The Haunted Chamber. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The Third)
Each heart has its haunted chamber,
Where the silent moonlight falls!
On the floor are mysterious footsteps,
There are whispers along the walls!
And mine at times is haunted
By phantoms of the Past
As motionless as shadows
By the silent moonlight cast.
A form sits by the window,
That is not seen by day,
For as soon as the dawn approaches
It vanishes away.
It sits there in the moonlight
Itself as pale and still,
And points with its airy finger
Across the window-sill.
Without before the window,
There stands a gloomy pine,
Whose boughs wave upward and downward
As wave these thoughts of mine.
And underneath its branches
Is the grave of a little child,
Who died upon life's threshold,
And never wept nor smiled.
What are ye, O pallid phantoms!
That haunt my troubled brain?
That vanish when day approaches,
And at night return again?
What are ye, O pallid phantoms!
But the statues without breath,
That stand on the bridge overarching
The silent river of death?
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Related quotes
Moonlight river.
moonlight river the eyes are shineing bright.
moonlight river love her with all you might.
moonlight river the darkness is falling.
moonligh river is there such thing off morning.
moonlight river makes my head sway.
moonlight river voice off the ocean on a sand beach bay.
moonlight river i think off her night and day.
moonlight river bring her back to me today.
moonlight river the star's are shineing bright.
moonlight river she is back with such delight.
moonlight river never let her go.
moonlight river tell her i love her so.
moolight river tear's in her eye.
moonlight river why did i have to die.
poem by Neil Derek Singleton
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Broken Heart
The leaves rustled
In the cold breeze
Around the stillness
Of the old Haunted House
The moonlight shone down
Sending strays of shadows
Upon the ground
The silent footsteps
Of the distant past
Echoed through the night
And as I glanced up
At the shattered windows
There was a luminous
Pale light reflecting
Off the glass
Blinking once
Blinking twice
It just vanished
From my sight
I have heard story's of old
Of a long lost soul
Who awaits for
Her one true love
The story goes
Of a young girl blind
Raised in the house of old
And she meets
A boy who taught her love
And they vowed to be
Together as one
But a war was at hand
And a letter did come
Stating he must defend
His homeland
So with a heavy heart
He vowed to return
As soon as the
War was done
The day came around
When in uniform he wore
To give a token
To his one true love
He held in his hand
Two pieces of gold
Of a heart broken in two
This piece is mine
And this piece is yours
Once returned
Will be together as one
So softly he kissed
Upon her lips
A found farewell
To true love
So there she sat
Day after day
Waiting for lost
Love to return
But alas he died
In a foreign land
And grasped in his hand
Was his piece of gold?
That they pried from his hand
To send to his loved ones at home
But alas it never reached home
Upon the news
Of the young mans death
She cried in vain and clasps to her chest
The pendant of gold still around her neck
And dies of broken heart in two
Tears of sorrow
Cascade down my cheeks
And glancing up
At the old haunted house
I see her face
Glisten with tears
As she sits
And waits for
Her one true love
To return safely home
To her arms
Shaking my head
I move away in pain
When will this haunting
Ever end
poem by Kaila George
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Phantoms Of Death
There are phantoms here on earth who take away our lives
They kill your kids and they rape your wives
They rip your flesh tear your heart take you down to hell
They dont give a damn on any kind of life
Phantoms bring evil, destruction and death
Night after night the same old game
They all look so harmless but deep in their hearts
Satan is lurking, and he will break out
Always someone at your back only waiting to attack
Chorus phantoms of death, phantoms of death
The empire of deceivers is built upon your fear
Youll have to lose it cause the end is near
Warheads, armies stand to strike I know it isnt right
I wanna get out of here I dont wanna die
Infernal destruction of fire youll burn
Then youll be helpless but its not too late
Stand up right now and youll be the winner
Or satan will get you, take you forever
Genocide everywhere, wheres the saviour of this world
Chorus phantoms of death, phantoms of death
Where is he the promised saviour the one wholl save the earth
Perhaps hell come to bury us but then itll be too late
Who are they who are the phantoms who will end our lives
Its you and me, you and me open up your eyes
Phantoms bring evil, destruction and death
Night after night the same old game
They all look so harmless but deep in their hearts
Satan is lurking, and he will break out
We are all parasites of this world we shall die
Chorus phantoms of death, phantoms of death
song performed by by Helloween
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Moon Dreams
My dream is moonlight
dancing on a quiet breeze
of secrets grinning.
~ ~ ~
The sky spills out its
moon is full and hovers while
new light is swimming.
~ ~ ~
Slivers of moonlight
etch the surface of my mind
like diamonds on glass.
~ ~ ~
The moon outside my
window whispers moonlit dreams
of a silent wind.
~ ~ ~
Silence slips through a
Milky Way smile on a cruise
that sails to the moon.
poem by Rick Stokes
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A Little Ghost
The moonlight flutters from the sky
To meet her at the door,
A little ghost, whose steps have passed
Across the creaking floor.
And rustling vines that lightly tap
Against the window-pane,
Throw shadows on the white-washed walls
To blot them out again.
The moonlight leads her as she goes
Across a narrow plain,
By all the old, familiar ways
That know her steps again.
And through the scrub it leads her on
And brings her to the creek,
But by the broken dam she stops
And seems as she would speak.
She moves her lips, but not a sound
Ripples the silent air;
She wrings her little hands, ah, me!
The sadness of despair!
While overhead the black-duck's wing
Cuts like a flash upon
The startled air, that scarcely shrinks
Ere he afar is gone.
And curlews wake, and wailing cry
Cur-lew! cur-lew! cur-lew!
Till all the Bush, with nameless dread
Is pulsing through and through.
The moonlight leads her back again
And leaves her at the door,
A little ghost whose steps have passed
Across the creaking floor.
poem by Dame Mary Gilmore
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The Night Is A Good Listener
The night is a good listener
How I wonder how huge its ears are,
How deep its patience in the silence
Of an ocean floor, how wide its embrace,
Like a cool thick forest, like a coiling river,
As though time does not even exist,
The night is listening to me
Intently, like I were her only son,
Because the rest of her servants and mistresses
Are all asleep,
She is so silent, in tiptoes, in a hush,
This night, I can hear how the ants crawl for crumbs,
How the lizards run and play & catch its prey on the ceiling,
How the prey on the other hand, struggles to escape,
How the air gushes on the window pane,
How the whispers of my heart sound like
Some dews dropping on some soft green blades of grass,
Indeed night is so patient, so ever silent,
Though sleepy, it gazes in me, trying to
Understand what all these silent conversation is all about,
The night understands, lip-reading my thoughts,
Listening intently, the night sits, and
Now, signals for an embrace, with arms and heart wide open
Some of her tears are starting to fall.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Time of My Life
Come back to those days
of tomorrowland
I had the time of my life
When you haunted me through
You took over my soul
I had the time of my life
With you
I got that feeling
Nothing can stop us now
Fighting for my life,
I had the time of my life
Cause I was with you
Wish you had noticed
before the dragons swarmed in
Separating us
forever and ever
The window closed, I'm haunted
By you, by the days of September
When I was haunted by a life
that no one remembers
A life, a dream, a memory
I lay and think at night
A life, a scream, a heart
that no one remembers
He died with me, the window
Closed on everything we had
And I wouldn't share
You have a way of forgetting
everything we had
All those people, happy people
without a care in the world
I had the time of my life
Screaming for your life
Buried in the sand that day,
I can't go back, I had the best time
With you
The window closed, I'm haunted
Haunted
See! He trails his toes
Through the long streaks of moonlight,
And the nails of his fingers glitter:
They claw and flash among the tree-tops.
His lips suck at my open window,
And his breath creeps about my body
And lies in pools under my knees.
I can see his mouth sway and wobble,
Sticking itself against the window-jambs,
But the moonlight is bright on the floor,
Without a shadow.
Hark! a hare is strangling in the forest,
And the wind tears a shutter from the wall.
poem by Amy Lowell
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Haunted Hollow
The hollow is a group of trees,
whose branches intertwine to form an arch.
A column of noble trees,
standing tall and erect.
However the hallow is haunted,
by ghostly lovers who died there,
on one stormy night,
walking arm in arm
underneath a cloudy moonlight.
Now when the north wind blows,
and clouds drift across the moon.
You can see the ghostly lovers
in the shadows of the hallow,
where they walk for eternity,
linked arm in arm.
Their love has lived beyond the grave,
for everyone to see.
Two ghostly lovers
simply called you and me.
poem by David Harris
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Always Watching
Dark as the secrets
You hold in your heart
Stealthy as the night
Which silently departs
Haunted as the woods
To which no one goes
Swift as the river
Which downward flows
From the mountains to valleys
Through ancient hills
To an abandoned castle
Where on the window sills
Sits the bird of legend
Of luckless souls
The raven, unmoving
In his sentry's role
poem by Shadow Alliance
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Kiss Of The Winter Moon
Darkness heals the wounds
that daylight laughter laid open.
Confess your secret dreams
before the audience of the moon.
To the silent night,
to the falling snow,
to the flickering star.
Embraced by shadows,
that feel what you feel,
that are what you are,
that dream what you dream.
The open winter window,
frames her featureless dark face,
betrayed by wisps of frosted breath,
and twinkling tears,
on frozen cheeks.
Soft...silent shadows,
caress her,
in a cloak,
of cold..
quiet..
snow.
a shiver,
a fallen tear,
becomes…
a snowflake.
Moonlight is forgiveness,
and kisses the face,
that is laughed at,
by the sun.
poem by George Vuyakovich
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Silent
Silent when I have nothing to say.
Silent just to avoid the fray.
Silent when I am not sure.
Silent—I can't stand anymore.
Silent when you make me mad.
Silent I am when times are sad.
Silent when I am too shy.
Silent when I want to cry.
Silent as I carry life's load.
Silent... I may soon explode.
poem by Shaqueena Celestin
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My Walking Thoughts
In my long search for what my hearts longs for,
The wind did saw me and my agony,
Flooded with tears of something not found,
In this incompletion of my life,
So shall my heart look to the stars,
The hope that nature will do wonders,
My walking thoughts keep the search
Im haunted by the memories every night,
My sheets become so cold,
In that shivering moment Im at unrest,
Outside the window are unusual winds,
I know where im at peace,
My thoughts searched and found none,
Walking and walking, remain my thoughts
Walking up and down are my thoughts,
So unfocused like the phantoms,
Searching your presence my love,
Which I know is ever absent
My despair extends my pain,
My walking thoughts so futile,
Searching but to no avail,
Such is my love, seeking yours
poem by Gaylord Munemo
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In the Moonlight
An army of vermin, mice, rats
Romps in the hallway which shimmers in the moonlight.
The wind cries out as if in dream and whimpers.
At the window the shadows of small leaves quiver.
Occasionally birds twitter in the branches
And spiders creep on the bleak walls.
Through empty ways pale specks shudder.
A quaint silence dwells in the house.
In the courtyard lights seem to float
On putrid wood, decayed junk.
Then a star glistens in a black pool.
Statues still stand there from old times.
One still sees contours from other things
And a writing, faded on rotten signs,
Also perhaps the colors of cheerful pictures:
Angels singing before Mary's throne.
poem by Georg Trakl
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Tis moonlight, summer moonlight
'Tis moonlight, summer moonlight,
All soft and still and fair;
The solemn hour of midnight
Breathes sweet thoughts everywhere,
But most where trees are sending
Their breezy boughs on high,
Or stooping low are lending
A shelter from the sky.
And there in those wild bowers
A lovely form is laid;
Green grass and dew-steeped flowers
Wave gently round her head.
poem by Emily Jane Brontë
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Moonlight, summer moonlight
'Tis moonlight, summer moonlight,
All soft and still and fair;
The solemn hour of midnight
Breathes sweet thoughts everywhere,
But most where trees are sending
Their breezy boughs on high,
Or stooping low are lending
A shelter from the sky.
And there in those wild bowers
A lovely form is laid;
Green grass and dew-steeped flowers
Wave gently round her head.
poem by Emily Jane Brontë
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Shadows Of The Moonlight
In the shadows of the moonlight,
I come to you my dear,
as the chorus of the night
sings out loves sweet lullaby.
In the shadows of the moonlight,
I feel the warmth of passion
as the mist moonlight
extends a twinkle to your eyes.
In the shadows of the moonlight,
I seal loves contentment
with lingering kisses
that brighten the sparkle in your eyes.
In the shadows of the moonlight,
your image will remain
locked in my memory
until once more we meet again.
7 May 2010
poem by David Harris
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Moonlight Swim
(words & music by sylvia dee- ben weisman)
Lets go on a moonlight swim
Far away from the crowd
All alone upon the beach
Our lips and our arms
Close within each others reach
Will be on a moonlight swim
Lets go on a moonlight swim
To the raft we can race
After just a little while
Ill sit and pretend
That youre on a desert isle
With me on a moonlight swim
Though the air is cold
With kisses oh so sweet
Ill keep you warm
So very warm from head to you feet
Lets go on a moonlight swim
Were in love and above
Theres a crazy balloon
That sits winking down
And inviting us to come on in
On a moonlight swim
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Window
All night long, by a distant bell,
The passing hours were notched
On the dark, while her breathing rose and fell,
And the spark of life I watched
In her face was glowing or fading, -- who could tell? --
And the open window of the room,
With a flare of yellow light,
Was peering out into the gloom,
Like an eye that searched the night.
Oh, what do you see in the dark, little window, and why do you fear?
"I see that the garden is crowded with creeping forms of fear:
Little white ghosts in the locust-tree, that wave in the night-wind's breath,
And low in the leafy laurels the larking shadow of death."
Sweet, clear notes of a waking bird
Told of the passing away
Of the dark, -- and my darling may have heard;
For she smiled in her sleep, while the ray
Of the rising dawn spoke joy without a word,
Till the splendor born in the east outburned
The yellow lamplight, pale and thin,
And the open window slowly turned
To the eye of the morning, looking in.
Oh, what do you see in the room, little window, that makes you so bright?
"I see that a child is asleep on her pillow, soft and white,
With the rose of life on her tips, and the breath of life in her breast,
And the arms of God around her as she quietly takes her rest."
poem by Henry Van Dyke
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Haunted By Their Own Misdeeds
One should never base their opinion given,
Received from another...
To judge someone else with purposes to defame.
The outcome to them delivered by such actions...
May not return the same to shame.
However...
The chances that the consequences faced,
Seldom embraces them to favor.
Since most people are often haunted,
By their own misdeeds.
Squeezing from their minds,
A comforting of rational sensibilities.
Left to themselves they are.
And abandoned.
To convalesce on their own alone.
And a wish to sleep peacefully at night,
Is rare.
As unfamiliar sounds come to creep in the silent air.
'Who's there? '
They are haunted by their misdeeds.
'I can hear your footsteps.'
They are haunted by their misdeeds.
'Slowly...as a stalking panther,
I can hear you coming up the stairs.'
They are haunted by their misdeeds.
And when the dawn comes to find them shaking,
Crotched in the corners to hide from darkened shadows...
Lifted.
It is soon discovered,
A door thought locked and bolted had been left open.
Leaving them to wonder...
How many visits like this will be repeated?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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