Hesper
Her eyes are like the evening air,
Her voice is like a rose,
Her lips are like a lovely song,
That ripples as it flows,
And she herself is sweeter than
The sweetest thing she knows.
A slender, haunting, twilight form
Of wonder and surprise,
She seemed a fairy or a child,
Till, deep within her eyes,
I saw the homeward-leading star
Of womanhood arise.
poem by Henry Van Dyke
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In My Sky At Twilight
In my sky at twilight you are like a cloud
and your form and colour are the way I love them.
You are mine, mine, woman with sweet lips
and in your life my infinite dreams live.
The lamp of my soul dyes your feet,
the sour wine is sweeter on your lips,
oh reaper of my evening song,
how solitary dreams believe you to be mine!
You are mine, mine, I go shouting it to the afternoon's
wind, and the wind hauls on my widowed voice.
Huntress of the depth of my eyes, your plunder
stills your nocturnal regard as though it were water.
You are taken in the net of my music, my love,
and my nets of music are wide as the sky.
My soul is born on the shore of your eyes of mourning.
In your eyes of mourning the land of dreams begin.
poem by Pablo Neruda
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Sweet Emotion
Seems every star is out tonight to light our love
So round the moon so full and bright so high above
But if you look real closely theres only me, theres only you
And when you hold me closely, yeah
And now the sky melts in the sea like they are one
Its hard to tell where one first starts and where ends one
Thats the way our love is
You part of me me part of you
Thats just what love is
Sweet you got the sweetest emotion, baby
Sweet, sweet emotion
Sweet you got the sweetest emotion
Sweeter than sweet
Sweeter than sweet
Sweeter than sweet
You took me from the surface to a deeper deep
Showing me that you
And you are life for me
Our love will last forever
Me loving you, you loving me
Well always be together oh
Sweet you got the sweetest emotion
Sweet, sweet emotion
Sweet, sweet emotion
Sweet you got the sweetest emotion
Sweeter than sweet
Sweeter than sweet
Sweeter than sweet
Sweet, you got the sweetest emotion
Sweet, you got the sweetest emotion
Listen baby
Listen to me
Sweeter than sweet
Sweeter than sweet
Sweeter than sweet
You got the sweet emotion, yeah
Listen to me
song performed by by Donna Summer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love's Old Sweet Song
Once in the dear dead days beyond recall,
When on the world the mists began to fall,
Out of the dreams that rose in happy throng
Low to our hearts Love sung an old sweet song;
And in the dusk where fell the firelight gleam,
Softly it wove itself into our dream.
Just a song at twilight, when the lights are low,
And the flick'ring shadows softly come and go,
Tho' the heart be weary, sad the day and long,
Still to us at twilight comes Love's old song,
Comes Love's old sweet song.
Even today we hear Love's song of yore,
Deep in our hearts it dwells for evermore
Footsteps may falter, weary grow the way,
Still we can hear it at the close of day,
So till the end, when life's dim shadows fall,
Love will be found the sweetest song of all.
Just a song at twilight, when the lights are low,
And the flick'ring shadows softly come and go,
Tho' the heart be weary, sad the day and long,
Still to us at twilight comes Love's old song,
Comes Love's old sweet song.
poem by Clifton Bingham
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Marilyn Monroe's Photo In Yellow-gold
How many times I did see
how you stopped your dress
from blowing up,
for many probably a cliché
but still you stay to me
a lovely lady
where you now lie on a bed
with hair done yellow-gold,
with your right arm stretched above your head
with eyes half-open,
lips begging rose-red for a kiss
you can like a princess
do bewitching things
to any normal guy
and you look like a fairy-princess, a summer child.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Echoes From the Greek Mythology
I - STARLIGHT
With two bright eyes, my star, my love,
Thou lookest on the stars above:
Ah, would that I the heaven might be
With a million eyes to look on thee.
Plato.
II - ROSELEAF
A little while the rose,
And after that the thorn;
An hour of dewy morn,
And then the glamour goes.
Ah, love in beauty born,
A little while the rose!
Unknown.
III - PHOSPHOR -- HESPER
O morning star, farewell!
My love I now must leave;
The hours of day I slowly tell,
And turn to her with the twilight bell, --
O welcome, star of eve!
Meleager.
IV - SEASONS
Sweet in summer, cups of snow,
Cooling thirsty lips aglow;
Sweet to sailors winter-bound,
Spring arrives with garlands crowned;
Sweeter yet the hour that covers
With one cloak a pair of lovers,
Living lost in golden weather,
While they talk of love together.
Asclepiades.
V - THE VINE AND THE GOAT
Although you eat me to the root,
I yet shall bear enough of fruit
For wine to sprinkle your dim eyes,
When you are made a sacrifice.
Euenus.
VI - THE PROFESSOR
Seven pupils, in the class
Of Professor Callias,
Listen silent while he drawls, --
Three are benches, four are walls.
Unknown.
poem by Henry Van Dyke
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The Little Girl Lost
In futurity
I prophesy
That the earth from sleep
(Grave the sentence deep)
Shall arise, and seek
For her Maker meek;
And the desert wild
Become a garden mild.
In the southern clime,
Where the summer’s prime
Never fades away,
Lovely Lyca lay.
Seven summers old
Lovely Lyca told.
She had wandered long,
Hearing wild birds’ song.
‘Sweet sleep, come to me,
Underneath this tree;
Do father, mother, weep?
Where can Lyca sleep?
‘Lost in desert wild
Is your little child.
How can Lyca sleep
If her mother weep?
‘If her heart does ache,
Then let Lyca wake;
If my mother sleep,
Lyca shall not weep.
‘Frowning, frowning night,
O’er this desert bright
Let thy moon arise,
While I close my eyes.’
Sleeping Lyca lay,
While the beasts of prey,
Come from caverns deep,
Viewed the maid asleep.
The kingly lion stood,
And the virgin viewed:
Then he gambolled round
O’er the hallowed ground.
Leopards, tigers, play
Round her as she lay;
While the lion old
Bowed his mane of gold,
And her bosom lick,
And upon her neck,
From his eyes of flame,
Ruby tears there came;
While the lioness
Loosed her slender dress,
And naked they conveyed
To caves the sleeping maid.
poem by William Blake from Songs of Experience (1794)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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This Song, Same Song
Surprise
Reprise
Sunrise
Your eyes
Two eyes
Four eyes
Blue
Something
A thing
The thing
That thing
What thing
Our thing
Love
To do
Should do
How do
You do
Can do
Will do
Done
Forward
Toward
The ward
Awkward
Backward
Upward
Down
Sunlight
Moonlight
New light
Low light
Old light
No light
Sleep
No no
Yes no
I know
You know
Say no
Means no
Yes
Play card
In yard
Glass shard
Life marred
So hard
M'vis Bard
Band
This day
New day
Today
Good day
Someday
No day
Free
Our world
This world
Your world
His world
Her world
Whole world
Wide
This song
Same song
My song
Your song
A song
Our song
End
poem by David DeAngelo
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Twinkle
(kinky friedman)
Oh, I didnt write this song for fortunes made of money,
I only came along just to sing it to you, honey.
Ive dreamed around the bend, Ive looked behind the sky,
Ive seen the rainbows end in the twinkle of an eye.
And until the day our stars all arise
Twinkle, let me shine in your eyes.
In a window from afar it shines in just like a candle,
The shimmer like a star, its more than I can handle,
To hold you in the night, to show you what I told you,
To go down by candlelight, to light the world before you.
And until the day our stars all arise,
Twinkle, let me shine in your eyes.
And until the day our stars all arise,
Twinkle, let me shine in your eyes,
Twinkle, let me shine in your eyes,
Let me shine in your eyes.
song performed by by Kinky Friedman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Returning To Fairyland (Somewhere In Fantsayland)
As I gazed into the
distance. From out of
nowhere a tiny person
appeared. He called my
name over and over again.
Yaro, Yarro!
A name I remember from
childhood.
I was taken back to
another place in time.
To another love devine.
Days of laughter, romping
in the green meadows, lying
in his arms, kissing his
face so tenderly. Oh, face
of yesterday.
Suddenly this little fairy
took flight, landing on my
finger.Grabbed a hand full
of fairy dust, tossed it in
my eyes. I was temporarily
blinded.
As I opened my eyes, a garden
of beautiful roses appeared.
One rose more lovely than the
other. As I viewed the scene,
to my surprise, nestled in the
blossoms, sat the flowers of
my heart.My Red, white, pink,
yellow, and coral roses making
up my hearts bouquet.Waiting
for my return.
Sitting in the far distance,
I noticed a black rose, rare,
new and handsome. Could this
be my fairy man? The one I have
always searched for.
poem by Heather Burns
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lovely One
Lovely one,
Just as on the cool stone
Of the spring, the water
Opens a wide flash of foam,
So is the smile of your face,
Lovely one.
Lovely one,
With delicate hands and slender feet
Like a silver pony,
Walking, flower of the world,
Thus I see you,
Lovely one.
Lovely one,
With a nest of copper entangled
On your head, a nest
The coloUr of dark honey
Where my heart burns and rests,
Lovely one.
Lovely one,
Your eyes are too big for your face,
Your eyes are too big for the earth.
There are countries, there are rivers,
In your eyes,
My country is your eyes,
I walk through them,
They light the world
Through which I walk,
Lovely one.
Lovely one,
Your breasts are like two loaves made
Of grainy earth and golden moon,
Lovely one.
Lovely one,
Your waist,
My arm shaped it like a river when
It flowed a thousand years through your sweet body,
Lovely one.
Lovely one,
There is nothing like your hips,
Perhaps earth has
In some hidden place
The curve and the fragrance of your body,
Perhaps in some place,
Lovely one.
Lovely one, my lovely one,
Your voice, your skin, your nails,
Lovely one, my lovely one,
Your being, your light, your shadow,
Lovely one,
All that is mine, lovely one,
All that is mine, my dear,
When you walk or rest,
When you sing or sleep,
When you suffer or dream,
Always,
When you are near or far,
Always,
You are mine, my lovely one,
Always.
poem by Pablo Neruda
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One Face
One face in a crowd is hard to find.
One face in that crowd is on my mind.
How can I find the face of one,
The face that to me is like the sun?
Shiny and bright with a radiant glow,
The face that picks me up when I'm low,
Eyes that light up wherever they are
Just like the splendor of an evening star,
Lips that break into the sweetest smile
That lingers for me for the longest while,
Hair that surrounds that face like a frame
That always sets my heart aflame.
I search all the faces but cannot see
The one that means the world to me.
I'm lost. I'm wretched. This should not be.
There are too many faces. I'm lost at sea.
One last glance and to my surprise
There's your face, your smile, your eyes.
The crowd's still there but not for me.
For the face I love is all I see.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Couleur de Rose
All things to-day 'Couleur de rose,'
I see,-oh, why?
I know, and my dear love she knows,
Why, oh, why!
On both my eyes her lips she set,
All red and warm and dewy wet,
As she passed by.
The kiss did not my eyelids close,
But like a rosy vapor goes,
Where'er I sit, where'er I lie,
Before my every glance, and shows
All things to-day 'Couleur de rose.'
Would it last thus? Alas, who knows?
Men ask and sigh:
They say it fades, 'Couleur de rose.'
Why, oh, why?
Without swift joy and sweet surprise,
Surely those lips upon my eyes
Could never lie,
Though both our heads were white as snows,
And though the bitterest storm that blows,
Of trouble and adversity,
Had bent us low: all life still shows
To eyes that love 'Couleur de rose.'
poem by Helen Hunt Jackson
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When
When the last sparkle has left the final star,
When the last rock has turned to sand,
I will still have a vision of you and I,
As we walk hand in hand.
When the last minutes of the eleventh hour fade away,
When the last ray comes from the sun,
I will have remembrance of songs we sang,
I'll remember when we became one.
When the last juice comes from the last grape,
When the last cloud comes gently across the sky,
I'll see your golden hair,
I'll still be lost in the deep blue of your eyes.
When the last petal drifts from the last rose,
When the last note of the last song fades,
I'll be listening for the sound of your voice,
You'll still surprise me with your love in all its shades.
R K Hart 2012
Its A B'day Of A Fairy....(1) ....
it's a b'day of a fairy lets sing a song,
you'd gotta do it hurry since the party's on,
everybody celebrating mood is on song...
it's a b'day of a fairy lets sing a song..
she is so pretty she makes me went wrong..
her eyes are so deep, i fallen million time in this pond..
whatever she wishes comes live for her along..
it's a b'day of a fairy lets sing a song....
poem by Arpit Kulshrestha
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a Forget me not
I see a young girl
with auburn hair
and ink blue eyes
picking petals from a yellow flower
as if she’s counting them
one by one
and her lips form
the words
you love me,
you love me not.
Her face is lovely
and sweet
and she’s tanned
by the summer
and slender like a reed
and there are no shoes
on her feet.
She smiles at me
and puts red rose blossoms
in a big heavy book
and closes it tenderly
and press down on it
and I wonder to whom
she is going to send
a forget me not
as if any young lad
would be able to forget her.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Pleasant to admire
My dear Honey!
Upon you, your radiant eyes,
Sharp nose, pouty lips,
Pointed chin and raised cheeks,
I focused my look.
You were illuminated,
But I was shaded,
‘Cause beams of light
Never illuminates the part
They arise from.
My dear Honey!
Into you, your hidden ear,
Slender neck, beating heart,
Throbbing lungs and tender ribs,
I shall sing a song.
It will resonate in you,
But won’t deafen me
‘Cause waves of sound
Would vibrate the parts
They arise from.
28.08.97
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Clair de Lune
In the moonlit room your face,
Moonlight-coloured, fainting white,
And the silence of the place
Round about us in the night,
And my arms are round about you
In the silence of the night.
Lips that are not mine to kiss,
Lips how often kissed in vain,
Broken seal of memories,
Where the kisses come again
That the lips of all your lovers
Laid upon your lips in vain;
Eyes that are not mine to keep
In the mirror of mine eyes,
Where I tremble lest from sleep
Other ghosts should re-arise;
Why enthrall me with your magic,
Haunting lips, triumphant eyes?
For the silence of the night
Swims around me like a stream,
And your eyes have caught the light
Of a moon-enchanted dream,
And your arms glide round about me,
And I fade into a dream.
poem by Arthur Symons
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I see a day withering in the west
I see a day withering in the west
and although it is past
I am truly blessed
and wonder if a day as this
will ever come along again?
Your eyes are bright in the twilight
and your smile more brilliant
than the stars in the sky
and the beauty and wonder in your eyes
hit deep into my heart.
When our lips meet
it is not to greet and the passion
flows strong, much stronger
than I remember
and suddenly I know
that every day with you
I will be truly blessed
and if destiny was at my behest
I would want to have you with me
long past eternity.
poem by Gert Strydom
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A child's Suffering
The intense flame of withering blooms,
In deep essence of those in tombs.
A child like figure in darkness's shadow,
As his eyes as yellow as cat's eyes glow.
Death takes him home into the deep,
to a never ending painful sleep.
The child's voice heard through my dreams,
His voice so painful as he screams.
Why an innocent child has to suffer,
no child deserves this life so hard and so much rougher.
But the father's disgrace chose the child's path,
Taking the child into a blood bath,
the child cries as the burning goes on,
Forever from dusk to dawn.
poem by Krystle Kyriakou
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Woman And The Weed
(FOUNDED ON A NEW ZEALAND MYTH.)
In the Morning of Time, when his fortunes began,
How bleak, how un-Greek, was the Nature of Man!
From his wigwam, if ever he ventured to roam,
There was nobody waiting to welcome him home;
For the Man had been made, but the woman had NOT,
And Earth was a highly detestable spot.
Man hated his neighbours; they met and they scowled,
They did not converse but they struggled and howled,
For Man had no tact--he would ne'er take a hint,
And his notions he backed with a hatchet of flint.
So Man was alone, and he wished he could see
On the Earth some one like him, but fairer than he,
With locks like the red gold, a smile like the sun,
To welcome him back when his hunting was done.
And he sighed for a voice that should answer him still,
Like the affable Echo he heard on the hill:
That should answer him softly and always agree,
AND OH, Man reflected, HOW NICE IT WOULD BE!
So he prayed to the Gods, and they stooped to his prayer,
And they spoke to the Sun on his way through the air,
And he married the Echo one fortunate morn,
And Woman, their beautiful daughter, was born!
The daughter of Sunshine and Echo she came
With a voice like a song, with a face like a flame;
With a face like a flame, and a voice like a song,
And happy was Man, but it was not for long!
For weather's a painfully changeable thing,
Not always the child of the Echo would sing;
And the face of the Sun may be hidden with mist,
And his child can be terribly cross if she list.
And unfortunate Man had to learn with surprise
That a frown's not peculiar to masculine eyes;
That the sweetest of voices can scold and can sneer,
And cannot be answered--like men--with a spear.
So Man went and called to the Gods in his woe,
And they answered him--'Sir, you would needs have it so:
And the thing must go on as the thing has begun,
She's immortal--your child of the Echo and Sun.
But we'll send you another, and fairer is she,
This maiden with locks that are flowing and free.
This maiden so gentle, so kind, and so fair,
With a flower like a star in the night of her hair.
With her eyes like the smoke that is misty and blue,
With her heart that is heavenly, and tender, and true.
She will die in the night, but no need you should mourn,
You shall bury her body and thence shall be born
A weed that is green, that is fragrant and fair,
With a flower like the star in the night of her hair.
And the leaves must ye burn till they offer to you
Soft smoke, like her eyes that are misty and blue.
'And the smoke shall ye breathe and no more shall ye fret,
But the child of the Echo and Sun shall forget:
Shall forget all the trouble and torment she brings,
Shall bethink ye of none but delectable things;
And the sound of the wars with your brethren shall cease,
While ye smoke by the camp-fire the great pipe of peace.'
So the last state of Man was by no means the worst,
The second gift softened the sting of the first.
Nor the child of the Echo and Sun doth he heed
When he dreams with the Maid that was changed to the weed;
Though the Echo be silent, the Sun in a mist,
The Maid is the fairest that ever was kissed.
And when tempests are over and ended the rain,
And the child of the Sunshine is sunny again,
He comes back, glad at heart, and again is at one
With the changeable child of the Echo and Sun.
poem by Andrew Lang
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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