The Lost Path
Alone they walked--their fingers knit together,
And swaying listlessly as might a swing
Wherein Dan Cupid dangled in the weather
Of some sun-flooded afternoon of Spring.
Within the clover-fields the tickled cricket
Laughed lightly as they loitered down the lane,
And from the covert of the hazel-thicket
The squirrel peeped and laughed at them again.
The bumble-bee that tipped the lily-vases
Along the road-side in the shadows dim,
Went following the blossoms of their faces
As though their sweets must needs be shared with him.
Between the pasture bars the wondering cattle
Stared wistfully, and from their mellow bells
Shook out a welcoming whose dreamy rattle
Fell swooningly away in faint farewells.
And though at last the gloom of night fell o'er them,
And folded all the landscape from their eyes,
They only know the dusky path before them
Was leading safely on to Paradise.
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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Related quotes
Ticklish Tom
Did you hear 'bout Ticklish Tom?
He got tickled by his mom.
Wiggled and giggled and fell on the floor,
Laughed and rolled right out the door.
All the way to school and then
He got tickled by his friends.
Laughed till he fell off his stool,
Laughed and rolled right out of school
Down the stairs and finally stopped
Till he got tickled by a cop.
And all the more that he kept gigglin',
All the more folks kept ticklin'.
He shrieked and screamed and rolled around,
Laughed his way right out of town.
Through the country down the road,
He got tickled by a toad.
Past the mountains across the plain,
Tickled by the falling rain,
Tickled by the soft brown grass,
Tickled by the clouds that passed.
Giggling, rolling on his back
He rolled on the railroad track.
Rumble, rumble, whistle, roar-
Tom ain't ticklish any more.
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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A Song of Wrong [ You Laughed and Laughed and Laughed ]
In your eyes
My song is one of wrong
Intruding into your heart
And you laughed and
Laughed and laughed.
.
In your heart, you knew
I could be there,
Cause you brought me here.
And you laughed and
Laughed and laughed.
.
In your soul,
You knew I want you
In my home.
'cause you brought me hope.
And you laughed and
Laughed and laughed.
.
You laughed at my wrong
You laughed at my right.
You laughed over
Everything I do.
.
And now, my love I give to you
But you shut your eyes and
Laughed and laughed
And laughed.
.
You laughed at my walk
You laughed at my song.
.
You walked your walk
Into my life of wrong
Knowing all along
You could change me in all.
.
But you shot your heart
To my love
And you walked away from
My heart, and you laughed
And laughed and laughed.
poem by Efe Benjamin
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The Guardian Angels
A Ballad
Father John in the green lane went
And he drew his robe full tight,
'I would,' quoth he, 'I were home again
For there's evil in the night.
'I would,' quoth he, 'the gold I bear
Were safe with the poor and old,
For strange the fear that follows me
That my eyes cannot behold.'
He looked him left and there he saw
A white rose climb and cling,
He looked him right and in the brake
A wild bird shook his wing.
He looked him back and far there stood
The old church tall and dim,
Yet on the lonely path there came
A terror strange to him.
Without the shadow of the trees
That bent above his way,
Where lost the moon her silver light,
He stood at last at bay.
And on his gown, from his pale brow
Fell great tears of his fright;
His shaking hands held close the gold
Wrapped in its cloth so white.
He knelt him down upon his knee
And prayed the Lord to hear,
'Christ, loosen Thou these laggard feet
That hold me slow in fear.
'Oh, strengthen Thou this childish heart
That trembles all afraid,
In pity for the calling sick
Who die without my aid.
'And let me bring all safely through
The shadows of the night,
The gold I bear for old and poor,
Still Thou this strange affright.'
And as he prayed from off his heart
Fear's clutching fingers fell,
A holy joy grew in his heart
He knew that all was well.
He turned him left and stayed to take
A white rose from her tree,
He turned him right and lilted low
A wild bird melody.
He looked him back and smiling saw
The tall church guarding him,
And then all fearless laughing sped
Through shadows strange and dim.
When but a year had passed away
There came before his gate,
A dying man who 'Succour,' cried
'Before it be too late.'
'Oh, shrive me, Father, ere I die,'
The moaning stranger said;
He took him to his own hearth side
And laid him on his bed.
'Oh, Father! Father! hear me now
And let me rest in peace.'
'Now speak, my son, and tell your sin
To give your soul release.'
'It was one night a year ago—
Sweet Mary, ease my pain—
I followed far your toiling feet
Within a lonely lane.
'The red gold for the old and poor
You had beneath your gown,
I hid within a darksome place
Where I could strike you down.'
Now Father John he smiled and leant
In pity by the bed,
'I did disarm you by my prayer,
I thank the Lord,' he said.
'I went in fear upon my path
I knew some danger lay,
And lone I knelt upon the road
A little while to pray.'
The dying man he raised his head
And laughed both long and loud,
'Oh, ne'er a prayer would hold my hand
Or keep you from your shroud.
'But by you went two mighty men
To guard you either side,
Else had my dagger reached your heart
And surely you had died.'
Then Father John upon his knees
Bent low his holy head,
'God's angels walked beside me there
Lest you my blood should shed
My guardian angels walked by me,
I thank Thee, Lord,' he said.
poem by Dora Sigerson Shorter
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A journey through an interminable poetic landscape
In the midst of the dense thicket
of the poet-milky wood, just beyond the gas pumps
standing as lonely as a trio of crows
waiting for a poet’s metaphor, and just beyond
where the pavement ends,
the road divided:
I took the road less travelled,
- unlike, say, a wise purveyor of ice-cream;
pausing only to think, as the evening
fell like sadness from my cigarette, that
the other road will be for me
for ever, the road I did not take
into the landscape which I did not see,
in the time that will not return;
but the road I took, led past
plum-trees, showering Spring’s wild daffodils
as with a late Spring snow, falling quietly
like the sighs of young slant-eyed girls thinking of love;
I’m glad I took that road; for later, when Autumn
with its mists and mellow plumful fruitiness,
came silently, so silently,
I took that road again; although I’m told
the other road was much the same;
but now, as the brown leaves fell and swirled,
the small, hard plums had fallen;
I took some home, put them in the ice-box;
were they juicy, cold on my morning lips?
No. They’d gone; along with the girl
I’d brought home, and the crate of beer;
just a note on the ice-box door:
‘I used to worship your poetry; now
I know that you’ve sold out… loser…’
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Everybody Laughed But You
Everybody laughed when I told them
I wanted you, I wanted you
Everybody grinned they humoured me
They thought that someone had spiked my tea
Everybody screamed they told me you
Would cost the moon, we'll be there soon
Everybody laughed till they were blue
They didn't believe my words were true
Everybody laughed but you
It's easy to lose touch with all the friends
You like so much or liked so much
Everybody laughed they couldn't take me seriously
Abandoned me
Sometimes I would read of things they'd done in magazines
They made the scene
Everybody left with such important things to do
But I'm not blue
Everybody left but you
Everybody left but you
Many years have passed
And some have fallen by the way I heard them say
Everybody dreamed but those who fell
Are sleeping now, they're sleeping now
Everybody climbed like ivy to the top most branch
It was their chance
Everybody grasped till they were through
It's all they thought that they could do
Cause everybody fell
Everybody fell
Everybody fell but you
song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Dream Of Long Ago
Lying listless in the mosses
Underneath a tree that tosses
Flakes of sunshine, and embosses
Its green shadow with the snow--
Drowsy-eyed, I sink in slumber
Born of fancies without number--
Tangled fancies that encumber
Me with dreams of long ago.
Ripples of the river singing;
And the water-lilies swinging
Bells of Parian, and ringing
Peals of perfume faint and fine,
While old forms and fairy faces
Leap from out their hiding-places
In the past, with glad embraces
Fraught with kisses sweet as wine.
Willows dip their slender fingers
O'er the little fisher's stringers,
While he baits his hook and lingers
Till the shadows gather dim;
And afar off comes a calling
Like the sounds of water falling,
With the lazy echoes drawling
Messages of haste to him.
Little naked feet that tinkle
Through the stubble-fields, and twinkle
Down the winding road, and sprinkle
Little mists of dusty rain,
While in pasture-lands the cattle
Cease their grazing with a rattle
Of the bells whose clappers tattle
To their masters down the lane.
Trees that hold their tempting treasures
O'er the orchard's hedge embrasures,
Furnish their forbidden pleasures
As in Eden lands of old;
And the coming of the master
Indicates a like disaster
To the frightened heart that faster
Beats pulsations manifold.
Puckered lips whose pipings tingle
In staccato notes that mingle
Musically with the jingle-
Haunted winds that lightly fan
Mellow twilights, crimson-tinted
By the sun, and picture-printed
Like a book that sweetly hinted
Of the Nights Arabian.
Porticoes with columns plaited
And entwined with vines and freighted
With a bloom all radiated
With the light of moon and star;
Where some tender voice is winging
In sad flights of song, and singing
To the dancing fingers flinging
Dripping from the sweet guitar.
Would my dreams were never taken
From me: that with faith unshaken
I might sleep and never waken
On a weary world of woe!
Links of love would never sever
As I dreamed them, never, never!
I would glide along forever
Through the dreams of long ago.
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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A Song Of Long Ago
A song of Long Ago:
Sing it lightly--sing it low--
Sing it softly--like the lisping of the lips we used to know
When our baby-laughter spilled
From the glad hearts ever filled
With music blithe as robin ever trilled!
Let the fragrant summer-breeze,
And the leaves of locust-trees,
And the apple-buds and blossoms, and the wings of honey-bees,
All palpitate with glee,
Till the happy harmony
Brings back each childish joy to you and me.
Let the eyes of fancy turn
Where the tumbled pippins burn
Like embers in the orchard's lap of tangled grass and fern,--
There let the old path wind
In and out and on behind
The cider-press that chuckles as we grind.
Blend in the song the moan
Of the dove that grieves alone,
And the wild whir of the locust, and the bumble's drowsy drone;
And the low of cows that call
Through the pasture-bars when all
The landscape fades away at evenfall.
Then, far away and clear,
Through the dusky atmosphere,
Let the wailing of the kildee be the only sound we hear:
O sad and sweet and low
As the memory may know
Is the glad-pathetic song of Long Ago!
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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When The Night
Well the night was beautiful and mellow, mellow
And the light of the night fell on me, fell on me
You said right / made me a happy fellow, fellow
And the light of the night fell on me
I never will forget the night
I held you close, I held you tight
Oh darling, dont you know
The way you made my senses reel?
I fell in love and now I feel
Like I will never go
Oh little darling dont you know
That the night was marvelous and yellow, yellow
And the light of the night fell on me
And the light of the night fell on me
I never will forget the way
You taught me how to swing and sway
Oh darling dont you know
That ever since that special day
My mind can only contemplate
The magic that you show
Oh little darling dont you know
That the night is beautiful and yellow, yellow
And the light of the night fell on me
Yeah the light of the night fell on me etc.
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Laughed and Laughed and Laughed
I told you I was in love,
But you laughed and
Laughed and laughed.
.
I gave you my love,
But you did not give me yours,
Instead you kept mine, and
Gave yours to another.
.
You laughed at my song,
You laughed at my walk,
Then I danced my magic dance
to the rhythm of the talking
drums pleading.
.
But you shot your eyes, and laughed
And laughed and laughed.
poem by Efe Benjamin
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The Woman at the Crossroad Who Laughed
As I walked up the pavement, up the slight hill
to the traffic lights at the crossroads outside the station,
I saw her waiting to cross.
Or rather, I saw first, her laugh..
She held the hand of her son
as she exchanged words with a passing friend
and laughed..
and what I saw in her eyes, her whole face,
as she laughed, was that as she laughed -
(did she know this? How could I tell her, a stranger?
Lady, lady, at the crossroad of our lives,
I’m writing this poem for you now…)
as she laughed, while she laughed,
I saw that she was in touch, the whole of her,
with her deepest self – just that… all that…
and as I saw that self, which was
(Lady, are you reading this?)
the perfection of perfection, all that’s perfect…
it was as if – no, it was just so –
her self looked at me, and so
the perfect looked at the perfect;
herself and mine together laughed,
laughed at imperfection
and as the perfect looked, it saw perfection
spreading through my eyes from our shared self
so that her son was perfect; and her friend was perfect;
and all around us, every they and it were perfect..
(Lady, Lady, at the Cross’s foot,
was it like this for You?)
the light turned green. And we were free
to cross the road; and
free to live; and
free to laugh away illusion; and
free to be ourselves; forever,
in that time which is forever.
Lady, by my faith, this by my hand;
and with my life I do yet swear
upon my life, this to be true;
Lady, hear, in this my orison,
there are no sins
to be remembered.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Calico Plains
(matraca berg/mike noble)
Sweet abilena looks out at the midwestern sky
Sweet seventeen with a faraway look in her eyes
She said, I feel like a bird in a cage
But come september Im flying away
I said, Im gonna miss you then I made her promise to write
Since we were tall as the corn in the spring
We shared every secret, shared every dream
So anxious to grow in the new summer rain
And bloom like a rose on the calico plains
How could she hear as we laughed on that warm summer night
The tiny heart of the baby she carried inside
I stood beside her when september came
Watched her get married and caught the bouquet
And like those hand me down dresses she gave me
I made her dreams mine
From a seat by the window on wings made of steel
I stared at the patchwork over the fields
Where young tears that once fell like warm summer rain
Were turning to snow on the calico plains
Sweet abilena looks out at the midwestern sky
Closer to thirty but farther away in her eyes
She holds her babies like she holds her dreams
Each night she kisses and rocks them to sleep while
She reads the letters she makes me promise to write
Sweet abliena looks out at the midwestern sky
song performed by by Pam Tillis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If the Sky Fell?
If the sky fell
Then we would
All go to hell.
We would be trapped
In darkness, and
Our world would be reckless.
If the sky fell
Then our sun, moon,
Stars would go away
And with no planes,
We couldn't go away.
If the sky fell
Then superman would be weak,
And mankind would be sick;
Then we would be done done away with.
The day would be our last
and time a thing of the past
As we are propelled into
An eternity of night.
We would have no light
To see smiles on faces.
If the sky fell, then fright
and fear would prevail
And take control of us,
As shoulder to lean on
Would be gone.
If the sky fell
It would be hell!
My sky fell,
The day you walked away:
The day you streaked me
With you last radiant ray,
My sky fell!
Copyright © 2008 Leslie Alexis
poem by Leslie Alexis
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Sure Got Cold After The Rain Fell
Album: Sharp Dressed Men: A Tribute To ZZ Top
(Billy F. Gibbons)
Rain fell this mornin',
Made me feel so bad
On account of my baby
Walked off with another man.
Like takin' eyesight from the blind man
And money from the poor
That woman took my lovin'
And walked on out that door
And it sure got cold after the rain fell
Not from the sky, from my eye
--- Instrumental ---
Somebody tell me
Makes a man feel this way
Like a river without water,
Like night without day
And it sure got cold after the rain fell
Not from the sky, from my eye
--- Instrumental ---
Started early in the mornin'
You hear that rain to fall
With thunderbolts and lightning
The wind begins to call
Your worry's superficial
'Cause you slept on through the night
But stormy weather keeps you wond'rin'
If ev'rything's all right
And it sure got cold after the rain fell
Not from the sky, but from my eye
Not from the sky, Lord from my eye
--- Instrumental ---
After the rain fell
And it sure got cold after the rain fell
And it sure got cold after the rain fell
After the rain fell
And it sure got cold...
song performed by by Alan Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Waiting By The School Gates
Look who's over
by the school gates
Reynard said
and you looked over
and there was Christina
with her school bag
over her shoulder
and her hands tucked
in the pockets
of her green coat
see you tomorrow
Reynard said
and walked on
giving Christina a stare
as he did most girls
finding them an enigma
yet to be solved
when you got
to where Christina was
she took her hands
out of her pockets
and put a hand
on your arm
I wish I was going
on the school bus
with you
then I could sit next to you
and I could tell you
about myself
and not have to cram
everything into a rush
of words as I do
at school
you looked over
to where the school bus
was waiting
you still had
five minutes
or so before
it took off
and you knew
Fred the driver
always did
a head count
before hand
don't you wish
I was there
on the bus too?
she asked
squeezing your arm
with her fingers
you turned
and looked at her
sure I do
you said
but you live here
and I live miles away
I know
she said
and I miss you
once your bus goes off
and I know
I won't see you
until the following day
and the weekend is worse
because then
I don't see you
for two whole days
other kids
passing through
the school gates
stared at you both
and Hill said
come on
or you'll miss
the bus
and he laughed
and moved on
and Christina stared
after him and said
what's his problem?
and you said
oh he hasn't been born yet
he gets this way
and she laughed
and said
maybe I'll come
on the country bus
to your village
and we can meet?
sure that'd be good
you said
and her eyes lit up
and she smiled
and leaned
towards you
and gave your cheek
a peck
and you said
look I got to go
and you took her hand
and gave it
a quick kiss
then turned
and walked quickly
towards the bus
knowing her eyes
were following
your every step
and that maybe
she dreamed
of you at night
and imagined you
beside her
and her dolls
and Teddy Bear
and you in turn
maybe imagined
at night
you too were there.
poem by Terry Collett
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But the fact that some geniuses were laughed at does not imply that all who are laughed at are geniuses. They laughed at Columbus, they laughed at Fulton, they laughed at the Wright brothers. But they also laughed at Bozo the Clown.
quote by Carl Sagan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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But the fact that some geniuses were laughed at does not imply that all who are laughed at are geniuses. They laughed at Columbus, they laughed at Fulton, they laughed at the Wright brothers. But they also laughed at Bozo the Clown.
quote by Carl Sagan
Submitted by Catalin Popescu
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But the fact that some geniuses were laughed at does not imply that all who are laughed at are geniuses. They laughed at Columbus, they laughed at Fulton, they laughed at the Wright Brothers. But they also laughed at Bozo the Clown.
quote by Carl Sagan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Must Have Been Sleeping
'Where are you going, ' I heard her say
As the dream took me straight to the core,
We parked at the side of a very long road
And I got out the driver's door;
'I've never known that, ' I replied, and she sat
On her hands, with the pain of surprise,
'So what you've been saying has never been true! '
The tears rose up in her eyes!
'The road has been long, the road has been wide,
I never knew where I could turn.'
'I thought you were happy with me, ' she said;
There was nothing to say in return.
'I must have been sleeping for seventeen years, '
My voice sounded foreign and coarse,
But I couldn't handle the sighs and the lies,
Or the terrible sound of - 'divorce! '
I walked to the wood at the side of the road,
And followed the pathway around,
I couldn't look back now I'd made up my mind
Though I walked unfamiliar ground,
The clearing was quiet, the birds didn't sing,
A mountain rose up in my view,
I suddenly saw there was no going back
To the comfortable life that I knew.
I cast off my shackles and took a deep breath,
To breathe in both freedom and pride,
My strength was returning, and clearer my eye,
I walked with a bounce in my stride,
The years fell away, I was thirty again,
I stopped then, and sat on a stone,
For darkness was gathering there in the gloom
With that terrible feeling - alone!
I thought of the woman I'd left on the road,
Who'd always been faithful to me,
The tears that she'd shed for a love that was dead
Made me sad, and ashamed to be free,
I thought of the comfort she'd given me when
All my world started going insane,
She'd cooked and she'd cared, and she'd loved and she'd shared
And I'd given her nothing but pain.
I turned on the track, and I made my way back
But I couldn't see where I had been,
I stumbled through thickets and walked into trees
And I fell on my knees on the green.
'I am lost, I am lost, ' I cried into the night
Then I heard her voice, dim, by a tree
And woke to her stroking my face and my brow
As I cried… She was waiting for me!
9 March 2008
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Green Man
The story I am about to tell
is about a man who fell down a well.
His real name was Costaswell
that was until he fell down the well
where the night before
in the shadows of the moon
someone tipped gallons
of green paint down the well.
Then poor Costaswell fell in
and when he popped his head out.
Everyone thought he was an Alien.
You all know the type,
a green man from Mars.
Someone called the army in,
they asked where his spaceship had landed.
He said he did not have one
and he did not come from Mars.
Now poor Costaswell is better know
as the green man
who did not come from mars,
but from Hampton Court.
Now when he walks down the street
dogs come and raise a leg up
as they think he is a tree.
Kids drag their mothers to come and see
the green Martian from Hampton Court.
Everyone is wondering now
in the winter what will he do,
will he turn a light green
or will he turn blue.
10 September 2009
poem by David Harris
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The Birds' Lullaby
I
Sing to us, cedars; the twilight is creeping
With shadowy garments, the wilderness through;
All day we have carolled, and now would be sleeping,
So echo the anthems we warbled to you;
While we swing, swing,
And your branches sing,
And we drowse to your dreamy whispering.
II
Sing to us, cedars; the night-wind is sighing,
Is wooing, is pleading, to hear you reply;
And here in your arms we are restfully lying,
And longing to dream to your soft lullaby;
While we swing, swing,
And your branches sing,
And we drowse to your dreamy whispering.
III
Sing to us, cedars; your voice is so lowly,
Your breathing so fragrant, your branches so strong;
Our little nest-cradles are swaying so slowly,
While zephyrs are breathing their slumberous song.
And we swing, swing,
While your branches sing,
And we drowse to your dreamy whispering.
poem by Emily Pauline Johnson
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