The New House
NOW first, as I shut the door,
I was alone
In the new house; and the wind
Began to moan.
Old at once was the house,
And I was old;
My ears were teased with the dread
Of what was foretold,
Nights of storm, days of mist, without end;
Sad days when the sun
Shone in vain: old griefs and griefs
Not yest begun.
All was foretold me; naught
Could I foresee;
But I learnt how the wind would sound
After these things should be
poem by Edward Thomas
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Related quotes
Summer Wind
The summer wind, came blowin' in
From across the sea
It lingered there, to touch you hair
And walk with me
All summer long, we sang a song
And strolled the golden sand
Two sweethearts, and the summer wind
Like painted kites, the days and nights went flyin' by
The world was new, beneath a blue umbrella sky
Then softer than, a piper man one day it called to you
And I lost you, to the summer wind
The autumn wind, and the winter winds have come and gone
And still the days, the lonely days go on and on
And guess who sighs his lullabies through nights that never end
Well my fickle friend, the summer wind
That old summer wind
Talkin' 'bout the summer wind
The summer wind
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Summer Wind
The summer wind, came blowin' in - from across the sea
It lingered there, to touch your hair and walk with me
All summer long, we sang a song - and then we strolled that golden sand
Two sweethearts, and the summer wind
Like painted kites, those days and nights - they went flyin' by
The world was new, beneath a blue - umbrella sky
Then softer than, a piper man - one day it called to you
I lost you, I lost you to the summer wind
The autumn wind, and the winter wind - they have come and gone
And still the days, those lonely days - they go on and on
And guess who sighs his lullabies - through nights that never end
My fickle friend, the summer wind
song performed by by Westlife
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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And The Rains Descended And The Floods Came
NOW the far waves roll nearer and more near,
The wind's awake, the pitiless wind's awake,
It shrieks the menace that I dare not hear,
Soon at my feet the angry waves will break
In desolating wrath--and here I stand
Helpless my house is built upon the sand.
O you, whose house upon a rock is set,
Laugh, safe and sure, at threatening wave and wind.
You chose the better part and yet--and yet,
There was no other ground that I could find,
And I was weary and I longed to raise
A house to guard my shivering nights and days.
And it was pleasant in the house I made,
While still the floods and winds were held asleep.
I blessed it at the dawn, at night I prayed
As though its dear foundations had been deep
Sunk in the rock. I whispered in surmise,
'What if winds never wake, floods never rise?'
And now the waves are near and very near,
And here I wait and wonder which may be
The wave in which my house will disappear,
My little house that loved and sheltered me,
Where joy still sings, her garland in her hand,
Built on the sand, oh God, built on the sand!
poem by Edith Nesbit
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All Around
I look to the east when the day
Is done and think of it all
All the thoughts that Ive seen of
Satin seams and tide pool dreams
I look to the sun
As the day is dawning
I carry my dreams
From a moment before
I try to recall
But I find myself yawning
I guess they are gone but theres more
So I head out the door
All around, listen and you can
Hear the sound
On cloudy days seems like i
Always feel this way
First break in the day if the time
Is right and nobody minds
I stroll down the lane take a breath
Of air and drift on a dream
I look to the sun
As the day is warming
Consider the things
That have happened before
I feel like Im one
With the wind on the hillside
I feel like Im one with the
River that runs by my door
All around, listen and you can
Hear the sound
On cloudy days seems like i
Always feel this way
All around, listen and you can
Hear the sound
On cloudy days seems like i
Always feel this way
I look to the sun
As the day is dawning
I carry my dreams
From a moment before
I feel like Im one
With the wind on the hillside
I feel like Im one with the
River that runs by my door
All around, listen and you can
Hear the sound
On cloudy days seems like i
Always feel this way
(repeat and fade)
song performed by by America
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Sounds
i heard the sound of the clock ticking
some things come
i am remembering these some things
burnt, and melting in my forehead,
i like the sound of the ticking of grandfather's
clock at night, i hear footsteps
and drippings of water
from the gutter to the floor
the window is closed and the wind makes
the sound of someone caught between
door jambs, creaking sounds creeping
on the wall, something is terrible, really terrible
and i turn my body to the left side,
there is this storm, and the strong rain comes
with the grunting wind, and trees are falling
unto each other, i hear leaves and twigs,
and the roof wanting to leave the house,
something is terribly happening on this night
of the suicidal darkness, the shimmer of the river
looks like a stainless knife
who's there? i ask the door. The mirror on the other
side answers, how dare you?
it is nobody. it is just myself, my mouth answers.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Day 1
Happy days!
Days of fun
Days of shine
Days of sun
Happy days!
Days I won
Days I earned
Today has just begun
Happy days!
Days I dread
To wake up
With a burning head
Happy days!
For which I wait
With furnished fear
And hollow hate.
Upstairs In My House
No one knows what I can see and and what I see it pleases me on my roof
South pacific hot sea pool, coney island amusement school for mispent youth
Its all in my own front yard, seagulls grazing in the park and foreshore
South-east wind pins back my ears, luna park lights up the years of painless days
I like it, upstairs in my house
Dealers selling junk and trash, people spend their hard earned cash on sundays
Its quiet when they fade away, westgate bridge breakes up the day, into red sky
I like it, upstairs in my house, upstairs in my house
No one knows what I can see and what I see it pleases me on my roof
I like it, upstairs in my house, upstairs in my house
song performed by by Men At Work
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Not A Dry Eye In The House
Not a dry eye in the house
After loves curtain comes down
Listen and youll hear the sound
Hear the sound of a heart breaking
I can still see you standing there
Midnight wind blowing through your hair
Kisses sweet in the salty air
When love was forever
Turn the page and we fade to blue
The scene has changed now Im without you
Walked away when the act was through
And the dream was over
It was almost like a movie - the way you said goodbye
You must have a lot of time rehearsing each and every line
Now theres not a dry eye in the house
After loves curtain comes down
Listen and youll hear the sound
Hear the sound of a heart breaking
Not a smile left on my face
The endings just too sad to take
And theres not a dry eye
Not a dry eye in the house
The greatest story was you and me
Had it all we had everything, but now the
Storys done its just history
The last act is over
You every line had the sweetest sound
Your every touch turned my world around
But the light came up and my world crashed down
End of show - its over
It was almost like a movie
Those nights we touched the stars
Time stood still for you and i
Now its sad enough to make you cry
Now theres not a dry eye in the house
After loves curtain comes down
Listen and youll hear the sound
Hear the sound of a heart breaking
Not a smile left on my face
The endings just too sad to take
And theres not a dry eye
Not a dry eye in the house
Act one - the storys just begun
Act two - I fell in love with you
Act three - knew it was meant to be
Act four - you dont love me no more
And theres not a dry eye in the house
After loves curtain comes down
Listen and youll hear the sound
Hear the sound of a heart breaking
Not a smile left on my face
The endings just too sad to take
And theres not a dry eye
Not a dry eye
Not a dry eye in the house
After loves curtain comes down
Listen and youll hear the sound
Hear the sound of a heart breaking
Not a dry eye in the house (3x)
song performed by by Meat Loaf
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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That Pigeon
Tony just brought
a pigeon
in his house
put it in a cage and
feed it
some grains
beside a bowl of
water
Every night since then
i cannot sleep
hearing always the sound
of a sobbing woman
grieving
i keep telling myself
that it is just
a pigeon temporarily
adopting to a momentary loss
of her freedom
Horrible nights
lots of horrible nights
the sounds of groaning griefs
are penetrating the walls of my mind
until one day
the pigeon died and Tony buried it
beside his house
now the pebbles are giving me
the silence of the dead
the air is so quiet
looking at an empty cage
somehow i feel guilty
not about the pigeon but about Tony
well, the story is quite long
what business do i have there?
last night i was thinking
what if it was Tony who died
and the pigeon went out of that cage
and buried him there
beside that lonely house?
shall i not hear the grieving sounds of
that pigeon again?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Doves
The house where I was born,
Where I was young and gay,
Grows old amid its corn,
Amid its scented hay.
Moan of the cushat dove,
In silence rich and deep;
The old head I love
Nods to its quiet sleep.
Where once were nine and ten
Now two keep house together;
The doves moan and complain
All day in the still weather.
What wind, bitter and great,
Has swept the country's face,
Altered, made desolate
The heart-remembered place ?
What wind, bitter and wild,
Has swept the towering trees
Beneath whose shade a child
Long since gathered heartease ?
Under the golden eaves
The house is still and sad,
As though it grieves and grieves
For many a lass and lad.
The cushat doves complain
All day in the still weather;
Where once were nine or ten
But two keep house together.
poem by Katharine Tynan
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The Mystery House
That door had been shut for years
No sound ever passed its ears
Its eyes were starved, for light,
Inside was just silent Night
Why was it closed, what had it been
Had it some kind of mishap seen
Was it waiting for its master, last,
To free it from some spell he cast
The wood cracked, the metal, rusted
cobwebs on its top vested
' The house of ghosts ',
it was taunted
Little John too knew the house was haunted
Eerie spirits, you could hear all night,
poor Ken, you see, huddled in fright
mother forbade, no one went close
into the death trap, none tried nor chose
' The Winchester House ', it was named once
None gave the manor's house a glance
I believe the house, will forever remain
Yet none its mystery will ever explain.
poem by Vishnu Sampoorn
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I AM, A Testament To Love
I would move mountains, even if for one day,
I were so fortuitous as to have the one, say:
'I love you and I have searched for you all of my days! '
I prayed for its genesis, and now I do, that it stays!
Whether this comes to pass is not now known,
Yet its glory has been foretold and now grown
To be magnificence in need of acceptance;
This is His gift, and we, humble appreciants!
Be not afeared of the love you now hold;
Its power frightens, yet it has been foretold
That our strength is possessed in our faith!
Should we believe, we may create from a wraith,
Something more beauteous, more permanent
Than life itself-I AM, a testament!
-Maurice Harris,19 May 2011
poem by Maurice Harris
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Dropping By Your House This Morning
i dropped by your house this very early morning
the windows are closed
but the door is half-open
and i could have given in to this little curiosity
that cats keep on their paws
and soft feet
or hands if you may
but i didn't. there is something in the houe
that says
you had a bad day and that night you did not have
a sound sleep
the roses are wilting and a flower pot falls on the ground
broken
the soil splashed like spilled water on the grass
there is no sound of the wind
from the storm last night
i just dropped by. I respect you. The door of the house
finally closed
i did not see the hands that closed it.
it maybe yours
or someone else's
the rug has spoken. You want to be alone.
to keep the faint light left
in that little room. the curtains fall. the lights
went off on that very early morning.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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4: 39 A.m.
the strong wind keeps on blowing
howling
above the house and the trees bending
in different directions
there is this sound of tin roofs
about to be blown away
i hear them
and feel the fury
of someone
coming
to the mind of my wife
it is nothing
but a typhoon coming
on schedule
as predicted by the weather bureau
yesterday
and to her
i am just overdoing thoughts
and things
playing always
the role of the poet
even when
the wind is the wind
and nothing
but the wind
and nothing else
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Old House in the Glen
Winter has come and the wind and the rain
Wash over the house in the glen.
It cradles itself as if it were cold
For no one still lives within.
The years have passed over it, leaving it aged
And empty, and lost, without heart,
With no one to live there, no one to care
And the leaves are piled up on the hearth.
If you stand in the doorway, you can feel
Soft music that hangs in the air,
Like the soul of the house that ever lives on
Though there’s no longer any to hear.
The door is now gone, the windows un-paned,
The wood on the roof has gone slack.
But it still lingers on, as if waiting for
The people it loved to come back.
The old house listens, and waits, and sings
As the wind blows in through the door
And the beat of the heart of the house still sounds
Like the tread of their feet on the floor.
poem by Kate Wiley
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Wait In Vain
you're a lover of convenience
who took away my heart ala pirate
hope you return for better experince
cos i'm hurt but can't feel irate
please help me not to wait in vain
i'm sitting here wishing for that day
when you appear from the woods or sea
i wonder what to you i would ever say
if i'll ever see that day i foresee
i hope i won't have to wait in vain
i think i'm about to let go
of all the thoughts of you i kept
from days in scool to long ago
days we laughed and days we wept
it's so sad i had to wait in vain
poem by Ray Anyasi
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Discord in Childhood
Outside the house an ash-tree hung its terrible whips,
And at night when the wind arose, the lash of the tree
Shrieked and slashed the wind, as a ship’s
Weird rigging in a storm shrieks hideously.
Within the house two voices arose in anger, a slender lash
Whistling delirious rage, and the dreadful sound
Of a thick lash booming and bruising, until it drowned
The other voice in a silence of blood, ’neath the noise of the ash.
poem by David Herbert Lawrence
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A Song
I THOUGHT no more was needed
Youth to polong
Than dumb-bell and foil
To keep the body young.
O who could have foretold
That thc heart grows old?
Though I have many words,
What woman's satisfied,
I am no longer faint
Because at her side?
O who could have foretold
That the heart grows old?
I have not lost desire
But the heart that I had;
I thOught 'twould burn my body
Laid on the death-bed,
For who could have foretold
That the heart grows old?
poem by William Butler Yeats
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To Find A Friend
In the mid dle of his life
He left his wife
And ran off to be bad
Boy, it was sad
But he bought a new car
Found a new bar
And went under another name
Created a whole new game
And the days went by like paper in the wind
E verything changed, then changed again
Its hard to find a friend
Its hard to find a friend
Meanwhile then
His wifes boyfriend moved in and
Took over the house
Everybody was as quiet as a mouse
And it changed their lives
Changed their plans
Slowly they grew apart
Boy, it woulda broke your heart
And the days went by like paper in the wind
Everything changed, then changed again
Its hard to find a friend
Its hard to find a friend
A nd the days went by like paper in the wind
Everything changed, then changed again
Its hard to find a friend
Its hard to find a friend
And the days went by like paper in the wind
Everything changed, then changed again
Its ha rd to find a friend
Its hard to find a friend
song performed by by Tom Petty
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shattered windows, Colors of white
Across the street is a new house with a room painted red, with no holes of white.
Next to me, a house purple, with its color pealing off, with holes of black and white
At the end of the street, an old house once yellow, what now remains white.
The sound of a hammer building a house, entering a place with a color unknown.
On the street,
Windows covered with ice
Some shine with light.
Some broken
Some fixed
Some lost, out of sight.
A house, two blocks from here.
Shines with lights of yellow, red, and green everywhere.
A wall keeping the wind from blowing anywhere.
The house next door, at the dawn of the day.
Paints its room black, and peals the color away.
The wall crumbles.
The wind blows across the colors of yellow, red and green
Breaks all the windows.
Turns the yellow to blue, red to black, and green to white.
The house two blocks away.
Adds a line of yellow red and green everyday.
To allow the house of blue, black and white to shine for us some day.
poem by Linda ErikssonBique
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