A Petition
I pray to be the tool which to your hand
Long use has shaped and moulded till it be
Apt for your need, and, unconsideringly,
You take it for its service. I demand
To be forgotten in the woven strand
Which grows the multi-coloured tapestry
Of your bright life, and through its tissues lie
A hidden, strong, sustaining, grey-toned band.
I wish to dwell around your daylight dreams,
The railing to the stairway of the clouds,
To guard your steps securely up, where streams
A faery moonshine washing pale the crowds
Of pointed stars. Remember not whereby
You mount, protected, to the far-flung sky.
poem by Amy Lowell
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Tapestry Of LIfe
I see life
Like a Tapestry
Were you weave
In and out of life
As the journey unfolds
Each thread
Inter woven in your dreams
Have vibrant colours
That burst into being
That burst into life
Then often as in life
You have the black
Grey and white
The hidden nightmares
The hidden dreams
The shadows of life
The beauty of it all
Is how each thread
Intertwines its way through life
Each colour vibrant
With each thread you sew
Even the shadows
Bring out the colours
On a tapestry of Gold
poem by Kaila George
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Love Comes.
When love comes
The sky hums.
And passion drums
In our loins.
There will be
Fire in my soul.
Let us burn in ecstasy.
All the love
That others stole
We will make so perfectly.
Clothed only in moonlight
We come together
In the night.
Our cries of love
That fly so high
Send sweet vibration
To summer sky.
When love comes
Pain numbs,
Guitar strums,
Piano grand
-The backing band
In your head.
Your petal cheeks flushed hot red.
In the act of love.
That drama from above.
Our crescendo
Like the waves
That keep coming
In such splendour,
Only saves
One breath of a rhyme.
One heartbeat in time.
When love comes
- With arrow to the soul
To melt the ice of a thousand years,
A million tears
Dry in the sun.
Our multi coloured dreams
On tapestry spun.
Now woven in our minds.
When love fires stars
From its golden gun
- Just pray that you it finds.
poem by Kevin East
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Oh That Tapestry
Oh that tapestry
How I have yearned
to weave it with
you.
A combination of
threads
gold and silver
strong and secure
closely knotted
in the end.
tears and laughter
woven together
creating us.
our lives inter-
woven
a coming together
began so long ago
oh that tapestry.
poem by Heather Burns
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Words Woven - Parody Mary BEULEY - Words Woven
Words woven into speech
soon reach
intact thread spirit of each act,
knit warp and weft of wit wish fact,
dreams' tapestry may teach.
Words express essentials,
transmit, unwind
from mind to mind,
address ideas which, blind,
would grope for means to equate
sensations refined,
coarse, sophisticate.
Thus they incarnate
emotion's multi coloured coat, pattern twist
around ideas which form,
unform,
inform or disinform,
or take by storm
precisely or by gist
the geist soul kissed.
Words woven into speech
pen hand,
when scanned
from thoughts’ life blood leach
emotions, sense, dressed to suit
points phallic and points mute,
ideo-grand!
© Jonathan Robin Parody Mary BEULEY 1837_1916 written 12 December 1995 – Words Woven revised 31 July 2008 notably first verse below
Words woven into speech
soon reach
to knit the spirit of each act,
the warp and weft of every fact,
through dreams to teach.
______________
Words Woven
Words woven into rhyme
In time
Become a tapestry of thought
A canvas of experience in which
Our dreams are wrought.
Words are the evidence of what goes on
communicate
Within the mind.
They clothe the invisible
With robes of speech,
Sophisticated as silk,
Homespun as hessian,
And in between
The many-patterned, many-textured range,
Familiar and strange,
Of words -
Woven and dyed and spun
For Fun
Or seriously aware
Of what is there.
Words woven into rhyme
Or prose
Transpose
Giving the tiny embryo of thought
A dress to wear, most delicately wrought,
And caught for ever in a form know
And understand.
Mary BEULEY 1837_1916
© Jonathan Robin Parody Mary BEULEY written 12 December 1995
poem by Jonathan Robin
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When the firmament quivers with daylight's young beam
When the firmament quivers with daylight's young beam,
And the woodlands awaking burst into a hymn,
And the glow of the sky blazes back from the stream,
How the bright ones of heaven in the brightness grow dim.
Oh! 'tis sad, in that moment of glory and song,
To see, while the hill-tops are waiting the sun,
The glittering band that kept watch all night long
O'er Love and o'er Slumber, go out one by one:
Till the circle of ether, deep, ruddy, and vast,
Scarce glimmers with one of the train that were there;
And their leader the day-star, the brightest and last,
Twinkles faintly and fades in that desert of air.
Thus, Oblivion, from midst of whose shadow we came,
Steals o'er us again when life's twilight is gone;
And the crowd of bright names, in the heaven of fame,
Grow pale and are quenched as the years hasten on.
Let them fade--but we'll pray that the age, in whose flight,
Of ourselves and our friends the remembrance shall die
May rise o'er the world, with the gladness and light
Of the morning that withers the stars from the sky.
poem by William Cullen Bryant
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Can you see the blue eye
That wipes away the doubts
Turns down all the walls
Builds forgotten lands
Can you see the sky
Wearing the clouds
Fluffy cotton balls
So soft to the hand
I want to look at that eye
At the stars hidden by the daylight
To see the gown that the sky
Likes to wear at night
Angels unseen above
The way they spread their wings
Forever in love
With beauty that up there sings
©Miroslava Odalović
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Invocation
I called on dreams and visions, to disclose
That which is veil'd from waking thought; conjured
Eternity, as men constrain a ghost
To appear and answer. ~ WORDSWORTH.
Answer me, burning stars of night!
Where is the spirit gone,
That past the reach of human sight,
As a swift breeze hath flown?–
And the stars answer'd me–'We roll
In light and power on high;
But, of the never-dying soul,
Ask that which cannot die.'
Oh! many-toned and chainless wind!
Thou art a wanderer free;
Tell me if thou its place canst find,
Far over mount and sea?–
And the wind murmur'd in reply,
'The blue deep I have cross'd,
And met its barks and billows high,
But not what thou hast lost.'
Ye clouds, that gorgeously repose
Around the setting sun,
Answer! have ye a home for those
Whose earthly race is run?
The bright clouds answer'd–'We depart,
We vanish from the sky;
Ask what is deathless in thy heart,
For that which cannot die.'
Speak then, thou voice of God within,
Thou of the deep, low tone!
Answer me, thro' life's restless din,
Where is the spirit flown?
And the voice answer'd–'Be thou still!
Enough to know is given;
Clouds, winds, and stars their part fulfil,
Thine is to trust in Heaven.'
poem by Felicia Dorothea Hemans
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Stairway To The Stars
INTRO
There's a silver trail of moonlight leading upward to the sky
And the night is like a velvet lullaby
There's a heaven of blue
And we'll go there, just you and I
Let's build a stairway to the stars
And climb that stairway to the stars
With love beside us to fill the night with a song
We'll hear the sound of violins
Out yonder where the blue begins
The moon will guide us as we go drifting along
CHORUS:
Can't we sail away on a lazy daisy petal
Over the rim of the hill?
Can't we sail away on a little dream
And settle high on the crest of a thrill?
Let's build a stairway to the stars
A lovely stairway to the stars
It would be heaven to climb to heaven with you
Let's build a stairway to the stars
A lovely stairway to the stars
It would be heaven to climb to heaven with you
song performed by by Natalie Cole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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0271 The Covering
It was not bright enough, not bright enough
to show itself to them, to all; to tempt
the world to bring it gifts; the coloured wool
would say to them look here, look here
it was not strong enough, not strong enough
to meet the heat, the cold; to venture
in the world’s bright gifts; the coloured wool
would warm it in the cold, the cold
it was not safe enough, not safe enough
to shield itself from hurt; to live its life
amid the strong, the weak; the coloured wool
would hide it from the hurt, the hurt
there was not care enough, not care enough;
the wool was knotted; slipped and slid
around its centre there; the coloured wool
is knotted here and here and here
there is not time enough, not time enough
to free the wool; the wool it would cast off
from off its centre there; the coloured wool
that never was the need, the need
there were not words enough, not words enough
to free itself; itself which never had the need
to bind itself in coloured wools; it did not trust
the bright, the strong, the safe, the care, the time.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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The Home Of The Spirit
Answer me, burning stars of night,
Where is the spirit gone,
That past the reach of human sight,
As a swift breeze hath flown?
And the stars answer'd me: 'We roll
In light and power on high;
But of the never-dying soul
Ask that which cannot die.'
O many-toned and chainless wind,
Thou art a wanderer free;
Tell me if thou its place canst find,
Far over mount and sea?
And the wind murmur'd in reply:
'The blue deep I have cross'd,
And met its barks and billows high,
But not what thou hast lost.'
Ye clouds that gorgeously repose
Around the setting sun,
Answer - Have ye a home for those
Whose earthly race is run?
The bright clouds answer'd: 'We depart,
We vanish from the sky;
Ask what is deathless in thy heart
For that which cannot die.'
Speak, then, thou voice of God within,
Thou of the deep low tone;
Answer me, through life's restless din -
Where is the spirit flown?
And the voice answer'd: 'Be thou still;
Enough to know is given;
Clouds, winds, and stars
their
part fulfil;
Thine
is to trust in Heaven.'
poem by Felicia Dorothea Hemans
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Dreams To Remember
Artist(Band):Robert Palmer
(Print the Lyrics)
I got dreams, dreams to remember
I got dreams, dreams to remember
Honey I saw you there last night
Another man's arms holding you tight
Nobody knows how I felt inside
All I know is I walked away and cried
I got dreams, dreams to remember
Dreams to remember
I know you said he was just a friend
But I saw you kiss him again and again
These eyes of mine they don't fool me
Why did he hold you so tenderly
I got dreams, dreams to remember
Dreams to remember
I got dreams, dreams to remember
I still want you to stay
I still love you anyway
I don't want you to ever leave
Girl - you just satisfy me
I know you said he was just a friend
But I saw you kiss him again and again
These eyes of mine they don't fool me
Why did you hold him so tenderly
I got dreams, dreams to remember
Ooh dreams
Brok'n dreams
Don't help each other
Bad dreams
Dreams to remember
Dreams to remember
Dreams to remember
Dreams to remember
Dreams to remember
Dreams to remember
Dreams to remember........
song performed by by Robert Palmer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Stolen Child
(wb yeats)
Come away, human child
To the water
Come away, human child
To the water and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand
For the worlds more full of weeping than you can understand
Where dips the rocky highland
Of sleuth wood in the lake
There lies a leafy island
Where flapping herons wake
The drowsy water rats;
There weve hid our faery vats
Full of berries
And of reddest stolen cherries
Come away, human child
To the water
Come away, human child
To the water and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand
For the worlds more full of weeping than you can understand
Where the wave of moonlight glosses
The dim gray sands with light
Far off by furthest rosses
We foot it all the night
Weaving olden dances
Mingling hands and mingling glances
Till the moon has taken flight;
To and fro we leap
And chase the frothy bubbles
While the world is full of troubles
And is anxious in its sleep
Come away, human child
To the water
Come away, human child
To the water and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand
For the worlds more full of weeping than you can understand
Where the wandering water gushes
From the hills above glen-car
In pools among the rushes
The scarce could bathe a star
We seek for slumbering trout
And whispering in their ears
We give them unquiet dreams;
Leaning softly out
From ferns that drop their tears
Over the young streams
Away with us hes going
The solemn-eyed:
Hell hear no more the lowing
Of the calves on the warm hillside;
Or the kettle on the hob
Sing peace into his breast
Or see the brown mice bob
Around and around the oatmeal-chest
For he comes, the human child
To the water
He comes, the human child
To the water and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand
From a world more full of weeping than he can understand
Human child
Human child
With a faery, hand in hand
From a world more full of weeping than he can understand...
Than he can understand...
He can understand...
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In the Night
Cruel? I think there never was a cheating
More cruel, thro' all the weary days than this!
This is no dream, my heart kept on repeating,
But sober certainty of waking bliss.
Dreams? O, I know their faces -- goodly seeming,
Vaporous, whirled on many-coloured wings;
I have had dreams before, this is no dreaming,
But daylight gladness that the daylight brings.
What ails my love; what ails her? She is paling;
Faint grows her face, and slowly seems to fade!
I cannot clasp her--stretch out unavailing
My arms across the silence and the shade.
Coloured Dreams
In coloured dreams
We will chase our tears away.
In crimson and creams
A sunlit bouquet
Sprayed with Heaven's scent.
Lent
By a promise of blue moon.
Where memories are spun
Within a lovers swoon.
As we escape
All wordly themes.
Standing on the cape
Of indigo beams.
In coloured dreams
We will kiss
With the freedom
Of a dove
Flown from deepest abyss.
And our smiles
Will fill the canvas
Of an open sky.
Glittering stars
That will never dry
Or run.
Hanging in the gallery of midnight sun.
In coloured dreams
We will float
Like a concerto
Across a sleeping lake.
On ethereal wings
Of golden opaque.
As a moonbeam sings
For lonely hearts
About to break.
The soothing hues
Of the artist's loving hand.
Yellows and blues
That a summer breeze
Had fanned
Over the ocean.
Where mariners of love
Lay marooned.
That harlequin of rhyme
To heal their wound.
In coloured dreams
We meet in clouds
To harmonise
With distant crowds
Of sunrise
And lost prayers.
Now lit like purple flares.
Into blackest night.
Burning down
To candlelight
Of a far away love.
To look above
And watch
Rainbows dance
Their random lights
Lit by chance,
That spins
With ballerina grace.
As happiness paints the face
Of every tear stained clown.
A fanfare of colours
Reigning crown.
On sunset
Waiting in the frown
Of twilight.
May coloured dreams ignite
In lovers hearts.
Before dawn
Parts with just a sigh.
As promises will fly.
poem by Kevin East
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The Rose Of Battle
ROSE of all Roses, Rose of all the World!
The tall thought-woven sails, that flap unfurled
Above the tide of hours, trouble the air,
And God's bell buoyed to be the water's care;
While hushed from fear, or loud with hope, a band
With blown, spray-dabbled hair gather at hand,
Turn if you may from battles never done,
I call, as they go by me one by one,
Danger no refuge holds, and war no peace,
For him who hears love sing and never cease,
Beside her clean-swept hearth, her quiet shade:
But gather all for whom no love hath made
A woven silence, or but came to cast
A song into the air, and singing passed
To smile on the pale dawn; and gather you
Who have sougft more than is in rain or dew,
Or in the sun and moon, or on the earth,
Or sighs amid the wandering, starry mirth,
Or comes in laughter from the sea's sad lips,
And wage God's battles in the long grey ships.
The sad, the lonely, the insatiable,
To these Old Night shall all her mystery tell;
God's bell has claimed them by the little cry
Of their sad hearts, that may not live nor die.
Rose of all Roses, Rose of all the World!
You, too, have come where the dim tides are hurled
Upon the wharves of sorrow, and heard ring
The bell that calls us on; the sweet far thing.
Beauty grown sad with its eternity
Made you of us, and of the dim grey sea.
Our long ships loose thought-woven sails and wait,
For God has bid them share an equal fate;
And when at last, defeated in His wars,
They have gone down under the same white stars,
We shall no longer hear the little cry
Of our sad hearts, that may not live nor die.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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Shipmates And Cheyenne
Ship,ates and Cheyenne raindrops and cryin'
Haunt the dreams of an old, old man
Candles and churchbells laughter and farewells
Revolve in his thoughts like a wind
Stallions and blizzards steelys and lizards
Drift in the meadows of time
No sense of progression, of age or direction
No meter, no form, no rhyme
I'll hold me one just one risin' sun
Long after daylight is gone
I'll hold me one just one risin' sun
'Till my daylight and darkness is done
Kingdoms and covers, losers and lovers
And evenin's of blackberry wine
Fallin' like sands, the memories of cans
And kisses and whispers and sighs
I'll hold me on just one risin' sun
'Till long after daylight is gone
I'll hold me one just one risin' sun
'Till my daylight and darkness is done
I'll hold me one, one more risin' sun
'Till my daylight and darkness is done
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Vampires
She will bring a little box of moonlight
To light my way on such a very dark night
Dreams so real they grow wild on the vine
Until sundown, when she comes
She comes just like a daydream
And the sun surrenders to the evening
Ive waited all day long to be with you girl
Well burn like falling stars tonight
And hide like vampires from the daylight
Until sundown
Dreams so real they grow wild on the vine
Well burn like falling stars tonight
And hide like vampires from the daylight
Our world comes alive at night
And like the stars, they shine so bright
As long as you are mine
As long as you are mine
As long as you are mine
song performed by by Fastball
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Stolen Child
Where dips the rocky highland
Of Sleuth Wood in the lake,
There lies a leafy island
Where flapping herons wake
The drowsy water rats;
There we've hid our faery vats,
Full of berrys
And of reddest stolen cherries.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.
Where the wave of moonlight glosses
The dim gray sands with light,
Far off by furthest Rosses
We foot it all the night,
Weaving olden dances
Mingling hands and mingling glances
Till the moon has taken flight;
To and fro we leap
And chase the frothy bubbles,
While the world is full of troubles
And anxious in its sleep.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.
Where the wandering water gushes
From the hills above Glen-Car,
In pools among the rushes
That scarce could bathe a star,
We seek for slumbering trout
And whispering in their ears
Give them unquiet dreams;
Leaning softly out
From ferns that dropp their tears
Over the young streams.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.
Away with us he's going,
The solemn-eyed:
He'll hear no more the lowing
Of the calves on the warm hillside
Or the kettle on the hob
Sing peace into his breast,
Or see the brown mice bob
Round and round the oatmeal chest.
For he comes, the human child,
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than he can understand.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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A Star In The East
FOR THE ART EXHIBITION AT ST. JUDE'S, WHITECHAPEL
LIKE a fair flower springing fresh, sweet, and bright,
Through prison stones; or like one perfect song
Heard in a dream on one remembered night,
When waking worlds were dumb with grief and wrong;
Like the one kiss that links--first kiss and last--
The inevitable future spent apart
With the immutable divided past:
So in the east shines out this star of Art.
The narrow-shouldered, pale-faced girl and boy
Nestle against Art's new-found, love-warm breast,
And feel vague stirrings of a far-off joy,
Which life has never for themselves possessed,
And dimly guess at wonders hardly known--
Even as dreams--and weep glad tears to see
A loveliness that is at once life's own,
And yet is something life can never be.
Not worse will work the flying busy hand
Because the soul has drunk a cup of pleasure,
Has picked up on its leaden-coloured strand
Some little jewel of Art's splendid treasure,
Nor will less work be done because men see
That work is not the only thing in life,
Because they have been glad at heart and free
A little space 'mid sorrow, sin, and strife.
And this sweet draught may banish men's content?
For this we pray and strive--not all in vain--
That men may reach such heights of discontent
As never to fall back to peace again
Where no peace is--nor rest from strife and prayers,
But tread firm-footed up the thorny way,
Till all that spring of art and joy is theirs
Whereof they taste so small a draught to-day.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Design
Day after day, untouched by cloud or shine,
lost crowds crowds jostle underground to seek
some raison d’être through the working week
beneath the surface bustle, engine whine.
For some the day begins when in a line
they stand too long for handouts doled with pique.
For far too few is life triumphant [s]peak
prolonged from birth till death by cheques they sign.
What is the rhyme and reason, the design
behind the moving hand whose meaning’s Greek
to most – a host of phantom [s]wills who cheek
to cheek dare seldom dance, who, herded swine,
spend three score years and ten till end of span,
then fade, forgotten, from life’s caravan.
poem by Jonathan Robin
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