A Soft Susurrus
A soft susurrus in the night,
A song whose singer is unseen-
'Twere poetry itself to write
'A soft susurrus in the night!'
I know, as those mosquitos bite,
That I forgot to fix that screen,
'A soft susurrus in the night!'
A song whose singer is unseen.
poem by Franklin P. Adams
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Related quotes
Nightingale
(mccafferty, sweet, charlton, agnew)
1975 nazareth(dunfermline)ltd.
Sings a sad song for lonely women
Sings about women to lonely men
Sings a peace song to a soldier
Sings about loneliness to a friend
Shes a song, song singer
Let her music touch your heart
Shes a song singer from her heart
Sings a melody to haunt you
And some words to make you cry
If youre sad shell make you happy
When youre down shell take you high
Shes a song, song singer
Let her music touch your heart
Shes a song singer from her heart
Shes a song, song singer
Let her music touch your heart
Shes a song singer from her heart
Shes a song, song singer
Let her music touch your heart
Shes a song singer from her heart
song performed by by Nazareth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Am Your Singer
You are my love, you are my song, liger on,
You are my song, I am your singer.
You are my one, you are my own melody,
You are my song, I am your singer.
Someday when were singing
We will fly away, going winging.
Sing, singing my love song to you.
My song is sung,
When day is done harmonies willinger on,
I am your singer,
I am your singer,
Singing my love song to you.
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lamp Lit Darkness In shadow Night
solo singer sang her soul songs
she sang opera upon life stage
all spell cast audience sat silently
listened silently sitting settled in chairs
listened to words in notes voice rapture
after success show was song sung over
an audience rose left slowly silent still
living echo of vibrant voice words enthrill
heard rosaceae heart opened bloomed
like life bloom song of vital rich red rose
later only I watched petal bloom free soul
after singer had cast off her formal shoes
to run barefoot in soft mist falling rain
to run through fresh puddles soft forming
in lamp lit mist darkness in shadow night
your soul free you ran bliss like a young girl
you ran vision race my heart also shared
could not contain in bound clay soul feeling
light shadow light shadow race you run
through night through many nights memory
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pop Singer
Never wanted to be no pop singer,
Never wanted to write no pop songs.
Never had no weird hair to get my songs over.
Never wanted to hang out after the show.
Pop singer (writing) of pop songs.
Never wanted to have my picture taken.
Now, who would want to look into these eyes?
Just want to make it real - good, bad or indifferent.
Thats the way that I live and thats the way that Ill die (as a)
Pop singer (of) pop songs.
Pop singer, writing of pop song.
Never wanted to be no pop singer,
Never want to write no pop songs.
Never wanted to have a manager over for dinner.
Never wanted to hang out after the show.
Pop singer, writing pop songs.
Never wanted to be no pop singer, of pop songs.
A pop singer.
Never wanted to write no pop songs.
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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poem from frances R. (1)
i sang a sad song last night and they all liked it.
i rested for a while on that soft chair on that table by the corner
like a very lonely stranger.
i listened for the singer after me with his guitar singing another
love song.
not for me but for all of you.
i smoked my marlboro cigarette and breathed out some smoke like what
the rest were doing in that crowded karaoke garden,
a tissue was passed, i looked at it on a pinlight
i would be singing again another sad love song as requested by all of you
that time it was the song that i had written myself four years ago
i had given birth to two lovely daughters then when their father left them
i took my guitar went on stage and started to strum and sing
a song i had written years ago, some memories rushing back to me
all of you were silent then with your glasses of wine and smoke
holding hands to your girl or man on your side pressing some
soft flesh and felt the sad song of love creeping like a vine in the air
you waited for the moment when i will cry again
lights and eyes focusing in my eyes
i didn't cry anymore on the stage as you saw me once crying.
my tissue was wet with tears just a moment ago when i sat like any
stranger on that table beside an empty chair.
it was dark on that nook.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Song About You
If I could write a song
I’d write a song about you
I would write about how
You’re all I can every think about
How you flood my dreams each night
How thinking of you takes my breath away
When I look up to the satellites
If I could write a song
I’d write a song about you
I would write about how
The long lost butterflies returned
How I hope my number you’ll dial
And how your memory smothers me with smiles
If I could write a song
I’d write a song about you
I would write about how
You were the only one
Who had enough of me to break my heart
And when love took over my heart
You tore it all apart.
If I could write a song
I’d write a song about you
I would write about how
I gave you my heart
Caught up in the thought
That we were off to a great start
But how you threw a damn dart
Right into the center of my heart
If I could write a song
I’d write a song about you
About how you crushed my heart
Not bothering to look back.
If I could write a song
I’d write a song about you
poem by Jess Schwarcz
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Fairy Song
The moonlight fades from flower and rose
And the stars dim one by one;
The tale is told, the song is sung,
And the Fairy feast is done.
The night-wind rocks the sleeping flowers,
And sings to them, soft and low.
The early birds erelong will wake:
'T is time for the Elves to go.
O'er the sleeping earth we silently pass,
Unseen by mortal eye,
And send sweet dreams, as we lightly float
Through the quiet moonlit sky;--
For the stars' soft eyes alone may see,
And the flowers alone may know,
The feasts we hold, the tales we tell;
So't is time for the Elves to go.
From bird, and blossom, and bee,
We learn the lessons they teach;
And seek, by kindly deeds, to win
A loving friend in each.
And though unseen on earth we dwell,
Sweet voices whisper low,
And gentle hearts most joyously greet
The Elves where'er they go.
When next we meet in the Fairy dell,
May the silver moon's soft light
Shine then on faces gay as now,
And Elfin hearts as light.
Now spread each wing, for the eastern sky
With sunlight soon shall glow.
The morning star shall light us home:
Farewell! for the Elves must go.
poem by Louisa May Alcott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Twilight Song
Why, rapturous bird, though shades of night
Muffle the leaves and swathe the lawn,
Singest thou still with all thy might,
As though 'twere noon, as though 'twere dawn?
Silence darkens on vale and hill,
But thou, unseen, art singing still.
'Tis because, though in dusky bower,
With love delighted still thou art;
Nor hath the deepening twilight power
To lay a curfew on thy heart.
Thou lovest; and, loving, dost prolong
The sense of sunlight with thy song.
Thus may love's rapture haunt me still
When life's full radiance fadeth slow
Along the faltering west, and fill
With melody my afterglow,
And something of Song's morning might
Linger, to make you doubt 'tis night.
poem by Alfred Austin
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In My Defence
In my defence what is there to say
All the mistakes we made must be faced today
It's not easy now knowing where to start
While the world we love tears itself apart
I'm just a singer with a song
How can I try to right the wrong
For just a singer with a melody
I'm caught in between
With a fading dream
In my defence what is there to say
We destroy the love - it's our way
We never listen enough never face the truth
Then like a passing song
Love is here and then it's gone
I'm just a singer with a song
How can I try to right the wrong
For just a singer with a melody
I'm caught in between
With a fading dream
I'm just a singer with a song
How can I try to right the wrong
I'm just a singer with a melody
I'm caught in between with a fading dream
Caught in between with a fading dream
Caught in between with a fading dream
Oh what on earth
Oh what on earth
How do I try
Do we live or die
Oh help me God
Please help me
song performed by by Queen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Sweetest Song
The sweetest song
is a love song angels sing
when we are in each other’s arms.
Those soft sweet words
that only you and I can hear
in the stillness of the night.
The night is filled with magic
as our love blossoms in the air
and the angels rejoice in singing
the sweetest song
we will ever hear.
A love song for you and me.
2 May 2009
poem by David Harris
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Sweet Music Man
Sing your song sweet music man
Cuz I won't be there to hold your hand
Like I used to
I'm through with you
You're a hell of a singer and a powerful man
But you surround yourself with people who demand so little of you
You touched my -heart- (its suposed to be soul) with your beautiful song
You even had me singing along right with you
You said I need you
Then you changed the words and added harmony
And you sang the song you had written for to someone new
~Chorus~
Nobody sings a love song quite like you do
Nobody else can make me sing along
Nobody else can make me feel that things are right when I know they're wrong
Nobody sings a love song quite like you
~
Sing your song sweet music man
You travel the world with your six-piece band
That does for you
What you ask them to
You try to stay young but the songs you've sung to so many people
They've all begun to come back on you
Sing your song sad music man
Your making your living doin one night stands
They're through with you
They don't need you
You're still a hell of a singer but a broken man
But you'll keep searching for that one last fan
To sing to
~Chorus~
song performed by by Reba Mcentire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In The Garden IV: The Singer
"THAT was the thrush's last good-night," I thought,
And heard the soft descent of summer rain
In the droop'd garden leaves; but hush! again
The perfect iterance,--freer than unsought
Odours of violets dim in woodland ways,
Deeper than coiled waters laid a-dream
Below moss'd ledges of a shadowy stream,
And faultless as blown roses in June days.
Full-throat'd singer! art thou thus anew
Voiceful to hear how round thyself alone
The enriched silence drops for thy delight
More soft than snow, more sweet than honey-dew?
Now cease: the last faint western streak is gone,
Stir not the blissful quiet of the night.
poem by Edward Dowden
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Out Of The Night
The singer sang a soft refrain,
standing so still out in the rain.
With such emotion she did sing
to whom this song, did appertain.
As peaceful as a lullaby,
her voice rose up and touched the sky.
Gentle on both the heart and mind,
like a freed bird, her notes did fly.
Who was she trying to persuade,
would she be leaving here dismayed.
As over hair and down her coat,
water tumbled in a cascade.
Out of the night his voice did sound,
as he traversed the sodden ground.
With arms outstretched he called her name,
and knew that here his bliss he’d found.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Day and Night The Piano Played
Day and night the piano played
Never once did the soft notes stray
Over and over on and on they played
During my short stay t
Day and night, night and day
The same soft notes were played
Never did they stray the same notes
Played again and again night and day
The music wandered and wandered
Until with me it stayed
And I began to whistle night and day
The same soft notes over and over
Again and again and again I played
poem by Brian Kilpatrick
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Close Your Eyes And See The Truth
there is nothing
that must be changed
under pressure
under extreme pressure
we do not have to change
anything
did i not tell you
who we are?
the truth in us is the unseen
that electricity that you cannot hold
and stop
that spark
that glitter in the dark
that light that is never
consumed
the song that passes from
one singer to another
we do not have to change
we are already perfect and whole
what rots is just a part of us
so temporary
the ash is merely a symbol
it is never us
at night when you see lighting
and hear thunder
pay attention
to all these hints
and you shall never fear
because you are no longer alone
because you are different from fear
close your eyes and feel.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Labyrinth Wild It Leads You
The labyrinth wild it leads you
Towards the smile that feeds you
The woodman wild in a shaman’s frenzy
Spent the night below the sea.
Out of the blue, through blood shot eyes
The birds of morning’s song have risen
And still I have not known the realm of sleep,
Still I am keeping watchful eyes upon the moment in descent,
Scouring the boundaries of my vision with sour yet soulful detachment
From the world outside at war, raging upon itself.
I can hear music upon the air,
Small vibrations from another world
The Faint echoes of dying stars
Susurrus murmurings within ancient forests
The gods of scented nightmares are calling me a small boy.
Fate is calling me her toy.
Lost and frozen within the moment
Stood alone before the phoenix rising
What am I to do?
I can see upon the horizon a goddess blue
Beckoning with open arms a world entwining you.
poem by David Lacey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Want To Be The One Who Yah Yahs
I don't want to be that singer,
Of a long song gone.
Or be the one defeated,
By two unmoving feet.
I don't want to feel them stuck as if cemented,
With a sitting to waste time away.
I don't want to be that singer,
Of a long song gone.
Not any time of any day.
I don't want to be that singer,
Of a long song gone.
I...
Want my happy yah yahs.
I want that in my voice and strong.
I want my yah yahs there and a part...
Of my happiness all day long.
I don't want to be that singer,
Of those blues that sap.
I don't want to be the one that sits,
In a rocking chair to reminisce like that!
I...
Want to be the one who yah yahs.
I want to turn my yah yahs into art!
I want to hear my yah yahs rise,
To echo all over the place.
I don't want to be that singer,
Of a long song gone.
I...
Want my happy yah yahs.
I want that in my voice and strong.
I want my yah yahs there and a part...
Of my happiness all day long.
I want my yah yahs to never stop,
Drop to fizz or plop!
I don't want to be the one to sing,
About a dues I've paid.
With a blues with me that stays.
I...
Want to be the one who yah yahs.
I want to turn my yah yahs into art!
I'm going to yah yah until someone decides I disturb.
And they threaten to call the cops.
And when those cops arrive they will know,
The yah yahs I've got will not be stopped.
Since I'll shout my yah yahs from the top of roofs.
These yah yahs I've got come from the bottom of my heart!
There I discover my truth.
Dedicated:
In remembrance to Ernie K. Doe,
That great New Orleans singer and composer.
I will always remember when I first heard his song,
'Mother-In-Law'. To this very day...that song is 'hot'!
'I'm sittin' in la la,
Waitin' for my yah yah...
Uh huh,
Uh huh.
I said I'm sittin' in la la,
Waitin' for my yah yah...
Uh huh,
Uh huh.'
~Mr. Ernie K. Doe~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Voice Of Love
Scanning the land,
With her soft and alert eyes;
Searching for the 'clawed' ones
Whose thought alone chilled her spine,
With a thorough look at every side
Only after the last vestige of doubt had died;
She called him just like her mother used to,
In her soft and alert voice,
' Come my son, come....'
Protecting him from the unseen danger,
She could not risk being scared;
Because with every step she took she knew,
History would shout 'encore',
For the day when her mother made her run,
But never met her at home,
And all that she remembered of her,
Was her soft and alert voice,
' Run my daughter, run....'
She eyed her son to be sure,
But quickly focused away,
To the silent movements in the land,
To the visible unseen danger;
They were far, she could escape,
But her son was weak and slow,
And in a hurry she called to him,
In her soft and alert voice,
' Quick my son, quick....'
Faster than a bullet, swifter than the wind,
She could run and she knew that well,
But the thing she knew well the most,
Her son was weak and slow,
She had to protect him now,
He deserved no pain, was all she knew.
She turned around and fought her death,
She knew no pain, her son was safe,
And all she said while drifting to sleep,
Was in her soft and alert voice,
' Run my son, run....'
poem by Kanishk Gupta
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poetry is Everywhere
To all my friends who say –
Poetry is not my cup of tea,
I’d strongly recommend that
they watch “Dead Poet’s Society”.
Poetry is in your cup of tea,
poetry is in every wave of the sea,
poetry is in the song of a bird
poetry springs forth from each of your word.
Poetry is in the smile of a baby,
poetry is in the redness of a ruby,
poetry is the union of your heart and mind
poetry teaches you to be soft and kind.
Poetry is the song of your soul,
poetry reminds you of your life’s goal,
poetry is in a game of cricket,
poetry is in the sound of a cricket.
Imagine life without poetry -
What an empty life it would be!
Imagine a world without poetry -
What a dull place it would be!
09 June 2010
! 2: 50 pm
poem by Gita Ashok
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Don't be Alarmed, my Love....
Don't be alarmed this night, my Love,
I just needed some time on my own
I needed to know how the desert looked
After the shy summer rains had fallen
I needed to know if stars touch the earth
As they arc across the skies of Maun
Wherein the moon brings its smile at night
To light the wildlife tracks of the town
Don't look for me, oh, not quite yet
I have gone to climb the rocks over Praia
To catch from the breeze the Morna song
Propelled from the heart of a singer's desire
I needed to know if the tides were strong
And if whales were still seen occasionally
If volcanic ash lay soft like velour
And the plateau women remembered me
So let me sleep for a moment, Love
Until dreams reach their end, as they must
Wrapped in the winter of August nights
Which cover my prints with blankets of dust.
23.00, the 31st December,2007
poem by Frank Bana
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