En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Pax Britannica

Behind her rolling ramparts England lay,
Impregnable, and girt by cliff-built towers,
Weaving to peace and plenty, day by day,
The long-drawn hours.

In peace Spring freed her flocks and showered her grain,
Summer sate smiling under peaceful leaves,
And Autumn piled on the unwarlike wain
Her sickled sheaves.

And white-winged keels flew fluttering to her shore,
Laden with Eastern bale or Southern fleece,
And from the fields of far-off labour bore
The spoils of Peace.

Then, seeing Her within her waves so blest,
The jealous nations, panoplied alike,
Said, ``Look, She wears no armour on her breast:
What if we strike?''

But She, of their base greed and armed array
Haughtily heedless, moated by her main,
Still across ocean ploughed her peaceful way
In strong disdain.

Then each to other muttered, ``Now at last
Her splendour shall be ours, and we shall slake
Our envy. She is pillowed on her Past,
And will not wake.''

Slowly as stirs a lion from his bed,
Lengthens his limbs, and crisps his mane, She rose,
Then shook out all her strength, and, flashing, said,
``Where are my foes?''

Thus to herself She did herself reveal,
Swiftly yet calmly put her armour on,
And, round her Empire sentinelled in steel,
Like morning shone!

From field and forge there thronged embattled hosts,
And that one struck the anvil, this the lyre,
And from the furnaces of war her coasts
Were fringed with fire.

Dazed and dismayed, they veiled their futile vow;
Some fain would be her friend, and some would nurse
Their hate till they could curb the might that now
They could but curse.

But they who watch from where the west wind blows,
Since great themselves, proud that their kith are great,
Said, ``See what comes when England with her foes
Speaks at the gate!''

Then back to loom and share her people poured,
Chanting peace-paeans as they reaped and gleaned,
While, gazing worldward, on her undrawn sword
Watchful She leaned.

poem by Alfred Austin
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If Peace Should Be Peaceful

Someone, whose name I remember not,
Held in high esteem by friend and foe alike,
Said, ' There is no good war, neither bad peace.'
How true! How obvious! It seemed
at first glance.
But then, peace also is not peaceful at times.
Peace! Peace! Peace!
All peoples, of all ages
All creatures of all orders
And philosophers throughout the ages,
Sang, extolled, and praised and sought it;
It was preached from church altars,
It was taught from podiums in halls of world gatherings.
But peace has not always been peaceful.
Peace, much desired, much sought after, as it is;
Is abhorred, derided and avoided just as much.
For peace also needs to be peaceful.
And for peace to be so peaceful we need to build on peace.
If peace should be peaceful, it must needs be peaceful.
And this- possible only when people are at peace with themselves-;
Because, as it were, one cannot give what he hath not.
('nemo dat quod non habet') .

poem by Isaias Yemane
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Sonnets of the Empire: Australia 1905

Careless she lies along the Southern Main,
The lovely maiden, wanton with the spell
Of sun and vastness and the ocean swell:
Northward the great gnomes watch her beauty, fain
To snatch her wealth of gold and fleece and grain,
And bend her being to their purpose fell:
But she lies lazy, and the passing bell
Of older glory stirs her sense in vain.

Nor shall she wake and know her danger near
Till some high heart and true, her fated lord,
Shall kiss her lips, and all her will control,
And fill her wayward heart with holy fear,
And cross her forehead with his iron sword,
And bring her strength, and armour, and a soul.

poem by Archibald Thomas Strong
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Peacefully Delight In Peace

Peacefully delight in peace

Peace be peacefully in peace,
Peacefully to peaceful
Peace seekers on peaceful
Peace missions, who in peaceful peace,
Peacefully ended up peace in peace
Peacefully,

Peacefully, peaceful Peace peacefully in peace is like a peacefully peaceful
Peace piece pinned at a peaceful
Peacefully pitch in Peace, Peered in Peace
Peacefully by every peacefully
Peaceful eye in the name of peace,
Peaceful Peace peacefully in peace peaceful is passed peacefully in Peace, peaceful from peacefully
Peaceful peace believers in peace peacefully to peaceful peace
Peaceful peace seekers,

Peacefully
Peace in peace be peacefully to peaceful
Peace believers of peace who in Peace peacefully peaceful delight in peaceful
Peace.
Peacefully in peaceful peace peacefully delight in peaceful peace peacefully for peace in peace.

poem by Iyamuremye Wilfred
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If They Dare!

Realm of ocean-guarded Peace,
Humming loom and grazing steer,
Farm, and forge, and woven fleece,
Happier, homelier, year by year,
Hark! athwart the wintry air,
Menace mutters, foemen glare:
Leave the shuttle, leave the share,
For the spear!

Envious of her world-wide race,
Goaded by the greed and hate
Of the hungry and the base
For the opulent and great,
``See,'' they whisper, ``did we band
All against Her, hand-in-hand,
We might bring that haughty Land
Face with Fate.''

Plotters insolent and vain,
Muster then your servile swarms.
Moated by the unbridged main,
We but laugh at such alarms.
Blinded braggarts, to forget
England old is England yet,
And can meet, as once She met,
World in arms.

Come athwart the ocean's crest,
Mob and Monarch, crowd and Crown!
Slavish East, or shrilling West,
Come, and strike at her renown.
Madmen! by your threats inane
What is it ye hope to gain?
Think of France, think of Spain,
Smitten down!

Derelict on wind and wave,
Tossing with the tossing tide,
Crushed by ice-floe, tombed in cave,
See the Armada's pomp and pride:
Prince and Pontiff, Rome and Spain,
Leagued against Her, leagued in vain;
England and her mother-main
Side by side.

Think of that self-sceptered King,
Caesar not by birth but brain,
Who with arbitrary wing
Hovered over hill and plain:
Headlong from that haughty height
Forced to sue to England's might,
And accept, for eagle's flight,
Cage and chain!

Still they cry, ``She is alone,
And must truckle to our nod.''
What! with half the world her own!
What! still wielding Neptune's rod!
She is lonely as the breeze,
Lonely as the stars or seas,
Lone, unreachable as these,
Lone as God!

Let the bandits then deride
Loneliness they shall not share.
We are lonely, unallied,
As the lion in his lair.
Doubters, dastards, now be dumb:
Sound the clarion! Roll the drum!
Let them menace, let them come,
If they dare!

poem by Alfred Austin
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The Old Land And The Young Land

The Young Land said, ``I have borne it long,
But can suffer it now no more;
I must end this endless inhuman wrong
Within hail of my own free shore.
So fling out the war-flag's folds, and let the righteous cannons roar!''

'Twas a quick, rash word, for the strong Young Land
Is a Land whose ways are peace;
It weareth no mail, and its keels are manned
With cotton, and corn, and fleece,
While lands there are that live cased in steel, and whose war-hammers never cease.

And these, when they saw the Young Land gird
Its loins to redress the wrong,
Whispered one to the other, ``Its heart is stirred,
But its hosts are an undrilled throng,
And its bolts yet to forge, so quick let us strike before that it grows too strong.''

And they said to the Old Land, ``Surely you
Will help us to foil its claim?
It waxeth in strength, as striplings do,
And it girds at its parent's name.
Take heed lest its overweening growth overshadow your fading fame.''

Then the Old Land said, ``Youth is strong and quick,
And Wisdom is strong but mild;
And blood than water is yet more thick,
And this Young Land is my child.
I am proud, not jealous, to watch it grow.''
Thus the Old Land spake and smiled.

``And look you,'' it said, ``at the strong Young Land
Strike for Freedom and Freedom's growth;
Which makes 'twixt us twain, though unsigned by hand,
A bond strong as lovers' troth.
So 'ware what you do, for, if you strike, you will strike not one, but both.''

Then they fretted and chafed; for, though shod in steel,
Their war-tread stops at the shore,
While the Old Land's breath is the breath of the gale,
And its music the wave-wind's roar.
Then they hated the Young Land's youth and strength, but they hated the Old Land more.

Now the Old Land, in turn, for Freedom's Cause
Speeds her sons to the Southern zone,
They snarl, ``Let us clip the Lion's claws,
The Lion that stands alone;
And harry her lair, and spear her cubs, and sit on the Lion's throne.''

And the Young Land laughs: ``With her foamsteeds fleet,
I guess she's a match for you all.
She hath saddled the sea, and more firm her seat
Than yours, that would ride for a fall,
If you put all your fighting force afield, and charged at her watery wall.

``But if ever, hemmed in by a world of foes,
Her sinews were sorely tried,
By the self-same blood in our veins that flows,
You would find me at her side,
So long as she strikes for the Cause for which her sons and my sons have died.''

And thus let it be until wrong shall end,
This bond strong as lovers' troth,
'Twixt Old Land and Young Land, to defend
Man's freedom and freedom's growth,
So if any should band against either now, they must meet, not one, but both!

poem by Alfred Austin
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The Anvil

England's on the anvil--hear the hammers ring--
Clanging from the Severn to the Tyne!
Never was a blacksmith like our Norman King--
England's being hammered, hammered, hammered into line!

England's on the anvil! Heavy are the blows!
(But the work will be a marvel when it's done.)
Little bits of Kingdoms cannot stand against their foes.
England's being hammered hammered, hammered into one!

There shall be one people--it shall serve one Lord--
(Neither Prist nor Baron shall escape!)
It shall have one speech and law, soul and strength and sword.
England's being hammered, hammered, hammered into
shape!

poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Look Seaward, Sentinel!

I
Look seaward, Sentinel, and tell the land
What you behold.

Sentinel
I see the deep-ploughed furrows of the main
Bristling with harvest; funnel, and keel, and shroud,
Heaving and hurrying hither through gale and cloud,
Winged by their burdens; argosies of grain,
Flocks of strange breed and herds of southern strain,
Fantastic stuffs and fruits of tropic bloom,
Antarctic fleece and equatorial spice,
Cargoes of cotton, and flax, and silk, and rice,
Food for the hearth and staples for the loom:
Huge vats of sugar, casks of wine and oil,
Summoned from every sea to one sole shore
By Empire's sceptre; the converging store
Of Trade's pacific universal spoil.
And heaving and hurrying hitherward to bring
Tribute from every zone, they lift their voices,
And, as a strong man revels and rejoices,
They loudly and lustily chant, and this the song they sing.

Chorus of Home-coming Ships
From the uttermost bound
Of the wind and the foam,
From creek and from sound,
We are hastening home.
We are laden with treasure
From ransacked seas,
To charm your leisure,
To grace your ease.
We have trodden the billows,
And tracked the ford,
To soften your pillows,
To heap your board.
The hills have been shattered,
The forests scattered,
Our white sails tattered,
To swell your hoard.
Is it blossom, or fruit, or
Seed, you crave?
The land is your suitor,
The sea your slave.
We have raced with the swallows,
And threaded the floes
Where the walrus wallows
Mid melting snows;
Sought regions torrid,
And realms of sleet,
To gem your forehead,
To swathe your feet.
And behold, now we tender,
With pennons unfurled,
For your comfort and splendour,
The wealth of the world.

II
Look landward, Sentinel, and tell the sea
What you behold.

Sentinel
I see a land of liberty and peace,
Ancient in glory and strength, but young in mien,
Like immemorial forest Spring makes green,
And whose boughs broaden as the years increase:
Where ruminating hide and grazing fleece
Dapple lush meadows diapered with flowers,
Lambs bleat, birds carol, rosy children roam,
The glad hind whistles as he wendeth home,
And red roofs nestle under gray church-towers:
Whose sons have in their fearless eyes the light
Of centuries of fame and battles won
And Empire ranging roundward with the sun;
Whose fair frank daughters gleam upon the sight
Fresh as the dawn and florid as the Spring;
And, as from lowly porch and lordly dwelling
They sally forth and meet, with voices swelling
Harmoniously they chant, and this the song they sing.

Chorus of Islanders
Blest be the cliffs and the crags that girdle
Our island home,
And blest, thrice blest, the tempests that scourge and curdle
The sea into foam.
For the nations over the wave eat, sleep, and labour,
In doubt and dread;
The spear is the child at their threshold, the naked sabre
The bride by their bed.
But we behind bulwarks of brine and rampart of breakers,
Year after year,
Drop the seed in the drill and the furrow, and harvest our acres,
And feel no fear.
While they wattle their flocks, and remember the past, and shudder,
And finger the sword,
Our lambs go safe to the ewes, our calves to the udder,
Our fruits to the board.
Welcome the sleet that blinds and the blasts that buffet,
And welcome the roar
Of the storms that swoop on the sea and rend and rough it
Around our shore.
For in safety the yearling fattens, the heifer browses,
The herds increase;
In safety we fondle our babes, in safety our spouses,
In safety, freedom, and peace.

III
Look again seaward, but beyond the sea,
And say what you behold.

Sentinel
I see weeping and wailing, and the bridegroom ruthlessly torn
From the clinging arms of the bride, and I see and I hear
Clanking of steel and clarions clamouring clear,
And suckling mothers, wedded but forlorn,
Cradling their babes amid the half-cut corn;
Whose fathers, as the homely days grew ripe
When fruits are plucked and mellow harvest stored,
Felt the soft curving sickle from their gripe
Timelessly wrenched, and in its place a sword.
And I see the nations, like to restless waves,
Surging against each other, withal afraid
To close and clash, lest blade prove strong as blade,
And even the victor win but worthless graves.
And, wearying of the days and nights that bring
No respite nor reward, they moan and murmur
Under their breath, until with accents firmer
They sadly and surlily chant, and this the song they sing.

Chorus of Armed Nations
How long shall we, we only, bear the burden
And sweat beneath the strain
Of iron Peace, while others gain the guerdon,
And prosper on our pain?
Lo! in their fancied fortress girt with waters
That neither fall nor fail,
They hear of rapine and they read of slaughters,
As of some touching tale.
No more they care to subjugate the billow,
Or dominate the blast;
Supine they lie on the luxurious pillow
Of their resplendent Past.
Lulled into arrogant languor by the glories
Of their adventurous sires,
They tell each other old heroic stories
By comfortable fires.
Why should they pile up wealth who do not labour?
Why, sowing not, should reap?
Let us steal out, and with unslumbering sabre
Assassinate their sleep.

IV

Look again landward, Sentinel, and say
What there you now behold.

Sentinel
I see the sports deserted on the green,
And song and revel hushed within the hall;
And I hear strong voices to strong voices call
To muster round the shore in martial sheen.
And north of Trent and south of Thames are seen
Furnace and forge and factory vomiting fire,
While swarthy faces, labouring through the night,
On giant anvils giant hammers smite,
From molten metal moulding hoop and tire.
In port and arsenal rhythmic thunders ring,
And through their gateways laden tumbrils rattle;
And England's sinewy striplings, trim for battle,
In unison cheer and chant, and this the song they sing.

Chorus of Islanders
Sweet are the ways of peace, and sweet
The gales that fan the foam
That sports with silvery-twinkling feet
Around our island home.
But, should the winds of battle shrill,
And the billows crisp their mane,
Down to the shore, from vale, from hill,
From hamlet, town, and plain!
The ocean our forefathers trod
In many a forest keel,
Shall feel our feet once more, but shod
With ligaments of steel.
Ours is the Sea, to rule, to keep,
Our realm, and, if ye would
Challenge dominion of the deep,
Then make that challenge good.
But ware ye lest your vauntings proud
Be coffined in the surge,
Our breakers be for you a shroud,
Our battle-song your dirge.
Peaceful within our peaceful home
We ply the loom and share,
Peaceful above the peaceful foam
Our pennons float and fare;
Bearing, for other peaceful lands,
Through sunshine, storm, and snow,
The harvest of industrious hands
Peacefully to and fro.
But, so ye will it, then our sails
The blasts of war shall swell,
And hold and hulk, now choked with bales,
Be crammed with shot and shell.
The waves impregnably shall bear
Our bulwarks on their breast,
And eyes of steel unsleeping glare
Across each billowy crest;
Along the trenches of the deep
Unflinching faces shine,
And Britain's stalwart sailors keep
The bastions of the brine.
Ocean itself, from strand to strand,
Our citadel shall be,
And, though the world together band,
Not all the legions of the land
Shall ever wrest from England's hand
The Sceptre of the Sea.

poem by Alfred Austin
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England

ENGLAND, England, England,
Girdled by ocean and skies,
And the power of a world, and the heart of a race,
And a hope that never dies.

England, England, England,
Wherever a true heart beats,
Wherever the rivers of commerce flow,
Wherever the bugles of conquest blow,
Wherever the glories of liberty grow,
'Tis the name that the world repeats.

And ye, who dwell in the shadow
Of the century-sculptured piles,
Where sleep our century-honoured dead,
Whilst the great world thunders overhead,
And far out, miles on miles,
Beyond the smoke of the mighty town,
The blue Thames dimples and smiles;
Not yours alone the glory of old,
Of the splendid thousand years,
Of Britain's might and Britain's right
And the brunt of British spears.
Not yours alone, for the great world round,
Ready to dare and do,
Scot and Celt and Norman and Dane,
With the Northman's sinew and heart and brain,
And the Northman's courage for blessing or bane,
Are England's heroes too.

North and south and east and west,
Wherever their triumphs be,
Their glory goes home to the ocean-girt isle,
Where the heather blooms and the roses smile,
With the green isle under her lee.
And if ever the smoke of an alien gun
Should threaten her iron repose,
Shoulder to shoulder against the world,
Face to face with her foes,

Scot, and Celt and Saxon are one
Where the glory of England goes.

And we of the newer and vaster West,
Where the great war-banners are furled,
And commerce hurries her teeming hosts,
And the cannon are silent along our coasts,
Saxon and Gaul, Canadians claim
A part in the glory and pride and aim
Of the Empire that girdles the world.

England, England, England,
Wherever the daring heart
By Arctic floe or torrid strand
Thy heroes play their part;
For as long as conquest holds the earth,
Or commerce sweeps the sea,
By orient jungle or western plain
Will the Saxon spirit be:
And whatever the people that dwell beneath,
Or whatever the alien tongue,
Over the freedom and peace of the world
Is the flag of England flung,
Till the last great freedom is found,
And the last great truth be taught,
Till the last great deed be done,
And the last great battle is fought;
Till the last great fighter is slain in the last great fight,
And the war-wolf is dead in his den–
England, breeder of hope and valour and might,
Iron mother of men.

Yea, England, England, England,
Till honour and valour are dead,
Till the world's great cannons rust,
Till the world's great hopes are dust,
Till faith and freedom be fled,
Till wisdom and justice have passed
To sleep with those who sleep in the many-chambered vast,
Till glory and knowledge are charnelled dust in dust,
To all that is best in the world's unrest,

In heart and mind you are wed.
While out from the Indian jungle
To the far Canadian snows,
Over the East and over the West,
Over the worst and over the best,
The flag of the world to its winds unfurled,
The blood-red ensign blows.

poem by William Wilfred Campbell
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A Song For Peace And Honour

TO THE QUEEN

LADY and Queen, for whom our laurels twine,
Upon whose head the glories of our land
In one immortal diadem are met,
Embodied England, in whose woman-hand
The sceptre of Imperial sway is set,
Receive this song of mine!
For you are England, and her bays grow green
To deck your brow, your goodness lends her grace,
And in our hearts your face is as Her face;
The Mother-Country is the Mother-Queen.

We, men of England, children of her might,
With all our Mother's record-roll of glory,
Great with her greatness, noble by her name,
Drank with our mothers' milk our Mother's story,
And in our veins the splendour of her fame
Made strong our blood and bright;
And to her absent sons her name has been
Familiar music heard in distant lands,
Heart of our heart and sinews of our hands,
England, our Mother, our Mistress and our Queen!

Out of the thunderous echoes of the past
Through the gold-dust of centuries we hear
Her voice, 'O children of a royal line,
Sons of her heart, whom England holdeth dear,
Mine was the Past--make ye the future mine
All glorious to the last!'
And, as we hear her, cowards grow to men,
And men to heroes, and the voice of fear
Is as a whisper in a deaf man's ear,
And the dead past is quick in us again.

Her robe is woven of glory and renown,
Hers are the golden-laden Argosies,
And lordship of the wild and watery ways,
Her flag is blown across the utmost seas:
Dead nations built her throne, and kingdoms blaze
For jewels in her crown.
Her Empire like a girdle doth enfold
The world; her feet upon her foes are set;
She wears the steel-wrought, blood-bright amulet
Won by her children in the days of old.

Yet in a treasury of such gems as these
Which power and sovereignty and kingship fill
To the vast limit of the circling sun,
England, our Mother, in her heart holds still,
As her most precious jewel, save only one,
The priceless pearl of peace--
Peace plucked from out the very heart of war
Through the long agony of strenuous years,
Made pure by blood and sanctified by tears,
A pearl to lie where England's treasures are.

O peaceful English lanes all white with may,
O English meadows where the grass grows tall,
O red-roofed village, field and farm and fold
Where the long shadows of the elm-trees fall
On the wide pastures which the sun calls gold
And twilit dew calls gray;--
These are the home, the happy cradle-place
Of every man who has our English tongue,
Sprung from those loins from which our sires have sprung,
Heirs of the glory of our mighty race!

Brothers, we hold the pearl of priceless worth:
Shall Peace, our pearl, by us be cast aside?
Is it not more to us than all things are?
Nay, Peace is precious as the world is wide,
But England's honour is more precious far
Than all the heavens and earth.
Were honour outcast from her supreme place
Our pearl of Peace no more a pearl would shine,
But, trampled under-foot of cowards and swine,
Rot in the mire of a deserved disgrace.

Know then, O ye our brothers over sea,
We will not cast our pearl of Peace away,
But, holding it, we wait; and if, at last,
The whole world came against us in array,
If all our glory into darkness passed,
Our Empire ceased to be,
Yet should we still have chosen the better part
Though in the dust our kingdoms were cast down,
Though lost were every jewel in our crown
We still should wear our jewel in our heart.

So, for our Mother's honour, if it must
Let Peace be lost, but lost the worthier way;
Not trampled down, but given, for her sake
Who forged of many an iron yesterday
The golden song that gold-tongued fame shall wake
When we are dust, in dust:
For brotherhood and strife and praise and blame
And all the world, even to our very land,
Weighed in the balance, are as a grain of sand
Against the honour of our English name!

poem by Edith Nesbit
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Peace Everywhere

Peace, everywhere, peace today!
Peace in lands of scruffy trees and pine,
Peace in lands of olives and wine,
Peace in lands where peaks are white,
Peace in lands where fields are bright.
Peace in lands of oasis and sand,
Peace in lands where people band,
Peace in lands where children play,
Peace in lands where people pray,
Peace in lands in the thick of the fight,
Peace in lands ruled by force and might.

Everywhere, everywhere, peace this day!
Pray that all world leaders lead the way,
Encouraging moral people to stand proud and tall,
No government too great, no nation too small.

poem by Joseph T. Renaldi
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When Will There be Peace?

So when will we have peace?
When will we have every street filled with peace?
When will all countries decrease war and increase peace?
We need peaceful minds for peaceful times
When will we have peace?
People think we have peace now..
...........................MORONS!
Theres is no real peace.

poem by Mark Bauch
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A peace of mind...

When I wake up from my bed in the morning
My saturate eyes open slowly and welcomes the morning sun
Then I feel warm and comfortable at peace of mind
The morning smell of the earth reminds me my childhood
The wetness of flora brings me cool breeze.
I was born in this universe with peaceful nature around me
Then, I always felt that I was a star on my own brightness.
Learned, the love and kindness brings me a peace of mind
Learned, the prayers for God brings me a peace of mind
Learned, the help for helpless brings me a peace of mind
Learned, the life of peace brings me a peace of mind
When my saturate eyes close slowly and welcomes the silent night
Then I fall sleep comfortably at peace of mind while praying God
to have another peaceful day.

poem by Ravi Sathasivam
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Peace Came

When peace came,
I showered under streaming light
- Silent, settling -
Effectuating over all -
The reassurance drunk
From Mother Nature's breast.

And rays channeled through
The greys of ancient gloom
That paste the hopelessness of
Dying on the battlefield or

The losing out upon a risk
In love;

Byes to precious life
(A husband, child, a wife) :

Or failure:
Crashed careers; bleak depression,
The fallen - ruined, spurned -
Covered in veneers of rasping blight.

When peace came, a gate begged
A gentle path inviting me to
Stroll through verdant fields of spring,
Bristling with a bouncing life
Of colour; flowers cheering to
The air ‘We have a chance in nature! '

When peace came, my addled head was
Reconciling, airing, ringing true -
The sense of crushing pressure dead;
Instead, I flamed a faith anew!

When peace came, I saw our youth
Inside a multicultural womb; our
Death was pointing to a proud
And glorious tomb engraved with words of
Freedom for the soul that was when
Once a body whence it thrived.

When peace came, there happened you -
A fragrance dancing ‘gainst a new and
Frightened innocence of beauty
- Eyes ready; slender arms of care -
A tender skin to be caressed.

And we were blessed by starting fresh
In rhythms of pervading warmth;
Serenity.

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010

peace peace peace peace peace peace
peace peace peace peace peace peace
peace peace peace peace peace peace
peace peace peace peace peace peace peace peace peace
peace peace peace peace peace peace peace peace peace
peace peace peace peace peace peace peace peace peace
peace peace peace peace

poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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3 B.01 Peace

Peace - overcoming evil with good be,
Peace - overcoming falsehood with truth be,
Peace - overcoming hate with love clearly,
Peace - in hearts and minds of people be.

For Peace - love and sacrifice for it readily,
For Peace - strive to build it unhesitatingly,
For Peace - shun war understandingly,
For Peace - strive and work for it earnestly.

The more man sweats for the humanity,
The less he bleeds in war of societies,
Peace through peaceful means achieved be,
In nuclear age Peace the way of survival be.

poem by Munnan Misra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Oh peace, where do I find you.....

Oh peace, where do I find you
I search you everywhere in my country but I could not find you
Oh peace, our countrymen love to have you in their hearts
but now your presence is not there to have a peaceful life.
Oh peace where do you go and where can I find you
I see our mothers tears in my country more than rain has poured
I see our nation's charming beauty is lost and its taken away from many acts of hate
I see our people wandering like broken arms to recover their lost freedoms
I see our people beautiful brotherly smiles lost where anger knows no boundaries
I see our people often plant a seed of peace to grow smoothly
but often its burn like a wild fire to the ash by our leaders
We are yet to free from political terrorism and thugs in our own country
and they have trapped us behind shelter of broken promises and blatant lies
Always, life seems to be enjoyed with another man's hearts pain
Oh peace, what have we done to you for you to keep us away within reach
If our country is peaceful, it will blossom like a flower
There is nothing more precious than peace in this world
But peace without justice will not make any nation peaceful
because injustice is the enemy of peace
So, let us find peace where ever it is there within our reach in our minds and hearts

Ravi Sathasivam / Sri Lanka
Copyright @Feb/2010 Ravi Sathasivam

poem by Ravi Sathasivam
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The People Want Peace

Got to land those war planes....,
Bury the guns....,
Hold back the subs...,
All the missles and bombs...,
Raise your voices high...,
And start singin' with me....,
Let's do what's right....,
I know you'll agree....,

The People Want Peace....,
There's no other way...,
The People Want Peace....,
Startin' today....,
From the south to the north....,
West to the east....,
There's no doubt in my mind....,
The People Want Peace....! ! !

We worked and we slaved....,
For so many years....,
Let's share some laughter....,
Forget all the tears....,
I know we can live....,
Without envy and greed....,
With freedom to choose....,
That's why I believe....,

The People Want Peace....,
There's no other way...,
The People Want Peace....,
Startin' today....,
From the south to the north....,
West to the east....,
There's no doubt in my mind....,
The People Want Peace....! ! !

poem by Trade Martin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We Want Peace

Here it is once again in our face
Why havent we learned from our past
Were at the crossroads of the human race
Why are we kicking our own ass
We want peace, we want it
Yes we want peace, we want it
Yes we want peace
And we want it fast
We want peace, we want it
Yes we want peace, we want it
Yes we want peace
And we want it fast
Were on the eve of destruction my friends
We are about to go too far
Politicians think that war is the way
But we know that love has the power
We want peace, we want it
Yes we want peace, we want it
Yes we want peace
And we want it fast
We want peace, we want it
Yes we want peace, we want it
Yes we want peace
And we want it fast
The solution is simple and plain
There wont be peace if we dont try
In a war there is nothing to gain
And so many people will die
We want peace, we want it
Yes we want peace, we want it
Yes we want peace
And we want it fast
We want peace, we want it
Yes we want peace, we want it
Yes we want peace
And we want it fast

song performed by by Lenny Kravitz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Reflections Of Christmas Past

'I can hear sounds of bells, of that Christmas Day'
Another poet wrote, in their poetic way.
Of 'Peace on Earth, Good will to men.'
And still our earth seeks, that peace again!

Like Him, I bow in great despair
And pray that peace, be everywhere!
'Tho hate is strong, and mocks peace songs
Of Peace on earth, to those seem wrong.

But as the poet wrote, in time of yore
'Hate and greed shall be no more.
God is not dead, nor doth He sleep!
The wrong shall fail, the right prevail!
with, ' peace on earth Good will to men.'

When men put away all their hate and greed
And return to love and faith, for another's need!
Then we shall truly have again
'Peace on earth, and Good will to men! '

poem by Linda Winchell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Christmas

How grace this hallowed day?
Shall happy bells, from yonder ancient spire,
Send their glad greetings to each Christmas fire
Round which the children play?

Alas! for many a moon,
That tongueless tower hath cleaved the Sabbath air,
Mute as an obelisk of ice, aglare
Beneath an Arctic noon.

Shame to the foes that drown
Our psalms of worship with their impious drum,
The sweetest chimes in all the land lie dumb
In some far rustic town.

There, let us think, they keep,
Of the dead Yules which here beside the sea
They've ushered in with old-world, English glee,
Some echoes in their sleep.

How shall we grace the day?
With feast, and song, and dance, and antique sports,
And shout of happy children in the courts,
And tales of ghost and fay?

Is there indeed a door,
Where the old pastimes, with their lawful noise,
And all the merry round of Christmas joys,
Could enter as of yore?

Would not some pallid face
Look in upon the banquet, calling up
Dread shapes of battles in the wassail cup,
And trouble all the place?

How could we bear the mirth,
While some loved reveler of a year ago
Keeps his mute Christmas now beneath the snow,
In cold Virginian earth?

How shall we grace the day?
Ah! let the thought that on this holy morn
The Prince of Peace -- the Prince of Peace was born,
Employ us, while we pray!

Pray for the peace which long
Hath left this tortured land, and haply now
Holds its white court on some far mountain's brow,
There hardly safe from wrong!

Let every sacred fane
Call its sad votaries to the shrine of God,
And, with the cloister and the tented sod,
Join in one solemn strain!

With pomp of Roman form,
With the grave ritual brought from England's shore,
And with the simple faith which asks no more
Than that the heart be warm!

He, who, till time shall cease,
Will watch that earth, where once, not all in vain,
He died to give us peace, may not disdain
A prayer whose theme is -- peace.

Perhaps ere yet the Spring
Hath died into the Summer, over all
The land, the peace of His vast love shall fall,
Like some protecting wing.

Oh, ponder what it means!
Oh, turn the rapturous thought in every way!
Oh, give the vision and the fancy play,
And shape the coming scenes!

Peace in the quiet dales,
Made rankly fertile by the blood of men,
Peace in the woodland, and the lonely glen,
Peace in the peopled vales!

Peace in the crowded town,
Peace in a thousand fields of waving grain,
Peace in the highway and the flowery lane,
Peace on the wind-swept down!

Peace on the farthest seas,
Peace in our sheltered bays and ample streams,
Peace wheresoe'er our starry garland gleams,
And peace in every breeze!

Peace on the whirring marts,
Peace where the scholar thinks, the hunter roams,
Peace, God of Peace! peace, peace, in all our homes,
And peace in all our hearts!

poem by Henry Timrod
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Peace In Me

Peace to you
Peace to All

May God Gives us the peace
Every peace is in me

May my days fill with peaceful day
May The day be peaceful

Peace Be With Me
Peace Be With You

Peace Be with everyone
Peace to All

poem by Lawrence Hiung
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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