Impromptu: To Frances Garnet Wolseley
Little maiden just beginning
To be comely, arch, and winning,
In whose form I catch the traces
Of your mother's gifts and graces,
And around whose head the glory
Of your father's growing story,
O'er whose cradle, fortune-guided,
Mars and Venus both presided,
May your fuller years inherit
Female charm and manly merit,
So that all may know who girt you
With vivacity and virtue,
Whence you had the luck to borrow
Pensive mien without its sorrow,
Dignity devoid of coldness,
Sprightliness without its boldness,
Raillery untipped by malice,
Playful wit and kindly sallies,
Eloquence averse from railing,
Each good point without its failing.
And when, little bud, you flower
Into maidenhood and power,
Fate no fainter heart allot you
Than the brave one that begot you,
So that you a race continue
Worthy of the blood within you,
Handing down the gifts you bring them,
With a better bard to sing them.
poem by Alfred Austin
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Fortune's Statue
She's mistress of all:
Rule of this earth
To her is entrusted;
Fortune she's called.
But for her, Maia's son, whom
She grants gifts, be naught.
Man, living for gain,
Mars, fast to shed blood,
Stand both in her hand.
He fears her even
Whom Yenus enflames;
He praises her too,
Who lives by his toil,
In sweat and in thrift.
Kindly at her he'd look,
Who mocks her in word;
For wise deliberation,
Wishing, she'd turn to dispute.
Of a king, a pauper,
Of a slave, a king,
Should she will, she'd make.
She's heedless on whom
Her gifts she bestows,
In which no trust
Is she wont to keep.
So doth she sport!
Through inconstancy alone
She endures unchanging,
To wander hither and yon,
Ruling earth with no rules.
In this tho, she's less
Unto virtue persisting
Would she fast submit,
With it forever in strife.
poem by Mikolaj Sep Szarzynski
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Togetherness, Unity and Love
Father and Mother, I love you...
I've said it, yeah, OK.
That's right, I've said it, 'cos it's true.
Here's where I choose to stay.
This house is more than just a house,
'Cos love lives here each day,
Yes, I thank God this house is ours,
This home in which we pray...
Father and Mother, thanks so much,
I want to make you proud.
I know sometimes you'll never budge
In rules that you've allowed,
Yet even when you tell me off
And I stand here, head bowed...
I know our house is filled with love,
Of that there is no doubt...
Father and Mother, I thank you...
For both of you love me.
I've seen it in the things you do,
In all you choose to be.
The Christmas gifts, the Easter gifts
And birthday gifts so free.
No wonder that my spirit lifts
In all this love I see...
(September 2011)
poem by Denis Martindale
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Fortune Fish
Fortune fish from the sea,
Come and bring good luck to me.
I need some luck brought my way,
Swim through the currents to me today.
Fish of fate and destiny,
I ask you to hear my plea.
Fortune fish from the sea,
Come and bring good luck to me.
Fish of kismet please swim near,
I wish for positive karma here.
Fortune fish from the sea,
Come and bring good luck to me.
poem by Eileen Hardy
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Birthday Honours
My natal day was yesterday;
And so I said to Fate,
'What gifts bring you, by one, by two,
To ease my parlous state?'
'I proffer blindly,' Fate replied,
From chance-found joys and ills.
For you, the 'flu; and this beside,
A sheaf of monthly bills.'
My natal day was yesterday;
And so I said to Chance,
'What gifts bring you, by one, by two,
My fortunes to enhance?'
Said Chance, 'I bring no obvious thing.
Unguessed escape bring I
From dangers rife alway in life
That closely pass you by.'
My natal day was yesterday;
And so I said to Life,
'What gifts bring you, by one, by two,
To salve me in the strife?'
But Life said, 'Nought. Long since I brought
My gifts, glum misanthrope;
And these for you I here renew;
Myself and human hope.'
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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From Nothing at All
I can give nothing at all to you, yet daily Lord you see me through,
Supplying all I need and more, while asking nothing from me Lord.
Although I come to you with none, abundance I receive of the Son,
Christ bestows, quite abundantly, gifts and blessings down on me.
For all good gifts are from above, in the Father’s unchanging love,
Bestowed, upon all who believe; Blessings that we simply receive.
With these gifts bestowed on us, you Lord, take us into your trust,
That we use those gifts we receive, in helping all others to believe.
I come to you, without anything; you make me a child of The King,
His child through all of eternity, and all through the gift of Calvary,
Your Only Son, Jesus Christ, offered to all freely as our Sacrifice,
One special gift offered by Grace, to the entire, sinful human race,
Blessings we receive from you Lord, will continue on forevermore,
As the gift you offered at Calvary, is a New Life in Christ Eternally,
That begins on this earthly sod, to continue on with you dear God,
For by Grace you saved my soul, to make a sinner eternally whole.
This empty soul, you have filled, with heavenly gifts, as you willed,
For your Purpose and your Plan, to reach out to every single man.
For with each gift we play a part, in reaching for you a needy heart,
With the One Gift of Salvation, offered by The God of all Creation.
(Copyright ©09/2007)
Amoretti LXXIV: Most Happy Letters
Most happy letters, fram'd by skilful trade,
With which that happy name was first design'd:
The which three times thrice happy hath me made,
With gifts of body, fortune, and of mind.
The first my being to me gave by kind,
From mother's womb deriv'd by due descent,
The second is my sovereign Queen most kind,
That honour and large richesse to me lent.
The third my love, my life's last ornament,
By whom my spirit out of dust was raised:
To speak her praise and glory excellent,
Of all alive most worthy to be praised.
Ye three Elizabeths for ever live,
That three such graces did unto me give.
poem by Edmund Spenser
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To The Right Honourable The Earl Of Orrery In Dublin
Let Others speak your Titles, and your Blood;
Accept from Me the glorious Name of Good.
This Honour only from fair Virtue springs,
Ennobles Slaves, adds Dignity to Kings.
O Born to shew Nobility design'd
Not to insult, but to protect Mankind!
Well you discern to spare, or to bestow;
Nor waste in Riot, what to Worth you owe.
Judgment your Bounty guides; and all agree,
'Tis Praise, 'tis Glory, to receive from Thee.
Gen'rous thy Gifts; but more thy matchless Art,
To spare the Blush, and doubly bind the Heart.
Tho' Fortune place me in a distant Scene;
And Mountains rise, and Oceans roll between;
O'er Mountains, Oceans, Gratitude conveys
The good Man's Act, and wide extends his Praise.
Strange! that your Judgment errs in this alone;
Barber you bless, yet hope your Gifts unknown.
'Tis Hers to bring each lovely Deed to Light,
And force unwilling Virtue to the Sight:
'Tis Hers, and 'tis Her Muse's greatest Pride,
A Favour never to forget, or hide.
Illustrious Youth! and let me style you Friend,
O look with Candor on the Lines I send!
Warm from the Heart my artless Numbers fall;
Nor wait Correctness, when your Virtues call.
Here, bless'd with all that human Life requires,
Superior to vain Fears, or low Desires;
In chearful Solitude, in studious Ease;
Careful my Conscience, and my God, to please;
I think on Thee, when Want, or Worth, implore;
And unrepining share my little Store.
So Stars attend the beauteous Queen of Night;
And faintly shine, not emulate her Light.
poem by Mary Barber
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To Mother, Sweet Mother (on Mother's Day,2012)
Sweet mother,
We remember
Our stay together,
With dear father!
Can we ever
Forget your love and care?
We can never
Return your gifts, precious and rare!
Mother, you were a lady great;
Someone, no one on earth could hate;
A teacher, home-maker, top-rate;
You changed for better, our fate!
Your good nature, we can't equate;
Your roles in life, we can't under-state;
Your sacrifices, we can't enumerate;
Your example, we want to emulate.
We cannot thank you mother dear,
With words, gifts, savories, flower!
You put us on the road to God;
We pray you get the Lord's reward!
Today, you aren't alive
But, you were the queen-bee
Of our pleasant hive!
"Happy Mother's Day,2012! " dear mom,
(Late) Mrs. Stella Antoniswami, Old Chungam, Coimbatore
By loving dad (Late) and all children
Copyright by Dr John Celes 7-5-'12
poem by John Celes
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The Gifts of Life and Pollution
Nature's gifts are sunny beaches,
Nature's gifts are rocky mountains,
Nature's gifts are vast oceans,
Nature's gifts are the tranquil colors in the rainbow,
Nature's gifts are rain forests,
Nature's gift is life.
Our gifts are oceans filled with toxins,
Our gifts are global warming,
Our gifts are deserted forests,
Our gifts are killed animals,
Our gifts are serious diseases,
Our gift is pollution.
poem by Melanie Jackson
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You Will Always Be My Father
I dearly loved my Father,
Till I was about twelve years old,
Then he started to go astray,
An affair is what I was told.
I fought with my Mother and Brothers,
They said he was just a rat
He was my reason for living,
My Dad could not do that.
At first he disappeared for days,
I didn't know where or when,
He could have been alive or dead,
But then he'd appear again.
There was never an explanation,
He should have given me that at least,
Then he'd show from out of the blue,
With his gifts from the mystic east.
You left my mum to struggle on,
With five of us in tow,
You let your heart rule your head,
You just didn't want to know.
I never believed you could have an affair,
I kept that in my head,
Until that fateful day I was shown,
You lying in anothers bed.
I never spoke to you for seven years,
That's when fate stepped in,
When I met you in the street one day,
I still felt the love within.
I bonded with you once again,
I unloaded my long held grudge,
Who am I to lecture you,
The Good Lord would be your judge.
You then met your younger siblings,
Whom you had barely known,
It gave you one last chance in life,
To see how they had grown.
You threw away a life of bliss,
But I don't believe you were bad,
To throw away your Wife and Sons,
You had to be bloody mad.
I was with you on the Thursday,
You just wanted to go to bed,
When I went to meet you on Friday,
I was informed that you were dead.
I will be eternally grateful,
For having you back in my life,
Life is really far too short,
To continue a lifelong strife.
So may you rest in peace Dad,
Though it's thirty two years on,
It seems like only yesterday,
I was told that you had gone.
Your wayward ways affected us all,
They had us in a lather,
But regardless of your betrayal,
‘' You Will Always Be My Father ‘'
Of the Death of Sir T.W. the Elder
Wyatt resteth here, that quick could never rest;
Whose heavenly gifts increased by disdain,
And virtue sank the deeper in his breast;
Such profit he by envy could obtain.
A head where wisdom mysteries did frame,
Whose hammers beat still in that lively brain
As on a stithy where that some work of fame
Was daily wrought, to turn to Britain's gain.
A visage stern and mild, where both did grow,
Vice to contemn, in virtue to rejoice;
Amid great storms, whom grace assured so
To live upright and smile at fortune's choice.
A hand that taught what might be said in rhyme;
That reft Chaucer the glory of his wit:
A mark, the which (unparfited, for time)
Some may approach, but never none shall hit.
A tongue that served in foreign realms his king;
Whose courteous talk to virtue did enflame
Each noble heart; a worthy guide to bring
Our English youth by travail unto fame.
An eye whose judgment none affect could blind,
Friends to allure, and foes to reconcile;
Whose piercing look did represent a mind
With virtue fraught, reposed, void of guile.
A heart where dread was never so impress'd,
To hide the thought that might the truth advance;
In neither fortune loft, nor yet repress'd,
To swell in wealth, or yield unto mischance.
A valiant corps, where force and beauty met;
Happy, alas, too happy, but for foes!
Lived, and ran the race, that Nature set:
Of manhood's shape, where she the mould did lose.
But to the heavens that simple soul is fled,
Which left with such as covet Christ to know
Witness of faith that never shall be dead,
Sent for our health, but not received so.
Thus, for our guilt, this jewel have we lost;
The earth his bones, the heavens possess his ghost.
poem by Henry Howard
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Poem 6
My loue is now awake out of her dreame,
and her fayre eyes like stars that dimmed were
With darksome cloud, now shew theyr goodly beams
More bright then Hesperus his head doth rere.
Come now ye damzels, daughters of delight,
Helpe quickly her to dight,
But first come ye fayre houres which were begot
In loues sweet paradice, of Day and Night,
Which doe the seasons of the yeare allot,
And al that euer in this world is fayre
Doe make and still repayre.
And ye three handmayds of the Cyprian Queene,
The which doe still adorne her beauties pride,
Helpe to addorne my beautifullest bride
And as ye her array, still throw betweene
Some graces to be seene,
And as ye vse to Venus, to her sing,
The whiles the woods shal answer & your eccho ring
poem by Edmund Spenser
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Natural Gift
See that girl walkin down the street
She looks like a prima donna
Shes a star in her head and the worlds at her feet
She looks at you twice and your heart skips a beat
She didnt learn it at high school or from a glossy magazine
You see shes a natural, she gotta natural gift
You gotta rise above your stupidity
Youre dumb but dont give in
You gotta rise above your station
Discover whats within
And with some luck and dedication and some careful manipulation
Everybody needs some inspiration
Everybody needs some motivation
Mix it up with some imagination
And use your natural gifts, you gotta natural gift
You got natural gifts
Ah, hey, hey, hey, ah, hey, hey
And use your natural gifts, you got natural gifts
You dont have to be a genius to find
All the hidden potential deep in your mind
You dont have to know about nuclear physics
Know all the formulas and vital statistics
You dont have to be an intellectual, you dont have to be a scientist
To use your natural gifts, you got natural gifts, yeh
Use your natural gifts, you got natural gifts
You gotta stop this depression youre in now
Stop this emotional rift, you need a psychological lift now
Everybody needs some inspiration, everybody needs some motivation
Mix it up with some imagination and use your natural gifts
There are bad people, mad people, bitter people, scared people
Wanna put you down and keep you in your place
But you gotta chance to break out, you gotta chance to get out
And use your natural gifts
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ashes To Ashes
Well, you could walk like a stranger head back into here
Bringing gifts while you act so sincere
Bringing gifts for a boy whos five years
Looking for rocks and training wheels
I dont remember you from any of those books
Ashes to ashes and six feet under, face down in a box
Where did you ever learn to treat me like that
You dont seem to have any of that family stuff
You know the hardwood floors and all that penniless rough
Your bad luck follows you like a heart attack
Twist your fingers, soon as break your back
I dont remember you from any of those books
Ashes to ashes and six feet under, face down in a box
Where did you ever learn to treat me like that that that
Its coming from another with a mother whos just like yours
Givin you headaches and all those mental scores
Give a little, have a little, take some for yourself
Like the needy and the greedy always seem by themselves
Well, you must be, have to be one of these
Hidin in the shade under your family tree
Think I met you once in a liquor store
No think I saw you hanging by the stage door
Handing out programs to the family theater
Devised a role so you dont mistreat her
Take it wild, take it fast
You never gave yourself a chance
I dont remember you from any of those books
Ashes to ashes and six feet under, face down in a box
Where did you ever learn to treat me like that, that, that, that
song performed by by Wallflowers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One's Self I Sing
ONE'S-SELF I sing--a simple, separate Person;
Yet utter the word Democratic, the word En-masse.
Of Physiology from top to toe I sing;
Not physiognomy alone, nor brain alone, is worthy for the muse--I say
the Form complete is worthier far;
The Female equally with the male I sing.
Of Life immense in passion, pulse, and power,
Cheerful--for freest action form'd, under the laws divine,
The Modern Man I sing.
poem by Walt Whitman
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Good Luck Charm
(words & music by aaron schroeder - wally gold)
Dont want a four leaf clover
Dont want an old horse shoe
Want your kiss cause I just cant miss
With a good luck charm like you
Come on and be my little good luck charm
Uh-huh huh, you sweet delight
I want a good luck charm
A-hanging on my arm
To have, to have, to hold, to hold tonight
Dont want a silver dollar
Rabbits foot on a string
The happiness in your warm caress
No rabbits foot can bring
Come on and be my little good luck charm
Uh-huh huh, you sweet delight
I want a good luck charm
A-hanging on my arm
To have, to have, to hold, to hold tonight
If I found a lucky penny
Id toss it across the bay
Your love is worth all the gold on earth
No wonder that I say
Come on and be my little good luck charm
Uh-huh huh, you sweet delight
I want a good luck charm
A-hanging on my arm
To have, to have, to hold, to hold tonight
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Thank You Mother-god
Thank You Mother-God for caring for us in our need
For the health and healing that we need
Thank You Mother-God for Your for Your gifts we know not of
For Your loving helpfulness from above
Thank You Mother-God for being One with Father-God at the time of creation
Creating all creation with perfection
Being Children of God, we should be Gods
Because You Both created us to be like Gods
Thank You Mother-God for helping Father-God in giving all our gifts
So thar between us, as Children of God, there will be no rifts
April 30,2006, Clarence A. Graham, Jr.
poem by Jr. Clarence A. Graham
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Growing Old Is Failing At More And More Small Things
GROWING OLD IS FAILING AT MORE AND MORE SMALL THINGS
Growing old is failing at more and more small things
It is losing power after power.
Diminished
And growing less and less
Down and down
An old man tries to sing
But even his voice is no more than
A cracked- filled silence.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I did not want to write a story about the invasion of Earth, so I had to create a race capable of living nearby, which meant to either on the Moon, on Mars, or on Venus. I picked Venus.
quote by Sarah Zettel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ode To The Poppy
Written by a deceased friend.
NOT for the promise of the labour'd field,
Not for the good the yellow harvests yield,
I bend at Ceres' shrine;
For dull, to human eyes, appear
The golden glories of the year,
Alas!--a melancholy worship's mine,
I hail the goddess for her scarlet flower;
Thou brilliant weed,
That dost so far exceed
The richest gifts gay Flora can bestow:
Heedless I pass'd thee, in life's morning hour,
(Thou comforter of woe)
Till sorrow taught me to confess thy power.
In early days, when Fancy cheats,
A varied wreath I wove,
Of laughing Spring's luxuriant sweets,
To deck ungrateful Love:
The rose, or thorn, my labours crown'd;
As Venus smiled, or Venus frown'd;
But Love and Joy, and all their train, are flown;
E'en languid Hope no more is mine,
And I will sing of thee alone,
Unless, perchance, the attributes of Grief,
The cypress bud, and willow leaf,
Their pale funereal foliage blend with thine.
Hail, lovely blossom!--thou canst ease
The wretched victims of Disease;
Canst close those weary eyes in gentle sleep,
Which never open but to weep;
For, oh! thy potent charm
Can agonizing Pain disarm;
Expel imperious Memory from her seat,
And bid the throbbing heart forget to beat.
Soul-soothing plant! that can such blessings give,
By thee the mourner bears to live!
By thee the hopeless die!
Oh! ever 'friendly to despair,'
Might Sorrow's pallid votary dare,
Without a crime, that remedy implore,
Which bids the spirit from its bondage fly,
I'd court thy palliative aid no more;
No more I'd sue that thou shouldst spread,
Thy spell around my aching head,
But would conjure thee to impart
Thy balsam for a broken heart;
And by thy soft Lethean power,
( Inestimable flower)
Burst these terrestrial bonds, and other regions try.
poem by Charlotte Smith
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