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The pitcher has to find out if the hitter is timid, and if he is timid, he has to remind the hitter he's timid.
quote by Don Drysdale
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tiny and timid star
One night in my dream i saw a timid and tiny star in sky.
I asked it why it was not so bright,
It told me i am happy within why you think i am tiny and timid,
Everything that shines is not happy within,
I am living cool and peaceful life,
far away from evil and vice,
To shine and become big i will have to loose my might,
I love my lord and i am happy and content
too far by my size and by my light
I asked it why i am not like you
i am not able to be happy within, it told me that you are like me
that's why you don't shine and twinkle,
you remain sad and unhappy like my size and shine
because you are good within,
you are an honest and good soul,
you didn't betrayed anybody
, I asked it again why no body is happy with me,
everybody i feel is against me,
why iam feeling i am trapped in conspir'acy,
they are playing tricks against me,
to prove me bad mad and unworthy,
I can't do anything for me,
It told me that you will one day
will be relieved from all these allegations indeed.
I gave it thanks and i came to understand that,
it was not tiny and timid....
poem by Hemu Gupta
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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He and She
[HE.] I know a youth who loves a little maid -
(Hey, but his face is a sight for to see!)
Silent is he, for he's modest and afraid -
(Hey, but he's timid as a youth can be!)
[SHE.] I know a maid who loves a gallant youth -
(Hey, but she sickens as the days go by!)
SHE cannot tell him all the sad, sad truth -
(Hey, but I think that little maid will die!)
[BOTH.] Now tell me pray, and tell me true,
What in the world should the poor soul do?
[HE.] He cannot eat and he cannot sleep -
(Hey, but his face is a sight for to see!)
Daily he goes for to wail - for to weep -
(Hey, but he's wretched as a youth can be!)
[SHE.] She's very thin and she's very pale -
(Hey, but she sickens as the days go by!)
Daily she goes for to weep - for to wail -
(Hey, but I think that little maid will die!)
[BOTH.] Now tell me pray, and tell me true,
What in the world should the poor soul do?
[SHE.] If I were the youth I should offer her my name -
(Hey, but her face is a sight for to see!)
[HE.] If I were the maid I should fan his honest flame -
(Hey, but he's bashful as a youth can be!)
[SHE.] If I were the youth I should speak to her to-day -
(Hey, but she sickens as the days go by!)
[HE.] If I were the maid I should meet the lad half way -
(For I really do believe that timid youth will die!)
[BOTH.] I thank you much for your counsel true;
I've learnt what that poor soul ought to do!
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The timid fairy girl
That little timid fairy girl
What a woman, she will be
But she is just a picture
With a person underneath
Trapped inside an image
Of radiance and beauty
She is deprived of youth
She wants to be free
Her father and her mother
She hardly gets to see
Not a friend, nor a lover
Was that the price of royalty?
Now the subdued and timid fairy
Darted amongst the crowd
She dreamt of being wild
Though she was not allowed
One fairy, went to stop her
As she scurried through the place
Harsh words gave her instruction
Now she would slow her pace
As soon as she was out of sight
She unfolded youthful wings
Then settled into panicked flight
Too get away from things
Yes, grief enveloped her disfigured mind
It was not ok
All control left was behind
Fly, fly away
Even when the fairies realize
That their star is gone
They won’t rip the curtain
They will carry on
Because even though everybody loved
The princess of their world
They didn't know or love
The timid little girl
poem by Danielle Blyth
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Song #2
One gloomy eve I roamed about
Neath Oxey's hazel bowers,
While timid hares were darting out,
To crop the dewy flowers;
And soothing was the scene to me,
Right pleased was my soul,
My breast was calm as summer's sea
When waves forget to roll.
But short was even's placid smile,
My startled soul to charm,
When Nelly lightly skipt the stile,
With milk-pail on her arm:
One careless look on me she flung,
As bright as parting day;
And like a hawk from covert sprung,
It pounced my peace away.
poem by John Clare
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Man in the Arena
The Man in the Arena
Find what you love, to that be true
Care less for what “they“ think of you.
Follow your internal muse
Dare to take risks and pay your dues.
Some such succeed and triumphs gain,
Others strive but all in vain.-
For both their place can never be
Out in the dark periphery.
In the end our lives are spent
Pursing dreams or paying rent
The choice is ours to play our role
Don’t be a cold and timid soul.
Though our faces be marred by dust and sweat
we are the ones they won't forget.
Not the faceless critic in his seat
who knows neither victory nor defeat
J.M.
“The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena; whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, and spends himself in a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows in the end the triumph of high achievement; and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.”-President Theodore Roosevelt
poem by John F. McCullagh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Little Africa
I saw little Africa in your face,
Bold and handsome in your case.
I saw a door of hope,
A light that will bring greatness.
I saw a timid smile,
Earthly yet with great courage.
I saw a paradigm of self-reliance
Robust with stardust in your eyes.
I saw little Africa a dawn of hope.
A hero for all, at the end of day.
You are the future of tomorrow,
A wisdom for those who are forgotten.
Timid smile, yet with sparkling eyes.
I saw wisdom coiled beneath your head.
Grace and strength be upon your brow.
Heaven may bless your hearts desire.
poem by Tess Rockenstire
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Saintly Tiger
here comes tiger
he has reached old age
he says i have lost my brave image
i am subject of laughter even of cage
suddenly an idea striked him i will catch animals by becoming sage
soon this surprise came to animals rise
everybody used to visit tiger
he used to eat them and say
your brain is like brick
you cannot understand my trick
once fox came to knew this news
fox said tiger may be timid
but my brain is double speed
he went to tiger cave
i am new tiger and i will fight you and make your grave
challenge from other tiger was rare the sage was scared
fox trickery made dissapear the tiger's timid bravery
poem by Rohan Bendre
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fear Kills Fifty Percent
Unfortunate fear kills fifty percent
Humans, animals not significant!
Why and how none has logical reason
Fear for all, sure, in and out of season!
Strong wind, shadow and rain all cause of fear
Fear of pain, fear of life, fear of death near
Sure a funny world and man not knowing
What to fear and what not to-suffering
And dying mentally, day in and out!
Intellect fails, thoughts struck and vision shut
Sure miserable life not worth living!
Just a little clarity in thinking
A bit of rational analysis
Great faith in the Almighty's emphasis
Sure to help the timid to fight the ghost
And stay at their homes sans thought of the post!
Pain and panic shall not enter the soul
That has strong mind and firm will as a whole!
Fear not to kill that fear that kills the half
Humans or animals fear the other sharp
Sans rhyme or reason, in spring or summer
The young or old, boy or girl-made thinner!
The timid suffers and the strong prospers
Nature helps them not but sure the strong!
poem by Subbaraman N V
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Time Has Arrived To Fight Back Terror
Time has arrived to repay
fierce, timid terror its due
and time has arrived not
to sit in silence and suffer.
TIme has arrived those demons
who dance around like flames
of fire and who hide from
their caverns to be cleared
from the earth.
And it is time, time to uproot
fierce, timid terror and it is
time to fight back for
the innocent lives.
Time has arrived not
to sit in silence and suffer
and time has come to
repay their dues.
November 29,2008
poem by Gayatri Nambiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Morning Peace
THE sudden sunbeams slant between the trees
Like solid bars of silver. moonlight kissed,
And strike the supine shadows where they rest
Stretched sleeping; while a timid, new-born Breeze
Stirs through the grasses, petulant—her eyes
Half-blinded by the clinging scarves of mist:
Her robes, that tangled through the grasses twist,
Weave as she moves sweet whispered melodies.
O may it be a morn like this, when slow
From a dark world beneath my soul shall go
Through the wet grasses of a purple plain,
Still stretching broader in the cool, grey glow
Of morning twllight: then my soul shall know
That life and love are lost—and found again!
poem by Arthur Henry Adams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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As Psyche-Life goes down to the shades
As Psyche-Life goes down to the shades
In a translucent forest in Persephone's tracks,
A blind swallow falls at her feet
With Stygian tenderness and a green branch.
The shades flock to meet the fugitive,
Welcome their new visitor with laments,
Wring their feeble hands before her
Bewildered and in timid hope.
One holds a mirror, another a phial of perfume --
The soul is a woman, fond of trifles
And the leafless forest is sprinkled with fine rain of
Laments, dry transparent voices.
And in the gentle confusion, not knowing what to begin,
The soul does not recognize the spectral wood,
Breathes on the mirror, and hesitates to give
The copper coin from the misty crossing.
poem by Osip Emilevich Mandelstam
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love Conquers Death
Love conquers Death by night and day,
Beguiles him long of his destined prey;
And when, at last, that seems to perish
Which he hath striven still to cherish,
Love plucks the soul from the fallen clay.
Death is not master, but Love's slave:
He smites the timid and the brave;
Yet as he fares, with sweet low laughter,
Love, the sower, follows after,
Scattering seed in each new-made grave!
poem by Florence Earle Coates from Poems (1898)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Love
Love, though it is not chill and cold,
But burning like eternal fire,
Is yet not of approaches bold,
Which gay dramatic tastes admire.
Oh timid love, more fond than free,
In daring song is ill pourtrayed,
Where, as in war, the devotee
By valour wins each captive maid;--
Where hearts are prest to hearts in glee,
As they could tell each other's mind;
Where ruby lips are kissed as free,
As flowers are by the summer wind.
No! gentle love, that timid dream,
With hopes and fears at foil and play,
Works like a skiff against the stream,
And thinking most finds least to say.
It lives in blushes and in sighs,
In hopes for which no words are found;
Thoughts dare not speak but in the eyes,
The tongue is left without a sound.
The pert and forward things that dare
Their talk in every maiden's ear,
Feel no more than their shadows there--
Mere things of form, with nought of fear.
True passion, that so burns to plead,
Is timid as the dove's disguise;
Tis for the murder-aiming gleed
To dart at every thing that flies.
True love, it is no daring bird,
But like the little timid wren,
That in the new-leaved thorns of spring
Shrinks farther from the sight of men.
The idol of his musing mind,
The worship of his lonely hour,
Love woos her in the summer wind,
And tells her name to every flower;
But in her sight, no open word
Escapes, his fondness to declare;
The sighs by beauty's magic stirred
Are all that speak his passion there.
poem by John Clare
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tis Souls In Dejection Which Inspired This
Ask me what I love and I say I don't know
For my love is something mysterious that I cannot show
It's in my sentimental soul, in my timid tears
It's in my ardent anxiety, in my unfounded fears
Methinks, in my conscience my love is born
When I see humanity barren and forlorn
My love love's naught, but painfully feels
The lack of love in others and the dejection it conceals
Yet, I try to love, to be its virtuous voice
To speak of its beauty, is mine choice
Although I do not know what love really is
This poem is dedicated for love I believe it is
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Past and Future
The new hath come and now the old retires:
And so the past becomes a mountain-cell,
Where lone, apart, old hermit-memories dwell
In consecrated calm, forgotten yet
Of the keen heart that hastens to forget
Old longings in fulfilling new desires.
And now the Soul stands in a vague, intense
Expectancy and anguish of suspense,
On the dim chamber-threshold . . . lo! he sees
Like a strange, fated bride as yet unknown,
His timid future shrinking there alone,
Beneath her marriage-veil of mysteries.
poem by Sarojini Naidu
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Need To Be Named...
how do i know to speak of love?
she has taken my body,
and made it a chair.
she broke my legs,
and threw them into the fire,
started by sparks from my own eyes.
she took my soul and named it a wind,
that frightens the timid,
and fills the roar of the lion.
she took my feet,
and made them chapters...
she formed my hands into valleys,
and flooded them with my heart's desires...
she took my breath,
and stirred darkness with the magic
of the simple and the touched....
she took my identity,
and made me nameless,
and beyond the need to be named!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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