Tell Me Dear
Tell me dear
Your soft voice
Husky and honeyed
Shall all be mine
Tell me
Your eyes
Like golden pearls
In glasses of milk, be mine
Tell me
That the stars
Ever and ever be witness,
Union, my heart yearns
Dear, tell me this
Bore hole its waters
Our thirst it shall
Quench, ever and ever in bliss.
poem by Charles Jagongo Ogola
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Related quotes
Stay With Me (o' Dear Heart Of Mine)
stay with me
o' dear heart
live with me
my soulheart
come with me
sit with me
talk with me
sing with me
dream with me
o' dear heart of mine
kneel with me
feel with me
smile a joy with me
pain a tear with me
frown with me
but come with me
and stay with thee
dance with me
chance with me
cleanse my heart
and stay with me
o' dear heart of mine
plan with me
journey with me
run with me
walk with me
o' dear heart of mine
brand with me
trend with me
trek with me
pray with me
thirst with me
quench with me
o' dear heart of mine
deal with me
seal with me
not steal with me
but steel with me
care with me
tenderly, humbly
o' dear heart of mine
friend with me
blend with me
mend with me
bend with me
nod with me
unto lord with me
come on board with me
o' dear heart of mine
fear not with me
as far as i see
a life to be
with you and me
o' dear heart of mine
corn with me
form with me
shape with me
tape with me
face with me
race with me
sense with me
nurse with me
o' dear heart of mine
nap with me
not a trap with me
this time
o' dear soul of mine
proud is me
rock with me
my heart
o' dear heart
of mine
map with me
wap with me
come with me
alone with me
stare with me
not to sick me
nor seek me
but stay with me
o' dear heart of mine
cross with me
boss with me
sail with me
rail with me
if i cry
cry with me
when i die
die with me
o' dear heart of mine
cold with me
fold with thee
rainbow with me
shine with me
rise with me
fall with me
stay with me
o' dear heart of mine
share
and care
with thee
o' dear heart of thine
**stay with me o' dear heart of mine** january 2012 ebook
(r) opn
(c) 09.01.2012
2159hrs
***ntema's unique poetry (nup)
(p) all rights of this piece are those of the poet.
poem by Onalethuso Petruss Ntema
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African Touch and Russian Cure
Do you have sense my dear wench?
You shouldn't reach me soon to drench
in destitute situations dire.
A leap off Africa from mire
isn't fair the old man's hands to clench.
The pedicurists my heart wrench!
your touch pushes me in a trench
and kisses me to fall in fire.
Do you have sense my dear?
A manicurist to retrench
from her land yearns, and to avenge
poverty, likes me to hire.
Tattooists too, to me wire.
The maids mail me my thirst to quench.
Do you have sense my dear?
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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Dear Heart Of Mine
Dear heart of mine
have you become like me?
Lost and forlorn in reverie?
Have you forgotten all the nights
when your rapid beats were felt?
I have not forgotten his tender touch
that made me want to melt.
Dear heart of mine
what's to become of you and I?
Now so somber,
before so high.
Is there a time in our future
where hope won't die?
You must help me to forget
and to say goodbye.
Dear heart, dear heart please try.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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To Mary In Summer
LAY your head here, Mary,
Lay your head here,
While the blown grass, Mary,
With timid voice and wary,
Sings in your ear:—
The grass which round us, Mary,
Shuts like a nest;
By your dear limbs, dear Mary,
Lighter than limbs of Faery,
Daintily press'd.
Back with it all though, Mary,
Back and aside;
The wind comes this way, Mary,
And here the trees are airy
And the skies are wide.
What do your eyes fear, Mary,
So grave and soft?
I love to see them, Mary,
In whimsical vagary
Lifted aloft.
Mary, Mary, Mary,
Laugh in my face:
You know now, my own Mary,
No eyes can laugh so rarely
Or grant such grace.
Your cheek is pale now, Mary,
And red, by turns.
Why should the hand be chary
Of that to give which, Mary,
The heart so yearns?
Give me your hand, ah Mary,
Give me your hand:
In city or in prairie
There is none kinder, Mary,
From land to land.
Your lips to my lips, Mary,
Your lips to mine:
High up in Hebe's dairy
No milk so sweet, my Mary,
On earth no wine.
Lay your head here, Mary,
Lay your head here;
While my heart now, Mary,
The pleasant tune to vary,
Beats in your ear.
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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Kiss Me Dear
Kiss me dear kiss with softly soft*
Kiss me dear kiss with your desire*
Kiss me dear kiss with a little bite*
Kiss me dear kiss with your heart*
Kiss me dear kiss with your warm hug*
Kiss me dear kiss with your smooth lips*
Kiss me dear kiss with your hopes*
Kiss me dear kiss with your pray*
Kiss me dear kiss with your honestly*
Kiss me dear kiss with your loves*
Kiss me dear kiss with your happiness*
Kiss me dear kiss with happily*
Kiss me dear kiss with heartbeat*
Kiss me dear kiss with really*
Kiss me dear kiss with admirable*
Kiss me dear kiss with quietly*
Kiss me dear kiss with realy on*
Kiss me dear kiss with require*
Kiss me dear kiss me now and forevermore*
I'need you for strong standing with me**
Broken by Fractional Looks..!
Your fractional looks
Fractures my heart.
Your honeyed voice
Inflame my lust!
Your dove-like steps
Crush my reason!
O Best Ever Creation!
None but you
Can quench my thirst!
poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
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Premonition
DEAR heart, good-night!
Nay, list awhile that sweet voice singing
When the world is all so bright,
And the sound of song sets the heart a-ringing,
Oh, love, it is not right—
Not then to say, 'Good-night.'
Dear heart, good-night!
The late winds in the lake weeds shiver,
And the spray flies cold and white.
And the voice that sings gives a telltale quiver —
'Ah, yes, the world is bright,
But, dearest heart, good-night!'
Dear heart, good-night!
And do not longer seek to hold me!
For my soul is in affright
As the fearful glooms in their pall enfold me.
See him who sang how white
And still; so, dear, good-night.
Dear heart, good-night!
Thy hand I'll press no more forever,
And mine eyes shall lose the light;
For the great white wraith by the winding river
Shall check my steps with might.
So, dear, good-night, good-night!
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Dear Diary
Dear Diary....
this heart of mine is been confused
if it is love, infatuation or crush
he always in my thoughts all day and night
that keeps lingering on my mind
Dear diary....
here I’ am smiling all alone
and thinking him all day long
and see him face closer to mine
walking hand and hand
talking laughing and feeling
Dear diary.....
I don’t know what to do?
Tell me where do I start
I miss him each day of my life
can't explain this feeling I have
if it is madness... when it will last?
Dear diary....
I wonder what would happen next?
Song of my heart will be please
this feeling soon will reveal
a love I have been hidden and care about
Dear diary... tell me now
poem by Cheryl Aldea
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My Water Fountain
I drank glasses of water,
I drank water from office coolers.
Many people drank from water fountains.
I thought my thirst I could slake,
If I drank water from a cool lake.
Then I would would drink cold water,
From gushing waterfalls.
But much to my surprise,
I thirsted for all of Earth's water.
I couldn't fathom my inner self,
About slaking my thirst insatiable.
I couldn't come to grips about,
The deep waters of my life.
Was it my body? Or was it my soul?
Then I very quickly learned,
That this thirst for water that was burning in me,
Was my unending thirst for love
That everybody yearns for.
And everybody needs.
In quantities of glasses, coolers, waterfalls,
Lakes, oceans and seas.
poem by Vera Sidhwa
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Promise This—When You be Dying
648
Promise This—When You be Dying—
Some shall summon Me—
Mine belong Your latest Sighing—
Mine—to Belt Your Eye—
Not with Coins—though they be Minted
From an Emperor's Hand—
Be my lips—the only Buckle
Your low Eyes—demand—
Mine to stay—when all have wandered—
To devise once more
If the Life be too surrendered—
Life of Mine—restore—
Poured like this—My Whole Libation—
Just that You should see
Bliss of Death—Life's Bliss extol thro'
Imitating You—
Mine—to guard Your Narrow Precinct—
To seduce the Sun
Longest on Your South, to linger,
Largest Dews of Morn
To demand, in Your low favor
Lest the Jealous Grass
Greener lean—Or fonder cluster
Round some other face—
Mine to supplicate Madonna—
If Madonna be
Could behold so far a Creature—
Christ—omitted—Me—
Just to follow Your dear future—
Ne'er so far behind—
For My Heaven—
Had I not been
Most enough—denied?
poem by Emily Dickinson
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My Heart at Your Heart
My heart takes a tour at your heart.
Its beat of yours plays dear to mine,
That the warmth it shows did impart
Intimacy that comes so fine,
Thrusting my heart's brightness to start
Glorious harmony to shine.
How your heart thrills mine like an art
With a taste that is so divine.
That is why my heart had to chart
Course, with poise that love did design,
Towards your heart that had mine cart
Your heart's softness what mine did pine.
poem by Obinna Kenechukwu Eruchie
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Betrothal
Both your hands? . . . What mean they, dear?
I, unworthy,— dare I claim you?
Then, against the world, I hold you:
Mine—forever mine!
Men have waked from dreams of joy:
Teach me to believe this rapture!
Lift your eyes! O my beloved,
Let me read your heart!
Is it true? . . . Ah, me! those eyes!
How divinely kind!—how tender!
Doubt itself could not distrust them,
Or resist their light!
Dear, without you, I have been
Poorer than the humblest beggar
Who against your door at nightfall
Kneeling, asked for bread:
I have gazed upon your face
And have felt such fear oppress me
That I trembled. From this moment,
Nothing fear I more!
For whatever perils come,
Nothing henceforth can divide us;
Neither follies nor ambitions—
Neither joys nor tears:
Never can you go so far
That my love shall fail to find you;
Seeking ever to deserve you,
Upward striving still;
And though seas should lie between,
I shall feel that you are near me:
In the twilight and night-season
I shall hear your voice.
poem by Florence Earle Coates from Mine and Thine (1904)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Twenty-Third Psalm
My Shepherd is the Lord my God,--
There is no want I know;
His flock He leads in verdant meads,
Where tranquil waters flow.
He doth restore my fainting soul
With His divine caress,
And, when I stray, He points the way
To paths of righteousness.
Yea, though I walk the vale of death,
What evil shall I fear?
Thy staff and rod are mine, O God,
And Thou, my Shepherd, near!
Mine enemies behold the feast
Which my dear Lord hath spread;
And, lo! my cup He filleth up,
With oil anoints my head!
Goodness and mercy shall be mine
Unto my dying day;
Then will I bide at His dear side
Forever and for aye!
poem by Eugene Field
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You'll Be Mine
Well darling all the night
You'll be mine and i know
You'll be mine
Till you die
You'll be mine
And so all the night
You'll be mine
You'll be mine
And the stars
Always shine
You'll be mine
Oh
My darling, when you burnt
That toast the other morning
I, i looked into you eyes and
I could see that national health eyeball
And i love you, like i've never done,
Like i've never done before!
Oh darling
In your eyes
And you'll be mine
You will be mine
You'll be mine
At the star and so
You'll be mine
song performed by by Beatles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hands
The little hands too soft and white
To have known more laborious hours
Than those which die upon a night
Of kindling wine and fading flowers;
The little hands that I have kissed,
Finger by finger, to the tips,
And delicately about each wrist
Have set a bracelet with my lips;
Dear soft white little morbid hands,
Mine all one night, with what delight
Shall I recall in other lands,
Dear hands, that you were mine one night!
poem by Arthur Symons
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With Trumpet and Drum
With big tin trumpet and little red drum,
Marching like soldiers, the children come!
It 's this way and that way they circle and file---
My! but that music of theirs is fine!
This way and that way, and after a while
They march straight into this heart of mine!
A sturdy old heart, but it has to succumb
To the blare of that trumpet and beat of that drum!
Come on, little people, from cot and from hall---
This heart it hath welcome and room for you all!
It will sing you its songs and warm you with love,
As your dear little arms with my arms intertwine;
It will rock you away to the dreamland above---
Oh, a jolly old heart is this old heart of mine,
And jollier still is it bound to become
When you blow that big trumpet and beat that red drum!
So come; though I see not his dear little face
And hear not his voice in this jubilant place,
I know he were happy to bid me enshrine
His memory deep in my heart with your play---
Ah me! but a love that is sweeter than mine
Holdeth my boy in its keeping to-day!
And my heart it is lonely---so, little folk, come,
March in and make merry with trumpet and drum!
poem by Eugene Field
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Sonnet 46
Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war,
How to divide the conquest of thy sight;
Mine eye my heart thy picture's sight would bar,
My heart mine eye the freedom of that right.
My heart doth plead that thou in him dost lie,
A closet never pierced with crystal eyes,
But the defendant doth that plea deny,
And says in him thy fair appearance lies.
To 'cide this title is impannelled
A quest of thoughts, all tenants to the heart;
And by their verdict is determined
The clear eye's moiety, and the dear heart's part:
As thus: mine eye's due is thine outward part,
And my heart's right, thine inward love of heart.
poem by William Shakespeare from Sonnets (1609)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Still Dear Heart
When that touch came to claim I let it.
I'd let it still Dear Heart.
But it's a still, still dear heart.
It doesn't beat for me.
Let my heart beat yours back to the pulse it had once
in response to mine.
If not, then not.
At least...
This once dear heart has tried.
poem by Meli Secret
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Magnificat
THIS is Christ's birthday: long ago
He lay upon His Mother's knee,
Who kissed and blessed Him soft and low--
God's gift to her, as you to me.
My baby dear, my little one,
The love that rocks this cradling breast
Is such as Mary gave her Son:
She was more honoured, not more blest.
He smiled as you smile: not more sweet
Than your eyes were those eyes of His,
And just such little hands and feet
As yours Our Lady used to kiss.
The world's desire that Mother bore:
She held a King upon her knee:
O King of all my world, and more
Than all the world's desire to me!
I thank God on the Christmas morn,
For He has given me all things good:
This body which a child has borne,
This breast, made holy for his food.
High in high heaven Our Lady's throne
Beside her Son's stands up apart:
I sit on heaven's steps alone
And hold my king against my heart.
Across dark depths she hears your cry;
She sees your smile, through worlds of blue
Who was a mother, even as I,
And loved her Child, as I love you.
And to her heart my babe is dear,
Because she bore the Babe Divine,
And all my soul to hers draws near,
And loves Him for the sake of mine!
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Dear Valentine
Dear valentine
Dear friend
Tonight we dine
Once again
Dear valentine
Dear lover
The stars will shine
Undercover
Dear valentine
Dear heart
Just like sunshine
So together, but apart...
poem by Gloraly Gomez
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