Peace. A Study
He stood, a worn-out City clerk —
Who'd toil'd, and seen no holiday,
For forty years from dawn to dark —
Alone beside Caermarthen Bay.
He felt the salt spray on his lips;
Heard children's voices on the sands;
Up the sun's path he saw the ships
Sail on and on to other lands;
And laugh'd aloud. Each sight and sound
To him was joy too deep for tears;
He sat him on the beach, and bound
A blue bandana round his ears
And thought how, posted near his door,
His own green door on Camden Hill,
Two bands at least, most likely more,
Were mingling at their own sweet will
Verdi with Vance. And at the thought
He laugh'd again, and softly drew
That Morning Herald that he'd bought
Forth from his breast, and read it through.
poem by Charles Stuart Calverley
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The Jumblies
They went to sea in a Sieve, they did,
In a Sieve they went to sea:
In spite of all their friends could say,
On a winter's morn, on a stormy day,
In a Sieve they went to sea!
And when the Sieve turned round and round,
And every one cried, `You'll all be drowned!'
They called aloud, `Our Sieve ain't big,
But we don't care a button! we don't care a fig!
In a Sieve we'll go to sea!'
Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the Jumblies live;
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue,
And they went to sea in a Sieve.
They sailed away in a Sieve, they did,
In a Sieve they sailed so fast,
With only a beautiful pea-green veil
Tied with a riband by way of a sail,
To a small tobacco-pipe mast;
And every one said, who saw them go,
`O won't they be soon upset, you know!
For the sky is dark, and the voyage is long,
And happen what may, it's extremely wrong
In a Sieve to sail so fast!'
Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the Jumblies live;
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue,
And they went to sea in a Sieve.
The water it soon came in, it did,
The water it soon came in;
So to keep them dry, they wrapped their feet
In a pinky paper all folded neat,
And they fastened it down with a pin.
And they passed the night in a crockery-jar,
And each of them said, `How wise we are!
Though the sky be dark, and the voyage be long,
Yet we never can think we were rash or wrong,
While round in our Sieve we spin!'
Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the Jumblies live;
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue,
And they went to sea in a Sieve.
And all night long they sailed away;
And when the sun went down,
They whistled and warbled a moony song
To the echoing sound of a coppery gong,
In the shade of the mountains brown.
`O Timballo! How happy we are,
When we live in a Sieve and a crockery-jar,
And all night long in the moonlight pale,
We sail away with a pea-green sail,
In the shade of the mountains brown!'
Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the Jumblies live;
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue,
And they went to sea in a Sieve.
They sailed to the Western Sea, they did,
To a land all covered with trees,
And they bought an Owl, and a useful Cart,
And a pound of Rice, and a Cranberry Tart,
And a hive of silvery Bees.
And they bought a Pig, and some green Jack-daws,
And a lovely Monkey with lollipop paws,
And forty bottles of Ring-Bo-Ree,
And no end of Stilton Cheese.
Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the Jumblies live;
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue,
And they went to sea in a Sieve.
And in twenty years they all came back,
In twenty years or more,
And every one said, `How tall they've grown!
For they've been to the Lakes, and the Torrible Zone,
And the hills of the Chankly Bore!'
And they drank their health, and gave them a feast
Of dumplings made of beautiful yeast;
And every one said, `If we only live,
We too will go to sea in a Sieve,---
To the hills of the Chankly Bore!'
Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the Jumblies live;
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue,
And they went to sea in a Sieve.
poem by Edward Lear
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Too Many Angels
Theres an angel on a ribbon
Hanging from the armoire door
Theres a cupid with his feet crossed
On the bird cage by the door
Theres a baby angel drummer
His eyes are open wide
And two more tiny cherubs
On the mantle side by side
Too many angels
Have seen me crying
Too many angels
Have heard you lying
There are photographs of children
All in their silver frames
On the window sills and tabletops
Lit by candle flames
And upon their angel faces
Lifes expectations climb
Where the moment has preserved them
From the ravages of time
Too many angels
Have seen me crying
Too many angels
Have heard you lying
Bring the morning on
Voices sing of day
I want to step out in the morning sun
Through the flood of tears
I want this darkness gone
Your sweet face appears
These apparitions coming one by one
But theres no end in sight
Only the dead of night
And too many angels
Too many angels
Have seen me crying
Too many angels
Have heard you lying
Too many angels
Bring the morning on
Voices sing of day
I want to step out in the morning sun
Through the flood of tears
I want to greet the dawn
Cast away these fears
Forget about the things we could have done
Bring the morning on
Voices sing of day
I want to watch the children as they run
Through the broken years
I want this darkness gone
Your sweet face appears
These apparitions coming one by one
But theres no end in sight
Only the dead of night
And too many angels
song performed by by Jackson Browne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Deserted House
Life and Thought have gone away
Side by side,
Leaving door and windows wide.
Careless tenants they!
All within is dark as night:
In the windows is no light;
And no murmur at the door,
So frequent on its hinge before.
Close the door; the shutters close;
Or through the windows we shall see
The nakedness and vacancy
Of the dark deserted house.
Come away: no more of mirth
Is here or merry-making sound.
The house was builded of the earth,
And shall fall again to ground.
Come away: for Life and Thought
Here no longer dwell;
But in a city glorious -
A great and distant city -have bought
A mansion incorruptible.
Would they could have stayed with us!
poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Tangiers 1970
The Mediterranean Sea
caught the moonlight
as you wandered the beach
with Mame
she grabbed your hand
and kissed your cheek
isn't it out of this world?
she said stopping
and looking into your eyes
and breathing out
her peppermint breath
you smelt the sea salt
felt the slight breeze
coming across the sea
wouldn't you rather be
with one of the other guys
than be here with me?
you said
gazing at her fuzzy hair
her light blue eyes
oh piss the other guys
it's you I like
she said
brushing a hand
through your hair
pulling you in closer
to her small tight breasts
don't you like me?
she asked
I thought you fancied me
the way you kept staring at me
on the coach and in Tangiers
you heard the Berber drums
and voices from the camp base
coming on the wind
and wondered if the others
would guess she'd taken you
down the beach
for something romantic
or tumble in the sands
with all lips and hands
well?
she asked
standing there
in her flowered
two piece bathing cloth
sure I do
you muttered
sensing her hand
reaching down
your jeans
seeking an erection
a sign of interest
do you ever think
of those ancients
who may once
have stood
where we now stand?
you said
how they too
may have stood
beneath a sky
and stars
and moon like us?
she stood back and stared
and uttered coldly
no I haven't
and couldn't give a cuss
and off she went
up the beach
to the base camp
on smooth sands
and rough tufts of grass
and oh how she knew
to wiggle
her small tight ass.
poem by Terry Collett
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A World Of Love
I was so lonely before you my love.
I had forty years of loneliness drowning my soul.
Forty years of loneliness from tears never cried.
Tears collected from forty years of bitter salt life.
Tears uncried formed an ocean of bitter salt tears.
Bitter salt tears can drown or pickle a weaker soul.
I have waited for you for forty years my love.
The first miracle was the miracle of my first meeting you.
When angels stood among us; during the miracle; of dancing with you.
Since then I have beheld; an incredible transformation; miracle my love.
Since then you have turned; tsunami divided an ocean; of bitter salt tears.
Transfiguration brine sea; into the sweetest of chilled; summer red wine.
Through the miracle of love; the world will be drunk; on spiritual love.
Who would have ever thought; that a flood of love; would come to rein.
A second flood that would save; wash clean an entire world.
A flood of love that would wash; clean all sins of earth world.
Washed clean slowly over gospel time; suddenly as waters of life
gather turn barren wastes; parched deserts into fertile lands of love.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Nurse's Song (Innocence)
When voices of children are heard on the green
And laughing is heard on the hill,
My heart is at rest within my breast
And everything else is still
Then come home my children the sun is gone down
And the dews of night arise
Come come leave off play, and let us away
Till the morning appears in the skies
No no let us play, for it is yet day
And we cannot go to sleep
Besides in the sky, the little birds fly
And the hills are all covered with sheep
Well well go & play till the light fades away
And then go home to bed
The little ones leaped & shouted & laugh'd
And all the hills echoed
poem by William Blake
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I Heard An Angel Say
I thought I saw her face today
in the sparkle of the morning sun
and then I heard the angel say
her work on earth is done
I thought I heard her voice today
then laugh her hearty laugh
and then I hear the angel say
there's peace little one at last
I thought I felt her touch today
in the breeze that rustled by
and then I hear an angel say
the spirit never dies
I thought she had left me
for the stars to far above
and then I hear the angel say
she left you with her love
I thought I would miss her
and never find my way
and then I heard the angel say
she's with you everyday
poem by Lizee Beth
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Nurse's Song
When the voices of children are heard on the green,
And laughing is heard on the hill,
My heart is at rest within my breast,
And everything else is still.
‘Then come home, my children, the sun is gone down,
And the dews of night arise;
Come, come leave off play, and let us away
Till the morning appears in the skies.’
‘No, no, let us play, for it is yet day,
And we cannot go to sleep;
Besides, in the sky the little birds fly,
And the hills are all cover'd with sheep.’
‘Well, well, go and play till the light fades away,
And then go home to bed.’
The little ones leapèd, and shoutèd, and laugh'd
And all the hills echoèd.
poem by William Blake from Songs of Innocence (1789)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Laughing Song
When the green woods laugh with the voice of joy,
And the dimpling stream runs laughing by;
When the air does laugh with our merry wit,
And the green hill laughs with the noise of it;
When the meadows laugh with lively green,
And the grasshopper laughs in the merry scene,
When Mary and Susan and Emily
With their sweet round mouths sing ‘Ha, Ha, He!’
When the painted birds laugh in the shade,
Where our table with cherries and nuts is spread,
Come live, and be merry, and join with me,
To sing the sweet chorus of ‘Ha, Ha, He!’
poem by William Blake from Songs of Innocence (1789)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Face Up
Ever since Ive seen your face
This life of mine has gone to waste
I was young and you were old
And I always knew you were cold
At the start you had a heart
But in the end you lost your friend
Can you see your own dark face?
Its dieing in a lonely place
Oh, how I cannot bear the thought of you
I said, oh, how I cannot bear the thought of you
As we get old, we lose our place
Reflecting back the worlds disgrace
I feel so low, I feel so humble
Sometimes in life we take a tumble
Dont let anybody tell you that youre no good
Cause you know they would
Dont let anybody tell you what you should do
Cause its not that way and...
Oh, how I cannot bear the thought of you
I said, oh, how I cannot bear the thought of you
We were young and we were pure
And life was just an open door
I said oh, oh, how I cannot bear the thought of you
You were me and I was you
This world of ours it felt brand new
You took me a little further...
I heard it all before, Ive heard it all before
I cant hear it anymore
Your hair was long, your eyes was blue
Guess what Im gonna do to you
Oh, how I cannot bear the thought of you
I said, oh, how I cannot bear the thought of you
We were young and we were pure
And life was just an open door
I said oh, oh, how I cannot bear the thought...
Oh, how I cannot bear the thought of you
I said oh, oh, how I cannot bear the thought of you
We were young and we were pure...
song performed by by New Order
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sweet Silent Sea-Waves Lapping By The Rocks
Sweet silent sea-waves lapping by the rocks
That beneath the frowning bastions lie
Nature, the tricky one
Left the door ajar half-open half-closed
And none of them - yet leaving things in the middle:
And he
And he
Pondering
Pondering as not be foolish
Said to himself
There’s danger if I open the door too much
I do not know what I will let in:
Yet
Yet
The option beckoned: either close or open to full:
So he pondered again
This time being quicker, rasher
Decided for the line of least resistance
For the prudent path
Fear, tall impudent fear
Stood by him like a dubious angel
His counsel was not lost – it moved him
And so
He closed the door thinking he said
And making sure against ‘the unforseen’.
Courage had stood by him
But Fear won him smiling green
Into the face of Courage
Another soul was won to Fear
Another to Courage lost:
Then Courage went away bashfully.
Fear sate him invisible by and by to watch.
So the drama quick unfolded:
And he sank
He could not walk on water
Because Fear had won him
Because Courage had lost him:
And so
And so
He sate on a safe rock
And put his feet into the water like a child
To feel the cool sweet water rush
And press with sweetness round his ankles
But Fear, yellow fear won!
For even here:
The sands started to
‘Twas a slippery bank, a bank of treachery
And treacherous the sand sank
And fast the sand
Sank like down the time-glass.
And Fear seizing him
He was un resourceful to the full
His mind Fear had made blank
It was blank – worse
Than if Morpheus on touching it
Had exceeded his dose of opiate sleep;
He saw nothing
Except him sink
And sink:
And all around him crush
And all around him go:
And yet
He felt a pleasure in the ruin
A sweetness new not felt before
He felt:
In sinking.
And so sinking
He still heard
The music of pleasantness
Ring in his ears
The sea was calm and wave-less
So no current churned
And linear and tall
He went down to the floor
The walls of water around him raged
The walls of water around him pressed
Like flames of wrath
Like flames of ruin Nero-like
When Nero burned his Rome
And staring stood
Stringing here and there a note
On his large funereal harp
And so
He touched the floor of the salt sea
Deep in and smiling in his ruin
At least pain had flown away
Fear had granted in recompense
A painless sinking:
And as he fell
His eyes were open yet closed
And he
Could not recriminate himself
As to why
He simply could not open the door - it was so easy
So imperative:
Yet so he did not and he sank.
And thus engrossed
He thought himself alone
If he could think:
And could not see
A case like his a-sinking to the floor
Another coward Fear his victim made
De te fabula!
poem by Emmanuel George Cefai
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The Forsaken Merman
Come, dear children, let us away;
Down and away below!
Now my brothers call from the bay,
Now the great winds shoreward blow,
Now the salt tides seaward flow;
Now the wild white horses play,
Champ and chafe and toss in the spray.
Children dear, let us away!
This way, this way!
Call her once before you go--
Call once yet!
In a voice that she will know:
"Margaret! Margaret!"
Children's voices should be dear
(Call once more) to a mother's ear;
Children's voices, wild with pain--
Surely she will come again!
Call her once and come away;
This way, this way!
"Mother dear, we cannot stay!
The wild white horses foam and fret."
Margaret! Margaret!
Come, dear children, come away down;
Call no more!
One last look at the white-wall'd town,
And the little gray church on the windy shore;
Then come down!
She will not come though you call all day;
Come away, come away!
Children dear, was it yesterday
We heard the sweet bells over the bay?
In the caverns where we lay,
Through the surf and through the swell,
The far-off sound of a silver bell?
Sand-strewn caverns, cool and deep,
Where the winds are all asleep;
Where the spent lights quiver and gleam,
Where the salt weed sways in the stream,
Where the sea-beasts, ranged all round,
Feed in the ooze of their pasture-ground;
Where the sea-snakes coil and twine,
Dry their mail and bask in the brine;
Where great whales come sailing by,
Sail and sail, with unshut eye,
Round the world forever and aye?
When did music come this way?
Children dear, was it yesterday?
Children dear, was it yesterday
(Call yet once) that she went away?
Once she sate with you and me,
On a red gold throne in the heart of the sea,
And the youngest sate on her knee.
She comb'd its bright hair, and she tended it well,
When down swung the sound of a far-off bell.
She sigh'd, she look'd up through the clear green sea;
She said: "I must go, for my kinsfolk pray
In the little gray church on the shore to-day.
'Twill be Easter-time in the world--ah me!
And I lose my poor soul, Merman! here with thee."
I said: "Go up, dear heart, through the waves;
Say thy prayer, and come back to the kind sea-caves!"
She smil'd, she went up through the surf in the bay.
Children dear, was it yesterday?
Children dear, were we long alone?
"The sea grows stormy, the little ones moan;
Long prayers," I said, "in the world they say;
Come!" I said; and we rose through the surf in the bay.
We went up the beach, by the sandy down
Where the sea-stocks bloom, to the white-wall'd town;
Through the narrow pav'd streets, where all was still,
To the little gray church on the windy hill.
From the church came a murmur of folk at their prayers,
But we stood without in the cold blowing airs.
We climb'd on the graves, on the stones worn with rains,
And we gaz'd up the aisle through the small leaded panes.
She sate by the pillar; we saw her clear:
"Margaret, hist! come quick, we are here!
Dear heart," I said, "we are long alone;
The sea grows stormy, the little ones moan."
But, ah, she gave me never a look,
For her eyes were seal'd to the holy book!
Loud prays the priest: shut stands the door.
Come away, children, call no more!
Come away, come down, call no more!
Down, down, down!
Down to the depths of the sea!
She sits at her wheel in the humming town,
Singing most joyfully.
Hark what she sings: "O joy, O joy,
For the humming street, and the child with its toy!
For the priest, and the bell, and the holy well;
For the wheel where I spun,
And the blessèd light of the sun!"
And so she sings her fill,
Singing most joyfully,
Till the spindle drops from her hand,
And the whizzing wheel stands still.
She steals to the window, and looks at the sand,
And over the sand at the sea;
And her eyes are set in a stare;
And anon there breaks a sigh,
And anon there drops a tear,
From a sorrow-clouded eye,
And a heart sorrow-laden,
A long, long sigh;
For the cold strange eyes of a little Mermaiden,
And the gleam of her golden hair.
Come away, away, children;
Come, children, come down!
The hoarse wind blows colder;
Lights shine in the town.
She will start from her slumber
When gusts shake the door;
She will hear the winds howling,
Will hear the waves roar.
We shall see, while above us
The waves roar and whirl,
A ceiling of amber,
A pavement of pearl.
Singing: "Here came a mortal,
But faithless was she!
And alone dwell forever
The kings of the sea."
But, children, at midnight,
When soft the winds blow,
When clear falls the moonlight,
When spring-tides are low;
When sweet airs come seaward
From heaths starr'd with broom,
And high rocks throw mildly
On the blanch'd sands a gloom;
Up the still, glistening beaches,
Up the creeks we will hie,
Over banks of bright seaweed
The ebb-tide leaves dry.
We will gaze, from the sand-hills,
At the white, sleeping town;
At the church on the hill-side--
And then come back down.
Singing: "There dwells a lov'd one,
But cruel is she!
She left lonely forever
The kings of the sea."
poem by Matthew Arnold (1849)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Foreign Lands
You may roam the wide seas over, follow, meet, and cross the sun,
Sail as far as ships can sail, and travel far as trains can run;
You may ride and tramp wherever range or plain or sea expands,
But the crowd has been before you, and you’ll not find ‘Foreign Lands;’
For the Early Days are over,
And no more the white-winged rover
Sinks the gale-worn coast of England bound for bays in Foreign Lands.
Foreign Lands are in the distance dim and dreamlike, faint and far,
Long ago, and over yonder, where our boyhood fancies are,
For the land is by the railway cramped as though with iron bands,
And the steamship and the cable did away with Foreign Lands.
Ah! the days of blue and gold!
When the news was six months old—
But the news was worth the telling in the days of Foreign Lands.
Here we slave the dull years hopeless for the sake of Wool and Wheat
Here the homes of ugly Commerce—niggard farm and haggard street;
Yet our mothers and our fathers won the life the heart demands—
Less than fifty years gone over, we were born in Foreign Lands.
When the gipsies stole the children still, in village tale and song,
And the world was wide to travel, and the roving spirit strong;
When they dreamed of South Sea Islands, summer seas and coral strands—
Then the bravest hearts of England sailed away to Foreign Lands,
‘Fitting foreign’—flood and field—
Half the world and orders sealed—
And the first and best of Europe went to fight in Foreign Lands.
Canvas towers on the ocean—homeward bound and outward bound—
Glint of topsails over islands—splash of anchors in the sound;
Then they landed in the forests, took their strong lives in their hands,
And they fought and toiled and conquered—making homes in Foreign Lands,
Through the cold and through the drought—
Further on and further out—
Winning half the world for England in the wilds of Foreign Lands.
Love and pride of life inspired them when the simple village hearts
Followed Master Will and Harry—gone abroad to ‘furrin parts’
By our townships and our cities, and across the desert sands
Are the graves of those who fought and died for us in Foreign Lands—
Gave their young lives for our sake
(Was it all a grand mistake?)
Sons of Master Will and Harry born abroad in Foreign Lands!
Ah, my girl, our lives are narrow, and in sordid days like these,
I can hate the things that banished ‘Foreign Lands across the seas,’
But with all the world before us, God above us—hearts and hands,
I can sail the seas in fancy far away to Foreign Lands.
poem by Henry Lawson
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To My Name-Child
1
Some day soon this rhyming volume, if you learn with proper speed,
Little Louis Sanchez, will be given you to read.
Then you shall discover, that your name was printed down
By the English printers, long before, in London town.
In the great and busy city where the East and West are met,
All the little letters did the English printer set;
While you thought of nothing, and were still too young to play,
Foreign people thought of you in places far away.
Ay, and when you slept, a baby, over all the English lands
Other little children took the volume in their hands;
Other children questioned, in their homes across the seas:
Who was little Louis, won't you tell us, mother, please?
2
Now that you have spelt your lesson, lay it down and go and play,
Seeking shells and seaweed on the sands of Monterey,
Watching all the mighty whalebones, lying buried by the breeze,
Tiny sandpipers, and the huge Pacific seas.
And remember in your playing, as the sea-fog rolls to you,
Long ere you could read it, how I told you what to do;
And that while you thought of no one, nearly half the world away
Some one thought of Louis on the beach of Monterey!
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
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Infinite
As infinite as the sands upon the seashore and,
As lovely as your lips that i kissed;
But somebody came knocking nd i have to open the door.
You can make amendments but you can't stop this love,
For in the Valley of Salt is where you can meet us together;
But someone came knocking and i opened the door.
Oh sweet Valley of Pepper! !
And as infinite as the sands of the sea is my lower;
For the kisses of her lips is like the Valley of Sugar!
And i am here to love her forever.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The Collective.
Walk in the factory door,
Daily eight hour necessary‘chore'.
The‘bore'is about to begin,
Starting by‘swiping'in.
Get your hypo-spray,
Only‘think'the company way,
Another week another day.
Forty hours, for your‘fake'pay.!
No individual, only collective thought,
Your labour sold and bought.
MARCH 2009
poem by Guy Lipmore
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The Night Hunt
In the morning, in the dark,
When the stars begin to blunt,
By the wall of Barna Park
Dogs I heard and saw them hunt
All the parish dogs were there,
All the dogs for miles around,
Teeming up behind a hare,
In the dark, without a sound.
How I heard I scarce can tell--
'Twas a patter in the grass--
And I did not see them well
Come across the dark and pass;
Yet I saw them and I knew
Spearman's dog and Spellman's dog
And, beside my own dog too,
Leamy's from the Island Bog.
In the morning when the sun
Burnished all the green to gorse,
I went out to take a run
Round the bog upon my horse;
And my dog that had been sleeping
In the heat beside the door
Left his yawning and went leaping
On a hundred yards before.
Through the village street we passed--
Not a dog there raised a snout--
Through the street and out at last
On the white bog road and out
Over Barna Park full pace,
Over to the Silver Stream,
Horse and dog in happy race,
Rider between thought and dream.
By the stream, at Leamy's house,
Lay a dog -- my pace I curbed --
But our coming did not rouse
Him from drowsing undisturbed;
And my dog, as unaware
Of the other, dropped beside
And went running by me there
With my horse's slackened stride.
Yet by something, by a twitch
Of the sleeper's eye, a look
From the runner, something which
Little chords of feeling shook,
I was conscious that a thought
Shuddered through the silent deep
Of a secret -- I had caught
Something I had known in sleep.
poem by Thomas MacDonagh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Holiday
Holiday,
Oh what a lovely day today,
Im so glad they sent me away,
To have a little holiday today, holiday,
Holiday,
And Im just standing on the end of a pier,
Hoping and dreaming you were here,
To share my little holiday,
Lookin in the sky, for a gap in the clouds,
Sometimes I think that sun aint never coming out,
But Id rather be here than in that dirty old town,
I had to leave the city cos it broke me down,
Oh holiday, oh what a lovely day today,
I think Ill get down on my little knees and pray, thank you lord,
Thank heaven for this holiday, holiday,
Im leaving insecurity behind me,
The environmental pressures got me down,
I dont need no sedatives to pull me round,
I dont need no sleeping pills to help me sleep sound,
Oh holiday,
Oh what a lovely day today,
I think Ill get down on my knees and pray,
Thats what Ill do,
Thank heaven for this holiday,
Lying on the beach with my back burned rare,
And the salt gets in my blisters and the sand gets in my hair,
And the seas an open sewer,
But I really couldnt care,
Im breathing through my mouth so I dont have to sniff the air,
Oh holiday,
Oh what a lovely day today,
Im so glad they sent me away,
To have a little holiday.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Baby You Laugh On...
My baby, you laugh on for
The tears you shed has no takers and
All say aloud, “Every baby must laugh”.
So my baby, you laugh on…
My baby, do you know a truth?
This world has more laughing babies
Than the weeping ones here and there.
The world has its data for you if you still want to confirm.
My baby, when you learn to laugh
Leaving all your concerns and worries
You begin to tell the world aloud and aloud
That you know the art of living
But I can`t lagh like you, my baby.
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Night Visitor
Three times the knock it came to me
and opening up the door
I saw no person standing there
for help or succour plea.
I sat back down to lift the book
and Donne his Epicedes,
beside the embers I had sat,
three times again the sound.
My heart it stilled,
my heart it froze,
for no wind blew the cottage sky,
alone but lit by moon.
The sound again did slowly make,
was someone dead or going home?
for I with book and embers stood
afraid and now alone.
I stood and to the knock at once,
a soul upon my door,
for only wood could make that sound,
that I could hear again.
I slowly lifted up the latch,
and fearly opened up,
the door it let the ember glow
outside into the path.
I looked to see into the dark,
and there an Angel girl,
of long black hair,
and handsome form
did stand and beckon on.
Out into forest I was brought,
with hand and heart entwined.
We danced by pines,
and kissed by stars,
a garland she did make.
And oh! what night of reveries,
and oh! what night of care,
my youth returned again to make,
our love upon the carpet moss
alone lit by the moon.
And when awoke, I saw was gone,
the angel girl and joy,
I thought that I had dreamed
the scene beneath the single star.
But standing up I made my way
the cottage open door,
the fireside chair alone it kept
the poems for resting there.
And in the morning by the sun,
a light on pathway shone.
A garland made of pines and cones
lay there upon the step.
Let us not laugh at reveries
of love the heart can make,
the angel girl, she beckons
on to mossy carpet heart,
as lit by forest moon.
poem by Bernard Kennedy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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