Book of Love
You giggle and your white teeth show
Your eyes so bright and want that I saw
Your voice so honeyed reads for me a story
I listen in ecstasy so expectant my heart flows
Your flowery words read your heart, it's a story
I'm won by this book, my head in pillow
So sweet the lullabies of a mother's baby days
A longing with power overtaking a soul's clouds
Warm as nectar birds' nest in cold days
I'm in a fort and in comfort all in this story
Fold not the book, read it over and over, it fills my soul.
poem by Charles Jagongo Ogola
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This Is The Story
(words & music by arnold - morrow - martin)
I play the song, it was our own
Your photographs by my side
I know I cant forget you
So I dont even try
The note you left is in my hand
I read again what you say
Youre sorry but you love him
And youve both gone away
This is the story of a man
Whose world has fallen apart
And its the story
That is breaking my heart
An open fire, our favorite chair
I get a book from the shelf
But the words I am reading
Could apply to myself
This is the story of a man
Whose world has fallen apart
And its the story
That is breaking my heart
Yes, its the story that is breaking my heart
Yes, its the story that is breaking my heart
Yes, its the story that is breaking my heart
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This Is The Story (Takes 1,2)
I play the song, it was our own
Your photograph's by my side
I know I can't forget you
So I don't even try
The note you left is in my hand
I read again what you say
You're sorry but you love him
And you've both gone away
This is the story of a man
Whose world has fallen apart
And it's the story
That is breaking my heart
An open fire, our favorite chair
I get a book from the shelf
But the words I am reading
Could apply to myself
This is the story of a man
Whose world has fallen apart
And it's the story
That is breaking my heart
Yes, it's the story that is breaking my heart
Yes, it's the story that is breaking my heart
Yes, it's the story that is breaking my heart
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When we read a story, we inhabit it. The covers of the book are like a roof and four walls. What is to happen next will take place within the four walls of the story. And this is possible because the story's voice makes everything its own.
quote by John Berger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Winter Dusk
Dark frost was in the air without,
The dusk was still with cold and gloom,
When less than even a shadow came
And stood within the room.
But the three around the fire,
None turned a questioning head to look,
Still read a clear voice, on and on,
Still stooped they o'er their book.
The children watched their mother's eyes
Moving on softly line to line;
It seemed to listen too -- that shade,
Yet made no outward sign.
The fire-flames crooned a tiny song,
No cold wind moved the wintry tree;
The children both in Faerie dreamed
Beside their mother's knee.
And nearer yet that spirit drew
Above that heedless one, intent
Only on what the simple words
Of her small story meant.
No voiceless sorrow grieved her mind,
No memory her bosom stirred,
Nor dreamed she, as she read to two,
'Twas surely three who heard.
Yet when, the story done, she smiled
From face to face, serene and clear,
A love, half dead, sprang up, as she
Leaned close and drew them near.
poem by Walter de la Mare
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Bookworm
There's a story that like a dessert I love
And I enjoy every page slowly as much as I can
There's story that makes me desperate
And even my day becomes gloomy after I read
There's story that safe to be read anytime
And I don't mind if it's going up or down
There's story that could burn me to the core
And left me with desire to create another story
There's story that easily predict
And I could finish it without much thinking
There's story that has a very good cliffhanger
And I need to rush to the publisher to make it comes fast
There's story that goes like my dream
And I want to repeat over and over until I'm getting bored
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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My Book Of LIfe With Marie..Seventeen Years!
As I Turn back the pages of time with my ageing shaking hands,
Every leaf I read is a beautiful story of a magical sparkling wonderland
Laughter tears joys and the secrets we shared, a story to be untold
The best read, so perfect with many a moments, unforgettable unfold
The lovely days I recall brings many a tears of joy I just couldn’t hide
Smiling away the deepest darkest hours making it, a so joyous ride
The pleasant laughter, a gentle breeze, tenderly touching my weary heart.
An inner strength abundance of love, devotion, a miraculous work of art
A heart so dear, hands so gentle, a voice so musical, easing my hurting ears
Peace contentment the book of joy called ‘Marie and I, The Seventeen Years! ! !
with tnx to my adorable Marie..the best wherever you go in your life's journey..May you have a story book of memories filled with love and dignity...lv happy years to floow strating from this day..22nd sept 2011
poem by Shirani Ibrahim
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A book called life
You find a book. a book unopened for some time. binding worn, title aged and not legible. you open it to find it dusty and blank. it has sat untouched for a quite a while. this book is the story of you. a story not yet written, but exciting non the less. a story to be one of epic, and legend. a story to be passed down for generations. that will be stamped into the pages of history and inspire forever. we all have a story, we simply need to write it.
poem by Nick Feiner
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Warm Milk And Toast
Warmed milk sweetened with honey
toast buttered with a thin spread of jam.
A bedtime story told by my Grandpa
times of Castles and Giants, living in some Fairy Tale land.
The warmed milk would make me sleepy
the toast would fill that nightime hunger need.
Sounds of Grandpa's soft loving voice
as he would sit on my bed and read.
My Grandpa's gone so many years ago
now I am one myself.
I warm and sweeten my Granddaughters milk
and take that same book down off her shelf.
Her eyes are wide open, as she chomps away
at the toast with butter and jam.
She tells me how much she loves me so
and just how neat of a Grandpa that I am.
I see her eyes growing heavy now
as I continue to read the story.
And am proud that I'm a Grandpa
and now can read, my Grandpa's Fairy Tale Story.
poem by Linda Winchell
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To Alison Cunningham, From Her Boy
For the long nights you lay awake
And watched for my unworthy sake:
For your most comfortable hand
That led me through the uneven land:
For all the story-books you read:
For all the pains you comforted:
For all you pitied, all you bore,
In sad and happy days of yore:-
My second Mother, my first Wife,
The angel of my infant life-
From the sick child, now well and old,
Take, nurse, the little book you hold!
And grant it, Heaven, that all who read
May find as dear a nurse at need,
And every child who lists my rhyme,
In the bright, fireside, nursery clime,
May hear it in as kind a voice
As made my childish days rejoice!
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
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I dont like any of them, because they don't read the books. In Kiss Me Deadly my story is better than his story. Anthony Quinn played in The Lond Wait and he didn't read the book either.
quote by Mickey Spillane
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Storyteller's Word
In a decent book, I can lose myself,
For, at least, a good couple of hours.
A well told story, for young or old,
My mind will quite hungrily devour.
I’ve always loved a real page turner:
A story, which, is totally compelling.
Sometimes, there’s a story, true or invented,
Which, simply, deserves, and needs telling.
Sometimes, a person in a book,
To me, can feel like a true friend;
You share their life and adventures,
And feel rather sad, when it all ends.
A story can stir up a mixture of emotions:
I’ve cried tears, and gasped with surprise.
I’ve found myself completely captivated,
As a story unfolds before my very eyes.
A good story, has the ability to transport you,
To different places, and to different times.
You just never know where you may end up,
When you sit and read those immortal lines.
Stories should never be kept locked away:
With others, they should be readily shared.
There is no other past-time, known to man,
With which, reading a book, can quite compare.
Whether a story is based on a person’s life,
Or whether, it has been quite purely invented,
A story can make such an impact upon you,
That, forever, in your memory, it is cemented.
I’ve always adored a really well written story,
Regardless of, by whom, or when, it was written.
Snuggled up, with a book held in your hands,
It is so easy, to become completely smitten.
A story can make you lose all track of time,
When, in a book, you are totally immersed.
I love reading a story, and really drinking it in;
For reading books, I’ve developed a real thirst.
There are many stories, the world over,
Which, are still waiting to be heard.
Nothing on earth, is quite so powerful,
As the power of the storyteller’s word.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Ogunade
Ogunade, gun, do doe, end!
But, i am her husband;
Go, Dan, Ade, and, on, no!
Fresh out of prison! !
Like the story of the black book of love,
Like the story of the white book of peace,
Like the story of the red book of care,
Sparks!
But, i am fresh out of prison.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Book Of Life
Life is like a book
A mystery
How many chapters will I have
Will the words bring joy or saddness
Success or failure
A book with no forward
For it is written day by day
With the ending known only by one
Will it be a novel, short story
Or an never ending story known by many
Lived by few
Oh how we would like it to be a best seller,
A classic endearing to the end of time
But sorry to say for most of us
Our story will be only be known by few
I will be happy with that
As long as I don't become one of the forgotten
I believe our storys go on
For as long as someone remembers our story.
poem by David Kush
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Little Wise Pink Book.
Oh! The wise little pink book,
Which contain the wise words and pictures,
Where my love lies,
And ma heart lay its head.
How shall I forget about you?
You the mother of ma heart,
Oh! My heart soothers.
Which soothes every pimple that causes agony in ma heart.
You’re my photos album,
when I want to see ma boom,
You contain pictures of ma heart,
From head to toe,
I love you so much, little pink book.
You’re my dictionary,
Whenever I need any love word’s meaning,
Ma love encyclopedia,
To calm my psycho-phobia.
I love you little pink book,
You have been the source of my comfort,
When ma heart was in trouble,
I can’t forget about you,
Little wise pink book.
You are everything,
You are the promise we make,
A phone-family we set-up,
Oh! Little pink book,
You are the CPA of our love.
I love you little pink book.
My eyes shall not let down,
Neither will my heart fail you,
For your words pass through my eyes down to ma heart surpassing my brain,
I love you, little pink book.
My life is yours, little pink book.
poem by Constant's Laiv
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Even song
Lay away the story,--
Though the theme is sweet,
There's a lack of something yet,
Leaves it incomplete:--
There's a nameless yearning--
Strangely undefined--
For a story sweeter still
Than the written kind.
Therefore read no longer--
I've no heart to hear
But just something you make up,
O my mother dear.--
With your arms around me,
Hold me, folded-eyed,--
Only let your voice go on--
I'll be satisfied.
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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I read a book
I read a book
Not to enhance my looks
I read a book
Maybe to avoid being a crook
I read a book
Not just to learn how to cook
I read a book
To ascertain how to defend my rights
Not just to acquire knowledge
Reading a book I pledge,
Is one of the roads to the light
I read a book
To understand how a kings territory
Is defended with pieces such as the rook
I read a book
So there will be no questions asked
When I count correctly what you took
I read a book
So that I play not ignorant
Now on life I’ve a different outlook
I read a book
So if I come up with all the right answers
I will know for sure it is not merely a fluke
Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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When my soul loves your heart.....
I have your heart within me
that keeps telling me love story every night
God has given us love as the best medicine
to purify our hearts and soul with affections
When your heart and my soul touch each other
then there is no room for sadness
When my eyes close for sleep
then my soul awakes and kisses your heart
When your heart plays music with my soul
then the melodies hover like nightingales
When your heart is longing for my love
then my soul is belonging to beautiful nights
When my soul loves your heart
then its not only what your heart for
but for what my soul lives with you heart
poem by Ravi Sathasivam
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Read A Book
Und wenn ich einen Wunsch frei htte
Ich wnschte wrden wir verstehen
Alle Schatten hinter uns lassen
nur weies Licht vor uns zu sehen
No hate, no fight hearts killing
I wish no trouble anymore
There's nothing more to tell about
There's nothing left to be decided
Just read a book
So, read a book about love (reaching love)
Read a book, read a book about love
Und wenn du einen Wunsch frei httest
Ich wnschte, wrdest du verstehen
Nur weies Licht vor uns zu sehen
And if we just should be together
oh, we could feel so warm an tight
All we need is only two of us
to show the world that we've decided to
read a book
to read a book about love (reaching love) ...
Take a look about yesterday
I guess you know
that you're here to stay
Read a book, ...
Read a book, read a book about love (rep many times)
Read a book, ... (rep till fade)
song performed by by Falco
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Kawabata
No doubt
the crazy boy thinks
he's having his mother read
some sort of record
of his memories,
something that he wrote himself-
that's what he thinks
he's listening to.
His eyes sparkle
with pride.
His mother has no idea
whether or not he understands
what she's saying,
but every time
she comes to see him
she repeats
the same story,
and she gets better
and better at telling it-
it begins to seem like
she's actually reading a story
of her son's.
She remembers things
she had forgotten.
And the son's memories grow
more beautiful.
The son is drawing
the mother's story out,
helping her,
changing the story-
there's no way
of telling
whose novel it is,
whether it's the mother's
or the son's.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Why Dont You Read The Book
Dont talk to the pilot
When hes flyin
Dont smile at the soldier
Hes on parade
Dont come creeping round, youll
Catch me cryin
No more talkin bout it
Its all been said
You drawn such a fine line baby
Learnin all the rules
Why dont ya read between them sometimes
You wont look such a fool
Why dont you read the book, why dont you read the book
Why dont you read the book, why dont you read the book
Why show all your aces
To the gambler
If he calls your hand
Youre gonna lose
Dont trust first impressions
Of a stranger
Private informations
Just tellin tales
* you draw such a fine line baby
Learnin all the rules
Why dont ya read between them sometimes
You wont look such a fool
** why dont you read the book, why dont you read the book
Why dont you read the book, why dont you read the book
Repeat *
Repeat **
(written and arranged by nazareth)
Copyright 1983 fool circle limited
All rights reserved.
song performed by by Nazareth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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