En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Dreams Unshared

Twenty years have passed, she still remains
Wed to the same employer, home and bed.
One lover only found the path that led
Down to her heart but brought unhappy chains.
Each year was watered with fresh pillow stains,
Care etched its acid lines as youth's hopes fled
Away and one by one her blossoms bled.
Declining health scope limited as strains
Expressed themselves in sundry aches and pains.
Solitude, silent, grieved. In children's stead,
Projects and dreams unshared, palm's hopes unread
Alas dust piled upon Time's counterpanes.
So two decades spun by, and what's to show?
Some fears, some tears, some years ‘tis time to go.

(24 February 1992)

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Waiting For Tomorrow

Today is gone with my hopes
Tomorrow I wait for what comes.
If yesterday is history
And tomorrow mystery
I have today only as mine.
But I still wait for tomorrow,
For yesterday is gone with my hopes.
O' home, sweet home of mine!
I have missed for twenty years
If they can feel my tears;
My pains and my bleeding heart.
Time has failed me
Time won't leave me.
And every day I grow older;
Everyday I grow weaker;
America, are you there?
Africa, can you hear me?
My country has failed me
And I am growing old, old away from home
My Africa, my sweet home of mine
I come with a new hope.
Where is my hope Nigeria?
You have killed my dreams.
But I wait for tomorrow;
I still wait for tomorrow.

poem by Efe Benjamin
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The Future Is The Children's

The future is the children's and I am of the past
And I too had my young years but nothing ever last
On looking back the Seasons how quickly the years have gone
Old age is fast approaching and the clock ticks on and on.

The future is the children's the children of today
They have the gift of youth with them though youth with them won't stay
On looking back decades from now when time has left them slow
They will wonder as I do where did the years to go.

The years are catching up one me and time has left me gray
And the future is the children's that would be true to say
The people in their sixties are running out of time
And few of them will be living when today's children are in their prime.

The future is the children's and to them alone belong
And those who will tell you differently have somehow got it wrong
But the hands of time keep turning and time on none does wait
And all of us are branded with an invisible use by date.

poem by Francis Duggan
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The Day Old Shep Died

it's been thirty years,
that he's been gone,
the day he died, brought tears,
all day, i played his song.

for nine long years,
i loved him and he loved me,
the day he died, broght tears,
toward the end, he could barely see.

when he died, i was seventeen years,
my child hood died that day,
the day he died, brought tears,
during his youth, we were always at play.

him and i was, so close in years,
when i got shep he was five and i eight,
the day he died brought tears,
he always ate his meals, off our plate.

he died at eighty-four in human years,
he lived to a ripe old age,
the day he died brought tears,
for this poem, he set the stage.

i can't believe, its been so many years,
i think about him, all the time,
the day he died, brought tears,
but old shep, was all mind.

of all these many years,
no dog has taken the place of old shep,
the day he died, brought tears,
i'll always remember, that dog with pep

in memory of old shep 1946-1960 written june 21,1990

poem by Jim Foulk
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Separate Long Decades Have Passed

long decades have passed
polar ice caps keep melting
ghost years between all passed away

time lost in sightless mists years
but there was not one no rainbows
time left us alone poles polar apart

yet through all those lost mist years
filled with work time spectral dreaming
your name haunted mind each day

memories came ever unbidden
in thoughts intrusive odd timed
such thoughts were never far away

I hoped lost years to you were gentle kind
lost out of sight never out of memory mind
eternal youth memories face to ages blind

I see you ever in heart’s mind memory
memories that echo through eternity
in this love which endures in perpetuity

long decades have passed
polar ice caps are still melting
ghost years between all passed away

poem by Terence George Craddock
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I hear and Reflect

A bell tolls sonorously
one single chime. Then silence reigns
It wakes me from my reverie.
Conscious again of aches and pains.

I had lost temporarily
in contemplation of the past
That single knell reminding me
Of the long years which quickly passed.

Before the years caught up with me
For old age does not come alone
It brings along infirmity.
Which hitherto you have not known.

When you are young you do not know
What future lies ahead of you
but as you live and learn and grow
You will become as others do.

Much more aware than what you were
of how your body will re- act.
To the stress and strain you bear.
That you must think before you act.

Gone is the energy of youth
You used to waste without a thought
You slowly come to learn the truth
That rude health can’t be sold or bought.

As long as I can hear that chime
which has disturbed my reverie
I can be certain that this time
The death knell does not ring for me.

Each day an opportunity
To do things I can still do
although slow and steadily.
My body still allows me to.

Although I pay in aches and pains
I do not think the price too high.
My interest in life remains.
I am too busy far, to die.

I know I will eventually
but do not let it worry me
It is the only certainty
the bell will toll one day for me.

23-Nov-08

http: //
blog.mypace.com/poeticpiers

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Lines Addressed To A.C.

I.
DEAR Babe, soft object of my care,
Unseen, for whom I pour my pray'r;
Unknown, yet priz'd all else above,
The heir of my maternal love;
Ah, let me hail, in simplest lay,
Thy earliest New-Year's Day!

II.

Nor past, nor future cloud thy brow,
Thy range of thought confin'd to now;
Calm on a mother's breast you lie,
And heed not if, with tearful eye,
For thee her wishes fondly stray
O'er many a New-Year's Day.

III.

Yet soon the years in rapid flight
Shall wake thy heart to new delight;
Soon shall exulting youth draw near,
With charms so fresh, and hopes so dear;
And lovely as the bloom of May
Shall seem each New-Year's Day.

IV.

But ah, since Time at length will bring
No rapture on his weary wing,
Then, o'er thy path, no longer bright,
May Virtue shed a line of light,
That cheers the pilgrim, when his way
Leads to no New-Year's Day!

poem by Helen Maria Williams
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Engraved Feelings**************1979

sitting in my mothers chair
pain is etched everywhere
feeling the aches and pains
that she must go through
living in her solitude.

a house is not a home
if no one picks up the phone.
a telephone call is all she asks
it's not much of a task.

staring at the pictures of her
grand childrens faces.
recalling when she was younger
with no lines or traces.
that old age would soon appear.
it was something that she did not fear.

now her medical problems have gotten worse
she is more or less an invalid, and needs a nurse.
this is something that she always feared
the burden upon her children, far and near.

yet there is something that she does not realize.
that all her children love her
and will always be close by.

poem by Louis Rams
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When I Was A Boy

When I was a baby I hadnt a care in the world,
When I was a baby I hadnt a care in the world,
But now Im a man, my troubles fill my head,
But now Im a man, my troubles fill my head,
When I was five it was good to be alive,
When I was five it was good to be alive,
But now Im a man, I wish that I were dead.
But now Im a man, I wish that I were dead.
My how time rushes by,
My how time rushes by,
The moment youre born you start to die,
The moment youre born you start to die,
Time waits for no man,
Time waits for no man,
And your lifes spent, its over before you begin.
And your lifes spent, its over before you begin.
As I sit here at my window,
As I sit here at my window,
My life comes back to me,
My life comes back to me,
Its been so long since the good days,
Its been so long since the good days,
Its been so long.
Its been so long.
And I count up all the wasted years,
And I count up all the wasted years,
The hopes and the fears,
The hopes and the fears,
The laughs and the tears,
The laughs and the tears,
And I wonder, I wonder, I wonder what went wrong.
And I wonder, I wonder, I wonder what went wrong.
When I was a boy I had the mind of a boy,
When I was a boy I had the mind of a boy,
But now Im a man, aint got no mind at all,
But now Im a man, aint got no mind at all,
When I was in my teens I had my share of dreams,
When I was in my teens I had my share of dreams,
But now Im a man, aint got no dreams at all.
But now Im a man, aint got no dreams at all.
My how time rushes by,
My how time rushes by,
The moment youre born you start to die,
The moment youre born you start to die,
Time waits for no man,
Time waits for no man,
And your lifes spent, its over before you begin.
And your lifes spent, its over before you begin.
As I sit here at my window,
As I sit here at my window,
My life comes back to me,
My life comes back to me,
Its been so long since the good days,
Its been so long since the good days,
Its been so long.
Its been so long.
And I count up all the wasted years,
And I count up all the wasted years,
The hopes and the fears,
The hopes and the fears,
The laughs and the tears,
The laughs and the tears,
And I wonder, I wonder, I wonder what went wrong.
And I wonder, I wonder, I wonder what went wrong.

song performed by by Who
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Triumph of Hope over Experience

Winds wane. Once blown, no crop's pain sown, no curse
remains to filter through [st]rained watershed.
Today earth's quake, tomorrow wake, ahead
stars wait, - joy's gate - scars heal, love's peal rehearse.

Year's tears soon pass, hours' looking glass reverse
old seasons' reasons cold, aghast, time sped
tick tocks to tocsin block, fast bliss will thread
Love's blessing, - shade, dismayed, is soon dispersed.

With hands unbound, true path found, reimbursed,
scope may be fed, greet fleet mind, unthreads hopes fled.
No ash must stir, no dust rash spur, - instead,
morn blooms again, dawn dooms doom's pen enhearsed.

The seasons flow, tides come and go, and yet
The Ghost of Christmas Past inters regret...

poem by Jonathan Robin
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The Old Year

IT PASSED like the breath of the night-wind away,
It fled like a mist at the dawn of the day;
It lasted its moment, then backward was hurled,
Another increase to the age of the world.

It passed with its shadows, its smiles and its tears,
It passed as a stream to the ocean of years;
Years that were coming—were here—and are o’er,
The ages departed to visit no more.

It passed, but the bark on its billowy track
Leaves an impression on waters aback:
The glow of the gloaming remains on the sky,
Unwilling to leave us—unwilling to die.

It fled; but away and away in its wake
There lingers a something that time cannot break.
The past and the future are joined by a chain,
And memories live that must ever remain.

poem by Henry Kendall
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To Cowper

Sweet are thy strains, celestial Bard;
And oft, in childhood's years,
I've read them o'er and o'er again,
With floods of silent tears.
The language of my inmost heart,
I traced in every line;
My sins, my sorrows, hopes, and fears,
Were there -- and only mine.

All for myself the sigh would swell,
The tear of anguish start;
I little knew what wilder woe
Had filled the Poet's heart.

I did not know the nights of gloom,
The days of misery;
The long, long years of dark despair,
That crushed and tortured thee.

But, they are gone; from earth at length
Thy gentle soul is pass'd,
And in the bosom of its God
Has found its home at last.

It must be so, if God is love,
And answers fervent prayer;
Then surely thou shalt dwell on high,
And I may meet thee there.

Is he the source of every good,
The spring of purity?
Then in thine hours of deepest woe,
Thy God was still with thee.

How else, when every hope was fled,
Couldst thou so fondly cling
To holy things and holy men?
And how so sweetly sing,

Of things that God alone could teach?
And whence that purity,
That hatred of all sinful ways
That gentle charity?

Are these the symptoms of a heart
Of heavenly grace bereft:
For ever banished from its God,
To Satan's fury left?

Yet, should thy darkest fears be true,
If Heaven be so severe,
That such a soul as thine is lost,
Oh! how shall I appear?

poem by Anne Brontë from Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell (1846)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Years of Tears

Years of tears for no ears to hear, lonely for years am I
Years of tears for no ears to hear in silence they dropp and die
Years of tears, hidden deep, I cannot weep, nor cry.
Years of tears, for many fears of dying alone, I sigh.
Years of tears which no one hears as many years go by.
Years of tears in the lonely sky, my tears grow wings and fly.
Years of tears, my smile shines, through its little lines, I lie.
Years of tears, my somber peers through my melancholy eye
Tears of tears, Years of Years, in my soul, I tie.
Years of tears for no ears to hear my tears weep goodbye….

poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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O Little Town Of Bethlehem

(Reverend Philip Brooks, Lewis H. Redner
O little town of Bethlehem,
How still we see thee lie
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep
The silent stars go by.
Yet in they dark streets shineth,
The everlasting light
The hopes and fears of all the years
Are met in thee tonight.
For Christ is born of Mary,
And gathered all above
While mortals sleep the angels keep
Their watch of wondering love.
O morning stars together,
Proclaim Thy holy birth.
And praises sing to God the king,
And peace to men on earth.
O little town of Bethlehem,
How still we see thee lie
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep
The silent stars go by.
Yet in they dark streets shineth,
The everlasting light
The hopes and fears of all the years
Are met in thee tonight.
The hopes and fears of all the years
Are met in thee tonight...

song performed by by Travis Tritt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Memory of You

I was empty an hollow inside
My dreams crushed my hopes apart
Then you came into my life
Like a candle in the darkness
I learned all i know from you
I found the path of like
Now a years end has come
And just that quick you walked back out
I try to hold my emotions inside
As you hold me in your arms
For the last time
The tears just flood the ground below
I know i may never see you again
I leave today in tears and with the memory of you
The memory of you well in my soul
Locked forever inside my heart
Time so fast life changes every hour
Just know ill always carry that memory
Of you inside me
And forever it will live

poem by Kerrie Maurer
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I Cry For Children Caught In War

I cry for children caught in war
In my heart their death's a scar
That hurts and pains me through the years
I try to weep these silent tears.
Regrets that they can't run away
To safer places, there to play
Lost legs, lost hopes, their lives aborted
War is the sickle that has harvested
Innocent victims with no defense
Giving reasons that make no sense.

poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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I hope the next one won't be 'it

Some people say when you are in love
You feel butterflies in your stomach
Although I am in love
My stomach aches
Every day
Every night
Each day of the week
Each day of the month
Each day of the year
It aches

7 years has passed
In the end of year 7
I found out
‘it' fell in love with another
Dreamt of ‘it' for 7 years
‘it' is so far away
Even in my dreams
‘it' isn't even a person
That's how I have felt
So far away
‘It' doesn't even resembles a person

Ah, so foolish
One sided love
‘it', I have touched
But I haven't felt
Pain is what I have felt
For 7 years
Every day
Every night
Each day of the week
Each day of the month
Each day of the year

‘it' is pain for me
Pain doesn't love me
Pain hates me
Pain hurts me
But I will cherish pain
I will support pain
I won't tell ‘it' whom ‘it' mustn't love
Because I want ‘it' to be happy
Eventually my pain will be over

But eventually
I will come across another
I hope she won't become ‘it'
I hope when I see her
When I touch her
I won't feel pain
But her

poem by No Lover Of 'it'
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Howling

Before I leave
I will give you my gift
to perceive the human anguish.

Time had passed like a snake
noiselessly, skipping the years
I grieved.

The solace of harvesting the dreams
was thin.
A terrible shadow of a futile
creation.

Hopes always lied
hollowed by anesthesia of truth.
A surrogate womb trims
the love.

My garden was always green.
Howling was generating the heat.

poem by Satish Verma
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Home

Written by: tim james, steven mcclintock and marc mancina
Home
The child in my eyes
Stares sometimes
When I was so much younger
Home
A place in the sun
Where memories run
I close my eyes and there I am
Home
The love remains
Through all the years
Through all the change
The sweetest dreams
Ive ever known
Are those of you
And those of home
Time
The turn on a page
The love someone needs
When we were there together
Steal where ever I go
Deep in my soul
A part of me is always there
Home
The love remains
Through all the years
Through all the change
The sweetest dreams
Ive ever known
Are those of you
And those of home
When you smile
And hold me in your arms
Sometimes for the moment
Im that child again
Home
The love remains
Through all the years
Through all the change
The sweetest dreams
Ive ever known
Are those of you
And those of home
Are those of you
And those of home

song performed by by Tiffany
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Recollections

I.

Years upon years, as a course of clouds that thicken
Thronging the ways of the wind that shifts and veers,
Pass, and the flames of remembered fires requicken
Years upon years.

Surely the thought in a man's heart hopes or fears
Now that forgetfulness needs must here have stricken
Anguish, and sweetened the sealed-up springs of tears.

Ah, but the strength of regrets that strain and sicken,
Yearning for love that the veil of death endears,
Slackens not wing for the wings of years that quicken -
Years upon years.

II.

Years upon years, and the flame of love's high altar
Trembles and sinks, and the sense of listening ears
Heeds not the sound that it heard of love's blithe psalter
Years upon years.

Only the sense of a heart that hearkens hears,
Louder than dreams that assail and doubts that palter,
Sorrow that slept and that wakes ere sundawn peers.

Wakes, that the heart may behold, and yet not falter,
Faces of children as stars unknown of, spheres
Seen but of love, that endures though all things alter,
Years upon years.

III.

Years upon years, as a watch by night that passes,
Pass, and the light of their eyes is fire that sears
Slowly the hopes of the fruit that life amasses
Years upon years.

Pale as the glimmer of stars on moorland meres
Lighten the shadows reverberate from the glasses
Held in their hands as they pass among their peers.

Lights that are shadows, as ghosts on graveyard grasses,
Moving on paths that the moon of memory cheers,
Shew but as mists over cloudy mountain passes
Years upon years.

poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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Airs for the Lute

I
When the sobbing lute complains,
Grieving for an ancient sorrow,
This poor sorrow that remains
Fain would borrow,
To give pleading unto sorrow,
Those uncapturable strains.

All, that hands upon the lute
Helped the voices to declare,
Voices mute
But for this, might I not share,
If, alas, I could but suit
Hand and voice unto the lute?
II
If time so sweetly
On true according viols make
Her own completely
The lawless laws of turn and shake;

How should I doubt then
Love, being tuned unto your mood,
Should bring about then
True time and measure of your blood?
III
Why are you sorrowful in dreams?
I am sad in the night;
The hours till morning are white,
I hear the hours' flight
All night in dreams.

Why do you send me your dreams?
For an old love's sake;
I dream if I sleep or wake,
And shall but one heart ache,
For the sake of dreams?

Pray that we sleep without dreams!
Ah, love, the only way
To put sorrow away,
Night or day, night or day,
From the way of dreams!
IV
Strange, to remember tears!
Yet I know that I wept;
And those hopes and those fears,
Strange, were as real as tears!

What's this delicate pain,
Twilight-coloured and grey?
Odour-like through my brain
Steals a shadowy pain.

What's this joy in the air?
Musical as the leaves,
When the white winds are there,
Faint joy breathes in the air.

poem by Arthur Symons
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