Too young, too late
A quiet lake beneath the moon
reflects the starry firmament.
The silence broken by a loon
bemoaning his predicament
A lonely loon who lacks a mate.
Announcing he’s available
Please answer before it’s too late
his isolation palpable.
Then once again silence descends.
Frustrated he gets no reply
the mating seasons nears its end.
Perhaps next year he’ll find a mate
but until then he’ll have to wait.
27-Jan-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Related quotes
The Three Maidens
There were three maidens met on the highway;
The sun was down, the night was late:
And two sang loud with the birds of May,
O the nightingale is merry with its mate.
Said they to the youngest, Why walk you there so still?
The land is dark, the night is late:
O, but the heart in my side is ill,
And the nightingale will languish for its mate.
Said they to the youngest, Of lovers there is store;
The moon mounts up, the night is late:
O, I shall look on man no more,
And the nightingale is dumb without its mate.
Said they to the youngest, Uncross your arms and sing;
The moon mounts high, the night is late:
O my dear lover can hear no thing,
And the nightingale sings only to its mate.
They slew him in revenge, and his true-love was his lure;
The moon is pale, the night is late:
His grave is shallow on the moor;
O the nightingale is dying for its mate.
His blood is on his breast, and the moss-roots at his hair;
The moon is chill, the night is late:
But I will lie beside him there:
O the nightingale is dying for its mate.
poem by George Meredith
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Ringneck Loon
Hear the call of the ringneck loon
Hear the sound he will be home soon
Hear the cry in the afternoon
Ringneck loon, he knows best
Hes a loon and he dont care less
Ringneck loon, away off shore
How could anybody ask for more
Hear the call of the ringneck loon
Hear the sound he will be home soon
Hear the cry in the afternoon
Ringneck loon, he cant rest
Hes a loon and he dont care less
Ringneck loon around the bend
Been a loon since he dont know when
Hear the call of the ringneck loon
City life is what I see
City life is the life for me
Ringneck loon, he knows best
Hes a loon and he dont care less
Hear the cry of the ringneck loon
Hear the sound he will be home soon
Hear the cry in the afternoon
Ringneck loon, you cant rest
Youre a loonie and you dont care less
Ringneck loon my old friend
Been a loon since he dont know when
Hear the cry of the ringneck loon
Hear the sound he will be home soon
Hear the cry in the afternoon
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Consequences of demise
Through the forest, past the gate
Where the time seemed to wait
As your breath tried an escape
While they decide your fate
Nothing says ‘its too late'
Than the fallen angels broken mate
Who hides and cries
And still denies
That the one she prized
Created his own demise
No one moves, no one breaths
As that soulless being leaves
She's broken far beyond repair
In her own dismal despair
So tell me as you wait and pray
In anticipation for the hell to pay
Have you so much as apologized?
For the tears your ‘soul mate' cries
poem by Rebecca Pepper
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A silence.
In this silence
there is not the hush of a breeze,
not the purr of a cat,
not the hum of summer bees
and not the wiping of feet on a mat.
In this silence
there is the absence of fear,
the quenching of thirst
and the quiet eating of hungry bread.
In this silence there is the wise old look that says so much.
This silence is and is not
the lapping of gentle waters on the shores of a lonely lake.
This silence is not
the cries of gulls hovering
above the cliffs of eternal seas.
poem by John O'connell
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You Are Not Lonely.
How can you be lonely when you have a wand to rely on?
How can you be lonely when you have Gestures to rely on?
How can you be lonely when you have paper to rely on?
Oh silly! How can you be lonely when you have loneliness to rely on?
Silly my dear mate you cannot be lonely.....
You have loneliness with you.....
He always hears you story....
Your story has words but your words have silence
You are though dumb to it but your loneliness can hear silence
So I'll share one secret, I have two friends very nice
One is silence and other is loneliness this is hard to deny...
I can hear their presence and can describe it to you
I have described so far till date you never knew
My silence is there for me I knew and believe
Is thus there yours for you too this you must reveal
So if Almighty bestows you with such a beauty delight.....
When your darkness is with your silence and loneliness and in their light......
How can you curse that Eternal who cares for you so high?
poem by Jinneth Rose
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The Swagman and His Mate
FROM north to south throughout the year
The shearing seasons run,
The Queensland stations start to shear
When Maoriland has done;
But labour’s cheap and runs are wide,
And some the track must tread
From New Year’s Day till Christmastide
And never get a shed!
North, west, and south—south, west and north—
They lead and follow Fate—
The stoutest hearts that venture forth—
The swagman and his mate.
A restless, homeless class they are
Who tramp in Borderland.
They take their rest ’neath moon and star—
Their bed the desert sand,
On sunset tracks they ride and tramp,
Till speech has almost died,
And still they drift from camp to camp
In silence side by side.
They think and dream, as all men do;
Perchance their dreams are great—
Each other’s thoughts are sacred to
The swagman and his mate.
With scrubs beneath the stifling skies
Unstirred by heaven’s breath;
Beyond the Darling Timber lies
The land of living death!
A land that wrong-born poets brave
Till dulled minds cease to grope——
A land where all things perish, save
The memories of Hope.
When daylight’s fingers point out back
(And seem to hesitate)
The far faint dust cloud marks their track—
The swagman and his mate.
And one who followed through the scrub
And out across the plain,
And only in a bitter mood
Would seek those tracks again,
Can only write what he has seen—
Can only give his hand—
And greet those mates in words that mean
“I know”, “I understand.”
I hope they’ll find the squatter “white”,
The cook and shearers “straight”,
When they have reached the shed to-night—
The swagman and his mate.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Silence Echos
Silence
makes my heart break
Silence
Love, does not make
Silence
Was it all just a terrible mistake?
Silence
Was love just a game, just fake?
Silence
Leaves me heartbroken
Silence
Kills he feeling behind words unspoken
Silence
has is a shield you hide behind
Silence
Guards what's on your mind
Silence
Chills your heart's sound
Silence
Love cannot silently be found
Silence
has turned your dreams blind
Silence
is darkness in which you cannot find
Silence
Crushes the hopeful feelings that were kind
Silence
Of emptiness it did remind
Silence
Silence took all I sought to find
Silence
Silence was hurtful and unkind
Silence
Will kill love before it ripens on the vine
Love will go silently
But it's lonely hurt will echo for all time
poem by James T. Adair
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Sea Hold
THE SEA is large.
The sea hold on a leg of land in the Chesapeake hugs an early sunset and a last morning star over the oyster beds and the late clam boats of lonely men.
Five white houses on a half-mile strip of land... five white dice rolled from a tube.
Not so long ago... the sea was large...
And to-day the sea has lost nothing... it keeps all.
I am a loon about the sea.
I make so many sea songs, I cry so many sea cries, I forget so many sea songs and sea cries.
I am a loon about the sea.
So are five men I had a fish fry with once in a tar-paper shack trembling in a sand storm.
The sea knows more about them than they know themselves.
They know only how the sea hugs and will not let go.
The sea is large.
The sea must know more than any of us.
poem by Carl Sandburg
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Dewayne
Meeting you was due to fate
Being with you was due to our first date
Which then lead you to be my mate
What we have is more than great
Us together gets the highest rate
At times we have our differences like you being late
But all that doesnt matter because your my soul mate
We talk on the phone for hours and sleep in late
When we are together I want to be intimate
I'm glad we are together and we did not wait
Because with out you in my life I couldn't create
poem by Traci Peace
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I listen to the silence
I Listen To The Silence
Darkness about me
In the somnolent silence
The silence has substance
As thick as can be
silence about me
as loud as a scream
In a nightmarish dream
It can terrify me
Silence has a feel
Of darkness in velvet cloaked
As a desperate cry being choked
Phantasmic, yet real
As Quiet surrounds me
The silence has substance
The absence of presence
is deafening to me
Sounds whispery as paper
Things scurry about me
Sounds, soft, sad and scaly
Like venom and vapour
Silence is sound incomplete
Silence whirs, silence hums
Silence throbs, silence thrums
Silence has it’s own heartbeat
Quiet has movement,
Tho’ever so slow
Quiet has substance
and how do I know?
I listen to the silence...
as you do also
poem by David Whalen
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La Fuite De La Lune
To outer senses there is peace,
A dreamy peace on either hand
Deep silence in the shadowy land,
Deep silence where the shadows cease.
Save for a cry that echoes shrill
From some lone bird disconsolate;
A corncrake calling to its mate;
The answer from the misty hill.
And suddenly the moon withdraws
Her sickle from the lightening skies,
And to her sombre cavern flies,
Wrapped in a veil of yellow gauze.
poem by Oscar Wilde
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Impressions II. La Fuite De La Lune
TO outer senses there is peace,
A dreamy peace on either hand,
Deep silence in the shadowy land,
Deep silence where the shadows cease.
Save for a cry that echoes shrill
From some lone bird disconsolate;
A corncrake calling to its mate;
The answer from the misty hill.
And suddenly the moon withdraws
Her sickle from the lightening skies,
And to her sombre cavern flies,
Wrapped in a veil of yellow gauze.
poem by Oscar Wilde
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mate selection
Mating among animals and birds takes place
Not by proximity but by mate selection.
There is among humans mate selection.
Distant people are thus getting married.
18.06.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Silence
Lonely girl lies awake at night
Silence ringing in her ears
Theres a boy who is on her mind
So much promise unfulfilled
She had waited so patiently
He had nothing more to say
Not a sound as she slowly walked away
Lonely boy watching from the bridge
His reflection in the lake
Theres a girl who seems out of reach
And a choice he has to make
Lonely boy what will you become
If you let her slip away
Tomorrows pain of regret may come too late
Too many people
Suffer in silence
Because theyre afraid
Love will never come their way
So many walk behind a veil of sorrow
So many know they have themselves to blame
Good reasons not to wait until tomorrow
So dont be afraid
Love will always come your way
He should say hes a lonely man
She may have heard it all before
He should say hes a faithful man
She can never be too sure
If only he would communicate
Thered be nothing in their way
Only then would she understand his pain
Too many people
Suffer in silence
Because theyre afraid
Love will never come their way
So many walk behind a veil of sorrow
So many know they have themselves to blame
Too many people
Suffer in silence
So dont be afraid
Love will always come your way
song performed by by Level 42
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Question
I don't have the answer
So why ask me, why?
Why do you ask me a question
When there is no reply?
As though the answer was this?
Did you know all along?
That so much space
Is weighed down in white silence
Who told you these things?
These imagined replies?
To the unanswered question
The question why?
There is no reply
But bad weather
Rough roads
There is no reply
Leave the rain alone
There is no reply
No reply
No answer to why
Leave the question alone
No face in the sky
No key to the door
No there is nothing, but nothing
So leave nothing alone
And turn round and go home
Watch the sea from your window
The waves rise and fall
Nothing but madness
And nothing at all! !
The moon's silver crescent
No time to recall
What is left
What is deaf
What is blind
To ritual?
To sign?
There's no pattern no season
No face in the wall
No reason too reasonable
To make no sense at all!
There is no reply
To pain
Love lost
To prayer
Why ask me these questions?
When there's no answer there?
yvette m smith july 09
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Silence
I sit alone in my room in silence
I wait for you all day in silence
I walk an empty street in silence
What happend to the noises I used to hear?
I lie on my bed in silence
I wait for the sun to rise in silence
I look for you in the stars in silence
Why did you leave me here?
Hey everyone. I thought I might try a different style of writing. Tell me if you like it or not! =D thanks
poem by Lisa French
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A heart chanced
A heart chanced
~
A heart chanced once more
After years of silent solitude
Met only silence in its asking
And wept into a quiet nothing
A pride and strength deflated
The hope which fed each word
Broken like the dream left behind
The memories of past heartbreak
Revoked in this new silence
A question asked, regretted
A belief chanced, lost
The simple words spoken
Honest and gently thought
Fall into a quiet silence
A solitude of reply
To the heart which fought
To believe and chance again
Sits sadly quietly weeping
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Mountain's Lonely Echo
His lonely howl echos through the mountains high,
crying out to his lover, desperate is his cry.
Their lands seperate them from the start,
but no mountain so high, can seperate their heart.
His heart beats slowly as his cries ring out in the night,
traveling through his domain, never losing his sight.
To reach his mate, his life he will give,
to have that moment in time, his reason to live.
Cold bearing down on him as his feet grow tired,
but on he must go, to reach his desire.
Never looking back at the foot prints he leaves behind,
knowing ahead the mountain he must climb.
Heart full of hope that his mate will be there waiting,
to fulfill his every need, his heart anticipating.
One dream under the night to come true,
one journey he must pull through.
Life to begin, to quiet his lonely howl,
no more traveling, no more on the prowl.
Life complete for him and his mate,
his lonely howl echoing through the mountain,
as his lady does wait.
poem by Ruth warren
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Loves lament
Loves Lament.
The dragon sings his mating song
and voices his sad loneliness.
To be alone he feels is wrong
he seeks a mate a dragoness.
He sings it from the mountain peaks.
A song of love and tenderness
He lets the world know that he seeks
to find a mate a dragoness.
But female dragons are so rare
his hopes of happiness are few.
His lament fills the upper air
there’s nothing else that he can do.
He sings his love song every night
when day is done and twilight falls.
He hopes one day that he just might
receive an answer to his calls.
He sings his plaintive melody
resounding clearly everywhere
and always listens carefully.
He’s sure that there must be somewhere.
A dragoness who’s lonely too.
One fine night he hears a voice
an answer that’s long overdue.
His heart aflame he must rejoice.
A dragoness has heard his call
and from afar she quickly flew
. She lands upon his eyrie wall.
says” I am Flame but who are you”
He bows to her and he replies
“ My name is Star I live alone.
Your coming took me by surprise
The greatest gift that I have known”
She says that she too seeks a mate.
His love call lifted her despair.
Perchance it’s time to celebrate.
She thinks they’ll make a lovely pair.
He then proposes formally
for Dragons are a polite race
and she accepts him readily
and couches her reply in grace.
But still each night the dragon sings
of how he loves his dragoness.
Enfolds her safely in his wings
and treats her with great tenderness.
You may not think my tale is true.
For fools say dragons don’t exist
I can assure you that they do.
That’s why the legends still persist.
Although they may be far and few.
If you are lucky you may see
a pair of dragons: If you do
then just enjoy it quietly.
There is no need to brag and boast.
you will be labelled as insane.
But you are luckier than most
to see the dragons fly again.
Oct 05
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Elephant Is Slow to Mate
The elephant, the huge old beast,
is slow to mate;
he finds a female, they show no haste
they wait
for the sympathy in their vast shy hearts
slowly, slowly to rouse
as they loiter along the river-beds
and drink and browse
and dash in panic through the brake
of forest with the herd,
and sleep in massive silence, and wake
together, without a word.
So slowly the great hot elephant hearts
grow full of desire,
and the great beasts mate in secret at last,
hiding their fire.
Oldest they are and the wisest of beasts
so they know at last
how to wait for the loneliest of feasts
for the full repast.
They do not snatch, they do not tear;
their massive blood
moves as the moon-tides, near, more near
till they touch in flood.
poem by David Herbert Lawrence
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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