A Poetical Epistle To Sir William Bennet, Bart. of Grubbat
My trembling muse your honour does address,
That it's a bold attempt most humbly I confess;
If you'll encourage her young fagging flight,
She'll upwards soar and mount Parnassus' height.
If little things with great may be compared
In Rome it so with the divine Virgil fared;
The tuneful bard Augustus did inspire,
Made his great genius flash poetic fire;
But if upon my flight your honour frowns,
The muse folds up her wings, and dying - justice owns.
poem by James Thomson
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Within The Next 7 Days!
You and your poetry,
Me and my poetry,
Selected! !
In this world,
With your muse,
With my muse,
Of this honour,
Of this love,
Of this peace,
As a poet,
Of your new poem,
Of my new poem,
Within the next 7 days!
But, bering very excited about it.
cash, bash, lash, mash, wash, ash, flash!
of your muse,
of my muse,
The prizes,
The sizes,
Seizes! !
As a participant,
And like a friendly reminder;
However, being based on your previously published work.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Ode X: To The Muse
I.
Queen of my songs, harmonious maid,
Ah why hast thou withdrawn thy aid?
Ah why forsaken thus my breast
With inauspicious damps oppress'd?
Where is the dread prophetic heat,
With which my bosom wont to beat?
Where all the bright mysterious dreams
Of haunted groves and tuneful streams,
That woo'd my genius to divinest themes?
II.
Say, goddess, can the festal board,
Or young Olympia's form ador'd;
Say, can the pomp of promis'd fame
Relume thy faint, thy dying flame?
Or have melodious airs the power
To give one free, poetic hour?
Or, from amid the Elysian train,
The soul of Milton shall i gain,
To win thee back with some celestial strain?
III.
O powerful strain! o sacred soul!
His numbers every sense controul:
And now again my bosom burns;
The Muse, the Muse herself returns.
Such on the banks of Tyne, confess'd,
I hail'd the fair immortal guest,
When first she seal'd me for her own,
Made all her blissful treasures known,
And bade me swear to follow Her alone.
poem by Mark Akenside
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In Honour Of You
In honour of you I'll live my life
To the very best of my ability
I'll recall and apply every wise counsel you ever offered
Savour every word you said trying to raise whatever
Cherish your every attempt to make me feel
In honour of you I'll face the pain gladly
I'll be thankful for the occasion to gain insight
I'll do my utmost to meet with equanimity
Every asshole angel put on my path
Welcoming each challenge as a great opportunity to grow
In honour of you - who has shown me being
Who's own pain is never ever spoken
Who's long suffering is celebrated as a great gift
Who's love and teaching nourishes so, so many
Many and I see life with far, far clearer eyes
In honour of you, who's feet I humbly touch
I shall greet each day with limitless joy
Capture every sparkling moment in my heart's nest
Move forward into new projects, new beginnings
Holding ever and always the nearness of your gracious presence
In honour of you I'll continue traveling
Exploring other cultures, other peoples, other points of view
I'll become fluent in la lingua italiana, visit the Aeolian islands
Find some tenderness for India; visit an ashram; practice Yoga
Everything and anything - all in honour and appreciation of you
poem by Winston T. Gylles
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Like the Wings of Love
To gaze at me is like the wings of love,
And to learn from me is like the muse of peace;
For i am left alone in the garden of love,
And i need you to be around me.
I am well to look at and you are well to look at,
She is well to look at and he is well to look at;
But i have to teach you my duty when the morning comes,
For peace is the muse of my sweet love.
Old age has yet his or her honour and,
To gaze at me is like the wings of love;
But i am like the loneliest fish in the lonely sea,
And like the muse of your love which toils daily to succeed!
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Ecstasy
The shore-lark soars to his topmost flight,
Sings at the height where morning springs,
What though his voice be lost in the light,
The light comes dropping from his wings.
Mount, my soul, and sing at the height
Of thy clear flight in the light and the air,
Heard or unheard in the night in the light
Sing there! Sing there!
poem by Duncan Campbell Scott
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Robert Burns
Immortal Robert Burns of Ayr,
There's but few poets can with you compare;
Some of your poems and songs are very fine:
To "Mary in Heaven" is most sublime;
And then again in your "Cottar's Saturday Night,"
Your genius there does shine most bright,
As pure as the dewdrops of the night.
Your "Tam O'Shanter" is very fine,
Both funny, racy, and divine,
From John O'Groats to Dumfries
All critics consider it to be a masterpiece,
And, also, you have said the same,
Therefore they are not to blame.
And in my own opinion both you and they are right,
For your genius there does sparkle bright,
Which I most solemnly declare
To thee, Immortal Bard of Ayr!
Your "Banks and Braes of Bonnie Doon"
Is sweet and melodious in its tune,
And the poetry is moral and sublime,
And in my opinion nothing can be more fine.
Your "Scots wha hae wi' Wallace bled"
Is most beautiful to hear sung or read;
For your genius there does shine as bright,
Like unto the stars of night
Immortal Bard of Ayr! I must conclude my muse
To speak in praise of thee does not refuse,
For you were a mighty poet, few could with you compare,
And also an honour to Scotland, for your genius it is rare.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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Nasigri
Your temper is as bad as a man with whitlows,
But i am here to show you the way to doing things with love and care;
for a man og honour doesn't need to fight,
And like the sense of maturity in the land of your muse.
I am here to show you the way of love and sincere care,
So lean on me and let me help you with the sweet muse of my mind;
For, we are all the victims of the circumstances on this earth,
And i know how the river feels when it enters the sea!
But, the night is still young in this village called Nasigri.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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My Muse
Come, songwriters, present your best,
And earn a lovely woman's praise;
You singers come, let your voices
Be heard and used well to serve her:
And dance forth, you nymphs and angels;
Wonderful music for my Muse.
Her body is love's paradise,
There are no eyes as bright and true;
She is wiser than the poet,
And fairer than a comely queen:
Yes all perfections do combine
To beautify my mystic Muse.
She's Womans's choicest example,
Where honour, wisdom, wit and wile
Are all united in her heart.
The Graces claim her heritage:
All virtues that are most divine
Surely shine clearest in my Muse.
poem by MacGregor Tagliaferro
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Sonnet LXXXIV: Highway
Highway, since you my chief Parnassus be,
And that my Muse, to some ears not unsweet,
Tempers her words to trampling horses' feet
More oft than to a chamber melody.
Now, blessed you bear onward blessed me
To her, where I my heart, safe-left, shall meet:
My Muse and I must you of duty greet
With thanks and wishes, wishing thankfully.
Be you still fair, honour'd by public heed;
By no encroachment wrong'd, nor time forgot,
Nor blam'd for blood, nor sham'd for sinful deed;
And that you know I envy you no lot
Of highest wish, I wish you so much bliss,--
Hundreds of years you Stella's feet may kiss.
poem by Philip Sidney
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Astrophel and Stella LXXXIV: HIGHWAY
Highway, since you my chief Parnassus be,
And that my Muse, to some ears not unsweet,
Tempers her words to trampling horses' feet
More oft than to a chamber melody.
Now, blessed you bear onward blessed me
To her, where I my heart, safe-left, shall meet:
My Muse and I must you of duty greet
With thanks and wishes, wishing thankfully.
Be you still fair, honour'd by public heed;
By no encroachment wrong'd, nor time forgot,
Nor blam'd for blood, nor sham'd for sinful deed;
And that you know I envy you no lot
Of highest wish, I wish you so much bliss,--
Hundreds of years you Stella's feet may kiss.
poem by Philip Sidney
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The Highway
Highway, since you my chief Parnassus be,
And that my Muse, to some ears not unsweet,
Tempers her words to trampling horses' feet
More oft than to a chamber-melody,--
Now blessed you bear onward blessèd me
To her, where I my heart, safe-left, shall meet;
My Muse and I must you of duty greet
With thanks and wishes, wishing thankfully;
Be you still fair, honour'd by public heed;
By no encroachment wrong'd, nor time forgot;
Nor blamed for blood, nor shamed for sinful deed;
And that you know I envy you no lot
Of highest wish, I wish you so much bliss,
Hundreds of years you Stella's feet may kiss!
poem by Philip Sidney
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Love, The Soul Of Poetry
WHen first Alexis did in Verse delight,
His Muse in Low, but Graceful Numbers walk't,
And now and then a little Proudly stalk't;
But never aim'd at any noble Flight:
The Herds, the Groves, the gentle purling Streams,
Adorn'd his Song, and were his highest Theams.
But Love these Thoughts, like Mists, did soon disperse,
Enlarg'd his Fancy, and set free his Muse,
Biding him more Illustrious Subjects choose;
The Acts of Gods, and God-like Men reherse.
From thence new Raptures did his Breast inspire,
His scarce Warm-Heart converted was to Fire.
Th' exalted Poet rais'd by this new Flame,
With Vigor flys, where late he crept along,
And Acts Divine, in a Diviner Song,
Commits to the eternal Trompe of Fame.
And thus Alexis does prove Love to be,
As the Worlds Soul, the Soul of Poetry.
poem by Anne Killigrew
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A Great Home
There are not only vessels of gold and silver in a great home,
But also of wood and clay items to satisfy the muse of beauty;
Some for honour and some for dishonour,
But that is how the world is around us today.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Tremendous Ascension
Calm wonder of the night
Has made love seem well tight.
Before me, a fair sight
Released joy, which took flight.
That great joy ascends right
From the heart that goes bright
With heavenly soft light.
Its effect great, not slight
To the tremendous height
With love that cannot blight,
Fills my soul with great might.
Such joy with that I plight.
poem by Obinna Kenechukwu Eruchie
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My Lover Last Night
Attention and admiration,
With man-made laws and man-made alters;
But i can see the antural pile of rock in my view,
For you became my lover last night.
Set up the symbols and let me set you free,
For my love is what you need to move on;
But the brazen serpent stand next to you!
It is like a reminder and,
It is like the muse of love for the first time;
But with an abomination from the means of deception!
With glory and honour i will respect your muse,
But listen to me when i do speak;
Because rebellion is no answer to this love around you!
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Presenting yourself
Presenting yourself
In all poems
And directing me
To write
This and that
Calling these fine
You made me great.
Living in this earth
I'm thankful to you
I'm just an instrument
In your hand
I'm getting self respect
Honour with family
Kith and kins
Friends and well-wishers
You appreciate me
And you made me great.
Presenting yourself
In everything and
Doing everything
Only for me
You made me great
Thanks and it is
I know not sufficient.
I'm nothing
You are really great.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Mr. And Mrs. James Akpan
I was seen by the eyes when i was around you people!
And like the days ahead of the sun to satisfy the muse of mankind;
But, the new moon of green ears of barley came in! !
And, it was with joy all over in the land of beautiful flowers.
Old habits are very hard to break!
But, this muse of yesterday now rigisters itself once againt today;
For your love introduced my muse to you,
But, what is man that you care so much about him?
Your words have encouraged those who stumbled,
Your love has now touched the hearts of many! !
And, your peace is very much known to us all;
However, i really came in to help your children.
Managements are really yours! !
But, to Mount Zion i will rejoice with the muse of my success;
And like the very words of Mrs. Akpan to me when i took up the contract,
But today, i am what i am because, i never went overboard!
What is life after all?
Whaz is love after all?
What is care after all?
What is peace after all?
What is untiy after all?
For, i really took your children like my own brothers and sisters;
And today, the benefits of my teachings had really made them great!
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Sonnet- Thousand’th Sonnet Of Doctor John Celes
A Doctor-Bard of India, at last writ,
A thousand sonnets in a record time;
And soon his face will be on earth limelit!
God’s Muse’s gift will make his life sublime.
Serendipitously, God gave this gift!
The humble Bard took up the challenge great;
He wrote two thousand poems very swift;
A world-record in Poetry till date.
The Bard was very sad when he began;
His sadness has not quit his life as yet;
With God beside, there’s no worry for man;
The Sonnet-King has world placed in his debt!
Great things have humble beginnings in life;
But, man must never give up ev’n in strife.
31-5-2001
poem by John Celes
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On The Poetic Muse
Far, far above this world I soar,
And almost nature lose,
Aerial regions to explore,
With this ambitious Muse.
My towering thoughts with pinions rise,
Upon the gales of song,
Which waft me through the mental skies,
With music on my tongue.
My Muse is all on mystic fire,
Which kindles in my breast;
To scenes remote she doth aspire,
As never yet exprest.
Wrapt in the dust she scorns to lie,
Call'd by new charms away;
Nor will she e'er refuse to try
Such wonders to survey.
Such is the quiet bliss of soul,
When in some calm retreat,
Where pensive thoughts like streamlets roll,
And render silence sweet;
And when the vain tumultuous crowd
Shakes comfort from my mind,
My muse ascends above the cloud
And leaves the noise behind.
With vivid flight she mounts on high
Above the dusky maze,
And with a perspicacious eye
Doth far 'bove nature gaze.
poem by George Moses Horton
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One Who Dares to Be The Maverick
The art of flying low...
Keeps the wings of one,
From becoming emotionally attached.
And scratches received,
Aren't cut deep to bleed.
A healing perceived...
And done,
Continues in a flight undetected.
One can land or choose to soar.
As long as the height of one's flight...
Is accepted as a temporary blindness,
That can be easily excused...
With a taste for nonconformity,
Expected.
And this is overlooked,
By those unaccustomed...
To take anyone serious enough,
To fly as high as they wish...
Without attracting attention,
To the ease of it!
Keeping such missions successfully gained.
And maintained...
With patience,
By the one who dares to be the maverick!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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