Reassurance
Across the water distantly.
I see lights bobbing on the sea,
the lanterns of the fishermen
appear and disappear again.
The fisher folk who work at night
take full advantage of the light.
The moon provides for them to see
and sing her praises gratefully.
Their women folk left on the shore
pray to the Goddess they adore.
To bring their men safe home again,
their voices join the men’s refrain.
They look to sea to see the glow
of lanterns passing to and fro.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Related quotes
The Discovery
THESE are the days of elfs and fays:
Who says that with the dreams of myth,
These imps and elves disport themselves?
Ah no, along the paths of song
Do all the tiny folk belong.
Round all our homes,
Kobolds and gnomes do daily cling,
Then nightly fling their lanterns out.
And shout on shout, they join the rout,
And sing, and sing, within the sweet enchanted ring.
Where gleamed the guile of moonlight's smile,
Once paused I, listening for a while,
And heard the lay, unknown by day, —
The fairies' dancing roundelay.
Queen Mab was there, her shimmering hair
Each fairy prince's heart's despair.
She smiled to see their sparkling glee,
And once I ween, she smiled at me.
Since when, you may by night or day,
Dispute the sway of elf-folk gay;
But, hear me, stay!
I've learned the way to find Queen Mab and elf and fay.
Where e'er by streams, the moonlight gleams,
Or on a meadow softly beams,
There, footing round on dew-lit ground,
The fairy folk may all be found.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Rain Along Shore
Wan white mists upon the sea,
East wind harping mournfully
All the sunken reefs along,
Wail and heart-break in its song,
But adown the placid bay
Fisher-folk keep holiday.
All the deeps beyond the bar
Call and murmur from afar,
'Plaining of a mighty woe
Where the great ships come and go,
But adown the harbor gray
Fisher-folk keep holiday.
When the cloudy heavens frown,
And the sweeping rain comes down,
Boats at anchorage must bide
In despite of time or tide;
Making merry as they may
Fisher-folk keep holiday.
Now is time for jest and song
All the idle shore along,
Now is time for wooing dear,
Maidens cannot choose but hear;
Daffing toil and care away
Fisher-folk keep holiday.
Oh, the fretted reefs may wail,
Every man has furled his sail!
Oh, the wind may moan in fear,
Every lad is with his dear!
Mirth and laughter have their way,
Fisher-folk keep holiday.
poem by Lucy Maud Montgomery
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The Fairy Folk
In the hollow of the oak,
Waiting patiently for night.
The fairy king and fairy folk,
Watch the quickly fading light.
Inside the giant oak they wait,
For their time will soon be here.
With the moon and mist they have a date,
To ride the moonbeams that they hold dear.
The night arrives and the fairies fly,
On golden moonbeams they spread their wings.
Joyously reaching for the sky,
Bringers of dreams and all good things.
The fairy king upon a limb,
Holds court for his subjects every night.
In a hidden corner where the moon is dim,
Till the early morning light.
Deep in the woods, round hollow logs,
Flying near the pond next to the oak.
Through cattails and ferns, playing with frogs,
Bringing joy to the forrest, fly the fairy folk.
If you walk in the woods, your eyes will see,
Their tiny lanterns glowing bright.
Flying on moonbeams forever free,
Illuminating the stygian night.
There really are fairies, without a doubt,
Just believe and they'll appear.
Just walk quietly don't scream or shout,
And you will see them flying near.
9/21/10 Alton Texas
poem by Juan Olivarez
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The glow in the fog and mist
The spectral glow of a bobbing lantern
As if tossed upon a stormy sea
Appearing..then fading anon, absorbed
In foggy essence, to fade again so feebly
Once more, ere sinking in finality
Into the quicksand of mist
Mere glow of candle, so dear to see
Seen now…then not, …with capricious twist
The spectral light, drifts through the night
As a ghost through fog and mist
Through ribs of rain, the tremulous light
Chills the brain, befogs the sight
Dimly lit, by lanterns in the mist
Dark clouds upon the soul this night
Fog is the dark abode of lost souls
Who wander without rest with lantern high
The mist, the breath, of hollow death
The fog, the food, on which to persist
Tis best my friend, not to be, nor ne'r to see….
The glow in the fog and mist
poem by David Whalen
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Clouds and Waves
Mother, the folk who live up in the clouds call out to me-
"We play from the time we wake till the day ends.
We play with the golden dawn, we play with the silver moon."
I ask, "But how am I to get up to you ?"
They answer, "Come to the edge of the earth, lift up your
hands to the sky, and you will be taken up into the clouds."
"My mother is waiting for me at home, "I say, "How can I leave
her and come?"
Then they smile and float away.
But I know a nicer game than that, mother.
I shall be the cloud and you the moon.
I shall cover you with both my hands, and our house-top will
be the blue sky.
The folk who live in the waves call out to me-
"We sing from morning till night; on and on we travel and know
not where we pass."
I ask, "But how am I to join you?"
They tell me, "Come to the edge of the shore and stand with
your eyes tight shut, and you will be carried out upon the waves."
I say, "My mother always wants me at home in the everything-
how can I leave her and go?"
They smile, dance and pass by.
But I know a better game than that.
I will be the waves and you will be a strange shore.
I shall roll on and on and on, and break upon your lap with
laughter.
And no one in the world will know where we both are.
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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Attitudes.
The moon sheds soft and silver light
upon the newly fallen snow
A master piece for our delight.
The city folk will never know.
The snow that falls on city streets.
Is all too soon polluted by
the footprints left by passing feet.
In cities different rules apply.
Country folk accept the snow
They know there’s little they can do
but wait. In time the snow must go.
Something to look forward to.
But city folk impatiently
Demand the streets should be snow free.
Wednesday,06 January 2010
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Welcoming The New Year
Up into the midnight air, Chinese lanterns lift;
Away, across the miles, they now silently drift.
I gaze up at their orange flickering lights,
Until they slowly disappear out of sight.
I stand on tiptoes at my bedroom window,
Intently watching this spectacular show.
I’m so determined not to miss a single thing;
More and more fireworks, each minute brings.
I turn my head this way and that,
As though I was at a tennis match.
Fireworks are launching all over the place;
Up, into the sky, they now rapidly race.
Small birds twitter in the tall trees nearby;
Unable to understand happenings in the sky.
In the distance, I can hear some loud cheers.
People stagger past, having had some beers.
Sparkling silvery stars fill the night sky,
But, sadly, it isn’t long before they die.
Fireworks explode to my right and my left;
When they’re all over, I feel quite bereft.
The fireworks last for an hour or more;
The Chinese lanterns, I’d never seen before.
An hour later, the night sky is almost dead.
Having greeted the New Year, I go to bed.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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They All Give The Light
Once upon a time
at a very far away
folk music concert
two American
folk singers claimed
and proclaimed
a revelation
concerning the lights
givers of light
One singer said
“Do you see the lights”
“This one is Christianity”
“That one is Islam”
“That one is Hinduism”
“That one is Buddhism”
They are all different
but they all give...
the same light...
Really?
What about blown bulbs?
When one bulb is blown?
Are all the bulbs blown?
They all give the same light?
A modern western folk revelation?
Is it really all the same light?
Or different sources of light?
Copyright © Terence George Craddock
See also the poem ‘Do All Religions Give The Same Light? ’.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Rocking on the Bay of Bengal
Standing on the sea-board,
I stared out to the bay
and got gripped into the fears
as the frothing waves were lashing against
the boat, arranged for our trip around.
When a strong wave was surging,
our fisher-folk lugged the boat into the sea,
and called us all to jump into it.
The sea was calm to them being tamed,
but the waves were hissing at us.
We were holding tight a rope
that moved the boat straight over the waves.
The engine at the back
gave momentum to the tiny vessel
and succor to our hope of easy sail.
We were heading towards the open sea
sailing across the thoughts of wonder.
Some sea-urchins were hovering around us
But we were warned not to touch them
as it would cause itching all over the body.
Our boat went off a place of swirls.
“If we get into it, full fathom five
we will go down and lie”-they smiled.
We pleaded them to turn back.
They stopped the engine
and the boat was rocked
on a blue expanse of water.
I felt how could I have fallen asleep
When my mother swung me in the cradle
tied at the branch of a Neem tree in our garden,
singing songs of folk and myth.
Tears welled from my eyes!
“ We would dropp anchor in the bay
and kip for a while on the boat at night
dreaming dreams of wonder and horror”,
Our fisher-folk said and brought us ashore.
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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Dutch lullaby
Wynken, Blynken, and Nod one night
Sailed off in a wooden shoe,--
Sailed on a river of misty light
Into a sea of dew.
"Where are you going, and what do you wish?"
The old moon asked the three.
"We have come to fish for the herring-fish
That live in this beautiful sea;
Nets of silver and gold have we,"
Said Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.
The old moon laughed and sung a song,
As they rocked in the wooden shoe;
And the wind that sped them all night long
Ruffled the waves of dew;
The little stars were the herring-fish
That lived in the beautiful sea.
"Now cast your nets wherever you wish,
But never afeard are we!"
So cried the stars to the fishermen three,
Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.
All night long their nets they threw
For the fish in the twinkling foam,
Then down from the sky came the wooden shoe,
Bringing the fishermen home;
'T was all so pretty a sail, it seemed
As if it could not be;
And some folk thought 't was a dream they'd dreamed
Of sailing that beautiful sea;
But I shall name you the fishermen three:
Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.
Wynken and Blynken are two little eyes,
And Nod is a little head,
And the wooden shoe that sailed the skies
Is a wee one's trundle-bed;
So shut your eyes while Mother sings
Of wonderful sights that be,
And you shall see the beautiful things
As you rock on the misty sea
Where the old shoe rocked the fishermen three,--
Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.
poem by Eugene Field
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The Divorce of the Moon
The day arrived
And the engineers came.
They turned on the new lamps.
These cutting- edge outdoor lanterns
Glared with enormously powerful lights,
Flooding the whole blue planet
With shining effulgence.
The lights were very radiant.
They shone
With such brilliant incandescence
That the night completely disappeared
From the Earth.
The Moon became very pale then
And felt she was not needed anymore.
Betrayed and heavy hearted
She decided to abandon the Earth.
And so in the small hours of a Friday
The Moon cast
A last and sad glance
On her spouse, the glowing Blue Globe.
And then with a sorrowful smile
She took her suitcase and passport
And emigrated to another galaxy.
The inhabitants of the Earth
Were truly and profoundly shocked,
Because men, women and children
Were very attached to the Moon.
And now they missed her dearly.
So people wanted to do something
And they started to organize
Mass demonstrations.
Carrying their banners
Along the streets and boulevards
They clamored and chanted in unison:
Bring back the Moon to us!
Oh, bring back,
Oh, bring back
Oh, bring back
The Moon!
Soon there was disorder everywhere
And riots broke out in all the big cities.
The police could hardly control
The violence and had to use teargas
And batons to disperse the angry mobs.
Facing a perilous situation
And trying to solve the crisis
The government held
Around the clock emergency meetings.
However, at the end
The politicians realized
That they cannot bring back the Moon.
So they decided
To enact a new law
That raised taxes by 27 percent.
poem by Paul Hartal
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Christmas 2007 Song – 13
O Star of Bethlehem!
Take us to the manger
Where Jesus Christ was born on, Christmas night!
Come and behold Him,
Son of God, the Father:
O come let us adore Him,
O come let us adore Him,
O come let us adore Him, Jesus Lord.
O sing all ye faithful,
Hymns praising Almighty;
Sing hosanna to the new-born king!
Come see the baby,
Asleep on the bed of hay!
O come let us adore Him,
O come let us adore Him,
O come let us adore Him, Jesus Lord.
O hear the angels sing,
Praises to the Savior-
Redeemer of sinners and human race!
Come offer your hearts
To the new-born Jesus:
O come let us adore Him,
O come let us adore Him,
O come let us adore Him, Jesus Lord.
poem by John Celes
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Wynken, Blynken, and Nod
Wynken, Blynken, and Nod one night
Sailed off in a wooden shoe,--
Sailed on a river of crystal light
Into a sea of dew.
"Where are you going, and what do you wish?"
The old moon asked the three.
"We have come to fish for the herring-fish
That live in this beautiful sea;
Nets of silver and gold have we,"
Said Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.
The old moon laughed and sang a song,
As they rocked in the wooden shoe;
And the wind that sped them all night long
Ruffled the waves of dew;
The little stars were the herring-fish
That lived in the beautiful sea.
"Now cast your nets wherever you wish,--
Never afraid are we!"
So cried the stars to the fishermen three,
Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.
All night long their nets they threw
To the stars in the twinkling foam,--
Then down from the skies came the wooden shoe,
Bringing the fishermen home:
'Twas all so pretty a sail, it seemed
As if it could not be;
And some folk thought 'twas a dream they'd dreamed
Of sailing that beautiful sea;
But I shall name you the fishermen three:
Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.
Wynken and Blynken are two little eyes,
And Nod is a little head,
And the wooden shoe that sailed the skies
Is a wee one's trundle-bed;
So shut your eyes while Mother sings
Of wonderful sights that be,
And you shall see the beautiful things
As you rock in the misty sea
Where the old shoe rocked the fishermen three:--
Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.
poem by Eugene Field
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Hide Away Folk Family
Hide away folk family
Or else someones gonna get ya (someones gonna get ya)
Someones gonna get ya
Hide away folk family
Better hide away
Better hide away
Tippy-toe to the front door, mother,
cause theres a guy with a long, long fuse
And the one thing you cant hide is all the fear you feel inside
As the fuse is spelling out these words
Hide away folk family
Or else someones gonna get ya (someones gonna get ya)
Someones gonna get ya
Hide away folk family
Better hide away
Better hide away
Tippy-toe to the flat-bed, father,
Because theyre pouring out our gasoline
And sadly the cross-eyed bears been put to sleep behind the stairs
And his shoes are laced with irony
Hide away folk family
Or else someones gonna get ya (someones gonna get ya)
Someones gonna get ya
Hide away folk family
Better hide away
Better hide away
Hello. this is leslie down with the daily home astrology report.
Taurus: contemplate domestic turmoil.
Aquarius: abandon hope for future plans.
Hide away folk family
Or else someones gonna get ya (someones gonna get ya)
Someones gonna get ya
Hide away folk family
Better hide away
Better hide away (hide away)
Hide away (folk family) folk family (or else someones gonna get ya)
Someones gonna get ya
Hide away
Hide away
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nocturne
Indigo bulb of darkness
Punctured by needle lights
Through a fissure of brick canyon shutting out stars,
And a sliver of moon
Spigoting two high windows over the West river….
Boy, I met to-night,
Your eyes are two red-glowing arcs shifting with my vision….
They reflect as in a fading proof
The deadened eyes of a woman,
And your shed virginity,
Light as the withered pod of a sweet pea,
Moist and fragrant
Blows against my soul.
What are you to me, boy,
That I, who have passed so many lights,
Should carry your eyes
Like swinging lanterns?
poem by Lola Ridge
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Dancing Moon (not in poetic order)
it was a beautiful starlit night
as the moon danced across the water.
like a ballerina upon a stage.
dazzling, hypnotizing, mesmerizing.
every move a work of art.
the ripples across the water
like her toes touching the stage.
ever so gently, like a butterfly upon a flower.
all of these things is what i saw.
on this beautiful night
'oh what a glorious sight'.
the moon played its tricks upon the water
as each wave came closer to the shore.
it was like thousands of fireflies
scooting across the water
all in perfect order.
the moon was above
the moon was below
'oh what a magnificent show'.
so when you see a full moon on a starlit night
go out and enjoy this sight.
poem by Louis Rams
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Fairy Tale
Babies carried off and changed by fairies. In mid winter of
last winter of 1884, in Burghed, in the North of Scotland,
around great fires, incantations were pronounced to drive
away the evil spirits. The custom has come down from
the time of the Druids.
Where'er you find the Fisher folk
There, under superstitions yoke,
For a strong faith 'mong them prevails.
Of truth of witch and fairy tales.
They think that witch could hurl a shaft
Which would o'erwhelm their fishing craft,
For witches do with Satan truck,
They can give good or bring bad luck ;
Fish women do their children teach
To bait the lines down on the beach ;
Themselves do wade in sea for net
So husband's feet will not get wet,
For the women are barefooted,
And the men are heavy booted.
In Fisher, Town of Cromarty,
There once did meet a noisy party,
Confusion worse than Babel's Tower,
It did prevail for a whole hour;
When from sea shore wives did return
Each one did find good cause to mourn,
For each babe was left in cradle,
Had been changed, 'tis no fable ;
They said 'twas fairies did them change,
And left with them but weaklings strange.
Old wife, to end confusion wild,
Said each must bring to her the child ;
Soon mothers they did find their dears,
And did wipe then from eyes all tears,
While few young men across the way
They glorious did enjoy the fray,
For while the mothers were at beach
They changed all babes within their reach.
poem by James McIntyre
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Let Me Come Home
I left you there, strong and sturdy
Lights turned on and heat cranked up
Closed your door, to take a tour
With the girl I love so much
I traded my home for another that night
And although it was brief
Someone decided that for that night
I should feel grief
I took my leave from my girlfriend
(my home from home)
To travel back to where I left you
With lights turned on and heat cranked up
I desired your physical feeling and glow
And so I walked…
“A mile” I said “It will not be so bad”
But little did I know
Of what I did not have
“MY KEY” I gasped
I forgot it in your depths
While I walked towards you
I did not know if you’d let me rest
I tried to think of your unclosed door
Welcoming on in
And so I chanted in the late night din…
Please let me come home
I pray and ask and plead for home
I need, and desire, and glorify you home
I asked and was given a crack in the door
You let me come home.
poem by Martin Byrne
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Dead Folk Don't Talk
On the day she died they all came,
though I was shocked they recalled her name
but they drank our booze and ate our cake
yeah they ate our cake alright.
Maybe they meant well
maybe not
but you can't keep dead folk company
for dead folk, they don't talk.
Nobody came and nobody called
when she was ill and dying.
Nobody seemed to care at all
and now they're all here crying.
Maybe they meant well
maybe not
but you can't keep dead folk company
for dead folk, they don't talk.
So I sat there dazed and out of control
listening to them talking,
but when she were alive, the house was still,
just me and mother sighing.
Maybe they meant well
maybe not
but you can't keep dead folk company
for dead folk, they don't talk.
And afterwards, when they all went
I carried out her last requests.
I moved her gas fire, paid the rent
and left a note to the dairyman.
Nobody came and nobody called
when she was ill and dying.
Nobody seemed to care at all
and if they say they did, they're lying.
poem by Ruth Walters
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