Impromptu
On a young girl showing me a scar on her cheek where a stick of wood struck her.
In its own place 'tis very good
Always to have plenty of wood ;
But, striking fair maid, that is rude,
And puts me in an angry mood.
poem by James McIntyre
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Related quotes
Through The Wood
THROUGH the wood, the green wood, the wet wood, the light wood,
Love and I went maying a thousand lives ago;
Shafts of golden sunlight had made a golden bright wood
In my heart reflected, because I loved you so.
Through the wood, the chill wood, the brown wood, the bare wood,
I alone went lonely no later than last year,
What had thinned the branches, and wrecked my dear and fair wood,
Killed the pale wild roses and left the rose-thorns sere?
Through the wood, the dead wood, the sad wood, the lone wood,
Winds of winter shiver through lichens old and grey,
You ride past forgetting the wood that was our own wood
All our own--and withered as ever a flower of May.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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In The Days Of Crinoline
A plain tilt-bonnet on her head
She took the path across the leaze.
- Her spouse the vicar, gardening, said,
'Too dowdy that, for coquetries,
So I can hoe at ease.'
But when she had passed into the heath,
And gained the wood beyond the flat,
She raised her skirts, and from beneath
Unpinned and drew as from a sheath
An ostrich-feathered hat.
And where the hat had hung she now
Concealed and pinned the dowdy hood,
And set the hat upon her brow,
And thus emerging from the wood
Tripped on in jaunty mood.
The sun was low and crimson-faced
As two came that way from the town,
And plunged into the wood untraced….
When separately therefrom they paced
The sun had quite gone down.
The hat and feather disappeared,
The dowdy hood again was donned,
And in the gloom the fair one neared
Her home and husband dour, who conned
Calmly his blue-eyed blonde.
'To-day,' he said, 'you have shown good sense,
A dress so modest and so meek
Should always deck your goings hence
Alone.' And as a recompense
He kissed her on the cheek.
poem by Thomas Hardy
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Sea-Saw (more writing fun)
If I saw a wood boat afloat
Upon the sea,
Would what I see possibly be
The wood I cut from a tree?
For when I saw a tree
I would like to think I see,
What the wood I saw
Could be.
If all I saw in wood from a tree
Was all I saw that there was to see,
Would what I did saw
Be the wood that I now see?
And if the wood I once did saw
Was indeed made into that ship on the sea,
Would it even be possible to know that here what I see
Is the wood once sawed by me?
All I here would dare to share is:
I see what I saw, and I saw what I see,
And therefore the wood I do saw could one day be
The boat I may see, afloat upon the sea.
See?
poem by Smoky Hoss
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Young People
Young people gather wood, rather rotten wood,
Relaxing as can be, relishing the coal of the fire;
They wait until death has arrived, on their doorstep,
When steps are taken to disturb the real fire of life.
Youth is spending a youth, young men and women,
All of them are splendid in jobs, worthwhile endeavour.
We space our life around the stages we encounter,
The young heart masters a new strategy, feeling good
About the way we wonder and wander, like burning wood.
The heart of red blood felt all right,
But young hearts defend themselves.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Harvest Home Festivals
In summer time it doth seem good
To seek the shade of the green wood,
For it doth banish all our care
When we gaze on scene so fair.
And birds do here in branches sing
So merrily in early spring,
And lovingly they here do pair,
Their mutual joys together share.
Here nature's charming never rude, Inspiring all with happy mood,
Tables had choice fruit of season, And we too had feast of reason.
poem by James McIntyre
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In Bad Mood
I’m in bad mood
Don’t try to sooth
I’m ready to shoot
I’ll track till your root
I’m in bad mood
Don’t trick me smooth
I’m going to be no good
Even you run away to the wood
I’m in bad mood
Don’t need shielding hood
You’ll become my delicious food
And a fun play for my boot
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Domestic Shades-25
Her resilience is like a danseuse
Involved with elegant loyalty
And that is the most I admire
In every visit to my daughter's place
Where her maid Dhanam, here I mean
Has inspired by her mopping style
Holding the stick gentle in firm grip
Mopping determined in firm swabbings...
And the sparkling floor charms
Ever to follow Dhanam's style
which when I was trying out
In easy-done mood one day
I felt an angry gaze at my back
Which I knew from whom
And a day later my tiny grand-daughter
When did the same
She too felt at her back an angry gaze
Which she too knew from whom
And still a day later
Dhanam when began with her style
The mop-stick on its turn stared
At Dhanam's fiery grumblings
Over its non-co-operation
And she too felt behind an angry gaze
Which all knew was my daughter's
Meaningful in unuttered words
Thrown on me pointed..'All because of you'
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Knock On Wood
I dont want to lose the good thing that Ive got
If I do, I will surely, I will lose a lot
For your love is better than any love other Ive know
Its like thunder, lightning
The way you love me is frightening
I better knock on wood
Baby
I got superstitious about you, but I cant take change
You got me spinning, baby, spinning in a trance
But your love is better than any other love Ive known
Its like thunder, lightning
The way you love me is frightening
You better knock on wood
Its no secret, but that woman fills my lovin cup
She sees, so ready, that I get enough
And her love is better than any other love Ive known
Its like thunder
Its like lightning
The way you love me is frightening
I better knock on wood
Baby
Better, yes, better
(yes you better knock, knock, knock on wood) yes, I better
(yes you better knock, knock, knock on wood) oh, knock on wood
(yes you better knock, knock, knock on wood) you know I would, would
(yes you better knock, knock, knock on wood) its no secret
(yes you better knock, knock, knock on wood) no, oh, better
(yes you better knock, knock, knock on wood) hangin above me
(yes you better knock, knock, knock on wood) I cant leave her
(yes you better knock, knock, knock on wood) oh no, baby
Knock on wood, woo!
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Crosscut Saw
By r. g. ford
Im a crosscut saw,
Baby, drag me across your log.
Im a crosscut saw,
Baby, drag me across your log.
I cut your wood so easy for you,
You cant help but say, hot dog!
Some call me woodcutting sam,
Some call me woodcutting jim.
The last girl I cut wood for,
She wants me back again.
Im a crosscut saw,
Baby, drag me across your log.
I cut your wood so easy for you,
You cant help but say, hot dog!
I got a double-bladed axe
That really cuts good.
Well, Im a crosscut saw,
Gonna bury me in your wood.
Im a crosscut saw,
Baby, drag me across your log.
I cut your wood so easy for you,
You cant help but say, hot dog!
song performed by by Eric Clapton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Creed Of The Wood
A WHIFF of forest scent,
Balsam and fern,
Won from dreary mood
My heart's return,
From its discontent,
Joy's run-away,
To the sweet, wise wood
And the laughing day.
Simple as dew and gleam
Is the creed of the wood!
The Beautiful gave us life,
And life is good.
Be the world but a dream,
Let the world go shod
With peace, not strife,
For the Dreamer is God.
poem by Katharine Lee Bates
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Queen Of Them All
When the day is dawning
Whos the radio
Whos the hand in your hand
Whos the one who knows
When youre on the ropes
Shes the one you can lean on
And I really dont know why I feel so good
But its happening to me so I knock on wood
Who can call you darling
Who can make you stand
Whos got all the answers
When things get out of hand
Whos got all the moves
Shes the queen of them all
And I really dont know why I feel so good
But its happening to me so I knock on wood
Shes the queen of them all
Shes the queen of them all
Walkin proud with her colors showing
Shes the queen of them all
When the sun is setting
Who will hold your hand
Who is always there for you
Who can understand
Shes got all the moves
Shes the queen of them all
And I really dont know why I feel so good
But its happening to me so I knock on wood
And I really dont know why I feel so good
But its happening to me so I knock on wood
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Who Goes With Fergus?
WHO will go drive with Fergus now,
And pierce the deep wood's woven shade,
And dance upon the level shore?
Young man, lift up your russet brow,
And lift your tender eyelids, maid,
And brood on hopes and fear no more.
And no more turn aside and brood
Upon love's bitter mystery;
For Fergus rules the brazen cars,
And rules the shadows of the wood,
And the white breast of the dim sea
And all dishevelled wandering stars.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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Alumni Hall
surrounded by old wood
you breathe wood
and you feel the wood
breathing you too
all around you
in deep sleep
the past comes still dreaming of you
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bluebell Wood
Children tiptoe through the bluebell wood
making no sound as they go.
It seems like only yesterday
we saw our children play
the games we used to do.
Now we smile at our grandchildren
playing hide and seek
in the same bluebell wood
where we did play.
Our hair maybe silver and white,
but we are still young at heart
and want to join them
tiptoeing through the bluebell wood.
19 March 2011
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Wreck of the "Julie Plante": A Legend of Lac St. Pierre
1 On wan dark night on Lac St. Pierre,
2 De win' she blow, blow, blow,
3 An' de crew of de wood scow "Julie Plante"
4 Got scar't an' run below—
5 For de win' she blow lak hurricane,
6 Bimeby she blow some more,
7 An' de scow bus' up on Lac St. Pierre
8 Wan arpent from de shore.
9 De captinne walk on de fronte deck,
10 An' walk de hin' deck too—
11 He call de crew from up de hole,
12 He call de cook also.
13 De cook she 's name was Rosie,
14 She come from Montreal,
15 Was chambre maid on lumber barge,
16 On de Grande Lachine Canal.
17 De win' she blow from nor' -eas' -wes',--
18 De sout' win' she blow too,
19 W'en Rosie cry, "Mon cher captinne,
20 Mon cher, w'at I shall do ?"
21 Den de captinne t'row de beeg ankerre,
22 But still de scow she dreef,
23 De crew he can't pass on de shore,
24 Becos' he los' hees skeef.
25 De night was dark lak wan black cat,
26 De wave run high an' fas',
27 W'en de captinne tak' de Rosie girl
28 An' tie her to de mas'.
29 Den he also tak' de life preserve,
30 An' jomp off on de lak',
31 An' say, "Good-bye, ma Rosie dear,
32 I go drown for your sak'."
33 Nex' morning very early
34 'Bout ha'f-pas' two—t'ree—four—
35 De captinne—scow—an' de poor Rosie
36 Was corpses on de shore,
37 For de win' she blow lak hurricane,
38 Bimeby she blow some more,
39 An' de scow bus' up on Lac St. Pierre,
40 Wan arpent from de shore.
MORAL
41 Now all good wood scow sailor man
42 Tak' warning by dat storm
43 An' go an' marry some nice French girl
44 An' leev on wan beeg farm.
45 De win' can blow lak hurricane
46 An' s'pose she blow some more,
47 You can't get drown on Lac St. Pierre
48 So long you stay on shore.
poem by William Henry Drummond
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Time And Sentiment
I see a fair young couple in a wood,
And as they go, one bends to take a flower,
That so may be embalmed their happy hour,
And in another day, a kindred mood,
Haply together, or in solitude,
Recovered what the teeth of Time devour,
The joy, the bloom, and the illusive power,
Wherewith by their young blood they are endued
To move all enviable, framed in May,
And of an aspect sisterly with Truth:
Yet seek they with Time's laughing things to wed:
Who will be prompted on some pallid day
To lift the hueless flower and show that dead,
Even such, and by this token, is their youth.
poem by George Meredith
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Norwegian Wood
I once had a girl, or should I say, she once had me.
She showed me her room, is not it good, norwegian wood?
She asked me to stay and she told me to sit anywhere,
So I looked around and I noticed there wasnt a chair.
I sat on a rug, biding my time, drinking her wine.
We talked until two and then she said, its time for bed.
She told me she worked in the morning and started to laugh.
I told her I didnt and crawled off to sleep in the bath.
And when I awoke I was alone, this bird had flown.
So I lit a fire, is not it good, norwegian wood.
song performed by by Alanis Morissette
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Christmas Zen #2
pickup loads of wood,
stray dog running beside the tracks...
young girl hauling a baby,
old coat pulled across her face.
somebody somewhere is crying,
the hands on the clock slowly crawl,
... bare Christmas trees in a parking lot.
& already a line at the soup kitchen,
the sound of bells, water dripping from a spicket...
old man in coveralls, selling...
pickup loads of wood.
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Adonis
The gods did love Adonis, and for this
He died, ere time had furrowed his young cheek.
For Aphrodité slew him with a kiss.
He sighed one sigh, as though he fain would speak
The name he loved, but that his breath grown weak
Died on his lips. So died the summer breeze;
And all the wood was hushed a minute's space,
Where I stood listening underneath the trees,
Until a wood--chat from her secret place
Chirped in an undertone, ``He is not dead,
Not dead, for lo! the bloom upon his face
Is ruddy as the newly--blossomed rose
Which even yet is woven round his head.
But sleep, more sweet than waking dream, doth close
The laughter of his eyes. He is not dead.''
Alone in that fair wood the livelong day
And through the silent night I watched him near.
But in the morning he was fled away,
When broke the dawn upon me cold and clear.
I looked within the thicket where he lay;
And lo! the sod, which he had pressed in death,
Was white with blossoms, scattered from the may,
Which made the thick air sweet with their sweet breath.
But he was gone; and I went o'er the heath,
Clutching, like one distraught, the dim air grey
With dawning,--for a voice encompassed me,
Crying, ``Fair boy, thy youth was but a span,
Yet did it circle in eternity.
Thy epic was accomplishèd. A man
Fills but the measure of his destiny,
And thine was all complete. Ere age began
To mar the royal palace of thy youth
With upper storeys of less perfect plan,
Death, kindly Death, filled with immortal ruth,
Took back the trowel from the builder's hand,
And wrote his `fecit' on thy work of truth.''
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Used To Be My Girl
Good loving, the girl's got plenty good lovin'
Ask me how I know, and I'll tell you so
Used to be my girl
I respect her, when she was mine, I used to neglect her
Oh, she wanted more than I could give
But as long as I live, she'll be my girl
She (She used to be my girl)
Oh (She used to be my girl)
Oh, her personality, the girl was so right for me
She's my girl
And If I had the chance once more, I'd take her back
As a matter a fact, right away (I'd take her back)
I'd take her back
Not only good-lookin'
But lookin' smart, got a thing cooking
Ask me how I know, and I'll tell you so
She used to be my girl
(She used to be my girl) Used to be my girl
(She used to be my girl) My girl, my girl
Oh, her personality, the girl was so right for me
She's my girl
And If I had the chance, I'd take her back
As a matter a fact, right away, right away
Where's my girl?
Don't you know I'm way down, way down
Don't you know, way down, way down
Listen, ooh, good loving, the girl's got plenty good lovin'
Ask me how I know, and I'll tell you so
Used to be my girl, my girl
She used to be (She used to be my girl)
Oh, she used to be (She used to be my girl)
All mine, all mine, all mine (She used to be my girl)
As matter of fact, I want you back, I want you back
(She used to be my girl) Can't you come back right now?
(She used to be my girl) My girl, my girl, my girl
(She used to be my girl) Hmm, too hot to handle
(She used to be my girl) My girl, my girl, my girl
(She used to be my girl) She used to be, she used to be
(She used to be my girl)
(She used to be my girl) Aah, there she goes
(She used to be my girl)
(She used to be my girl)
(She used to be my girl)
(She used to be my girl) Used to be my girl
(She used to be my girl)
Oh, I love her, it's a matter of fact
(She used to be my girl) Too hot to handle
song performed by by Hall & Oates
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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