The Secret
IT was the House of Quietness
To which I came at dusk;
The garth was lit with roses
And heavy with their musk.
The tremulous tall poplar trees
Stood whispering around,
The gentle flicker of their plumes
More quiet than no sound.
And as I wondered at the door
What magic might be there,
The Lady of Sweet Silences
Came softly down the stair.
poem by Christopher Morley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Billy Breathes
Tumbling greens, a pick-up screams alone above the square
Whoa, sing softly
Above the trees where billy breathes we float upon the air
Whoa, oh
Softly sing sweet songs
Softly sing sweet songs
Softly sing sweet songs
Ooooh ooooh
Silent scenes in motion means, Ill wake you when were there
Whoa, sing softly
Time, it seems, in broken dreams, to sleep beside the stair
Whoa, oh
Softly sing sweet songs
Softly sing sweet songs
Softly sing sweet songs
Ooooh ooooh
Softly sing sweet songs
Softly sing sweet songs
Softly sing sweet songs
Softly sing sweet songs
song performed by by Phish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Descry
I stood in a grand wood alone
whispering to God upon his throne:
' Is it truly true
nothing is more powerful
than magnificent You? '
Then, I stood by the great ocean
and whispered to God:
'Can You hear me above the roar?
How will You find me,
my footprints have washed away all along the shore? '
Finally, I stood upon the highest mountain top
and whispered to God:
'Can you see me now,
the mere speck that I am,
even just a glimpse, somehow? '
No reply came.
Not in words
I could hear.
No powerful voice
loud and clear.
I waited
'til the end
of day.
Then quietly, alone,
I simply walked away.
On my way home
travelling into the dusk,
a desert I did pass through
with a quiet and lonely
darkened view.
Nothing moved,
not a sound.
Except, for the slightest breeze
whisper wonders my way,
through the tops of a few scraggly trees.
I stoped
I looked
I stood.
Amazed at this wind
passing by through the twisted and bent woods.
It was at that moment
in the darkness,
at the edge of desolation, among the lowly trees,
that I became fully aware,
God is everywhere, even right here next to me.
poem by Smoky Hoss
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Listeners
'Is there anybody there?' said the Traveller,
Knocking on the moonlit door;
And his horse in the silence champed the grasses
Of the forest’s ferny floor:
And a bird flew up out of the turret,
Above the Traveller’s head:
And he smote upon the door again a second time;
'Is there anybody there?' he said.
But no one descended to the Traveller;
No head from the leaf-fringed sill
Leaned over and looked into his grey eyes,
Where he stood perplexed and still.
But only a host of phantom listeners
That dwelt in the lone house then
Stood listening in the quiet of the moonlight
To that voice from the world of men:
Stood thronging the faint moonbeams on the dark stair,
That goes down to the empty hall,
Hearkening in an air stirred and shaken
By the lonely Traveller's call.
And he felt in his heart their strangeness,
Their stillness answering his cry,
While his horse moved, cropping the dark turf,
'Neath the starred and leafy sky;
For he suddenly smote on the door, even
Louder, and lifted his head:—
'Tell them I came, and no one answered,
That I kept my word,' he said.
Never the least stir made the listeners,
Though every word he spake
Fell echoing through the shadowiness of the still house
From the one man left awake:
Ay, they heard his foot upon the stirrup,
And the sound of iron on stone,
And how the silence surged softly backward,
When the plunging hoofs were gone.
poem by Walter de la Mare
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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House Of Many Rooms
The sound of the clock ticking
How this old house creeps
Another storm tonight approaches
So restless I can't sleep
Dark filled big long rooms
Portrait of a lady in view
Corridor that never seems to end
From a distance I thought I seen you
House Of Many Rooms
The sound of heavy rain falling
Feelings sourround of another place
An oval mirror hangs on the wall
And there I thought I seen your face
The smell of wild flowers
A gentle breeze blows from outside
Heavy laced dark curtains
A vision of you before my eyes
House Of Many Rooms
poem by Suelynn Walters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Strange Magic
Youre sailing softly through the sun
In a broken stone age dawn.
You fly so high.
I get a strange magic,
Oh, what a strange magic,
Oh, its a strange magic.
Got a strange magic,
Got a strange magic.
Youre walking meadows in my mind,
Making waves across my time,
Oh no, oh no.
I get a strange magic,
Oh, what a strange magic,
Oh, its a strange magic.
Got a strange magic,
Got a strange magic.
Oh, Im never gonna be the same again,
Now Ive seen the way its got to end,
Sweet dream, sweet dream.
Strange magic,
Oh, what a strange magic,
Oh, its a strange magic.
Got a strange magic,
Got a strange magic.
Its magic, its magic, its magic.
Strange magic,
Oh, what a strange magic,
Oh, its a strange magic.
Got a strange magic.
Strange magic strange magic
Oh, what a strange magic strange magic
Oh, its a strange magic.
Got a strange magic.
Strange magic strange magic
Oh, what a strange magic strange magic
Oh, its a strange magic.
Got a strange magic,
Got a strange magic,
You know I got a strange magic,
Yeah, I got a strange magic,
Oo-o-o-oo, strange magic. (fade)
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Stairs....
the stairs show us
a door, and we focus
to the moment when
we arrive at the very
doorstep
anticipating about
a day of an opening
and see finally what is next
what is there
we step upon each
plank
ascend every next
stair
each stair
and the next stair
all the days of our
lives
spending time
with little rest
and sometimes with
nothing at all
sooner we feel
so deceived
having spent so much
time already
ascending
habitually
but not really getting near
that attractive door
and when we notice that
it is too late
our faces have given birth
to all the wrinkles
our heads have grown
all the white hairs
and silences by all means
have sewn our lips
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Red Mustang on the Highway
Why did we
Ever drift apart?
I know, I’ll never see
A woman more astonishing
Than you in a summer dress
Standing elegantly on an apartment terrace
Sunlight in your hair.
Ah, love had me dreaming and believing!
So many lovers smile in the night
Swaying to music,
Once we were there
Locked arm in arm.
One day, I’ll write the poem
That paints perfectly your slender neck
And your gentle hands
Putting on earrings
And then I’ll feel this magic forever.
Dear sweet lady,
There’s a red mustang on the highway,
We should be driving at dusk
To some sleepy seaport town
Where we could drink whiskey sours
On a beach scattered with starlight
And translate the language of romance.
There is only love,
And I know I love you,
My drunken heart is boasting
As if I were worthy of knowing you!
Jazz is playing in this city
The neon signs and the streetlights
Implore me to find you.
Sweet lady, can you hear them?
I swear, I’m ecstatically happy
Remembering your eyes
And whispering your name!
poem by Uriah Hamilton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Stolen Kiss
‘Twas Spring in a desert town
Chill was in the evening air
Desert land bare and brown
I'd longed to see my lady fair
Dressed all in black
She tapped softly at my door
She still possessed a knack
To shake me to my core
Dinner for two at some quiet place
Where time once more stood still
Rekindled love set hearts to race
Life held no greater thrill
We shook hands, said good bye
I chanced “A Stolen Kiss”
Then gone the magic moment
of our romantic bliss...
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sophisticated Lady (She's A Different Lady)
Written by Chuck Jackson, Marvin Yancy and Natalie Cole
Sophisticated lady, sophisticated lady
She's a different lady with a different style
She stands tall and steady like the Eiffel Tower
She is hip to politics but loves her jazz
She's got lots of rhythm she's got lots of class
Everybody knows how she got her name, yeah
Oh, ha, she wears knee length dresses with her high heel steppers
She's not no back stabber but she's sure a pleaser
She talks quiet and gentle, she acts very cool
She sticks close to her lover, she obey God's rules, woh
(Sophisticated lady) Sophisticated lady, yeah
(Sophisticated lady) Oh
(Sophisticated lady) That's her name, that's her name
(Sophisticated lady) Woh, woh
Everybody knows how she got her name
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah----
Woh--, oh, oh, oh, oh
She's the kind of person that you'd like to meet
'Cause she's always smiling and she's always neat
She can start a fire in the coldest man
She's a hip slick sister known throughout the land, oh
(Sophisticated lady) That's her name
Sophisticated lady (sophisticated lady) yeah
Oh, well, woo, woo, woo, woo, woo, woo, hoo, that's her name
Sophisticated lady (sophisticated lady) lady, lady
Sophisticated lady (sophisticated lady) oh
Sophisticated lady, (sophisticated lady) ah
Sophisticated lady (sophisticated lady)
Ooh, ooh (sophisticated lady)
Repeat (Sophisticated lady
song performed by by Natalie Cole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Language of Silence
Silence
a brief pause in a raging fury
Silence
a calmness of steel in euphoric glory
Silence
amidst the passing of gigantic ocean
Silence
in revoking the almighty in full devotion
Silence
a grimace of a mask to hide the pain within
Silence
a quiet confidence after a tough win
Silence
in the gentle fire and devouring flame
Silences
in the glory and recall of lovely name
Silences
in a catsatrophe over mindless disaster
Silences
in the journey to salvation and life thereafter
Silences
in the anthem of nations pride and challenge reckoning
Silences
post the cacaphony after pangs of soul awakening.
poem by Nitin Suresh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There Is a Solemn Wind Tonight
There is a solemn wind to-night
That sings of solemn rain;
The trees that have been quiet so long
Flutter and start again.
The slender trees, the heavy trees,
The fruit trees laden and proud,
Lift up their branches to the wind
That cries to them so loud.
The little bushes and the plants
Bow to the solemn sound,
And every tiniest blade of grass
Shakes on the quiet ground.
poem by Katherine Mansfield
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Quiet Kind
I've never really written a poem
no reason to
But today feels like a day for words
the quiet kind
I wondered if i should tell
you know, about me
what i think
i thought about the
snow, and the night when
we were forever
i wondered if you knew
if you saw right through me
if i was a mystery
or if you never even looked
i thought about what comes next
i wondered if you wondered
if there was something
more
or if we just turned to
dust
and nothing is left
but you
but me
i thought about you today.
Sophisticated Lady
Written by chuck jackson, marvin yancy and natalie cole
Sophisticated lady, sophisticated lady
Shes a different lady with a different style
She stands tall and steady like the eiffel tower
She is hip to politics but loves her jazz
Shes got lots of rhythm shes got lots of class
Everybody knows how she got her name, yeah
Oh, ha, she wears knee length dresses with her high heel steppers
Shes not no back stabber but shes sure a pleaser
She talks quiet and gentle, she acts very cool
She sticks close to her lover, she obey gods rules, woh
(sophisticated lady) sophisticated lady, yeah
(sophisticated lady) oh
(sophisticated lady) thats her name, thats her name
(sophisticated lady) woh, woh
Everybody knows how she got her name
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah----
Woh--, oh, oh, oh, oh
Shes the kind of person that youd like to meet
cause shes always smiling and shes always neat
She can start a fire in the coldest man
Shes a hip slick sister known throughout the land, oh
(sophisticated lady) thats her name
Sophisticated lady (sophisticated lady) yeah
Oh, well, woo, woo, woo, woo, woo, woo, hoo, thats her name
Sophisticated lady (sophisticated lady) lady, lady
Sophisticated lady (sophisticated lady) oh
Sophisticated lady, (sophisticated lady) ah
Sophisticated lady (sophisticated lady)
Ooh, ooh (sophisticated lady)
Repeat (sophisticated lady)
song performed by by Natalie Cole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Solitude
How still it is here in the woods. The trees
Stand motionless, as if they did not dare
To stir, lest it should break the spell. The air
Hangs quiet as spaces in a marble frieze.
Even this little brook, that runs at ease,
Whispering and gurgling in its knotted bed,
Seems but to deepen with its curling thread
Of sound the shadowy sun-pierced silences.
Sometimes a hawk screams or a woodpecker
Startles the stillness from its fixed mood
With his loud careless tap. Sometimes I hear
The dreamy white-throat from some far-off tree
Pipe slowly on the listening solitude
His five pure notes succeeding pensively.
poem by Archibald Lampman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Quiet Everyone
Quiet everyone
I say “Quiet”
Your voices attract disturbances
To my fragile ears like a magnet
Bring forth thy instrument of tranquillity
The bearer of all peaceful placidity
Impose it upon my genial sanity
Let’s have some peace and quiet
For once, this instance
Quietness is a precious piece of sound
Just before words get around
Breaking the strong bond
Of which is required to concentrate
Quietness imposes on our mental state of being,
A certain calmness amongst all this glorified madness
Only in silent thoughts
Can one create the ultimate
Relax and consciously meditate
Copyright 2005 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Fickle Breeze
Sighing softly to the river
Comes the loving breeze,
Setting nature all a-quiver,
Rustling through the trees!
And the brook in rippling measure
Laughs for very love,
While the poplars, in their pleasure,
Wave their arms above!
River, river, little river,
May thy loving prosper ever.
Heaven speed thee, poplar tree,
May thy wooing happy be!
Yet, the breeze is but a rover,
When he wings away,
Brook and poplar mourn a lover!
Sighing well-a-day!
Ah, the doing and undoing
That the rogue could tell!
When the breeze is out a-wooing,
Who can woo so well?
Pretty brook, thy dream is over,
For thy love is but a rover!
Sad the lot of poplar trees,
Courted by the fickle breeze!
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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Mary Magdalene At The Door Of Simon The Pharisee.
“WHY wilt thou cast the roses from thine hair?
Nay, be thou all a rose,—wreath, lips, and cheek.
Nay, not this house,—that banquet-house we seek;
See how they kiss and enter; come thou there.
This delicate day of love we two will share
Till at our ear love's whispering night shall speak.
What, sweet one,—hold'st thou still the foolish freak?
Nay, when I kiss thy feet they'll leave the stair.”
“Oh loose me! Seest thou not my Bridegroom's face
That draws me to Him? For His feet my kiss,
My hair, my tears He craves to-day:—and oh!
What words can tell what other day and place
Shall see me clasp those blood-stained feet of His?
He needs me, calls me, loves me: let me go!”
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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For My Lady
My boat sails stormy seas
Battles oceans filled with tears
At last my ports in view
Now that Ive discovered you
Oh Id give my life so lightly
For my gentle lady
Give it freely and completely
To my lady
As life goes drifting by
Like a breeze shell gently sigh
And slowly bow her head
Then youll hear her softly cry.
Oh Id give my life so lightly
For my gentle lady
Give it freely and completely
To my lady
Words that you say when were alone
Though actions speak louder than words
But all I can say is I love you so
To drive away all my hurt
Oh Id give my life so lightly
For my gentle lady
Give it freely and completely
To my lady
Set sail before the sun
Feel the warmth thats just begun
Share each and every dream
They belong to everyone.
Oh Id give my life so lightly
For my gentle lady
Give it freely and completely
To my lady
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Poplar and the Moon
There stood a Poplar, tall and straight;
The fair, round Moon, uprisen late,
Made the long shadow on the grass
A ghostly bridge ’twixt heaven and me.
But May, with slumbrous nights, must pass;
And blustering winds will strip the tree.
And I’ve no magic to express
The moment of that loveliness;
So from these words you’ll never guess
The stars and lilies I could see.
poem by Siegfried Sassoon
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Taking Title
TO make this little house my very own
Could not be done by law alone.
Though covenant and deed convey
Absolute fee, as lawyers say,
There are domestic rites beside
By which this house is sanctified.
By kindled fire upon the hearth,
By planted pansies in the garth,
By food, and by the quiet rest
Of those brown eyes that I love best,
And by a friends bright gift of wine,
I dedicate this house of mine.
When all but I are soft abed
I trail about my quiet stead
A wreath of blue tobacco smoke
(A charm that evil never broke)
And bring my ritual to an end
By giving shelter to a friend.
This done, O dwelling, you become
Not just a house, but truly Home!
poem by Christopher Morley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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