Missing puzzle piece
Missing puzzle piece
(of beauty)
I heard your whisper
when I were asleep,
and I smelled your sent
like you were laying right next to me. And truly, truly! ! ! I wanted something I....wanted something that would be impossible to get, that is to have you presently right beside me. The water that flowed from my eyes became the birthing place where I felt love grow on thee inside from a person that was called ugly, and made to feel like thee cast away like I was thee enemy, but you saw beauty in the mist of the one that others counted out.
poem by Clarence Williams

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My Life's Most Sacred Duty
Dreams do take me back to the beauty,
To love you I shall, for all of my days;
For it is my life's most sacred duty-
Nothing, nor any one may alter my course, or me, phase!
I have dreamt many times since I saw thee last;
Always are you far more beautiful
Now than thou were in the past;
My devotion to thee: unwavering, dutiful!
My first breath, and my last, I owe to thee;
My every gift I possess, I bestow to thee;
A piece of my heart, missing for far too long
Resides with you and is needed, to remain strong!
All ever I have wanted, since able to choose,
Ever taken, in an instant, ever too much to lose!
Maurice Harris,6 March 2008
poem by Maurice Harris

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Grondad's Lullaby
Sleep bonny babby, thi grondad is near,
Noa harm can touch thee, sleep withaat fear;
Innocent craytur, soa helpless an waik,
Grondad wod give up his life for thy sake,
Sleep little beauty,
Angels thee keep,
Grondad is watchin,
Sleep, beauty, sleep.
Through the thick mist of past years aw luk back,
Vainly aw try to discover the track
Buried, alas! for no trace can aw see,
Ov the way aw once trod when as sinless as thee,
Sleep little beauty,
Angels thee keep,
Grondad is watchin,
Sleep, beauty, sleep.
Smilin in slumber,--dreamin ov bliss,
Feelin in fancy a fond mother's kiss;
Richer bi far nor a king on his throne,
Fearlessly facing a future unknown.
Sleep little beauty,
Angels thee keep,
Grondad is watchin,
Sleep, beauty, sleep.
What wod aw give could aw once agean be,
Innocent, spotless an trustin as thee;
May noa grief give thee occasion to weep,
Blessins attend thee!--Sleep, beauty, sleep.
Sleep little beauty,
Angels thee keep,
Grondad is watchin,
Sleep, beauty, sleep.
poem by John Hartley

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Osupa
Thy beauty and thy surgical skin
Is one I ave always like to see
Whenever cometh thee in thy garment
That's no traces of needle and thread
Give me a chance to come to thee
So that I can express my feelings
For thy beauty and so called beauties
Closed my hears to thy criticism
Of sharing thy beauty among word heirs
For thou scat away my fear of thy kingdom
And always show thy love to me at night
Beneath thee bow that boy of piracy
For thy incomparable beauty and love
For me and the rest of the world
poem by sanusi samuel Akanni

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I Love Thee
I love thee—I love thee!
'Tis all that I can say;—
It is my vision in the night,
My dreaming in the day;
The very echo of my heart,
The blessing when I pray:
I love thee—I love thee!
Is all that I can say.
I love thee—I love thee!
Is ever on my tongue;
In all my proudest poesy
That chorus still is sung;
It is the verdict of my eyes,
Amidst the gay and young:
I love thee—I love thee!
A thousand maids among.
I love thee—I love thee!
Thy bright hazel glance,
The mellow lute upon those lips,
Whose tender tones entrance;
But most, dear heart of hearts, thy proofs
That still these words enhance,
I love thee—I love thee!
Whatever be thy chance.
poem by Thomas Hood

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Early Affeection
I loved thee from the earliest dawn,
When first I saw thy beauty's ray;
And will until life's eve comes on,
And beauty's blossom fades away;
And when all things go well with thee,
With smiles or tears remember me.
I'll love thee when thy morn is past
And wheedling galantry is o'er,
When youth is lost in age's blast,
And beauty can ascend no more;
And when life's journey ends with thee,
O then look back and think of me.
I'll love thee with a smile or frown,
Mid sorrow's gloom or pleasure's light;
And when the chain of life runs down,
Pursue thy last eternal flight;
When thou hast spread thy wing to flee,
Still, still a moment wait for me.
I love thee for those sparkling eyes,
To which my fondness was betray'd,
Bearing the tincture of the skies,
To glow when other beauties fade;
And when they sink too low to see,
Reflect an azure beam on me.
poem by George Moses Horton

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The Lamb
Little Lamb, who made thee?
Dost thou know who made thee?
Gave thee life & bid thee feed
By the stream & o’er the mead;
Gave thee clothing of delight,
Softest clothing, wooly, bright;
Gave thee such a tender voice,
Making all the vales rejoice?
Little Lamb, who made thee?
Dost thou know who made thee?
Little Lamb, I’ll tell thee,
Little Lamb, I’ll tell thee:
He is callèd by thy name,
For he calls himself a Lamb.
He is meek, & he is mild;
He became a little child.
I a child, & thou a lamb,
We are callèd by his name.
Little Lamb, God bless thee!
Little Lamb, God bless thee!
poem by William Blake from Songs of Innocence (1789)

Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Is There Any Truth in Beauty?
Is there any truth in Beauty?
What of the lies beauty tells thee?
Could my beauty not be as worthy
As I make thy Beauty part of me?
Such is Beauty as to make one's sight loud.
This beauty that veils our sense in a shroud.
beauty: that which deters seeing the person.
Does Beauty not conceal what is and isn't?
Yet merciless time holds beauty as a hostage,
Defiles Beauty and scars it with lasting ravage.
Thus the years that pass send Beauty to its resting-place
For vain beauty will yield, to woefully fall from grace.
If beauty should ever lament on age's cruelty,
Let not Beauty forget how little it has wept for me.
I Will Not Let Thee Go
I will not let thee go.
Ends all our month-long love in this?
Can it be summed up so,
Quit in a single kiss?
I will not let thee go.
I will not let thee go.
If thy words' breath could scare thy deeds,
As the soft south can blow
And toss the feathered seeds,
Then might I let thee go.
I will not let thee go.
Had not the great sun seen, I might;
Or were he reckoned slow
To bring the false to light,
Then might I let thee go.
I will not let thee go.
The stars that crowd the summer skies
Have watched us so below
With all their million eyes,
I dare not let thee go.
I will not let thee go.
Have we chid the changeful moon,
Now rising late, and now
Because she set too soon,
And shall I let thee go?
I will not let thee go.
Have not the young flowers been content,
Plucked ere their buds could blow,
To seal our sacrament?
I cannot let thee go.
I will not let thee go.
I hold thee by too many bands:
Thou sayest farewell, and lo!
I have thee by the hands,
And will not let thee go.
poem by Robert Seymour Bridges

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The Flowers I See
The belladonna in the valley, so magical in purple, so deadly within me, the nightshade thou possess, and in thee my life fade. The amaryllis in mine soul, thy scarlet leaf haunts me, for in thy scarlet stained grief, mine love and life I see. The blossom canna even thee! with lips stained with vice, from the vice of pleasure you chose, to create the beauty of thine treasure for our souls to greed. The begonia of beauty delicious thy beauty leave, and like all beauty thou deceive, the love pregnant in me. The oriental poppy, thy aroma helps me to sleep and dream of colors as vivid as thee and as unreal as thy petals be, unreal my dreams of thee. O fairy blossoms, in pink and white wing, inside thy petals the butterfly dwells and the spring ferries sing. Ah! there is the rose, with all its beauty in she which grows, wins the hearts of all whom know, that in the rose our love to doth grow. Still all these flowers look pale next to she, the panther in brown, with eyes of ebony, whom stares at me and sees flowers in my gleaming eye and preys on me before I die.
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy

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I need thee...
Like the air I need to breath
The water that flows to meet the sea
I need thee
You complete me
Like the blood in my veins
And the Power of Christ's blood stains
I need thee
You complete me
Like the energy from the sun
The Cheetah's need to run
I need thee
You complete me
I have walked a thousand miles
Seen countless un-genuine smiles
I need thee
You complete me
I have heard so many lies
And created my own alibis
I need thee
You complete me
I have hidden from desperate eyes
Comforted by my lonely lullabies
I need thee
You complete me...
poem by Monciana Edmondson

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The Tomb At Akr Çaar
‘I am thy soul, Nikoptis. I have watched
These five millennia, and thy dead eyes
Moved not, nor ever answer my desire,
And thy light limbs, wherethrough I leapt aflame,
Burn not with me nor any saffron thing.
See, the light grass sprang up to pillow thee,
And kissed thee with a myriad grassy tongues;
But not thou me.
I have read out the gold upon the wall,
And wearied out my thought upon the signs.
And there is no new thing in all this place.
I have been kind. See, I have left the jars sealed,
Lest thou shouldst wake and whimper for thy wine.
And all thy robes I have kept smooth on thee.
O thou unmindful ! How should I forget!
-Even the river many days ago,
The river? thou wast over young.
And three souls came upon Thee-
And I came.
And I flowed in upon thee, beat them off;
1 have been intimate with thee, known thy ways.
Have I not touched thy palms and finger-tips,
Flowed in, and through thee and about thy heels?
How 'came I in'? Was I not thee and Thee?
And no sun comes to rest me in this place,
And I am torn against the jagged dark,
And no light beats upon me, and you say
No word, day after day.
Oh! I could get me out, despite the marks
And all their crafty work upon the door,
Out through the glass-green fields. . . .
Yet it is quiet here:
I do not go.’
poem by Ezra Pound

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Bless Me With Those Eyes!
'A thing of beauty is a joy for ever'
Words of Keats one can forget never
What is beauty - beauty is where
One can enjoy here and there, every where!
Grecian urn a beautiful piece
Niagara falls a beautiful place
Silver streaks of water brings us peace
Hills and dales sure nature's grace!
Does beauty lie in the objects seen
Or lie in the eyes of the seer keen?
Beauty seen in the scorching Sun
Beauty felt in the biting cold
Beauty heard in the melody of birds
Beauty smelt in the fragrance of rose
Beauty tasted in the bitterness of neem
Beauty found sure in every mean(s) !
'Beauty is truth and truth beauty
That is all what ye know on earth
And what all ye need to know'
Words of Wisdom
From votary of beauty
And a devotee of Almighty!
Creator of noble beauty
Harbinger of peace and piety
Bless me with those eyes and mind
Beauty in ugliness that they can find!
Beauty of the mind and beauty of the soul
Sure makes one the wholesome whole!
poem by Subbaraman N V

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Sonnet XXIII: Time, Cruel Time
Time, cruel Time, come and subdue that brow
Which conquers all but thee, and thee, too, stays
As if she were exempt from scythe or bow,
From love or years unsubject to decays.
Or art thou grown in league with those fair eyes
That they may help thee to consume our days?
Or dost thou spare her for her cruelties,
Being merciless like thee that no man weighs?
And yet thou seest thy power she disobeys,
Cares not for thee, but lets thee waste in vain,
And prodigal of hours and years betrays
Beauty and youth t'opinion and disdain.
Yet spare her, Time, let her exempted be,
She may become more kind to thee or me.
poem by Samuel Daniel

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Nearer my God to Thee
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer to Thee
E'en though it be a cross
That raiseth me,
Still all my song shall be,
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer to Thee.
Tho' like a wanderer,
The sun gone down,
Darkness be over me,
My rest a stone,
Yet in my dreams I'll be
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer to Thee.
There let the way appear,
Steps unto heaven;
All that Thou sendest me
In mercy be given,
Angels to beckon me
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer to Thee.
Then with my waking thoughts
Bright with Thy praise,
Out of my stony griefs
Bethel I'll raise;
So by my woes to be
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer to Thee.
Or if, on joyful wing
Cleavihg the sky,
Sun, moon, and stars forgot,
Upward I fly,
Still all my song shall be,
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer to Thee.
poem by Sarah Flower Adams

Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Thou Flower Of Summer
When in summer thou walkest
In the meads by the river,
And to thyself talkest,
Dost thou think of one ever--
A lost and a lorn one
That adores thee and loves thee?
And when happy morn's gone,
And nature's calm moves thee,
Leaving thee to thy sleep like an angel at rest,
Does the one who adores thee still live in thy breast?
Does nature eer give thee
Love's past happy vision,
And wrap thee and leave thee
In fancies elysian?
Thy beauty I clung to,
As leaves to the tree;
When thou fair and young too
Looked lightly on me,
Till love came upon thee like the sun to the west
And shed its perfuming and bloom on thy breast.
poem by John Clare

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This Dance So Prestions To Me
you talk, you think, you try to comprehend
yet you don’t understand
the beauty of them all
they dance around the
beautiful light
so organized around the light
if they shall end
we end the dance so preiouse to me
but this dance hope not to end
not to end to soon
I love one especially
so important
I see thee every night
I watch as you dance your
dance brings you to the full eye
and takes you away
I hope you guide me to my future
I wish I could meet thee
some day I will
just don’t let your dance
take thee away from me
I can’t see thee
no more
I shall cry
for an eternity of tears
but do know we shall
not leave me in my time of need
I live I breath for you
my beauty
no other reason but you
you’ve helped me in the past
unknowingly
and you shall help me
here and now
as the path ahead
is so long and narrow
you will light the path of
uncertainty with
hills and mountains
with trenches as deep as the sea
I love thee
I worship thee I honor thees rules
poem by Camille Jones

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Palpable love, true beauty, wandering in thee
Palpable love, true beauty, wandering in thee
Touching each atom, insinuating in every gene
Playing each organ, in solemn symphony;
I hear thy deaf beauty, thy beauty I feign.
Magnificent, marvelous I seamlessly wonder
Can my mind ever achieve the beauty of thee?
I can only listen and not touch thy thunder;
The musical nature which thou compose me.
No genius, intuition from love's orb
Revolves around thee and the soul thy possess,
For in music and by music thou absorb
All truth, all beauty, that my heart doth obsess.
So orchestrate with thy breathe and uplift me high
Without thy music, I am mortal, I know I shall die…
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy

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Corydon's Supplication To Phyllis
Sweet Phyllis, if a silly swain
May sue to thee for grace,
See not thy loving shepherd slain
With looking on thy face;
But think what power thou hast got
Upon my flock and me;
Thou seest they now regard me not,
But all do follow thee.
And if I have so far presumed,
With prying in thine eyes,
Yet let not comfort be consumed
That in thy pity lies;
But as thou art that Phyllis fair,
That fortune favour gives,
So let not love die in despair
That in thy favour lives.
The deer do browse upon the briar,
The birds do pick the cherries;
And will not Beauty grant Desire
One handful of her berries?
If it be so that thou hast sworn
That none shall look on thee,
Yet let me know thou dost not scorn
To cast a look on me.
But if thy beauty make thee proud,
Think then what is ordain'd;
The heavens have never yet allow'd
That love should be disdain'd.
Then lest the fates that favour love
Should curse thee for unkind,
Let me report for thy behoof,
The honour of thy mind;
Let Corydon with full consent
Set down what he hath seen,
That Phyllida with Love's content
Is sworn the shepherds' queen.
poem by Nicholas Breton

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Ode to Mother Nature
I pray to thee mother nature,
Thine beauty none can match,
Sweet or sour thy feature,
Life or death thee hatch.
Sweet is thy misery,
Sour is thy love,
I ought to be thy slave,
And thine shall guide me from above.
The seasons, some harsh some mellow,
In which some sing and some play bass cello,
Thou bring me happiness,
As thou ar't all beautiful.
An ode I summon to thine stranger,
An ode I summon to thee,
Inside the bearer thy beauty lie,
It's all the magic inside ones eye.
poem by Aditya Mudbhary

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Licia Sonnets 09
Love was laid down, all weary fast asleep,
Whereas my love his armor took away;
The boy awaked, and straight began to weep,
But stood amazed, and knew not what to say.
"Weep not, my boy," said Venus to her son,
"Thy weapons none can wield, but thou alone;
Licia the fair, this harm to thee hath done,
I saw her here, and presently was gone;
She will restore them, for she hath no need
To take thy weapons where thy valour lies;
For men to wound the Fates have her decreed,
With favour, hands, with beauty, and with eyes."
No, Venus, no: she scorns them, credit me;
But robbed thy son that none might care for thee
poem by Giles Fletcher The Elder

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