The Young Letter Writer
Dear Sir, Dear Madam, or Dear Friend,
With ease are written at the top;
When those two happy words are penned,
A youthful writer oft will stop,
And bite his pen, and lift his eyes
As if he thinks to find in air
The wished-for following words, or tries
To fix his thoughts by fixëd stare.
But haply all in vain-the next
Two words may be so long before
They'll come, the writer, sore perplext,
Gives in despair the matter o'er;
And when maturer age he sees
With ready pen so swift inditing,
With envy he beholds the ease
Of long-accustomed letter-writing.
Courage, young friend; the time may be
When you attain maturer age,
Some young as you are now may see
You with like ease glide down a page.
Even then when you, to years a debtor,
In varied phrase your meanings wrap,
The welcomest words in all your letter
May be those two kind words at top.
poem by Charles Lamb
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Words
Words are my weapon
words are my shield
Guns and knifes just ruin lives
so words I keep concealed
Words are all I have here
they help me struggle on
Words are here forever,
when all I have is gone
In my thoughts or in my poems
Words will help ease my brain
I write down what is on my mind
Expressing love or feeling pain
Not that many I can trust
But words I can depend
Words wont turn there back on you
Words are my only friend
poem by Nic Hillen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lost For Words
If I can't find the words...
Waiting for this feeling
That I'm drowning in to subside
You make me swim like a beginner
Like I'm new at life
All these words don't come easy
No they always seem to stop
There is awkward silence yeah
Anytime we talk
Oh but I wanna let it in
I wanna ease all your doubts
I keep trying to get it out
But if I can't find the words
To tell you what I'm feeling
Baby that don't mean
It don't mean that I don't feel it
I'm trying to tell you girl
But if you don't believe just look and see
My face says what you mean to me
When I can't find the words
I know I can send you flowers
To try to make my feelings clear
And girl I could hold you tight for hours
I wanna tell you what you're trying to hear
Oh and I wanna let it in
I wanna ease all your doubts
I keep trying to get it out
But if I can't find the words
To tell you what I'm feeling
Baby that don't mean
It don't mean that I don't feel it
I'm trying to tell you girl
But if you don't believe just look and see
My face says what you mean to me
When I can't find the words
But I know sometimes I leave you so upset
Cos I got all these bits and pieces in my head
I know because I let you struggle with the things I haven't said
When I can't find the words
When I can't find the words
When I, when I, when I can't find the words
I wanna ease all your doubts (ease all your doubts)
I keep trying to get it out
But if I can't find the words
To tell you what I'm feeling
But baby that don't mean
It don't mean that I don't feel it
I'm trying to tell you girl
But if you don't believe just look and see
My smile says what you mean to me
When I can't find the words
If I can't find the words
song performed by by Ronan Keating
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Love Letter
She wonders how to begin her letter
She knows he will read each word
Greedily for any hint of love. She knows
He will sniff the paper for any scent of her
She leans an elbow on her writing desk
And clutches her pen tight. She has got
As far as, Dear John, but then the words
Stopped coming. Before she had sat down
To write, the words flowed through her
Mind like a rushing stream, now nothing
She sucks the end of the pen. Say what
You would if you were face to face, her
Mother always said. She tries to imagine
He is there before her and what she would
Say if he was, but still no words will come
He writes to her so fluently when he writes
He always seems to know what to write
And how to put it into words. She tries again
Puts the pen nib onto the paper, gripping
The pen tighter. She reads what she’s written
Dear John. The pen moves, the words begin
To flow, her hand moves across the page
The images come into her mind as she writes
The things that they said last time they met
The things they did, she blushes slightly
That almost being caught out by the maid
In a state of undress. She pauses the pen
And sits gazing at the painting on the wall.
She looks back at the paper and starts again
The words tripping over themselves to be put
Down in ink upon a page; the images open up
In her mind, the colours, the smells, the events
The pen now stops. The love letter is written
The writing done. She looks at the words
Then she seals it in an envelope and writes
His address. She pictures him reading it: in bed
In his room, sleepy, in a state of his usual undress
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dear One
Dear one, how do I find the words,
the words I need to say?
Do they even exist my love?
For words can never convey
my feelings
my emotions,
my love for you
not on any day.
Dear one,
What good are words
that only drift away?
Words that I need to stay,
uttered sounds are here a while.
I speak and then I smile
hoping that in some small way
you'll know on every day
You are my dear one.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cannot Stay Mad At People For Long
Sometimes people write words,
when they are frustrated and angry.
They then send those words
to someone to ease what they are feeling,
not knowing how deep that they will hurt.
Then remorse sets in,
they regret what they have written,
but they cannot take those words back,
though they wish they could.
It is too late and they think
a friend they have lost.
The person who received those words,
yes they are hurt. They want to do something in retaliation,
so they ignore that person,
but they find
they cannot stay mad at them for long.
They forgive them
for what they have done,
hoping that when they are frustrated and angry,
they will not take it
again out on them.
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Words
Words on this paper
Words in my head
Words while I'm texting
Computing
Unsaid
Words between people
Words on the phone
Words upon words
Even when I'm alone
Words from the Bible
I question
Don't mesh
Words from pornography
Making them flesh
Words with flat letters
Written in black
Good words and bad words
You cannot take back
Words that are shallow
Words that are deep
When they're too many
They put me to sleep
Words that I'm writing
And rhyming you read
Whatever I'm saying
There's prolly no need
Words from the alphabet
Words that can't be
When you are blind
And it's Braile that you see
Words that are worthless
And said on the fly
My words or your words
Are most likely lies
Words in a sentence
Wise words or fair
The only words earnest
Are those said in prayer
Written by Sara Fielder © 2011
poem by Sara Fielder
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The Writer and the Blood Inked Quil
The Writer and the Blood Inked Quill
By: Adam M. Snow
The candle flickered by a passing gentle breeze;
My quill dries up leaving not I at ease.
My words upon page now left to hang.
A reader's disappointment, now a writer's pang.
Misery held me as time stood still,
My heart has fallen because my mind is ill.
I stare at blank page as all words elude me,
I can't help to wonder, 'How could this be? '
Torment follows as night falls victim to dread;
My ink once black now turns blood red.
I wrote my soul upon each page,
As time ticks by with every age.
The word itself scream an agony scream;
I, the writer without a dream.
But what bedevils myself to write,
Elude me once more with the fall of night.
My nightly whimper comes with a toll,
My life upon the page, now bearing my soul.
poem by Adam M. Snow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Will The Words Come Back?
Words slip off our pen
like warm butter off a knife.
They fall in unison across the page
with everything we write.
Then one day the words don’t flow
in unison like they used to before.
They have no rhythm within them
and just become no more than words.
We look at what we’ve written
and there is no bounce in them.
The words become no more than words
once written by a creative hand.
There is no meaning in what they say
they have no heart anymore.
They are just words written on a page
with no rhyme or reason for them being there.
Some call it a writer’s block;
others call it stagnation of the mind.
The creative juices fall away to nothing,
no spark to be kindled,
no emotions to be released,
no protests to be made,
no stories to be assembled
like a jigsaw in your mind.
Just an empty pen with words
that don’t make sense anymore.
Struggles without feeling,
ideas leading nowhere
on a spiralling downward turn.
You are no longer a writer,
your creativity is gone
and the only question you have,
will the words come came back?
13 July 2009
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Orphan's Friend
Come all kind, good people,
With sympathizing hearts,
Come listen to a few kind words
A friend to you imparts.
Be kind to an orphan child,
And always be its friend,
You will be happy in this world,
And will be to the end.
Be kind to the motherless,
Little motherless ones,
For God will forever bless
You in this world to come.
No kind and loving mother
To soothe their little brow,
Be kind to them always, friends,
They have no mother now.
Be kind to the fatherless,
Wherever you may find
One little one that is friendless,
I pray you all be kind.
For it has no loving father,
To speak with mild reproof,
Or guide its youthful footsteps
In honesty and truth.
Be kind to the little orphans,
They have no parents dear;
Be kind to the little orphans,
Speak to them words of cheer,
Then they will always love you
For kind and gentle words,
Then God will ever bless you,
For He says so in His word.
poem by Julia A Moore
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To Dear Father With Love
Dear father, out of my love for you,
words from the bottom of my heart,
I am overwhelmed while i speak them to you.
All my life, my only wish and will,
while you love and care, the time be still.
Dear father, when you call out my name,
I am felt secured and strength i gain,
though as tough as can be, i am the victor in every game.
Have been fed for this long and now i shall serve,
however hard the task, i will show the nerve.
Dear father, I promise I'll make you proud,
your faith in me, i will not let it down,
as bright i will stand out, while in the crowd.
Your care and affection, like the shade in the sun,
tears never in my eyes, all along only joy and fun.
Dear father, my service to you and your soul shall blossom,
At your feet, is my life and the glee while you glide,
The seeds you have sow, every bud shall blossom.
Your greatness to be written but the words are few,
Dear father I love you.
poem by Saleem Tharani
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The Writer
From where comes that burning spark
That lights a lantern in the dark,
And from its shadowed prison frees
The story, as the mind it sees.
The thoughts released from darkness then
To form their words before the pen;
These words that come from deep within
Upon the page their freedom win.
And where was just an empty plain
A line is writ and writ again
Of maidens fair and heroes bold,
Until the story all is told.
And there the words - before his eyes
The tale upon the pages lies.
Now in the wider world it lives;
To thoughts, the words, the writer gives.
poem by Dennis N. O'Brien
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Paperback Writer
(LennonMcCartney)
Paperback writer
Dear Sir or Madam, will you read my book?
It took me years to write, will you take a look?
It's based on a novel by a man named Lear
And I need a job, so I want to be a paperback writer
Paperback writer
It's the dirty story of a dirty man
And his clinging wife doesn't understand
His son is working for the Daily Mail
It's a steady job but he wants to be a paperback writer
Paperback writer
Paperback writer
It's a thousand pages, give or take a few
I'll be writing more in a week or two
I can make it longer if you like the style
I can change it round and I want to be a paperback writer
Paperback writer
If you really like it you can have the rights
It could make a million for you overnight
If you must return it, you can send it here
But I need a break and I want to be a paperback writer
Paperback writer
Paperback writer
Paperback writer, paperback writer
Paperback writer, paperback writer
Paperback writer, paperback writer
Paperback writer, paperback writer (fade out)
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Six Words Long
This song is just six words long
This song is just six words long
This song is just six words long
This song is just six words long
Couldn't think of any lyrics
No i never wrote the lyrics
So i'll just sing any old lyrics
That come to mind, child
You really need words
Whole lotta rhyming words
You gotta rhyme so many words, mm-mm
To do it, to do it, to do it, to do it
To do it, to do it right, child
This song is just six words long
This song is just six words long
This song is just six words long
This song is just six words long
I know that you're probably sore
'cause i didn't write any more
I just didn't get to complete it
So that's why i gotta repeat it
This song is just six words long (six words long)
This song is just six words long (six words long)
Oh i make a lotta money
They pay me a ton of money
They're payin' me plenty of money
To sing this song, child
I gotta fill time
Three minutes worth of time
Oh, how will i fill so much time, mm-mm
I'll throw in a solo, a solo, a solo
A solo, a solo here
This song is just six words long
This song is just six words long
This song is just six words long
This song is just six words long
This song's got nothin' to say
But i'm recording it anyway
I know if i put my mind to it
I know i could find a good rhyme here
Oh, you gotta have-a music
You need really catchy music
This song has got plenty of music
But just six words, child
And so i'll sing' em over
And over and over and over
And over and over and over, mm-mm
And over and over and over
And over and over and over again
Six words long, six words long
Six words long, six words long
Six words long, six words long
This song is just six words long
It's just six words long
song performed by by Weird Al Yankovic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Do it your way for Stephen Stirk
Sometimes the words that writers use
have different meanings and values.
For words don’t always mean the same
and common words don’t play the game.
Some words can mean their opposite
A writer must be explicit
selecting words in such a way.
Their meaning is as clear as day.
Avoiding in particular
the words that seem familiar
That sound the same when they are not.
Meanings can differ quite a lot
Like seams and seems or there and their.
A writer has to be aware
Simplicity is his finest tool
and that his readers as a rule
Are not concerned with the syntax
Your words should help them to relax
If they do not then you will fail
your efforts all to no avail.
Although your words are scholarly
perfectly composed grammatically.
Successful writers in the main
make sure they write to entertain.
They cater to the public taste
they haven’t got the time to waste
Writing works which won’t be read
That will not earn their daily bread.
Those who write professionally
research their market thoroughly.
The must be certain it will sell
and some of them do very well.
Amateurs, who post on the net
are not constrained they can forget
The publishers and critics views
and simply write the way they choose.
Though they won’t earn a single cent
it doesn’t matter, They’re content
with comments that their readers make.
They love to write for its own sake.
23/06/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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My dear friend happy birthday
My dear friend happy birthday
i may not have the best rhymes today
but few words i'll like to say
i wish you happiness on this special day
my dear friend happy birthday
God has made it this way
guarding you by night and by day
for boyhood to roll away
and men stage to come and stay
my dear friend happy birthday
sweet memories are here to stay
smiles, hugs and gifts on display
many talk about old time and rough play
my dear i'm on my way
seraphic voices singing happy birthday
poem by Chibuzor Ossai
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The Text
One Sunday eve a grave old man,
Who had not been at church, did say,
'Eliza, tell me, if you can,
What text our Doctor took to-day?'
She hung her head, she blushed for shame,
One single word she did not know,
Nor verse nor chapter she could name,
Her silent blushes told him so.
Again said he, 'My little maid,
What in the sermon did you hear?
Come tell me that, for that may aid
Me to find out the text, my dear.'
A tear stole down each blushing cheek,
She wished she better had attended;
She sobbing said, when she could speak,
She heard not till 'twas almost ended.
'Ah! little heedless one, why what
Could you be thinking on? 'tis clear
Some foolish fancies must have got
Possession of your head, my dear.
'What thoughts were they, Eliza, tell,
Nor seek from me the truth to smother.'-
'O I remember very well,
I whispered something to my brother.
'I said, 'Be friends with me, dear Will;'
We quarrelled, sir, at the church door,-
Though he cried, 'Hush, don't speak, be still,'
Yet I repeated these words o'er
'Seven or eight times, I have no doubt.
But here comes William, and if he
The good things he has heard about
Forgets too, sir, the fault's in me.'
'No, sir,' said William, 'though perplext
And much disturbed by my sister,
I in this matter of the text,
I thank my memory, can assist her.
'I have, and pride myself on having,
A more retentive head than she.'-
Then gracefully his right hand waving,
He with no little vanity
Recited gospel, chapter, verse-
I should be loth to spoil in metre
All the good words he did rehearse,
As spoken by our Lord to Peter.
But surely never words from heaven
Of peace and love more full descended;
That we should seventy times seven
Forgive our brother that offended.
In every point of view he placed it,
As he the Doctor's self had been,
With emphasis and action graced it:
But from his self-conceit 'twas seen
Who had brought home the words, and who had
A little on the meaning thought;
Eliza now the old man knew had
Learned that which William never caught.
Without impeaching William's merit,
His head but served him for the letter;
Hers missed the words, but kept the spirit;
Her memory to her heart was debtor.
poem by Charles Lamb
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Tongue Tied
I’ve heard it said romance is dead.
Perhaps my friend you’ve heard it too.
A lying rumour which has spread
around the world as rumours do.
It is not true, it couldn’t be.
As long as men and maids exist,
romance will thrive eternally.
Love letter writing will persist.
Young ladies dream of high romance.
Young men pretend that they do not.
Both he’s and she’s join in the dance
when Cupids’s arrow hits the spot.
If they are lucky they will find
the words with which they can express.
With eloquence their state of mind
in passionate inventiveness.
Romance is very much alive
and poets prove this everyday.
Though lesser mortals have to strive
to tell their love in their own way.
So three short words must satisfy.
When spoken with sincerity.
No matter how hard some men try
they lack the capability..
But somehow they communicate
their love for you is strong and true
and let their actions compensate
for words they cannot say to you.
7-Jul-07
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Distant friends
Once the friends we were,
We laughed together, we cried together,
We played together, we dreamt together,
We enjoyed good times together, we overcame the bad times together.
Now that we live miles away,
I think of you, think of our times together,
Should distance ever matter?
Because you are in my heart forever.
Sometimes when I feel lonely,
I get swept away by the memory of your friendship,
You were a friend in need, a friend indeed,
You made my nightmare and sorrows vanish with ease.
When you were near, I never said how good friend you were,
Even now from a distance, I don't need words to describe it,
The language of friendship is not words, but its meanings,
It is a feeling which does not require explaining.
poem by Jay P Narain
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Words strung across the sky
Words strung across the sky
~
Words strung across the sky
Waiting to be heard
Talk of peace and love
Building a heavenly utopia
To aid our sleep, to ease our guilt
To answer a call to faith
Wealth matters not to words
The class of man falls away
The only judgment is by the self
The words chosen and used
The words listened to
It is people who make a place
And words which bring them together
Let them be written or spoken
As they are found
By the soul of man
poem by Matthew Holloway
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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COULD WE BE FRIENDS? [BY Redscar & Moons]
MOONS:
Could I be your FRIEND, my friend?
For ‘Redscar and Moons’ sounds sweet
What I mean do you comprehend?
When things went bad I almost quit.
I long for this; could we try to blend
Now that we share a sweet lit seat?
Could I be your FRIEND, friend?
REDSCAR:
Please be my FRIEND, oh friend!
Behold, my bad I won't repeat;
I'll never act like a dire fiend,
And from candor I won't retreat!
...So I beseech that we blend,
For us to make all that is sweet -
Be my FRIEND, my dear friend!
MOONS:
I found a niche in you friend,
Like hearts in rhyme with a beat,
I may not have enough to spend,
Let alone excess for a treat,
Words, these words are all I lend,
...May be as meaningless as skit,
Could I be your FRIEND, Friend?
REDSCAR:
In you I've found a special friend
For with you, my life has no dent;
I'd love to retain you till the end -
As a FRIEND, my, you are God-sent!
...And now in you I highly depend,
For care, and the good that's latent;
Be my FRIEND, my dear friend!
MOONS:
Listen carefully oh friend,
My words are truly meant,
On this Moons you can depend,
My all would certainly be lent,
But am scared should you turn a fiend,
I may crumble not being a magnificent.
Could I be your FRIEND, Friend?
REDSCAR:
God forbid: I'll never be a FIEND,
Never to do anything you dissent!
I love you dearly - I don't pretend
To ever be FRIENDS I beg your assent;
...Like ere my blessings to you I send,
Rebuking all that bring predicament;
Be my FRIEND, my dear friend.
MOONS:
Then, I'm honored my Friend,
Confidants we've just begun to be,
With every additional dividend,
I invest again in You and Me,
This relationship I'll tend,
...A Moons and Redscar spree,
I'll be your FRIEND, Oh dear Friend.
REDSCAR:
How I thank you, my dear friend
For accepting to be in this with me!
I'll cherish your amity till the end,
And I'll shower you with much glee;
...For you, I promise to ever fend -
The only Moon in my sky you'll be;
I'm glad you are my dear FRIEND!
©2010 Redscar McOdindo K’Oyuga
& Muna Moons Ahmed
poem by Redscar McOdindo K'Oyuga
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