En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Dawlish Fair

Over the hill and over the dale,
And over the bourn to Dawlish--
Where gingerbread wives have a scanty sale
And gingerbread nuts are smallish.
-------------
Rantipole Betty she ran down a hill
And kicked up her petticoats fairly;
Says I I'll be Jack if you will be Gill--
So she sat on the grass debonairly.

Here's somebody coming, here's somebody coming!
Says I 'tis the wind at a parley;
So without any fuss any hawing and humming
She lay on the grass debonairly.

Here's somebody here and here's somebody there!
Says I hold your tongue you young Gipsey;
So she held her tongue and lay plump and fair
And dead as a Venus tipsy.

O who wouldn't hie to Dawlish fair,
O who wouldn't stop in a Meadow,
O who would not rumple the daisies there
And make the wild fern for a bed do!

poem by John Keats
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If I Were You

If I were you
( verlon thompson / billy dean )
Duet with travis tritt
You've got it made, you've got real love
Something you don't find every day
Someone to trust, someone to lean on
Something I would hold on to, if I were you.
You've got it made, you've got no one
You don't have those strings to tie you down
You come and go free as the wind blows
I I wouldn't settle down too soon, if I were you
If I were you, i'd be satisfied
Oh, i'm sure the grass is greener on the other side
If I were you, i'd stay by her side ( i'd be running wild )
I would never leave her
That's what I would do
If I were you
If I were you, 'd be satisfied
Oh, i'm sure the grass is greener on the other side
If I were you, would I rather be ( would I rather be )
Someone just like me
I wouldn't change a single thing
If I were you.

song performed by by Kenny Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Daddy What If?

(Daddy what if the sun stop shinin' what would happen then?)
If the sun stopped shinin' you'd be so surprised
You'd stare at the heavens with wide open eyes
And the wind would carry your light to the skies
And the sun would start shinin' again
(Daddy what if the wind stopped blowin' what would happen then?)
If the wind stopped blowin' then the land would be dry
And your boat wouldn't sail son and your kite wouldn't fly
And the grass would see your troubles and she'd tell the wind
And the wind would start blowin' again
(But daddy what if the grass stopped growin' what would happen then?)
If the grass stopped growin' why you'd probably cry
And the ground would be watered by the tears from your eyes
And like your love for me the grass would grow so high
Yes the grass would start growin' again
(But daddy what if I stopped lovin' you what would happen then?)
If you stopped lovin' me then the grass would stop growin'
The sun would stop shinin' and the wind would stop blowin'
So you see if you wanna keep this old world a goin'
You better start lovin' me again again you better start lovin' me again
You hear me Bobby you better start lovin' me again
You love me Bobby you better start lovin' me again

poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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Fighting Man

Hearts of darkness
Falling down,
it's raining stones
Fate is driving
Now theres no meat
on the bone
There's a hurricane coming,
what a bitter pill
There's a distant drumming,
coming over the hill
She took everything,
got my jack in her hand
I was born so now
I'm just a fighting man,
A fighting man
Cold Wild Turkey
Drives a spike right through my brain
Bar room mothers
Waiting for the gravy train
It's a cold wind a blowing,
gone out of control
Time is a running,
touching my very soul
She took everything,
got my jack in her hand
I was born so now
I'm just a fighting man,
A fighting man
Solo
Ashes to ashes
trash is still trash
It's only a moment now
and we're gone in a flash
silver lining
Where's the man
with the master plan
Hearts of darkness
Spreading out
all across this land
There's a hurricane a'coming,
what a bitter pill
There's a distant drumming,
coming over the hill
She took everything,
got my jack in her hand
I was born so now
I'm just a fighting man,
A fighting man
She took everything,
got my jack in her hand
I was born so now
I'm just a fighting man,
A fighting man
Just a common man
Just a common man

song performed by by Ufo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Summer Song

THERE are white moon daisies in the mist of the meadow
Where the flowered grass scatters its seeds like spray,
There are purple orchis by the wood-ways' shadow,
There are pale dog-roses by the white highway;
And the grass, the grass is tall, the grass is up for hay,
With daisies white like silver and buttercups like gold,
And it's oh! for once to play thro' the long, the lovely day,
To laugh before the year grows old!

There is silver moonlight on the breast of the river
Where the willows tremble to the kiss of night,
Where the nine tall aspens in the meadow shiver,
Shiver in the night wind that turns them white.
And the lamps, the lamps are lit, the lamps are glow-worms light,
Between the silver aspens and the west's last gold.
And it's oh! to drink delight in the lovely lonely night,
To be young before the heart grows old!

poem by Edith Nesbit
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{A Wind of Change} (song lyrics)

A wind of change is coming.
This has been foreseen.
A wind of change is coming.
Soon it will be seen.
For if men are men,
and not mer mice.
Will stand our ground,
in this noble fight.
March around with flags held high.
Embrace the change
as it roles on by.

Won't stop it,
can't stop us.
You're eyes closed.
We see light.

A wind of change is coming.
As we steady on.
A wind of change is coming.
To this we will belong.
Can't kick us down,
can't pick a fight.
Will hold our own,
with all our might.
Where here where there
where every where.
Strengthened by the change,
nothing can compare.

Not alone,
change is life.
You lecture,
now we strike.

A wind of change is coming.
Clouds begin to clear.
A wind of change is coming.
Much like a snarling steer.
This noble fight,
now seems so right.
We've tested time,
and persevered.
Though hated, shunned,
and held in fear.
Carpe Diem is what will cheer.

It is time,
we won't die.
It's our right,
to live life.

poem by Seth Morrow
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Jack and Gill

Jack and Gill
Went up the hill,
To fetch a pail of water;
Jack fell down
And broke his crown,
And Gill came tumbling after.

poem by Anonymous English
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The Young Knight

Joseph Hathaway, Charles Kingsley
Down deary down
There was a knight and he was young a-riding along the way Sir
And there he met a lady fair among the stacks of hay Sir
Down deary down
Quote he shall you and I, Lady among the grass lay down oh
And I will take a special care of the rumpling of your gown oh
So she told him
If you will go along with me into my father's hall Sir
You shall enjoy my maiden's head and my estate and all Sir
Down deary down
So he mounted her on a milk white steed himself upon another
And then they rid upon the road like sister and like brother
Down deary down down deary down
And when they came to father's home all moulded all about Sir
She stepped straight within the gate and shut the young man out Sir
Down deary down
Here is a pursue of gold she said take it for your pain Sir
And I will send my father's men to go home with you again Sir
And if you meet a lady fair as you go by the town Sir
You must not fear the dewy grass or
The rumpling grass of her gown Sir
Down deary down down deary down
And if you meet a lady gay as you go by the hill Sir
Here is the moral of the story
If you will not when you may you shall not when you will Sir

song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Young Knight

Joseph hathaway, charles kingsley
Down deary down
There was a knight and he was young a-riding along the way sir
And there he met a lady fair among the stacks of hay sir
Down deary down
Quote he shall you and i, lady among the grass lay down oh
And i will take a special care of the rumpling of your gown oh
So she told him
If you will go along with me into my father's hall sir
You shall enjoy my maiden's head and my estate and all sir
Down deary down
So he mounted her on a milk white steed himself upon another
And then they rid upon the road like sister and like brother
Down deary down down deary down
And when they came to father's home all moulded all about sir
She stepped straight within the gate and shut the young man out sir
Down deary down
Here is a pursue of gold she said take it for your pain sir
And i will send my father's men to go home with you again sir
And if you meet a lady fair as you go by the town sir
You must not fear the dewy grass or
The rumpling grass of her gown sir
Down deary down down deary down
And if you meet a lady gay as you go by the hill sir
Here is the moral of the story
If you will not when you may you shall not when you will sir

song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Under The Sun

there is so much to do
to talk about
to learn and judge and
tell
to forget and forgive
to decide to move on

like the grass and the
grasshopper
the ants and the butterfly
the hill and the
river
like the clouds up the
tips of the hills
like the atom and
the molecule
like your lips and your
teeth
your eyes and
your heart

like the fish on the water
the mice on the trap
the cheese and the dough

an open mouth
a tongue
a word of thanks
of hands waving goodbye
the last honk of the car
the speeding jet plane in the air
the darkness in space
Venus and Mars
Jack and the beans

so much to talk about
under the sun

why lonely still?
why so empty still?

yes, you.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Saw You Coming

I saw you coming
With that poison in your hand
Now youre acting kind of funny
Like you dont seem to understand
Stop complaining
Youve been caught fair and square
I saw you coming
I was guarding you that day
I saw you coming
Golden rule, you disobeyed
You were too busy showing off
How you gave yourself away
Stop complaining
Youve been caught fair and square
I saw you coming
I was guarding you that day
I saw you coming

song performed by by Chris Rea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Snakes In The Grass

Snakes in the grass
sliding and slithering
furtively so slow,
can attack so quickly
but at least you know.
The real snakes in the grass
sidling and creeping
slowly so you won't see,
approach from out of nowhere
lest they be
noticed at all.
They watch the fall
then slither away
and take it all,
your peace, your harmony,
your way of existing
as they are co-existing
right in your sight.
These are the snakes
that speak with forked tongue
to our innocent ones, oh so young.
They coerce them like the
serpent in Eden.
So our youth
can't ever stop the bleedin'.
For snakes in the grass
are leading the way
with everything false
into moral decay.
How do we stop these
snakes in the grass?
They've been around
since time's begun.
We must turn a deaf ear
to every last one.

poem by Edwina Reizer
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Gingerbread Men

Four sons baking made
Gingerbread men…
The two youngest prayed
That when they woke-up
They wouldn't all be gone!
For what they'd made…
For what they'd made...
They'd had—none!
They were right to pray…
For all the chocolate coated
Ones had gone!
And just two remained out of'
The eagerly, awaited, twenty one!
The eagerly, awaited, twenty one!
And just two remained out of'
The eagerly, awaited, twenty one!
The two left where without
There chocolate coats
So they weren't eaten because their coats
Were none!
You lucky two… You lucky two…
You lucky two…
Gingerbread men…

poem by Mark Heathcote
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Autobiography Of A Snowflake

In a Nimbostratus cloud I formed.
a trooper of the coming storm.
From a droplet, cold, alone,
my Starry crystal flake was formed

Expelled from my Eden by the wind
Thus did my descent begin.
Swarovski can’t produce my equal.
I’m unique- they’ll be no sequel.

Perhaps I’ll help cover your grass
Or, with the others, clog your paths.
On roads I’ll make your rear wheels slide
And make you wish you’d stayed inside

I glide in, glittering, past street lights
The earth already wrapped in White
Surprised I am to melt so young
captured on your daughter’s tongue.

poem by John F. McCullagh
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Paradise

Paradise
Caught between the fire and the ice
No need to think twice
It's where I want to be
Like a weather vane
Following the wind the sun and rain
The ecstasy and pain
And all that comes between
Cause in the morning summer breezes will be coming my way
Then in the evening I'm believing I'll be ready to say
That I am living here in paradise
Balancing the darkness with the light
Silencing the fight
Ahead is all I see
Like a golden chain
Wrapped around the laughter and the pain
Silencing the blame
Let it all break free
Then in the morning summer breezes will be coming my way
And in the evening I'm believing I'll be ready to say
That we're all living here in paradise
And though the sun will fade away they say
There's so much more to fill a day
So be a weather vane
Following the wind the sun and rain
The ecstasy and pain
And all that comes between
Cause in the morning summer breezes will be coming your way
Then in the evening I'm believing you'll be ready to say
That we're all living here in paradise (we wouldn't)
In paradise (we wouldn't)
Paradise (we wouldn't want to be)
Paradise (we wouldn't)
Living here in paradise (we wouldn't)
Between the fire and the ice (we wouldn't want to be)
(repeat and fade)

song performed by by America
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Milkmaid's Song

Turn, turn, for my cheeks they burn,
Turn by the dale, my Harry!
Fill pail, fill pail,
He has turned by the dale,
And there by the stile waits Harry.
Fill, fill,
Fill, pail, fill,
For there by the stile waits Harry!
The world may go round, the world may stand still
But I can milk and marry,
Fill pail,
I can milk and marry.

Wheugh, wheugh!
O, if we two
Stood down there now by the water,
I know who'd carry me over the ford
As brave as a soldier, as proud as a lord,
Though I don't live over the water.
Wheugh, wheugh! he's whistling through,
He's whistling 'The Farmer's Daugher.'
Give down, give down,
My crumpled brown!
He shall not take the road to the town,
For I'll meet him beyond the water.
Give down, give down,
My crumpled brown!
And send me to my Harry.
The folk o' towns
May have silken gowns,
But I can milk and marry,
Fill pail,
I can milk and marry.

Wheugh, wheugh! he has whistled through
He has whistled through the water.
Fill, fill, with a will, a will,
For he's whistled through the water,
And he's whistling down
The way to the town,
And it's not 'The Farmer's Daughter!'
Churr, churr! goes the cockchafer,
The sun sets over the water,
Churr, churr! goes the cockchafer,
I'm too late for my Harry!
And, O, if he goes a-soldiering,
The cows they may low, the bells they may ring,
But I'll neither milk nor marry,
Fill pail,
Neither milk nor marry.

My brow beats on thy flank, Fill pail,
Give down, good wench, give down!
I know the primrose bank, Fill pail,
Between him and the town.
Give down, good wench, give down, Fill pail,
And he shall not reach the town!
Strain, strain! he's whistling again,
He's nearer by half a mile.
More, more! O, never before
Were you such a weary while!
Fill, fill! he's crossed the hill,
I can see him down by the stile,
He's passed the hay, he's coming this way,
He's coming to me, my Harry!
Give silken gowns to the folk o' towns,
He's coming to me, my Harry!
That she walks to-night with Harry!
Come late, come soon, come sun, come moon,
O, I can milk and marry,
Fill pail,
I can milk and marry.

Wheugh, wheugh! he has whistled through,
My Harry! my lad! my lover!
Set the sun and fall the dew,
Heigh-ho, merry world, what's to do
That you're smiling over and over?
Upon the hill and down in the dale,
And along the tree-tops over the vale
Shining over and over,
Low in the grass and high on the bough,
Shining over and over,
O world, have you ever a lover!
You were so dull and cold just now,
O world, have you ever a lover?
I could not see a leaf on the tree,
And now I could count them, one, two, three,
Count them over and over,
Leaf from leaf like lips apart,
Like lips apart for a lover.
And the hillside beats with my beating heart,
And the apple-tree blushes all over,
And the May bough touched me and made me start,
And the wind breathes warm like a lover.

Pull, pull! and the pail is full,
And milking's done and over,
Who would not sit here under the tree?
What a fair fair thing's a green field to see!
Brim, brim, to the rim, ah me!
I have set my pail on the daisies!
It seems so light, - can the sun be set?
The dews must be heavy, my cheeks are wet.
I could cry to have hurt the daisies!
Harry is near, Harry is near,
My heart's as sick as if he were here,
My lips are burning, my cheeks are wet,
He hasn't uttered a word as yet,
But the air's astir with his praises.
My Harry!
The air's astir with your praises.

He has scaled the rock by the pixy's stone,
He's among the kingcups, - he picks me one,
I love the grass that I tread upon
When I go to my Harry!
He has jumped the brook, he has climbed the knowe,
There's never a faster foot I know,
But still he seems to tarry.
O Harry! On Harry! my love, my pride,
My heart is leaping, my arms are wide!
Roll up, roll up, you dull hillside,
Roll up, and bring my Harry!
They may talk of glory over the sea,
But Harry's alive, and Harry's for me,
My love, my lad, my Harry!
Come spring, come winter, come sun, come snow,
What cares Dolly, whether or no,
While I can milk and marry?
Right or wrong, and wrong or right,
Quarrel who quarrel, and fight who fight,
But I'll bring my pail home every night
To love, and home, and Harry!
We'll drink our can, we'll eat our cake,
There's beer in the barrel, there's bread in the bake,
The world may sleep, the world may wake,
But I shall milk and marry,
And marry,
I shall milk and marry.

poem by Sydney Thompson Dobell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Adventurers

This morning I got up before the sun
Had seized the hill,
And scrambled heart-hot, noisy, past each one
In sleep laid still.
There they lay helpless under the gold stars,
Good folk and kind,
By sleep the robber spoiled of heavenly wares,
Made deaf and blind.
The leaves cracked, the grass rustled as I passed.
I might have been
Myself the thief. Each minute seemed the last
Of freedom's teen.
But lonely down the hill in Levite's guise
Or priest's, I ran.
I had not proved myself, true loverwise,
Samaritan.
The wind went by me, pulling at my hair.
I left the track.
My last night's purpose terrible and fair
Came sweeping back.
Among the bracken under a white tree
I sat me down,
And slipped my shoulders very stealthily
From out my gown.
One minute I lay naked on the grass,
Then sat upright.
The hot wind had its will with me, and kissed
My bosom white.
The stars gleamed in the grey before the rose.
Were they not eyes
That peered and leered, and seemed about to close
In shocked surprise?
With the whole sky at gaze, there had I lain.
Had dared thus much.
I ran on frightened down the hill again,
With gown to clutch.
Down by the creek the blackberries grew thick,
And as I passed
They stretched long arms to hinder me and prick,
Make me shamefast?
Nay, they laughed, pulling at my slipping gown,
Would have laid bare
To chance men on the hillside looking down
The whiteness there.
Close by the blackwoods is the bathing pool
The men have made.
I was no sport for stars, no bramble's fool
In the trees' shade.
But when I stood with limbs and body free
And gleaming fair,
The little kind ferns screened and covered me
Like Agnes' hair.
I slipped into the shallow water, felt
The fine brown sand
Of the creek bottom, shuddered, splashed and knelt
Too cold to stand.
Happy and shivering, with trees overhead,
Fern walls around,
I listened to the water talking, led
To praise by sound.
So I have felt the wind and water's kiss,
Though I'm a maid.
Better be man than be a girl, and miss
Feeling afraid.

poem by Lesbia Harford
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A Pastoral Of Phyllis And Corydon

On a hill there grows a flower,
Fair befall the dainty sweet!
By that flower there is a bower,
Where the heavenly Muses meet.

In that bower there is a chair,
Fringèd all about with gold,
Where doth sit the fairest fair
That did ever eye behold.

It is Phyllis, fair and bright,
She that is the shepherds' joy,
She that Venus did despite,
And did blind her little boy.

This is she, the wise, the rich,
That the world desires to see:
This is _ipsa quæ_, the which
There is none but only she.

Who would not this face admire?
Who would not this saint adore?
Who would not this sight desire,
Though he thought to see no more?

O, fair eyes, yet let me see,
One good look, and I am gone:
Look on me, for I am he,
Thy poor silly Corydon.

Thou that art the shepherds' queen,
Look upon thy silly swain;
By thy comfort have been seen
Dead men brought to life again.

poem by Nicholas Breton
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The Gossiper

(9/15/12)

She was well to do, and had more
Money than me and you.
She loved to gossip and put people down
it mattered not- who was around.

She talked about everyone that she knew
And wouldn't let you leave till she was through.
She talked about her neighbors and her friends
And put them down to the bitter end.

They said she was lonely and didn't have a life
But who in the world would make her " his wife"?
Now the years have taken its toll
And she's gotten very old.
But! There was someone " who had done just that"
And she became bitter and fat.

She had married at a very young age
To a man who was twice her age.
After a few years he passed away
And she became even more bitter and enraged.

That is when she started to talk
About all who was around
And enjoyed the fact of putting people down.

Soon no one came to visit any more
For she had closed all the doors
They had gotten tired of trying
To be her friend, when she talked
About them - to no end.

There was nothing that could stop
Her wagging tongue, even as she
Was in her dying bed.
She talked about the living and the dead.
When the time came and she was laid to rest.
They said there was two coffins laid in the ground.

One for her body and one for her tongue
So she could not talk to anyone.

(the comical moral of this story)

: Don't talk without knowing- cause
Your tongue don't know where it's going.

© L. RAMS

poem by Louis Rams
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The Exposed Nest

You were forever finding some new play.
So when I saw you down on hands and knees
I the meadow, busy with the new-cut hay,
Trying, I thought, to set it up on end,
I went to show you how to make it stay,
If that was your idea, against the breeze,
And, if you asked me, even help pretend
To make it root again and grow afresh.
But 'twas no make-believe with you today,
Nor was the grass itself your real concern,
Though I found your hand full of wilted fern,
Steel-bright June-grass, and blackening heads of clovers.
'Twas a nest full of young birds on the ground
The cutter-bar had just gone champing over
(Miraculously without tasking flesh)
And left defenseless to the heat and light.
You wanted to restore them to their right
Of something interposed between their sight
And too much world at once--could means be found.
The way the nest-full every time we stirred
Stood up to us as to a mother-bird
Whose coming home has been too long deferred,
Made me ask would the mother-bird return
And care for them in such a change of scene
And might out meddling make her more afraid.
That was a thing we could not wait to learn.
We saw the risk we took in doing good,
But dared not spare to do the best we could
Though harm should come of it; so built the screen
You had begun, and gave them back their shade.
All this to prove we cared. Why is there then
No more to tell? We turned to other things.
I haven't any memory--have you?--
Of ever coming to the place again
To see if the birds lived the first night through,
And so at last to learn to use their wings.

poem by Robert Frost
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Do Not Read This!

Notice is clear in bold and block
You can't miss and continue
Your eyes always expectant and quick
Swift like a released arrow from a bow
Yes
Its all
But
Garbage, still you crave its reading
You are still reading?
Hmnnn.
Why did you read it?
No,
These lines will confuse you.
Your brains would crack, do not read,
Still you wouldn't stop, on you read
Your eyes so sharp like a hawking Eagle
That makes a hen out of grass so tall
Steady like a preying Tiger
This
Is a warning sign
But you wouldn't care
You just read laugh or sigh
Hmnn, you have won me over,
You wouldn't STOP!

poem by Charles Jagongo Ogola
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