Poem - II
Death walks through the mind's dark woods,
Beautiful as aconite,
A lily-flower in his pale hand
And eyes like moonstones burning bright.
Love walks down heart's corridors
Singing for a crust of bread
All the tales of laughing youth
Who tomorrow will lie dead.
Here two summer metaphors;
For even on a sun-mad day
Laughter breaks into salt tears,
And grave is never far away.
poem by Henry Treece
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Related quotes
Song VII
THE summer down the garden walks
Swept in her garments bright;
She touched the pale still lily stalks
And crowned them with delight;
She breathed upon the rose's head
And filled its heart with fire,
And with a golden carpet spread
The path of my desire.
The larkspurs stood like sentinels
To greet her as she came,
Soft rang the Canterbury bells
The music of her name.
She passed across the happy land
Where all dear dreams flower free;
She took my true love by the hand
And led her out to me.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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When She Walks By
Eyes so dark
Heart so pure
I could never love another
The way I love her
Gleam in her eyes
Like a candles flame
I love when I hear her
Call out my name
When she walks by
Birds stop their flight
The dead come to life
And the blind regain their sight
I could never love another
The way I love her
Eyes so dark
Heart so pure
Skin so soft
Soul on fire
She fills me with
Complete desire
The way she moves
The way she looks
One glance at her
Was all it took
When she walks by
People stare
At her radiant face
And her ebony hair
She fills me with
Complete desire
Skin so soft
Soul on fire
Perfect body
A scholar's mind
Michelangelo would envy
Such a find
Beautiful smile
Always sincere
Whoever's around
Wants her near
When she walks by
Angels weep
Gods hide their faces
And lovers leap
Michelangelo would envy
Such a find
Perfect body
A scholar's mind
poem by Vizard Dhawan
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This Ghost.
the ghost of me walks alone
looking neither right or left
up or down.
sorrow walks beside this ghost
of i.
for what could have been
for what id hoped to be
to love, a love like thee.
my thoughts thought of love
my heart beat of it
but you didn, t feel it
you left me heartbroken
as you left me broken
now this ghost of me
walks the sorrow corridors
of my mind.
weeping at the good times
thinking of what should
have been.
poem by Graham Russell
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The Summons
Some day, when the golden glory
Of June is over the earth,
And the birds are singing together
In a wild, mad strain of mirth;
When the skies are as clear and cloudless
As the skies in June can be,
I would like to have the summons
Sent down from God to me.
Some glowing, golden morning
In the heart of the summer time,
As I stand in the perfect vigour
And strength of my youth's glad prime;
When my heart is light and happy,
And the word seems to bright to me,
I would like to dropp from this earth life,
As a green leaf drops from a tree.
I would not wait for the furrows -
For the faded eyes and hair;
But pass out swift and sudden,
Ere I grow heart-sick with care;
I would break some morn in my singing -
Or fall in my springing walk
As a full-blown flower will sometimes
Drop, all a-bloom, from the stalk.
I think the leaf would sooner
Be the first to break away,
Than to hang alone in the orchard
In the bleak November day.
And I think the fate of the flower
That falls in the midst of bloom
Is sweeter than if it lingered
To die in the autumn's gloom.
And so, in my youth's glad morning,
While the summer walks abroad,
I would like to hear the summons,
That must come, sometime, from God.
I would pass from the earth's perfection
To the endless June above:
From the fullness of living and loving,
To the noon of Immortal Love.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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My Heart is Broken
Does anyone know that my heart is broken?
Perhaps no one really knows because of the laughter I show when I'm with them,
Nobody knows that my heart is hurting because of that person.
Those days in love it was the laughter that made me happy,
Waking up in the morning next to the person that I loved,
It was everything that I could wished for,
But the laughter faded when the person said it was over.
Years have passed by but the memories are still here,
And I don't think I could ever erase the person from my mind,
Those wonderful memories from my heart.
My heart is bleeding from the sad memories that were once happy,
I can laugh and laugh,
I can lie to myself and my friends,
But the tears from the laughter are the tears from the heartbreak.
Sometimes in the nights I hear myself laughing,
The laughter that echoes through the nights,
Through the lonely dark room,
I sometimes realize that not all of the echoing sounds are laughter,
But they are the tears and sadness coming from my heart.
How can I erase anything when the person's love was so beautiful?
How can I erase that person from my memory,
When I still love that person so much
poem by Heather Noble
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0194 A Boy's Vision
The boy walks past the window;
you can see he's
got something clearly in his mind;
walks firmly on both feet as if
he walked on grass;
his carriage upright,
a half-smile on his face;
his eyes are bright;
he swings his hands from side to side
in front of him.
He has a vision.
Ah yes.
His captain's just tossed the ball to him;
it's his spell to bowl.
This is what he was born to do;
he has the skills;
he knows he can do it; can't wait; but
no hurry, as he's confident,
switching the ball from hand to hand,
warming it with his love.
The boy walks past the window.
He has a vision.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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The Camp Within the West
O DID you see a troop go by
Way-weary and oppressed,
Dead kisses on the drooping lip
And a dead heart in the breast?
Yea, I have seen them one by one
Way-weary and oppressed,
And when I asked them, ‘Whither speed?’
They answered, ‘To the West!’
And were they pale as pale could be—
Death-pale with haunted eyes,
And did you see the hot white dust
Range round their feet and rise?
Oh, they were pale as pale could be,
And pale as an embered leaf;
The hot white dust had risen, but
They laid it with their grief.
Did no one say the way is long,
And crave a little rest?
Oh no, they said, ‘The night is nigh,
Our camp is in the West!’
And did pain pierce their feet, as though
The way with thorns were set,
And were they visited by strange
Dark angels of regret?
Oh yea, and some were mute as death,
Though shot by many a dart,
With them the salt of inward tears
Went stinging through the heart.
And how are these wayfarers called,
And whither do they wend?
The Weary-Hearted—and their road
At sunset hath and end.
Shed tears for them…Nay, nay, no tears!
They yearn for endless rest;
Perhaps large stars will burn above
Their camp within the West.
poem by Roderic Quinn
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Bright and Beautiful Sea
Bright and beautiful sea! I love thee well—
In sunshine, oh bear me away;
On thy bosom I'll ride, when the salt waves swell
'Neath the light of the moon's pale ray.
Still softly, oh! softly cradle my head,
And my sleep shall be sweet with thee,
For the planets keep watch o'er the dreamer's bed
On the bright and beautiful sea.
Earth is not thine, with her selfish decrees,
With her toils and her fading flow'rs;—
But the blue sky above—the sun—and the breeze,
And the bright and the laughing hours.
Bright and beautiful sea! Oh! let me glide,
Forgetting the sorrows of earth—
For glad is the music of thy sparkling tide,
Thou sea, in thy billowy mirth!
Bright and beautiful sea! I love thee well—
In sunshine, oh bear me away;
On thy bosom I'll ride, when the salt waves swell
'Neath the light of the moon's pale ray.
poem by Edward Henry Bickersteth
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Soul Less
And he walks soul less.
the past dark and endless.
skeltons we all have.
his always whispering.
And he walks soul less.
Grass green, but he cant smell it.
sky blue but he cant see it
life wonderess. but he has forgotten.
And he walks soul less.
Towards a destiny he cant avoid
a destiny he fears he created.
a destiny paid for in spades.
And he walks soul less
Scared, broken, unloved, shamed.
the ground all his eyes now ponder.
a man in body only.
And he walks soul less
poem by Vincent Armone
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Beautiful Disaster
He drowns in his dreams
An exquisite extreme I know
He's as damned as he seems
And more Heaven than a heart could hold
And if I tried to save him
My whole world could cave in
It just ain't right
But it just ain't right
Oh and I don't know
I don't know what he's after
But he's so beautiful
Such a beautiful disaster
And if I could hold on
Through the tears and the laughter
Would it be beautiful
Or just a beautiful disaster
He's magic and myth
As strong as what I believe
A tragedy with
More damage than a soul should see
But do I try to change him
So hard not to blame him
Hold me tight
Baby hold me tight
Oh and I don't know
I don't know what he's after
But he's so beautiful
Such a beautiful disaster
And if I could hold on
Through the tears and the laughter
Would it be beautiful
Or just a beautiful disaster
I'm longing for love and the logical
But he's only happy hysterical
I'm searching for some kind of miracle
Waiting so long
Waiting so long
He's soft to the touch
But frayed at the ends he breaks
He's never enough
And still he's more than I can take
Oh and I don't know
I don't know what he's after
But he's so beautiful,
He's such a beautiful disaster
And if I could hold on
Through the tears and the laughter
Would it be beautiful,
Or just a beautiful disaster
He's so beautiful
Oh he's just so beautiful
He's so beautiful
song performed by by Kelly Clarkson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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And Meanwhile Love
Waking in the dream-tossed night, I knew you harmed
a thousand miles away in suffering’s dark storm;
so only love
pain comes no easier when it comes again,
the closing and the parting, pain
so simply love
I would it did not come to you,
but come it does, makes true untrue
and meanwhile love
the salt sea breaks on fate's dark reef,
the tears are salt, bring no relief
so only love
all things may pass as summer rain;
I cannot promise aught of pain
but meanwhile love
my heart beats fast, your heart’s repair
not mine to give; I here, you there;
so only love
there seems no sense when innocence
lacks reason as its last defence
yet always, somewhere, love
(for both of you)
poem by Michael Shepherd
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The Itinerant Singing Girl
Fatherless and motherless, no brothers have I,
And all my little sisters in the cold grave lie;
Wasted with hunger I saw them falling dead -
Lonely and bitter are the tears I shed.
Friendless and loverless, I wander to and fro,
Singing while my faint heart is breaking fast with woe,
Smiling in my sorrow, and singing for my bread -
Lonely and bitter are the tears I shed.
Harp clang and merry song by stranger's door and board,
None ask wherefore tremble my pale lips at each word;
None care why the color from my wan cheek has fled -
Lonely and bitter are the tears I shed.
Smiling and singing still, tho' hunger, want, and woe,
Freeze the young life-current in my veins as I go;
Begging for my living, yet wishing I were dead -
Lonely and bitter are the tears I shed.
poem by Jane Francesca Wilde
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Watching Angels Cry
A heart breaks powerless
Watching pale eyes look away
In search of some escape
A pain they try to keep hidden
Masked behind a beautiful smile
Painted eyes hiding tears
The kindest soul pretending
That they have nothing to hide
Yet it can still be seen
A hand or kind word offered
Awaits an honest reply
Wanting to help to protect
Unable to change the world
While waiting restless
Watching angels cry
A heart breaks powerless
For a beautiful life
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Thin Summer Dress
After the party laughter,
Her lips are still red
As she walks beneath
The soft glow of moonlight.
Lasciviously, she smiles at me
Knowing I already adore her
Even more than my wounded eyes
Could ever reveal
Gazing upon her
Like a pious monk
Upon a sacred icon.
Her thin summer dress
Tenderly breaks my heart,
But this is the type of suffering
In which I desire to linger.
poem by Uriah Hamilton
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A Man Walks Slowly To His Own Grave
A man walks slowly to his own grave
And whether he stops or runs,
A man walks slowly to his own grave
wherever he is,
whatever he does,
A man walks surely to his own grave.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Modern Love XLV: It Is the Season
It is the season of the sweet wild rose,
My Lady's emblem in the heart of me!
So golden-crownèd shines she gloriously,
And with that softest dream of blood she glows:
Mild as an evening heaven round Hesper bright!
I pluck the flower, and smell it, and revive
The time when in her eyes I stood alive.
I seem to look upon it out of Night.
Here's Madam, stepping hastily. Her whims
Bid her demand the flower, which I let drop.
As I proceed, I feel her sharply stop,
And crush it under heel with trembling limbs.
She joins me in a cat-like way, and talks
Of company, and even condescends
To utter laughing scandal of old friends.
These are the summer days, and these our walks.
poem by George Meredith
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Anthem
When the night wind softly blows through my open window
Then I start to remember the girl that brought me joy
Now the night wind softly blows sadness to tomorrow
Bringing tears to eyes so tired
Eyes I thought could cry no more
If the day would only come
Then you might just appear
Even though youd soon be gone
When I reached out my hand
If I could see you
If only I could see you
To see if you are laughing or crying
When the night winds softly blow
In my dark and whispering room
Memories still bring me a numbness to my feelings
Take my hand and brush my brow
In the warm and fevered dark
Heart is madly beating
My crazy thoughts are burning
When the night winds softly blow
If the day would only come
Then you might just appear
Even though youd soon be gone
When I reached out my hand
If I could see you
If only I could see you
To see if you are laughing or crying
When the night winds softly blow
If the day would only come
Then you might just appear
Even though youd soon be gone
When I reached out my hand
If I could see you
If only I could see you
To see if you are laughing or crying
When the night winds softly blow
song performed by by Deep Purple
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Change
Remember me as I was then;
Turn from me now, but always see
The laughing shadowy girl who stood
At midnight by the flowering tree,
With eyes that love had made as bright
As the trembling stars of the summer night.
Turn from me now, but always hear
The muted laughter in the dew
Of that one year of youth we had,
The only youth we ever knew --
Turn from me now, or you will see
What other years have done to me.
poem by Sara Teasdale
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Revenente
The bells of memory sound this summer day
Down the long alleys of the blue-skied years;
Shy cowslip, thyme, the haunting scent of hay,
Pleached gardens nourished by a lover's tears,
And honeysuckle, shy maid in the hedge,
Are all Her handmaids; blessed is the sight
The mirror-pool caught of Her. So the stage
Is set for entrance, and a girl in white
Walks in my heart again, out of pale death,
Kingdom of shrivelled mouth and powdering bone,
Touching my cheek with flower-laden breath,
And whispering, 'Poor love, and still alone?'
Was any man so lucky, dear God?
It will be dawn before She takes the road.
poem by Henry Treece
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Laughter
Then the Lord smiles
Flowers florescence
Tickled heart shines
In twinkling eyes
Befriending laughing tears..
Laughter is heavenly
Savvy happy, for it links
Body, mind, soul so intense
Beatitude for it enchains
Being to being contagious
Harmony for it thereon begets
Laughter is heavenly..
Hell with laughing devils
Their laughter of cacophonic peals
Laughs to laugh at tears
Not so, not so with heavenwards
Imbibed of seventh heaven redolence
Laughter is heavenly
poem by Indira Renganathan
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