En.Citatepedia^®.ro

The Goal

ON the grey levels of the plain of life
When, slowly swirled,
The moving hills of morning mist
Hedged in the world—
While yet undared the path of toil and strife,
I found a friend
Whose faith I pictured would persist
Until the end.
Then peered the stooping sun across the plain—
The world he kissed;
In sudden glory shimmering
Flamed all the mist!
The sullen Darkness carried off his slain,
And straight away,
Like a forefinger beckoning,
The white road lay.
Her hand in mine, upon the path we pressed;
Together shared
The flowers we plucked—to find them pain;
And forward fared
Till we stood radiant on the mountain crest;
And still ahead,
Dipping to pleasant depths of plain,
The white road led.
But when I urged her onward to the end
Her heart peered out

Upon the road's unswerving leap
In dizzy doubt.
“Nay, we have reached the highest, why descend?”
Her lips demurred—
And with us, gazing at the steep,
There stood a third.
Her eyes clasped his in an embrace of love.
Said they: “No more;
Here on the crest is our abode,
Our journey o'er;
The goal for you!” So, leaving them above,
I went alone—
And still the arrow of the road
Sped on, straight on!
But darker and more desolate the way,
Until I turned—
Lo, in the halo of the sun
The lovers burned,
High on the mountain-top! Ah, what if they,
By passion kissed,
The goal of life and love have won,
And I have missed?

poem by Arthur Henry Adams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love Found

As I weep and wait for you,
From the chill there is no escape,
All night I walk the mist filled hills,
And long for your warm embrace.

I hunger for your kisses,
The pain in my heart to errace,
But I know this won't happen,
For the tomb holds your embrace.

Your lips now stone cold,
To the living do not yield,
My love, a soldier brave,
Now dead on some foreign feild.

My heart is slowly dying,
My mind will never heal,
I look for you in the mist filled hills,
Your love once again to feel.

How can my heart keep beating,
When my mind is dead to life,
My body feels so broken,
How can I bear this strife?

They say I greaved my self to death,
But it only set me free,
For at last I found my soldier,
If only they could see.

So if you walk these hills at night,
And two lovers embraced, you see,
You'll know I found my soldier,
And my love, he did find me.

poem by Teresa Dearing
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Inertia Creeps

3d
Recollect me darling raise me to your lips
2 undernourished egos 4 rotating hips
Hold on to me tightly Im a sliding scale
Cant endure then you can inhale
Clearly out of body experience
Interferes and dreams of flying I fit nearly
Surrounds me though I get lonely
Slowly
Moving up slowly
Inertia keeps
Shes moving up slowly
Slowly
Moving up slowly
Interia creeps
Moving up slowly
She comes moving up slowly
She comes moving up slowly
Inertia creeps
Moving up slowly
She comes
Moving up slowly (x2)
In my home no chrome as clear as
See me now with my nearest dearest
Been there when Im over-careering
Room shifting is endearing
Between us is our kitchen
Where she finds my irritants itching
Been here before been here forever
Moving up slowly
Inertia keeps moving up slowly
Inertia creeps moving up slowly
Inertia keeps moving up slowly
She comes
Moving up slowly (x2)
She comes moving up slowly
Inertia creeps moving up slowly
She comes
There be no sound in my eiderdown
Awake I lie in the morning blue
Room is still my antenna in you
Nylon burns the bedspread with 2
Gravity zero see me stall
I bounce off the walls lose my footing and fall
It can be sweet though incomplete though
And the frames will freeze see me on all 4s
Its been a long time
She comes (x2)
Comes
I want to x you, she comes
I want to x you, she comes
I caught your radio waves
I caught your radio waves
With tin cans and string
Say you string me along
Say string me along
Say inertia creeps
Inertia creeps and she comes
Say she comes (x4)

song performed by by Massive Attack
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Song Of Spring

The Spring comes slowly up this way,
Slowly, slowly,
Under a snood of hodden grey.

The black and white for her array,
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.

Where is her green that was so gay?
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.

Unto a world too sick for May,
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.

Where are the lads that used to play?
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.

She has no heart for holiday,
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.

The trees are out in Heaven they say.
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up our way.

poem by Katharine Tynan
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To Wolcott Balestier

Beyond the path of the outmost sun through utter darkness hurled --
Further than ever comet flared or vagrant star-dust swirled --
Live such as fought and sailed and ruled and loved and made our world.

They are purged of pride because they died, they know the worth of their bays,
They sit at wine with the Maidens Nine and the Gods of the Elder Days,
It is their will to serve or be still as fitteth our Father's praise.

'Tis theirs to sweep through the ringing deep where Azrael's outposts are,
Or buffet a path through the Pit's red wrath when God goes out to war,
Or hang with the reckless Seraphim on the rein of a red-maned star.

They take their mirth in the joy of the Earth --
they dare not grieve for her pain --
They know of toil and the end of toil, they know God's law is plain,
So they whistle the Devil to make them sport who know that Sin is vain.

And ofttimes cometh our wise Lord God, master of every trade,
And tells them tales of His daily toil, of Edens newly made;
And they rise to their feet as He passes by, gentlemen unafraid.

To these who are cleansed of base Desire, Sorrow and Lust and Shame --
Gods for they knew the hearts of men, men for they stooped to Fame,
Borne on the breath that men call Death, my brother's spirit came.

He scarce had need to doff his pride or slough the dross of Earth --
E'en as he trod that day to God so walked he from his birth,
In simpleness and gentleness and honour and clean mirth.

So cup to lip in fellowship they gave him welcome high
And made him place at the banquet board -- the Strong Men ranged thereby,
Who had done his work and held his peace and had no fear to die.

Beyond the loom of the last lone star, through open darkness hurled,
Further than rebel comet dared or hiving star-swarm swirled,
Sits he with those that praise our God for that they served His world.

poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Lover's Gifts XLVIII: I Travelled the Old Road

I travelled the old road every day, I took my fruits to the market,
my cattle to the meadows, I ferried my boat across the stream and
all the ways were well known to me.
One morning my basket was heavy with wares. Men were busy in
the fields, the pastures crowded with cattle; the breast of earth
heaved with the mirth of ripening rice.
Suddenly there was a tremor in the air, and the sky seemed to
kiss me on my forehead. My mind started up like the morning out of
mist.
I forgot to follow the track. I stepped a few paces from the
path, and my familiar world appeared strange to me, like a flower
I had only known in bud.
My everyday wisdom was ashamed. I went astray in the fairyland
of things. It was the best luck of my life that I lost my path that
morning, and found my eternal childhood.

poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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Grey

Grey road stretched through grey rain.
Grey rain fell though grey mist.
Grey mist enveloped all,
all the eye could see,
all the land,
all the sky
and me.
Grey covered all,
all the way down to the sea.

Glimpsed through grey the swell of the ocean,
riding the waves a wind surfer surfing,
chopping, fighting the crests with swift motion
skirting the spray, sail unfurling.
Stopping, I stared at that sight in the mist,
oh how he came dancing over the sea,
right through the rain a state of sheer bliss,
the wondrous frolic rippling throughout me
making me tingle right down deep inside.
That misty image ripped all grey apart
a glorious vision of freedom untied,
returning tremendous joy to my heart
filling me up, bringing tears to my eyes,
emerging from grey a great love of life.

poem by Diana Rosser
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Tomorrow Morning

Lonely, lost every part of me
maybe, outstayed my company
walking in to sad scenes
hold me tight and say goodbye
I've seen, behind tomorrow's sky
you be, my missing alibi
bone me over backwards
turn around and change my mind
Cause I've been thinking
about our world tonight
slowly sinking into my appetite
tomorrow morning
are you a friend of mine
I swear, you've left me open
nowhere, to hide this moment
overcrowded daydreams
we're lost or so it seems
Cause I've been thinking
about our world tonight
slowly sinking into my appetite
tomorrow morning
are you a friend of mine
Cause I've been thinking
about our world tonight
slowly sinking into my appetite
tomorrow morning
are you a friend of mine

song performed by by Natalie Imbruglia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mist On A Monday Morning

I wake and yawn at the crack of dawn
With dewdrops on my feet
As I rise up to greet the morning
Nothing much to eat
Every breath I take seems to make my body ache
My only friend is mist on a monday morning
Pick up my sack and walk for miles
Never thinking why
To the brewers yard where I can sit
And watch my life go by
Drink and drink all day till my memory melts away
I need a friend like mist on a monday morning
Wheres my wife, has she gone
I hear misty morning call
One foot resting in the grave
Destined not to see her anymore
Theres a den in the grass by the autopath
Of corrugated steel
I may be sleeping there tonight
And depending how I feel
Damp and dirty place
Printing sorrow on my face
With nothing but the mist on a monday morning
Chorus
From... I feel the sin
Like wheels upon my feet
Intoxicated by the night
I stumbled in the street
Every breath I take seems to make my body ache
And drift into the mist on a monday morning

song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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By the Grey Gulf-water

Far to the Northward there lies a land,
A wonderful land that the winds blow over,
And none may fathom or understand
The charm it holds for the restless rover;
A great grey chaos -- a land half made,
Where endless space is and no life stirreth;
There the soul of a man will recoil afraid
From the sphinx-like visage that Nature weareth.
But old Dame Nature, though scornful, craves
Her dole of death and her share of slaughter;
Many indeed are the nameless graves
Where her victims sleep by the Grey Gulf-water.
Slowly and slowly those grey streams glide,
Drifting along with a languid motion,
Lapping the reed-beds on either side,
Wending their way to the North Ocean.
Grey are the plains where the emus pass
Silent and slow, with their dead demeanour;
Over the dead man's graves the grass
Maybe is waving a trifle greener.
Down in the world where men toil and spin
Dame Nature smiles as man's hand has taught her;
Only the dead men her smiles can win
In the great lone land by the Grey Gulf-water.

For the strength of man is an insect's strength
In the face of that mighty plain and river,
And the life of a man is a moment's length
To the life of the stream that will run for ever.
And so it comes that they take no part
In small world worries; each hardy rover
Rides like a paladin, light of heart,
With the plains around and the blue sky over.
And up in the heavens the brown lark sings
The songs the strange wild land has taught her;
Full of thanksgiving her sweet song rings --
And I wish I were back by the Grey Gulf-water.

poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
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Born To Run

The quiet sadness of the people of the north
Echoes silently around the cold grey places
Ecstasies undared tremble upon the edge of the tightly, respectably unfulfilled
Who drink to excess in order to forget what never happened
Brave faces
Well dressed ordered minds on suicides edge
Reflected in the rain skimmed slate grey, battleship grey, hardship grey...
And further south, and homeless,
Here I am. globally-altered and dishevelled
Oh darling, Ive done it all
An antithesis of sorts
And yet bound together and hopelessly in love
With the inevitable loss
And the end
How can we run from ourselves?

song performed by by Marillion
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cold Grey Morning

Cold grey morning without sunlight ghostly mist on the horizon
Empty visions of a world gone mad paints a picture so revealing
Through my window dark tomorrow I can hear the sirens wailing
For the future we are holding on as the ship of fools is sailing
Such a long time such a long time
We are waiting for a peace that's lasting
Reaching upward sliding downward looks like just another
Cold grey morning
Hardly breathing hope is fading it's the e nd of the beginning
Children playing in the empty streets it's a cold grey morning

song performed by by Kansas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Morning Peace

THE sudden sunbeams slant between the trees
Like solid bars of silver. moonlight kissed,
And strike the supine shadows where they rest
Stretched sleeping; while a timid, new-born Breeze
Stirs through the grasses, petulant—her eyes
Half-blinded by the clinging scarves of mist:
Her robes, that tangled through the grasses twist,
Weave as she moves sweet whispered melodies.
O may it be a morn like this, when slow
From a dark world beneath my soul shall go
Through the wet grasses of a purple plain,
Still stretching broader in the cool, grey glow
Of morning twllight: then my soul shall know
That life and love are lost—and found again!

poem by Arthur Henry Adams
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A Short Cut

I decided to walk home from the pub through Booth’s wood,
it only took half the time the winding road would.
A minute or so into the wood a fusty smell filled the air
and a ground mist seemed to cover everywhere.

This path I’d walked many times and never noticed this before,
it was very eyrie with no breeze to disturb the mist at all.
I came across a clearing where the trees were further apart,
for no reason a thumping was echoing from my heart.

I stopped and looked all around, just to satisfy my curiosity
when towards me came a cloud of a green luminosity.
It came from within the wood, which was difficult to believe,
but then a purple cloud formed from behind a fallen tree.

Now I was really getting anxious, as I put a sprint into my pace,
then another cloud, a yellow one was heading towards my face.
The thought of going back from where I came entered my mind
so I turned around, but the clouds were in front and behind.

They weren’t in a hurry, but they were slowly closing in,
a blue cloud joined the others, this defied logic and reasoning.
I became overwhelmed and mesmeric, so I had to stand and wait
and let the four clouds surround me, on them rested my fate.

The four clouds enveloped me, as they swirled and mixed into one,
I breathed in their moisture and felt compelled to walk on.
I didn’t know where I was going; I was blinded by the cloud,
but they formed an alley, so I walked within the shroud.

It swirled again together and then separated just as they came,
and departed in four directions, and never came back again.
They had left me standing on the edge of a cliff’s precipice,
which to my local knowledge, until then didn’t exist.

Looking over the edge I could see a crashed aeroplane below,
it must have lost its bearings and navigated to low.
There was nothing I could do, but tomorrow I would return again
and climb down the rock face to inspect the aeroplane.

Early the next morning I descended and found five bodies inside,
a dog, two adults and two children, they died side by side.
The police went to investigate when I reported the crashed plane,
it had crashed in a magnetic storm of swirling cloud and rain.

poem by Orlando Belo
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Changing perspective for bro Colin

A patchwork quilt of sunlit fields
Is visible as grey mist yields
to the majesty of the sun.

The morning mist and night shadows
are well aware that they must go
Now that a new day has begun.

The distant hills which I now see
Become for me reality
Now that the mists have fully gone.

No longer just a fantasy,
a half forgotten memory.
I wandered happily alone.

I did not lack for company
I had my book of poetry.
What more could any poet need
except a quiet spot to read.

31/08/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Song Of The Chattahoochee

Out of the hills of Habersham,
Down the valleys of Hall,
I hurry amain to reach the plain,
Run the rapid and leap the fall,
Split at the rock and together again,
Accept my bed, or narrow or wide,
And flee from folly on every side
With a lover's pain to attain the plain
Far from the hills of Habersham,
Far from the valleys of Hall.

All down the hills of Habersham,
All through the valleys of Hall,
The rushes cried `Abide, abide,'
The willful waterweeds held me thrall,
The laving laurel turned my tide,
The ferns and the fondling grass said `Stay,'
The dewberry dipped for to work delay,
And the little reeds sighed `Abide, abide,
Here in the hills of Habersham,
Here in the valleys of Hall.'

High o'er the hills of Habersham,
Veiling the valleys of Hall,
The hickory told me manifold
Fair tales of shade, the poplar tall
Wrought me her shadowy self to hold,
The chestnut, the oak, the walnut, the pine,
Overleaning, with flickering meaning and sign,
Said, `Pass not, so cold, these manifold
Deep shades of the hills of Habersham,
These glades in the valleys of Hall.'

And oft in the hills of Habersham,
And oft in the valleys of Hall,
The white quartz shone, and the smooth brook-stone
Did bar me of passage with friendly brawl,
And many a luminous jewel lone
- Crystals clear or a-cloud with mist,
Ruby, garnet and amethyst -
Made lures with the lights of streaming stone
In the clefts of the hills of Habersham,
In the beds of the valleys of Hall.

But oh, not the hills of Habersham,
And oh, not the valleys of Hall
Avail: I am fain for to water the plain.
Downward the voices of Duty call -
Downward, to toil and be mixed with the main,
The dry fields burn, and the mills are to turn,
And a myriad flowers mortally yearn,
And the lordly main from beyond the plain
Calls o'er the hills of Habersham,
Calls through the valleys of Hall.

poem by Sidney Lanier
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The Song Of The Chattahoochee

Out of the hills of Habersham,
Down the valleys of Hall,
I hurry amain to reach the plain,
Run the rapid and leap the fall,
Split at the rock and together again,
Accept my bed, or narrow or wide,
And flee from folly on every side
With a lover's pain to attain the plain
Far from the hills of Habersham,
Far from the valleys of Hall.

All down the hills of Habersham,
All through the valleys of Hall,
The rushes cried `Abide, abide,'
The willful waterweeds held me thrall,
The laving laurel turned my tide,
The ferns and the fondling grass said `Stay,'
The dewberry dipped for to work delay,
And the little reeds sighed `Abide, abide,
Here in the hills of Habersham,
Here in the valleys of Hall.'

High o'er the hills of Habersham,
Veiling the valleys of Hall,
The hickory told me manifold
Fair tales of shade, the poplar tall
Wrought me her shadowy self to hold,
The chestnut, the oak, the walnut, the pine,
Overleaning, with flickering meaning and sign,
Said, `Pass not, so cold, these manifold
Deep shades of the hills of Habersham,
These glades in the valleys of Hall.'

And oft in the hills of Habersham,
And oft in the valleys of Hall,
The white quartz shone, and the smooth brook-stone
Did bar me of passage with friendly brawl,
And many a luminous jewel lone
-- Crystals clear or a-cloud with mist,
Ruby, garnet and amethyst --
Made lures with the lights of streaming stone
In the clefts of the hills of Habersham,
In the beds of the valleys of Hall.

But oh, not the hills of Habersham,
And oh, not the valleys of Hall
Avail: I am fain for to water the plain.
Downward the voices of Duty call --
Downward, to toil and be mixed with the main,
The dry fields burn, and the mills are to turn,
And a myriad flowers mortally yearn,
And the lordly main from beyond the plain
Calls o'er the hills of Habersham,
Calls through the valleys of Hall.

poem by Sidney Lanier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To a Friend

With a Volume of Verses.

TO you who dwell withdrawn, above
The world's tumultuous strife,
And, in an atmosphere of love,
Have triumphed over life;

To you whose heart has kept so young
Beneath the weight of years,
I give these passion flowers of song,
Still wet with undried tears.

You too have trod that stony path
Which steeply winds afar,
And seen, through nights of storm and wrath,
The bright and Morning Star;

Where, shining o'er the Alps of time
On valleys full of mist,
It beckons us to peaks sublime,
Oh, brave Idealist.

poem by Mathilde Blind
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Pea Soup

In my usual morning pea soup mist, rubbing my sleepy eyes,

I saw what I thought was a stooped old man slowly walking by.

My dreamy world cleared a bit when I realised he was bleeding

and the stoop of his back made me stop to think

just why his life had come to this.

He wheeled a shopping trolley but he wasn't near a shop.

He seemed to walk with purpose but I knew that he was lost.

Nobody seemed to notice, nobody seemed to care.

Most of them still in a pea soup mist going about their affairs.

poem by Ruth Walters
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Over the hills and far away

Over the hills and far away,
A little boy steals from his morning play
And under the blossoming apple-tree
He lies and he dreams of the things to be:
Of battles fought and of victories won,
Of wrongs o'erthrown and of great deeds done -
Of the valor that he shall prove some day,
Over the hills and far away -
Over the hills, and far away!

Over the hills and far away
It's, oh, for the toil the livelong day!
But it mattereth not to the soul aflame
With a love for riches and power and fame!
On, 0 man! while the sun is high -
On to the certain joys that lie
Yonder where blazeth the noon of day,
Over the hills and far away -
Over the hills, and far away!

Over the hills and far away,
An old man lingers at close of day;
Now that his journey is almost done,
His battles fought and his victories won -
The old-time honesty and truth,
The trustfulness and the friends of youth,
Home and mother-where are they?
Over the hills and far away -
Over the years, and far away!

poem by Eugene Field
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Castle In The Air

And if she asks you why you can tell her that I told you
That I'm tired of Castles in the Air
I've got a dream I want the world to share in castle walls
Just leave me to despair
Hills of forest green where the mountains touch the sky
A dream come true, I'll live there 'til I die
I'm asking you, to say my last goodbye
The love we knew, ain't worth another try
Save me from all the trouble and the pain
I know I'm weak but I can't face that girl again
Tell her the reasons why I can't remain
Perhaps she'll understand if you tell it to her plain
Oh, but how can words express the feel of sunlight
In the morning in the hills away from city strife
I need a country woman for my wife
I'm city born but I love the country life
For I can not be part of her "Cocktail-Generation Partner's Waltz,"
Devoid of all romance
The music plays and everyone must dance
I'm bowing out, I need a second chance
Save me from all the trouble and the pain
I know I'm weak but I can't face that girl again
Tell her the reasons why I can't remain
Perhaps she'll understand if you tell it to her plain
And if she asks you why you can tell her that I told you
That I'm tired of Castles in the Air
I've got a dream I want the world to share in castle walls
Just leave me to despair

song performed by by Don McLean
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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