En.Citatepedia^®.ro

On Leaving Some Friends At An Early Hour

Give me a golden pen, and let me lean
On heaped-up flowers, in regions clear, and far;
Bring me a tablet whiter than a star,
Or hand of hymning angel, when 'tis seen
The silver strings of heavenly harp atween:
And let there glide by many a pearly car
Pink robes, and wavy hair, and diamond jar,
And half-discovered wings, and glances keen.
The while let music wander round my ears,
And as it reaches each delicious ending,
Let me write down a line of glorious tone,
And full of many wonders of the spheres:
For what a height my spirit is contending!
'Tis not content so soon to be alone.

poem by John Keats
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet XII. On Leaving Some Friends At An Early Hour

Give me a golden pen, and let me lean
On heaped-up flowers, in regions clear, and far;
Bring me a tablet whiter than a star,
Or hand of hymning angel, when 'tis seen
The silver strings of heavenly harp atween:
And let there glide by many a pearly car
Pink robes, and wavy hair, and diamond jar,
And half-discovered wings, and glances keen.
The while let music wander round my ears,
And as it reaches each delicious ending,
Let me write down a line of glorious tone,
And full of many wonders of the spheres:
For what a height my spirit is contending!
'Tis not content so soon to be alone.

poem by John Keats
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Song Of The Harp

Angel play upon your harp.
Play it soft and clear.
If I listen long enough
maybe I will hear

all the tones that vibrate,
reaching through the spheres.
Angel play upon your harp
sweet music for my ears.

All the sounds that reach our young
are not too heavenly.
Their music is just so much noise,
I know it cannot be

music that an angel plays,
music that is sweet.
All they seem to want is
a steady throbbing beat.

Angel play upon your harp.
Play it night and day.
Maybe they might listen
to the silken tones you play.

poem by Edwina Reizer
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Fly My Muse Fly

Strum your kisses
tickle my lips
fly my muse fly

upon diamond daydream wings
over earth strum your airy kiss
your evergreen harp's florid garden gifts
tickle my lips with daisy petaled fingertips
and light tapping feet of dancing tulips

featherlight trance, let me slowly fade away
whisked into flight atop the warm winds
of Melisa's zephyrean blue butterfly ballet
soothing summer syrup, sun steeping all day
cradled in the hammock's gentle sea-breeze sway

fly my muse fly
upon diamond day dream wings
tickle my lips with your harp's evergreen kiss
I'll arrive, reborn, with the magnolias of spring
pink apple blossoms and laughter's golden pollen
to your bedside I'll bring

fly my muse fly
strum the soothing syrupy strings of your harp
tickle the world with the marigold manna
sung from your heavenly heart

poem by Gregory Allen Uhan
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You're my Angel

You're an Angel that nobody can see,
Still an Angel is what you are to me
An angel from heaven is what you are
In my sky you're definitely a heavenly star

You're an angel with beauty & grace
You're so kind & sweet,
you have an angel’s face
You have a pair of angel’s wings
Happiness and joy are just some things
That an angel can give

In my heart & mind is where you're living
You have hair as soft as the white clouds
A guardian angel is what I have gotten.
Your eyes are like sapphires that shine bright.
When everything is dark, you give me light.

You're an angel that gives me a reason to live,
You're an angel that teaches me to give.
You're an angel that teaches me the right things to say.
You're my angel & Ill always care.
You're my angel & you know Ill always be there.

poem by Dr Nihar Ranjan Ray
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U R My Angle

You're an Angel that nobody can see,
Still an Angel is what you are to me
An angel from heaven is what you are
In my sky you're definably a heavenly star

You're an angel with beauty & grace
You're kind & sweet, you have an angel face
You have very graceful angel wings
Happiness and joy are just some things
that an angel can give

In my heart & mind is where you're living
You have hair as soft as the white clouds
A guardian angel is what Ive gotten.
Your eyes are like sapphires that shine bright.
When everything is dark, you give me light.

You're an angel that gives me a reason to live,
You're an angel that teaches me to give.
You're an angel that teaches me the right things to say.
You're my angel & Ill always care.
You're my angel & you know Ill always be there.

poem by Ankur Garg
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You're an Angel

You're an angel that nobody can see,
Still, an angel is what you are to me.
An angel from heaven is what you are,
In my sky you're definitely a heavenly star.

You're an angel with beauty and grace,
You're kind and sweet, you've an angel face.
You have very graceful angel wings.
Happiness, joy, and love are just some things,

That an angel can give, and to me you've given.
In my heart and on my mind, is where you're livin'.
You have hair that is as soft as cotton.
A guardian angel is what I've gotten.

Your eyes are like sapphires that shine bright,
When everything is dark, you give me light.
You're an angel that gives me a reason to live,
You're the angel that teaches me to give.

You're the angel that makes me live another day,
You're the angel that teaches me the right things to say.
You're my angel and you'll always care,
You're my angel and you know I'll always be there.

(April the 4th.)

poem by Symone Raven
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Cant Stop The Music

Hes the star of the stage, and he screams all night
cause he cant get to sleep at all
And his favorite book, by the t.v. light, cant stop the matinee,
Hes played it over and over
He cant stop the music, or remember the ending to his song
He played it much too long
All those hard-earned words, that hes fought from his pen
Have been forgotten in some empty hall
And the wide-eyed looks, on those wiped-out faces
Make some dreams in such places over and over
He cant stop the music, or remember the ending to his song
He played it much too long
Wouldnt believe your ears, if he told you what the papers use to say
But that was in his hey-day
Back in his prime he had the fans in line
You should have seen him then, now look at him
His hair is getting thin
Theres one last show before the glory ends
There in the wings, waits his only friend,
The record that he prayed to over and over
He cant stop the music, or remember the ending to his song
He played it much too long
Then we go like this, and we go like that (music)
Then we go like this, and we go like that,
Cant stop the music
Then we go like this, and we go like that (music)
Then we go like this and we go like that.

song performed by by Hall & Oates
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Can't Stop The Music (He Played It Much Too Long)

He's the star of the stage, and he screams all night
'Cause he can't get to sleep at all
And his favorite book, by the T.V. light, can't stop the matinee,
He's played it over and over
He Can't Stop The Music, or remember the ending to his song
He played it much too long
All those hard-earned words, that he's fought from his pen
Have been forgotten in some empty hall
And the wide-eyed looks, on those wiped-out faces
Make some dreams in such places over and over
He Can't Stop The Music, or remember the ending to his song
He played it much too long
Wouldn't believe your ears, if he told you what the papers use to say
But that was in his hey-day
Back in his prime he had the fans in line
You should have seen him then, now look at him
His hair is getting thin
There's one last show before the glory ends
There in the wings, waits his only friend,
The record that he prayed to over and over
He Can't Stop The Music, or remember the ending to his song
He played it much too long
Then we go like this, and we go like that (music)
Then we go like this, and we go like that,
Can't Stop The Music
Then we go like this, and we go like that (music)
Then we go like this and we go like that.

song performed by by Hall & Oates
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Angel

I woke up from my nightmare
To find I’m not alone.
The intruder in my bedroom
Is no one I’d have known.

The stranger seemed not to notice
That their presence was discovered.
I did nothing to alert him
half hidden by the covers.

In Stature, he stood eight feet tall,
the same height as the door.
Hus massive shoulders bore his wings
Which trailed down to the floor..

My mirrored wall intrigued him-
By his own visage he’s obsessed
Perhaps he was hermaphrodite,
in white robes loosely dressed.

His trunk and Manly Mien
put me in mind of Saul.
His hair and face more beautiful
than Eve’s daughters, one and all.

Could this have been an angel
sent here from the God of Love?
Sent here to accompany me
as I made my way above.

But, alas, the odor of Brimstone
Suggests it is not so.
That and the sight of his singed wings
Told me which way I’d go

poem by John F. McCullagh
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Give Me Heaven, I Wont Be Content.

Give me Heaven,

I wont be content

with her golden streets

and pearly gates

breath taking mansions

and all the joyful saints

Give me Heaven,

I wont be content

with the amazing wall

and her fitly-set stones

of jasper, sapphire, chrysolite and the rest

my eyes shall not more be pleased

than with the c'mon granite which acquit my flesh

on my pilgrim days on earth

Give me Heaven,

I wont be content

with all her celestial bliss

cherubims and seraphims in their glorious wings

and for always eternity the meal

and my crown, heaven's stars adorn.

If that's all there is,

if His throne be void,

or by another preside,

give me Heaven,

I wont be satisfied.

poem by Osemwegie George
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I Wish I Was A Heavenly Angel

I wish I was a heavenly angel
For I would watch and protect mankind
But I am no heavenly angel
Hence must play in my own kind

I wish I was a heavenly angel
For I would pray for those in sorrow
But I am no heavenly angel
Hence must suffer the torment of borrow

I wish I was a heavenly angel
For I would worship my god day and night
But I am no heavenly angel
Hence must fight for my own right

I wish I was a heavenly angel
For I would always cling to my sword
But I am no heavenly angel
Hence must fight the pain of my fault

I wish I was a heavenly angel
For I would never no tiredness
But I am no heavenly angel
Hence must till the land to grow in abundance

I wish I was a heavenly angel
For I would weep when man sin
But I am no heavenly angel
Hence must pray for my own sin so dire

I wish I was a heavenly angel
For I would shore endlessly in space
But I am no heavenly angel
Hence must check as I walk in pace

I wish I was a heavenly angel
For I would wonder around this world free
But I am no heavenly angel
Hence must stand still as a tree

I wish I was a heavenly angel
For my heart shall always be in joy
But I am no heavenly angel
Hence must behave just like a boy

poem by Samuel Donkor
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Angel Of Heavenly Love

ANGEL OF HEAVENLY LOVE

An angel one day came
Thought it was a golden frame
Eyes wonderfully bright
Hairs veil heavenly light

An angel one day came
Thought it was just a game
Heard a voice smooth and caring
Got captured when hearing

An angel one day came
Thought I was insane
Felt a warmness washing
And my senses dashing

An angel one day came
Thought am I to blame
Held out a silver dove
Said follow it to the cove

An Angel one day came
Thought it's not the same
Kissed me on my lips
Enwrapping my hips

An angel one day came
Thought it was a golden frame
It is my Angel of heavenly love
Holding my hands forever above

poem by Morhardt Carmen Mencita Monoi Angel
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Third Sunday After Epiphany

I marked a rainbow in the north,
What time the wild autumnal sun
From his dark veil at noon looked forth,
As glorying in his course half done,
Flinging soft radiance far and wide
Over the dusky heaven and bleak hill-side.

It was a gleam to Memory dear,
And as I walk and muse apart,
When all seems faithless round and drear,
I would revive it in my heart,
And watch how light can find its way
To regions farthest from the fount of day.

Light flashes in the gloomiest sky,
And Music in the dullest plain,
For there the lark is soaring high
Over her flat and leafless reign,
And chanting in so blithe a tone,
It shames the weary heart to feel itself alone.

Brighter than rainbow in the north,
More cheery than the matin lark,
Is the soft gleam of Christian worth,
Which on some holy house we mark;
Dear to the pastor's aching heart
To think, where'er he looks, such gleam may have a part;

May dwell, unseen by all but Heaven,
Like diamond blazing in the mine;
For ever, where such grace is given,
It fears in open day to shine,
Lest the deep stain it owns within
Break out, and Faith be shamed by the believer's sin.

In silence and afar they wait,
To find a prayer their Lord may hear:
Voice of the poor and desolate,
You best may bring it to His ear;
Your grateful intercessions rise
With more than royal pomp, and pierce the skies.

Happy the soul whose precious cause
You in the Sovereign Presence plead -
"This is the lover of Thy laws,
The friend of Thine in fear and need,"
For to the poor Thy mercy lends
That solemn style, "Thy nation and Thy friends."

He too is blest whose outward eye
The graceful lines of art may trace,
While his free spirit, soaring high,
Discerns the glorious from the base;
Till out of dust his magic raise
A home for prayer and love, and full harmonious praise,

Where far away and high above,
In maze on maze the tranced sight
Strays, mindful of that heavenly love
Which knows no end in depth or height,
While the strong breath of Music seems
To waft us ever on, soaring in blissful dreams.

What though in poor and humble guise
Thou here didst sojourn, cottage-born?
Yet from Thy glory in the skies
Our earthly gold Thou dost not scorn.
For Love delights to bring her best,
And where Love is, that offering evermore is blest.

Love on the Saviour's dying head
Her spikenard drops unblamed may pour,
May mount His cross, and wrap Him dead
In spices from the golden shore;
Risen, may embalm His sacred name
With all a Painter's art, and all a Minstrel's flame.

Worthless and lost our offerings seem,
Drops in the ocean of His praise;
But Mercy with her genial beam
Is ripening them to pearly blaze,
To sparkle in His crown above,
Who welcomes here a child's as there an angel's love.

poem by John Keble
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Unstrung

My skies were blue, and my sun was bright,
And, with fingers tender and strong and light,
He woke up the music that slept before—
Echoing, echoing evermore!

By-and-by, my skies grew grey;—
No master-touch on the harp-strings lay,—
Dead silence cradled the notes divine:
His soul had wander'd away from mine.

Idly, o'er strange harps swept his hand,
Seeking for music more wild and grand.
He wearied at last of his fruitless quest,
And he came again to my harp for rest.

But the dust lay thick on the golden wires,
And they would not thrill to the old desires.
The chords, so broken and jarred with pain,
Could never be tender and sweet again.

poem by Ada Cambridge
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Invisible Strings

(ian hunter)
One, two, three
Well I woke up this morning - theres a girl in my bed.
How did she get there? was it something I said?
I dont understand it but somehow it seems
She visits me in invisible dreams.
Over and over I try to explain
How did that girl get into my veins?
Did somebody send her - was it my velvet wings?
And how does she touch my invisible strings?
Invisible strings - invisible strings
These are a few of my favorite things
Now its all over when the fat lady sings
Ill still be playing my invisible strings
Well maybe she dont have a world of her own
Maybe shes using me just like a phone
And sometimes shes cool and sometimes she stings
And Im all tangled up in invisible strings
Invisible strings - invisible strings
These are a few of my favorite things
When youre wearing black and Im wearing wings,
Well still be playing those invisible strings
Well she never leaves - Im never alone
I aint in the book but shes still calling home
I tried to lose her - watch the tv
But that womans always picking on me
Well, theres strings round my body, strings round my heart
Id like to know where the string-pulling starts
Id give anything to meet the angel who sends
Invisible ink to my invisible pen
Invisible strings - invisible strings
These are a few of my favorite things
When youre wearing black and Im wearing wings,
Well still be playing our invisible strings
Invisible strings - invisible strings
These are a few of my favorite things
Now its all over when the fat lady sings
Well still be playing our invisible strings
Invisible strings - invisible strings
Oh yeah

song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Loves Glorious Creed

Glorious creed love eternal be upon
your saccharine spirit...

Nothing ever shadowed your memoirs-
consumed me whole,
No ballad sweetest fictions worthy capturing-
blink of diamond eyes.
Hallowed spirit profound frame,
views portraits-
heavenly prospects.
Stories my million aficionados haven't
rusted your sacred fountain.

Nev'r ever the love I sanctify be
stopped by their envious kisses.
No other soul may embrace
masterpiece and precise
shadow fortress of soft inner space.
Goddess like beauty is mightier than
wonder statue of majestic Psyche and Athena.

You're unique, creator had ever made.
Thanks for wonders,
infinite joys and caresses.
You've been my devotion and
eternal gift from above-
precious than any ever made.

Just one thing,
give me a sign for hazard seeing the
wonders of your heavenly eyes.

poem by Jett Franco
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The Only Child

Lest he miss other children, lo!
His angel is his playfellow.
A riotous angel two years old,
With wings of rose and curls of gold.

There on the nursery floor together
They play when it is rainy weather,
Building brick castles with much pain,
Only to knock them down again.

Two golden heads together look
An hour long o'er a picture-book,
Or, tired of being good and still,
They play at horses with good will.

And when the boy laughs you shall hear
Another laughter silver-clear,
Sweeter than music of the skies,
Or harps, or birds of Paradise.

Two golden heads one pillow press,
Two rosebuds shut for heaviness.
The wings of one are round the other
Lest chill befall his tender brother.

All day, with forethought mild and grave,
The little angel's quick to save.
And still outruns with tender haste
The adventurous feet that go too fast.

From draughts, from fire, from cold and stings
Wraps him within his gauzy wings;
And knows his father's pride, and shares
His happy mother's tears and prayers.

poem by Katharine Tynan
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He Touches Me

He don't bring me anything but love
He don't bring me anything but love
If you offered me the stars I would decline
I don't need 'em I got mine
1 don't know where to start
But I know what's in my heart
So keep your silver and your gold
Cos I got my man to have and hold
And even if you promise me
the wonders of the world
It's not enough
Not enough
No poetry, no diamond ring
No song to sing
He don't bring me flowers, oh no
But he touches me, he touches me
No crazy dreams, no limousines
He makes me feel I can do anything
And that's power, oh yeah
When he touches me, he touches me
I know they'll say I'm crazy letting go
Of a man like you
Who seems to have it all
But they don't see what I see
No, they don't feel like me
find even it you promise me
the wonders of the world
And all that stuff
It's not enough
No poetry, no diamond ring
No song to sing, no
He don't bring me flowers, oh no
But he touches me
He touches me
He don't bring me anything but love
He don't bring me anything but love
No poetry, no diamond ring
No song to sing
He don't bring me flowers, oh no
But he touches me
He touches me
No crazy dreams, no limousines
He makes me feel like a beauty queen
And that's power, oh yeah
And he touches me
He touches me
No poetry, no diamond ring
No song to sing
He don't bring me flowers. oh yeah
Cos he touches me, he touches me
No crazy dreams, no limousines, babe
And that's power, oh yeah
When he touches me
He touches me
He don't bring me anything but love
He don't bring me anything but love

song performed by by Lisa Stansfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet XVI. To Kosciusko

Good Kosciusko, thy great name alone
Is a full harvest whence to reap high feeling;
It comes upon us like the glorious pealing
Of the wide spheres -- an everlasting tone.
And now it tells me, that in worlds unknown,
The names of heroes, burst from clouds concealing,
And changed to harmonies, for ever stealing
Through cloudless blue, and round each silver throne.
It tells me too, that on a happy day,
When some good spirit walks upon the earth,
Thy name with Alfred's, and the great of yore
Gently commingling, gives tremendous birth
To a loud hymn, that sounds far, far away
To where the great God lives for evermore.

poem by John Keats
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Granny's Angel

In my grand baby world she
Dream of pink butterflies and
Angel with golden wings playing
And singing sweet lullabies

She dream of sweet sugar plums
And lollipops dancing around her
Head

She dream of fairies, white doves
And pink butterflies
With wings tips of gold

Gold and silver dust sprinkling
Down as they open their wings

She dream of little fairies tickling
Little feet

Her joy shows as her laughter cries
Out
Bouncing around with little fairies
Playing and singing sweet lullabies

Her eyes of blue, as deep as the sky
Looking up at the golden half moon
Hanging so high

Stars of silver and golden threads flickers
Durning the night

Unicorns and fairies playing in a
Field of clovers
With pink ribbons and bows

She dreams of pink butterflies as she lay
In her crib sleeping

Dreaming of sweet nothings
Fairies, butterflies and little
Angels with unicorns in her world

As she sleeps in her little world
Where fantasy is true

Her little sisters and brothers
All angels in heavens

Where her world is all but a beautiful
Dream
As she grow and flourish to be a wife
A mother

And tell her stories to her children in
The future

Dedicated To My Grand Baby Miya

poem by Carolyn Sears
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