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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Related quotes
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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Fleeting Impressions.
Fleeting Impressions.
Soft silver moonbeams passing through.
A stained glass window in the night.
Are guaranteed to turn into
An abstract picture to delight.
Those who can appreciate.
A different form of artistry
Which never becomes out of date.
But remains contemporary.
The way the colours merge and blend
The interplay of light and shade
The constant changes will not end.
Until the sun announces a new day
When daylight breaks the moonlight goes
Back where it came from I suppose.
Tuesday,29 November 2011
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Oh Sweet Silver Moon
Oh sweet silver moon
Tell your lies
Let me drown in the tears your cry
Even if just for tonight
Oh sweet silver moon
Sing me your song of sorrow
Let me drown in your dark voice
Even if just for tonight
Oh sweet silver moon
Lend me your eyes
So that I may see as you see
Even if just for tonight
Oh sweet silver moond
Tell me the stories of your past
So that I may know your darkness
Even if just for tonight
Oh sweet silver moon
Let me feel your misty beams
Flow over my pail skin
Even if just for tonight
For tomorrow I shall be gone
As your sweet beams fade
I will give myself to the eternal sun
And my ashes shall scatter to the wind...
(2006)
poem by Lauren Harris
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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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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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Faded photograph
A snapshot taken years ago.
Somewhat lacking clarity.
Of some young guys I used to know
In fact the skinny one is me.
The other two I can recall,
their faces well but not their names
Although I try nothing at all.
My memory is playing games
I wonder where they are today
I wonder if they remember me
The passing years erode away
your memories ability.
To regain any access to
some things you know that you once knew
Monday,13 February 2012
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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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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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Harmless Gossip
An avenue of stately trees
whose branches meet high overhead
exchanging gossip with the breeze.
This is the way that rumours spread.
When lovers stroll beneath the moon.
The trees observe their every move.
They dance to day to the same tune
their forbears danced to when in love.
Though fashions change, some things do not.
The trees have seen it all before.
All that they’ve seen is not forgot
but added the their growing store
of gossip which the trees then share
with every passing breeze that blows.
The trees will spread it everywhere
to all and sundry I suppose.
Be very careful what you do.
Although no one can see.
Know that the trees are watching you
and they will share quite happily.
Everything that they have seen
with any breeze that happens by.
With consequences unforeseen
By trees and breeze or you and I.
When strolling in a moon lit glade
Beware the moons soft silver rays.
That stir the blood of man and maid
to think this is the time and place.
19/09/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Some things never change.
I do.
She said and so did I
We wed,
one Saturday in June.
We went
away on honeymoon.
A taste
of paradise for two.
We swore.
Each year we would renew.
The vows
we made when we were wed.
Today
though many years have flown.
We are
on honeymoon again
The kids
grown up and fled the nest.
Nothing
has changed we feel the same.
Our love
grew deeper day by day.
The same
hotel the same bedroom.
We had
reviving memories.
Although
We have raised a family.
We knew
all those years ago.
We would
return to paradise.
A dream
that would come true.
Today.
While watching the sun rise.
She said,
I love you so did I.
It’s true.
We were wiser than we knew.
When we
decided we should wed.
We two.
Were meant to be a pair.
Decreed
by fate: We still care.
The way
we did when we first wed.
She knows
its true and so do I.
Monday,15 March 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Mother Love.
Allthrough the night I vigil kept
My precious child was gravely ill
I told my rosary and wept
to see him lie so pale and still
The dreaded crisis came and went.
My babe is sleeping peacefully
I am exhausted but content
My first born child is still with me.
He will grow up to be a man.
Something which was in jeopardy.
Which makes me a happy woman
I offer my thanks gratefully.
My child pulled through against the odds
Which has renewed my faith in God.
14/10/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Needs Must
I am awoken by a need
My bladder signals urgently
you must make haste there’s need for speed
No sleep until you empty me.
I rise from bed reluctantly
as fast as aged joints permit.
Go to the bathroom where I pee.
Then when I have accomplished it
go back to bed and try to sleep.
I usually manage easily
I see no need for counting sheep
Quite soon I’m sleeping peacefully
I am quite old and I expect
its something which I must accept.
24-Jan-09
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Moon's breath
It streaks across your mind
a frost of thought
a delight of crystal
midnight lifted light
mysterious
so distant
yet a silver bath
you reach for it
sometimes it comes to you
or just a flicker
dreams in beams
moon's breath
breathes you clear
orb's night time light
lovers wish for
moon's breath
sunlight diminishes
blinding
the soft of
moon's breath
reveals hearts and lovers
everyone is within reach of
moon's breath
to caress us
poem by Charles Sammons
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Family tradition.
I feel a hand touching my hair but when I look there’s no one there.
And then I settle down to rest again I felt my hair caressed.
I’ve no idea what it might be. It seems to mean no harm to me.
I’m wide awake I m not dreaming. The gentle moonlight softly beaming
through the window of my room, firmly dispels the twilight gloom Although there’s nothing I can see, some thing is caressing me.
It feels somehow familiar and I recall my Grandmama
Who used to sit beside my bed and very gently stroke my head.
when I was just a little lad. A memory both sweet and sad.
I have returned to my old home back to my roots no more to roam.
Perhaps her spirit lingers here and that is why I feel no fear.
I felt this old house calling me insistently and constantly.
Which finally decided me that this where I ought to be.
It has been in my family for two and one half centuries.
I think that very probably my eldest son will follow me.
Just as I followed my own Dad. If he did not it would be sad.
We are an ancient family part of the local history.
They say there is a prophecy and I believe there may well be.
Which says we must come home to die. That it is true I can’t deny.
Nor can I guarantee its true I leave that question up to you.
Monday,17 May 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Tribute to W.B.Yeats
When you are old and grey and full of sleep
And nodding by the fireside. Take down this book
and slowly read and dream of the soft look.
Your eyes once had and of their shadows deep
William Butler Yeats 1865-1939
A tribute to W.B Yeats
When you are old and grey and full of sleep
and conscious thoughts go in and out.
I am quite sure I have no doubt.
That memories will unbidden creep
And nodding by the fireside. Take down this book
a true record of all that’s been
Everything you’ve done and seen.
It is past time to take another look.
And slowly read and dream of the soft look
you used to see in your lovers eyes.
You are content because you realise.
There is contained within this book
Your eyes once had and of their shadow deep
Are still the same they have not changed.
Constant they have not been re-arranged
All of the memories you chose to keep.
31/08/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Morning Ritual.
Cywydd deuair Fyrion.
I greet the dawn.
A day new born.
My hymn of praise
I gladly raise.
As I should do
and so should you.
We know it’s true
that praise is due
An attitude
of gratitude.
Would be seemly
But we are free
To choose to sing
or do nothing.
It may well be
that unlike me.
You do not pray
to greet the day
That is your choice
But I rejoice
to see daylight
banish the night.
That’s why I raise
my hymn of praise.
Tuesday,02 February 2010.
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Perceptions.
Extinguishing the candle flame.
Initiates my nightly game.
My room’s subject to subtle change
as questing moonbeams re-arrange.
The shadows which were left behind.
So everything is now outlined
in silvery reflections.
Altering my perceptions.
Highlighting things that generally
I overlook, just do not see.
Recalling distant memories
of half forgotten fantasies
Which gently lull me off to sleep
So much more fun than counting sheep.
Sunday,31 October 2010
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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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Love of moonlight
Moonlight soft as down filled pillows
Cool as spring water washing over my face
filtered through the nets of weeping willows
Scattered beams… through prisms of lace
Rays of radiance, round ruffs and edges
Of clouds that scurry, to keep apace
Puddles of buttermilk, on ground and hedges
Moonlight phantasms of lunar grace
moon glow… with halo, aura of gold
Light worshipped by werewolves and covens of witches
Both bane and blessing…in lore of old
Light that has no need of man or of switches
Light that can be reaped from fall’s harvest moon
Light to be enjoyed by moonstruck lover
Light that has music, like a happy… or blue tune
Moon light is unique…quite unlike any other
Moonlight’s a mystery, yet I love it so
Moonlight has the power to charm and delight
while some people scoff, at moon’s golden glow
Others… like me, are swept up at it’s sight
poem by David Whalen
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Waltz time for MY Lady Irene.
I
Hold you
In my arms.
We
begin
a slow waltz
One
two three
one two three.
I
ask you
to be mine.
You
Agree
Instantly.
We
both knew
without doubt.
You
love me
I love you.
We
will dance
together.
In
Perfect
Harmony.
As
we were
meant to do.
For
ever
and a day.
Monday,25 January 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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