A Noon Song
There are songs for the morning and songs for the night,
For sunrise and sunset, the stars and the moon;
But who will give praise to the fulness of light,
And sing us a song of the glory of noon?
Oh, the high noon, the clear noon,
The noon with golden crest;
When the blue sky burns, and the great sun turns
With his face to the way of the west!
How swiftly he rose in the dawn of his strength;
How slowly he crept as the morning wore by;
Ah, steep was the climbing that led him at length
To the height of his throne in the wide summer sky.
Oh, the long toil, the slow toil,
The toil that may not rest,
Till the sun looks down from his journey's crown,
To the wonderful way of the west!
Then a quietness falls over meadow and hill,
The wings of the wind in the forest are furled,
The river runs softly, the birds are all still,
The workers are resting all over the world.
Oh, the good hour, the kind hour,
The hour that calms the breast!
Little inn half-way on the road of the day,
Where it follows the turn to the west!
There's a plentiful feast in the maple-tree shade,
The lilt of a song to an old-fashioned tune,
The talk of a friend, or the kiss of a maid,
To sweeten the cup that we drink to the noon.
Oh, the deep noon, the full noon,
Of all the day the best!
When the blue sky burns, and the great sun turns
To his home by the way of the west.
poem by Henry Van Dyke
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
High Noon
A leather life from the prairie to the blue, blue ocean
A one horse town of promised gold and western fortune
Oh, token slug of bourbon
Time after time
High noon - riding a dream
Lie after lie
High noon - not what they seem
But it only happened in film
Hot dust and lust, a dawn to dusk can lead to danger
I bought a lover locket - a barroom dolly -
Bathtub stranger (swear to me calamity again!)
Sasperella
Red neck fella
Lace umbrella
Be my girl!
When I find the west is won
Got to keep on rolling on and on
Time after time
High noon - riding a dream
Lie after lie
High noon - not what they seem
Mile after mile
High noon - building a dream
Lie after lie
High noon - not what they seem
song performed by by Haircut 100
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Song For All Day
A rollicking song for the morn, my boy,
A rollicking song for the morn:
It's up and out with a laugh and shout,
While the bright sun circles the world about,
And the dew is on the corn, my boy,
The dew is on the corn.
Barefoot, brown, with trousers torn,
It's up and out with the morn.
A jolly good song for the noon, my boy,
A jolly good song for the noon:
It's out and away where the wild woods sway,
And the wind and the birds have a holiday,
And whistle an oldtime tune, my boy,
And whistle an oldtime tune.
Healthy, happy, a heart of June,
It's out in the woods at noon.
A wonderful song for the eve, my boy,
A wonderful song for the eve:
The sunset's bars and a trail of stars,
And the falls of the creek a mine of spars,
Or a weft of crystal weave, my boy,
A weft of crystal weave.
Hungry, tired, with nothing to grieve,
It's home again at eve.
A lullaby song for the night, my boy,
A lullaby song for the night:
When crickets cry and owlets fly,
And the house-hound bays the moon on high,
And the window-lamp shines bright, my boy,
The window-lamp shines bright.
A drowsy kiss and a bed snow-white,
And a lullaby-song for the night.
poem by Madison Julius Cawein
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lasso The Moon
She carries the water from the well in the morning
While the sand burns her feet the sun only stares
And the loneliness lingers with slow grasping fingers
As the afternoon withers the flowers in her hair
Then night fills the sky as she sits on the hillside
And memories drift by like clouds past the stars
Recalling romances and all the bright chances
But none of them lasted. they passed through her heart
And she says -
Where is a man who can build a good fire
With a passion as wide as the sky at high noon
A man whose hand is strong as his longing
Where is the man who can lasso the moon
She falls asleep and her dreams are her blanket
And she shares with the moon the secret she knows
As the dawn leaves its tears to wash the dry valley
The tears of a woman can wash a mans soul
And she says -
Where is a man who can build a good fire
With a passion as wide as the sky at high noon
A man whose hand is strong as his longing
Where is the man who can lasso the moon
And she says -
Where is a man who can build a good fire
With a passion as wide as the sky at high noon
A man whose hand is strong as his longing
Where is the man who can lasso the moon
And I say -
I am a man who can build a good fire
And my passions as wide as the sky at high noon
Come take my hand, its as strong as your longing
Just say the word and Ill lasso the moon
song performed by by Level 42
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Song Do You Sing…
What song do you sing?
When you see the sun
At noon,
Bright and fiery
Only to come at one
To meet the sunset.
What song do you sing?
When you look at the
Moon,
To go, bring mat
Only to come out with
Tears gushing out.
What song do you sing?
What song to sing
As the lock cling.
We used to lift
And dip our souls
In it’s bowels,
We’d with old farewells….
What song do you sing? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? (part 1)
What song do you sing?
What song to sing
For the birds is gone home
To be with the stars
As they croon.
Up they’re in the sky.
What song do you sing?
How do you start?
Do you gather scalpels,
To go knock it
Against the pears,
As elegy, for its peers.
What song do you sing?
How do you start?
Do you gather firewood’s
On your way home,
To go await the coming
Of the moon.
After the quick noon.
What song do you sing?
How do you start?
Do you make the rhythm,
As she smiles….
With the echoes of
Yonder, a thousand miles.
And I see my feelings
Wrapped by her arms,
To share songs.
What song did you sing for her?
Written by
Pickzone007
a.k.a De_Cruxifixion.
poem by Goodluck Etserefe
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Memory
My mind lets go a thousand things
Like dates of wars and deaths of kings,
And yet recalls the very hour--
'T was noon by yonder village tower,
And on the last blue noon in May--
The wind came briskly up this way,
Crisping the brook beside the road;
Then, pausing here, set down its load
Of pine-scents, and shook listlessly
Two petals from that wild-rose tree.
poem by Thomas Bailey Aldrich
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The Old Man's Lament
The child-sun blazes
through grey morning fog
his passion overpowers
night’s sluggish slog
‘till bright noon’s on fire
with his effervescent love,
but it’s all the same, it’s
all the same.
Morning, noon, and night
may embrace our little lives,
but it’s all the same.
The ancient moon rises
in the fast-fading east.
Bloody sun dies, failed day retreats,
but it’s all the same, it’s all
the same.
Morning, noon, and night
may consume our little lives
but it’s all the same, all
the same.
poem by Steven Federle
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Sonnet Of The High Sun
At noon, we stride and walking together
The peace is stronger than the war of now.
A man shall face his maker and neighbour,
Then noon turns dust to stone, due to the cow.
A worker finds one’s heart aflutter since,
May charges be just sent towards disgust;
My cuckoo crawls and sings for that old prince
Who seeks a land of birds, crazy trust!
This land is of those birds in flight across
The seas of fortune, and of course destroy
A noon, when called by some, and not at loss
Are these delights: destroy the very toy!
Our land is awkward and designed by birds
That fly at noon, to shoot across some words.
poem by Naveed Akram
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The Vineyard
At the eleventh hour he came,
But his wages were the same
As ours who all day long had trod
The wine-press of the Wrath of God.
When he shouldered through the lines
Of our cropped and mangled vines,
His unjaded eye could scan
How each hour had marked its man.
(Children of the morning-tide
With the hosts of noon died,
And our noon contingents lay
Dead with twilight's spent array.)
Since his back had felt no load ,
Virtue still in him abode;
So he swiftly made his own
Those last spoils we had not won.
We went home delivered thence,
Grudging him no recompense
Till he portioned praise of blame
To our works before he came.
Till he showed us for our good--
Deaf to mirth, and blind to scorn--
How we might have best withstood
Burdens that he had not born!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Tut-Ench-Amon (Tutankhamen)
Been and seen down flight from chicago
All aboard the African Queen
I am on a night boat down to cairo
Feeling like a tourist with a foreign man abroad
Tells it like he thinks it is, but I know he is fraud
There is a map tucked under his shoulder
and a cap perched on his head
If he looked any older, he might as well be dead
Dressed in army surplus the files around me swarm
On a mission without a purpose, I wish I'd never been born
By the light of a pale moon - Tutankhamen
Half past high noon - Tutankhamen
Put you in the picture - 1884
I'm up to date on the literature
but I have never been here before
There is a black boy on the corner trailing me behind
Stalking like a vulture money on his mind
In the shadow of the giant sphinx the archeological tale
Before the eastern sun sinks I'll be learning braille
By the light of a pale moon - Tutankhamen
Half past high noon - Tutankhamen
They are playing our tune - Tutankhamen
Half past high noon - Tutankhamen
By the light of a, light of a pale moon - Tutankhamen
Half past high noon - Tutankhamen
By the light of a pale moon - Tutankhamen
Half past high noon - Tutankhamen
song performed by by Falco
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love Magical
IF you had been where I have been
(Grey, grey the skies above),
And you had seen what I have seen,
You would not laugh at love.
Seek, seek till you find a rose
Red all through to its petal-tips,
And you shall know the curve of her mouth,
The scent of her breath and the red of her lips.
If you had heard what I have heard
(Dull, dull the beat of the sea).
Your heart would leap like a singing bird
Troubled and thrilled by ecstasy.
Stars sing in the dark o' the night,
Birds sing in the gold o' the noon;
Melody reigned in her speech a queen,
The song of the stars and the birds' tune.
The rose is dead that was her mouth
(Pale, pale on the earth it lies),
And East and West and North and South
The world is full of weeping eyes.
A noon is dark, a star is gone,
A rose is dead, a bird is mute;
And love that made sounds magical
Is silent like a broken lute.
poem by Roderic Quinn
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I'd Rather Be Loved
I'd rather be loved,
Than to be painted...
As somebody that I aint,
To then be tainted.
I'd rather be loved,
Than to be sainted.
As someone that's depicted,
In a way to be shamed.
And by...
The light of the moon,
I want to be seen as the person that I am!
And by...
The dawn until noon,
I want to be seen as the person that I am!
I'd rather be loved...
Under bright lighted moon.
And,
Seen to be the person that I am.
I'd rather be loved...
From the dawning 'til noon.
By somebody who completely understands.
I'd rather be loved...
Under bright lighted moon.
I'd rather be loved...
From the dawning 'til noon.
And...
By that one who knows and understands.
I'd rather be loved...
From the dawning 'til noon.
And,
When night falls we know there's no demands.
And...
When night falls we're there and understand.
And...
We know what we do and what we can.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Think About You
I THINK ABOUT YOU EVERY MORNING
I THINK ABOUT YOU, BABE, EVERY NOON
I THINK ABOUT YOU EVERY EVENING
I THINK ABOUT YOU WHEN I LOOK UP AT THE MOON
I DON'T KNOW WHY THE HELL IT HAPPENED
I CAN SAY WE'RE BOTH CRAZY IN THE HEAD
WE FIGHT AND ARGUE ALL THE TIME ABOUT NOTHING
WHEN ALL WE BOTH WANT IS JUST TO BE IN LOVE NOT DEAD
I THINK ABOUT YOU EVERY MORNING
I THINK ABOUT YOU, BABE, EVERY NOON
I THINK ABOUT YOU EVERY EVENING
I THINK ABOUT YOU WHEN I KNOW I'LL SEE YOU SOON
I REALLY KNOW HOW MUCH I LOVE YOU BABY
I KNOW HOW MUCH YOU REALLY LOVE ME, TOO
SO WHY IS IT THEY WE ARE SO WRONG TOGETHER
HOW THE HELL COULD OUR REALITY BE SO CRUEL
I THINK ABOUT YOU EVERY MORNING
I THINK ABOUT YOU, BABE, EVERY NOON
I THINK ABOUT YOU EVERY EVENING
I THINK ABOUT YOU WHENEVER I'M IN TUNE
poem by Talile Ali
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Noonday Rest
Calmer than midnight's deepest hush
Is the sun-bright Summer nooning,
With its cloudy shadows seeking rest,
That fall on the hillside swooning.
Great Night with its solemn starry eyes,
Over Day's gate asks us whither
We go, what our password is,
To the camp beyond the river.
But sunny Noon with its sleepy smile
Ripples the grain field over,
Without a thought of the silent graves
That may lie beneath the clover.
Knee-deep the drowsy cattle stand
In the water's golden glimmer,
While berry bush and bramble spray
Along the hot wall shimmer.
The plowshare glitters in the sun
Through murdered daisies clinging:
The nested birds leave busy bees
To do the noonday singing.
Bright Noon no eager question asks,
But like an old nurse story
old as she holds us on her breast,
Croons soft of love and glory.
The weary plowman's lazy length
Lies in the shadow narrow,
That clings about the haystack foot,
Careless as guarded sparrow.
Oh, peaceful hour of Summer Noon!
Life has its midnight slumber;
Has it no noonday rest for us,
When cares shall cease to cumber?
poem by Ethel Lynn Beers from All Quiet along the Potomac and other poems (1879)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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So Glow
Sail with me
sail with me in my sea honey
leave your sadness behind
leave this blue
this gloom
baby
sail with this boom
Don't worry about what
so loom
Roam with romance
Spool with the rock
And roll
Don't be gloom
so
move baby
this cloudy
seal of cry
Your smiley
Baby face
as sheen of noon
What this gloom
Not yours
so
let it go
In smoke
You so sweet
so
baby don't goof
I need your galaxy and your glow
And the good look of your glamour
You as the dawns
shake of the doom
So
and as the moon
Baby
Am your groom
You are bloom
take off
this hood
Turn with glow
so
Glide baby with the beams of your gleams
As the sun rise
In the noon
You the morning glary
For sure
and so
You make a shade glaze
At the full moon
so
baby
make my nights
like after noon
poem by Sallam Yassin
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Just Wanna Love You
Written: stock aitken waterman
1a:
Baby, theres no way of knowing
If weve got a good thing going
Better not believe in true love
Thats what people say
Theres nothing fatal in attraction
Im just looking for some action
Better not go chasing rainbows
Thats what people say
1b:
Every time I see your face
Emotion takes control of me
It turns me round and puts me in a spin
Oh cant you see
Chorus:
I just wanna love you
I wanna be the one
Whos holding you tonight
I just wanna love you
Every minute of the hour
Every morning, noon and night
2:
Theres gotta be a way to show you
Id really like to get to know you
I could make you happy
If youd take a chance on me
Dont wanna talk about forever
Cant you see its now or never
Dont think about tomorrow
Take a change on me
You know it makes me so excited
Every time I think of you
It turns me round and puts me in a spin
Oh cant you see
Chorus:
I just wanna love you
I, I just wanna love you
(holding you tonight)
I just wanna love you
I, I just wanna love you
(every morning, noon and night)
Take a chance, take a chance, chance
Take a chance, take a chance
Take a chance on me
Take a chance, take a chance, chance
Take a chance, take a chance
Take a chance on me
1b:
Chorus:
I just wanna love you
I just wanna love you
(holding you tonight)
I just wanna love you
I just wanna love you
(every morning, noon and night)
Chorus:
song performed by by Kylie Minogue
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Work Machines
Some ride high pacers
Then buckle, then groom,
I toil the mornings
And weary by noon,
Some lie on beaches
While others sip wine,
I work my magic
From noon until nine.
Some pass each hour in
A long, speechless haze,
Some watch from windows
Some others, for days,
Some look for something
They cannot define,
I work machines
That decipher each line.
Some will learn nothing
Who sit by and wait
For life to approach them
Before it's too late,
I tend to secrets
In shape and in form,
Lending my essence
From dusk until dawn.
Others may wait
For the end of their spell,
I weave my magic
With engines from hell,
Engines of noise that
By dight and by dint
I coax from disaster
As slowly - they print!
25 March 1985
poem by David Lewis Paget
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Crescent Noon
Green september
Burned to october brown
Bare november
Led to decembers frozen ground
The seasons stumbled round
Our drifting lives are bound
To a falling crescent noon
Feather clouds cry
A vale of tears to earth
Morning breaks and
No one sees the quiet mountain birth
Dressed in a brand new day
The sun is on its way
To a falling crescent noon
Somewhere in
A fairytale forest lies one
Answer that is waiting to be heard
You and I were
Born like the breaking day
All our seasons
All our green septembers
Burn away
Slowly well fade into
A sea of midnight blue
And a falling crescent noon
song performed by by Carpenters
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Ghosts' High Noon
When the night wind howls in the chimney cowls, and the bat in the
moonlight flies,
And inky clouds, like funeral shrouds, sail over the midnight skies -
When the footpads quail at the night-bird's wail, and black dogs
bay the moon,
Then is the spectres' holiday - then is the ghosts' high noon!
As the sob of the breeze sweeps over the trees, and the mists lie
low on the fen,
From grey tombstones are gathered the bones that once were women
and men,
And away they go, with a mop and a mow, to the revel that ends too
soon,
For cockcrow limits our holiday - the dead of the night's high
noon!
And then each ghost with his ladye-toast to their churchyard beds
take flight,
With a kiss, perhaps, on her lantern chaps, and a grisly grim "good
night";
Till the welcome knell of the midnight bell rings forth its
jolliest tune,
And ushers our next high holiday - the dead of the night's high
noon!
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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Noontime Pains
Aloud The sirens sound loudly for the arrival of high noon
The world stops
& snoops The heart keeps
Leaps
Even in high noon Pains, stones,
wide eyes till one p.m. and some bland stories to keep this harsh day moving
till five.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Twilight And Peace
O GREY and dewy Twilight,
Thou, who comest softly, bringing
Silence sweeter than all music,
Song of bird or mortal singing;
Thou, who walkest with thy shadows
Through the mountains and the meadows,
Hither come, hither come;
For the morn was dull and dreary,
And the noon was hot and weary,
And the hours that followed after
Were too full of care for laughter,
And too full of toil for many and too full of tears for some.
O grey and dewy Twilight,
There are those within the forest
Who are waiting for thy coming
And the potions that thou pourest,
Bringing balm to feathered bosom,
Wilted leaf and withered blossom —
Bid them sleep, bid them sleep;
For their morn was dull and dreary,
And their noon was hot and weary,
And the hours that followed brought them
Arid winds that evil wrought them,
For the crushing heat lay heavy on each little flower and breast.
O grey and dewy Twilight,
There are those in town and city
Who are ailing, ailing for thee;
For thou hast the balm of pity,
And the cooling calm that lingers
In a mother's gentle fingers —
Soothe them so, soothe them so;
For their morn was dull and dreary,
And their noon was hot and weary,
And the hours that followed after
Were too full of toil for laughter,
And too full of want for many, and for some too full of woe.
O grey and dewy Twilight,
There is one thou dost resemble;
And I feel that 'neath her footsteps
Even now the airs do tremble,
And the shadows fly before her,
And the silent stars bend o'er her
As she nears, as she nears —
Man and maid to joyance wooing,
Doves in concert with her cooing,
Round about her love and laughter,
Golden plenty speeding after,
And a magic in her presence to make sweet the salt of tears.
poem by Roderic Quinn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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