At A Banquet For Professor Ludv. Kr. Daa
Youthful friends here a circle form,
Elder foes now surrender.
Feel among us in safety, warm,
Toward you our hearts are tender.
Once again on a hard-fought day
Hero-like you have led the way,
Smiting all that before you stood;-
But now be good!
With no hubbub, without champagne,
Dress-suit, and party-collar,
We would honor o'er viands plain
Grateful our 'grand old scholar'!
When all quiet are wind and wave,
Seldom we see this pilot brave;-
When storm-surges our ship might whelm,
He takes the helm!
-Takes the helm and through thick and thin
(Clear are his old eyes burning),
Steers the course with his trusty 'grin,'
Straight, where the others are turning!
Thanks gave to him I know not who,
For he scolded the skipper, too!-
Back he went to his home right soon:
We had the boon.
He has felt what it is to go
Hated, till truth gains the battle;
He has felt what it is to know
Blows that from both sides rattle.
He has felt what the cost is, so
Forward the present its path to show:
He, whose strength had such heights attained,
Stood all disdained.
Would that Norway soon grew so great
That it with justice rewarded
Heroes who its true weal create,
Who are no laggards sordid.
Shall we always so slowly crawl,
Split forever in factions small,
Idly counting each ill that ails?-
No! Set the sails!
Set the sails for the larger life,
Whereto our nation has power!
Daily life is with death but rife,
If there's not growth every hour.
Rally to war for the cause of right,
Sing 'neath the standard of honor bright,
Sail with faith in our God secure,
And strong endure
poem by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
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Norwegian seamen's song
Norwegian seamen are
A folk grown strong 'neath sail and spar;
Where boats can find a way,
The best men there are they.
On high seas or at home,
In calm or when the storm-waves comb,
To God their prayer they make,
Their lives they gladly stake.
Incessant is their strife,
They wage with death a war for life,
And dear their souls they sell
In conflicts none can tell.
All that is commonplace
In history seldom leaves its trace,
And often none is there,
The tidings home to bear.
But fishing-boats in need
Have shown so many a daring deed
Of courage fine and skill,
Though unrecorded still.
And many a seaman's head
A wreath of sea-weed wore when dead,
Whose name should shine in gold
Among great heroes bold.
Saint Olaf's Cross's praise
Would on that pilot fitly blaze
Who saved a hundred men,
And hundred once again.
To many a boy so young,
Who riding home to boat's keel clung,
His father set on board,
We honor should accord.
In Norway's mountain-coast
Our land's own mother-breast we boast,
With food for us and tears
For sons whom danger nears.
In it each deed has lot,
And there no brave son is forgot,
From Hafurfjord's great day
To the last castaway.
This each one felt and found
Who homeward came and looked around;
This each one felt who went,
In the last look he sent.
They felt the ocean o'er:
Their ships our country's fortune bore;
Honor and power it sought,-
And these the white sails brought.
Hurrah for them to-day
Who the Norwegian flag display!
Hurrah for pilots true
Who forth to meet them flew!
Hurrah for them who ply
Their fishing-boats 'twixt sea and sky!
Hurrah for all our boast,
Our skerry-skirted coast!
poem by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
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Man Sails The Deep Awhile
MAN sails the deep awhile;
Loud runs the roaring tide;
The seas are wild and wide;
O'er many a salt, o'er many a desert mile,
The unchained breakers ride,
The quivering stars beguile.
Hope bears the sole command;
Hope, with unshaken eyes,
Sees flaw and storm arise;
Hope, the good steersman, with unwearying hand,
Steers, under changing skies,
Unchanged toward the land.
O wind that bravely blows!
O hope that sails with all
Where stars and voices call!
O ship undaunted that forever goes
Where God, her admiral,
His battle signal shows!
What though the seas and wind
Far on the deep should whelm
Colours and sails and helm?
There, too, you touch that port that you designed -
There, in the mid-seas' realm,
Shall you that haven find.
Well hast thou sailed: now die,
To die is not to sleep.
Still your true course you keep,
O sailor soul, still sailing for the sky;
And fifty fathom deep
Your colours still shall fly.
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
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Norse nature
(In Ringerike During The Student Meeting Of 1869)
We wander and sing with glee
Of glorious Norway, fair to see.
Let sweetly the tones go twining
In colors so softly shining
On mountain, forest, fjord, and shore,
'Neath heaven's azure arching o'er.
The warmth of the nation's heart,
The depth, the strength, its songs impart,
Here opens its eyes to greet you,
Rejoicing just now to meet you,
And giving, grateful for the chance,
In love a self-revealing glance.
Here wakened our history first,
Here Halfdan dreamed of greatness erst,
In vision of hope beholding
The kingdom's future unfolding,
And
Nore
stood and summons gave,
While forth to conquest called the wave.
Here singing we must unroll
Of our dear land the pictured scroll!
Let calm turn to storm of wildness,
Bring might into bonds of mildness:
Then Norsemen mustering, each shall see
This is our land's whole history.
To them first our way we wing,
The hundred harbors in the spring,
Where follow fond love and yearning,
When sea-ward the ships are turning.
For Norway's weal pure prayers exhale
From sixty thousand men that sail.
See sloping the skerried coasts,
With gulls and whales and fishing-posts,
And vessels in shelter riding,
While boats o'er the sea are gliding,
And nets in fjord and seines in sound,
And white with spawn the ocean's ground.
See Lofoten's tumult grand,
Where tow'ring cliffs in ocean stand,
Whose summits the fogs are cleaving,
Beneath them the surges heaving,
And all is darkness, mystery, dread,
But 'mid the tumult sails are spread.
Here ships of the Arctic sea;
Through snow and gloom their course must be;
Commands from the masthead falling
The boats toward the ice are calling;
And shot on shot and seal on seal,
And souls and bodies strong as steel.
On mountains we now shall guest,
When eventide to all brings rest,
In dairy on highland meadow,
On hay-field 'neath slanting shadow,
While to the alphorn's tender tone
Great Nature's voice responds alone.
But quickly we must away,
If a11 the land we would survey,-
The mines of our metal treasures,
The hills of our hunters' pleasures,
The foam-white river's rush and noise,
The timber-driver's foot-sure poise.
Returning, we linger here,
These valleys broad to us are dear,
Whose men in their faithful living
To Norway are honor giving;
Their fathers, strong in brain and brawn,
Lent luster to our morning-dawn.
We wander and sing with glee
Of glorious Norway fair to see.
Our present to labor binds us,
Each how of the past reminds us,
Our future shall be sure and bright,
As God we trust and do the right.
poem by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
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She is and Always will be my Hero
When I think of my favorite song, it is Hero, by Mariah Carey.
To me, the hero inside me is my Mother, because when I feel
I am facing the world alone, she is always there.
Hero
As I have traveled this long road of life,
There is only one person in my life
Who I could really depend upon
To make me see right from wrong;
She would always make me see
The real me and for that I thank her.
She taught me that all I had to do
Was to look inside to find my true self;
I never really knew what she meant,
But as I get older...
I have begun to understand.
The first time I heard this song
My Mom came to my mind
Because she is my true hero;
She's been there for me through it all,
The good and the not so good times.
She always told me that
The sorrows that I felt
Would soon subside and that
True happiness would find
Its way back to my heart.
And then my hero comes along,
It was my mother all along,
She gave me strength to carry on,
Helped me cast my fears away
When I felt all hope was gone.
She said, 'Just look inside yourself And you will see a better you.'
She has always stood beside me
In everything I've had to do,
Be it right or be it wrong,
She's been there to see me through.
She tells me, search within my self
And a hero I would find;
When no one else reached out to help,
My Mom would always lend a hand
To guide me down the right path.
When that hero comes along,
I have strength to carry on,
And my fears are cast aside
Because I know I can survive
With her strength to carry me
Through life's dark and stormy sea.
So when I feel all hope is gone
I can finally see the truth
And that is that a hero lies in me,
Because you, Mom, were there to guide me through.
Lord knows my dreams have often been Hard to realize, but then
She would always to me say,
Don't let them take your dreams away,
Hold on to them oh so tight
For tomorrow always comes, in time.
You'll find a way to make your dreams come true
So as I sit here writing, Mom, I want to thank you
For all the times you have been there
To pick up the pieces of my broken spirit,
To help mend what needed mending,
And most of all for your love,
You see you are the true HERO in my life.
By MELISSIA ANN SENTER
poem by Melissia Ann Senter
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Invicto
The coldest wind which fills my sails
Sent colder chills throughout my spine
As now the rigging grimly wails
That mast seems willing to recline
The taut sinews binding my bones
I felt tighten into a knot
We're on this strait, that chart disowns
And even God may have forgot
The land seemed farther than it's been
Farther than dawn which is to break
In doomed contest lie in between
Me and my ship, should one be weak
My ship! Fail not ahead of me
We're not to know how deep these graves
Rally your strength, your strength that be
For I've resolved to ride the waves!
Should Fate prevail and sound our call
Mark that we've fought, and fought so well
Against great waves, we don't feel small
Nary we've bent our knees to knell!
poem by Reyvrex Questor Reyes
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Lost in the Prairie
In one of fhe States of America, some years ago,
There suddenly came on a violent storm of snow,
Which was nearly the death of a party of workmen,
Who had finished their day's work - nine or ten of them.
The distance was nearly twenty miles to their camp,
And with the thick falling snow their clothes felt damp,
As they set out for their camp, which was in a large grove,
And to reach it, manfully against the storm they strove.
The wind blew very hard, and the snow was falling fast,
Still, they plodded on, but felt a little downcast,
And the snow fell so fast they could scarcely see,
And they began to think they were lost on the wild prairie.
And they suddenly noticed marks of footsteps in the snow,
Which they found were their own tracks, as onward they did go,
Then they knew they were lost on the great prairie,
And what could they do in such a fearful extremity?
Then their hearts began to sink with woe,
In dread of having to pass the night in the snow,
And they cried, "Oh, God help us to find our way,
Or else we are lost on the lonely prairie."
And while they stood shivering with the cold,
One of the party a particular horse did behold,
Which was known by the name of Old Jack,
So to take off his bridle they were not slack.
When the horse was let free he threw up his head and tail,
Which seemed to say, "Follow ms, and ye will not fail.
So come on, boys, and follow me,
And I'll guide ye home safely."
And they cried, " Old Jack can show us the way,
So let's follow his tracks without dismay";
And with the falling snow they were chilled to the bone,
But the horse seemed to say, "I'll show ye home."
And at last they gave a shout of delight
When they saw their camp fire burning bright,
Which was to them a cheerful sight,
And they caressed Old Jack for guiding them home that night.
And they felt thankful to God for their safety,
And they danced around Old Jack with their hearts full of glee,
And Old Jack became a favourite from that day,
Because he saved them from being lost on the wild prairie.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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Sail Away
He stood on the deck,
the sun, shining on his face.
The sails billowed as they took up the force of the wind,
driving the boat forward.
He felt a lifting of his spirits, a freedom
he hadn't felt for a long, long time.
All this space.
The sea, and the sky.
Unbelievable, in their dimensions.
To sail away, to be reborn,
perhaps in another time, another world.
'What do you think of her, Sir'?
The voice brought him back to reality.
'Oh! Very nice indeed, a beautiful craft'.
'Any thoughts on a purchase, Sir'?
'Thoughts' Yes', he answered,
'But cost wise, she's a little beyond my pocket'.
'Well Sir. Perhaps we could interest you
in something a little smaller'.
'Perhaps', was his reply,
'How about a canoe'!
poem by Ernestine Northover
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The Flying Dutchman
The blue water stretches
as far as visibility allows to see
and there’s fog
rising white before the storm
out of the water.
The dusk becomes grey
and the sea from blue to dark black
while the night
darker than ink, as only companion
folds over the old ancient ship.
It’s Van der Decken standing as tiller man
behind the big wheel
and forever he steers the ship
on the journey that she goes.
Always cursing
his loud voice thunders
like lightning falling around him
for sailors to tend the sails right
and sails are hoisted crunching, groaning and trembling
with strong ropes
and the ship jumps
over the smashing waves.
Like a phantom
the Flying Dutchman appears
with white sails like a wraith
over the horizon
where it sails before a storm with speed.
The ship becomes lager
as the storm wind
brings her closer
and you hear her creak
against the power of the wind.
There’s thunder bolts blinding suddenly
and sea birds flies screeching
out in front of her,
while Van der Decken’s skeleton
drills his men powerless
to set the sails right
that is vibrating against the wind.
“How long still Lord, ”
echoes against the sea and sky,
without a answer
ever coming
and suddenly the ship is gone
as if it disappeared in the naught.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Like A Rock
Words and music by bob seger
Stood there boldly
Sweatin in the sun
Felt like a million
Felt like number one
The height of summer
Id never felt that strong
Like a rock
I was eighteen
Didnt have a care
Working for peanuts
Not a dime to spare
But I was lean and
Solid everywhere
Like a rock
My hands were steady
My eyes were clear and bright
My walk had purpose
My steps were quick and light
And I held firmly
To what I felt was right
Like a rock
Like a rock, I was strong as I could be
Like a rock, nothin ever got to me
Like a rock, I was something to see
Like a rock
And I stood arrow straight
Unencumbered by the weight
Of all these hustlers and their schemes
I stood proud, I stood tall
High above it all
I still believed in my dreams
Twenty years now
Whered they go?
Twenty years
I dont know
Sit and I wonder sometimes
Where theyve gone
And sometimes late at night
When Im bathed in the firelight
The moon comes callin a ghostly white
And I recall
Recall
Like a rock. standin arrow straight
Like a rock, chargin from the gate
Like a rock, carryin the weight
Like a rock
Lihe a rock, the sun upon my skin
Like a rock, hard against the wind
Like a rock, I see myself again
Like a rock
song performed by by Bob Seger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Since I Have Felt The Sense Of Death
Since I have felt the sense of death,
Since I have borne its dread, its fear—
Oh, how my life has grown more dear
Since I have felt the sense of death!
Sorrows are good, and cares are small,
Since I have known the loss of all.
Since I have felt the sense of death,
And death forever at my side—
Oh, how the world has opened wide
Since I have felt the sense of death!
My hours are jewels that I spend,
For I have seen the hours end.
Since I have felt the sense of death,
Since I have looked on that black night—
My inmost brain is fierce with light
Since I have felt the sense of death.
O dark, that made my eyes to see!
O death, that gave my life to me!
poem by Helen Hoyt
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King frederik the seventh
Our King is bereft of a trusty friend!
And in dismay
We lower our banners and sad attend
On his burial day.
But Denmark, in sorrow most deep thou waitest,
For fallen the life that was warmest, greatest,
And fallen the tower
Of mightiest power.
Bewailing the death of their kingly chief,
Men voice their grief.
For Denmark's salvation the man was born
Who now is dead.
When banished in youth from the court in scorn,
To his people he fled.
There throve he right well, there grew he together
With peasants and sailors in foul and fair weather,
While fullness of living
Its schooling was giving;
When ready for Denmark was laid the snare,
Then he was there!
Now soon it was plain, he was peasant-skulled
For their tricks; and hence
The traitors' shrewd schemings were all annulled
By his bit of sense.
He knew but one thing;-what his people thought them,
And therefore in danger he freedom brought them.
The whole was his vision,
He would no scission;
His words were but few, and of these the key:
'It shall not be!'
He stood by the helm like a sailor good,
In no storm remiss;
Of praise the tribute he never would,
But he shall have
this
!
The ship to the North he unswerving directed,-
In storm or in fog, exposed or protected;-
And fear allaying,
All folk were saying:
'He isn't so stupid as people tell,
For all goes well!'
'On deck every man!' was his last command,
'There's storm again!'
When answered the cry from the mast-head: 'Land!'
Oh, then, just then,
Were loosed from the helm the true hands that were steering,
In death he sank down, while the ship began veering-
No, never veering!
To the course adhering!
Now, Denmark, united, with all thy force
Hold straight his course!
He made it his honor, in line to stand,
No rank to know;
But shoulder to shoulder to lend a hand,
And pride forego.
They gather now fruit of his faithful training:
Well drilled, every man at his post is straining.
The course is steady,
For tried and ready
Is many a helmsman, and all their will
Is 'Northward still!'
Naught else can they do now, but with good cheer
Hold out they must,
Stand guard in the darkness and have no fear,
In God their trust.
It is sultry and silent, and yearning in sorrow
All breathless they listen and wait for the morrow,-
'T is time for waiting,
Till, night abating,
The eastern sky reddens and bright dawn speeds
The day of deeds!
poem by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
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Sail On
Sail on, down the line
About half a mile or so
And I dont really wanna know ah
Where youre going
Maybe once or twice you see
Time after time I tried
Hold on to what we got
But now youre going
And I dont mind
About the things youre gonna say
Lord, I gave all my money and my time
I know its a shame
But Im giving you back your name
Guess Ill be on my way
I wont be back to stay
I guess Ill move along
Im looking for a good time
Sail on down the line
Aint it funny how the time can go
All my friends say they told me so
But it doesnt matter
It was plain to see
That a small town boy like me
Just I wasnt your cup of tea
I was wishful thinking
I gave you my heart
And I tried ot make you happy
And you gave me nothing in return
You know it aint so hard to say
Would you please just go away
Ive thrown away the blues
Im tired of being used
I want everyone to know
Im looking for a good time
Good time
Sail on honey
Good times never felt so good
Sail on honey
Good times never felt so good
Sail on sugar
Good times never felt so good
Sail on
song performed by by Lionel Richie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Casabianca
The boy stood on the burning deck
Whence all but he had fled;
The flame that lit the battle's wreck
Shone round him o'er the dead.
Yet beautiful and bright he stood,
As born to rule the storm;
A creature of heroic blood,
A proud, though childlike form.
The flames roll'd on...he would not go
Without his father's word;
That father, faint in death below,
His voice no longer heard.
He call'd aloud..."Say, father,say
If yet my task is done!"
He knew not that the chieftain lay
Unconscious of his son.
"Speak, father!" once again he cried
"If I may yet be gone!"
And but the booming shots replied,
And fast the flames roll'd on.
Upon his brow he felt their breath,
And in his waving hair,
And looked from that lone post of death,
In still yet brave despair;
And shouted but one more aloud,
"My father, must I stay?"
While o'er him fast, through sail and shroud
The wreathing fires made way,
They wrapt the ship in splendour wild,
They caught the flag on high,
And stream'd above the gallant child,
Like banners in the sky.
There came a burst of thunder sound...
The boy-oh! where was he?
Ask of the winds that far around
With fragments strewed the sea.
With mast, and helm, and pennon fair,
That well had borne their part;
But the noblest thing which perished there
Was that young faithful heart.
poem by Felicia Dorothea Hemans
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Windy night
The wind blows tonight
My lover has been and gone
The warmth he gave me
Still deep inside
The wind blows tonight
I hear the different sounds it makes
As i make love
As i kiss
As i come
With such force
I am swept away
Away to the place
That only you can take me
Your touch melts my skin
And soothes my soul
I receive your tenderness
As the wind blows
Through airpockets
Whipping sounds
As you thrust into me
What are you thinking
As you make love to me?
You are so silent
But your kisses say much
Your body responds to my touch
I moan as i watch your pupils dilate
The wind blows hard tonight
Bathing with you
As the wind blew outside
I allowed you to see me
I did not run
I did not hide
I was present
I let go of memories
As i breathed
I was with you
What did you see?
As i looked into your eyes
And felt the water swirling around my back
What did you feel?
As i washed
Your back your belly your cock
As the wind blew outside
Tonight i feel many emotions
Wild restless
Yet deep within
There is a contentment
A knowing
That i am loved
The wind blows outside
But i am warm
Change is coming
Spring whispers to me
And promises many beautiful moments
My lover nibbbling my ear
Kissing my neck
Licking me until i come
I want to give myself
I want to merge
And abandon single life
To be with you
But its not time
For me or for you
The wind blows tonight
I ask that it takes all the misery
I have felt in my life
And transforms it
Allowing new reflections
I see a new image of myself
A gentle me
Passionate
Tender
Soft
Yielding
Dangerously feminine
No anger in this mirror image
Or competitiveness
No jealousy
Or insecurity
No rage
I see
A woman
At the beginning
Of something wonderful
The wind blows tonight
And i am released
Of all that has been
And all that has not
And all that is yet to be.
16th august 2006
poem by Black Panther Eyes Eastick
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Going To Paris
We are going to paris
In a ship with red sails
As the storm gathers slowly
We eat fishheads and snails
The mate jumps up, throws down a line
To a man overboard for the ninetieth time
And then he says with a wink
Sometimes I think
Ive been doing this forever!
We are going to paris
In a ship called the ? ?
There are signs in the sky at night
That the captain says hes seen
I keep books under my pillow
And read them before I sleep
Strange places I go to,
Strange companies I keep
We are going to paris
We are one and thirty strong
I can feel it in the air
Well be there before long
The wind has come
Like a man insane, insane
We are going to paris
It rains and it rains
We are going to paris
In a ship with red sails
We are going to paris
In a ship with red sails
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Sculptor Borch
(On his fiftieth birthday)
With friends you stalwart stand and fair,
To-day of fifty years the heir;
The past your works rejoicing praise,
But forward goes your gaze.
Your childlike faith, your spirit true,
Your hand that never weary grew,
A home's sweet music, love of wife,
Make ever young your life.
You dared believe with heart alive
That here in Norway art can thrive.
You forced the hardness of our stones
To harmony of tones.
You laid our wild world's secrets bare
And caught 'The Hunter' near the lair.
Our nation's moods, of beauty born,
Your 'Girl with Eggs' adorn.
As o'er a slope's snow-covered brow
A youth came swiftly flying now,
You saw him, raised your hand, and lo!
He stood there, chiseled snow.
But your 'Ski-runner's' courage good,
It was your own, when forth you stood
Art's champion by the world unawed,
And with your faith in God.
You won your victory supreme
Through rock-like faith and will's full stream
While with unnumbered hours of rest
Your love has others blessed.
Were all now here from west and east
Whose hearts you own, oh, what a feast!
From Akershus the convicts e'en
Would bear a freeman's mien.
Now we whose lives with good you filled
For you to-day a palace build,
On heights of heart's-ease lifting square
Its golden tower of prayer.
In peace you oft shall dwell in it,
Whene'er you need to rest a bit,
And feel through them who hold you dear
Yourself to heaven near.
Long since our country to you gave
The meed of thanks that most you crave;
It gave a maid with golden hair,
Its springtime's image fair.
She came from where the fairies dwell,
With nixie's charm and wood-nymph's spell,
With peace all holy, sweet, and calm,
To sing of life the psalm.
So may your life yet long endure
To light our gland, your home secure!
May all that from your heart you gave,
Still blossom on your grave!
May God's protecting mercy hold
Your spirit ever fresh and bold,-
May He to genius oft impart
Just such a mind and heart!
poem by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
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Kittie’s Toys
A CHILD'S SONG
[WRITTEN FOR KATHLEEN]
I wish I had a soldier, a soldier, a soldier,
I wish I had a soldier to fight for love of me
Marie has a soldier, a soldier, a soldier,
Marie has a soldier, a gallant man is he.
I wish I had a bright flag, a gay flag, a dear flag,
I would love a fair flag to fly in liberty,
Gretchen has a big flag, a brave flag, a strong flag,
Gretchen has a fine flag that floats all high and free.
I wish I had a small ship, a strong ship, a good ship,
I would love a trim ship to sail upon the sea.
Johnny has a big ship, a grey ship, a grand ship,
Johnny took my small ship with all his big navie.
I wish I had a penny, a penny, a penny,
I wish I had a penny that all belonged to me,
I would build a fair house, a great house, a strong house,
I would make one grand house for all the world to see.
But Johnny stole my penny, my penny, my penny,
And Johnny took my bright flag that floated fair and free,
Then Johnny had my small ship, my trim ship, my good ship,
And Johnny broke my soldier that fought for liberty.
Now John would be my soldier, my soldier, my soldier,
But John he is a greedy boy, a selfish boy is he;
And Johnny beats the wee ones, the small ones, the weak ones,
He takes their playthings from them in the name of liberty.
When Johnny gets a whacking, a whacking, a whacking,
When Johnny gets a whacking, I think he'll let me be,
And I shall have my penny, my penny, my penny,
And I shall buy a bright flag to wave in victory.
poem by Dora Sigerson Shorter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Finding Ashley
There was a girl that I knew well,
And where she went I can not tell,
A bright face and humor great,
I loved her every trait,
Though I paid her no attention,
I’d buy her back at any pention,
I’ve looked for her everywhere,
That eight year old without a care,
Now I’m lonely and going astray,
I guess she felt hated and just ran away,
Someone said they saw her grin, from
Somewhere deep within,
Then I new,
What I had to do,
And through my tears and all of my fears,
I stood the storm of life,
Even through the pain and strife,
And when I looked at my reflection,
I saw that girl and her effection,
It was hard but now I see,
That blond haired blue eyed girl was me,
Spirit Broken but not gone,
I had another chance to make her strong,
Even if the journey is long,
We are friends until the end,
And she is not the same,
Now I’ve given her a name,
Still a girl shining like a pearl,
I love her,
And she loves me,
And together we make Ashley
poem by Ashley Seymour
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Song
WHEN the warrior returns, from the battle afar,
To the home and the country he nobly defended,
O! warm be the welcome to gladden his ear,
And loud be the joy that his perils are ended:
In the full tide of song let his fame roll along,
To the feast-flowing board let us gratefully throng,
Where, mixed with the olive, the laurel shall wave,
And form a bright wreath for the brows of the brave.
Columbians! a band of your brothers behold,
Who claim the reward of your hearts' warm emotion,
When your cause, when your honor, urged onward the bold,
In vain frowned the desert, in vain raged the ocean:
To a far distant shore, to the battle's wild roar,
They rushed, your fair fame and your rights to secure:
Then, mixed with the olive, the laurel shall wave,
And form a bright wreath for the brows of the brave.
In the conflict resistless, each toil they endured,
'Till their foes fled dismayed from the war's desolation:
And pale beamed the Crescent, its splendor obscured
By the light of the Star Spangled flag of our nation.
Where each radiant star gleamed a meteor of war,
And the turbaned heads bowed to its terrible glare,
Now, mixed with the olive, the laurel shall wave,
And form a bright wreath for the brows of the brave.
Our fathers, who stand on the summit of fame,
Shall exultingly hear of their sons the proud story:
How their young bosoms glow'd with the patriot flame,
How they fought, how they fell, in the blaze of their glory.
How triumphant they rode o'er the wondering flood,
And stained the blue waters with infidel blood;
How, mixed with the olive, the laurel did wave,
And formed a bright wreath for the brows of the brave.
Then welcome the warrior returned from afar
To the home and the country he nobly defended:
Let the thanks due to valor now gladden his ear,
And loud be the joy that his perils are ended.
In the full tide of song let his fame roll along,
To the feast-flowing board let us gratefully throng,
Where, mixed with the olive, the laurel shall wave,
And form a bright wreath for the brows of the brave.
poem by Francis Scott Key
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Red Sails
Feel a bit roughed up, feel a bit frightened
Nearly pin it down some time
Red sail action wake up in the wrong town
Boy, I really get around
Thunder ocean
Thunder ocean
Red sails take me, make me sail along
Red sails, and a mast so tall
Red sail
Red sail
Do you remember we another person
Green and black and red and so scared
Graffiti on the wall kept us all in tune
Bringing us all back home
Red sails
Thunder ocean
Red sails
Sailor cant dance like you, ooh, yooou
Ahh, red sail
Red sail action
Red sail
Some reaction
Action boy seen living under neon
Struggle with a foreign tongue
Red sails make him strong
Action make him sail along
Life stands still and stares
The hinterland, the hinterland
Were gonna sail to the hinterland
And its far far, far far far, far far far away
Its a far far, far far far, fa da, da da da
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Ooooooo
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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