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The Valley Of Unrest

Once it smiled a silent dell
Where the people did not dwell;
They had gone unto the wars,
Trusting to the mild-eyed stars,
Nightly, from their azure towers,
To keep watch above the flowers,
In the midst of which all day
The red sunlight lazily lay.
Now each visitor shall confess
The sad valley's restlessness.
Nothing there is motionless-
Nothing save the airs that brood
Over the magic solitude.
Ah, by no wind are stirred those trees
That palpitate like the chill seas
Around the misty Hebrides!
Ah, by no wind those clouds are driven
That rustle through the unquiet Heaven
Uneasily, from morn till even,
Over the violets there that lie
In myriad types of the human eye-
Over the lilies there that wave
And weep above a nameless grave!
They wave:- from out their fragrant tops
Eternal dews come down in drops.
They weep:- from off their delicate stems
Perennial tears descend in gems.

poem by Edgar Allan Poe
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The Valley Of Unrest

[Spoken Track]
[Rowena:]
Far away far away
Are not all lovely things far away
As far at least lies that valley
as the bedridden sun in the luminous east
The paralyzed mountains, the sickly river
Are not all things lovely far away
Are not all things lovely far away
It is a valley where time is not interrupted
Where its history shall not be interpreted
Stories of satan's dart of angel wings
Unhappy things
Within the valley of unrest
The sun ray dripped all red
The dell was silent
All the people having gone to war
Leaving no interrogator to mind
the willful looting the pale past knowledge
The sly mysterious stars
The unguarded flowers leaning
The tulips overhead paler
The terror stricken sky
Rolling like a waterfall
over the horizon's fiery wall
A visage full of meaning
How the unhappy shall confess
As Roderick watches like a human eye
While violets and lilies wave
Like banners in the sky
Hovering over and above a grave
As dew drops on the freshly planted eternal dew
Coming down in gems
There's no use to pretend
Though gorgeous clouds fly
Roderick, like the human eye has closed forever
Far away far away
Roderick, whatever thy image may be
Roderick, no magic shall sever the music from thee
Thou hast bound many eyes in a dreamy sleep
Oh tortured day
The strains still arrive
I hear the bells
I have kept my vigilance
Rain dancing in the rhythm of a shower
Over what guilty spirit to not hear the beating
To not hear the beating heart
But only tears of perfect moan
Only tears of perfect moan

song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Graves Of Infants

Infant' graves are steps of angels, where
Earth's brightest gems of innocence repose.
God is their parent, and they need no tear;
He takes them to His bosom from earth's woes,
A bud their lifetime and a flower their close.
Their spirits are an Iris of the skies,
Needing no prayers; a sunset's happy close.
Gone are the bright rays of their soft blue eyes;
Flowers weep in dew-drops oer them, and the gale gently sighs

Their lives were nothing but a sunny shower,
Melting on flowers as tears melt from the eye.
Their deaths were dew-drops on Heaven's amaranth bower,
And tolled on flowers as Summer gales went by.
They bowed and trembled, and they left no sigh,
And the sun smiled to show their end was well.
Infants have nought to weep for ere they die;
All prayers are needless, beads they need not tell,
White flowers their mourners are, Nature their passing bell.

poem by John Clare
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To My Creator....

THE RESTLESSNESS of my soul
has no shore,

the cravings of the heart
has no sky

wave upon wave of time i am this wind
without any anchor

till You finally hold me.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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When Love Returns

Love will come again.
Like sweet summer rain
On sleeping fields of flowers.
Fragrant and new.
Sunlit and blue.
She leaves her ivory towers
My Princess,
And calls my name
On sweetest birdsong breeze.
Like moonlight
Through the trees.
Wild beauty
Time can't tame.
Magic fills my frame.
And my soul dances
Like stars as we sleep unaware.
Then my wounded heart
Will weep
To silent fanfare.
To be free of constant pain
When love returns again.

poem by Kevin East
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Weep No More

Mary, don't you weep no more
Mary, don't you weep no more
'Cuz, I got your letter today
Pack my bags and I'm on my way
So, don't you weep no more
Don't you weep no more
Dry your eyes
Don't you shed no tears
The sun is risin'
So, put away your fears
Cuz, I know I once done you wrong
I want to say I'm sorry
And I'm comin' back home
So, don't you weep no more
Don' t you weep no more
I hear your voice in the wind
And I feel your tears in the rain
Shadows of night are falling
Can't you hear me call your name
I'm comin' home
I'm comin' home
So, don't you weep
Don't you weep
Don't you weep
Don't you weep no more

song performed by by Bad Company
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Orphan

Alone, alone! - no other face
Wears kindred smile, kindred line;
And yet they say my mother's eyes.
They say my father's brow, is mine;
And either had rejected to see
The other's likeness in my face,
But now it is a stranger's eye,
That finds some long forgotten trace.

I heard them name my father's death,
His home and tomb alike the wave;
And I was early taught to weep,
Beside my youthful mother's grave.
I wish I could recall one look, -
But only one familiar tone;
If I had aught of memory,
I should not feel so all alone.

My heart is gone beyond the grave,
In search of love I cannot find,
Till I could fancy soothing words
Are whisper'd by the ev'ning wind:
I gaze upon the watching stars,
So clear, so beautiful above,
Till I could dream they look on me
With something of an answering love.

My mother! does thy gentle eye
Look from those distant stars on me?
Or does the wind at ev'ning bear
A message to thy child from thee?
Dost thou pine for me, as I pine
Again a parent's love to share?
I often kneel beside thy grave,
And pray to be a sleeper there.

The vesper bell! - 'tis eventide,
I will not weep, but I will pray:
God of the fatherless, 'tis Thou
Alone canst be the orphan's stay!
Earth's meanest flower, heaven's mightiest star,
Are equal to their Maker's love.
And I can say, 'Thy will be done,'
With eyes that fix their hopes above.

poem by Letitia Elizabeth Landon
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Caprice

Blue and gold, and mist and sunlight,
Veils of colour blent and blown
In melodic monotone.
Dark and bright, and white and dun light
Clash and flash, as into one light
Trembling thro’ an opal stone,
Over green robes of the mountain
And the blue skirts of the sea,
Spreading from a sacred fountain
Hymeneal harmony.

Drums and trumpets of the ocean,
Oboe spirits of the wind,
Violins of forest kind,
Flutes that breathe the trees’ devotion,
Blending, hymn the joyous motion
Of the universal mind,
When, with chariot cavorting,
And a storm of symphonies,
Horses snorting, banners sporting,
Ocean Seas wed Harbour Seas.

Salt of waves, and scent of roses,
Seaweed strown along the sand,
Blossoms blown from high head-land,
As the Ocean-Lord reposes
Where the Harbour dreams and dozes,
Sultan and Sultana bland,
Rocky shrubs, earth, fragrant grasses
Spiced with sand and sea and sun,
As the gay procession passes,
Know that all things are but one.

At the sun a wave laughs, leaping
Thro’ intoxicating air
Like a child with tossing hair.
But a sea-gull, vigil keeping
Flutters, musically sweeping,
Delicate and debonair,
Where the wave leaps, lightly wheeling,
Like a flash of amethyst
Clasps the wave, then leaves her, stealing
Kisses by the sunshine kissed.

Bird that brilliant pinion flies on
Thro’ the azure atmosphere
Pipes a duet, sweet and clear,
With the wind the sunlight lies on;
Sea weds Sky on dim horizon,
And the distant joins the near.
Wave and cloud, and fish and swallow,
Swaying tree and flying bird
Music maddened, flee and follow
Till pale mortals, too, are stirred.

Over all things Love stands warder.
Cloud seeks wave, while close behind
Cloud is followed by the wind.
Dionysean disorder
Laughs, and leaps o’er bar and border,
Breaks the shackles of the mind;
And in wine-enchanted weather
Culls, that life and joy be one,
Grapes to mix all things together
From the Garden of the Sun.

Nature takes delight in shedding
Love that joins with benison
All the elements in one;
And to-day the feast is spreading
Till her creatures all are wedding,
And of sorrow there is none…
So the Summer Day rehearses
Bridal lyrics mad to sing
As a viol or a verse is,
Of the joy of everything.

poem by Louis Esson
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The Voiceless

WE count the broken lyres that rest
Where the sweet wailing singers slumber,
But o'er their silent sister's breast
The wild-flowers who will stoop to number?
A few can touch the magic string,
And noisy Fame is proud to win them:--
Alas for those that never sing,
But die with all their music in them!

Nay, grieve not for the dead alone
Whose song has told their hearts' sad story,--
Weep for the voiceless, who have known
The cross without the crown of glory!
Not where Leucadian breezes sweep
O'er Sappho's memory-haunted billow,
But where the glistening night-dews weep
On nameless sorrow's churchyard pillow.

O hearts that break and give no sign
Save whitening lip and fading tresses,
Till Death pours out his longed-for wine
Slow-dropped from Misery's crushing presses,--
If singing breath or echoing chord
To every hidden pang were given,
What endless melodies were poured,
As sad as earth, as sweet as heaven!

poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes
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Wind Eternal And Ever Lasting Wind

Wind eternal and ever lasting Wind
Wherever on earth..there is the element wind

How powerful the strength of the wind
Uplifting a tremendeous deadly tidal wave
Pushing heavy clouds over mountain chain
Magically turning into heavy storm and rain

How fascinating the songs of the wind
Carrying up high the bird on spread wings
Looking almost like the shape of a fairy
So incredibly languishing and airy

How wonderful the feeling of decreasing wind
Blowing incessantly through the season of spring
Blooming flowers seem to shiver in a dance
As falling into a very special kind of trance

How enchanting to play with the wind
The heat blow still lingers
Kite surfs speeding up to be safe
Sails boat surfing on the crown of the wave

How subdued when watching the wind
Reminder of natural forces
Elements like earth wind and fire
For sure they will never ever tire

Wind eternal and ever lasting wind
wherever on earth..there is the element wind…..

poem by Morhardt Carmen Mencita Monoi Angel
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Lost At Sea

Can we try to salvage what we can
From the weight of water and sand
And lifts us up again
Well this world is spinning out of control
Im bracing just to keep hold
As the clouds move in
With a driving wind so strong
Could it be that were lost at sea
And were drowning under the stars
Up to me I would ride this wave
Before we drift too far
What a lonely way to be
Lost at sea
Like a star in a night filled with tears
Make the sadness disappear
cause youre all that I hold dear
Well you walk
Never ever looking back
One defends and one attacks
Theres a thousand reasons to begin again
Could it be that were lost at sea
And were drowning under the stars
Up to me I would ride this wave
Before we drift too far
Take my hand, come to me
Save a life, rescue you, rescue me
Could it be that were lost at sea
And were drowning under the stars
Up to me I would ride this wave
Before we drift too far
Could it be that were lost at sea
And were drowning under the stars
Up to me I would ride this wave
Before we drift too far

song performed by by Bangles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Woodman And The Nightingale

A woodman whose rough heart was out of tune
(I think such hearts yet never came to good)
Hated to hear, under the stars or moon,

One nightingale in an interfluous wood
Satiate the hungry dark with melody;--
And as a vale is watered by a flood,

Or as the moonlight fills the open sky
Struggling with darkness—as a tuberose
Peoples some Indian dell with scents which lie

Like clouds above the flower from which they rose,
The singing of that happy nightingale
In this sweet forest, from the golden close

Of evening till the star of dawn may fail,
Was interfused upon the silentness;
The folded roses and the violets pale

Heard her within their slumbers, the abyss
Of heaven with all its planets; the dull ear
Of the night-cradled earth; the loneliness

Of the circumfluous waters,—every sphere
And every flower and beam and cloud and wave,
And every wind of the mute atmosphere,

And every beast stretched in its rugged cave,
And every bird lulled on its mossy bough,
And every silver moth fresh from the grave

Which is its cradle—ever from below
Aspiring like one who loves too fair, too far,
To be consumed within the purest glow

Of one serene and unapproached star,
As if it were a lamp of earthly light,
Unconscious, as some human lovers are,

Itself how low, how high beyond all height
The heaven where it would perish!—and every form
That worshipped in the temple of the night

Was awed into delight, and by the charm
Girt as with an interminable zone,
Whilst that sweet bird, whose music was a storm

Of sound, shook forth the dull oblivion
Out of their dreams; harmony became love
In every soul but one.

...

And so this man returned with axe and saw
At evening close from killing the tall treen,
The soul of whom by Nature’s gentle law

Was each a wood-nymph, and kept ever green
The pavement and the roof of the wild copse,
Chequering the sunlight of the blue serene

With jagged leaves,—and from the forest tops
Singing the winds to sleep—or weeping oft
Fast showers of aereal water-drops

Into their mother’s bosom, sweet and soft,
Nature’s pure tears which have no bitterness;--
Around the cradles of the birds aloft

They spread themselves into the loveliness
Of fan-like leaves, and over pallid flowers
Hang like moist clouds:—or, where high branches kiss,

Make a green space among the silent bowers,
Like a vast fane in a metropolis,
Surrounded by the columns and the towers

All overwrought with branch-like traceries
In which there is religion—and the mute
Persuasion of unkindled melodies,

Odours and gleams and murmurs, which the lute
Of the blind pilot-spirit of the blast
Stirs as it sails, now grave and now acute,

Wakening the leaves and waves, ere it has passed
To such brief unison as on the brain
One tone, which never can recur, has cast,
One accent never to return again.

...

The world is full of Woodmen who expel
Love’s gentle Dryads from the haunts of life,
And vex the nightingales in every dell.

poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Epiphany

Outside the surge of the wind, the wind in the trees,
The rush of leaves, and the sighing in the pine-needles,
Outside the sound of the sea-shore, distant, remembered,
The waves breaking on the gray rocks, and the evening approaching,
The restlessness, and the interminable noise.

Silence in the room, and solitude,
A sense of spaces, remoteness and nearness, and the soul's awareness,

Desolate is the hearts desire
And the loving knows no end,
When the morning in the clouds breaks across the sky,
And the forests sway and bend.

Outside the wind, the wind in the trees,
And the sighing in the tree-tops.

Noises from the town, heedless, unthinking, indistinct,
Recurring, fading,
And silence in the room, and solitude,
The shadowy dimness, the darkness of evening,
A pause in time, and the soul's awareness.

poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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As Many Stars

AS many stars as are aglow
Deep in the hollows of the night
As many as the flowers that blow
Beneath the kindling light;

As many as the birds that fly
Unpiloted across the deep;
As many as the clouds on high,
And all the drops they weep;

As many as the leaves that fall
In autumn, on the withering lea,
When wind to thundering wind doth call,
And sea calls unto sea;

As many as the multitude
Of quiet graves, where mutely bide
The wicked people and the good,
Laid softly side by side;--

So many thoughts, so many tears,
Such hosts of prayers, are sent on high,
Seeking, through all Man's perished years,
A love that will not die.

poem by Mathilde Blind
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Misty-Eyed Maiden

Oh! Misty-eyed maiden!
Your lovely eyes laden with tears.
You weep for your unborn babes
As when Rachel weepeth for her children.

The hour cometh speedily
When your flowing tears
Will mingle with the dust
And be trampled under many feet.

'Twill be useless to cry then,
For men of great avarice
Doth ascend the thrones
Of this fallen world.

So then, cry on misty-eyed maiden;
Weep your heart out,
For soon 'twill all be over
And that terrible holocaust come!

poem by Enoch John
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Sonnet: The Wind

What shakes the trees so violently? ’Tis Wind;
What moves the clouds hither/ thither? ’Tis Wind;
What takes the tornado around? ’Tis Wind;
What brings the sandstorm on the earth? ’Tis Wind.

What makes the cool and gentle breeze? ’Tis Wind
What makes the boughs and leaves to dance? ’Tis Wind;
What makes the autumn leaves to fall? ’Tis Wind;
What makes the honey-bees to fly? ’Tis Wind.

What makes pollen reach in showers? ’Tis Wind;
What makes the dust to climb towers? ’Tis Wind;
What spreads the perfume of flowers? ’Tis Wind;
What makes the rain-clouds advance far? ’Tis Wind.

What makes the Wind to blow? ’Tis God;
What makes a Tempest stop? ’ Tis our Lord.

7-18-2001

poem by John Celes
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A Wave of the Sea

I am a wave of the sea
And the foam of the wave
And the wind of the foam
And the wings of the wind.

My soul’s in the salt of the sea
In the weight of the wave
In the bubbles of foam
In the ways of the wind.

My gift is the depth of the sea
The strength of the wave
The lightness of foam
The speed of the wind.

poem by by unknown author
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The Wind

He shouts in the sails of the ships at sea,
He steals the down from the honeybee,
He makes the forest trees rustle and sing,
He twirls my kite till it breaks its string.
Laughing, dancing, sunny wind,
Whistling, howling, rainy wind,
North, South, East and West,
Each is the wind I like the best.
He calls up the fog and hides the hills,
He whirls the wings of the great windmills,
The weathercocks love him and turn to discover
His whereabouts -- but he's gone, the rover!
Laughing, dancing, sunny wind,
Whistling, howling, rainy wind,
North, South, East and West,
Each is the wind I like the best.

The pine trees toss him their cones with glee,
The flowers bend low in courtesy,
Each wave flings up a shower of pearls,
The flag in front of the school unfurls.
Laughing, dancing, sunny wind,
Whistling, howling, rainy wind,
North, South, East and West,
Each is the wind I like the best.

poem by Amy Lowell
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Wind

He calls up the fog and hides the hills,
He whirls the wings of the great windmills,
The weathercocks love him and turn to discover
His whereabouts -- but he's gone, the rover!
Laughing, dancing, sunny wind,
Whistling, howling, rainy wind,
North, South, East and West,
Each is the wind I like the best.

poem by Amy Lowell
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Fling Out The Anti Slavery Flag

Fling out the Anti-slavery flag
On every swelling breeze;
And let its folds wave o'er the land,
And o'er the raging seas,
Till all beneath the standard sheet,
With new allegiance bow;
And pledge themselves to onward bear
The emblem of their vow.

Fling out the Anti-Slavery flag,
And let it onward wave
Till it shall float o'er every clime,
And liberate the slave;
Till, like a meteor flashing far,
It bursts with glorious light,
And with its Heaven-born rays dispels
The gloom of sorrow's night.

Fling out the Anti-Slavery flag,
And let it not be furled,
Till like a planet of the skies,
It sweeps around the world.
And when each poor degraded slave,
Is gathered near and far;
O, fix it on the azure arch,
As hope's eternal star.

Fling out the Anti-Slavery flag,
Forever let it be
The emblem to a holy cause,
The banner of the free.
And never from its guardian height,
Let it by man be driven,
But let it float forever there,
Beneath the smiles of heaven.

poem by Anonymous Americas
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The Witch Of Mull

'Witch of Mull, the strangers here
Come to wreak their vengeance drear:
Call the wind and call the wrack;
Drown them, drive them, beat them back!'