roses
And a thousand fragrant poises,
A cap of flowers, and a kirtle
Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle;
A gown made of the finest wool
Which from our pretty lambs we pull;
Fair lined slippers for the cold,
With buckles of the purest gold;
A belt of straw and ivy buds,
With coral clasps and amber studs;
And if these pleasures may thee move,
Come live with me, and be my love.
The shepherds's swains shall dance and sing
For thy delight each May morning:
If these delights thy mind may move,
Then live with me and be my love.
poem by Christopher Marlowe
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Had I A Golden Pound (After The Irish)
Had I a golden pound to spend,
My love should mend and sew no more.
And I would buy her a little quern,
Easy to turn on the kitchen floor.
And for her windows curtains white,
With birds in flight and flowers in bloom,
To face with pride the road to town,
And mellow down her sunlit room.
And with the silver change we'd prove
The truth of Love to life's own end,
With hearts the years could but embolden,
Had I a golden pound to spend.
poem by Francis Ledwidge
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Advertising
Hooks in our psyche floating free
Waiting for our greed to grab them
Fishing for fools in the consumer pool
That's the job of the Ad-Men
If I could steal the bait off hooks
I would do it in every river
I'd tie the lines to crannies and nooks
And watch the baiters quiver
Let truth let out its barbed string
Keeping all greed at bay
Let the jingle singers sing
But
Let the facts have their say
poem by Kishore Asthana
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For Wanting To Write....
perhaps, because of this
i may end up
with a head cut, or
a body shredded like
cheese,
tired limbs like
burnt toast,
perhaps because of that
i may not reach
what destination is reserved by
the lines of my palms,
perhaps i may not even end at
all,
because here you are
reading these lines
and you will like them
not because they are as palatable
as exotic friend frogs
but because you have felt sorrow
and have the smell of pain
the sound of acidic rain
over your hair
now melting and before you notice it
you too have become bald
because of having known much
than what is permitted by all these lines
it is about us,
it is about our being part of this vast
nothingness
sands of the desert
light of the moon spreading on sands of the desert nights
hushing wind
taking all the possible directions
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Surf-Song
Moon amidst halo ebb
entice ocean currents
feel silver beams shine
upon saline sea
Thrown soul sucking surge
inbound momentum tide
soar sweeping wave rolling
into surfsweep shoreline
Surpassing surrealistic dreams ambition
tossing rhythmic shoals
chase moon silver-gilt dreamtime
seize surf singer
Swept forth upon boiling
white crystal sands
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love
Love is the sunlight of the soul,
That, shining on the silken-tressèd head
Of her we love, around it seems to shed
A golden angel-aureole.
And all her ways seem sweeter ways
Than those of other women in that light:
She has no portion with the pallid night,
But is a part of all fair days.
Joy goes where she goes, and good dreams—
Her smile is tender as an old romance
Of Love that dies not, and her soft eye’s glance
Like sunshine set to music seems.
Queen of our fate is she, but crowned
With purple hearts-ease for her womanhood.
There is no place so poor where she has stood
But evermore is holy ground.
An angel from the heaven above
Would not be fair to us as she is fair:
She holds us in a mesh of silken hair,
This one sweet woman whom we love.
We pray thee, Love, our souls to steep
In dreams wherein thy myrtle flowereth;
So when the rose leaves shiver, feeling Death
Pass by, we may remain asleep:
Asleep, with poppies in our hands,
From all the world and all its cares apart—
Cheek close to cheek, heart beating against heart,
While through Life’s sandglass run the sands
poem by Victor James Daley
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A Song Of Poppies
I love red poppies! Imperial red poppies!
Sun-worshippers are they;
Gladly as trees live through a hundred summers
They live one little day.
I love red poppies! Impassioned scarlet poppies!
Ever their strange perfume
Seems like an essence brewed by fairy people
From an immortal bloom.
I love red poppies! Red, silken, swaying poppies!
Deep in their hearts they keep
A magic cure for woe--a draught of Lethe--
A lotus-gift of sleep.
I love red poppies! Soft silver-stemmed, red poppies,
That from the rain and sun
Gather a balm to heal some earth-born sorrow,
When their glad day is done.
poem by Virna Sheard
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Daydream
Shining in the silver moon,
Crystal ships are sailing to the sea.
Dreams the joys of pearls and gold,
And our angels wings in flight unfold.
Fly, fly by my window,
Flyin so free, yeah.
Yes, they fly, fly by my window.
Yes, those bright diamonds a-once were stone,
Rollin down a silver stream.
Yes, those bright diamonds a-once were stone.
Sail on a silver wings of fire,
Sailing dreams beyond the silver moon.
In silver clouds that fly so high,
Live the dreams you search,
But cant find.
(chorus)
song performed by by Journey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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