Manus Animam Pinxit
Lady who hold'st on me dominion!
Within your spirit's arms I stay me fast
Against the fell
Immitigate ravening of the gates of hell;
And claim my right in you, most hardly won,
Of chaste fidelity upon the chaste:
Hold me and hold by me, lest both should fall
(O in high escalade high companion!)
Even in the breach of Heaven's assaulted wall.
Like to a wind-sown sapling grow I from
The clift, Sweet, of your skyward-jetting soul, -
Shook by all gusts that sweep it, overcome
By all its clouds incumbent: O be true
To your soul, dearest, as my life to you!
For if that soil grow sterile, then the whole
Of me must shrivel, from the topmost shoot
Of climbing poesy, and my life, killed through,
Dry down and perish to the foodless root.
Sweet Summer! unto you this swallow drew,
By secret instincts inappeasable,
That did direct him well,
Lured from his gelid North which wrought him wrong,
Wintered of sunning song; -
By happy instincts inappeasable,
Ah yes! that led him well,
Lured to the untried regions and the new
Climes of auspicious you;
To twitter there, and in his singing dwell.
But ah! if you, my Summer, should grow waste,
With grieving skies o'ercast,
For such migration my poor wing was strong
But once; it has no power to fare again
Forth o'er the heads of men,
Nor other Summers for its Sanctuary:
But from your mind's chilled sky
It needs must drop, and lie with stiffened wings
Among your soul's forlornest things;
A speck upon your memory, alack!
A dead fly in a dusty window-crack.
O therefore you who are
What words, being to such mysteries
As raiment to the body is,
Should rather hide than tell;
Chaste and intelligential love:
Whose form is as a grove
Hushed with the cooing of an unseen dove;
Whose spirit to my touch thrills purer far
Than is the tingling of a silver bell;
Whose body other ladies well might bear
As soul,--yea, which it profanation were
For all but you to take as fleshly woof,
Being spirit truest proof;
Whose spirit sure is lineal to that
Which sang Magnificat:
Chastest, since such you are,
Take this curbed spirit of mine,
Which your own eyes invest with light divine,
For lofty love and high auxiliar
In daily exalt emprise
Which outsoars mortal eyes;
This soul which on your soul is laid,
As maid's breast against breast of maid;
Beholding how your own I have engraved
On it, and with what purging thoughts have laved
This love of mine from all mortality
Indeed the copy is a painful one,
And with long labour done!
O if you doubt the thing you are, lady,
Come then, and look in me;
Your beauty, Dian, dress and contemplate
Within a pool to Dian consecrate!
Unveil this spirit, lady, when you will,
For unto all but you 'tis veiled still:
Unveil, and fearless gaze there, you alone,
And if you love the image--'tis your own!
poem by Francis Thompson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
My soul tells off my playful spirit
My soul tells off my playful spirit
Where is thine reverence it asks
I bow my head and ask forgiveness
But I know not for which giggling task
This soul has seen and felt deep love
And has touched great wonder sublime
It shares this love with its true dearest
Sending spirit free for playful rhyme
So when soul tells off my playful spirit
It's hard to take it seriously
As spirit knows that soul has caused
My love to spill for you deliriously
poem by Harriet James
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
An Answered Prayer
I prayed a lover's prayer and prayers sent me
A beautiful lady of art and life in perfect harmony.
Her eyes of Burmese jade, her lips of amorous African ruby
Her skin of Chinese silk, her heart a refined piece of jewelry
As rare as rare, and as sweet as sweet
This lady is beauty whole and beauty complete.
Her slim delicate tenderness lies between beauty and love
And in mine heart her beauty is be love
By mine senses, my soul, my spirit, my will
Made light by her soul, as light and colorful of a peacock's quill
I do but for a moment touch her loin
And our eyes, my prayers, do finally adjoin
Love has sent me a scion of pleasure
In one moment of love's eternity
Did I possess a Goddess and I did see love's tremendous treasure
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The First Canzone Of The Convito
From The Italian Of Dante
I.
Ye who intelligent the Third Heaven move,
Hear the discourse which is within my heart,
Which cannot be declared, it seems so new.
The Heaven whose course follows your power and art,
Oh, gentle creatures that ye are! me drew,
And therefore may I dare to speak to you,
Even of the life which now I live--and yet
I pray that ye will hear me when I cry,
And tell of mine own heart this novelty;
How the lamenting Spirit moans in it, 10
And how a voice there murmurs against her
Who came on the refulgence of your sphere.
II.
A sweet Thought, which was once the life within
This heavy heart, man a time and oft
Went up before our Father’s feet, and there
It saw a glorious Lady throned aloft;
And its sweet talk of her my soul did win,
So that I said, ‘Thither I too will fare.’
That Thought is fled, and one doth now appear
Which tyrannizes me with such fierce stress,
That my heart trembles--ye may see it leap--
And on another Lady bids me keep
Mine eyes, and says--Who would have blessedness
Let him but look upon that Lady’s eyes,
Let him not fear the agony of sighs.
III.
This lowly Thought, which once would talk with me
Of a bright seraph sitting crowned on high,
Found such a cruel foe it died, and so
My Spirit wept, the grief is hot even now--
And said, Alas for me! how swift could flee
That piteous Thought which did my life console!
And the afflicted one ... questioning
Mine eyes, if such a Lady saw they never,
And why they would...
I said: ‘Beneath those eyes might stand for ever
He whom ... regards must kill with...
To have known their power stood me in little stead,
Those eyes have looked on me, and I am dead.’
IV.
‘Thou art not dead, but thou hast wandered,
Thou Soul of ours, who thyself dost fret,’
A Spirit of gentle Love beside me said;
For that fair Lady, whom thou dost regret,
Hath so transformed the life which thou hast led,
Thou scornest it, so worthless art thou made.
And see how meek, how pitiful, how staid,
Yet courteous, in her majesty she is.
And still call thou her Woman in thy thought;
Her whom, if thou thyself deceivest not,
Thou wilt behold decked with such loveliness,
That thou wilt cry [Love] only Lord, lo! here
Thy handmaiden, do what thou wilt with her.
V.
My song, I fear that thou wilt find but few
Who fitly shall conceive thy reasoning
Of such hard matter dost thou entertain.
Whence, if by misadventure chance should bring
Thee to base company, as chance may do,
Quite unaware of what thou dost contain,
I prithee comfort thy sweet self again,
My last delight; tell them that they are dull,
And bid them own that thou art beautiful.
poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Babylon Feeling (feat. Carlos Santana)
My heart is broke, my will is gone
Fell in love with a woman named Babylon
She hook me to the gills
All of her forbidden thrills
I call her baby for short then I ramble on
She'll forget about me
My soul is high, my mind is free
Met a shorty with some back call her destiny
She showed me all my fates
My stream of conscious navigates
I orbit around the sun at high velocity
Don't forget about me
Don't forget about sweet things
Won't you save my soul
Pretty lady, won't you take me home
Sweet things
Won't you save my soul
Pretty lady, won't you take me home... tonight
My arms are heavy, my body's tense
Got the hots for this honey named confidence
She points out all of my flaws
Breaking all of her favorite laws
Never speaks a word in my defense
Just forget about me
My spirit's weak, my lust will thrive
Got a thing for this bitch
Said her name is a lie
She controls me with her fear
My prayers fall on her cold deaf ear
She says have a good time and take your dive
Just forget about me
Just forget about
Sweet things, won't you save my soul (Yeah)
Pretty lady, won't you take me home
Sweet thing won't you save my soul (Yeah)
Pretty lady won't you take me home... tonight
I've got a Babylon feelin'
I've got a Babylon feelin'
I've got a Babylon feelin'
I'm feelin' Babylon
My heart is broke, my will is gone
Fell in love with a woman named Babylon
She hook me to the gills
All of her forbidden thrills
I call her baby for short, then I ramble on
And I ramble on
I've got a Babylon feelin'
I've got a Babylon feelin'
I've got a Babylon
Feelin', Feelin', Feelin', yeah
I've got a Babylon
Feelin', Feelin', Feelin', yeah
I've got a Babylon
Feelin', Feelin', Feelin', yeah
I've got a Babylon
Feelin', Feelin', Feelin', yeah
song performed by by Everlast
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Ballad Of The White Lady
SIR GEOFFREY met the white lady
Upon his marriage morn,
Her eyes were blue as cornflowers are,
Her hair was gold like corn.
Sir Geoffrey gave the white lady
A posy of roses seven,
'You are the fairest May,' said he,
'That ever strayed from Heaven.'
Sir Geoffrey by the white lady
Was lured away to shame,
For seven long years of prayers and tears
No tidings of him came.
Then she who should have been his bride
A mighty oath she swore,
'For seven long years I have wept and prayed,
Now I will pray no more.
'Since God and all the saints of Heaven
Bring not my lord to me,
I will go down myself to hell
And bring him back,' said she.
She crept to the white lady's bower,
The taper's flame was dim,
And there Sir Geoffrey lay asleep,
And the white witch sat by him.
Her arm was laid across his neck,
Her gold hair on his face,
And there was silence in the room
As in a burial-place.
And there were gems and carven cups,
And 'broidered bridal gear--
'Whose bridal is this?' the lady said,
'And what knight have ye here?'
'The good knight here ye know full well,
He was your lord, I trow,
But I have taken him from your side,
And I am his lady now.
'This seven year with right good cheer
We twain our bridal keep,
So take for your mate another knight
And let my dear lord sleep.'
Then up and spake Sir Geoffrey's bride,
'What bridal cheer is this?
I would think scorn to have the lips
Who could not have the kiss!
'I would think scorn to take the half
Who could not have the whole;
I would think scorn to steal the body
Who could not take the soul!
'For, though ye hold his body fast
This seven weary year,
His soul walks ever at my side
And whispers in my ear.
'I would think scorn to hold in sleep
What, if it waked, would flee,
So let his body join his soul
And both fare forth with me;
'For I have learned a spell more strong
Than yours that laid him low,
And I will speak it for his sake
Because I love him so!'
The white lady threw back her hair,
Her eyes began to shine--
'His soul is thine these seven years?--
To-night it shall be mine!
'I have been brave to hold him here
While seven long years befell,
Rather than let a bridal be
Whose seed should flower in hell.
'I have not looked into his eyes
Nor joined my lips to his,
For fear his soul should spring to flame
And shrivel at my kiss.
'I have been brave to watch his sleep
While the long hours come and go,
To hold the body without the soul,
Because I love him so.
'But since his soul this seven year
Has sat by thee,' she said,
'His body and soul to-night shall lie
Upon my golden bed.
'Thou hast no need to speak the spell
That thou hast learned,' said she,
'For I will wake him from his sleep
And take his soul from thee.'
She stooped above him where he lay,
She laid her lips on his;
He stirred, he spake: 'These seven long years
I have waited for thy kiss.
'My soul has hung upon thy lips
And trembled at thy breath,
Thou hast given me life in a cup to drink,
As God will give me death.
'Why didst thou fear to kill my soul
Which only lives for thee?
Thou hast put seven wasted years,
O love, 'twixt thee and me.'
poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
His Litany to the Holy Spirit
In the hour of my distress,
When temptations me oppress,
And when I my sins confess,
Sweet Spirit comfort me!
When I lie within my bed,
Sick in heart, and sick in head,
And with doubts discomforted,
Sweet Spirit comfort me!
When the house doth sigh and weep,
And the world is drown'd in sleep,
Yet mine eyes the watch do keep,
Sweet Spirit comfort me!
Whe the artless doctor sees
No one hope but of his fees,
And his skill runs on the lees,
Sweet Spirit comfort me!
When his potion and his pill,
Has or none or little skill,
Meet for nothing, but to kill,
Sweet Spirit comfort me!
When the passing-bell doth toll,
And the Furies in a shoal
Come to fright a parting soul,
Sweet Spirit comfort me!
When the tapers now burn blue,
And the comforters are few,
And that number more than true,
Sweet Spirit comfort me!
When the priest his last hath prayed,
And I nod to what is said,
'Cause my speech is now decayed,
Sweet Spirit comfort me!
When (God knows) I'm toss'd about,
Either with despair or doubt,
Yet before the glass be out,
Sweet Spirit comfort me!
When the Tempter me pursu'th
With the sins of all my youth,
And half damns me with untruth,
Sweet Spirit comfort me!
When the flames and hellish cries
Fright mine ears and fright mine eyes,
And all terrors me surprise,
Sweet Spirit comfort me!
When the Judgment is revealed,
And that open'd which was seal'd,
When to Thee I have appeal'd,
Sweet Spirit comfort me!
poem by Robert Herrick
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
His Litany, To The Holy Spirit
In the hour of my distress,
When temptations me oppress,
And when I my sins confess,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!
When I lie within my bed,
Sick in heart, and sick in head,
And with doubts discomforted,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!
When the house doth sigh and weep,
And the world is drown'd in sleep,
Yet mine eyes the watch do keep,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!
When the artless doctor sees
No one hope, but of his fees,
And his skill runs on the lees,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!
When his potion and his pill,
Has, or none, or little skill,
Meet for nothing but to kill,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!
When the passing-bell doth toll,
And the furies in a shoal
Come to fright a parting soul,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!
When the tapers now burn blue,
And the comforters are few,
And that number more than true,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!
When the priest his last hath pray'd,
And I nod to what is said,
'Cause my speech is now decay'd,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!
When, God knows, I'm tost about
Either with despair, or doubt;
Yet, before the glass be out,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!
When the tempter me pursu'th
With the sins of all my youth,
And half damns me with untruth,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!
When the flames and hellish cries
Fright mine ears, and fright mine eyes,
And all terrors me surprise,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!
When the Judgment is reveal'd,
And that open'd which was seal'd;
When to Thee I have appeal'd,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!
poem by Robert Herrick
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The House of the Life: The Kiss
What smouldering senses in death's sick delay
Or seizure of malign vicissitude
Can rob this body of honour, or denude
This soul of wedding-raiment worn to-day?
For lo! even now my lady's lips did play
With these my lips such consonant interlude
As laurelled Orpheus longed for when he wooed
The half-drawn hungering face with that last lay.
I was a child beneath her touch, -- a man
When breast to breast we clung, even I and she, --
A spirit when her spirit looked through me, --
A god when all our life-breath met to fan
Our life-blood, till love's emulous ardours ran,
Fire within fire, desire in deity.
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Kiss
What smouldering senses in death's sick delay
Or seizure of malign vicissitude
Can rob this body of honour, or denude
This soul of wedding-raiment worn to-day?
For lo! even now my lady's lips did play
With these my lips such consonant interlude
As laurelled Orpheus longed for when he wooed
The half-drawn hungering face with that last lay.
I was a child beneath her touch, -- a man
When breast to breast we clung, even I and she, --
A spirit when her spirit looked through me, --
A god when all our life-breath met to fan
Our life-blood, till love's emulous ardours ran,
Fire within fire, desire in deity.
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sonnet VI: The Kiss
What smouldering senses in death's sick delay
Or seizure of malign vicissitude
Can rob this body of honour, or denude
This soul of wedding-raiment worn to-day?
For lo! even now my lady's lips did play
With these my lips such consonant interlude
As laurelled Orpheus longed for when he wooed
The half-drawn hungering face with that last lay.
I was a child beneath her touch,—a man
When breast to breast we clung, even I and she,—
A spirit when her spirit looked through me,—
A god when all our life-breath met to fan
Our life-blood, till love's emulous ardours ran,
Fire within fire, desire in deity.
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Litany to the Holy Spirit
IN the hour of my distress,
When temptations me oppress,
And when I my sins confess,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!
When I lie within my bed,
Sick in heart and sick in head,
And with doubts discomforted,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!
When the house doth sigh and weep,
And the world is drown'd in sleep,
Yet mine eyes the watch do keep,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!
When the passing bell doth toll,
And the Furies in a shoal
Come to fright a parting soul,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!
When the tapers now burn blue,
And the comforters are few,
And that number more than true,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!
When the priest his last hath pray'd,
And I nod to what is said,
'Cause my speech is now decay'd,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!
When, God knows, I'm toss'd about
Either with despair or doubt;
Yet before the glass be out,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!
When the tempter me pursu'th
With the sins of all my youth,
And half damns me with untruth,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!
When the flames and hellish cries
Fright mine ears and fright mine eyes,
And all terrors me surprise,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!
When the Judgment is reveal'd,
And that open'd which was seal'd,
When to Thee I have appeal'd,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!
poem by Robert Herrick
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
In the spirit of Rumi - 42 - How far is far from God?
Why, O dearest to Myself,
do you try to hard to run away from God?
Your body cannot run away from Him,
for He who made your body, runs with you..
Your spirit, your soul, cannot run away from Him,
for He is your very spirit, your very soul..
Only your mind can run away from Him;
and then his brothers, soul and body,
weep for him, wait for his return,
in stillness and in silence - which they know
by nightfall, he will be unable to resist..
Why do you try so hard to run away from God?
When did He ever run away from you?
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
O Intelligence Moving The Third Heaven
O Intelligences moving the third heaven,
the reasons heed that from my heart come forth,
so new, it seems, that no one else should know.
The heaven set in motion by your worth,
beings in gentleness created even,
keeps my existence in its present woe,
so that to speak of what I feel and know
means to converse most worthily with you:
I beg you, then, to listen to me well.
Of something in me new I now will tell—
how grief and sadness this my soul subdue,
and how a contradiction from afar
speaks through the rays descending from your star.
A thought of loveliness seems now to be
life to my ailing heart: it used to fly
oft to the very presence of your Sire;
and there a glorious Lady sitting high
it also saw, who spoke so pleasingly,
my soul would say “Up there dwells my desire.”
Now one appears, which I in dread admire
a mighty lord that makes it flee away,
so mighty, terror from my heart outflows.
To me he brings a lady very close,
and “Who salvation seeks,” I hear him say,
“let him but gaze into this lady’s eyes,
if he can suffer agony of sighs.”
Such is the contradiction, it can slay
the humble thought that is still telling me
of a fair angel up in heaven crowned.
My soul bemoans its present misery,
saying, “Unhappy me! How fast away
went he, in whom I had some solace found!”
And of my eyes it says, with mournful sound,
“When was it such a lady pierced their sight?
Why did they fail to see me in her guise?
I said, ‘Oh, surely, in this lady’s eyes
the one must dwell who kills my peers with fright.’
To no avail I warned them (Oh, my dread!),
but look at her they did, and I fell dead.”
“Oh, no, not dead, you are bewildered much,
O my poor soul, so pained and grieving so,”
replies a loving spirit, kind and sweet,
“For the fair woman, that you feel and know,
has changed your life so quickly and so much,
you now are trembling in your vile defeat.
Look how humility and mercy meet
in one so wise and gentle in her height:
so call her Lady, as by now you must.
And you will see, if steadfast is your trust,
such lofty miracles, such full delight,
you’ll say, ‘O Love, true lord, do as you please:
here is your humble handmaid on her knees.’”
My song, I do believe that those are few
who can unravel your most hidden sense,
so intricate and mighty is your wit.
Therefore, if by some fate or circumstance
you stray and venture among people who
seem not completely to have fathomed it,
oh, then, I pray, console yourself a bit,
and say, O lovely latest song, to them,
“Notice, at least, how beautiful I am!”
poem by Dante Alighieri
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Spirit Moves
I,
I can feel the Spirit
When it moves down in my soul
As it comes to make me whole
Said I, I can feel the power
As it washes over me,
As it comes to set me free
Said I, I glow
Nothing can ease the healing, nothing can replace the feeling
Said I, I know
It's a real move deep inside, and it's too divine to hide
Chorus
If you open up your heart, open your mind
If you give it all away, what you would find
Throw your hand in the air and close your eyes
And you can never get enough
Of the love and the power you'll receive
When you fall down and you hit your knees
So amazing what your eyes will see
If you're ready when the Spirit moves
I,
I can feel the Spirit
When we bow our heads in prayer
Let the Lord just take us there
And I know
Ain't nothin' quite the same
As the fire that's in the place
When you call upon His Name, I'm telling you
(You can't run and you can't hide)
No need to try at all
(It'll bring a change inside)
When the anointing falls
(Don't need no other high)
Can't get no higher, I know
(Don't let it pass you by)
Just let the Lord take control
Repeat Chorus
Bridge:
Oooh and when the Spirit falls
You hear Him call
You should answer
Go ahead and let go
(Let God) take control
Know there's nothing better
When the Spirit falls, let go,
Let God just take control
Of your soul
You know you should answer 'cause you
(You can't run and you can't hide)
No need to try at all
(It'll bring a change inside)
When the anointing falls
(Don't need no other high)
Can't get no higher, I know
(Don't let it pass you by)
Just let the Lord take control
Repeat Chorus till fade
song performed by by Out Of Eden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Farewell
Farewell, my sweet lady, I bid you adieu.
Like yesterday's sunset you've passed from my view.
You said I'd forget you, how could I, my dear?
My love has been buried, my heart was its bier.
My memory will hold you as flower and book;
Pressed petals in pages from love's garden nook.
And when I grow older, as all of us must,
I'll reach through the past, through mind's rubble and dust,
To draw to the foreground your vision, my light,
To hold in my mind's eye your womanly sight.
Tumultulus din, oh, hellhoundings of thought!
What void in my reason has loneliness wrought? !
I grieve by your headstone completely undone,
My living is over before it's begun.
Think not of the dark side, see only her face;
Think only her bright side, her passion, her grace.
And, when I grow older and nothing remains,
When I have no purpose, when nothing pertains,
I'll sit by the fireside, my thoughts in the flame,
Reliving your beauty, reciting your name.
Your spirit of love will rekindle my soul
And, I like a feather well neigh to my goal,
Unfettered by grief and this mouldering frame,
Will rise on the breath of my Lord to reclaim,
Our spiritual youth and the years that were lost.
I wait for the day that the threshold is crossed.
When there on the banks of the river of life,
I'll find you again, my sweet lover, my wife.
Farewell, my dear lady, 'till our rendezvous.
A long, and the last, and a saddened adeiu.
poem by Lynn W. Petty
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
God Of All Creation
God of all creation,
Enter into my soul.
Let me feel the love you show,
So that I your kindness know,
Help me please to learn and grow,
Making my spirit whole.
God of all creation,
Enter into my soul.
Let me feel your presence near,
So that I will have no fear,
And your name to so revere,
Make my spirit your goal.
God of all creation,
Enter into my soul.
Lift me up when I am down,
Take away my solemn frown,
Wrap me in a holy gown,
My spirit to thus console.
poem by Ernestine Northover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
True Love
True love
That blessing from God above
My dearest darling does exist!
In sweet slow motion
From morning mist
Emerged our dream
When two souls kissed.
From my heart flies smiles
Free as dancing kite
Across a thousand miles,
That letter of love you write.
Clinging to the wings of a dove tonight
My true love shimmering bright.
Can I cover you in kisses
Your blanket for the cold
My body misses
Our rapture taking hold.
Moonlit embrace captures my memory
Now dawn dare never,
Take you away from me.
My true love
One flower that heartache stole
Will wilt away
Yet you're forever in my soul.
I breathe
To touch your eyes divine.
Bequeth
All now is yours
That once was mine.
My life, our world
A new sky unfurled.
Sweet lady
In sunset of summer wine
You sting my heart
With words of bright sunshine.
I won't recover
In dew kissed flowered field
Until my pain
Your sweetest lips have healed.
poem by Kevin East
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Could It Be Magic
Spirit move me every time Im near you,
Whirling like a cyclone in my mind.
Sweet melissa, angel of my lifetime,
Answer to all answers I can find.
Baby I love you, come, come,
Come into my arms,
Let me know the wonder of all of you,
Baby I want you, now, now,
Now and hold on fast,
Could this be the magic at last.
Lady take me high upon a hillside,
High up where the stallion meets the sun.
I could love you, build my world around you,
Never leave you til my life is done.
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Beauty In Your Body, Or Happy In Your Soul?
Staying young and looking young,
Is not always a boon,
Life is going, it is true,
But we grow in spirit with it too.
Our soul will always live,
Being young forever,
Body is only a soul transporter,
To experience life on Planet.
Is it matter hair is grey, or colored
When you experience it all,
What is the meaning of your life,
Beauty in your body or happy in your soul?
poem by Cristina Teodor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Dora
It was, I well remember, the merry springtime when
Young Dora in the eventide came singing up the glen,
And the song came up the glen, till one oft-repeated part
In a subtle stream of melody ran glowing through my heart.
A fond desire, long cherished, till then I might control,
Till then—but oh! That witching strain swift drew it from my soul;
Swift drew it from my soul, and she did not say me nay,
And the world of love was all the world to us that happy day.
I’m happy now in thinking how happy I was then,
When towards the glowing west my love went homeward down the glen;
Went homeward down the glen, while my comfort surer grew,
Till methought the old-faced hills at looked as they were happy too.
All happy, for that Dora and I so happy were!
All happy, for that human love had breathed its spirit there!
Had breathed its spirit there, and had made them conscious grow
Of the part they bore in that sweet time, that happy long ago.
poem by Charles Harpur
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!