Antidote for J.T.Ellison
Before me lies a narrow road
with hedges, high on either side.
With only sunlight for my load
I am content to boldly stride
I care not where the road may lead
but I am sure it leads somewhere.
That’s knowledge that I do not need
I am not burdened down by care.
For two whole weeks I am quite free.
I chose a walking holiday.
There is so much I wish to see.
How could there be a better way
The sun is warming on my back.
My shadow always runs ahead
on metalled roads or dusty track
and I must follow where I’m led.
Once noon is passed I start to look
I am not fussy not at all
A wayside on or sheltered nook
protected by a dry stone wall.
My sleeping bag is very light
but waterproof and warm withal.
I do not fear the fall of night.
I’ll sleep lulled by the night birds call.
The first rays of the rising sun
will serve in place of my alarm.
Then I will rise and carry one
and breakfast at some friendly farm.
I have sufficient cash to pay
for what I need as I pass through
small villages along the way.
Where I may spend an hour or two.
Or stay the night If I so choose.
I have no deadline I must keep.
My ready cash they won’t refuse
I’m sure to find a place to sleep.
But holidays like all good things
come to an end eventually.
But until them my heart still sing
as I store up new memories.
I must return and be confined
in narrow grimy city streets.
Which seem to me to be designed
for those weighed down by life’s defeats.
I am refreshed and ready to
endure the drabness of each day
with brick walls limiting my view.
Remembering my holiday.
15-Oct-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
anything is possible For M'lady Tara
I’d been driving since early morn
and some where I had gone astray
I was weary and travel worn.
I had to find a place to stay.
A good nights rest, a hearty meal
would make a new man out of me
I hoped the road would soon
reveal a wayside inn or hostelry.
I had not seen another soul
since I had left the main highway.
This single track seemed to unroll
in front of me in some strange way.
I was too tired to concentrate
I was fatigued and needed rest
I knew the hour was growing lat
and I decided it would be best
To book into the first hotel
or bed and breakfast I could find.
Either one would suit me well
I did not care I would not mind.
Just then I saw some way ahead
a building with a sign outside.
When I got closer I could read.
Be welcome stranger step inside.
I parked my car just off the track
and boldly knocked upon the door.
Which slowly opened just a crack
then gradually a little more
Until at last it opened wide.
That doors gey stiff, a sharp voice said.
An ancient lady stood inside.
I asked her if she had a bed.
I have two rooms and they’re both free
the season hasn’t started yet.
So come you in where you can see
It is not often that I get.
A visitor at all these days
not since they built the carrigeway
She fanned the fire into a blaze.
She was quite certain I would stay.
She showed me to a cosy room
and said she would prepare a meal.
An oil lamp would relieve the gloom.
It seemed that I had struck a deal.
I did not care how much it cost
I had to eat and needed rest
I told her that I had got lost
and had decided it was best
To find some place to spend the night
before I had an accident
She said she thought that I was right
and I should bide the night content.
Tomorrow was another day.
I ate my meal and went to bed.
How long I slept I cannot say
When I awoke I found instead.
Of being warm and dry in bed
I was outside beneath the sky.
My old suit case pillowed my head.
Now I will wonder til I die.
If it was merely some strange dream
created by my tired mind.
Or had I entered some time stream
to find what I needed to find
Which took me back to yester year.
When folks lived at a slower pace
The memory is crystal clear
although I could not find a trace.
There was no record anywhere
to prove the house had ever been.
Officials thought me mad I fear
when I described the house I’d seen.
I had it researched thoroughly
By local experts in this field
But they found no more trace than I
At last I gave up forced to yield.
Admit my search had been in vain
Although it defies common sense
the memories which I retain
are not a matter of pretence.
I do not often share this tale
which I believe to be quite true.
I know quite well that I should fail
If I attempt to convince you.
I know from past experience.
Though there are some but very few.
Who listen to me with patience
and can admit it could be true.
Some things can never be explained
although they are improbable.
I only know that I’ve retained
Belief that all is possible.
31-Jul-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Death is not the end For M'lady Ernestine
Death is not the end.
A ray of sunlight penetrates
the quiet gloom of the sick room
Wherein a dying lady waits.
For death to call impatiently.
She has no fear she is content
To know that soon she will be free.
For ninety years she’s done her best.
To her the sunlight seems to be
A sign that she has passed the test.
The ray of light eventually
illuminates her final smile.
She passes over quietly.
Her empty shell lies peacefully.
Almost as if she slumbered still.
Her spirit soars triumphantly.
Towards the light she hopes to see.
Remaining faithful to the end
She goes ahead confidently.
She has outlived her family
and all her friends are long since dead.
She lived her life successfully.
She lived and died competently
and she passed on with no regrets.
To start a new life hopefully.
Wednesday,30 June 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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City Streets
The gaudy glow of neon lights
dispels the darkness of the nights
on city streets.
They pop and fizzle noisily
creating a cacophony
on city streets.
The sober folks walk warily
and drunks stagger uncaringly
on city streets.
The ladies of the night parade
for there is money to be made
on city streets.
Drug dealers ready to retreat
if they should hear a coppers feet
on city streets.
The night shift workers wend their way
towards their work to start their day
on city streets.
The noisy revellers thin out
as one by one the signs go out
on city streets.
The gradually noises abate
and ghostly shadow congregate
on city streets.
For some few hours peace will reign
before the noise will start again
on city streets.
The early morning traffic sounds
start with the milkmen on their rounds
on city streets.
This builds up to an angry roar
as cars and lorries inward pour
on city streets
then when at last rush hour has passed
noise levels will subside at last
on city streets
I thank the lord that I am free
to leave this noise far behind me
on city streets.
I walked my beat the whole night
through exactly as I’m paid to do
on city streets.
I choose to live outside the town
where constant noise won’t get me down
on city streets.
My village is a quiet place
A haven where I need not face
the noisy streets.
8-Jun-07
poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Mans Road
Written by jimmy webb, 1982
Found on the last unicorn soundtrack and your move (french import only).
Horizon rising up to meet the purple dawn
Dust demon screaming, bring an eagle to lead me on
For in my heart I carry such a heavy load
Here I am on mans road, walking mans road, walking mans road
Im hungry, weary, but I cannot lay me down
The rain comes, dreary, but theres no shelter I have found
It will be a long time till I find my abode
Here I am on mans road, walking mans road
Moon rising, disguising lonely streets in gay displays
The stars fade, the night shade falls and makes the world afraid
It waits in silence for the sky to explode
Here I am on mans road, walking mans road, walking mans road
Walking mans road, walking mans road, walking mans road
song performed by by America
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Every Road Leads Me Back To You
Every road leads me back to you.
My destiny is mapped out
for every step I take
and every road I travel
leads me back to you.
Some are guided by the morning sun,
some by the moon and stars at night,
but every road I travel
leads me back to you.
Our home maybe far away
in the snow tipped mountaintops
or under the big city lights.
It does not matter where it lies,
every road I take the end will be the same,
for every road leads me back to you,
and you are there to shelter me
from any given storm.
You lead me away from temptations
that plague my life.
You are always there
when my foes I have to fight.
Each night when I am weary
tis, you I come to at night,
for every road I travel, Lord
always leads me back to you
for my faith to be renewed.
11 August 2008
poem by David Harris
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Back to my roots for friend Bob
The sun is setting on the sea.
It paints the restless waters red.
I sit alone solitary
and from my vantage point I see
The sky darken to indigo
I sit alone and watch night fall.
I choose to stay although I know
that duty calls and I should go.
Back to the harsh reality
I have to cope with every day.
The endless noise of the city.
With which I feel no empathy.
I must suppose I’ll always be
the country boy that I once was
But driven by necessity
I left my home reluctantly.
There was no future there for me
No way to earn my daily bread
Just endless grinding poverty.
A prospect which I chose to flee.
I was naïve and hopeful then.
I thought the city offered me
A better chance to start again
But sadly I was mistaken.
The hungry city swallowed me.
I found a job which paid my way.
A porter in a mortuary
The ultimate in irony.
I served the dead to stay alive.
But every hour that I was free.
I needed fresh air to survive.
I took my car and I would drive.
Out to the hill above the sea
to fill my lungs with fresh clean air.
And for a little while be free
from scents and sounds of the city.
I will retire very soon.
I think that I have earned the right.
To sit outside my door at noon
or if I choose to watch the moon.
I shall go back where I belong
Back to the open countryside.
Although I’m old I am still strong
I have no doubt I’ll get along.
Quite happily where I should be
I was not meant for city life.
I‘ll leave the city thankfully.
Retirement will set me free.
26/07/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Chronology is Bunkum For MY Lady Irene
The garden when the sun has set.
Becomes a very different place.
It is quite easy to forget
the fall of night cannot erase.
The beauty which we see by day.
A garden is a hallowed place.
The moon will rise to show the way
Light granted by the Goddess’ grace.
Moonlight will silver all we see.
My love and walk hand in hand.
The garden transformed magically
into our private fairyland.
The moon is smiling from on high
To see two lovers fond embrace
She knows full well the reason why
gardens by night are filled with grace.
There is a bench where we can sit.
Enjoy the quiet of night
Admire the roses silver lit
by gentle beams of soft moonlight.
The night wind rises turning cold
Remind us that its time for bed
We know that we are growing old
Surprised how quickly years have fled.
We won’t admit to being old.
Bar to each other privately.
Pretending to be young and bold.
Defying age aggressively.
Because you do not need to know.
It’s obvious we are mature
Our way of life sedate and slow.
Though you may guess you can’t be sure.
We won’t be old until we choose.
Determined to stay young at heart
Because we stubbornly refuse
To let the aging process start
27/07/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Shadows
Beside the Narrow Crossing-Place
(And night was falling gray),
Two Shadows met, the legends tell. .
Each Shadow went its way.
But there was anguish in their eyes,
And tears in both their hearts.
Beside the Narrow Crossing-Place,
Where Shade from Shadow parts.
For they had seen the Rising Sun
In opal and in rose,
For they had seen the Rising Sun,
Who saw the long day close.
And had they met at Mom or Noon
Who met the shades between?
Ay! had they met at Morn or Noon
And so — the Might-Have-Been !
poem by Edwin James Brady
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Holiday Road
I found out long ago
It's a long way down the Holiday Road
Holiday Road
Holiday Road
Jack be nible, Jack be quick
Take a ride on a West Coast kick
Holiday Road
Holiday Road
Holiday Road
Holiday Road
I've come back long ago
Long way down the Holiday Road
Holiday Road
Holiday Road
Holiday Road
Holiday Road
song performed by by Lindsey Buckingham
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shadow Dancers for M 'lady Amy
The shadow which throughout the day
have hidden quietly away.
In nooks and crannies which they know
Day is their time for lying low.
When darkness falls come out to play.
Although the sunlight rules the day.
The silver moon’s in charge by night
and she has granted them the right.
To freely frolic through the night
they do not fear her gentle light.
Though when the sunrise lights the skies.
They hide again if they are wise.
Perhaps the sleep all through the day
I do not know I cannot say.
I only know it’s my delight
to see the shadows dance at night.
They can appear and disappear
but they are far too fast I fear.
For human eyes to clearly see
the shadows dancing gracefully.
Our eyes accustomed to the light
don’t work efficiently at night.
Though sometimes watching quietly
You see them dancing silently.
17-Jan-09
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Who Will It Be
Who will take care of you when you get older
When you are walking down life’s road
Who will be there, with love and also care
When you, yourself are old.
Who will hold your hand and walk with you
When you are walking down life’s road
Who will be at your side, to be your guide
Who, but only you will know.
Who will carry you if you become to tired to walk
When you are walking down life’s road
Who will carry your weight, and wont hesitate
Who could be that proud and bold.
Who will stay at your side and will not leave you
When you are walking down life’s road
Who will wipe away your tear, and soothe your fear
Who will comfort your mind and soul.
Who will be there with you till the very end
When you are walking down life’s road
When you see the mistakes, that you did make
When your life unto you will unfold.
Who will be there to tell you goodbye
When your journey ends on life’s road
When you take those steps, with sadness and regret
Who will be the one with love to show.
poem by Randy McClave
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I Don't Care
I don't care where I live my life
As long as I have you,
I don't care where my home is
As long as there is us two,
I don't care if we live in a house
Or in a mansion, or even a cave,
I just want you at my side
Where together, forever we will stay,
I don't care to count out my money
Every nickel, penny, quarter or dime,
I don't care to spend all of our money
On our place that is yours and mine,
I don't care if the nights are cold
At the place that we will call home.
I don't care if the days are hot
As long as I have you and I am not alone,
I don't care what country we are in
Or where finally we will lay our roots,
I don't care what language me might speak
As long as I can still say I love you,
I don't care where I sleep at night
Whether it be a hut, or cabin, tent or igloo,
I don't care where I wake up in the morning
As long as I wake up next to you,
I don't care if we have one room
At the place that we will spend our life,
I don't care what people might ever say
All I care is to have you as my wife.
poem by Randy McClave
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The Call of the Bush
Three roads there are that climb and wind
Amongst the hills, and leave behind
The patterned orchards, sloping down
To meet a little country town.
And of these roads I'll take the one
That tops the ridges, where the sun
Is tempered by the mountain-breeze
And dancing shadows of the trees.
The road is rough - but to my feet
Softer than is the city street;
And then the trees! - how beautiful
She-oak and gum - how fresh and cool!
No walls there are to hamper me;
Only in blue infinity
The distant mountain-ramparts rise
Beneath the broad arch of the skies.
And in that high place I shall hear
The wild birds' singing, soft and clear;
And horse-bells tinkling as of old
In amongst the wattles' gold
Far-off is the ocean tide;
But there across the country-side
Roll waves of bush that rise and fall
To break against the mountain-wall.
And every little farm is seen
An island in a sea of green;
And every little farm at night
Flings through the dark its beacon-light -
There in the silence of the hills,
I shall find peace that soothes and stills
The throbbing of the weary brain, -
For I am going home again.
poem by Dora Wilcox
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All Roads Lead Back To You
Some roads are rough and rocky
Some very narrow to get through
But whatever road I travel
It always leads back to you
You are my beacon light
That shines through every storm
You are there by the fire
That keeps our house a home
You walk with me each day
Through happiness and pain
You are my sheltering umbrella
Whenever there is rain
No matter where I travel
Where ever in the world I roam
I have the inner knowledge
That I will never lose my way
Because all roads lead back to you
And the place we call our home
3 March 2007
poem by David Harris
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Minor Sins for M lady Lorraine
The shadow of an echo falls
upon deaf ears which listen not.
They fail to hear the distant calls
of memories they thought forgot.
The sinful acts they have repressed
and buried deep in memory.
Are in their disturbed sleep expressed.
Rise to remind them forcefully.
The night mares we perforce must ride
are merely our self punishment
We cannot from our conscience hide.
We must acknowledge and repent
those things we did unthinkingly
before we can sleep peacefully.
14-Nov-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Night Whisperer
O Night comes again,
When the golden light leaving the sky
Follow the sun, to the west hills it flies
Flying birds now return, reach home again
Slowly the shadow comes, kiss over the land
Shades of night
Blanket all in the dark
So your eyes, closed for light
Don't give up or tired by today's fears
By my palm touch you softly with prayers
Leave your worry to sleep well, goodnight, dear
O Night comes again,
Warrior of nights present with delightful smiles
Radiant spherical resonance glows you from miles
Lunar whispers in lullaby, trade your sad with happiness
Protect you from dark, shield in armor, made of light
Goodnight, sleep tight, no danger dares to you tonight
This supreme night
Pillow your mind with bubble dreams
Go high and absorb the moonlight beam
To lullaby you with a sweet dream story
Before come tomorrow rise with sun glory
And run and forget yesterday for new history
O Night comes again
Sparkling in the air, like fairies dancing in the sky
Scattering stars exist at night and gone in daylight
Their shadows in your eyes, blanket you warm in bravery
Remind you 'In the dark, a faint light bolder as brightest spark'
'Find bright in destiny, night help you search for purely'
Be brave always may tonight you gain spirit, and be free
Dont sad if today breaks your heart
Release your mind, calm soul to back home
Next day will be another day, a new start
Wonderful life will come and past just gone
Ease your worry, come sleep, close your eyes
Just dream sweet, sleep well and goodnight
So happy to see you smile,
Could be today life you enjoy so much
Still a lot surprises to discover tomorrow
But now Sleep well smile bright and goodnight
Tuck in patient, waiting for new day
Shades of night
Blanket all in the dark
When the sun falling down
Nothing to lose in dark
But to find strength without light
From east sun reborn, the end of night
And run again for new life, make true your dream
Flying with the birds from nest and discover the day rest
Whispers will no end, my wish will reach you wherever you are
Because the night in every second, to remind the night walker
Where moon just come and comfort you anytime you want
For day will come,
Till the light bring golden ray in warm
Let moonlight embrace you in night arm
Be with you, keep warm on your side
Before tomorrow good night, sleep sweet tonight
Sleep dear, dream high and smile as moon give to borrow
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Even day lose it bright sun, but not mean dark with moon is to cry,
so dropp your sorrow, leave your worry because, in dark
there's a hint to rise again, to rest from all pains, to see another side
of spirit that we neglected in daylight...this come with melody of lullaby
..if we lose in dark, keep believe there's a best way to give us the best
things about life...it's a breakthrough method to find success as sometimes
we never meet a big success before we meet big failure/ dark..
Bring it positive, , , and like in our day, night also will go and sun will rise again
so the new day comes for new start...to make dream to be true
where past nightmare it just nothing to scare..
So take care, Goodnight and sleep tight wherever you are
because every second, there's a place meet dark...be bright!
_Unwritten Soul
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poem by Unwritten Soul
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The Broad and The Narrow
When Christ started The Church He made things quite simple and clear,
However many are following Religious Leaders into ambiguity I fear.
Christ came to give us freedom through the Cross-of Salvation,
However many are following Religious Leaders on roads of damnation.
Christ told the early disciples of only one road in which to follow,
But today Religious Leaders try to make His words vain and hollow.
The only road is a narrow one, and you enter through a narrow gate,
This Truth is despised by Religious Leaders, who proclaim it is hate.
While very few find this road that leads to the only Resurrection,
A broader road is being paved by Religious Leaders to destruction.
It’s easy to get on this road through a wide gate and many are on it,
Being lead by Religious Leaders who Christ warned are false prophets.
They come to you in sheep’s clothing and appear to be pure and good,
But inwardly these Religious Leaders are darkened ferocious wolves.
In the end many will abandon the faith to follow hypocritical liars,
Lead by Religious Leaders with morals that were seared with an iron.
When you stand before The Lord, it’s only His words you will hear,
You can follow these Religious Leaders or The Lord with Holy Fear.
Will He say “Away from me” as you chose to be wicked and irreverent?
Or will you hear Him say, “Well done My fine and faithful servant”?
(Copyright © 07/2002)
Where Your Road Leads
(written by victoria shaw and desmond child)
I believe in miracles
I believe in signs
And I believe that mountains move
One prayer at a time
If I could be an angel
Id make your every wish come true
But I am only human
Just a woman
Lovin you
Where your road leads
I will follow
When your heart bleeds
Ill be there for you
When your night grows dark
And you cant find your tomorrow
Then you can follow me
Someday well look back and see
Our footprints in the sand
Sometimes you would carry me
And sometimes youd be in my hands
If we can love forever
That wont be long enough for me
I want to hold you tender
Be your shelter
All you need
Where your road leads
I will follow
When your heart bleeds
Ill be there for you
When your night grows dark
And you cant find your tomorrow
Then you can follow me
Oh, we can be each others guiding light
Through this long and winding life
Where your road leads
I will follow
When your heart bleeds
Ill be there for you
When your night grows dark
And you cant find your tomorrow
When youve lost sight of your dreams
Then you can follow me
song performed by by Trisha Yearwood
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tutorial for David de Santis
I read some poetry today
by long dead poets from the past,
which I enjoyed I have to say.
Their golden words were meant to last
.
Though they long since returned to dust.
The legacy they left behind
for poetry students is a must.
It is as if they were designed.
To act as templates we can use
as we learn to write poetry
It would be foolish to refuse
to benefit from history.
So find a poet you admire
from the past or present day
You might just find his works inspire
you to write a different way.
Experiment with every kind,
free form, free verse, formality
then in due course you’re sure to find
which one of these is your forte
The time you spend to learn the rules
is one investment you must make
Like any trade you need the tools,
Before you can attempt to make
your claim to be a master bard.
The road to fame is long and hard
with very little cash reward.
you have to try, no one is barred.
30-May-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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We are not amused for M lady Mary Gordley
I cannot sleep the whole night through.
My muse will not allow me to
when she commands I must obey.
I wish she’d take a holiday.
She thinks that sleeping is a crime
she does not sleep so why should I.
A complete and utter waste of time.
Which I could better occupy
by sitting at my desk to write
instead of lazing in my bed.
I think she thinks she has the right.
She just ignores all I have said.
Some folks complain of writers block
whilst I have writers Diarrhoea
My muse would hide beneath a rock
if she could not supply ideas.
Which I must translate into verse
to demonstrate her eloquence
She views my fatigue as perverse;
of very little consequence.
An active muse can be a curse
I sometimes wish she’d stay away
To have no muse would be much worse
I just give in do it her way.
5-Jun-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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