Warning
A man there was, a gentle soul,
Of mild enquiring mind,
Who came into this neighbourhood
Its wonders for to find [ … ]
They told him who had put the lid
On Lydney; who the ale
Misspelt in Aylburton. And he
Delighted in the tale.
And still, like little Oliver,
He softly asked for more;
And with the utmost courtesy
Was answered as before.
Until one sleepy summer's eve
He came all unaware
Unto a place called Ruardean,
And asked ‘Who killed the bear?'
The man arose and punched him flat;
Another punched his head,
And when the rest had done with him
Our gentle friend was dead.
The moral of this simple tale
Is plain. Dear friend, beware!
If you should visit Ruardean
Don't mention any bear.
If you should climb to Yorkley Slad
Pause not to question why
They put a pig upon the wall
To see the band go by.
And if your feet so far should stray
As Dymock, lest some hurt
Befall you, make no mention of
The man without a shirt.
Nine lives have cats, and you but one:
Risk not that gift of God!
It's better to be ignorant
Than dead beneath the sod.
poem by Frederick William Harvey
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Related quotes
Hair and hustle
Dear can you help me for a while?
asked apologetically for a good smile,
’No’ replied a friend, keeping distance mile,
worries all around so can’t smile,
Hounded by worries, sick for while,
how can I offer even forced smile,
pain in her voice Keeping her mild,
mind seized with thought for her child,
She was extremely sorry,
could not afford luxury as money was worry,
situation was tense and she was in hurry,
Mind not working and hand hitting with furry,
I Will do anything for sick child,
can’t remain quite so mild,
I will have to find some means and way,
Still have no hope and no more say,
’hair’ and ‘hustle’ is answer,
What? Hair and hustle,
what is all this about?
Fumed at answer asked, what is this all about? I asked
Explain it dear nothing going in head,
simple may be lines but can not read,
what do they and what it stand for?
Is that all meaning which they stood for?
Raged at the meaning, hair and hustle stood for,
asked again why? What really they meant?
Hair is just trimming as it is learnt,
Hustle is nothing but only business
I have no option but go for child care,
what is meaning hustle and what about hair,
they loose charm and stand nothing,
I may go for it if offered something,
Life of child is so dear
Pain may be more but I may bear,
Many stories appear and I also hear,
child should get care life I fear,
Child if suffers, I will be broke,
can’t bear any such more stroke,
So do not offer any more joke,
Even get angry if some one poke,
Hustle” I found as prostitute,
So mean word and not good substitute,
It was clever ploy on her part not tell truth,
Situation as warranted life not smooth
I remained restless and night whole awoke,
Packets after packets finished for smoke,
Hustle means selling body as she told,
I could not decide whether move was bold,
I learnt later life was living hell,
She did not find as means well,
I was not ready and also not willing,
But helpless as today soul I am killing
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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A tale i was told
Right as i was told their handwriting were'nt bold
so; our forefathers were sold
that their conscience they had sold
but to me; a fairy tale better not told
i was young
and the music seem dingdong
to me at dawn,
the story seem sown
not till i was told
it was a fairy tale better not told.
Unaware in the market; they haggle
to them, the reward a cry
and they saw no battle
but on this path, i dare not ply
To me; a fairy tale better not told.
What seem a tale
to me a dog without tail
on our fall i was
when the tale went on without a pause
to me a fairy better not told.
poem by Atimiwoaye Adetunji dayo
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Write in Sand and Stone
Today, my friend yelled at me.
I wrote in sand my friend yelled at me.
Today, my friend punched me.
I wrote in sand my friend punched me.
Today, my friend cursed me.
I wrote in sand my friend cursed me.
Today, my friend abandoned me.
I wrote in sand my friend abandoned me.
Today, my friend insulted me.
I wrote in sand my friend insulted me.
Today, my friend asked me for forgiveness.
I wrote in stone my friend asked for forgiveness.
Today, my friend saved my life.
I wrote in stone my friend saved my life.
Today, my friend made me smile.
I wrote in stone my friend made me smile.
Today, my friend told me she cares for me.
I wrote in stone my friend cares for me.
Today, my friend was grateful for me.
I wrote in stone my friend was grateful for me.
I wrote in sand the bad things my friend did to me.
I wrote in stone the nice things did to me.
Winds will erase the bad things written in sand.
Nothing can erase the nice things written in stone.
Forgive and Forget
poem by Natalie Vail
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Christopher Robin
I must think suddenly of matters too difficult for a bear of little brain. I have never asked myself what lies beyond the place where we live, I and Rabbit, Piglet and Eeyore, with our friend Christopher Robin. That is, we continued to live here, and nothing changed, and I just ate my little something. Only Christopher Robin left for a moment.
Owl says that immediately beyond our garden Time begins, and that it is an awfully deep well. If you fall in it, you go down and down, very quickly, and no one knows what happens to you next. I was a bit worried about Christopher Robin falling in, but he came back and then I asked him about the well. 'Old bear,' he answered. 'I was in it and I was falling and I was changing as I fell. My legs became long, I was a big person, I grew old, hunched, and I walked with a cane, and then I died. It was probably just a dream, it was quite unreal. The only real thing was you, old bear, and our shared fun. Now I won't go anywhere, even if I'm called in for an afternoon snack.'
poem by Czeslaw Milosz
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A Specail Friend
a friend is someone like you a kind a loving person,
gentle and full of fun,
a friend is someone with a heart of a gentle bear,
and cuddles that care,
a friend is someone who you can talk to,
who will never judge?
a true freind can be a man or woman,
friends are friends for life,
the friend can hold your,
heart,
in their hands,
and i have found that,
friend,
and that friend is you
poem by Sharron Stephenson
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Perfect Gift
There's something precious children know,
Something they'll never lose,
Despite the fact that children grow,
Maturing in their views...
A Teddy Bear's a gracious friend,
A listener all the time,
A silent partner to life's end,
With patience so sublime...
A Teddy Bear won't interrupt,
Condemn or criticise,
No wonder that it's so well loved
With twinkles in its eyes...
As if it knows your little heart
Will blossom like the rose,
As if to choose the better part,
As true love overflows...
A Teddy Bear's so cuddly, too,
So snuggly and so warm,
As if its heart beats just for you,
Within its fragile form...
That's why you cuddle oh so much
And tell it all you can,
To keep it up-to-date and such,
As if it were your fan...
A Teddy Bear's a gentle soul,
So calm and so serene,
Somehow it maintains self-control,
No matter what it's seen...
If you throw tantrums, does it sigh?
It lets you speak your mind...
It waits until time passes by...
Till some new peace you find...
A Teddy Bear's a perfect gift
When Christmas comes along,
Because it gives your heart a lift,
If you let it belong...
Ask children and they'll tell you straight,
They like Winnie the Pooh!
Yet to their gracious friend, they'll state,
Dear Teddy, I love you...
Denis Martindale, copyright, February 2012.
poem by Denis Martindale
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Though hell should bar the way,
A friend is a friend,
well beyond the end.
Because a friend lives in the heart,
the soul,
which turns into sweet memories,
when you fall apart and lose control.
A friend, is SURELY a friend,
well beyond the end.
Because a friend shares good cheers,
through sadness and tears,
letting you know that you have a friend here.
A friend is a friend,
well beyond the end.
Because a friend is there to;
Bear pain,
bear witness to the fact that you care,
And gain,
Gain the fact that;
through sorrows, grief, and pain,
*though hell should bar the way,
share laughter and smiles,
well beyond a mile.
Because a friend can be there,
-be there.
Because a friend can be there
at any expense,
at any given time.
poem by Abigail Marie
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I Dont Want To Mention Any Names
(larry cordle, lisa palas)
Ive got a story to tell, would you mind listening.
I can always count on
You were such good friends.
And I need to talk about my situation and
Youre the only one wholl understand.
Now someones got designs on my baby.
Shes making her intentions very plain.
We both know this ole gal
That Im talking about, but I dont
Want to mention any names.
Well shes asked him to slow dance way too often.
Shes made suggestions I dont
Like at all. Im trying to let her know that
Im wise to her game, but i
Dont wanna mention any names.
Well I can understand why shed want him.
Oh youve even said yourself hes quite a prize.
Shes about a good of friend as you are.
Come to think about it shes just about your size.
If she dont back off theres gonna be some trouble.
Im prepared to make that very plain.
I sure hope Ive said enough, and just between the two of us.
Repeat chorus
song performed by by Reba Mcentire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Shadow
I said unto myself, if I were dead,
What would befall these children? What would be
Their fate, who now are looking up to me
For help and furtherance? Their lives, I said,
Would be a volume wherein I have read
But the first chapters, and no longer see
To read the rest of their dear history,
So full of beauty and so full of dread.
Be comforted; the world is very old,
And generations pass, as they have passed,
A troop of shadows moving with the sun;
Thousands of times has the old tale been told;
The world belongs to those who come the last,
They will find hope and strength as we have done.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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I Told Myself
I told myself
You do love me
Is it really true?
She asked me
I told myself
You care for me
Are you really sure?
She asked me
I told myself
You do miss me
As often as you?
She asked me
I told myself
You need me too
Are you guessing?
She asked me
I told myself
You never tell me
Why on Earth?
She asked me
I told myself
You hide a lot…
Is that friendship?
She asked me
I told myself
You think too much
Does he not feel?
She asked me
Tell me, my love
What shall I say?
To all those queries
That she asked me...
How should I answer?
What should I ponder?
Tell me the truth
For she still asks me...
You For Me
And Me For You
Is it the Future?
One last Question
She did ask me.
I don’t have the answers
Yet she keeps asking me…
May be, she knows,
One day, one moment
You’ll let her know
How you feel for me...
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Change
The other day I walked accross the street
i couldnt believe what I appeared to see...
as I looked at a poor boy who came to me
I asked him his name and he didnt know
he just asked me for change.
I asked where is your mum?
he just asked me for change
I asked where is your dad?
he just asked me for change
I asked will someone come?
he just asked me for change
I asked why are you sad?
with no response to my question there was a pause...
but then once again he asked me for change
see, as i watched him dissapear with his pain
I realised that he actualy asked me...
for a change.
poem by Daniel McCann
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Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 2. Interlude II.
'I thought before your tale began,'
The Student murmured, 'we should have
Some legend written by Judah Rav
In his Gemara of Babylon;
Or something from the Gulistan,--
The tale of the Cazy of Hamadan,
Or of that King of Khorasan
Who saw in dreams the eyes of one
That had a hundred years been dead
Still moving restless in his head,
Undimmed, and gleaming with the lust
Of power, though all the rest was dust.
'But lo! your glittering caravan
On the road that leadeth to Ispahan
Hath led us farther to the East
Into the regions of Cathay.
Spite of your Kalif and his gold,
Pleasant has been the tale you told,
And full of color; that at least
No one will question or gainsay.
And yet on such a dismal day
We need a merrier tale to clear
The dark and heavy atmosphere.
So listen, Lordlings, while I tell,
Without a preface, what befell
A simple cobbler, in the year ?
No matter; it was long ago;
And that is all we need to know.'
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Can You Teach Me To Write?
No matter how the question is asked.
Or with words the one asking the question uses.
Whenever I am asked,
'Can you teach me to write?
Like you do? '
This is what I hear...
Not said from lips,
But this is the picture I get:
~Skip all that nonsense about being disciplined.
And please don't mention sacrifice.
To 'that' I wont even listen.
I want to see my name published all over the place.
Tell me how you have done that.
And erase all those trials and tribulations...
With heartache and pain you had to face.
I've got things to say and I know I'm great.
How do I find a publisher? ~
Sure!
I will teach you.
What have you written?
'Oh...
I haven't started yet.
What is it that I need to begin? '
You might want to carry with you a pad and pen.
'Why? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Violence Fills The Earth
As the earth fills with violence, there seems to be much silence,
In the professing Body of Christ, regarding darkness in this life,
Of the things believers are told, the love of most will grow cold,
Has that coldness hindered us, form speaking for Christ Jesus?
Christ asked will He find faith, as He returns at the end of Grace,
A vibrant faith that will uphold, all of His teachings we were told,
Even His teaching on warning friend, about darkness in the end,
With all the darkness in this world, God's Truths we must herald!
As the days of Noah would be, that violence in our time we see,
Upon which judgment shall fall, on all the living, great and small;
This is God's warning to all men, that Judgment is coming again,
Onto all the world as a whole, God's stern warning to every soul!
Even in the time of Abraham, we have a warning from the 'I AM.'
His warning upon two cities, Sodom and Gomorrah for atrocities,
Cities Christ would also mention, this my friend with His intention,
Pointing out what lies ahead, for men who remain spiritually dead.
So we're watchmen on the wall, to warn of judgment ahead for all,
As we point all those in this life, to Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ,
To leave the world's wickedness, to come into His Righteousness,
So they don't see judgment friend, but, Eternal Life come the end.
Last Words
Dead! all's done with!
-- R. Browning.
These blossoms that I bring,
This song that here I sing,
These tears that now I shed,
I give unto the dead.
There is no more to be done,
Nothing beneath the sun,
All the long ages through,
Nothing--by me for you.
The tale is told to the end;
This, ev'n, I may not know--
If we were friend and friend,
If we were foe and foe.
All's done with utterly,
All's done with. Death to me
Was ever Death indeed;
To me no kindly creed
Consolatory was given.
You were of earth, not Heaven. . .
This dreary day, things seem
Vain shadows in a dream,
Or some strange, pictured show;
And mine own tears that flow,
My hidden tears that fall,
The vainest of them all.
Flat Stanley's Visit To England
A little friend came to visit one day
And I said, 'Fancy that! '
He said his name was Stanley,
I said, 'How come you're flat? '
He said it was an accident
A board fell on his head;
But he'd been lucky really, 'cause
It could have killed him dead!
He also said, 'It's easier now
To get around so much'
And he doesn't need a passport
To help him keep in touch.
He slips inside an envelope
As easy as can be,
And travels with the mail
Until he's where he wants to be.
No wonder Stanley's happy
And grinning like a cat:
His life is all adventure...
I wish that I was flat!
poem by John Carter Brown
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Dead Man Walkin'
Ooh
Lemme tell ya story
Outside of Macon
Off a country road
Justice was forsaken
When they let the wrong man go
Johnny law was shady
First one on the scene
They called it murder in the first degree
Dead man walkin'
Walkin' down the hall
Judge says guilty but still he's walkin' tall
Dead man walkin' they say he broke the law
Taken the life of another man
Who done his daughter wrong
Light 'em up
Lay 'em down
Take 'em out
But there's more of us around
Wrong is right when right is wrong
But there's a dead man walkin' tonight
Walk on
Walk on
Walk on
But there's a dead man walkin' tonight
If I asked you a question
Could you tell the truth
Would you pull the trigger
If you were standin' in his shoes
Dead man walkin'
I know what I'd do
If someone hurt my baby I'd be walkin' too
Light 'em up
Lay 'em down
Take 'em out
But there's more of us around
When right is wrong and wrong is right
Oh there's a dead man walkin' tonight
Walk on
You gotta walk on baby
Walk on
Walk on
Walk on
So if I asked you that question
Would you tell the truth?
song performed by by Lynyrd Skynyrd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In Memory Of Mateland
Dear friend
I just found out
You died a terrible death
My heart sunk
When I heard the news
I said a short prayer
Asking God
To let you rest
In peace.
Then it came to mind
The last time
I saw you
And the state
You were in:
You asked for money
Which I gave you
Later I was told
You foraged the dump
For food.
Given the way
You were raised
The way you ended
Is a tragedy.
Dear friend,
I missed you.
poem by Buxton Shippy
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They Asked About You
(freddy weller, kim nash, bill nash)
Saturday night
Out on the town
Feeling so sure of myself
Meeting some friends
Sharing some laughs
Not thinking of anything else
Then one of them leaned over my shoulder
And all at once the party was over
Chorus:
They asked about you
And suddenly it all came back to me
Then all the walls around my heart
Came crashing at my feet
When they asked about you
(oh) they asked about you
I was doing ok
Until they asked about you
How could they know
What it would do
All they did was mention your name
And just like that
The hurting was back
Thats when I knew nothing had changed
What a time for old memories to find me
Just when I thought Id put em behind me
Repeat chorus
song performed by by Reba Mcentire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Will you be my friend?
Will you be my friend?
In a gentle manner he asks
Will you be my friend?
Or is that too much of a task?
Many a time when feeling lonely
I long to be loved
Welcomed and made to feel homely
A friend I need
One who can share my joys
Friendship I seek, and not to destroy
A friend I need
Someone not afraid to tell me off
When ever I am wrong
Instead encourage me to be strong
Someone who can
Life my spirits when I am down
Not look upon me with a frown
Will you be my friend?
In a gentle manner he asks
Will you be my friend?
Or is that too much of a task?
‘Why me’ she curiously asks
I’m no beauty behind my mask
And he replies, ’ Because you are so gentle’
Patiently understanding and simple
You exhibit utmost kindness
The title friendship goddess
Is yours, if I am honest with gladness
You display compassion and intelligence
You never judge and there is no pretence
My life with you will make a difference
We rhyme together in towns
And joke around like clowns
When we talk on the phone
I merrily feel not alone
You shine like the sun and are fun
You are always there with support
Continuously making sacrificial efforts
Well then, I am already your friend
She says, ‘unless you want our friendship to end.’
Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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