Content Written Off Ithaca
I could not find the little maid Content,
So out I rushed, and sought her far and wide;
But not where Pleasure each new fancy tried,
Heading the maze of reeling merriment,
Nor where, with restless eyes and bow half bent,
Love in a brake of sweetbrier smiled and sighed,
Nor yet where Fame towered crowned and glorified,
Found I her face, nor wheresoe'er I went.
So homeward back I crawled like wounded bird,
When lo! Content sate spinning at my door:
And when I asked her where she was before-
``Here all the time,'' she said; ``I never stirred;
Too eager in your search, you passed me o'er,
And, though I called, you neither saw nor heard.''
poem by Alfred Austin
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Bess
A dress that speaks of life,
The frayed edges hang like bar codes
Spelling out her past.
Bess was content.
Her flowing auburn hair a distant memory,
Now replaced by black and white,
The colours of her age.
Bess was content.
Half way down her nose her glasses sat,
With flour coated fingerprint etched lenses
Betraying this morning's cooking
Bess was still content
Soft slippers now where once heels were worn,
Her stoop a testament to such fashion
The hips a little broader now,
Bess was still content.
Here she was, all that she could be,
A wife, a mother, a nurse, a listener, a lover
But all the time that dress said more than that
Bess was still content
Then in the background voices came to life,
Such laughter only youngsters make,
The door flies open 'Mum we are home! '
Bess just smiled that smile... so content.
poem by Dave James
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The Quest
I am looking for Love. Has he passed this way,
With eyes as blue as the skies of May,
And a face as fair as the summer dawn?--
You answer back, but I wander on,--
For you say: 'Oh, yes; but his eyes were gray,
And his face as dim as a rainy day.'
Good friends, I query, I search for Love;
His eyes are as blue as the skies above,
And his smile as bright as the midst of May
When the truce-bird pipes: Has he passed this way?
And one says: 'Ay; but his face, alack!
Frowned as he passed, and his eyes were black.'
O who will tell me of Love? I cry!
His eyes are as blue as the mid-May sky,
And his face as bright as the morning sun;
And you answer and mock me, every one,
That his eyes were dark, and his face was wan,
And he passed you frowning and wandered on.
But stout of heart will I onward fare,
Knowing _my_ Love is beyond--somewhere,--
The Love I seek, with the eyes of blue,
And the bright, sweet smile unknown of you;
And on from the hour his trail is found
I shall sing sonnets the whole year round.
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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The Quest
I dreamt a dream like none before.
It stirred my very soul!
It started with an open door
Through which I chose to stroll.
Then, once inside, that room beyond,
My heart was filled with fear!
Yet how else could my heart respond?
I sensed that God was here!
Then, suddenly, I heard Him speak
As He called out my name...
I trembled and my legs grew weak.
My conscience brought me shame.
'Fear not! ' He said, 'We meet this night
To put you on a quest! '
'What for? ' I asked without delight...
No way did I feel blessed!
'You've prayed a lot! ' the Lord replied.
'A woman you desire! '
I've heard you when you've sighed and sighed!
Yes, you're quite a sigher!
Your quest, My son, is search and find
One woman for your wife!
One woman with a holy mind
To live with all your life! '
Then God was gone and I awoke,
Still trembling, scared to death!
Wondering, was this just a joke?
Or Christ from Nazareth! ?
Somehow I sensed God had a plan,
A sacred destiny.
That morning came and so began
The quest God meant for me...
I walked across the years ahead...
My youth then passed me by...
In middle age, and still not wed,
I humbly wondered why.
No woman with a holy mind,
Obedient to God's Laws.
I tested them, but couldn't find
A female without flaws.
I prayed to God, 'I've failed, my Lord!
No woman cares for me...
No woman's love is my reward
To share eternally...'
Then old age came and Death approached,
'How goes your noble quest? '
'Be still! ' rebuked the Holy Ghost...
'I know he did his best...'
poem by Denis Martindale
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Love at First Sight
We met and let our eyes speak,
We meant to talk, but felt so weak.
'Was it love at first sight? ', I wondered,
'Was it just a mere idea? ', I murmured.
Then words helped us break the ice.
How lovely was the talk! How nice!
Time felt we stole His hours,
We felt time was just ours.
We knew we were meant to meet,
At such a time, in such a heat.
Soon I called her my better half,
Soon I tasted the joy of love.
We rushed to pledge for ever,
To rise to glory or fall together.
She meant the world to me and more
I meant no less with my little lore.
We were so happy and content,
To lead our life, and were so bent,
To stick together through thick and thin,
To tell the world our true love was no sin.
Love is when hearts soar to happiness,
Love is a cure for the heart's sickness.
For me and her love was, is and will be,
The air of this life and of the one to be.
poem by Omar Jabak
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Emma's Dell
A poet roamed by rushing brook
Early springtime morning. The sound
Seemed softer than it should,
Tempered by, tempering,
Eager buds, new greens all around.
Still bare trees, they tempered too.
Contrast breeds content.
Then round a turn mad rushing brook
Maddened beast and bird.
Sound seemed of the air-
Like air, would never cease.
Green seemed of the rocks.
Content is content.
A cottage overlooked the brook.
'My thoughts at least are mine.
I've told them to the shepherds.
How contrast can contain content.
How content is content.
Pondering perhaps my words
Years after we are spent
They'll call the dell not what I call it,
They'll call it WILL'S DELL EMMA.'
poem by Douglas Scotney
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A Slug's Life
I met a young slug, who gave me a shrug,
And said that his life, was so full of strife,
He'd wandered around, no 'she' slug had he found,
He so wanted to find, someone who was kind.
Setting off in haste, he had no time to waste,
And slithered into, a flowerbed venue.
He saw her right there, Oh my, did he care,
Such charm on display, his love he'd convey.
Into petals she crawled, and he was enthralled,
He followed in a dream, mesmerized it would seem,
As coy as could be, she asked him to tea,
And enjoyed toast and jam, and also some spam.
He then met her Dad, who liked her new lad,
And gave his consent, so they were content,
To wait for the day, when their vows they would say.
He was certainly not subfusc, but an excited mollusc.
The wedding was grand, just as they had planned,
His blushing new bride, smiled, all starry-eyed,
They would honeymoon too, at a posh rendezvous,
For he'd won him a wife, and escaped from his strife.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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I believe that the brain has evolved over millions of years to be responsive to different kinds of content in the world. Language content, musical content, spatial content, numerical content, etc.
quote by Howard Gardner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Realisation
Hers was a lonely, shadowed lot;
Or so the unperceiving thought,
Who looked no deeper than her face,
Devoid of chiselled lines of grace –
No farther than her humble grate,
And wondered how she bore her fate.
Yet she was neither lone nor sad;
So much of love her spirit had,
She found an ever-flowing spring
Of happiness in everything.
So near to her was Nature’s heart
It seemed a very living part
Of her own self; and bud and blade,
And heat and cold, and sun and shade,
And dawn and sunset, Spring and Fall,
Held raptures for her, one and all.
The year’s four changing seasons brought
To her own door what thousands sought
In wandering ways and did not find –
Diversion and content of mind.
She loved the tasks that filled each day –
Such menial duties; but her way
Of looking at them lent a grace
To things the world deemed commonplace.
Obscure and without place or name,
She gloried in another’s fame.
Poor, plain and humble in her dress,
She thrilled when beauty and success
And wealth passed by, on pleasure bent;
They made earth seem so opulent.
Yet none of quicker sympathy,
When need or sorrow came, than she.
And so she lived, and so she died.
She woke as from a dream. How wide
And wonderful the avenue
That stretched to her astonished view!
And up the green ascending lawn
A palace caught the rays of dawn.
Then suddenly the silence stirred
With one clear keynote of a bird;
A thousand answered, till ere long
The air was quivering bits of song.
She rose and wandered forth in awe,
Amazed and moved by all she saw,
For, like so many souls who go
Away from earth, she did not know
The cord was severed.
Down the street,
With eager arms stretched forth to greet,
Came one she loved and mourned in youth;
Her mother followed; then the truth
Broke on her, golden wave on wave,
Of knowledge infinite. The grave,
The body and the earthly sphere
Were gone! Immortal life was here!
They led her through the Palace halls;
From gleaming mirrors on the walls
She saw herself, with radiant mien,
And robed in splendour like a queen,
While glory round about her shone.
‘All this, ’ Love murmured, ‘is your own.’
And when she gazed with wondering eye,
And questioned whence and where and why,
Love answered thus: ‘All Heaven is made
By thoughts on earth; your walls were laid,
Year after year, of purest gold;
The beauty of your mind behold
In this fair palace; ay, and more
Waits farther on, so vast your store.
I was not worthy when I died
To take my place here at your side;
I toiled through long and weary years
From lower planes to these high spheres;
And through the love you sent from earth
I have attained a second birth.
Oft when my erring soul would tire
I felt the strength of your desire;
I heard you breathe my name in prayer,
And courage conquered weak despair.
Ah! earth needs heaven, but heaven indeed
Of earth has just as great a need!
Across the terrace with a bound
There sped a lambkin with a hound
(Dumb comrades of the old earth land)
And fondled her caressing hand.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Spring's Promises
When the spring comes again, will you be there?
Three springs I watched and waited for your face,
And listened for your voice upon the air;
I sought for you in many a hidden place,
Saying, 'She must be there.'
'Surely some magic slumber holds her fast,
She whose blue eyes were morning's earliest flowers,'
I sighed: and, one by one, before me passed
The rainbowed daughters of the vernal showers,
Saying, 'She comes at last.'
Ah! broken promise of the world! how fair
You speak young hearts! In many a wanton word
Of lyric April, each succeeding year,
By risen flower, and the returning bird,
You vowed to bring back her.
And now the flutes are in the trees once more,
The violets breathe up through the melting snow,
Old Earth throws open wide her grassy door-
As if there were no violets long ago,
Or any birds before.
poem by Richard Le Gallienne
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Looking Into You
Well I looked into a house I once lived in
Around the time I first went on my own
When the roads were as many as the places I had dreamed of
And my friends and I were one
Now the distance is done and the search has begun
Ive come to see where my beginnings have gone
Oh the walls and the windows were still standing
And the music could be heard at the door
Where the people who kindly endured my odd questions
Asked if I came very far
And when my silence replied they took me inside
Where their children sat playing on the floor
Well we spoke of the changes that would find us farther on
And it left me so warm and so high
But as I stepped back outside to the grey morning sun
I heard that highway whisper and sigh
Are you ready to fly?
And I looked into the faces all passing by
Its an ocean that will never be filled
And the house that grows older and finally crumbles
That even love cannot rebuild
Its a hotel at best, youre here as a guest
You oughta make yourself at home while youre waiting for the rest
Well I looked into dream of the millions
That one day the search will be through
Now here I stand at the edge of my embattled illusions
Looking into you
The great song traveler passed through here
And he opened my eyes to the view
And I was among those who called him a prophet
And I asked him what was true
Until the distance had shown how the road remains alone
Now Im looking in my life for a truth that is my own
Well I looked into the sky for my anthem
And the words and the music came through
But words and music can never touch the beauty that Ive seen
Looking into you -- and thats true
song performed by by Jackson Browne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Eagle Watch
The morning came, the eagle stirred, one leap to fly again.
The tourists smiled to watch this bird, the envy of all men.
For who has not at one time slept and sometime in the night,
Believed that if they also leapt, they, too, could rise in flight?
Within one dream, atop a hill, I ran and ran and ran...
And all at once I felt the thrill when my first flight began!
I left the hill, I left the Earth, to glide upon the sky...
It was as if my soul gave birth to something that could fly!
No holding back, I had to hurl myself upon the wave!
Like Superman and Supergirl, I flew as if by faith!
I knew just how the eagle felt, designed for higher things...
A better hand I had been dealt, transforming hands to wings!
Each time I see an eagle soar to heights beyond my eyes,
I realise what dreams are for, to simply mesmerise.
Today, each pilot flies above, content to do his best...
Just like the eagle that I love... God help them to be blessed...
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Eagle Watch'.
poem by Denis Martindale
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The Quest
I sought Him on the purple seas,
I sought Him on the peaks aflame;
Amid the gloom of giant trees
And canyons lone I called His name;
The wasted ways of earth I trod:
In vain! In vain! I found not God.
I sought Him in the hives of men,
The cities grand, the hamlets gray,
The temples old beyond my ken,
The tabernacles of to-day;
All life that is, from cloud to clod
I sought. . . . Alas! I found not God.
Then after roamings far and wide,
In streets and seas and deserts wild,
I came to stand at last beside
The death-bed of my little child.
Lo! as I bent beneath the rod
I raised my eyes . . . and there was God.
poem by Robert William Service
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Aesop
HE sat among the woods; he heard
The sylvan merriment; he saw
The pranks of butterfly and bird,
The humors of the ape, the daw.
And in the lion or the frog,—
In all the life of moor and fen,—
In ass and peacock, stork and dog,
He read similitudes of men.
“Of these, from those,” he cried, “we come,
Our hearts, our brains descend from these.”
And, lo! the Beasts no more were dumb,
But answered out of brakes and trees:
“Not ours,” they cried; “Degenerate,
If ours at all,” they cried again,
“Ye fools, who war with God and Fate,
Who strive and toil; strange race of men.
“For we are neither bond nor free,
For we have neither slaves nor kings;
But near to Nature’s heart are we,
And conscious of her secret things.
“Content are we to fall asleep,
And well content to wake no more;
We do not laugh, we do not weep,
Nor look behind us and before:
“But were there cause for moan or mirth,
’T is we, not you, should sigh or scorn,
Oh, latest children of the Earth,
Most childish children Earth has born.”
They spoke, but that misshapen slave
Told never of the thing he heard,
And unto men their portraits gave,
In likenesses of beast and bird!
poem by Andrew Lang
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Given Hearts That We Might Love
Given hearts that we might love,
Until they're called above,
With those we leave behind...
Who keep our love in mind...
In time, when tears have passed,
We'll meet again, at last...
Our lives on Earth are short
And thus our thinking's caught,
Yet God reveals His Word
And faith inside is stirred,
Such that new hope is born,
No more to feel forlorn...
That's why faith lights our path
And teaches us to laugh
And with each prayer we pray,
Reach higher day-by-day...
Eternal life awaits
As we pass through God's Gates...
Think not it's meant for all,
For each must hear God's call
And in a moment rise,
To see through brand new eyes,
Then on God's promise stand,
As each one holds His hand...
The ones who've gone before,
Must surely know the score,
For in Heaven they abide,
With smiles so broad and wide,
Content to wait for those
Whose love still grows and grows...
Be patient, then, my friends,
For true love never ends,
It blossoms like it must
In those whose hearts still trust...
There's nothing more sublime,
Except we'll meet in time...
poem by Denis Martindale
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Is There Anyone Home
Is there anyone home in this house made of stone?
Anyone inside know my name
Ive been around for a half of a hundred days.
Never saw a door shut so tight
Turn around, dont look down
Theres a man behind you with a gun
Like any wandering child in the wilderness,
Wild and uncaged are your ways
I think I heard
Someone stirred
I think I heard
Someone stirred
Theres a light around you
Ive come to switch it on
It will brighten every room
Dont be ashamed if you feel a whole lot warmer in you heart.
You got that feelin in your soul
Is there anyone home in this house made of stone?
Anyone in there who might care
Ive grown weary and wise and I feel much amazed.
Got a few good tales to unwind
Turn around, dont look down
Theres a man behind you with a gun.
Like any wandering minstrel Ive dawned in the house of a thousand delights.
I think I heard
Someone stirred
I think I heard
Someone stirred
I think I heard
Someone stirred
I think I heard
Someone stirred
I think I heard
Someone stirred
I think I heard
Someone stirred
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Beautiful Bird
I once found a beautiful bird
Upon my ground all battered and hurt
And I mended its wing
And I taught it how to sing
As time passed on
My beautiful bird
There came a song
That I had never heard
Now it was a haunting melody
And she played it just for me
So don't let go
My beautiful bird
Don't say no
Until you have heard
What I have to say
That she don't find love everyday
Don't let go
My beautiful bird
Don't say no
Until you have heard
What I have to say
That you don't find love every day
I once found a beautiful bird
Upon my ground all battered and hurt
Now I mended its wing
And I taught it how to sing
So don't let go
My beautiful bird
Don't say no
Until you have heard
What I have to say
That she don't find love everyday
song performed by by Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Fairy's Quest (Verses For The Children).
As the Fairy Queen sat on her gossamer throne
That sparkled with pearls of dew,
She suddenly cried to a sprite at her side-
'A mission 1 have for you!
Go, search every country and continent,
Till you find the jewel men call Content.'
Away at her bidding the fairy sped,
In quest of the gem so rare;
In north and in south, in east and in west,
He sought for it everywhere
From the frozen realm of the great Ice-King,
To the Eastern groves where the bulbuls sing.
Long days, and weeks, and months went by,
And still his quest was vain.
He sought it in many a monarch's Court,
And in Beauty's glittering train ;
But neither in crown, nor in diadem,
Could he find a trace of the precious gem.
While resting one day by a peasant's cot,
There fell on the fairy's ear
The sound of laughter rippling sweet,
And of melody, joyous and clear,
Which rose, like the thrush's wood-notes wild,
From the young mother's lips, as she fondled her child.
''Tis surely here where Content must be!'
He cried, with a sudden start.
Then his fairy eyes pierced the inmost depths
Of that peasant mother's heart:
And found at last was the treasure rare,
For, lo! the jewel he sought was there !
poem by William Baron
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The Kingdom of Love
In the dawn of the day, when the sea and the earth
Reflected the sunrise above,
I set forth, with a heart full of courage and mirth,
To seek for the Kingdom of Love.
I asked of a Poet I met on the way,
Which cross-road would lead me aright,
And he said: "Follow me, and ere long you will see
Its glistening turrets of Light."
And soon in the distance a city shone fair;
"Look yonder," he said, "there it gleams!"
But alas! for the hopes that were doomed to despair,
It was only the Kingdom of Dreams.
Then the next man I asked was a gay cavalier,
And he said: "Follow me, follow me."
And with laughter and song we went speeding along
By the shores of life's beautiful sea,
Till we came to a valley more tropical far
Than the wonderful Vale of Cashmere,
And I saw from a bower a face like a flower
Smile out on the gay cavalier,
And he said: "We have come to humanity's goal---
Here love and delight are intense."
But alas! and alas! for the hope of my soul---
It was only the Kingdom of Sense.
As I journeyed more slowly, I met on the road
A coach with retainers behind,
And they said: "Follow us, for our lady's abode
Belongs in the realm you would find."
'Twas a grand dame of fashion, a newly-wed bride;
I followed, encouraged and bold.
But my hope died away, like the last gleams of day,
For we came to the Kingdom of Gold.
At the door of a cottage I asked a fair maid.
"I have heard of that Realm," she replied,
"But my feet never roam from the Kingdom of Home,
So I know not the way," and she sighed.
I looked on the cottage, how restful it seemed!
And the maid was as fair as a dove.
Great light glorified my soul as I cried,
"Why, home is the Kingdom of Love!"
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Kingdom of Love
In the dawn of the day when the sea and the earth
Reflected the sunrise above,
I set forth with a heart full of courage and mirth
To seek for the Kingdom of Love.
I asked of a Poet I met on the way
Which cross-road would lead me aright.
And he said: "Follow me, and not long you shall see
Its glittering turrets of light."
And soon in the distance a city shone fair,
"Look yonder," he said; "how it gleams!"
But alas! for the hopes that were doomed to despair,
It was only the "Kingdom of Dreams."
Then the next man I asked was a gay Cavalier,
And he said: "Follow me, follow me;"
And with laughter and song we went speeding along
By the shores of Life's beautiful sea.
Then we came to a valley more tropical far
Than the wonderful vale of Cashmere,
And I saw from a bower a face like a flower
Smile out on the gay Cavalier.
And he said: "We have come to humanity's goal:
Here love and delight are intense."
But alas and alas! for the hopes of my soul
It was only the "Kingdom of Sense."
As I journeyed more slowly I met on the road
A coach with retainers behind.
And they said: "Follow me, for our Lady's abode
Belongs in that realm, you will find."
'Twas a grand dame of fashion, a newly made bride,
I followed, encouraged and bold;
But my hopes died away like the last gleams of day,
For we came to the "Kingdom of Gold."
At the door of a cottage I asked a fair maid.
"I have heard of that realm," she replied;
"But my feet never roam from the "Kingdom of Home,"
So I know not the way," and she sighed.
I looked on the cottage; how restful it seemed!
And the maid was as fair as a dove.
Great light glorified my soul as I cried:
"Why home is the 'Kingdom of Love!'"
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Contentment
I could search the world wide over
and become a rover
but never would I find another you.
I could spend my time reflecting
with all my thoughts collecting
everything I've found with only you.
For you are so special
you make me believe.
You bring me inspiration
and help me perceive
that my life without you
could never be right
for all of my wishes
would fly right out of sight.
I could climb so much higher
and never would tire
of living my life with just you.
For you alone make me complete
and help me defeat
everything that's ever been wrong.
And so it is I'm content
with all that you've meant
and for the time I have spent
With you.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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