First Born
In the softly scented twilight,
walking slowly simply musing.
My thoughts turn to my hearts delight
she is sure now to be choosing.
Which young man she wants to marry
now she has become a woman.
Hopefully I am her quarry now
that she must chose her man.
Long dark hair which flows like water,
flashing eyes that hold the moonlight.
Running Elk the chieftains daughter
graceful as the swallows in flight.
She is full of joy and laughter,
she sings sweeter than the song birds
Can I win the chieftains daughter
may the Great Spirit hear my words.
Many moons now I have loved her
watched her grow into a beauty
Now the goddess’ hand has touched her,
she must do her sacred duty.
She is old enough now to wed.
She must choose her life’s companion
to share her tepee and her bed.
I long to be her chosen one.
I am proud with much to offer.
Doughty warrior, careful tracker.
I have much that I can proffer
defence from any attacker.
Great Manitou lend me your aid.
Guide her footsteps let her choose me
from all the braves who will parade
Let her heart see my honesty.
Make me show worthy in her eyes.
She is young and needs a husband
who know that he has gained the prize.
Fairest maiden of all this land.
Through the night I’m vigil keeping
praying to ancestral spirits
Whilst the other braves are sleeping.
Night long prayers can bring benefits.
In the morning as the dawn breaks.
Tribal elders call the young men
from their beds as the camp awakes.
To let the maidens look again.
Each young warrior wears a brave face
Hoping he is the chosen one
Now each young maiden takes her place
their faces set as cast in stone.
Will she chose me I must wonder.
If I find favour in her eyes,
she’ll lead me to the forest yonder.
Where we may enter paradise.
Be still my heart let not your thunder
sound so loudly. I must appear
indifferent as I wonder.
Though I can feel her drawing near.
Her soft strong hand encloses mine
Running Elk the chieftains daughter
has chosen me so she is mine
We walk away midst peals of laughter
quickly towards the forest grove
There in the quiet of the trees
we can enjoy our new sprung love
Caressed by sunlight and the breeze.
For one full moon we need not be
concerned with any other thing.
For one full moon we are quite free.
She is my queen and I am king.
But then we must rejoin the tribe
take up our duties separate
As tribal customs all prescribe
as married man and chosen mate,
Though presently we do not care
lost in love and burning need.
We live on love and dine on air
in this we are firmly agreed.
When the moon is full we will go
back to the camp to our tepee
and let her loving kinfolk know
that she has chosen happily.
We will maintain our dignity
at least in public where we’re seen
But in our tepee privately
I will still treat her as my queen.
Although the tribal laws dictate
a wife must meekly serve her lord.
I see no need to dominate
I’ll let her have the final word.
For I have observed carefully
the way my older kinfolks live
and those who live in harmony.
Know when to take and when to give.
My Running Elk is my delight
and I provide for her the best
WE work by day and love by night,
we know by heaven we are blessed.
Beneath her heart a new life thrives
a mutual product of our love
A treasure to complete our lives
A sign of favour from above
The first born of our family
The chieftain takes it in his stride
Her mother tells us privately
That he is swollen up with pride.
Her mother well advises her
what she must and must not do
As she makes clothes of softest fur
to fit the babe that is soon due.
But as me I’m terrified
I would rather face a bear.
She brushes all my fears aside
and tells me that I won’t be there.
Some things men aren’t allowed to see
At child birth the old women rule
and I agree wholeheartedly.
Because I am frightened fool.
But when he’s here I’ll play my part
and teach him everything I know.
Make sure he has the finest start
of any child and watch him grow.
My wife’s convinced it will be a she.
She says the goddess told her so.
It matters not we both agree
for in due course we’ll get to know
I am a man I have a wife
I am as happy as can be.
Together we created life
that I await impatiently.
My Running Elk just laughs at me.
She says she must do all the work
In nurturing the life to be
while I just wear a silly smirk
As if was all down to me
I did my bit I did my best
and she conceived triumphantly.
I think I passed my manhood test.
I’m what a proper man should be
I am so proud that I could burst
My Running Elk indulges me.
All men are proudest of their first.
Nine moons have passed this was the last.
Now I am banished from my tent.
I sweat and bid the time go fast.
I cannot rest til news is sent.
Have I a daughter or a son
and is my Running Elk alright.
The babes arrived the battle’s won.
Just as the morning star shines bright.
Now Running Elk must have her rest
and I am not allowed to see
the babe that’s suckling at her breast.
Until my sweetheart calls for me
To thank her for this wondrous gift.
the pain she underwent for me.
I feel my lowered spirits lift
I hear her calling come and see.
I go to her and hold her hand.
My son is sleeping peacefully.
I cannot speak I simply stand
and gaze upon my family.
My heart is full she understands
she reads me like an open book.
My son she places in my hands
I stand amazed and thunderstruck
A sturdy boy, his shock of hair
as shiny as a ravens wing
I cannot say how much I
but she can hear she’s listening.
The hymn of praise which my heart sings
will tell her all she longs to hear
To me our son a king of kings
and she the dearest of the dear.
My mind replays the day she chose.
I was afraid that she would not
and somehow even this she knows
but is still pleased with what she got.
She is much more than I deserve
although she won’t agree with this.
For all my life I’ll gladly serve
my family for her sweet kiss.
She knows my love will never fade
that I will love her faithfully
She knows I loved her as a maid
and that’s the reason she chose me.
She bids me go and get some sleep
she knows the vigil that I kept.
Our love is strong enough to keep
and words must wait until we’ve slept.
I go my way and find a bed
I close my eyes and know no more.
When I awake the sun is red
and night is falling fast once more.
Tonight I sleep in my own bed
beside the wife that I adore
My son will sleep beside her head.
What man could ask for any more.
(Revised Sep 07)
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Initiate
Initiate
The time has come for me to seek
the advice of my ancestors.
To take to heart the words they speak
which will reveal my future course.
I have my knife I have my bow
and that is all I am allowed
The time is now I have to go
Until my totem is endowed.
I have to learn to recognise
my totem by his qualities.
Though he conceals them from mens eyes..
True understanding is the prize.
A lot depends on what he sees.
The part of him that dwells in me.
Subjects me to deep scrutinies
Which I must face I cannot flee..
I walk the wilderness alone
I catch and kill the food I need
and for each life I must atone.
As I was taught this is my creed.
I do not fear the solitude
Although I miss my family
I have the correct attitude
I know enough to wait and see.
The first night passes quietly
I rise at dawn salute the sun.
I watch and wait respectfully
but wonder in my heart which one.
Which creature will decide to be
the totem that I’m here to find.
The spirit creatures are quite free
to read the thoughts I have in mind.
The second night I cannot sleep
I pass the dark hours listening
to the night predators who creep
about my shelter foraging.
Again I rise up with the sun.
Then suddenly I see a bear
I have no doubt he is the one
whos taken me into his care.
I look at him he looks at me
He seems to be well satisfied
and off he trundles clumsily.
A totem I accept with pride.
The bear has freely chosen me.
I had no say it was his choice
I return home triumphantly
and with my family rejoice.
I must give up my boyhood name.
Now that I have become a man.
The Shaman plays his sacred game
The spirits tell him that he can.
Leave the choice of name to me.
The elders of the tribe confer
But they accept eventually.
I choose the name of Little Bear.
I am a full fledged warrior now.
No longer just a little boy
I freely let the teardrops flow
an outward sign of my great joy.
I am a man and take my place
amongst the older wiser men.
I passed the test without disgrace
A test I need not take again.
In due course I will earn respect
But I must act respectfully.
Towards my elders who expect
that I will listen carefully.
As I am taught the tribal lore
they have stored in their memory.
The things they could not teach before
my totem bear had chosen me..
4-Apr-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Darling I Love You Like A Lily Among The Thorns
Darling I love you with all of my heart and soul
Much more than any of God's blessings on Earth.
It's hard to believe Heaven planned it this way
For your love for me is far beyond my worth.
Life would be meaningless without your love
With no one to cherish, honor, protect and provide.
I treasure our moments and all that we share
You're always my angel of love, at my side.
I love how you love me beyond all compare
I've never seen anyone so wonderful so long.
I can't help but love you absolutely and completely
For every time I think of you my heart sings a song.
Every night before sleep I say thank you to Heaven
For the past day I was allowed to love you and serve.
And if I awake I say thank you once more
For God has blessed me far beyond what I deserve.
ESTHER'S LOVE
Esther of God's Bible became a king's queen
Risking all for the sake of love.
She saved her people form total extinction
By responding to her call from above.
All through history just like Esther
Ladies have pledged to protect and serve.
They love, honor, defend and provide
And it's our admiration they've earned and deserve.
What would life be without a woman's love
Meaningless, lonely, purposeless and sad.
When your blessed by an Esther love her in return
And be sure to let God know you're thankful and glad.
LIKE A LILY AMONG THE THORNS
Like a lily among the thorns,
So are you among the rest.
Your love is my joy of life
Which by God's grace is the best.
When I sleep my heart is awake
It is the vice of love within.
By day or night I seek your love
My life mate, my partner, my friend.
You ravish my heart with just one look
When I'm less than you desire.
Your eyes speak without words
As displeasure kindles your fire.
You're beautiful and extraordinary
Like a fragrant flower from the wild.
I dream of the day you softly whisper
'My love, I carry your child.'
The vines put forth their tender grapes
The fig tree her sweet fruit of life.
My love for you is everlasting
As you nourish my need for a wife.
God gave man a woman to adore
And a woman a man to respect.
God gave us children we love till death
To provide for, cherish and protect.
Until its dawn and the shadows flee
I will hold you close and ponder
Our life together past and present
And may our future be blessed by wonder.
Tom Zart Love Poems
MY WILD ROSE
You 're the full moon of my nights
And the sunshine of my day
Like a queen upon her throne
You rule what I do and say.
It's God who makes us beautiful
And the Devil who makes us mean
It all depends on whom we follow
Which way our lives shall lean.
With one foot in the future
And one foot in the past
Let us try to live our days
As though each was our last.
You're the wild rose of my life
My flower of desire
Made by God for me alone
Out of earth, stars and fire.
ESTHER'S LOVE
Esther of God's Bible became a king's queen
Risking all for the sake of love.
She saved her people form total extinction
By responding to her call from above.
All through history just like Esther
Ladies have pledged to protect and serve.
They love, honor, defend and provide
And it's our admiration they've earned and deserve.
What would life be without a woman's love
Meaningless, lonely, purposeless and sad.
When your blessed by an Esther love her in return
And be sure to let God know you're thankful and glad.
EYES OF LOVE
A mind may see a thousand eyes
Though the heart yearns for two
When the eyes we love have up and gone
To the arms of someone new.
Eyes that twinkle, I distrust
For they are the distant stars.
Eyes in love have a steady glow
Like Venus, the Moon or Mars.
Eyes of love, like planets at night
Use borrowed light to shine.
Eyes are the living lenses
To the camera of our mind.
Eyes tend to believe themselves
Like the blind love of mothers.
Eyes speak without words
To the hearts and souls of others.
LOVE
No rope or cable can hold so tight
What love can do with twine.
No kiss can taste so bittersweet
As the one which captures our mind.
The first sign of love is the last of wisdom
As eager hearts fulfill desire.
Love is just a staple of life
Though heaven sparks the fire.
Heaven knows no rage like love
Once to hatred it has turned.
How wise are we who are such fools
Who forget the lessons we've learned.
Love, indeed, descends from heaven
Like a shooting star across the sky.
Love sometimes stirs the dust,
Till tears fall free from the eye.
DARLING I LOVE YOU
Darling I love you with all of my heart and soul
Much more than any of God's blessings on Earth.
It's hard to believe Heaven planned it this way
For your love for me is far beyond my worth.
Life would be meaningless without your love
With no one to cherish, honor, protect and provide.
I treasure our moments and all that we share
You're always my angel of love, at my side.
I love how you love me beyond all compare
I've never seen anyone so wonderful so long.
I can't help but love you absolutely and completely
For every time I think of you my heart sings a song.
Every night before sleep I say thank you to Heaven
For the past day I was allowed to love you and serve.
And if I awake I say thank you once more
For God has blessed me far beyond what I deserve.
Sonnets XCIX: C: Newborn Death
I
To-day Death seems to me an infant child
Which her worn mother Life upon my knee
Has set to grow my friend and play with me;
If haply so my heart might be beguil'd
To find no terrors in a face so mild,—
If haply so my weary heart might be
Unto the newborn milky eyes of thee,
O Death, before resentment reconcil'd.
How long, O Death? And shall thy feet depart
Still a young child's with mine, or wilt thou stand
Fullgrown the helpful daughter of my heart,
What time with thee indeed I reach the strand
Of the pale wave which knows thee what thou art,
And drink it in the hollow of thy hand?
II
And thou, O Life, the lady of all bliss,
With whom, when our first heart beat full and fast,
I wandered till the haunts of men were pass'd,
And in fair places found all bowers amiss
Till only woods and waves might hear our kiss,
While to the winds all thought of Death we cast:—
Ah, Life! and must I have from thee at last
No smile to greet me and no babe but this?
Lo! Love, the child once ours; and Song, whose hair
Blew like a flame and blossomed like a wreath;
And Art, whose eyes were worlds by God found fair:
These o'er the book of Nature mixed their breath
With neck-twined arms, as oft we watched them there:
And did these die that thou mightst bear me Death?
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Time Changes Everything
The things that can change over the countless years
Thoughts and emotions that I always feel
The things I do overcoming my many fears
Loving the one person I hold so dear
The future left open for me to mold
Making the ideal life i want so much
A simple love we can surely behold
And in my heart your simple caressing touch
My mind of thoughts with hopes running wild
My feelings of love now completely sealed
Because now I'm no longer a young child
No longer running in an open field
My love will stay everlasting and strong
As endless and full as my life long song.
poem by Natalie Austin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Wife
at the night seems long, wondering
mind calls for a solitude, where the heart
felt the emptiness of the soul
each birth calls every memory to live
and begin the unending journey of the heart
where each moment lives what the immortality
of destiny calls
dare not to face the bright moonlight shadow
of where it started to grow and bloom, the
innocent child flourish in thy love abode in
the mother’s womb of thy father's lap
hold on to the sweat that goes, for labor stand
in the kittle pot amidst the burning sun of the
skin makes it fun, happy as it could be in the
lingering hand as the children grown
now the day has ended, as sun has shown the
reflected wrinkles in the moonlight face of the
beautiful Maria in the homeless dress as the
party goes, late comes near in the ageless
bacon of love
solemnly it face the beauty that exist in the past
as it request the best that our naked eyes had
profess, thank you that you came in my light you
bring the moonlight night a sky as so bright
for you are the sun shine of my life
you are a wife who came and live my life so bright
till you will be my wife through out eternity
poem by Antonio Liao
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Our child once grown
What if my wife revealed that she was pregnant by me?
However, what if our child one day chose simply not to believe?
In nine months and eighteen years, I need to answer this question.
Nine months for God and my wife to give birth to the little one.
Eighteen year for us to train them in the way that they should go.
But, it is our child choice in whom to believe once grown and outside our front door.
At home, our child shall be instructed about the consequences of their sin.
Our child will understand the punishment of God for sin in the end.
I will train our child up in the Godly way that they should always go.
I will show them the love of the wonderful God I personally know.
Once grown, by us, our child shall be shown how to live life righteously.
Regardless in whom they believe, they will always be our child to me.
How would I feel if in spite of everything I taught and showed our child?
Our child decided, once grown, to take another way in life for a while.
Although taught while young not to steal; once grown they stole any way.
Although taught while young not to lie; once grown they lied every day.
Would I abandon them as quickly as the rest of the world?
Would they still be the prized apple of your heart and still be daddy’s little boy or girl?
Still, there is always a chance our child might choose in God not to believe.
If our child does, it is not because of the lack of the right instructions from me.
I will love our child even if by their life they chose not to follow God.
Because no matter what our child is an important part of my heart.
In who to continue to believe that major choice of life shall be their own.
But, they are still our child though they choose not to believe or act right once grown.
poem by Reginald Walker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Reasons
Living on the streets of nowhere
Nobody understands and nobody cares
Nobody Listens, so who can I tell my life is just a living hell
I'm going back and forth no one to turn to
Slowly losing my mind so what am I doin'
If you could only see the pain and hurt in my soul
But you don't understand me so how could you know
Sometimes it gets so bad I think I'm losing it
Can't get a hand out of life so I'm losing my grip
And when you lose your grip, then you begin to slip
Death is just waiting one to trip
Heading down the path to nowhere
No one can hear me, 'cause nobody's there
Life gets darker and there's no light at all
When the ways of this world just prepare me for the fall
What can I do, what can I say
I don't know love, only hate
What would you do if you were mep
I guess you'll never know
How would it feel to walk in my shoes
A victim of this world only used and abused
Trapped in a box with the walls coming down on me
Suffocated by my sin, it keeps drowning me
They say they know how I feel
Let's end it all, right now, that's how I feel
Don't have a care in the world, life means nothing
Don't look back, don't look back, just keep running
Run - Keep running
Run - Keep running
How long, o Lord?
Will you forget me forever?
How long will you hide your face from me?
How long must I wrestle with my thoughts
And everyday have sorrow in my heart
How long will my enemy triumph over me?
Look on me and answer, o Lord my God
Give light to my eyes or I will sleep in death
My enemy, will say "I have overcome him"
And my foes rejoice when I fall
But I still believe in you Lord
And I know that you're real, you're so real Lord
Come and take me away from this place Lord
Everyday I will follow and seek your face Lord
But I trust in your unfailing love
My heart rejoices in your salvation
I will sing to you my Lord
For he has been, for he has been
Good to me
You're the one who rescued me
And you're the one who set me free
I kept on running, but there's nowhere to hide
You took me in with your arms open wide
You loved me first when no one else would
You died for me so I give my life to you
False hopes and lies
But you're the one who's next time I run
I'm running straight to you
song performed by by P.O.D.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Beauty Of My Daughter
My daughter is God's gift to me,
Her father in the Lord.
She's my great joy, my ecstacy,
My loving God's reward.
She stands alone in her own faith,
The gift God gave to her,
From Christ the Saviour, strong to save,
Our Jesus, Yeshua...
My daughter prays by day and night,
Although some choose to laugh.
For me, such prayers are my delight
And may God light her path.
I've seen my daughter grow and grow,
This rose before my eyes.
I thank God for each truth she'll know
From God alone, who's wise.
She trusts God's Son once sacrificed...
Round to its point of view.
The Spirit who was once in Christ,
Lives in my daughter, too.
My daughter's taught God's prophecies
Are true in every part.
She's learnt that life's great mysteries
Are found within Christ's heart.
She's born of God, she's born again,
She's living in His grace.
She walks in light before all men,
Yet always seeks His face.
The Way of the Master blesses!
So many souls are won!
More blessed if each confesses
Salvation in God's Son!
Through discipline, disciples teach.
We train a child with love.
My daughter's love helps her to preach
And reach out like a dove.
I'm proud of her! She seeks the lost!
She witnesses worldwide...
The Bible matters! Count the cost
When Christ was crucified...
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Keep On Running
Some gonna get you
Some gonna grab you
Some gonna jump out of the bushes and grab you
Whole lotta folks, you better run faster.
Some gonna grab you
Some gonna jump out of the bushes and grab you
Some gonna grab you
Oh you need this thing to grab you, ha.
Yea, yea
Keep on running
Keep on running from my love
Keep on running, yea
Keep on running from my love
Some folks say that youre really, really fine,
All you want to be is just a friend of mine,
But I know, the man your with gonna break your heart,
And youll be sad real soon, yea.
Keep on running,
Keep on running from my love,
Keep on running, yea,
Keep on running from my love.
Some folks say that youre really, really fine
But all you want to be is just a friend of mine,
But I know Im gonna get you with him -real soon.
Why do you keep?
Keep on running, running from my love
Yea, keep on running from
Keep on running, running from my love
I need you baby
Keep on running, running from my love
And everyday yea,
Keep on running, running from my love. oh
Keep on running
Keep on running from my love
Keep on running yea
Keep on running from my love
Some folks say that your love is really good
All you want to be is just a friend of mine,
But I know, Im gonna get you in the end
cause I need you so
Keep on running
Keep on running, running from my love
Yea, keep on running baby
Keep on running, running from my love, yea
Keep on running, running from my love
Keep on running, running from my love
...say it loud
Keep on running, running from my love
Oh, yea
Keep on running, running from my love
...say it loud
Keep on running, running from my love
Something gonna get you, yea
Keep on running, running from my love
You can get it baby in my love
Keep on running, running from my love
Oh, yea say
Keep on running, running from my love
Sing I love you so
Keep on running, running from my love
Sing, so
Keep on running, running from my love
Sing a little song for me
Keep on running, running from my love
Baby, you can bring me love
Keep on running, running from my love
I wanna hear
Keep on running, running from my love
Yea,
Keep on running, running from my love
Everybody sing it with me, yea
Keep on running, running from my love
Somes gonna grab you
Keep on running, running from my love
Somes gonna jump out of the bushes and grab you, yea
Keep on running, running from my love
Keep on running baby
Keep on running, running from my love
Oh, yea yea, yea, yea, yea, yea, yea, yea
Keep on running, running from my love
This is it
Keep on running, running from my love
Hey, hey, hey
Hey, hey, hey
Hey, hey, hey
Hey, hey, hey
Keep on running
Keep on running, running from my love
Yea, yea,
Keep on running, running from my love
Im getting tired of you running
Keep on running, running from my love
Can you feel it in the shoe babe?
Keep on running, running from my love
Na, na, na, na, na, na, na.
Keep on running, running from my love
Hey, hey
Keep on running, running from my love
Baby, baby, baby, baby, baby, baby, mama, mama, mama
Keep on running, running from my love
song performed by by Stevie Wonder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'm Running Out Of Time
I'm running out of time
I'm as low as i can get.
I'm running out of time
No-ones noticed yet!
I'm running out of time
To face my fears and lies.
I'm running out of time
To say all my goodbyes.
I'm running out of time
To tell him how i feel.
I'm running out of time
This love, it makes me ill.
I'm running out of time
To achieve something in my life.
I'm running out of time
To be a mother or a wife.
I'm running out of time
I cant trust anymore.
I'm running out of time
I'm now running out the door! ! !
poem by Katy Allen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'm running out of time
I'm running out of time
I'm as low as i can get.
I'm running out of time
No-ones noticed yet!
I'm running out of time
To face my fears and lies.
I'm running out of time
To say all my goodbyes.
I'm running out of time
To tell him how i feel.
I'm running out of time
This love, it makes me ill.
I'm running out of time
To achieve something in my life.
I'm running out of time
To be a mother or a wife.
I'm running out of time
I cant trust anymore.
I'm running out of time
I'm now running out the door! ! !
poem by Stephanie Byrne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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At A Funeral
I loved her too, this woman who is dead.
Look in my face. I have a right to go
And see the place where you have made her bed
Among the snow.
I loved her too whom you are burying.
I have a right to stand beside her bier,
And to my handful of the dust I fling,
That she may hear.
I loved her; and it was not for the eyes
Which you have shut, nor for her yellow hair,
Nor for the face which in your bosom lies.
Let it lie there!
Nor for the wild--birds' music of her voice,
Which we shall hear in dreams till we too sleep;
Nor for the rest, which made the world rejoice,
The angels weep.
It was not for the payment of sweet love,
Though love is often straitened for a kiss,
Nor for the hope of other joys above,
But only this,
That she had laid her hand upon my heart
Once in the summer time when we were young,
And that her finger--tips had left a smart,
And that my tongue
Had spoken words which might not be unspoken
Lest they should make a by--word of love's truth,
And I had sworn that love should be the token
Of my youth.
And so I gave her all, and long ago
The treasure of my youth was put in pawn;
And she was little richer that I know
When that was gone.
But I have lived a beggar since that day
And hide my face it may be from men's eyes;
For often I have seen them shrink away,
As in surprise
That such a loathsome cripple should be found
To walk abroad in daylight with the rest,
And scarce a rag to cover up the wound
Upon his breast.
Yet no man stopped to ask how this might be,
Or I had scared them, and let loose my tongue,
How I had bought myself this misery
When I was young.
Yet I have loved her. This must be my pay,
The pension I have earned me with these tears;
The right to kneel beside her grave to--day,
Despite these years,
With all her kisses burning on my cheek,
As when I left her and our love was dead,
And our lips trembled though they did not speak,
The night I fled;
The right to bid you stand aside, nor be
A witness of our meeting. Did you love
In joy as I have loved in misery?
You did not prove
Your love was stronger than the strength of death,
Or she had never died upon your hand.
I would have fed her breathing with my breath;
I would have fanned
A living wind of Heaven to her lips;
I would have stolen life from Paradise.
And she is dead, and you have seen eclipse
Within those eyes.
If I could know that you had loved her well;
If I could hold it for a certainty
That you had sold your life as I did sell;
If I could see
The blackness of your soul, and with my tongue
Taste the full bitterness of tears unshed;
If I should find your very heart was wrung
And maimed and dead;
If I should feel your hand's grasp crumble mine,
And hug the pain when I should grasp in turn;
If I could dip my fingers in the brine
Of eyes that burn;
If I could hear your voice call back the dead
With such a mighty cry of agony
That she should turn and listen in the bed
Where she doth lie,
And all the heavens should together roll,
Thinking they heard the angel's trumpet tone,
I could forget it that you bought a soul
Which was my own;
I could forget that she forgot her vows,
That aught was bartered for the wealth of love;
I could untell the story of my woes,
Till God above
Should hold her guiltless and condone the wrong
Done to His justice; I could take your hand
And call you brother, as we went along
To take our stand
Before His judgment--seat with her again
Where we are hurrying,--for we could not keep
Our place unchallenged in the ranks of men
Who do not weep.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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As a World Would Have It
ALCESTIS
Shall I never make him look at me again?
I look at him, I look my life at him,
I tell him all I know the way to tell,
But there he stays the same.
Shall I never make him speak one word to me?
Shall I never make him say enough to show
My heart if he be glad? Be glad? … ah! God,
Why did they bring me back?
I wonder, if I go to him again,
If I take him by those two cold hands again,
Shall I get one look of him at last, or feel
One sign—or anything?
Or will he still sit there in the same way,
Without an answer for me from his lips,
Or from his eyes,—or even with a touch
Of his hand on my hand?…
“Will you look down this once—look down at me?
Speak once—and if you never speak again,
Tell me enough—tell me enough to make
Me know that you are glad!
“You are my King, and once my King would speak:
You were Admetus once, you loved me once:
Life was a dream of heaven for us once—
And has the dream gone by?
“Do I cling to shadows when I call you Life?
Do you love me still, or are the shadows all?
Or is it I that love you in the grave,
And you that mourn for me?
“If it be that, then do not mourn for me;
Be glad that I have loved you, and be King.
But if it be not that—if it be true …
Tell me if it be true!”
Then with a choking answer the King spoke;
But never touched his hand on hers, or fixed
His eyes on hers, or on the face of her:
“Yes, it is true,” he said.
“You are alive, and you are with me now;
And you are reaching up to me that I—
That I may take you—I that am a King—
I that was once a man."
So then she knew. She might have known before;
Truly, she thought, she must have known it long
Before: she must have known it when she came
From that great sleep of hers.
She knew the truth, but not yet all of it:
He loved her, but he would not let his eyes
Prove that he loved her; and he would not hold
His wife there in his arms.
So, like a slave, she waited at his knees,
And waited. She was not unhappy now.
She quivered, but she knew that he would speak
Again—and he did speak.
And while she felt the tremor of his words,
He told her all there was for him to tell;
And then he turned his face to meet her face,
That she might look at him.
She looked; and all her trust was in that look,
And all her faith was in it, and her love;
And when his answer to that look came back,
It flashed back through his tears.
So then she put her arms around his neck,
And kissed him on his forehead and his lips;
And there she clung, fast in his arms again,
Triumphant, with closed eyes.
At last, half whispering, she spoke once more:
“Why was it that you suffered for so long?
Why could you not believe me—trust in me?
Was I so strange as that?
“We suffer when we do not understand;
And you have suffered—you that love me now—
Because you are a man.… There is one thing
No man can understand.
“I would have given everything?—gone down
To Tartarus—to silence? Was it that?
I would have died? I would have let you live?—
And was it very strange?”
poem by Edwin Arlington Robinson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Father –in-law’s and mother-in- law’s daughter is a daughter-in-law
Father –in-law’s and mother-in- law’s daughter is a daughter-in-law
In the long and short journey of life one has to read the same law,
Even the daughter-in-law should not treat with them just like a saw,
She must think that her husband’s parents are like her own parents,
Action and reaction we can see soon infront of our eyes and mind,
And every one has his or her law and so let us always live by a law,
A good son-in-law does not deserve for any kind of dowry to find,
He too considers that his wife’s parents are just like his own parents,
A daughter is born in her own family and lives in the another family,
All will weep to see the changes of her life from the starting to an end,
If that new family members are good for her she lives very happily,
Otherwise in every walk of her life she suffers and herself will tend,
All daughters have to face and face to cross the same path of life,
The Nature itself will pity on them to see their difficulty of life’s strife.
poem by INDIA Mazid S Kazi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Unspoken Heart Song
Subtle notes fly upon the breeze, notes coming from a guitar of the night.
The guitar plays sweetly for its master, for its gentle master.
The master is a young man, trying to find himself.
A young man with eyes full of care, behind these fair eyes a heart full of love.
You can hear his heart’s song on the breeze, for he plays from his heart.
His eyes meet mine, and I cannot help but feel at peace, the song makes my heart hum with delight.
I can feel the love held inside him, even though he does not play for me.
He is playing the same song that plays in the heart of his darling; his song is calling to her.
“Come home, come home to me darling. I am calling you, can’t you hear me? ”
Is the unspoken song on the breeze.
poem by Tolly Rebeka Christian BlackWolf Hawk
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Broken Chances
My Love,
I don't know how you're going to get this,
But it is my last word on this Earth.
Just what ever you do sit alone and read this.
I want you to be at the lake where you gave me my first kiss,
I want you to sit by the tree that held us, and read this.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You were my love, my only one person who always made me smile,
You held my hand through so many things, so many firsts.
You were my light you were my smile
And you told me the three deadly words,
The words that always kill, but first make you smile.
I have sewed my mouth shut, so you will never see me smile.
I would melt at the sound of your voice,
I would just sit and listen just to know you were really there,
I would call when you weren't home, just to hear your voice.
My wish every day was to hear you say 'I love you',
To hear your voice.
I have glued my ears so I don't have to listen to your lies.
I remember the feeling of your hands running through my hair,
You'd weave your fingers through it to comfort me,
Sometimes I would act sad just to feel your fingers in my hair,
I would silently smile and melt in your arms.
I remember your fingers running through my blond hair.
I have cut my hair so I can never remember that feeling.
U can see you standing looking at me with your sparkling eyes,
I always see you,
I can never see past those deep eyes,
I can see you smile at me, see your hands reach for mine.
I can still see your eyes.
I have cut my eyes out so I can never again fall into your deceiving eyes.
You made my heart race with butterflies, with hope.
I gave you my heart to keep, you said you'd never break it,
You gave me the one thing i needed ti keep going; hope.
And I fell for the traps, I gave you EVERYTHING.
I ave you all the hope I held in my heart, my soul.
I have stabbed my heart, just so you can't shatter what's already broken.
You became my life, you became my love, my everything.
No matter what happened I still loved you,
And no matter what I tried to give you everything,
And you made me loose so much that I'm left with nothing,
And with my dying breath I give you what was all I had left, my everything.
I take my life to show you what love really means, that it's not the lie you told.
I may not be able to smile when you hold me,
I may not be able to hear your words even if their truth,
I may not be able to remember you soothing touch, or your warmth,
I mat not be able to see your eyes, or your reaching hands,
I may not be able to press my beating heart against your skin,
I may not be able to give you a second chance, for like my heart it is broken,
But After the pain and lies, I believe in what I felt for you,
And hope maybe someday you'll believe the same, and find beauty from pain
Even with nothing left to give you but my word, I breath my last breath for you.
I lay in silence to let you live, to give to you a broken second chance,
For I will always love you,
Be............
by: Bethany Maxwell =)
poem by Bethany Maxwell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hey Love
words & music by jason mraz
Hey love, where you going to?
You're not sleeping anymore, you're just trying to.
Stay love, where you running to?
Awful happens all the time, don't let it kill you.
Easily with me I feel as fast as I can see..
Afraid of the horror stories I fall down on my knees.
Come away, come away
From all these things unheard
If a chosen word has got you cornered
Then it's a lesson learned
Like close the book before it burns you.
Come away, come away
From all these things unseen
At the price you paid I promise you won't believe anything they say
Belief will only disappoint you
In case you never noticed the path you never chose has chosen you.
Afraid to face and break it.
The secret
song performed by by Jason Mraz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The legend of qu'appelle valley
I am the one who loved her as my life,
Had watched her grow to sweet young womanhood;
Won the dear privilege to call her wife,
And found the world, because of her, was good.
I am the one who heard the spirit voice,
Of which the paleface settlers love to tell;
From whose strange story they have made their choice
Of naming this fair valley the "Qu'Appelle."
She had said fondly in my eager ear--
"When Indian summer smiles with dusky lip,
Come to the lakes, I will be first to hear
The welcome music of thy paddle dip.
I will be first to lay in thine my hand,
To whisper words of greeting on the shore;
And when thou would'st return to thine own land,
I'll go with thee, thy wife for evermore."
Not yet a leaf had fallen, not a tone
Of frost upon the plain ere I set forth,
Impatient to possess her as my own--
This queen of all the women of the North.
I rested not at even or at dawn,
But journeyed all the dark and daylight through--
Until I reached the Lakes, and, hurrying on,
I launched upon their bosom my canoe.
Of sleep or hunger then I took no heed,
But hastened o'er their leagues of waterways;
But my hot heart outstripped my paddle's speed
And waited not for distance or for days,
But flew before me swifter than the blade
Of magic paddle ever cleaved the Lake,
Eager to lay its love before the maid,
And watch the lovelight in her eyes awake.
So the long days went slowly drifting past;
It seemed that half my life must intervene
Before the morrow, when I said at last--
"One more day's journey and I win my queen!"
I rested then, and, drifting, dreamed the more
Of all the happiness I was to claim,--
When suddenly from out the shadowed shore,
I heard a voice speak tenderly my name.
"Who calls?" I answered; no reply; and long
I stilled my paddle blade and listened. Then
Above the night wind's melancholy song
I heard distinctly that strange voice again--
A woman's voice, that through the twilight came
Like to a soul unborn--a song unsung.
I leaned and listened--yes, she spoke my name,
And then I answered in the quaint French tongue,
"Qu'Appelle? Qu'Appelle?" No answer, and the night
Seemed stiller for the sound, till round me fell
The far-off echoes from the far-off height--
"Qu'Appelle?" my voice came back, "Qu'Appelle? Qu'Appelle?"
This--and no more; I called aloud until
I shuddered as the gloom of night increased,
And, like a pallid spectre wan and chill,
The moon arose in silence in the east.
I dare not linger on the moment when
My boat I beached beside her tepee door;
I heard the wail of women and of men,--
I saw the death-fires lighted on the shore.
No language tells the torture or the pain,
The bitterness that flooded all my life,--
When I was led to look on her again,
That queen of women pledged to be my wife.
To look upon the beauty of her face,
The still closed eyes, the lips that knew no breath;
To look, to learn,--to realize my place
Had been usurped by my one rival--Death.
A storm of wrecking sorrow beat and broke
About my heart, and life shut out its light
Till through my anguish some one gently spoke,
And said, "Twice did she call for thee last night."
I started up--and bending o'er my dead,
Asked when did her sweet lips in silence close.
"She called thy name--then passed away," they said,
"Just on the hour whereat the moon arose."
Among the lonely Lakes I go no more,
For she who made their beauty is not there;
The paleface rears his tepee on the shore
And says the vale is fairest of the fair.
Full many years have vanished since, but still
The voyageurs beside the campfire tell
How, when the moonrise tips the distant hill,
They hear strange voices through the silence swell.
The paleface loves the haunted lakes they say,
And journeys far to watch their beauty spread
Before his vision; but to me the day,
The night, the hour, the seasons are all dead.
I listen heartsick, while the hunters tell
Why white men named the valley The Qu'Appelle.
poem by Emily Pauline Johnson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Happiest Girl in the World
A week ago; only a little week:
it seems so much much longer, though that day
is every morning still my yesterday;
as all my life 'twill be my yesterday,
for all my life is morrow to my love.
Oh fortunate morrow! Oh sweet happy love!
A week ago; and I am almost glad
to have him now gone for this little while,
that I may think of him and tell myself
what to be his means, now that I am his,
and know if mine is love enough for him,
and make myself believe it all is true.
A week ago; and it seems like a life,
and I have not yet learned to know myself:
I am so other than I was, so strange,
grown younger and grown older all in one;
and I am not so sad and not so gay;
and I think nothing, only hear him think.
That morning, waking, I remembered him
"Will he be here to-day? he often comes; --
and is it for my sake or to kill time?"
and, wondering "Will he come?" I chose the dress
he seemed to like the best, and hoped for him;
and did not think I could quite love him yet.
And did I love him then with all my heart?
or did I wait until he held my hands
and spoke "Say, shall it be?" and kissed my brow,
and I looked at him and he knew it all?
And did I love him from the day we met?
but I more gladly danced with some one else
who waltzed more smoothly and was merrier:
and did I love him when he first came here?
but I more gladly talked with some one else
whose words were readier and who sought me more.
When did I love him? How did it begin?
The small green spikes of snowdrops in the spring
are there one morning ere you think of them;
still we may tell what morning they pierced up:
June rosebuds stir and open stealthily,
and every new blown rose is a surprise;
still we can date the day when one unclosed:
but how can I tell when my love began?
Oh, was it like the young pale twilight star
that quietly breaks on the vacant sky,
is sudden there and perfect while you watch,
and, though you watch, you have not seen it dawn,
the star that only waited and awoke?
But he knows when he loved me; for he says
the first time we had met he told a friend
"The sweetest dewy daisy of a girl,
but not the solid stuff to make a wife;"
and afterwards the first time he was here,
when I had slipped away into our field
to watch alone for sunset brightening on
and heard them calling me, he says he stood
and saw me come along the coppice walk
beneath the green and sparkling arch of boughs,
and, while he watched the yellow lights that played
with the dim flickering shadows of the leaves
over my yellow hair and soft pale dress,
flitting across me as I flitted through,
he whispered inly, in so many words,
"I see my wife; this is my wife who comes,
and seems to bear the sunlight on with her:"
and that was when he loved me, so he says.
Yet is he quite sure? was it only then?
and had he had no thought which I could feel?
for why was it I knew that he would watch,
and all the while thought in my silly heart,
as I advanced demurely, it was well
I had on the pale dress with sweeping folds
which took the light and shadow tenderly,
and that the sunlights touched my hair and cheek,
because he'd note it all and care for it?
Oh vain and idle poor girl's heart of mine,
content with that coquettish mean content!
He, with his man's straight purpose, thinking "wife,"
and I but that 'twas pleasant to be fair
and that 'twas pleasant he should count me fair.
But oh, to think he should be loving me
and I be no more moved out of myself!
The sunbeams told him, but they told me nought,
except that maybe I was looking well.
And oh had I but known! Why did no bird,
trilling its own sweet lovesong, as I passed,
so musically marvellously glad,
sing one for me too, sing me "It is he,"
sing "Love him," and "You love him: it is he,"
that I might then have loved him when he loved,
that one dear moment might be date to both?
And must I not be glad he hid his thought
and did not tell me then, when it was soon
and I should have been startled, and not known
how he is just the one man I can love,
and, only with some pain lest he were pained,
and nothing doubting, should have answered "No."
How strange life is! I should have answered "No."
Oh, can I ever be half glad enough
he is so wise and patient and could wait!
He waited as you wait the reddening fruit
which helplessly is ripening on the tree,
and not because it tries or longs or wills,
only because the sun will shine on it:
but he who waited was himself that sun.
Oh was it worth the waiting? was it worth?
For I am half afraid love is not love,
this love which only makes me rest in him
and be so happy and so confident,
this love which makes me pray for longest days
that I may have them all to use for him,
this love which almost makes me yearn for pain
that I might have borne something for his sake,
this love which I call love, is less than love.
Where are the fires and fevers and the pangs?
where is the anguish of too much delight,
and the delirious madness at a kiss,
the flushing and the paling at a look,
and passionate ecstasy of meeting hands?
where is the eager weariness at time
that will not bate a single measured hour
to speed to us the far-off wedding day?
I am so calm and wondering, like a child
who, led by a firm hand it knows and trusts
along a stranger country beautiful
with a bewildering beauty to new eyes
if they be wise to know what they behold,
finds newness everywhere but no surprise,
and takes the beauty as an outward part
of being led so kindly by the hand.
I am so cold: is mine but a child's heart,
and not a woman's fit for such a man?
Alas am I too cold, am I too dull,
can I not love him as another could?
And oh, if love be fire, what love is mine
that is but like the pale subservient moon
who only asks to be earth's minister?
And, oh, if love be whirlwind, what is mine
that is but like a little even brook
which has no aim but flowing to the sea,
and sings for happiness because it flows?
Ah well, I would that I could love him more
and not be only happy as I am;
I would that I could love him to his worth,
with that forgetting all myself in him,
that subtle pain of exquisite excess,
that momentary infinite sharp joy,
I know by books but cannot teach my heart:
and yet I think my love must needs be love,
since he can read me through -- oh happy strange,
my thoughts that were my secrets all for me
grown instantly his open easy book! --
since he can read me through, and is content.
And yesterday, when they all went away,
save little Amy with her daisy chains,
and left us in that shadow of tall ferns,
and the child, leaning on me, fell asleep,
and I, tired by the afternoon long walk,
said "I could almost gladly sleep like her,"
did he not answer, drawing down my head,
"Sleep, darling, let me see you rest on me,"
and when the child, awaking, wakened me,
did he not say "Dear, you have made me glad,
for, seeing you so sleeping peacefully,
I feel that you do love me utterly,
no questionings, no regrettings, but at rest."
Oh yes, my good true darling, you spoke well
"No questionings, no regrettings, but at rest:"
what should I question, what should I regret,
now I have you who are my hope and rest?
I am the feathery wind-wafted seed
that flickered idly half a merry morn,
now thralled into the rich life-giving earth
to root and bud and waken into leaf
and make it such poor sweetness as I may;
the prisoned seed that never more shall float
the frolic playfellow of summer winds
and mimic the free changeful butterfly;
the prisoned seed that prisoned finds its life
and feels its pulses stir, and grows, and grows.
Oh love, who gathered me into yourself,
oh love, I am at rest in you, and live.
And shall I for so many coming days
be flower and sweetness to him? Oh pale flower,
grow, grow, and blossom out, and fill the air,
feed on his richness, grow, grow, blossom out,
and fill the air, and be enough for him.
Oh crystal music of the air-borne lark,
so falling, nearer, nearer, from the sky,
are you a message to me of dear hopes?
oh trilling gladness, flying down to earth,
have you brought answer of sweet prophecy?
have you brought answer to the thoughts in me?
Oh happy answer, and oh happy thoughts!
and which is the bird's carol, which my heart's?
My love, my love, my love! And I shall be
so much to him, so almost everything:
and I shall be the friend whom he will trust,
and I shall be the child whom he will teach,
and I shall be the servant he will praise,
and I shall be the mistress he will love,
and I shall be his wife. Oh days to come,
will ye not pass like gentle rhythmic steps
that fall to sweetest music noiselessly?
But I have known the lark's song half sound sad,
and I have seen the lake, which rippled sun,
toss dimmed and purple in a sudden wind;
and let me laugh a moment at my heart
that thinks the summer-time must all be fair,
that thinks the good days always must be good:
yes let me laugh a moment -- may be weep.
But no, but no, not laugh; for through my joy
I have been wise enough to know the while
some tears and some long hours are in all lives,
in every promised land some thorn plants grow,
some tangling weeds as well as laden vines:
and no, not weep; for is not my land fair,
my land of promise flushed with fruit and bloom?
and who would weep for fear of scattered thorns?
and very thorns bear oftentimes sweet fruits.
Oh the black storm that breaks across the lake
ruffles the surface, leaves the deeps at rest --
deep in our hearts there always will be rest:
oh summer storms fall sudden as they rose,
the peaceful lake forgets them while they die --
our hearts will always have it summer time.
All rest, all summer time. My love, my love,
I know it will be so; you are so good,
and I, near you, shall grow at last like you;
and you are tender, patient -- oh I know
you will bear with me, help me, smile to me,
and let me make you happy easily;
and I, what happiness could I have more
than that dear labour of a happy wife?
I would not have another. Is it wrong,
and is it selfish that I cannot wish,
that I, who yet so love the clasping hand
and innocent fond eyes of little ones,
I cannot wish that which I sometimes read
is women's dearest wish hid in their love,
to press a baby creature to my breast?
Oh is it wrong? I would be all for him,
not even children coming 'twixt us two
to call me from his service to serve them;
and maybe they would steal too much of love,
for, since I cannot love him now enough,
what would my heart be halved? or would it grow?
But he perhaps would love me something less,
finding me not so always at his side.
Together always, that was what he said;
together always. Oh dear coming days!
O dear dear present days that pass too fast,
although they bring such rainbow morrows on!
that pass so fast, and yet, I know not why,
seem always to encompass so much time.
And I should fear I were too happy now,
and making this poor world too much my Heaven,
but that I feel God nearer and it seems
as if I had learned His love better too.
So late already! The sun dropping down,
and under him the first long line of red --
my truant should be here again by now,
is come maybe. I will not seek him, I;
he would be vain and think I cared too much;
I will wait here, and he shall seek for me,
and I will carelessly -- Oh his dear step --
he sees me, he is coming; my own love!
poem by Augusta Davies Webster
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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