En.Citatepedia^®.ro

A Mother's Voice

I heard my mother's voice again
but as I awoke I knew 'twas when
she'd say to me on many a day
'I love you' before she went away
into the vast expanse, unknown
to any breathing soul that's grown
on earth's laborious stage.
And so my mother's voice comes through
as I travel in dreams exactly to
where she now exists.

Clear and soft I hear her words
in my dreams of her at night.
They bring to me such calm in sound
as if I'm a child, gently bound,
Cradled in arms that soothed my fears
that were there for me for 92 years.
And so that part of me that dreams
keeps me very close it seems
to where she now exists.

poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Her Poetry

Her soft, warm voice soothed me
at 4 years old, as she sat knitting,
reading out loud the poetry
I so loved to hear.

Her agile fingers clicking needles,
her eyes darting from page to pattern,
reading Wordsworth or Keats,
softly with feeling.

At 4 years old she was my world,
my goddess and I was the mischief
who searched for the stitches she ‘dropped'
on our living room floor.

Only in dreams do I hear her voice now,
only in dreams do the words drift over me
and the woollens she'd knit
still sit behind the wardrobe door.

poem by Ruth Walters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Premonition

I see your face in dreams at night
and watch it fade from view.
Why can't I keep it in my dreams
until my dreams are through?

Is this a premonition of
what I dare not say,
that just like in my dreams at night
your face will drift away?

I hear your voice in dreams at night
and find it leaves my ear.
Why can't I keep it in my dreams
forever and a year?

Is this a premonition
of what I fear you'll say,
that just like in my dreams at night
your voice must go away?

poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Good evening, this is music of millions

Do not look for anything farther.
Do not look for anything faster.
Lie gently on my pillow
embroidered with beautiful dreams.
Dreams which the immortal dream.
Dreams with which the enlightened write.
When you wake up you will listen to her
husky, magical voice.
Voice to which the loved ones cry.
Voice to which the lonely rejoice.
It is wonderful when someone
is thinking about you
while the night is falling.
Good evening, my dear.
This is Barbara Streisand.
This is: Woman in Love

poem by Jankovic Zoran
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Mother Child

She's 46
but like a baby she clings
so obsessed with feeling wanted
she was never ment to be a mother

She's 15
takes herself so seriously
Has to be the mature one
has to pretend things are okay
She rarely laughs
rarely smiles
Oh, The mother child
At night she curls in a ball
clawing, clinging to her dreams
She dreams of laughter, fun, and smiles
She dreams of screaming and running for miles
But thats all they are
Because when she wakes
her mother lyes waiting, pleading
for the little mother child.

poem by Kelsi Brockway
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

One Pair of Lips

Last night day dreams and REM dreams met at midnight,
they tell the story of my hopes, and myths of fear.
They whisper through your lips the words i long to hear.
They tease the skin you once touched.
They kiss the lips you once kissed.

Once more I trembled at the sound of your voice
Once more we spoke our vows of love.

Last night I felt your skin under my fingers
I saw your eyes wonder an inch from mine
I felt your smile on my cheecks
Your warmth breath lingered on my skin
A warm love we never sinned.

This morning I awoke in a harmless solitude
This morning I lost my only fantasy.

Today I learned dreams are dreams.
Not everything is what it seems.
Today I day dream, tonight I'll sleep
I'll lay in solitude, one pair of lips.

poem by Laura Favela
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

One Clear Voice

The whole world is talking
Drowning out my voice
How can I hear myself
With all this noise
But all this confusion
Just disappears
When I find a quiet place
Where I can hear
(chorus)
One clear voice
Calling out for me to listen
One clear voice
Whispers words of wisdom
I close my eyes
till I find what Ive been missing
If Im very still, I will hear
One clear voice
Im always searching
For which path to take
Sometimes Im so afraid
To make mistakes
From somewhere inside me
Stronger than my fears
Just like the sound of music
To my ears, I hear
Chorus

song performed by by Peter Cetera
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

The Careless Word

A WORD is ringing thro' my brain,
It was not meant to give me pain;
It had no tone to bid it stay,
When other things had past away;
It had no meaning more than all
Which in an idle hour fall:
It was when first the sound I heard
A lightly uttered, careless word.

That word--oh! it doth haunt me now,
In scenes of joy, in scenes of woe;
By night, by day, in sun or shade,
With the half smile that gently played
Reproachfully, and gave the sound
Eternal power thro' life to wound.
There is no voice I ever heard,
So deeply fix'd as that one word.

When in the laughing crowd some tone,
Like those whose joyous sound is gone,
Strikes on my ear, I shrink--for then
The careless word comes back again.
When all alone I sit and gaze
Upon the cheerful home-fire blaze,
Lo! freshly as when first 'twas heard,
Returns that lightly uttered word.

When dreams bring back the days of old;
With all that wishes could not hold;
And from my feverish couch I start
To press a shadow to my heart--
Amid its beating echoes, clear
That little word I seem to hear:
In vain I say, while it is heard,
Why weep?--'twas but a foolish word.

It comes--and with it come the tears,
The hopes, the joys of former years;
Forgotten smiles, forgotten looks,
Thick as dead leaves on autumn brooks,
And all as joyless, though they were
The brightest things life's spring could share.
Oh! would to God I ne'er had heard
That lightly uttered, careless word!

It was the first, the only one
Of those which lips for ever gone
Breathed in their love--which had for me
Rebuke of harshness at my glee:
And if those lips were here to say,
'Beloved, let it pass away,'
Ah! then, perchance--but I have heard
The last dear tone--the careless word!

Oh! ye who, meeting, sigh to part,
Whose words are treasures to some heart,
Deal gently, ere the dark days come,
When earth hath but for one a home;
Lest, musing o'er the past, like me,
They feel their hearts wrung bitterly,
And, heeding not what else they heard,
Dwell weeping on a careless word.

poem by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

That Voice Again

I want to be with you
I want to be clear
But each time I try
Its the voice I hear
I hear that voice again
Im listening to the conversation
Judge and jury in my head
Its colouring everything
All we did and said
And still I head that sharp tongue talking
Talking tangled words
I can sense the danger
Just listen to the wind
I want you close I want you near
I cant help but listen
But I dont want to hear
Hear that voice again
I want to be with you
I want to be clear
But each time I try
Its the voice I hear
I hear that voice again
Im hearing right and wrong so clearly
There must be more than this
Its only in uncertainty
That were naked and alive
I hear it through the rattle of a streetcar
Hear it through the things you said
I can get so scared
Listen to the wind
I want you close I want you near
I cant help but listen
But I dont want to hear
Hear that voice again
What I carry in my heart
Brings us so close or so far apart
Only love can make love
I want you close I want you near
I cant help but listen
But I dont want to hear
I hear that voice again
I want to be with you
I want to be clear
But each time I try
Its the voice I hear
I hear that voice again

song performed by by Peter Gabriel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

What Are Dreams

What are dreams?
they are not what they seem,
I dream of the day
after we have had out say
to see you, sat by a window,
the sunlight upon you,
It highlights your glory
your face tells its own story,
What are dreams?
Only dreams *sighs*

What are dreams?
They are not what they seem,
to dream of touching you,
with more than just my words.
My voice trembles
as over words I stumble.
Its for you I yearn.
What are dreams?
Only dreams *sighs*

What are dreams?
they are not what they seem,
I repaired your wings,
even made you sing.
but within our trip,
your wings I clip.
your silent now
it hurts and how.
What are dreams?
Only dreams...........

RG/RR

poem by Robert Green
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Place Of Reward

There is a very special place
that's beyond time and space
where our soul longs to be
which is unlike this duality.

There is a place behind our dreams
definitely free of illusions it seems
that we are all hardly aware of now
to which we are heading somehow.

It's a haven of peace where
it is also very blissful there.
A sublime place beyond imagination,
the underlying reality of any situation.

There is a path that leads to it
on which all who travel benefit
who with a gentle guiding hand
can be sure of reaching that land.

It is even for those who don't believe
because they have as yet to conceive
with their mind steady in concentration
that object visualized in contemplation.

It's a little known realm of possibility
and for those who attain an actuality
in which all our dreams come true
but is only realized by a very few.

It therefore does exists within us all
what we have to do is heed the call
of that voice heard within our heart
and act on the wisdom it does impart.

There are some simple things each one must do
that have been overlooked so long by many who
have most of their lives repeatedly only ignored
those words which guarantee them The Reward.

poem by George Krokos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Sonnet Of Motherhood XXVII

O, not alone I weave this miracle
Of glowing spirit from my body’s zone.
With every moment of the life unknown
You feed the glory of a growing cell.
All day I think of you, and night must tell
Dreams of my dreams unto your heart alone;
So, seeing you, I take you, O my own,
Into my child where first you wrought Life’s spell.

Dearest, as much as I, you breathe in pain,
Breeding yourself—your very soul from me
By look and sign, soft word and action strong,
And all you longed for in its form regain.
I am a humble haven where we three,
Father and child and mother, make a song.

poem by Zora Bernice May Cross
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Love Is Something You Know Nothing About

I closed my eyes and said a prayer
In hopes that you would be there
You said Your heart was broken in two
And you didn't know what to do.

There was something that I always knew
That: love is something you know nothing about
And love is something we can't do without.

You don't know the difference between love and infatuation
For they are two different situations
Infatuation will last for a short spell
While love will take you to heaven and hell.

You will want that person by your side
And when they're not there you'll feel empty inside.
You'll feel as if a part of your heart
Had died -and you just want to cry.

You'll smell their aroma, and recall their kiss
Their arms around you that you'll miss.
The gentleness of their voice when they
Calm your fears- and wipe away that fallen tear.

It's a desire to walk hand in hand and to share
Your thoughts, your expectations and dreams
And be understanding to each others needs.

To never put your dreams before theirs
And to show that you care.

Yes! Love is something you know nothing about

poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Your Voice

Give me the pleasure I need
I’ve had enough of pain,
I need to hear your voice
seducing me gently

Love is not what I’ve got
in every step of my life
I need to hear your voice
loving me gently

Countless times I’ve asked myself
Who am I, What am I for
I need to hear your voice again
reassuring me gently

Come and make love to me
Let’s lose ourselves in frenzy
I need to hear your searching voice
calling for my name gently

Yes – that magnificently serene voice of yours,
warm, gentle, soft and seductive...
calming me within magical moments
Your embrace gives me eternal surety.

poem by Aparna Chatterjee
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Home

Written by: tim james, steven mcclintock and marc mancina
Home
The child in my eyes
Stares sometimes
When I was so much younger
Home
A place in the sun
Where memories run
I close my eyes and there I am
Home
The love remains
Through all the years
Through all the change
The sweetest dreams
Ive ever known
Are those of you
And those of home
Time
The turn on a page
The love someone needs
When we were there together
Steal where ever I go
Deep in my soul
A part of me is always there
Home
The love remains
Through all the years
Through all the change
The sweetest dreams
Ive ever known
Are those of you
And those of home
When you smile
And hold me in your arms
Sometimes for the moment
Im that child again
Home
The love remains
Through all the years
Through all the change
The sweetest dreams
Ive ever known
Are those of you
And those of home
Are those of you
And those of home

song performed by by Tiffany
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Madeline. A Domestic Tale

My child, my child, thou leav'st me!–I shall hear
The gentle voice no more that blest mine ear
With its first utterance; I shall miss the sound
Of thy light step amidst the flowers around,
And thy soft-breathing hymn at twilight's close,
And thy 'Good-night' at parting for repose.
Under the vine-leaves I shall sit alone,
And the low breeze will have a mournful tone
Amidst their tendrils, while I think of thee,
My child! and thou, along the moonlight sea,
With a soft sadness haply in thy glance,
Shalt watch thine own, thy pleasant land of France,
Fading to air.–Yet blessings with thee go!
Love guard thee, gentlest! and the exile's wo
From thy young heart be far! And sorrow not
For me, sweet daughter! in my lonely lot,
God shall be with me.–Now, farewell! farewell!
Thou that hast been what words may never tell
Unto thy mother's bosom, since the days
When thou wert pillow'd there, and wont to raise
In sudden laughter thence thy loving eye
That still sought mine:–these moments are gone by,
Thou too must go, my flower!–Yet with thee dwell
The peace of God!–One, one more gaze–farewell!'

This was a mother's parting with her child,
A young meek bride, on whom fair fortune smil'd,
And wooed her with a voice of love away
From childhood's home; yet there, with fond delay,
She linger'd on the threshold, heard the note
Of her cag'd bird thro' trellis'd rose-leaves float,
And fell upon her mother's neck, and wept,
Whilst old remembrances, that long had slept,
Gush'd o'er her soul, and many a vanish'd day,
As in one picture traced, before her lay.

But the farewell was said; and on the deep,
When its breast heav'd in sunset's golden sleep,
With a calm'd heart, young Madeline ere long,
Pour'd forth her own sweet solemn vesper-song,
Breathing of home: thro' stillness heard afar,
And duly rising with the first pale star,
That voice was on the waters; till at last
The sounding ocean-solitudes were pass'd,

And the bright land was reach'd, the youthful world
That glows along the West: the sails were furl'd
In its clear sunshine, and the gentle bride
Look'd on the home that promis'd hearts untried
A bower of bliss to come.–Alas! we trace
The map of our own paths, and long ere years
With their dull steps the brilliant lines efface,
On sweeps the storm, and blots them out with tears.
That home was darken'd soon: the summer breeze
Welcom'd with death the wanderers from the seas,
Death unto one, and anguish–how forlorn!
To her, that widow'd in her marriage-morn,
Sat in her voiceless dwelling, whence with him
Her bosom's first belov'd, her friend and guide,
Joy had gone forth, and left the green earth dim,
As from the sun shut out on every side,
By the close veil of misery!–Oh! but ill,
When with rich hopes o'erfraught, the young high heart
Bears its first blow!–it knows not yet the part
Which life will teach–to suffer and be still,

And with submissive love to count the flowers
Which yet are spared, and thro' the future hour;
To send no busy dream!–She had not learn'd
Of sorrow till that hour, and therefore turn'd
In weariness from life: then came th' unrest,
The heart-sick yearning of the exile's breast,
The haunting sounds of voices far away,
And household steps: until at last she lay
On her lone couch of sickness, lost in dreams
Of the gay vineyards and blue-rushing streams
In her own sunny land, and murmuring oft
Familiar names, in accents wild, yet soft,
To strangers round that bed, who knew not aught
Of the deep spells wherewith each word was fraught.
To strangers?–Oh! could strangers raise the head
Gently as hers was raised?–did strangers shed
The kindly tears which bath'd that feverish brow
And wasted cheek with half-unconscious flow?
Something was there, that thro' the lingering night
Outwatches patiently the taper's light,

Something that faints not thro' the day's distress,
That fears not toil, that knows not weariness;
Love, true, and perfect love!–Whence came that power,
Uprearing thro' the storm the drooping flower?
Whence?–who can ask?–the wild delirium pass'd,
And from her eyes the spirit look'd at last
Into her mother's face, and wakening knew
The brow's calm grace, the hair's dear silvery hue,
The kind sweet smile of old!–and had she come,
Thus in life's evening, from her distant home,
To save her child?–Ev'n so–nor yet in vain:
In that young heart a light sprung up again,
And lovely still, with so much love to give,
Seem'd this fair world, tho' faded; still to live
Was not to pine forsaken. On the breast
That rock'd her childhood, sinking in soft rest,
'Sweet mother! gentlest mother! can it be?'
The lorn one cried, 'and do I look on thee?
Take back thy wanderer from this fatal shore,
Peace shall be ours beneath our vines once more.'

poem by Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Eyes Of A Child

Listen hear the sound
The child awakes
Wonder all around
The child awakes
Now in his life he never must be lost
No thoughts must deceive him
In life he must trust
With the eyes of a child
You must come out and see
That your world's spinning 'round
And through life you will be
A small part
Of a hope
Of a love
That exists
In the eyes of a child you will see
Earth falls far away
New life awaits
Time it has no day
New life awwaits
Here is your dream and now how does it feel
No words will go with you
And now what is real?
With the eyes of a child
You must come out and see
That your world's spinning 'round
And through life you will be
A small part
Of a hope
Of a love
That exists
In the eyes of a child you will see

song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Mother

A tribute to our mothers!

The mother is the most important being in the world,
and she is always by your side.
She is the angel who accompanies you every moment;
she is the one who rocked you,
when you are little, and wiped away your tears!

She is the one who touched your forehead,
when you had a fever.
She is the one who tucked you in every night,
before bed...
She is the one who drove away your sad dreams, and
she took you in her arms when you were afraid...

Mom is the place where you always come back, and
she is always with you regardless the path you may choose;
she will watch over you and protect you!

The mother is the holiest icon
which you carry in your soul every day
- when you are happy, she is happy !
When you cry and you are sad, she cries with you.
When you make a mistake, she forgives you!

The mother is the star that never sets;
she is the closest thing to perfection!
Mother is that candle that burns continuously,
whether it's raining or snowing;
she is the light of your hope and dreams...

Is there a more wonderful creature than Mother?
No!
There is no more beautiful being than your mother!
Mother is UNIQUE!

poem by Viorel Vintila
Submitted by Viorel Vintila
Vote! | Copy!

Tonight I Sleep With Mother Earth

Seventy more years must pass,
To plus these ones gone past,
My eyelids, before they may close
Before Mother Earth opens up her core
To take my body in once more,
Before I sleep with Mother Earth.

Before I sleep with Mother Earth,
My castles strewn across the sky
Shall come down to the earth,
And grow up to scrape the sky.
Before I sleep with Mother Earth,
Life shall answer all questions posed,
I shall plaster all precious stones
Around my name, in umeasured fold.
Before I sleep with Mother Earth.
I shall grow tall and strong like a giant,
I shall be elephated from ant to elephant.
Before I sleep with Mother Earth,
All ears that hear must hear,
And those that can't must read,
And those that can't must feed,
Ingest by all means, the words that I speak.
Before I sleep with Mother Earth,
I must sleep with Success,
From that whore, I shall receive suck-sex
A crowned head, I'll not settle for any less.
I shall drink from the brooks of plenty,
I shall autograph the books of many.
Before I sleep with Mother Earth,
All my toils shall be brought to boil,
My labour shall bring forth fruit,
Truth and Life shall birth through me, Poetry
All my impregnations shall get expression,
I shall pour out my soul upon all flesh,
And still erect, I shall come, into Mother Earth.
Then I shall say:

'Seventy more years have gone past,
Many more tears have flushed past,
My eyelids, and now they may close,
As Mother Earth opens up her core,
For the time has come, as I said afore,
Tonight I sleep wiith Mother Earth.'

poem by Joba Akinola
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

How I love your Voice

How I love to hear you speak and call my name
The way your lips, tongue, and mouth forms letters and words
Those sensual overtones that utter sweet sounds that resonate in my ears
How I love to hear you speak

Your articulation brings forth joy and laughter to my soul
Your words are like music set to a melody sang by angels
It is like the birds summoning me to paradise
Your subtle amplitude drives me while at ever utterance

I beg you to continue speaking to me for I have never heard a sweeter tone
Your audible vibrations are like a musical instrument playing lullabies to my soul
Your voice reminds me of being a child being rocked to sleep
Speak to me in those warm tones of elegance that only you possess

How I love to here your voice in all its magnitude
It comforts me on my lonely days of inner reflection
It brings me hope for a greater day
When I hear you regulate the tones I am in a trance

I am captivated by every sentence you speak
I listen to your words intently at its rhythm
It warms me on a cold day and cools me off in the heat
How I love just to hear you speak to me

I would give it all away just to hear your words
Such satisfying sounds swings me back and forth in a dizzy dance
I lose my footing every time you speak
It is not just your words but the beauty within that captivates me so

I save all your messages to hear plaid over and over again
They are melodious songs that bring forth the light of a new day
They are enchanting as you are in life
No words spoken could explain the grace and charm of your voice

Each time you speak I have died a thousand times
With each word I am sent heaven bound
Your voice takes me places only imagined in dreams
Paradise once lost is found in your voice

Let it be known that there is no other like you
I am compelled to a higher ground
Your expressions are like the wind in my sails that sets me free
I cannot place no other above you

Your voice is all I ever need to hear in life
Your ability to speak brings shivers up and down my spine
It has the greatest influence over my body
If I should ever fall and stricken deaf, your voice would remain reverberating in my heart
It would be the last sounds I would want to hear
Your name would be the last sound spoken from my lips

Your voice, how I love it so

poem by Wilfred Mellers
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Death-Song

Mother, mother! my heart is wild,
Hold me upon your bosom dear,
Do not frown on your own poor child,
Death is darkly drawing near.
Mother, mother! the bitter shame
Eats into my very soul;
And longing love, like a wrapping flame,
Burns me away without control.
Mother, mother! upon my brow
The clammy death-sweats coldly rise;
How dim and strange your features grow
Through the hot mist that veils my eyes.
Mother, mother! sing me the song
They sing on sunny August eves,
The rustling barley fields along,
Binding up the ripe, red sheaves.
Mother, mother! I do not hear
Your voice—but his—oh, guard me well!
His breathing makes me faint with fear,
His clasping arms are round me still.
Mother, mother! unbind my vest,
Upon my heart lies his first token:
Now lay me in my narrow nest,
Your withered blossom, crushed and broken.

poem by Frances Anne Kemble
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!