En.Citatepedia^®.ro

As the Team's Head- Brass

As the team's head-brass flashed out on the turn
The lovers disappeared into the wood.
I sat among the boughs of the fallen elm
That strewed the angle of the fallow, and
Watched the plough narrowing a yellow square
Of charlock. Every time the horses turned
Instead of treading me down, the ploughman leaned
Upon the handles to say or ask a word,
About the weather, next about the war.
Scraping the share he faced towards the wood,
And screwed along the furrow till the brass flashed
Once more.

The blizzard felled the elm whose crest
I sat in, by a woodpecker's round hole,
The ploughman said. 'When will they take it away? '
'When the war's over.' So the talk began –
One minute and an interval of ten,
A minute more and the same interval.
'Have you been out? ' 'No.' 'And don't want to, perhaps? '
'If I could only come back again, I should.
I could spare an arm, I shouldn't want to lose
A leg. If I should lose my head, why, so,
I should want nothing more...Have many gone
From here? ' 'Yes.' 'Many lost? ' 'Yes, a good few.
Only two teams work on the farm this year.
One of my mates is dead. The second day
In France they killed him. It was back in March,
The very night of the blizzard, too. Now if
He had stayed here we should have moved the tree.'
'And I should not have sat here. Everything
Would have been different. For it would have been
Another world.' 'Ay, and a better, though
If we could see all all might seem good.' Then
The lovers came out of the wood again:
The horses started and for the last time
I watched the clods crumble and topple over
After the ploughshare and the stumbling team.

poem by Edward Thomas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Fox

The shepherd on his journey heard when nigh
His dog among the bushes barking high;
The ploughman ran and gave a hearty shout,
He found a weary fox and beat him out.
The ploughman laughed and would have ploughed him in
But the old shepherd took him for the skin.
He lay upon the furrow stretched for dead,
The old dog lay and licked the wounds that bled,
The ploughman beat him till his ribs would crack,
And then the shepherd slung him at his back;
And when he rested, to his dog's surprise,
The old fox started from his dead disguise;
And while the dog lay panting in the sedge
He up and snapt and bolted through the hedge.

He scampered to the bushes far away;
The shepherd called the ploughman to the fray;
The ploughman wished he had a gun to shoot.
The old dog barked and followed the pursuit.
The shepherd threw his hook and tottered past;
The ploughman ran but none could go so fast;
The woodman threw his faggot from the way
And ceased to chop and wondered at the fray.
But when he saw the dog and heard the cry
He threw his hatchet--but the fox was bye.
The shepherd broke his hook and lost the skin;
He found a badger hole and bolted in.
They tried to dig, but, safe from danger's way,
He lived to chase the hounds another day.

poem by John Clare
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Through The Wood

THROUGH the wood, the green wood, the wet wood, the light wood,
Love and I went maying a thousand lives ago;
Shafts of golden sunlight had made a golden bright wood
In my heart reflected, because I loved you so.

Through the wood, the chill wood, the brown wood, the bare wood,
I alone went lonely no later than last year,
What had thinned the branches, and wrecked my dear and fair wood,
Killed the pale wild roses and left the rose-thorns sere?

Through the wood, the dead wood, the sad wood, the lone wood,
Winds of winter shiver through lichens old and grey,
You ride past forgetting the wood that was our own wood
All our own--and withered as ever a flower of May.

poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Crow Sat On The Willow

The crow sat on the willow tree
A-lifting up his wings,
And glossy was his coat to see,
And loud the ploughman sings,
'I love my love because I know
The milkmaid she loves me';
And hoarsely croaked the glossy crow
Upon the willow tree.
'I love my love' the ploughman sung,
And all the fields with music rung.

'I love my love, a bonny lass,
She keeps her pails so bright,
And blythe she trips the dewy grass
At morning and at night.
A cotton dress her morning gown,
Her face was rosy health:
She traced the pastures up and down
And nature was her wealth.'
He sung, and turned each furrow down,
His sweetheart's love in cotton gown.

'My love is young and handsome
As any in the town,
She's worth a ploughman's ransom
In the drab cotton gown.'
He sang and turned his furrow oer
And urged his team along,
While on the willow as before
The old crow croaked his song:
The ploughman sung his rustic lay
And sung of Phoebe all the day.

The crow he was in love no doubt
And [so were] many things:
The ploughman finished many a bout,
And lustily he sings,
'My love she is a milking maid
With red rosy cheek;
Of cotton drab her gown was made,
I loved her many a week.'
His milking maid the ploughman sung
Till all the fields around him rung.

poem by John Clare
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Playmates

It's sixty years ago, the people say:
Two village children, neighbours born and bred,
One morning played beneath a rotten tree
That came down crash and caught them as they fled;
And one was killed and one was left unhurt
Except for certain fancies in his head.
And though it's all so very long ago
He's never left the wood a single day;
I've often met him peeping through the leaves
And chuckling to himself, an old man grey;
And once he started in his cracked old voice:
'We're playing I'm a merchant lost his way,
She's robbers in the wood behind yon tree,
The minute we grow up too big to play' -

poem by Ralph Hodgson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sea-Saw (more writing fun)

If I saw a wood boat afloat
Upon the sea,
Would what I see possibly be
The wood I cut from a tree?

For when I saw a tree
I would like to think I see,
What the wood I saw
Could be.

If all I saw in wood from a tree
Was all I saw that there was to see,
Would what I did saw
Be the wood that I now see?

And if the wood I once did saw
Was indeed made into that ship on the sea,
Would it even be possible to know that here what I see
Is the wood once sawed by me?

All I here would dare to share is:
I see what I saw, and I saw what I see,
And therefore the wood I do saw could one day be
The boat I may see, afloat upon the sea.

See?

poem by Smoky Hoss
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lessons from a Woodpecker

The woodpecker will not give up,
Until the hole it planned is made!
It walks upon the trunk upside,
Its clawed feet holding bark firmly!

It pecks and pecks while turning head;
It bangs and drums upon the tree;
It hammers, chisels, saws and files,
The sharp beak digging circularly!

The pecking actions cause echoes
In air surrounding bird on tree;
With great a force, it pecks each time,
But does not mind feeling giddy!

It pecks and pecks as wood chips fly;
The bristly tongue helps it to clear;
The beak keeps hitting edge of hole,
As head of bird, then goes deeper!

It takes a month to make a hole!
The woodpecker will not give up;
It comes back to the hole each day,
And deepens it some more, some way!

The woodpecker has taught me how
Hard labor, perseverance clicks;
And lo! The nest is filled with love,
As noisy cries come from new chicks!

Yes, Mother Nature teaches all,
Such golden lessons for no fee;
Oh, listen to her daily call;
Success will smile on you, may be!

When one has aimed to do something,
Come in the way, don’t let a thing;
Work till the job is fully done;
Nothing in life, you leave half-done!

Copyright by Dr John Celes 1-15-2010

poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Adonis

The gods did love Adonis, and for this
He died, ere time had furrowed his young cheek.
For Aphrodité slew him with a kiss.
He sighed one sigh, as though he fain would speak
The name he loved, but that his breath grown weak
Died on his lips. So died the summer breeze;
And all the wood was hushed a minute's space,
Where I stood listening underneath the trees,
Until a wood--chat from her secret place
Chirped in an undertone, ``He is not dead,
Not dead, for lo! the bloom upon his face
Is ruddy as the newly--blossomed rose
Which even yet is woven round his head.
But sleep, more sweet than waking dream, doth close
The laughter of his eyes. He is not dead.''

Alone in that fair wood the livelong day
And through the silent night I watched him near.
But in the morning he was fled away,
When broke the dawn upon me cold and clear.
I looked within the thicket where he lay;
And lo! the sod, which he had pressed in death,
Was white with blossoms, scattered from the may,
Which made the thick air sweet with their sweet breath.
But he was gone; and I went o'er the heath,
Clutching, like one distraught, the dim air grey
With dawning,--for a voice encompassed me,
Crying, ``Fair boy, thy youth was but a span,
Yet did it circle in eternity.
Thy epic was accomplishèd. A man
Fills but the measure of his destiny,
And thine was all complete. Ere age began
To mar the royal palace of thy youth
With upper storeys of less perfect plan,
Death, kindly Death, filled with immortal ruth,
Took back the trowel from the builder's hand,
And wrote his `fecit' on thy work of truth.''

poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Frightened Ploughman

I went in the fields with the leisure I got,
The stranger might smile but I heeded him not,
The hovel was ready to screen from a shower,
And the book in my pocket was read in an hour.

The bird came for shelter, but soon flew away;
The horse came to look, and seemed happy to stay;
He stood up in quiet, and hung down his head,
And seemed to be hearing the poem I read.

The ploughman would turn from his plough in the day
And wonder what being had come in his way,
To lie on a molehill and read the day long
And laugh out aloud when he'd finished his song.

The pewit turned over and stooped oer my head
Where the raven croaked loud like the ploughman ill-bred,
But the lark high above charmed me all the day long,
So I sat down and joined in the chorus of song.

The foolhardy ploughman I well could endure,
His praise was worth nothing, his censure was poor,
Fame bade me go on and I toiled the day long
Till the fields where he lived should be known in my song.

poem by John Clare
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Variations on a Theme by Joyce

The war is in words and the wood is the world
That turns beneath our rootless feet;
the vines that reach, alive and snarled,
Across the path where the sand is swirled,
Twist in the night. The light lies flat.
The war is in words and the wood is the world.

The rain is ruin and our ruin rides
The swiftest winds; the wood is whorled
And turned and smoothed by the turning tides.
--There is rain in the woods, slow rain that breeds
The war in the words. The wood is the world.
This rain is ruin and our ruin rides.

The war is in words and the wood is the world,
Sourceless and seized and forever filled
With green vine twisting on wood more gnarled
Than dead men's hands. The vines are curled
Around these branches, crushed and killed.
The war is in words and the wood is the world.

poem by Weldon Kees
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When Orpheus Sweetly Did Complayne

When Orpheus sweetly did complayne
Upon his lute with heavy strayne
How his Euridice was slayne,
The trees to heare
Obtayn'd an eare,
And after left it off againe.

At every stroake and every stay
The boughs kept time, and nodding lay,
And listened bending all one way:
The aspen tree
As well as hee
Began to shake and learn'd to play.

If wood could speake, a tree might heare,
If wood could sound true greife so neare
A tree might dropp an amber teare:
If wood so well
Could ring a knell
The Cipres might condole the beare.

The standing nobles of the grove
Hearing dead wood so speak and move
The fatall axe beganne to love:
They envyde death
That gave such breath
As men alive doe saints above

poem by William Strode
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Knock On Wood

I dont want to lose the good thing that Ive got
If I do, I will surely, I will lose a lot
For your love is better than any love other Ive know
Its like thunder, lightning
The way you love me is frightening
I better knock on wood
Baby
I got superstitious about you, but I cant take change
You got me spinning, baby, spinning in a trance
But your love is better than any other love Ive known
Its like thunder, lightning
The way you love me is frightening
You better knock on wood
Its no secret, but that woman fills my lovin cup
She sees, so ready, that I get enough
And her love is better than any other love Ive known
Its like thunder
Its like lightning
The way you love me is frightening
I better knock on wood
Baby
Better, yes, better
(yes you better knock, knock, knock on wood) yes, I better
(yes you better knock, knock, knock on wood) oh, knock on wood
(yes you better knock, knock, knock on wood) you know I would, would
(yes you better knock, knock, knock on wood) its no secret
(yes you better knock, knock, knock on wood) no, oh, better
(yes you better knock, knock, knock on wood) hangin above me
(yes you better knock, knock, knock on wood) I cant leave her
(yes you better knock, knock, knock on wood) oh no, baby
Knock on wood, woo!

song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I think we have got the wood on South Africa, but that does not mean they are not a good team. They intimidate a lot of teams but we intimidate them. There is no disrespect for South Africa; they are a very good team.

quote by Shane Warne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Do It Again

Standing in the middle of nowhere,
Wondering how to begin.
Lost between tomorrow and yesterday,
Between now and then.
And now were back where we started,
Here we go round again.
Day after day I get up and I say
I better do it again.
Where are all the people going?
Round and round till we reach the end.
One day leading to another,
Get up, go out, do it again.
Then its back where you started,
Here we go round again.
Back where you started,
Come on do it again.
And you think today is going to be better,
Change the world and do it again.
Give it all up and start all over,
You say you will but you dont know when.
Then its back where you started,
Here we go round again.
Day after day I get up and I say
Come on do it again.
The days go by and you wish you were a different guy,
Different friends and a new set of clothes.
You make alterations and affect a new pose,
A new house, a new car, a new job, a new nose.
But its superficial and its only skin deep,
Because the voices in your head keep shouting in your sleep.
Get back, get back.
Back where you started, here we go round again,
Back where you started, come on do it again.
Back where you started, here we go round again,
Day after day I get up and I say, do it again.
Do it again.
Day after day I get up and I say, come on do it again.

song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This Is The Football Season

This is the football Season it is that time of year
When men in the pub talk football as they enjoy their beer
And look forward to September when one club will fly the winner's flag
The team that wins the Premiership gives their fans the right to brag.

Their wives nicknamed the footy widows their husbands at the football club
Or after work talking football with their mates down at the local pub
They take football so seriously 'tis their passion in life
The footy fan loves his football club as much as his children or his wife.

And if their team lose at the weekend they feel and look so sad
What's known as football addiction they seem to have it bad
They feel sad for their football team and the chance of four premiership points gone
But they cheer up and look forward to next weekend's game as the working week wears on.

This is the football Season football has gone to their head
And their football scarves and beanies they even wear to bed
About their team they feel so passionate as if to them it did belong
And 'tis with delight and pride in victory that they sing the club song.

poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Minute Of Your Time

For you to think of me
It would only take a minute of your time
To spare one thought for me
Would you miss just one minute of your time?
When you are far away
I'd like to be part of your time each day
So think of me
A minute of your time
Is all it takes to bring us close
When we are far apart
And if I'm on your mind
I know that there's a chance
You'll ind that I'm there in your heart
One minute ev'ry day
May help to keep the wolf away
Until that moment you are back to stay
But better still I'd like to think of me
Ev'ry minute of your time.

song performed by by Tom Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Three Minute Boy

Here today
Gone this afternoon
Another tune
We almost remember
Whats the story
Sex and drugs again
Business as usual
The clocks already ticking
La la la la
When he was young
Staring at the tv
He watched the fun
Happen to other people
Now they scream
As they run after him
Like a dream
Like elvis and the beatles
A three minute song is all he wrote
He only did it for a joke
They played him on the radio
From tokyo to timbuktu
A three minute boy, aint that somethin?
They named their children after him
The good times rolled beneath his feet
He skipped along the one-way street
Shes a pretty girl
She dont know how it started
She made a movie
He almost remembered
She measured up
They moved into a basement
Were so in love!
They giggled to the nation
La la la la
Three minute millionaire they said
The numbers rattled round his head
They spun him three times round the globe
She waited patiently at home
And all the pretty girls wanted him
In places that hed never been
Too much love will do you in
Forgive forgive forgive forgive
Yeah yeah ooo
Three minute kid is here again
Surrounded by three minute friends
He found someone to understand
To shock the world and hold his hand
No religion, no restraint
No direction, no complaints
No future and no way out
No time now to think about it
All the moneys gone
He dont know what they spent it on
Girlfriends gone off with the jag
Gone back to her mum and dad
Hes curled up on the studio floor
He just cant do it anymore
The flashgun went off without warning
Hell read about it tomorrow morning...
(shes goin out with someone new
In this week at number two
Three minute boy aint that somethin.)

song performed by by Marillion
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Brand New Day (radio Edit)

How many of you people out there
Been hurt in some kind of love affair?
And how many times did you swear
That youd never love again?
How many lonely, sleepless nights?
How many lies, how many fights?
And why would you want to
Put yourself through all of that again?
Love is pain I hear you say
Love is a cruel and bitter way of
Paying you back for all the faith you ever had in your brain
How could it be that what you need the most
Can leave you feeling just like a ghost?
You never want to feel so sad and lost again
One day you could be looking
Through an old book in rainy weather
You see a picture of her smiling at you
When you were still together
You could be walking down the street
And who should you chance to meet?
But that same old smile youve been thinking of all day?
Why don't we turn the clock to zero honey?
Ill sell the stock well spend all the money
We're starting up a brand new day
Turn the clock all the way back
I wonder if shell take me back
Im thinking in a brand new way
Turn the clock to zero sister
Youll never know how much I missed her
Starting up a brand new day
Turn the clock to zero boss
The rivers wide well swim across
We're starting up a brand new day
It could happen to you
Just like it happened to me
There is simply no immunity
There's no guarantee
I say love is such a force if you find yourself in it
You need some time for reflection
You say, baby wait a minute, wait a minute
Wait a minute, wait a minute
Wait a minute, wait a minute
Turn the clock to zero honey
Ill sell the stock well spend all the money
We're starting up a brand new day
Turn the clock to zero Mac
I'm begging her to take me back
Im thinking in a brand new way
Turn the clock to zero boss
The rivers wide we'll swim across
Starting up a brand new day
Turn the clock to zero buddy
Dont wanna be no fuddy duddy
We're Starting up a brand new day
Im the rhythm in your tune
Im the sun and youre the moon
Im the bat and youre the cave
Youre the beach and Im the wave
Im the plough and you're the land
Youre the glove and Im the hand
Im the train and youre the station
Im the flagpole to your nation
I'm the present to your future
You're the wound and I'm the suture
You're the magnet to my pole
I'm the devil in your soul
You're the pupil I'm the teacher
You're the church and I'm the preacher
You're the flower I'm the rain
You're the tunnel I'm the train
Stand up, all you lovers in the world
Stand up and be counted, every boy and every girl
Stand up, all you lovers in the world
We're starting up a brand new day
You're the crop to my rotation
You're the sum of my equation
I'm the answer to your question
If you follow my suggestion
We could turn this ship around
And go up instead of down
You're the pan and I'm the handle
You're the flame and I'm the candle
Stand up, all you lovers in the world
Stand up and be counted, every boy and every girl
Stand up, all you lovers in the world
Starting up a brand new day

song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Brand New Day

Words and music by sting
How many of you people out there
Been hurt in some kind of love affair
And how many times do you swear that youll never love again?
How many lonely, sleepless nights
How many lies, how many fights
And why would you want to put yourself through all that again?
love is pain, I hear you say
Love has a cruel and bitter way
Of paying you back for all the faith you ever had in your brain
How could it be that what you need the most
Can leave you feeling just like a ghost?
You never want to feel so sad and lost again
One day you could be looking
Through an old book in rainy weather
You see a picture of her smiling at you
When you were still together
You could be walking down the street
And who should you chance to meet
But that same old smile that youve been thinking of all day
You can turn the clock to zero, honey
Ill sell the stock, well spend all the money
Were starting up a brand new day
Turn the clock all the way back
I wonder if shell take me back
Im thinking in a brand new way
Turn the clock to zero, sister
Youll never know how much I missed her
Starting up a brand new day
Turn the clock to zero, boss
The rivers wide, well swim across
Started up a brand new day
It could happen to you - just like it happened to me
Theres simply no immunity - theres no guarantee
I say loves such a force - if you find yourself in it
And sometimes no reflection is there
Baby wait a minute, wait a minute
Wait a minute, wait a minute
Wait a minute, wait a minute
Turn the clock to zero, honey
Ill sell the stock, well spend all the money
Were starting up a brand new day
Turn the clock to zero, mac
Im begging her to take me back
Im thinking in a brand new way
Turn the clock to zero, boss
The rivers wide, well swim across
Started up a brand new day
Turn the clock to zero buddy
Dont wanna be no fuddy duddy
Started up a brand new day
Im the rhythm in your tune
Im the sun and youre the moon
Im a bat and youre the cave
Youre the beach and Im the wave
Im the plow and youre the land
Youre the glove and Im the hand
Im the train and youre the station
Im a flagpole to your nation - yeah
Stand up all you lovers in the world
Stand up and be counted every boy and every girl
Stand up all you lovers in the world
Starting up a brand new day
Im the present to your future
Youre the wound and Im the suture
Youre the magnet to my pole
Im the devil in your soul
Youre the pupil Im the teacher
Youre the church and Im the preacher
Youre the flower Im the rain
Youre the tunnel Im the train
Stand up all you lovers in the world
Stand up and be counted every boy and every girl
Stand up all you lovers in the world
Starting up a brand new day
Youre the crop to my rotation
Youre the sum of my equation
Im the answer to your question
If you follow my suggestion
We can turn this ship around
Well go up instead of down
Youre the pan and Im the handle
Youre the flame and Im the candle
Stand up all you lovers in the world
Stand up and be counted every boy and every girl
Stand up all you lovers in the world
Were starting up a brand new day

song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Boy Lives On Our Farm

The boy lives on our Farm, he's not
Afeard o' horses none!
An' he can make 'em lope, er trot,
Er rack, er pace, er run.
Sometimes he drives two horses, when
He comes to town an' brings
A wagon-full o' 'taters nen,
An' roastin'-ears an' things.

Two horses is 'a team,' he says,
An' when you drive er hitch,
The right-un's a 'near-horse,' I guess
Er 'off'--I don't know which--
The Boy lives on our Farm, he told
Me, too, 'at he can see,
By lookin' at their teeth, how old
A horse is, to a T!

I'd be the gladdest boy alive
Ef I knowed much as that,
An' could stand up like him an' drive,
An' ist push back my hat,
Like he comes skallyhootin' through
Our alley, with one arm
A-wavin' Fare-ye-well! to you--
The Boy lives on our Farm!

poem by James Whitcomb Riley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What is it about genus arboretum that socks us in the figurative solar plexus We see a logging truck go cruising down the road, stacked with a bunch of those fresh-cut giants, we feel like we lost a brother. Next thing you know, we're in The Brick, we're flopping money down on the bar. Wood. We're under a roof. Wood. We're walking the floors. Wood. Grabbing a pool cue. That's wood. Our friends in the forest carry a set of luggage from the mythical baggage carousel. Tree of life, tree of knowledge, family tree, Buddha's Bodhi tree. Page one of life, in the beginning. Genesis 322. Adam and Eve. They're kicking back in the garden of Eden and boom, they get an eviction notice. Why is that Lest they should also take of the tree of life, eat and live forever. A definitive Yahweh no-no. Be good to yourself, go out and plant a wet one on a tree.

quote by Diane Frolov
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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