May I Not Weep With You
Let me come in where you sit weeping—aye,
Let me, who have not any child to die,
Weep with you for the little one whose love
I have known nothing of.
The little arms that slowly, slowly loosed
Then- pressure round your neck—the hands you vised
To kiss—such arms—such hands—I never knew,
May I not weep with you?
Fain would I be of service—say something
Between the tears, that would be comforting,
But Oh! so sadder than yourself am I,
Who have not any child to die!
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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Related quotes
Child In Your Arms
Child in your arms
Will always love you
Child in your arms
Will always love you
I know it's hard to understand
Why I was taken from your hands
One day we'll meet again
Mother and father hand in hand
Child in your arms
Will always love you
Child in your arms
Will always love you
Pick a star in the sky
And see the twinkle in my eye
As I send you my love
From heavens above
Child in your arms
Will always love you
Child in your arms
Will always love you
All the new mothers above
Giving their love
To the new born child
In heavens above
Mother father watch over me
And jesus will watch over you
I feel your love in heavens above
I'll see you here
When it's your time to come
Child in your arms
Will always love you
Child in your arms
Will always love you
Oh mummy dear
I see you and daddy so near
My life as just begun
In heavens above
So don't be afraid to live your life
Be glad and happy to what comes to you
I'll keep you safe as I watch over you
Child in your arms
Will always love you
Child in your arms
Will always love you
Sweet child in heaven
Sleep in peace
I hope you see all you want to see
Be who you want to be
God bless
poem by Dave Alan Walker
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Weep Not Child
weep not child
wipe those tears from your eyes
weep not child
weep not for you are not alone
weep not child
wipe those very tears
surely, over the years
but somewhat he above us cares
your struggle he bears
to wipe them off and clears
the shackles
and tackles
of all scuffles
and troubles
weep not child
for you are not alone.
®ntema, o.p.
[email protected]
©05.09.2011
1325h rs
poem by Onalethuso Petruss Ntema
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Make love to me slowly
Make love to me slowly
Kiss me by the neck slowly
touch me tenderly
not coldy
Grind your body next to mine
Let our union be divine
Make love to me slowly
Whisper sweet nothings in my ear
Tell me that you care
While you play with my hair
Explore my body
with your hands and study
Pleasure me
Open your eyes so you can see me
When I smile
My teeth dancing in a tile
Kiss me, Kiss me
Kiss me, Kiss me
Make love to me slowly
When you have been riding a horse
It expects you to stop
Make love to me slowly
My body is a temple
It is holy
Copyright 2005 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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There is no ice that will never melt
There is no ice that will never melt
Slowly, gradually
Though freeze to sleep forever
Or not be moved by emotion
Slowly, gradually
It’s not needed fire arms
It’s not needed the right law
Only time
Slowly, gradually
The cold drips in my hands
Like a burning candle
Like a bleeding body
Gone into puddle
There is no ice that will never melt
Slowly, gradually
Will it be a thin hope
Or silent word
Slowly, gradually
It’s not needed genius mind
It’s not needed global warning
Only time
Slowly, gradually
The crystal vanishes in my hands
Like a crying stone
Like a dying swan
Gone into water
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Opposites
The Half-Soled-Boots-With-Toecaps-Child
Walked out into the street
And splashed in all the pubbles till
She had such shocking feet
The Patent-Leather-Slipper-Child
Stayed quietly in the house
And sat upon the fender stool
As still as any mouse.
The Half-Soled-Boots-With-Toecaps-Child
Her hands were black as ink;
She would come running through the house
And begging for a drink.
The Patent-Leather-Slipper-Child
Her hands were white as snow;
She did not like to play around,
She only liked to sew.
The Half-Soled-Boots-With-Toecaps-Child
Lost hair ribbons galore;
She dropped them on the garden walks,
She dropped them on the floor.
The Patent-Leather-Slipper-Child
O thoughtful little girl!
She liked to walk quite soberly,
It kept her hair in curl.
The Half-Soled-Boots-With-Toecaps-Child
When she was glad or proud
Just flung her arms round Mother's neck
And kissed her very loud.
The Patent-Leather-Slipper-Child
Was shocked at such a sight,
She only offered you her cheek
At morning and at night.
O Half-Soled-Boots-With-Toecaps-Child
Your happy laughing face
Does like a scented Summer rose
Make sweet the dullest place.
O Patent-Leather-Slipper-Child
My dear, I'm well content
To have my daughter in my arms,
And not an ornament.
poem by Katherine Mansfield
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I'm Flying With You
Your hands round my waist
Your lips by my neck
Your scent and your taste
Heart flipped when we met
Your talented fingers
Play on your guitar
You forever linger
In my mind more
You make me smile
Like no - one else does
You make me laugh
It's you who I trust
Nervous when with you
But calm in your arms
I tell nothing but truth
You're comfortably warm
You tower high above me
You make me feel so safe
You band down to kiss me
It's you with whom I'll stay
Your lips soft and gentle
Your hands comforting
Without you I'm mental
But with you I'm flying
Tuesday 2nd September 2008
poem by Emma Woods
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To One in Allienation
I
Last night I saw you decked to meet
The coming of those most reluctant feet:
The little bonnet that you wear
When you would fain, for his sake, be more fair;
The primrose ribbons that so grace
The perfect pallor of your face;
The dark gown folded back about the throat,
And folds of lacework that denote
All that beneath them, just beneath them, lies:
God, for his eyes!
So the man came and took you; and we lay
So near and yet so far away,
You in his arms, awake for joy, and I
Awake for very misery,
Cursing a sleepless brain that would but scrawl
Your image on the aching wall,
That would but pang me with the sense
Of that most sweet accursed violence
Of lovers' hands that weary to caress
(Those hands!) your unforbidden loveliness.
And with the dawn that vision came again
To an unrested and recurrent brain:
To think your body, warm and white,
Lay in his arms all night;
That it was given him to surprise,
With those unhallowed eyes,
The secrets of your beauty, hid from me,
That I may never (may I never?) see:
I who adore you, he who finds in you
(Poor child!) a half-forgotten point of view.
II
As I lay on the stranger's bed,
And clasped the stranger-woman I had hired,
Desiring only memory dead
Of all that I had once desired;
It was then that I wholly knew
How dearly I had loved you, my lost friend;
While I am I, and you are you,
How I must love you to the end.
For I lay in her arms awake,
Awake and cursing the indifferent night,
That ebbed so slowly, for your sake,
My heart's desire, my soul's delight;
For I lay in her arms awake,
Awake in such a solitude of shame,
That when I kissed her, for your sake,
My lips were sobbing on your name.
poem by Arthur Symons
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The Son In Old Age
Thy noble face, Regina, calls to mind
My poor lost little one, my latest born.
He was a gift from God--a sign of pardon--
That child vouchsafed me in my eightieth year!
I to his little cradle went, and went,
And even while 'twas sleeping, talked to it.
For when one's very old, one is a child!
Then took it up and placed it on my knees,
And with both hands stroked down its soft, light hair--
Thou wert not born then--and he would stammer
Those pretty little sounds that make one smile!
And though not twelve months old, he had a mind.
He recognized me--nay, knew me right well,
And in my face would laugh--and that child-laugh,
Oh, poor old man! 'twas sunlight to my heart.
I meant him for a soldier, ay, a conqueror,
And named him George. One day--oh, bitter thought!
The child played in the fields. When thou art mother,
Ne'er let thy children out of sight to play!
The gypsies took him from me--oh, for what?
Perhaps to kill him at a witch's rite.
I weep!--now, after twenty years--I weep
As if 'twere yesterday. I loved him so!
I used to call him 'my own little king!'
I was intoxicated with my joy
When o'er my white beard ran his rosy hands,
Thrilling me all through.
poem by Victor Hugo
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Manchild
And every time you crave for me im, here
And anything you hunger for Ill share
And I will be quietly standing by
While slowly I am dying inside
Hold me in your arms
And let me be the one who can feel
Like I am a child in love
Every time I talk to you youre down
And every time you need a laugh Im around
And when you forget Im here Im not
It isnt really me that you forgot
Hold me in your arms
And let me be the one who can feel
Like I am a child in love
Whisper now
And tell me how youll watch me
And tell me somehow Im gonna be alright
song performed by by Eels
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Her Child A Soldier
Her burdened soul, weeps dry tears.
Longing for the heart of her child.
A soldier.
Dark treacherous night.
Hidden plights.
Sad, saddened life.
Lost again.
Weeping men... Lost sins.
Forge on, forgiven sights.
And heights.
Quiet stories, unfound glories.
Oh, the heart of her child.
A soldier.
Dayless sleep, nightless dreams.
Only a man.
Desires arms of peace.
Peace... oh peace, how tragic does it weep.
Hopeful smiles come and pass.
Again to ravage a life.
Changed.
An invisible cage - holds faith.
Hope, … anger, … rage, … caged, … at bay.
Visible faces, and unseen places.
Oh, the truth of her child.
A soldier.
Her burdened soul, weeps dry tears.
Longing for the heart of her child... a soldier.
poem by Karen van Wyk
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The Saddest Fate
To touch a broken lute,
To strike a jangled string,
To strive with tones forever mute
The dear old tunes to sing--
What sadder fate could any heart befall?
Alas! dear child, never to sing at all.
To sigh for pleasures flown,
To weep for withered flowers,
To count the blessings we have known,
Lost with the vanished hours--
What sadder fate could any heart befall?
Alas! dear child, ne'er to have known them at all.
To dream of love and rest,
To know the dream has past,
To bear within an aching breast
Only a void at last--
What sadder fate could any heart befall?
Alas! dear child, ne'er to have loved at all.
To trust an unknown good,
To hope, but all in vain,
Over a far-off bliss to brood,
Only to find it pain--
What sadder fate could any soul befall?
Alas! dear child, never to hope at all.
poem by Anonymous Americas
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Weep No More
Mary, don't you weep no more
Mary, don't you weep no more
'Cuz, I got your letter today
Pack my bags and I'm on my way
So, don't you weep no more
Don't you weep no more
Dry your eyes
Don't you shed no tears
The sun is risin'
So, put away your fears
Cuz, I know I once done you wrong
I want to say I'm sorry
And I'm comin' back home
So, don't you weep no more
Don' t you weep no more
I hear your voice in the wind
And I feel your tears in the rain
Shadows of night are falling
Can't you hear me call your name
I'm comin' home
I'm comin' home
So, don't you weep
Don't you weep
Don't you weep
Don't you weep no more
song performed by by Bad Company
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Mother and her Dead Child
Looking back
it seemed
the child
was not to be
always there,
not through lack
of love or care,
but something
that came to her
in dreams of dread
at night asleep in bed.
She tries to retake
in dreams
the child back,
to pretend
that through
wishful thinking
she can make up
the lack.
Arms fold
into cradle
as once they had
when child lay
in arm's hold,
snuggled
and warm,
alive and moving,
seeking out with
eyes and fingers
her mother's dug.
Rock-abye-baby
no more,
the arms
and hands
redundant,
the last time
she recalls
the dead child
in arms,
rocking
back and forth,
as if this might cure
and bring back
to life,
might stir open
eyes, jog open
lips and mouth
to suck.
Not to be
just the memory,
ill luck.
poem by Terry Collett
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My Overwhelming Wish To Have A Child
A child is a bless from heaven,
A pure being that came into the world,
Like a creation of a throbbing love,
Between a man and a woman through the grace of God.
I am a sensitive woman,
In every little thing i feel life,
I wish one day i'll hold my child in my arms,
And crying happily when my child calls me "mom".
Nothing can compare a mom's feeling,
To hold in her hands those little hands,
Those shinning shy eyes are watching her with hope,
She is all the universe of her beloved child.
My biggest wish is to have a child,
To live together wonderful moments,
To enjoy its first little steps, its smile,
And each day with joy will be fulfilled.
I take this life and live it,
All vicissitudes i'll surpass,
Only those deepest pain you cannot heal,
My overwhelming wish to have a child.
poem by Cristina Teodor
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Time To Come Home©
Come home, my child,
Be not afraid.
Come home to the arms
Of I who you made.
Come home, my child,
Into the light,
Out of the darkness
Of that cold night.
You are not leaving
You'll be ever near.
Come home, my child,
Be of no fear.
Reach to the gentle
Hands from above,
Come home, my child,
To My boundless love.
poem by Joanna E. King
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It Starts With A Kiss
It starts with a kiss,
That brings the world down,
A kiss,
That makes my body give in,
It starts with a kiss,
And your hands,
Slowly moving down my back,
And lifting me up to put my legs around you,
It starts with a kiss,
Our lips will do what they do,
My lips will part,
When yours do,
It starts with a kiss,
With my hands through your hair,
And with your hands on my waist,
Man this world seems to quake,
It starts with a kiss,
Man this is so fair,
Your lips feel so good,
On mine that just sit their,
It starts with a kiss,
That makes the whole room stop,
They see sparks fly,
And the room glow in a light so pure,
It starts with a kiss,
But when your lips leave mine,
My neck feels their company,
Then my body gives into you,
It starts with a kiss,
Your lips seem to know what to do,
Cause they are moving up and down my neck,
Once that ends they find my lips again,
It starts with a kiss,
And my body sub comes to you,
And once again,
The Kiss Is Where It All Begins! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
A Song Of Spring
The Spring comes slowly up this way,
Slowly, slowly,
Under a snood of hodden grey.
The black and white for her array,
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.
Where is her green that was so gay?
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.
Unto a world too sick for May,
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.
Where are the lads that used to play?
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.
She has no heart for holiday,
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.
The trees are out in Heaven they say.
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up our way.
poem by Katharine Tynan
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My Sweet Child
they took it
they took it all
they took it all away from me
sit and weep sit and weep
i want it
i want it all
i want it all back to me
why can't they give it back to me
sit and weep sit and weep
my sweet child
if words could give
i would give it all
i would give it all
i would give it all back to your heart
but i can't
so i sit
sit and weep
sit and weep
with you
weep wipe away the wounds
i pray
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Sitting By Your Self
THIS child needs your love,
this child sees himself in
mamas arms,
this child sings,
this child laughs,
this child cries, when your
sitting by your self.
THIS child sees your tears,
this child waits untill its
past.
this child sings,
this child laughs,
this child cries, when your
sitting by your self.
THIS child takes your hand,
this child leads you to a
chair.
this child sings,
this child laughs,
this child takes away your pain.
poem by David Gerardino
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Ni-Chan’s Dirge For Yen-Oey
SO soon asleep! Now must the coming years
Weep ignorantly their loss they cannot know,
And life miss ever what has never been
We weep to-day, let theirs be sadder tears
Who have not seen thee near as we have seen,
Who shall but learn a hope died long ago.
Alas for flowers untimely winds have broken,
That should have scattered seed of following flowers!
Alas for ruin of unbuilded towers!
Alas for ripening words that die unspoken!
But let them weep with sadder tears than ours
Who shall but learn a hope died long ago,
A world's hope long ago.
poem by Augusta Davies Webster
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