En.Citatepedia^®.ro

The parish of Selborne, by taking in so much of the forest, is a vast district.

quote by Gilbert White
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

I Walked Last Night In A District I Lived In For Almost Twenty Years

I WALKED LAST NIGHT IN A DISTRICT I LIVED IN FOR ALMOST TWENTY YEARS

I walked last night in a district I lived in for almost twenty years
I came back after being away for a time
To visit an old and ailing friend
The streets were empty and lonely as they often were then-
I thought for the first time I understood how lonely the district itself is-
‘A lonely district’
I wondered how I managed to live there all those years
And how anyone still manages to live there-
I looked up at the sky and wrote in my mind a small poem of a kind I wrote many of in my years there
I remembered teachers and friends who had lived there
No longer of this district or any district on earth
I wondered how life goes and how from so many years so much life has been lived without having any place in my memory
I felt as empty inside as the district without
I did not have to wait long for the bus
And relieved inside it I put my heart to home
So many years had been lived there
I remembered taking my small children to the playground there
Now they thank G-d have children of their own
Oh the years go by and the life we have lived in them largely dies
Forever to be unknown again-
I put my heart and mind in a different direction
And began to do what I always do – not think of the district again
Life is this mystery and question we live through and never wholly possess even as we are experiencing it
How long before all will be gone for me
Including the district I live in now?

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

I wouldn't say the world is my parish, but my readers are my parish. And especially the readers that write to me. They're my parish. And it's a responsibility that I enjoy.

quote by Andrew Greeley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

The Mighty Thor of Algo. Park I

The great Algonquin park,
lush forest of great unknowns,
the secrets that lie in her shadows,
and mystery that have found home.

Deep inside this forest green
A lonewolf's trail forges it's path,
In and out of her vast density,
The hunting spirit, and days pass.

The mighty soul of spirit one,
In search of great surrender,
Preys upon the offers taking,
solitude, being it's defender.

A passage from such journey,
Brings conjure of such folklore,
The truths and myths that abound,
O f this singular mighty Thor......

poem by Geoff Warden
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Yes, I was a parish priest for five years. I was a curate in a large working class parish in Bristol and the Vicar of a village in Kent.

quote by John Polkinghorne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

I know the district. I know a lot of people in the district. I know how to get where I'm going.

quote by Phil Hare
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

The Greatest Book

x x x x
is not the one
whose
message
engraves itself
on the
brain

x x x x
- but the one
whose
vital impact
opens up
other
viewpoints,

x x x x

and from writer
to reader
spreads
the fire

x x x x

that is fed by
the various
essences,

x x x x
until it becomes
a vast conflagration
leaping from
forest to
forest.'

-romain roland

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Tax reform and expanded trade are going to be so important to the economy of Illinois, particularly the 11th Congressional District, which is a major manufacturing and a major agricultural district.

quote by Jerry Weller
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

We have built a genuine level of enthusiasm and goodwill with people throughout this district. People are really excited about the possibilities this election holds, not just for this district, but because of the message Alabama sent to the rest of the country.

quote by Artur Davis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

A Man From The Slum District

ı a m a man from a slum district
my pockets are empty and moneyı ess
in obligation
ı am a member of a fake syndicate
in the factory ı work as a laborer
ı f open my mouth
and talk against my bosses
ı will be booted and fired
find myself in the streets
ı am a man nfrom a slum district
my struggle with others is obligatary
to survive
ı drink wine which kills a dog
ı am screaming all night in the streets
against alll these
with the night watches guarding me
ı am a man from a slum district
my badly cladding is also obligatory
in beyoglu
policemen strolling..watching and batoning me
sometimes to death
ı am a man from a slum district
ı f ı touch others' wind they lick me and bruise me
my love affairs are unjust and obligatory too
fathers are on watch in front of their houses
if ı look at a girl or even gaze at their daughters
it will be the cause of the many murders
Yusuf HAYALOGLU.....Translation Metin Ş AHİ N

poem by Metin Sahin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Forest For The Trees

When youre a young man, down and out
You really need someone to help you out
It looks like life or death is your only choice
Its really hard to see
The forest for the trees
The forest for the trees
And when you get angry and everythings black or white
You should know that it isnt that simple, no ones always right
You know that youre life it worth living
You gotta start taking if no one else is giving
And if youre not afraid to open your eyes
You may be pleasantly surprised
Thigs are never as bad as they seem
You just gotta learn to see
The forest for the trees
So if you need somebody, tell them please
If you want someone, get up off your knees
Things are never as bad as they seem
You just gotta learn to see
The forest for the trees

song performed by by Huey Lewis And The News
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

A Twin

the vastness of love
can be a desert
or a wild forest

in the desert the winds
of emptiness blows
all day

in the wild forest the
heavy rains pour
all year round

in said places
time like sand spills
people imagine all the
ghosts of pains
and so i wonder
what love really is

in the vast forest
a bee complains that it is homeless
a butterfly cries on broken wings
in the desert the skull of a horse
is watched by still
hungry vultures
after all
what happened

so, is pain actually love's
twin sister?

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Father Ed

The day of his ordination his widowed mum's happiest day
To Sainthood she said my son is on his way
She raised him on her own when his dad of a heart attack died
Of her only offspring she took so much pride
At sixty eight he died in his sleep with his mum he now lay
At his funeral this morning his Parishioners for his soul did pray
He had been their Parish Priest for more than twenty years
And they did farewell him in sadness and tears
Of their Parish Priests the greatest of all
His sunday sermons on morals and chastity they will long recall
But the saddest one at the funeral was his housekeeper Kate
With head bowed as she sobbed she whispered I have lost my soul-mate
To me he was far more than Parish Priest Father Ed
He was my secret lover and he was damn good in bed.

poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Your Silence

You stand on a mountain taking a view of the vast space
Like any other men and women you have the right to stand in the middle of these
Hills and the rolling sights of everything like some big waves
On this forest,
What you cannot stand like the rest is the sound of howling emptiness
You are on top of the situation I suppose
You are very near the clouds
You talk to each of them that drift and pass but you have not heard even a single
Word,
The birds that pass and go away from where you stand know this
Each has shed a feather or two as tribute
They know much better and they have flown away and lived their ways
They know much better and so they have no reason

To complain. Look at you, your silence is growing like cancer in your ears.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Vast Times And Vast Spaces

VAST TIMES AND VAST SPACES

Vast times and vast spaces
Preceded our being here
Vast times and vast spaces
Will be should we disappear-

Yet our hearts tell us
A revelation from God we be-
And wherever the Universe takes us
We’ll go on for Infinity.

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Beautiful nature in the forest

Our beatiful nature
as it is full of leisure
it keeps us suuplied with food
and gives us too shelter which is good

our beautiful nature
in the forest the trees swing
while the birds sing
the grass dance at the birds tune
as their moisture will run away so soon

our beautiful nature
as you step inside the forest
i set my foot on the ground to rest
as the forest skin holds my feet
the dew rans way and the grass take a sit

our beautiful nature
i pick out a fruit from a tree
since they are provided for free
i dont even need to bend on to one knee

i relax inside with calm
since the forest has also a natural charm
which will protect me
from any living predators

lastly i came out happily
as i was fed so quickly
which makes me to be taking care of nature
so lets all take care of nature

poem by Tanaka Chirombo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Green Roads

The green roads that end in the forest
Are strewn with white goose feathers this June,

Life marks left behind by someone gone to the forest
To show his track. But he has never come back.

Down each green road a cottage looks at the forest.
Round one the nettle towers; two are bathed in flowers.

An old man along the green road to the forest
Strays from one, from another a child alone.

In the thicket bordering the forest,
All day long a thrush twiddles his song.

It is old, but the trees are young in the forest,
All but one like a castle keep, in the middle deep.

That oak saw the ages pass in the forest:
They were a host, but their memories are lost,

For the tree is dead: all things forget the forest
Excepting perhaps me, when now I see

The old man, the child, the goose feathers at the edge of the forest,
And hear all day long the thrush repeat his song.

poem by Edward Thomas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The magic forest

At the Bois de Boulogne lies magic
Magic that cannot be evitable
Magic that lures people into the evergreen forest
In the forest, soft earth is like a comfy bed
Meadows of grass are green sheets for the bed

If you happen to lie down on the bed
The sunlight hugs your body gently like a mother
Your eyes are heavy weights, unable to keep your eyes open
You fall into the sweetest dream as time goes by…

Night walked into the forest as day walked out of the forest
The pale moon is like a glass eye of a witch staring at you
The dark magic falls into the forest
Lusty monsters fill the magic forest
And the magic forest falls asleep…

poem by Jay Haa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Fertile Lands and Mammoth Cheese

In barren district you may meet
Small fertile spot doth grow fine wheat,
There you may find the choicest fruits,
And great, round, smooth and solid roots.

But in conditions such as these
You cannot make a mammoth cheese,
Which will weigh eight thousand pounds,
But where large fertile farms abounds.

Big cheese is synonymous name,
With the fertile district of the Thame,
Here dairy system's understood,
And they are made both large and good.

poem by James McIntyre
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Fire Bells Are Ringing

One, two, three--hark, hark, boys!
One, two, three, four!
The fire-bells are ringing, this wild wintry night;
They ask aid from District Thirty-four,
There somebody's riches are now taking flight;
On flame-wings away, away they soar.
But hark!
With shriek and wail,
How raves the gale!
Like demon steeds it speeds--
like galloping gangs from Pandemonium hurl'd.
Yes, firemen, take courage! did valiant deeds avail,
Then you were the victors of the world.

Ring the bells again!
Wake the electric wire!
And flash abroad the warning words--
"FIRE! FIRE!"
God save the city! for man's devices fail
When fierce flames with wintry winds conspire,
But hark!
With shriek and wail (With shriek and wail!)
How raves the gale! (How raves the gale!)
Like demon steeds it speeds--
like galloping gangs from Pandemonium hurl'd.
Yes, firemen, take courage! did valiant deeds avail,
Then your were the victors of the world.

One, two, three--hark, hark, boys!
One, two, three, four!
The fire-bells are ringing, an urgent appeal;
The engines go dashing by the door,
All safe here, children, no fear need we feel;
But God help in District Thirty-four,
What's that?
Look there! look there!
A lurid glare
Lights up the sky--aye, aye!
and columns of red, devouring flame appear.
And see! for departure our neighbors prepare;
Perchance there is danger even here.

One, two, three--hark, hark, boys!
One, two, three, four!
The fire-bells are ringing, a last grand alarm;
How vast must the conflagration be!
Our own roof is blazing! yet where, free from harm,
Oh! where shall we our treasures flee?
Let's haste!
'Twill fall! 'Twill fall--
That granite wall;
I see it crumbling, tumbling!
Fly for your lives, from out this fiery grave!
Laid low, crush'd, buried are some beyond recall;
But thank God! my little flock I save.

poem by Henry Clay Work
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Unicorns and Myth

Many moons ago, England had its myths,
Stories of fairies, leprechauns and unicorns,
Who lived in a mythological land,
Where mystery and magic still stand,
For the forest were dark and dangerous places,
The unsuspecting walking through their depths,
Knowing the magical creatures watching over their steps,
Protecting them from the devil that hides in the dark,
Shadows waiting in the tall trees,
But nature has always had its power in magic,
White witches harnessing nature's secret power,
The plants and trees that surround and fill the forest,
Magic and myth to be found in the dark green leaves,
For the forest contains many secrets,
Many secrets where unicorns run at the witching hour,
Or the moon sharing her secret power,
And there are many beautiful flowers,
Blooming, even in the dark,
The fairies sprinkling their magic dust,
To make mushrooms and petals grow,
The forest rich with its vast, magical beauty,
That has captured the imagination of all who see.

poem by Paula Glynn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!