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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Reading light for M lady Ernestine
Silver moonlight illuminates
small garden plots and vast estates.
It does not differentiate.
Between the low born and the high.
The gentle ruler of the sky
treats all her children equally.
The goddess demonstrates her care
Each one receives their rightful share.
She has enough and love to spare..
I have to read by candle light
on nights when there is no moonlight.
Though not tonight the moon is bright.
Moonlight is absolutely free
and it is bright enough to see.
To read or write my poetry.
I hear you say that’s nothing new.
You often write by moonlight too.
Perhaps because most poets do.
27/07/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Summer nights delights.
The sable cloak of night is sown
With a beauty which is shown
By a myriad points of light.
Which show against the dark of night
A background certain to enhance
Selena mistress of romance
As she observes young lovers dreams
She blesses them with soft moon beams.
Although the moon is permanent
Young love is often transient
But for tonight the moon will do.
Her best to make your dreams come true.
The sable cloak of night conceals
What the morning sun reveals
Feelings engendered by the moon
Can fade away alas too soon.
Thursday,19 January 2012
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Our Lady for M lady Ann Beard
The eastern sky is rosy red.
The sun has risen from his bed
The moon knows that it’s time to go
We do not need her silver glow.
The Sun will reign throughout the day.
In Majesty he makes his way
across the sky from east to west.
An honoured and a welcome guest.
The Sun commands mankind’s respect
Authority we must accept.
Without the sun the world would be
devoid of life permanently.
The silver moon reflects by night
a gentler version of his light.
We recognise the difference
and treat the moon with reverence.
Though we respect and fear the sun.
It is the gentle moon which won
The reverence which men display
towards the Goddess still today.
03/06/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Singular Duality for M lay Catrina
The moon against the blue black night
A symbol of serenity
Bathes the world with silver light
a touch of surreality.
Far different to the world by day
which has no time for fantasy
The boring hum drum everyday
view of the world that most folks see.
The moonlight stimulates our dreams.
The interplay of light and shade
where nothing is quite as it seems.
The stuff of which all dreams are made.
The silver moon light can create
a moving tapestry of dreams
Produce in us a trance like state
and blend together without seams
reality and fantasy
Two worlds existing side by side
the moon somehow mysteriously
their difference can override.
I seize each opportunity
to see the shadows as they dance.
The moonlit night providing me
the time and place and circumstance.
26/04/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Changing perceptions for Friend Thad
The sun shines on the frozen snow.
Where ice crystals refract the light
The primal colours come and go.
Add fleeting beauty to the white.
When nightfall brings to end the day.
No pretty colours can be seen.
Just shifting shadows blue and grey.
which make a sad depressing scene
though soon the silver moon will rise.
Her gentle beams chase the shadows.
Revealing only snow and ice
which in the moonlight softly glows.
The beauty shows by day or night
Quite independent of the light.
Saturday,15 May 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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The nearness of you for MY Lady Irene,
Stray moonbeams are softly stealing, through my window and revealing.
Things I do not see by daylight. Odd ornaments which they highlight.
They trigger off old memories, not always guaranteed to please
Soft silver beams enable me to the past so vividly.
It is as if the years between which flew so fast had never been
But I can remember too the happy years I’ve spent with you.
You lie there sleeping peacefully I feel your love enfolding me.
The silver beams caress your face and lend to you an added grace
An aura of divinity. I do not need moonlight to see.
Perhaps mine is biased view because I.'m so in love with you
I look at you with lovers eyes and once again I realise.
How privileged I am to be watching you sleep peacefully
You reach your hand out sleepily I stroke it reassuringly.
I am content to simply be, lying beside you quietly.
The moonbeams leave before the dawn.Heralds a new day being born
My love for you won’t fade away its growing stronger every day.
Unlike the moon beams which must leave It is eternal I believe.
Monday,22 February 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Autumn Was Here
Autumn
invades the garden
paints(regardless)
evertything in moonlight
the cat perched
in the tree
the owl stuck
to the ground
the lovers(hidden
just out of sight)
kissing good night
even their words
silver with longing
even the silence.
Autumn moves on
(like a graffitti artist
with a can of moonlight in its hand)
... to the next garden.
poem by Dónall Dempsey
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Late Evening stroll for Friend Bob
Night falls swiftly and silently.
Across the quiet countryside.
The new moon shows through fitfully.
Although the dark clouds try to hide.
This slender crescent from our view.
They succeed only partially.
Soft silver beams keep breaking through
providing light so I can see.
Quite well enough to find my way.
The darkness does not frighten me
though I prefer the light of day
But still stroll contentedly
by paths familiar to me.
Which lead me home eventually.
14/07/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Reviewing the situation 2009
Moonlight on the water gleaming, nightime is the time for dreaming.
Lovers walking hand in hand, creating their own wonderland.
Sharing dreams as lovers do. dreams are better shared by two.
Sharing dreams discovering togetherness means everything
They are too young to understand fate can step in and take command.
They cannot do what they want to. It’s very sad but all too true
Circumstances altering quickly changing everything.
No longer strolling hand in hand, fate has destroyed their fairyland.
They’ve grown apart as couples do. What they have lost they can’t renew.
Although they once shared everything, that’s gone beyond recovering.
Their hopes and dreams they built on sand, without foundations cannot stand.
It’s not an easy thing to do they have no choice but to review
the situation once again..Though breaking up will cause you pain.
The dreams you shared were not in vain. You’re free to search for love again.
.
09/06/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Appreciative Audience.
Soft moonlight filters through the trees
Which seem to dance to melodies
Created by the gentle breeze.
The shadows on the ground dance too
Or to my eyes they appear to
Disintegrate then form anew.
Sometimes the clouds blot out the light
The shadows gain a brief respite.
Rejoin the darkness of the night.
But clouds move on and when they do
And once again moonlight shows through.
The trees will dance, the shadows too.
The sun will rise to start the day.
The dancing shadows hide away
But where they hide no man can say.
The sun completes his daily quest.
Journeying from east to west.
Then sinks below the sea to rest.
The moon will rise she rules the night
Then once again to my delight
She bathes the trees in silver light.
The melodies played by the breeze
Will re awake the sleeping trees.
To dance again with practiced ease.
Beneath the trees reluctantly
the shadows still dance gracefully.
I watch in silence gratefully.
I know they do not dance for me
And I am privileged to see
The shadows dance under the trees.
Friday,23 September 2011
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Demystified for M' lady Cate
The mist persists, it will insist
it has the right to block the light
with trailing wisps of dirty white.
The mist is wrong and it will learn
to leave when it has served its turn
Because the sun will rise and burn
the remnants of the mist away
There is no way that it can stay
once the bright sun comes out to play.
The mist defeated has to go.
It leaves reluctantly and slow
but where it goes I do not know.
It will return with fall of night
lurk in the darkness hid from sight.
Unless outlined by the moonlight.
The silver light makes it appear
to be the ghosts which cause men fear.
But they will quickly disappear
When banks of cloud obscure the light.
Be re-absorbed into the night.
to their dismay but men’s delight.
The mists persist they wont desist
as long as day and night exist
and if they did they would be missed.
The moisture which the mist supply
the plants trees drink thirstily.
Without the mists some plants would die.
1-Jun-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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What nonsense is this?
I see the moon, the moon sees me but she sees more than I can see.
I am earth bound I cannot fly but she serenely floats on high
and bathes world in silver light. Which can relieve the darkest night.
She grants to all men equally, sufficient light for them to see.
The cloak of darkness does not hide, lying in wait for prey outside
werewolves, vampires, ghosts and ghouls. The flying predators are owls,
that haunt the night on noiseless wings in search of mice and smaller things.
The silver moonlight reassures to some extent but does not cure.
ancestral fears. Although far fetched are nonetheless so deeply etched
in the collective memories of human kind. The vague unease
which is still felt by men today when darkness falls and night holds sway.
Of course does not apply to us, just to the superstitious.
18-Aug-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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The Garden
A Garden contemplation suits,
And may instruction yield,
Sweeter than all the flow'rs and fruits
With which the spot is filled.
Eden was Adam's dwelling place,
While blest with innocence;
But sin o'erwhelmed him with disgrace,
And drove the rebel thence.
Oft as the garden-walk we tread,
We should bemoan his fall;
The trespass of our legal head
In ruin plunged us all.
The garden of Gethsemane,
The second Adam saw,
Oppressed with woe, to set us free
From the avenging law.
How stupid we, who can forget,
With gardens in our sight,
His agonies and bloody sweat,
In that tremendous night.
His church as a fair garden stands,
Which walls of love enclose;
Each tree is planted by his hand,
And by his blessing grows.
Believing hearts are gardens too,
For grace has sown its seeds;
Where once, by nature, nothing grew
But thorns and worthless weeds.
Such themes to those who Jesus love,
May constant joys afford;
And make a barren desert prove
The garden of the Lord.
poem by John Newton
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Saving grace for M'ladyAnn Beard
Moonlight on the water glowing gently. As the tide out flowing
leaves silver traces on the sand. I think that now I understand,
the feeling of serenity. Which quickly flooded over me.
From being lonely and depressed I felt as though I had been blessed.
Bathed in the Goddess’ radiance I was given a second chance.
To be who I was meant to be, that peaceful night beside the sea.
I can recall it vividly. It was a peak experience
I still hold her in reverence.Although I have no evidence.
to prove to you my words are true do not feel that I need to.
Unless touched by the Goddess’ hand you simply would not understand
So I began my life anew because the Goddess bid me to.
The goddess cares for her children, she gave me confidence again.
I know that I can make the grade I face the future unafraid.
19-Dec-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Farewell for M lady Francesca
Glosa a tribute to
Katherine Tynan 1859-1931.
Not soon, shall I forget.
A sheet of golden water cool and sweet
The young moon with head in veils
of silver and the nightingales.
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Not soon, shall I forget a sheet
of water silvered by the moon.
A quiet place where lovers meet
to share a pleasant afternoon.
A sheet of golden water cool and sweet.
A place of vivid memories
which mark both triumph and defeat.
I can recall at will with ease.
The young moon with her head in veils
They say foretells a weather change.
Wise weather lore which seldom fails
Although the experts find it strange
Of silver and the nightingales.
That is a secret I shall keep.
Your questioning is doomed to fail.
I can’t say why he ceased to care.
Tuesday,24 August 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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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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The Moon's Pilgrimage...
Moon’s Pilgrimage … Across The Sky To Praise
The Maker and All His Wondrous Ways
Moon’s Pilgrimage … Rises High, In Grace
Yet, Still In A Humble – Pilgrim’s Place
Moon’s Pilgrimage … Will Not Betray
All The Moonlight, GOD Lets Display
Tho’ She Moves In His Cosmic-Stage-Play
From His Theme-Theatre, She Will Not Stray
My Pilgrimage … Thru Deep, Dark Space
With Silver-Wings and Beams, I Chase
The Unknown and Known Questions Raised
Will Be Answered, When The Maker Says …
My Pilgrimage … To Touch Heaven’s Face
That Beauteous, Elusive, Mysterious Trace
Borne At The Blessed-Beginning’s Base
My Pilgrimage … Takes Me There To Pray …
My Pilgrimage … Takes Me There To Pay –
My Vows, My Voice, In Vesper-Vase
As This Moon, Is In Harvest – Phase
And Beams Brighter Now … Tho’ Slanted-Gaze
… The Moon … Glowing Ochre-Gold Or Silver
The Moon … Is Making Pilgrimage, Remember
The Moon … Is Trying To Help Deliver
Lost-Souls, Who Can Not Find … Moon River …
… Moon’s Pilgrimage … Keeps Steady Pace
Even Climbing Thru Dense, Cloudy-Lace
Moon’s Pilgrimage … Is Like A Dance, That Sways
Moon’s Pilgrimage … Into The Night’s Embrace … …
(… and A Pilgrim’s Lips, Will Bring An Eclipse Soon –
In A Pilgrimage – Across The Moon …)
poem by MoonBee Canady
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A Sweet Peal
Her beauty and her love lay on the bed,
Of her sweet peal of the glowing lovely breasts;
The kisses of this night will always be remembered.
She is delicate, soft and intense;
Mixed with fresh odour from her muse,
And like the sweet peal anew on a hot summer night.
The sprout of love in her room and,
In her garden of love i do sleep all night;
And of her joy in the light of the gentle sun,
But the sensitive plant in her garden of love matters to me.
Of the power of love in this sweet place,
And of her sweet peal of the glowing lovely breasts;
But like young lovers filled with the mutual atmosphere.
Alone in this sweet glory land,
And of her love like a sea-flower unfold;
But naked and bare from the frozen air,
And so pleasant to a taste if one considers it.
The lady's gentle mind,
And of where nothing is but all seems to be well;
Cold and foul and deep and low!
Lonely as a deep sleep on the blue surface of love;
And woken with the summer dreams of love,
Oh my sweet wide west-wind!
Come closer to us to take us afar.
The blue Mediterranean where she lay is the love of hope,
And of the horizon of her love to the zenith's height!
And like the locks of the approaching storm to meet at last.
For her love is in the beauty of her delight,
Heavy and very slow to the muse that muses;
But her beauty and her love lay bare on the bed,
And like black rains and white rains!
But i will kiss her until she's worn out like the spirits of the night.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Renunciation
ROSE of the desert of my heart,
Moon of the night that is my soul,
Thou can'st not know how sweet thou art,
Nor what wild tides thy beams control.
For all thy heart a garden is,
Thy soul is like a dawn of May.
And garden and dawn might both be his,
Who from them both must turn away.
Oh, garden of the Spring's delight!
Oh, dewy dawn of perfect noon!
I will not pluck thy roses white
Or warm thy May-time into June.
I can but bless thee, moon and rose,
And journey far and very far
To where the night no moonbeam shows,
To where no happy roses are!
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Cyrus In The Moonlight
Oh the hills are full of spirits
And they walk when night comes round
And they speak to who they choose to
When the moon is shining down
And ramona loves the orchard
And liza loves the pine
And cyrus in the moonlight
Loves the flowing of the wine
Oh cyrus trusts the spirits
And they fill his life with grace
Yeah the father of his fathers
Passed him down the gift of faith
And one night you might hear it
Like a wailing from above
Its just cyrus in the moonlight
Singing to the one he loves...
And the two girls start to dancing
When they hear that drunken voice
Thats when cyrus asks the moonlight
Do I have to make a choice
tween liza with her red hair
And ramona with her blues
And with all these gifts they bring me
Tell me how can I refuse
Well the hills are full of spirits
And they walk when night comes round
And they speak to who they choose to
When the moon is shining down
And ramona loves the orchard
And liza loves the pine
And cyrus in the moonlight
Loves the flowing of the wine
And one night you might hear it
Like a wailing from above
Its just cyrus in the moonlight
Singing to the one he loves...
song performed by by Cyndi Lauper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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