The Evening Primrose
You know the bloom, unearthly white,
That none has seen by morning light-
The tender moon, alone, may bare
Its beauty to the secret air.
Who'd venture past its dark retreat
Must kneel, for holy things and sweet,
That blossom, mystically blown,
No man may gather for his own
Nor touch it, lest it droop and fall....
Oh, I am not like that at all!
poem by Dorothy Parker
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Song: Tis Not the Beam
'Tis not the beam of her bright blue eye,
Nor the smile of her lip of rosy dye,
Nor the dark brown wreaths of her glossy hair,
Nor her changing cheek, so rich and rare.
Oh! these are the sweets of a fairy dream,
The changing hues of an April sky.
They fade like dew in the morning beam,
Or the passing zephyr's odour'd sigh.
'Tis a dearer spell that bids me kneel,
'Tis the heart to love, and the soul to feel:
'Tis the mind of light, and the spirit free,
And the bosom that heaves alone for me.
Oh! these are the sweets that kindly stay
From youth's gay morning to age's night;
When beauty's rainbow tints decay,
Love's torch still burns with a holy light.
Soon will the bloom of the fairest fade,
And love will droop in the cheerless shade,
Or if tears should fall on his wing of joy,
It will hasten the flight of the laughing boy.
But oh! the light of the constant soul
Nor time can darken nor sorrow dim;
Though woe may weep in life's mingled bowl,
Love still shall hover around its brim.
poem by Joseph Rodman Drake
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For Lillian
She was so dear, so fair. Her memory stays,
Even her dying robs me not of this,
That I have walked with her in mortal ways
Whose tender beauty now immortal is.
There are sweet flowers that bloom in ways forlorn
And sad sweet eyes whose beauty is a flower
Blown in the night to which there is no morn,
Dream-born and dying in its dewy bower;
And she was such a flower, her sweet eyes such;
The secret hours that only the heart knows
Thrill with the glamour of her tone and touch
Like music that is sweetest at the close,
Falling to death as falls the fairest thing
Beyond the power of love's recovering.
poem by Robert Crawford
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One Sweet Tender Touch
Heartbeat, way down on cove street
Playing to lady luck, awaiting that tender touch
Fantasy is the trick of the dance you see
Hiding that need for love and wanting you close to me
Oh that one sweet and tender touch
Thats what Im missing and need so much
One sweet and tender touch
Bright light
Pretty colours that shine on all through the night
I dont need them, not half as much
As Im wanting your tender touch
And loneliness makes the strongest heart a wilderness
Thats wilder than you see, is wanting you close to me
For that one sweet and tender touch
Thats what Im missing and need so much
One sweet and tender touch
song performed by by Chris Rea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Night Sky
Night sky, Night sky
Twinkling stars near by
White moon, white moon
You light up the night in full bloom
The night in display
Watching this sky play
Hiding behind the clouds
Are these silvery bright stars
Ready in action
The sky a distraction
Sweet kiss from these tender lips
And the feeling of love at my finger tips
poem by Noreen Fonseca
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Winter
Clouded with snow
The cold winds blow,
And shrill on leafless bough
The robin with its burning breast
Alone sings now.
The rayless sun,
Day's journey done,
Sheds its last ebbing light
On fields in leagues of beauty spread
Unearthly white.
Thick draws the dark,
And spark by spark,
The frost-fires kindle, and soon
Over that sea of frozen foam
Floats the white moon.
poem by Walter de la Mare
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Lover Of My Soul
When I see the winter turning into spring
Oh, it speaks to this heart of mine
More than anything
Underneath a blanket of snow, cold and white
Something is stirring in the still of the night
And then the sun comes up, slowly with the dawn
Oh, this is the kind of feeling
That I hang my hope upon
There is love and beauty in all that I see
And no one, nobody, is explaining You to me
And maybe my eyes can't see
But You are surrounding me
Here in the wind and rain
The things that I know
Tender and sweet, and strong as my need
I know the voice, I know the touch
Lover of my soul
And when the evening comes, and sunlight fades to red
And time and time and time again
I whisper in my head
'Give me strength, give me faith', to fully believe
That the Maker of this whole, wide world
Is a Father to me
And maybe my eyes can't see
But You are surrounding me
Here in the wind and rain
The things that I know
Tender and sweet, and strong as my need
I know the voice, I know the touch
Lover of my soul
I need the voice, I need the touch
And maybe my eyes can't see
But You are surrounding me
Here in the wind and rain
The things that I know so well
Tender and sweet, and strong as my need
I know the voice, I know the touch
Lover of my soul
I know the voice, I know the touch
Lover of my soul
Talkin' to me and the things I know
Oh, You're the lover of my soul
Talkin' to me and the things I know
You are the lover of my soul
Talkin' to me and the things I know
You are the lover of my soul
In the wind, and the rain, and the snow...
You are the lover of my soul
song performed by by Amy Grant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Raincoat And A Rose
Heartbeat, way down on Cove Street;
Playing to lady luck, awaiting that tender touch
Fantasy, is the trick of the dance you see;
Hiding the need for love, and wanting you close to me
Oh, that one sweet and tender touch
That's what I'm missing, I need so much;
And one sweet and tender touch oh
Bright light, pretty colours that shine on all through the night;
I don't need them not half as much, as I'm wanting your tender touch
And loneliness, makes the strongest heart a wilderness;
That's wilder than you see, is wanting you close to me
song performed by by Chris Rea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Blood Red Rose Reborn
Dedicated to Rosse Nor with love and best wishes.
hate vile poison grey
pour revenge away
bitter is taste of decay
the rose was not born
bud into new bloom,
as a secret ceremonial mask
to hide dark rooted emotions,
it is time for the rose
to slip into new bud,
born of lessons learned,
to life spread in beauty,
petals spread overlapping
in sweet scented symmetry,
leave the past and dark souls,
to impale upon sharp thorns
their own prey flesh piercing,
leave the past and dark souls,
to impale upon discarded thorns
of your freedom spread leaving,
while you spread in new growth,
new bloom new beauty released
the blood red rose renewed reborn,
in moonlight in the dawn red
throughout the day of parched heat
the blood red rose fresh grows
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Your Beauty
Your beauty lives within my heart
As if a warming flame,
As if a poet to impart
The sigh that is your name...
Your beauty gives me constant grace
Like those with souls reborn,
Like those who seek God's sweet embrace
And to His love are drawn...
Your beauty breaks what shackles hold,
Releasing me at last,
Releasing hopes as joys unfold
To overcome the past...
Your beauty makes a brighter day
With every smile you share,
With every touch you lead the way
In answer to each prayer...
Your beauty glows to light my path,
For each step I explore,
For each decision's aftermath
And yet you mean much more...
Your beauty fills me every hour,
To bless all things I do,
To bless me with your holy power,
No wonder I love you...
So from Heaven, watch above me,
Where all God's angels throng...
If I love you and you love me,
Together we are strong...
The universe is just a scroll
That time reveals to all,
Until your word completes its goal
And at your feet we fall...
Denis Martindale, copyright, April 2011.
poem by Denis Martindale
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On to the lighter side of life
Time for the lighter side of life
Like standing on a garden seeing flowers bloom
In a constant rain
Looking at
Red petals of a china rose,
Seeing a yellow butterfly
So lightly floating in air, fluttering
A very light sight
You seldom see, you have been too
Contained inside
The theoretical workings of your mind,
You are touching leaves
Of a maiden’s hair, it feels so light
Some morning dews like pearls still
Attached to a white rose
You touch it with your fingers,
It feels so light, you take some deep breaths
And some sighs, you stretch your body,
Touching some dancing ladies
In full array in bloom in
Sunshine, you touch sunlight
It feels so light, so light you feel like
You are levitating to all these now
You miss these lighter things,
Your head is heavy with a lot of nonsense things,
Your neck pains, your heart pains,
Perhaps it is time to breathe,
now embrace these lighter things.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Morning Moon Gives Its Last Light
THE MORNING MOON GIVES ITS LAST LIGHT
The morning moon gives its last light
The sky is harshly grey and white-
I walk home from shul
Brisk wind and dark leaves,
All Freshness around me
Exultantly free.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Insatiable Desire
Oh, Lord, My moon, see my plight,
The whole day, the sun I fight,
And my petals I keep closed tight
For you, over the horizon right,
To rise in the starry night,
And kiss me with your cool light.
Oh, Lord, My moon, I now sight
Your luminous mien, so coolly bright,
My coyness with your touch is in flight—
I unfold myself with no fright,
In ecstasy, I dance with all my might
From the shimmering waters of the bight.
Oh, Lord, My moon, I now sight,
The happiness you bestow from infinite height,
The distance that parts us is the day-light,
I wish, I could soar past the kite in delight,
To touch your feet in reverence spright.
But alas! I droop down with incurable blight!
poem by Chandra Thiagarajan
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In The Garden III: An Interior
THE grass around my limbs is deep and sweet;
Yonder the house has lost its shadow wholly,
The blinds are dropped, and softly now and slowly
The day flows in and floats; a calm retreat
Of temper'd light where fair things fair things meet;
White busts and marble Dian make it holy,
Within a niche hangs Durer's "Melancholy"
Brooding; and, should you enter, there will greet
Your sense with vague allurement effluence faint
Of one magnolia bloom; fair fingers draw
From the piano Chopin's heart-complaint;
Alone, white-robed she sits; a fierce macaw
On the verandah, proud of plume and paint,
Screams, insolent despot, showing beak and claw.
poem by Edward Dowden
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O Beauty of Night...
As the golden sun goes to rest,
And the sky drape into black blanket,
Now take your turn
O beauty of Night – Moon.
Variety of moods makes me wonder,
Sometimes you look like circular disc,
At times spongy ball of cotton
O beauty of Night – Moon.
Eyes long to catch the glimpse,
Hands reach to hold you,
Lips hum song for you,
O beauty of Night – Moon.
Play not hide & seek,
Cover not behind the dark cloud
Unveil your beauty for me to gaze
O beauty of Night – Moon.
Cool gentle breeze blowing in silent night
Urge my heart to
Bathe in the white beam
O beauty of Night - Moon.
Reflection of my love I see in you
Fall down from the starry sky
To hold you in my arms
O beauty of Night – Moon.
poem by Geeta Nair
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Winter Flowers
Winter flowers bloom
Like light shining through dark
Growing in untouchable desolation
Icicles hang
Glinting in the morning light
Frozen decorations
Coming each year
Chilling nights
Below a silver moon
The restless howls
Of a spiteful wind
With frozen beauty everywhere
Yet looking forward to spring
poem by Autumn Winds
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Nightbird On A Winter Branch
Nightbird on a winter branch.
Dark blossom of the new moon,
Last kiss on the eyelids of the dead
As the snow falls like apple bloom.
I see you’ve left the door ajar:
The backdoor of an eclipse
To let the first crescent of the light out.
The sacred syllable of the mistfits
Lost in the silence and the solitude
You raise like heretical mystics into songs
That only you alone can sing
So that each in their homelessness belongs
To the false dawn of the same secret
They weep over like empty lockets
That stole the moon from their windows
As they burned at the stake, rockets
Martyred in the fire of the holy books
That inspire them deeper into exile
This late at night far from anywhere
Distance is measured by the mile
And not the wingspan of the light-years
It’s taken me to write this.
Like a bird that flew out of the darkness,
That left no trace of the witness
As it blew a kiss of sudden insight.
A word in passing from the dead
About who’s behind the death mask
Of the snow that’s covering my head
Like the polar ice cap of a planet
With the prophetic wisdom of a skull.
Life in the birthmark of the new.
Death in the harvest of the moon at full.
Emptiness devoid of all light.
The first sign of renewal in the urn
Of a nightbird on a winter branch.
Diamonds of ice and insight that burn
Like coal in the eyes of a snow man
With the passion of a phoenix born
A star in the cold furnace of the sky.
Where every passage is a rite of return
That hides its brightest jewels
blossoming like enlightenment on the wing
In the dark ore of a nightbird
When a deathmask opens its mouth to sing.
poem by Patrick White
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I, the son of fragile mortality
I, the son of fragile mortality
A living soul and then nothing
me who would be cast as a die
standing and adoring the yellow sunset declines
and its long rays and shades the landscapes shines
to mark the barks of trees and flowers stems all with golden light
that lit the dark slant woods of dusk with silvery white
all quiet and calm before the moon takes its roll in the East
adoring all this holy scene I realized that
I am not even a leaf on the blooming bough
Just not a part of this beauty and bloom
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Moonlight Sestina
While reading Li Po, I fall
Asleep, and dream of the moon
My body lies on white
Cool sheets, flooded in a pool
Of moonlight. Lost in a dream
I lie in light, floating.
Like a full moon floating
On waves, I feel the fall
And rise, the tide of these dream
Currents. Closer, the moon
Approaches to my pool
Of flesh, shining me white.
From the glare of waxing white,
Gauze curtains – breeze floating -
Shield this rippling pool,
Become a waterfall,
And break the mirror moon-
Light through wet prisms, I dream.
Is this Shechinah? my dream
Self asks. At once the cold white
Chills me to ice. The moon
Swells until it's a floating
City, waiting to fall -
Atlantis – in the pool.
I yearn to be that pool
Skin, transparent as dream.
Instead I fear the moon fall:
I cannot part the white
Sea of thighs, Still floating
Whole, I cry to the moon:
“I am not ready, Moon”
Silence shimmers my pool,
But brightness fades, Floating
Away. Then from the dream
I emerge, weeping white
Tears that shine like star-fall.
Li Po's moon plunge sank dream
Deep. Whirlpool of lunar white
Drowns us; floating, we fall.
poem by Lillian Susan Thomas
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Teach Me O Moon
Teach me O moon to be just like you
Teach me O moon to glow brightly as you do
To glow so strongly more than any shiny star
Teach me O moon to be so beautiful as you are
To be an example of the ultimate talking beauty
Teach me O moon to perform well my duty
As thou always do when you show up every night
And spread to the whole dark world thy shy light
Teach me O moon to always rise whenever I fall
And to break with the hammer of determination that wall
The wall of hardships, sorrows, despair and darkness
The wall of ignorance, pessimism, weakness and sadness
Teach me O moon to always return for the beloved ones
And to be like a tender mother to her sons
Teach me O moon to soar up in the vast sky
So that people shall raise their heads to see me flying high
Teach me O moon to be always so peaceful and calm
And teach me O moon to be always better than I am
poem by Jawad Al Harake
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Just A Bit Of Light Is Enough
A bit of light will be enough
To reach again for my lost delights
With a bit of light may I can revive to get back my broken wings
With bit of light I will try
May I can fly
With bit of light may I can once again touch far skies
A bit of light may gives me the courage to scream
May I can freely cry even smile or fall
In love
Just a bit of light will be enough
To gather one more time again to put together my broken spirit
May my soul from the dark escapes free and finds the light.
poem by Sossi Khachadourian
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