College love lost
She came to the class of physics
And sat by a tall white pillar never alone
An angle watching the board of elongated equations with no lyrics
I sat few rows behind her carved with stone
And once, but once she turned lifting her eyes
And suddenly, sweetly, strangely blushed
To find they were met by my own
And suddenly, sweetly strangely my heart beat stronger
My blood throbbed thicker until I heard no longer
The Thermo dynamic transformations laws
I was long gone under a pensive dream, an utterly estranged show
The bell’s ring pealed up the vaulted hall
What untimely abrupt call
I stood up on my feet stunned like a child
Would she remember it the passionate dual of our eyes’ meet
Ah well, very well, I might have been beguiled
By some coquettish deceit
Yet if she were not a cheat
If she were all that she seemed
And her smile had all that I dreamed
Then the world were not so shakily bitter
And her gracious smile would have sunken on me so much sweeter
What vile winds had scudded away the war
Of roses and daisies at her garden door
As she fled fast through sun and shade
The happy pine trees winds upon her played
Blowing the ringlet from the braid
She looked so lovely as she swayed
I stood watching her a man in his pride
Or a puppet on a string
The rein with dainty finger-tips
A man who would give all other bliss
And all his worldly worthy for this
To waste his whole heart in one kiss
Upon her perfect lips
copy rights 2010
Related quotes
Sir Launcelot and Queen Guinevere
LIKE souls that balance joy and pain,
With tears and smiles from heaven again
The maiden Spring upon the plain
Came in a sun-lit fall of rain.
In crystal vapour everywhere
Blue isles of heaven laugh'd between,
And far, in forest-deeps unseen,
The topmost elm-tree gather'd green
From draughts of balmy air.
Sometimes the linnet piped his song:
Sometimes the throstle whistled strong:
Sometimes the sparhawk, wheel'd along,
Hush'd all the groves from fear of wrong:
By grassy capes with fuller sound
In curves the yellowing river ran,
And drooping chestnut-buds began
To spread into the perfect fan,
Above the teeming ground.
Then, in the boyhood of the year,
Sir Launcelot and Queen Guinevere
Rode thro' the coverts of the deer,
With blissful treble ringing clear.
She seem'd a part of joyous Spring:
A gown of grass-green silk she wore,
Buckled with golden clasps before;
A light-green tuft of plumes she bore
Closed in a golden ring.
Now on some twisted ivy-net,
Now by some tinkling rivulet,
In mosses mixt with violet
Her cream-white mule his pastern set:
And fleeter now she skimm'd the plains
Than she whose elfin prancer springs
By night to eery warblings,
When all the glimmering moorland rings
With jingling bridle-reins.
As she fled fast thro' sun and shade,
The happy winds upon her play'd,
Blowing the ringlet from the braid:
She look'd so lovely, as she sway'd
The rein with dainty finger-tips,
A man had given all other bliss,
And all his worldly worth for this,
To waste his whole heart in one kiss
Upon her perfect lips.
poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Entangled
I STOOD as one enchanted,
All in the forest deep:
As one that wond'ring wanders,
Dream-bound within his sleep.
A thousand rustling footsteps
Pattered upon the ground;
A thousand whisp'ring voices
Made the wide silence, sound.
Some murmured deep and deeper,
Like waves in solemn seas;
Some breathèd sweet and sweeter,
Like elves on moon-lit leas.
Tall ferns, washed down in sunlight,
Beckoned with fingers green;
Tall flowers nodded strangely,
With white and glimm'ring sheen;
They sighed, they sang so softly,
They stretched their arms to me;
My heart, it throbbed so wildly,
In weird tumultuous glee.
I staggered in the mosses,
It seemed to drag me down
Into the gleaming bushes;
To fall, to sink, to drown.
When lo! thro' scared foliage,
A lovely bird did fly;
And looked at me so knowing,
With bright and curious eye;
It broke out into warbles,
And singing sped away;
But I, like one awakened,
Fled down the mossy way.
poem by Mathilde Blind
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Margaret's Bridal Eve
I
The old grey mother she thrummed on her knee:
There is a rose that's ready;
And which of the handsome young men shall it be?
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
My daughter, come hither, come hither to me:
There is a rose that's ready;
Come, point me your finger on him that you see:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
O mother, my mother, it never can be:
There is a rose that's ready;
For I shall bring shame on the man marries me:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
Now let your tongue be deep as the sea:
There is a rose that's ready;
And the man'll jump for you, right briskly will he:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
Tall Margaret wept bitterly:
There is a rose that's ready;
And as her parent bade did she:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
O the handsome young man dropped down on his knee:
There is a rose that's ready;
Pale Margaret gave him her hand, woe's me!
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
II
O mother, my mother, this thing I must say:
There is a rose in the garden;
Ere he lies on the breast where that other lay:
And the bird sings over the roses.
Now, folly, my daughter, for men are men:
There is a rose in the garden;
You marry them blindfold, I tell you again:
And the bird sings over the roses.
O mother, but when he kisses me!
There is a rose in the garden;
My child, 'tis which shall sweetest be!
And the bird sings over the roses.
O mother, but when I awake in the morn!
There is a rose in the garden;
My child, you are his, and the ring is worn:
And the bird sings over the roses.
Tall Margaret sighed and loosened a tress:
There is a rose in the garden;
Poor comfort she had of her comeliness
And the bird sings over the roses.
My mother will sink if this thing be said:
There is a rose in the garden;
That my first betrothed came thrice to my bed;
And the bird sings over the roses.
He died on my shoulder the third cold night:
There is a rose in the garden;
I dragged his body all through the moonlight:
And the bird sings over the roses.
But when I came by my father's door:
There is a rose in the garden;
I fell in a lump on the stiff dead floor:
And the bird sings over the roses.
O neither to heaven, nor yet to hell:
There is a rose in the garden;
Could I follow the lover I loved so well!
And the bird sings over the roses.
III
The bridesmaids slept in their chambers apart:
There is a rose that's ready;
Tall Margaret walked with her thumping heart:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
The frill of her nightgown below the left breast:
There is a rose that's ready;
Had fall'n like a cloud of the moonlighted West:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
But where the West-cloud breaks to a star:
There is a rose that's ready;
Pale Margaret's breast showed a winding scar:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
O few are the brides with such a sign!
There is a rose that's ready;
Though I went mad the fault was mine:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
I must speak to him under this roof to-night:
There is a rose that's ready;
I shall burn to death if I speak in the light:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
O my breast! I must strike you a bloodier wound:
There is a rose that's ready;
Than when I scored you red and swooned:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
I will stab my honour under his eye:
There is a rose that's ready;
Though I bleed to the death, I shall let out the lie:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
O happy my bridesmaids! white sleep is with you!
There is a rose that's ready;
Had he chosen among you he might sleep too!
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
O happy my bridesmaids! your breasts are clean:
There is a rose that's ready;
You carry no mark of what has been!
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
IV
An hour before the chilly beam:
Red rose and white in the garden;
The bridegroom started out of a dream:
And the bird sings over the roses.
He went to the door, and there espied:
Red rose and white in the garden;
The figure of his silent bride:
And the bird sings over the roses.
He went to the door, and let her in:
Red rose and white in the garden;
Whiter looked she than a child of sin:
And the bird sings over the roses.
She looked so white, she looked so sweet:
Red rose and white in the garden;
She looked so pure he fell at her feet:
And the bird sings over the roses.
He fell at her feet with love and awe:
Red rose and white in the garden;
A stainless body of light he saw:
And the bird sings over the roses.
O Margaret, say you are not of the dead!
Red rose and white in the garden;
My bride! by the angels at night are you led?
And the bird sings over the roses.
I am not led by the angels about:
Red rose and white in the garden;
But I have a devil within to let out:
And the bird sings over the roses.
O Margaret! my bride and saint!
Red rose and white in the garden;
There is on you no earthly taint:
And the bird sings over the roses.
I am no saint, and no bride can I be:
Red rose and while in the garden;
Until I have opened my bosom to thee:
And the bird sings over the roses.
To catch at her heart she laid one hand:
Red rose and white in the garden;
She told the tale where she did stand:
And the bird sings over the roses.
She stood before him pale and tall:
Red rose and white in the garden;
Her eyes between his, she told him all:
And the bird sings over the roses.
She saw how her body grow freckled and foul:
Red rose and white in the garden;
She heard from the woods the hooting owl:
And the bird sings over the roses.
With never a quiver her mouth did speak:
Red rose and white in the garden;
O when she had done she stood so meek!
And the bird sings over the roses.
The bridegroom stamped and called her vile:
Red rose and white in the garden;
He did but waken a little smile:
And the bird sings over the roses.
The bridegroom raged and called her foul:
Red rose and white in the garden;
She heard from the woods the hooting owl:
And the bird sings over the roses.
He muttered a name full bitter and sore:
Red rose and white in the garden;
She fell in a lump on the still dead floor:
And the bird sings over the roses.
O great was the wonder, and loud the wail:
Red rose and white in the garden;
When through the household flew the tale:
And the bird sings over the roses.
The old grey mother she dressed the bier:
Red rose and white in the garden;
With a shivering chin and never a tear:
And the bird sings over the roses.
O had you but done as I bade you, my child!
Red rose and white in the garden;
You would not have died and been reviled:
And the bird sings over the roses.
The bridegroom he hung at midnight by the bier:
Red rose and white in the garden;
He eyed the white girl thro' a dazzling tear:
And the bird sings over the roses.
O had you been false as the women who stray:
Red rose and white in the garden;
You would not be now with the Angels of Day!
And the bird sings over the roses.
poem by George Meredith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Drummer Boy
A drummer boy dressed in white tapped his drum as he passed by my bed,
he never looked at me, and not a word was said.
Tippy tap drum, tippy tap drum, tippy tap drum, was his marching beat.
There was blood from a wound, but he kept to his feet.
As he marched back and forth it looked as though he was going to fall,
but he continued to beat his drum, as he walked through the wall.
On his departure the sound of a bugle was heard above the drum,
whistling rifle shots and cannon fire added to the battle’s hum.
A boy dressed in red and white, blowing a bugle marched passed my bed,
he had suffered a wound, and blood was flowing from his head.
Blowing with all his might I could see the determination on his face,
he seemed to be running out of breath, as he slowly lost the pace.
The drummer boy came up beside him and marched by his side,
the bugle boy stood up straight, and blew the charge as he cried.
Another drummer boy passed my bed followed by two more,
the bugle boy stood and looked ahead, and then fell to the floor.
Several soldiers charged pass, with bayonets fixed for attack,
passing the drummer boy one yelled, “Keep playing and don’t look back.”
With the sound of bullets in the air and shells exploding all around
soldiers charged and fell by my bed to the now distant drumming sound.
It suddenly all went quiet as everyone disappeared through the wall,
except for the drummer boy who played as he stood tall.
Tippy tap drum, tippy tap drum, tippy tap drum; a much softer beat,
he then looked at me with tears in his eyes, as he faded at my feet.
poem by Orlando Belo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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College heart aches
Morning glooms emerged stormy and waning pale
No light no sun but a wannish glare
In layers upon layers the gray clouds summons converged
And the budded peaks of the wood are dump cold congealed
Caught and cuffed by the cools gale
I had fancied it would be a spring day fair
As I flung myself down a craggy slope
Of bushes and outcrops
Ever muttered and madden and ever waned with despair
To attend a class of no slight interest or share
Whom but her should I meet
I the morning glooms when sunrise like sunset sank
In the blossomed gable-ends
At the head of the college street
Whom but her should I meet
And she touched me with a smile so sweet
That dwelt merely at the corner of her eyes
During which she kept her lovely lips tight
She made me divine amends
For a courtesy not returned
And as she passed me so suddenly and so swiftly
She left me with a delicate spark
Of glowing gnawing growing light
Through the long elongated lectures of the day
And the long live hours of the dark
Which kept itself warm in the core of my dreams
Ready to burst in a colored flame
Till at last the next morning came
In a cloud, it faded and seemed
But an ashen – grey delight
As gloom as that morning was
What if with her sunny hair
And smile as sunny as cold
She meant to weave me a snare
Of some coquettish deceit
Delilah like trick old
To beguile me and entangled me when we met
As a spider has its prey in a silken net
And fawn at the victor’s feet
To assume me just one of many at her treat
One of unanimous many who just written
One frivolous line in her book
Yet, if she were not a mirage or a cheat
If she were all that she seemed
And her divine face and beguiling smile were all that I dreamed
Then the world were not turn so bitter
And her smile like thousands suns would put it sweeter
Ah, a coal black raven ever croaks at a pine tree top
Keep a watch and ward on surge of overwhelming feelings at the back yard
Of one’s heart or you will prove their tool
Myself from myself I must guard
Beware the ways of man often his own angry vain pride trap
Is cap and bells for a fool
Yet sick, sick I am of jealous dread
That day and night plagued my head
I was walking less than a mile
More than a mile from my dormant door
Between the faint Carmel cloud and the moor
And treading the craggy landscape at the set long lectured day
Over the dark slanting moor land
Rapidly walking far a way
She acknowledged me with half hand
And there was another at her side
The new made suitor
A vainly appearing looker
Something flashed in the sun
And down the hill I saw them dodging
In a moment they were gone
Like a sudden swift spark
Struck vainly in the night
Then returned the dark
With no more hope of light
Left in dark silence alone
The curtains on the painful scenery drawn
Stand dam to the torrents of torture
The is being with them blotter
O let the solid ground
Not fail beneath my feet
Let my fragile form hold
The ripples of pain on my body enfold
Yet, silence around, what a beautiful voice
Be still and trouble my mind
With joy in which I cannot rejoice
On a glory I shall never find
Still I will hear her no more
For her sweetness hardly leaves me a choice
But to wander in vast fields and fall before
Her feet’s own trucks on the meadow’s grass
And adore not her, who is neither courtly nor kind
But her galloping phantom upon lea and lawn
Once, only once I approached her
Oh catch not my breath clamorous heart
I begged and plead in pitiful obsequiousness
Let not my tongue your own servant
Be a thrall to my eye
For I must tell her before she part
I must tell her or die
With the strange unfamiliar voice that struggled
Up my throat I asked her and she let me
I had lead her a part way, my love, my only friend
So swiftly the convey took over my mind
There was none like her, none
And never yet so warmly ran my blood
And sweetly on and on
Calming itself to the long wishes for end
Full to the banks close on the wishful
For in calm times in peaceful memories
The road still led to her
The chained heart always rebel back to her
None like her, none
We spoke as two long time acquaintances
As she paced her light legs along the gravel walk
And it shook my heart to think what luck pebbles
Just awakened as we reached her dormant door
The gates of heaven were closed
And she was gone.
copy rights 2010
The Touchstone
There was a garden, very strange and fair
With all the roses summer never brings.
The snowy blossom of immortal Springs
Lighted its boughs, and I, even I, was there.
There were new heavens, and the earth was new,
And still I told my heart the dream was true.
But when the sun stood still, and Time went out
Like a blown candle--when she came to me
Under the bride-veil of the blossomed tree,
Chill through the garden blew the winds of doubt,
And when, with starry eyes, and lips too near,
She leaned to me, my heart knew what to fear.
'It is no dream,' she said. 'What dream had stayed
So long? It is the blessed isle that lies
Between the tides of twin eternities.
It is our island; do not be afraid!'
Then, then at last my heart was well deceived;
I hid my eyes; I trembled and believed.
Her real presence sanctified my faith,
Her very voice my restless fears beguiled,
And it was Life that clasped me when she smiled,
But when she said 'I love you!' it was Death.
That, that at least could neither be nor seem -
Oh, then, indeed, I knew it was a dream!
poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On Westminster Bridge.
Fay looked down
at the River Thames
from Westminster Bridge
and you stood next to her
watching the boats
go under the bridge
and disappear from view
and she said
my dad said he'd take me
on one of those boats
and out to sea
but he never has
you looked sideways at her
taking in her blonde hair
and her blue eyes
and the way the wind
touched her hair
and made her dress
move about her legs
I've been on boats
on the river before
you said
making conversation
not seeking to impress
or boast
I like the chugging sound
of the boat
you added
Fay touched
the edge of the bridge
where she stood
and said
this bridge was built in 1862
I heard about it in class
Miss Ash told us about it
oh yes she
with her massive shoulders
and arms and big breasts
you said
and Fay laughed
and blushed slightly
God knows what my dad'd say
if he heard you say that
and me laughing
she said
looking at you
and shyly smiling
probably give me
what's for
she uttered quieter
ceasing to smile
her eyes taking on
a dark gaze
looking out
at the river again
you've got to have a laugh
now and then
haven't you
you said
wanting to put
an arm about her
but not doing so
just putting a hand
next to hers
on the bridge top
feeling the cold stone
wanting to feel her flesh
soft and warm
suppose so
she said softly
her fingers close to yours
almost touching
you moved your hand
closer across the stone
crablike and touched
her small finger with yours
she breathed in the air
and so did you
and she said
oh to be in London
and out of doors.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Blue Moon (feat. Eric Clapton)
(Rodgers/Hart)
(feat. Eric Clapton)
Once upon a time before I took up smiling
I hated the moonlight
Shadows of the night that poets find beguiling
Seemed flat as the noonlight
With no one to stay up for I went to sleep at ten
Life was a bitter cup for the saddest of all men
Blue moon
You saw me standing alone
Without a dream in my heart
Without a love of my own
Blue moon
You know just what I was there for
You heard me saying a prayer for
Someone I really could care for
And then there suddenly appeared before me
The only one my arms will ever hold
I heard somebody whisper please adore me
And when I looked the moon had turned to gold
Blue moon
Now I'm no longer alone
Without a dream in my heart
Without a love of my own
And then there suddenly appeared before me
The only one my arms will ever hold
I heard somebody whisper please adore me
And when I looked the moon had turned to gold
Blue moon
Now I'm no longer alone
Without a dream in my heart
Without a love of my own
And then there suddenly appeared before me
The only one my arms will ever hold
I heard somebody whisper please adore me
And when I looked the moon had turned to gold
Blue moon
Now I'm no longer alone
Without a dream in my heart
Without a love of my own
Without a love of my own
Without a love of my own
Now I have a girl of my own
song performed by by Rod Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blue Moon
(feat. Eric Clapton)
Once upon a time before I took up smiling
I hated the moonlight
Shadows of the night that poets find beguiling
Seemed flat as the noonlight
With no one to stay up for I went to sleep at ten
Life was a bitter cup for the saddest of all men
Blue moon
You saw me standing alone
Without a dream in my heart
Without a love of my own
Blue moon
You know just what I was there for
You heard me saying a prayer for
Someone I really could care for
And then there suddenly appeared before me
The only one my arms will ever hold
I heard somebody whisper please adore me
And when I looked the moon had turned to gold
Blue moon
Now I'm no longer alone
Without a dream in my heart
Without a love of my own
And then there suddenly appeared before me
The only one my arms will ever hold
I heard somebody whisper please adore me
And when I looked the moon had turned to gold
Blue moon
Now I'm no longer alone
Without a dream in my heart
Without a love of my own
And then there suddenly appeared before me
The only one my arms will ever hold
I heard somebody whisper please adore me
And when I looked the moon had turned to gold
Blue moon
Now I'm no longer alone
Without a dream in my heart
Without a love of my own
Without a love of my own
Without a love of my own
Now I have a girl of my own
song performed by by Rod Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Smile For The Camera
I see you standing out there in the hall
You seem so nervous waiting for his call
I focus on you
I reach for the lens
The shutter snaps again
(smile)
Smile for the camera
You know
(smile)
The camera never ever lies
Ive been watching you with
Eager hungry eyes
For sometime
(smile)
I hold my lens in the middle of the night
Visions of you dancing in the strobe light
Up on my wall is a picture or two
Of someone who looks like you
(smile)
Smile for the camera
You know
(smile)
The camera is my wide lens
(smile)
You know the camera is my private eye
I got color transparencies
I got black and white
(smile)
Smile for the camera
You know that
(smile)
Cameras never ever lies
(smile)
Ive been watching you with telephoto eyes
For some time
(smile)
Smile for me
(come on)
Smile for me
(come on)
Smile for me
(come on)
Smile for me
(come on)
Smile for me
(come on)
Smile for me
(come on)
(smile)
Wont you smile for the camera
Wont you smile for the
Click, click, click
(smile)
Smile for the camera
(smile)
Smile for the camera
(smile)
Smile for the camera
(smile)
Smile for the camera
(smile)
Smile for the camera
(smile)
You know
(smile)
The camera is my private eye
(smile)
Ive got color transparencies
(smile)
Ive got black and white
(smile)
Smile for the camera
You know that
(smile)
Cameras never ever lies
(smile)
Ive been watching you with telephoto eyes
(smile)
Smile for the camera
You know that
(smile)
Camera is my private eye
(smile)
Ive been watching you
With eager hungry eyes for some time
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Two Seasons
I
The stars were wild that summer evening
As on the low lake shore stood you and I
And every time I caught your flashing eye
Or heard your voice discourse on anything
It seemed a star went burning down the sky.
I looked into your heart that dying summer
And found your silent woman's heart grown wild
Whereupon you turned to me and smiled
Saying you felt afraid but that you were
Weary of being mute and undefiled
II
I spoke to you that last winter morning
Watching the wind smoke snow across the ice
Told of how the beauty of your spirit, flesh,
And smile had made day break at night and spring
Burst beauty in the wasting winter's place.
You did not answer when I spoke, but stood
As if that wistful part of you, your sorrow,
Were blown about in fitful winds below;
Your eyes replied your worn heart wished it could
Again be white and silent as the snow.
poem by Galway Kinnell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love at first sight
There comes time when I watch an ancient sea at its slow ebb
Long hours with howling winds echoing over vast sand
Since I was entangled in your beauty's eyes web
And trembled at the touch of un gloved extended hand
Since I met you I never looked at the midnight ora of summer sky
But well remember each moment your slaying eyes memorized light
Nor I can look or compare a wild rose vermilion dye
But your cheek where my lips will crave to dwell in bright
Can I look in adoration at any budding flower
When my fond ear adores every sound uttered from your lips
And heartbreaking for love sound, passionate wording- it does devour
Any sweetness you may speak under the sun eclipse
Every delight you may bestow is a sweet remembering
Followed by subtle grief this may into my heart bring
Copy rights 2010
All rights reserved
If I Kiss You
Why waste your life for a long lost love?
Why waste your pretty smile -
even the spring upon the ancient skies
would never walk that mile.
Why waste your time remembering,
reviving what was past?
Why waste your pretty lips unkissed-
Can I kiss you then at last?
If I kiss you, would your eyes lose their coldness,
would your stone heart melt away?
If I kiss you with my soul upon my eager lips...
would I sweep your heart away?
If I touch your lips with my lips,
would you kiss me in return-
or tell me that there are no sparks
as stars don't give their own.
If I press your lips upon my own,
would you then forget his name?
Oh, why waste your life in nothing...
let me kiss you all my days!
poem by Jessel Jane Tevar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Her two great eyes
Her two great eyes will slay me suddenly;
Their beauty so stunningly shakes and penetrates me who once was serene;
Straight through my heart the wound is quick sharp and keen.
This is such a rare beauty my eyes never before have seen
Only her word; her smile or any tune will heal the injury
To my hurt heart, while yet the wound is clean -
Her pair of two great eyes will slay me suddenly and savagely without a jury;
Their beauty shakes me who was once serene.
Copy Rights 2010
All Rights reserved
Suddenly
Orbison/melson
Suddenly, my heart stood still
Suddenly, the sight of you gave me a thrill
Suddenly
Suddenly, i see you everywhere
Suddenly, all at once i seem to care for you
Suddenly
So suddenly i found you
To think you were near all the time
I've often been around you
I don't know how i could have been so blind
Suddenly, my world is new
Suddenly, suddenly there's only you
Suddenly
So suddenly i found you
To think you were near all the time
I've often been around you
I don't know how i could have been so blind
Suddenly, suddenly you're my dream come true
Suddenly, suddenly there's only you
So suddenly
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The winds
From the meadows her walks have left a balm so sweet
That whenever summer wind wilts and sighs
It sets the jewel print of her lovely feet
In violet blue hue as her slaying eyes
To the woody hollows in which we hide and meet
And the heavenly valleys of daunting Paradise
A slender bird in foliage high, his wings would not shake
One long white bloom of a tall sturdy tree
The white bloom reed fell bending into the fresh lake
As the pimpernels dozed in the summer sun on the lea
But the rose was all night advocating her sake
Knowing my love promise to me
With the lilies they were all night awake
wondering what my love acts and takes will prove to be
Four winds blowing through the bright sky,
My heart is heavy with forlorn love
You have seen poor me under the burden of love I die,
No remedy from the mountains around or the heaven above
I asked the winds: Tell me then what I shall do
That my maiden love may be honest, virtue and true.
Shall I be stern with her to the haughty
Or shall kisses and sweet talks will sway the maid so naughty
Oh, sighed the spring wind from out the South,
'Lay a kiss upon her voluptuous mouth, '
And the winter grumpy wind from out the West without mercy or taste,
'Wound the heart within the lovely valley of her breast, '
A prompt protest came from the summer wind from out the East,
'On the contrary! Send her a banquet of a lavish feast, '
With disdain and mockery breaths the autumn wind from out the North,
Exclaimed: 'In the tempest winds thrust her forth;
Shall I be cruel and harsh as she
Then her love will pacify and relent to be kind to me
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Roses On White Lace
I saw you in your wedding gown
The prettiest dress
I came into the room that night
And made such a mess
In my own way, I lovingly kiss the bride
With your ring in your hand
Your eyes and your mouth open wide
In my eyes
Blood drops look like roses on white lace
They won't wash away
In my mind they're roses on white lace
Straight from the heart
So dead upon the bed
You hurt me in the deepest way
I'm crippled inside
I took your evil skin away
It's all cut and dried
I saw you tonight and carefully took your hand
With some smears on my cheeks
I knew that you would understand
In my eyes
Blood drops look like roses on white lace
They won't wash away
In my mind they're roses on white lace
Straight from the heart
So dead upon the bed, still searching for your head
They're never gonna find your face
It's hidden away
I found a very special place where you used to play
In my own way, I lovingly kiss the bride
With your ring in your hand
Your eyes and your mouth open wide
In my eyes
Blood drops look like roses on white lace
They won't wash away
In my mind they're roses on white lace
Straight from the heart
Blood drops look like roses on white lace
Crimson and sweet, stained on the sheet
Roses on white lace, pretty in red, dripping and wet
Roses on white lace, spilled on the walls, dark in the hall
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Father
The evening found us whom the day had fled,
Once more in bitter anger, you and I,
Over some small, some foolish, trivial thing
Our anger would not decently let die,
But dragged between us, shamed and shivering
Until each other's taunts we scarcely heard,
Until we lost the sense of all we said,
And knew not who first spoke the fatal word.
It seemed that even every kiss we wrung
We killed at birth with shuddering and hate,
As if we feared a thing too passionate.
However close we clung
One hour the next hour found us separate,
Estranged, and Love most bitter on our tongue.
To-night we quarrelled over one small head,
Our fruit of last year's maying, the white bud
Blown from our stormy kisses and the dead
First rapture of our wild, estranging blood.
You clutched him: there was panther in your eyes,
We breathed like beasts in thickets, on the wall
Our shadows in huge challenge seemed to rise,
The room grew dark with anger. Yet through all
The shame and hurt and pity of it you were
Still strangely and imperishably dear,
As one who loves the wild day none the less
That breaks in bitter hands the buds of Spring,
Whose cold hand stops the breath of loveliness,
And drives the wailing ghost of beauty past,
Making the rose, — even the rose, a thing
For pain to be remembered by at last.
I said: 'My son shall wear his father's sword.'
You said: 'Shall hands once blossoms at my breast
Be stained with blood?' I answered with a word
More bitter, and your own, the bitterest
Stung me to sullen anger, and I said:
'My son shall be no coward of his line
Because his mother choose'; you turned your head
And your eyes grew implacable in mine.
And like a trodden snake you turned to meet
The foe with sudden hissing… then you smiled,
And broke our life in pieces at my feet,
'Your child?' you said: 'Your child?'
poem by Muriel Stuart
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Tryst
Ambrose stood at the cottage step
A bouquet in his hand,
He'd come to woo sweet Adeline
From a strange and far off land,
They'd known each other since children, and
They'd made to each a vow:
‘I never will love another more
Than I love you, even now! '
They'd played in the heat of the summer sun,
They'd played in the autumn shade,
But winter carried him far from home
And the love that they'd almost made,
They wrote through spring and the summer's height
They wrote right through to the fall,
But the winter chills saw the postman fill
No letterbox at all.
His letters came back, duly stamped
‘Not known at this address! '
He grieved as the spring made true love sing
Anew in his sorrowing breast,
He bought a ticket and travelled home
Third Class, by Packet Steam,
But fretted all of the way across
For the love of his Adeline.
He knocked at the cottage door where she
Had lived when the world was good,
But the knocker made an echoing sound
On the door, where Ambrose stood,
The flowers she'd tended lovingly
Were dead in the window box,
Except for a patch of colour there,
A clump of forget-me-nots.
He knocked, and then he knocked again,
There came no patter of feet,
Only the sound of silence there
As he felt his own heart beat,
He little knew as he turned away
That a bier stood in the hall,
And the coffin that lay there sombrely
Knew nothing of life at all.
She'd ceased to write when she caught the sight
Of the blood on her handkerchief,
And the winter cough said clear enough
That there'd be no summer heat,
She lay in the coffin, sweetly dressed,
With a note beside her brow:
‘I never will love another more
Than I love you, even now! '
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Home Town
The last time I saw my home town, her trees were dressed for spring,
And her people walked beneath those trees and birds found songs to sing.
The last time I saw my home town, her heart was warm and gay,
No matter how cruelly they change her, I'll remember her that way.
I dodged and hided in the fields of golden corn that I had dodged for years.
The chorus of the wind blowing the heavy loaded stems was music to my ears
I thought of happy hours and pure childhood lost, and laborious people who toiled their day
Old women, selling flowers, in markets at dawn, kids rushing to their play
Lonely I was, scanning with lonely eyes, seeking her in vain
Her streets are where they were, but there's no sign of her; the pain is insane
Where are the children who ran in the park and in sun sandy paths
And those who danced under summer night looked at the stars and laugh
I used to watch as a child the fair morning fog clearly chiming in its flowing before my eye;
Warmly and broadly the south winds were winding and blowing over the sky.
One after another the white clouds over the fields of wild tulips were fleeting;
Every heart that gorgeous May morning in joyance was brimming and beating
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