So they all went away from the little log house. The shutters were over the windows, so the little house could not see them go. It stayed there inside the log fence, behind the two big oak trees that in the summertime had made green roofs for Mary and Laura to play under.
quote by Laura Ingalls Wilder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Tonight Something Hot Is Going On
outside the
fence of the house
the dogs
the bitches are
doing it tonight
in heat
they bark at each others'
lust
who can fence
lust?
no one stops
a river
no one can keep
the rain
from falling
look at us
how pitiful have we become
because
of civilization
we are inside this house
with safe windows
with well locked doors
high fences
thick walls
how unhappy
can restraint ever be?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Twelve
a woman in an early morning sweeping some trash
away from the house
a heap of garbage
thrown on the road for the garbage truck to pick it up...
whistles her way inside the house
locks the gates
enters the door
and opens all the windows of the house
meeting a brand new day
filled with warm sunshine
and cool air breathings
from the yard's green trees.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Deserted House
Life and Thought have gone away
Side by side,
Leaving door and windows wide.
Careless tenants they!
All within is dark as night:
In the windows is no light;
And no murmur at the door,
So frequent on its hinge before.
Close the door; the shutters close;
Or through the windows we shall see
The nakedness and vacancy
Of the dark deserted house.
Come away: no more of mirth
Is here or merry-making sound.
The house was builded of the earth,
And shall fall again to ground.
Come away: for Life and Thought
Here no longer dwell;
But in a city glorious -
A great and distant city -have bought
A mansion incorruptible.
Would they could have stayed with us!
poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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The Monument Of All Our Wrongs
i build a house
no one likes it.
the house is empty
i put some chairs.
someone comes and
says, this house is
lonely, it needs
a sound
it is boring and needs
a paint
i put a tree beside
its stairs
i grow another
fence
i put a lone bulb
on a post
and leave the house
for good
that is what the
house is made
there is always
missing
something is
always wrong
this is the house
of regret
it is the monument
of all our wrongs.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hidden Drive
there's a dirty house that's falling apart
some want to fix it but they don't know where to start
there's cobwebs and cracks in the walls
this is where rain's relief dares not to fall
no one really cares to help this place
they just look at the face
this old house is kept inside
with a disguising shell to hide
something i noticed as i passed by
at the house where hope will die
the windows were clean and new
though everywhere else the weeds grew
the windows had such an allure
i couldn't take it anymore
i gazed at the windows in awe
then through them i saw
the messy, run-down house inside
where beauty died
then i realized
something about eyes
eyes are the windows
clean and lovely for show
but behind them is the soul
sometimes your eyes will fool
the beauty and shine will not last
for one day, someone will see past.
poem by Alex Manson
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House Without Windows
La........
Im gonna buy myself (buy myself)
A house without windows (windows)
So I wont see you walkin by (walkin by)
And youll never see me cry
For all the lovin I had you treat me so bad and run away
So when you look inside (look inside)
You will never see me cry and cry
In my house without love
Im gonna build myself (build myself)
A house without windows (windows)
So I can hide the pan (hide the pain)
And youll never see me cry again
So when youre passing my way
Each time of the day ,youll feel the love in you
And you cant look inside
So youll never see my cry and cry
In my house without you
La....
(break)
For all the lovin I had , you treat me so bad and run away
So when you look inside ( look inside)
You will never see me cry and cry in my house without love
La....
(fade)
song performed by by Bee Gees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In This House
in this house
where you've been
what you've seen
were the windows
in this house
where you've been
what you've seen
were the doors
in this house
where you've sat
what you ate
was your food
in this house
where you've sat
what you ate
was the word
in this house
where you stood
what you could
something say
in this house
you could open
windows doors clapping wings
in this house
you could open
soul that heaven upward sings
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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The House of Stone
I came, from where?
From the house made of stone...
My aunt Romana -
That whom you do not know,
When she had an accident
She stayed in the house of stone
To get well and recover...
But with a cutting tongue
Against my father,
She said to me,
'T'is a big house made of stone,
But inside here lives an owl! '
Where did I come from?
From that house of stone...
But I cannot fathom,
Was her anger so deep
For the owl on pedestal,
The King of our clan;
Was corrupted and fallen
Weakened by the flesh of men...
My Aunt Romana, she left
And my father is dead;
The house made of stone
Forever ruined...
But the lesson of the owl lives;
And him fondly remembered!
poem by Jane Quijano
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Astonishing Forest
Where the house filled with living
The house continuously giving
Where the house filled with nature
The house filled with adventure
Anything can survive
With the nature it provides
Where the house filled with grass
The house filled with hedges, bushes and plants
Canopy trees be it rain or shine
Will be there for you at any time
Where the green house filled with fresh air
Will shelter you in the heavy rain
O the house of beauty
O the house of sound
So much variety is yet to be found
poem by Sehar Zaman
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Song for a Little House
I'M glad our house is a little house,
Not too tall nor too wide:
I'm glad the hovering butterflies
Feel free to come inside.
Our little house is a friendly house.
It is not shy or vain;
It gossips with the talking trees,
And makes friends with the rain.
And quick leaves cast a shimmer of green
Against our whited walls,
And in the phlox, the dutious bees
Are paying duty calls.
poem by Christopher Morley
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Shattered windows, Colors of white
Across the street is a new house with a room painted red, with no holes of white.
Next to me, a house purple, with its color pealing off, with holes of black and white
At the end of the street, an old house once yellow, what now remains white.
The sound of a hammer building a house, entering a place with a color unknown.
On the street,
Windows covered with ice
Some shine with light.
Some broken
Some fixed
Some lost, out of sight.
A house, two blocks from here.
Shines with lights of yellow, red, and green everywhere.
A wall keeping the wind from blowing anywhere.
The house next door, at the dawn of the day.
Paints its room black, and peals the color away.
The wall crumbles.
The wind blows across the colors of yellow, red and green
Breaks all the windows.
Turns the yellow to blue, red to black, and green to white.
The house two blocks away.
Adds a line of yellow red and green everyday.
To allow the house of blue, black and white to shine for us some day.
poem by Linda ErikssonBique
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In The Summertime
I was in your presence for an hour or so
Or was it a day? I truly dont know.
Where the sun never set, where the trees hung low
By that soft and shining sea.
Did you respect me for what I did
Or for what I didnt do, or for keeping it hid?
Did I lose my mind when I tried to get rid
Of everything you see?
In the summertime, ah in the summertime,
In the summertime when you were with me.
I got the heart and you got the blood,
We cut through iron and we cut through mud.
Then came the warnin that was before the flood
That set everybody free.
Fools they made a mock of sin,
Our loyalty they tried to win
But you were closer to me than my next of kin
When they didnt want to know or see.
In the summertime, ah in the summertime,
In the summertime when you were with me.
Strangers, they meddled in our affairs,
Poverty and shame was theirs.
But all that sufferin was not to be compared
With the glory that is to be.
And Im still carrying the gift you gave,
Its a part of me now, its been cherished and saved,
Itll be with me unto the grave
And then unto eternity.
In the summertime, ah in the summertime,
In the summertime when you were with me.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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They Are Tearing Down My Grandfather's House
(An NLP Editor's Choice Award Winner in Verdant Lands of Spring) They are tearing down my Grandfather's house,
it's made of wood and brick and stone.
The windows they've removed. To them it's real
estate, to me it's my heart being ripped in two.
The realtors, the bankers, the moneymen don't understand.
A house is more than made of wood, a house is made of man. My Grandfather's house is a memory that will
endure after it's torn down.
He's been gone for near thirty years, but his
house had lived on.
I know the world is made of change, and change
is all that's real. But one thing I cannot change,
that is the way I feel. I wipe a tear in the falling rain,
because they are tearing down my Grandfather's
house, and it gives me pain.
I love him as if it were yesteryear,
his wit and smile as warm as the sun.
The house once stood to remind me, but that too
is gone. They are tearing down my Grandfather's house,
it's made of wood and brick and stone.
Yet a house if more than made of wood,
a house is made of love.
poem by David A. Webb
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A long time ago, when all the grandfathers and grandmothers of today were little boys and little girls or very small babies, or perhaps not even born, Pa and Ma and Mary and Laura and Baby Carrie left their little house in the Big Woods of Wisconsin.
quote by Laura Ingalls Wilder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A House for Four
A house for four
What is it? a house for four
A dingy looking thing
Are there windows? none
What is it? a house for four
Such a palace
Are there greetings? none
What is it? a house for four
Why the space is so small
Is there privacy? none
What is it? a house for four
A dozen creeps could be creeping there
Is there any trust? none
Don't judge me for mine
Poor fool i wont
Even give you the time
Are you judging me?
Your quite the choir
With a cracking voice
And
A tall house that falls
To scrutiny
A house for four and
A house for four
A people of choir and
A people of poor
Do you not recognize
The stains are yours?
A house is not a house
Unless there is more
More and more
Sometimes less is more
poem by Deci Hernandez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The path that went by the little house had become a road. Almost every day Laura and Mary stopped their playing and stared in surprise at a wagon slowly creaking by on that road.
quote by Laura Ingalls Wilder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Deceit
Inside my world of cherries trees,
And bumble bees,
And summer breeze,
Inside my world of cherries trees,
Take all you wish.
Take it, please.
Inside my house of stately poses
And vibrant roses
And jolly toses
Inside my house of stately poses
Take all you wish.
Take all the doses.
Inside my treat of fine courses
And tasty forces
And smelly sources
Inside my treat of fine courses
Take all you wish.
Take from all the sources.
Inside my wish is my world, house, and treat
My mind's only retreat
My pain's only defeat
Inside my wish is my world, house, and treat
Take all you wish.
Too bad for you, my wish is deceit.
poem by Andy Greenwald
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Easter Scene
a woman in an early morning sweeping some trash
away from the house
a heap of garbage
thrown on the road for the garbage truck to pick it up...
whistles her way inside the house
locks the gates
enters the door
and opens all the windowsof the house
meeting a brand new day
filled with warm sunshine
and cool air breathings
from the yard's green trees.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Black House On The Corner
I passed by that house everday,
wondering what lurked inside of it,
was their some kind of ancient evil inside,
or a normal family that we never saw,
a house of macarbe,
it was painted black like the devil's sin,
it was surrouned by devilish-looking,
figures that stood outside on the line,
was also surrounded by a black pointed fence,
rumors of the devil himself living there,
the devil in the flesh,
satan living on my street corner,
The black house on the corner,
can't you see it,
you must walk past it everyday to,
dosen't your mind wander,
when you walk by The black house,
don't you to know what lays inside of the house,
maybe a ton of dead bodies under the floor boards,
a madman butcherd up his family,
could that be true,
or are our young minds racing again,
with impure and insane thoughts about,
who or what lives in the black house on the corner,
the black house,
painted with the devil's sin,
We were told to stay away from the black house,
that so many evils lived inside of it,
but us being kids we didn't want to live,
we wanted to see what was inside of the black house on the corner,
But we are to afraid to go forward,
we are to afraid to step through the gate,
and walk up the beaten path to the door bell,
it looks so old and so evil,
The black house on the corner,
we shall never know what evilness,
or what macabre force resides within,
the black house on the corner,
whatever you do,
don't go into the black house on the corner,
stay away from,
the black house on the corner,
it holds so many evils,
the black house on the corner,
poem by Robert Rumery
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stranger In The House
We dont talk much
We dont make love like we used to
And I stay guarded
Ive got walls and triggers
I never thought I had
And so do you
But this is love
And thats the way we seem content to play it
I touch your clothes when youre gone
I let your scent wash over me
You cry at night and you wish just like a child
That we were how we used to be
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
And she looks like somebody from a lifetime ago
I stonewall you, you stonewall me
But we both know that
Hiding deep inside us
Lives the love that we try hard to lose
And never will
But this is war
And thats the way we seem content to fight it
I get so angry and confused cause
I want out but I want you
You cant decide between moving out or moving in
You dont know what to do
With a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
And she looks like you
And he looks like me
Is this the same girl that, I fought so hard to win
And now I fight to lose her
Now I feel that its just like skin to skin
And nerve to nerve
Strung out like wire
Is that the way we are content to live
We face off in anger
In rooms once filled with love
Looking for a chink in the armour
Where we can stab the blade
What are we thinking of
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
And she looks like somebody from a lifetime ago
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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