To Tint Mad March with Tenderness of June
Another tide flows in, another moon
spins silver gossamer upon soft ground,
another droplet of spaced-time too soon
its home within eternity has found.
Soul's song has lost strong s[pr]ing. None shall resound
as midnight breasts twelve steps that lead to noon,
can chart the sentiments still heart astound,
to tint mad March with tenderness of June.
Yet still this spirit restlessly repines,
though fane would flower from its pain cocoon,
to span star-spangled sky, scan far for signs
which one day rich say she may grant my boon.
If Truth be Beauty, of a truth these lines
shall sparkle where Life’s fair reflection shines...
Dream's haze obeys the tidal ebb and flow
that Luna excercises as its pull
draws, opens, curtains here, there seeds may sow
to catalyze reflections to the full.
Filters fail to stem prismatic streams
whose waves save inklings hiding from dawn's light,
strange how both fragile and eternal themes
link this world to its parellels, unite
base terran trace to hidden face whose spells
spin cause into effect, direct our play,
whose influence spans last gasp, first farewells,
chance dance, phrase phases, catchwor[l|d roundelay.
Alarm bells ring to spring this song from sleep
as sun peeps past horizon, robins cheep...
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Related quotes
April May June Duly Appear August
Another day spins round, another moon
Plies silver gossamer surprise profound.
Rebounding droplets of spaced spring too soon
In Lethe's stream eternity resound.
Life drips despondently, some say, tear drowned.
As April breasts Spring's crest, as lovers spoon,
Perceive leaf, bud and bowls' rich garb fresh found,
Rainbow bridge 'twixt mad March, warm May, June.
Imagination's tendrils intertwine,
Leap out from Winter's protective cocoon,
And span star-spangled sky, lands fertilize,
PRepare the ground for future harvest wine.
..If Truth be Beauty, April offers boon,
..Links seasons' sparkle, Life reflects, replies.
(c) Jonathan Robin acrostic sonnet APRIL written 13 April 2008 - see To Tint Mad March with Tenderness of June
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Beauty is Truth, Truth Beauty - 1677 - Current Version
The poet's lyre afire responds to braid
heart's comfort to art's artistry at play
Truth Beauty, Beauty Truth John Keats would say -
Endymion - reflection which won't fade.
Beauty through the eye's beholder made
an echo of eternity which may
shine well beyond the veil where night and day
frame shadow-shapes that slip away, afraid.
Beyond time's rhyme shines Beauty as obeyed
are pattern codes diverse as snowflakes fey,
each unique however short their stay,
yet each to each conjoined as love, light weighed
Between life's lines as silk skein all adore,
Beauty's theme whose waves wash timeless shore.
Modest maiden bashful blinks,
blushing beauty cream the rose
regrets for envy's icy snows
cannot compete with light that links
across time lines as life-force flows
to ransom Time while Brahma winks.
Beauty spans life's cycle spinning through
word, deed, and act, both outer, inner, form,
may, drawn though space, enchant, and thus inform
the common mortal magic must ring true.
Beauty spirals through straight lines to cue
into life's circus circle, shine and storm,
night, day, rest play, surpass codes cuniform.
All may show glow's flow, flow's glow, renew
kaleidscope eternal which we knew
we knew before, will after know, as norm
is superceded by sensations warm
that swarm within, outside sin, rise, fall, coup
de grâce as grace folds mantle over all
reflection, echoes soul's perfection call.
(15 November 2008)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Ars Poetica
Some from within, some from without,
without a doubt set to,
as soul-song spins tale which begins
to flow, grow, glow. Thereto
through weaving in and weeding out
touch base with Nature, cue
time, place, as twins defeat and wins
ignored are through and through.
No need to shout, run roundabout,
use artificial glue,
scribe’s violin tunes, underpins,
technique as heart rings true.
Sensations scout, don’t beat about
the bush, tout false virtue,
The poet’s string must second skin
become, ne’er dumb, askew.
Words work their way by night and day
from phases past, to light
through threads at play that more threads lay,
reeled phrases feed fresh flight.
(30 March 2005 revised 9 June 2007 and 1 February 2012)
robi03_1128_robi03_0000 XXX_IXX
see below for previous version entitled Poetics
Poetics
Some from within some from without
without a doubt flow true
as soul-song spins tale which begins
to grow, and then glows too
through weaving in and weeding out -
touch intuitions know
from phases past so phrases last
through threads which more threads sow...
(30 March 2005)
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Sanctity...? ...
T he dawn is part of pattern webs which spin
O ut from the past and not from future fate,
A nd may Time mime, itself anticipate?
C an far horizons scan the span within?
T he wind won’t carry inkling whispers in
O pen echo unfurled in single trait.
R esponse to whom? to what? When? Early? Late?
N ew strength unveiled, by star signs sent to bait
O ne Cause or one Effect, - to end? begin?
T he story feeds from song or need to sing?
O ne’s need to heed the lied, lead on, create
U rgent vistas which can compensate
DRE aded hole inside inside’s dammed spring,
AMA zing grace to help face everything?
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Unlimited Reflections - 0848 - Current Version
Here follows an anthology to bring
enjoyment true, one world view versed in rhyme,
unlimited reflections over time
matured by mind whose searching soul would sing,
nursing ambitions empathy should string,
except most care not, - neither nickle, dime.
Listen to intuition's bells' strong chime
imprinting echo etched on soul, whose ring
may never fail, to nothing fade. Time's sting
outcast as shared experiences climb
up past extrapolations vague, masqued mime.
Just twenty six swift soldiers' ink link lines
recast lead die, redrawing causal signs.
(4 March 2009)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Living Joy
Past the broken dreams
Far past fountains of sorrow
No foul bird flies free
Hope is an endless tomorrow
Lay your fears by the way side
Diamond shores in the regal sun
Golden smiles from eternal sky
Today my journey has just begun
Soft voices from the tall pines
Summer roses in the heart of faith
Everything is growing deep inside
I know I shall be shown the way
Fountains flow in secret praise
The land of gardens opens wide
My soul transcends a world of pain
I see blossoms of yellow and white
Have you heard the stars singing
Song birds nest in every tree
In the valley the bells are ringing
My spirit has been set free
The moon shines like a mystic friend
Dawn is a sanctuary of eternal life
Over the mountains hope rises again
The darkness flees before the light
Living joy comes to the broken night
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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Meet Me In The Horizon (ft Vipins Puthooran)
Lift me up above this endless line
Separated away in different dimensions
Our fated life refracted in slightly illusions
That lead us to be lost in hopeless mazes
So we're living through different phases
You're in a wide and opened sky,
A canopy of stars, sun and moon
While I lay in deep waters of the sea
Hiding mysteries without a real boon
But destiny did write us a script for glory
The moment in right time for a new life story
For now nothing will cease our chance to unite
In this horizon where we'll meet, days and nights
Waiting rising sun, the lamp of life for a new dawn
And No, no one can tread us to mourn
As we touch the skyline to greet,
An infinite hope for fixing our feet
Like the moon-glades that kissing
On the waves of sea and caressing
Those incessant waves in harmony
In the horizon meet me as a crony
Rise up from sleep as you live in the dark
Open your throat to sing like a skylark
Devotion in a song tears us like a rain from heavens
For blessings come pour our love from His heavens
So here, In this Infinite line we shared the pain
Endless touch, togetherness each other, and stay remain
: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :
I am greatly happy to collaborate with my pal Vipins for my very
first new poem for 'Life, Love, Nature' theme..
Such a good time to spent and learn how great to see
Vipins arrange my whole idea into this one..
He has very good visionary in poetry, really! !
I am looking forward for anyone to co write with me in the future
...Thanks for reading and dont forget to visit my friend page
Vipins Poothoran for more poems_UNWRITTEN SOUL
: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :
poem by Unwritten Soul
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Poetics
Some from within some from without
without a doubt flow true
as soul-song spins tale which begins
to glow, then grows anew.
Through weaving in and weeding out -
touch intuitions cue -
from phases past fair phrases spin
through threads which more threads brew.
Thus in and out and round about
rhyme climbs as curlicue
expands ideas, wins interest in
both content, form, will woo
the readers who fresh insights scout
both options chosen, those fates glue,
into life's sins, its losses, wins,
would revelation view.
© Jonathan Robin – robi3_0778 written 30 March 2005 revised 20070619 and 20081112 for previous version see below
Poetics
Some from within some from without
without a doubt flow true
as soul-song spins tale which begins
to grow, and then glows too
through weaving in and weeding out -
touch intuitions know
from phases past so phrases last
through threads which more threads sow...
© Jonathan Robin – written 30 March 2005
poem by Jonathan Robin
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From Our Happy Home
From our happy home
Through the world we roam
One week in all the year,
Making winter spring
With the joy we bring,
For Christmas-tide is here.
Now the eastern star
Shines from afar
To light the poorest home;
Hearts warmer grow,
Gifts freely flow,
For Christmas-tide has come.
Now gay trees rise
Before young eyes,
Abloom with tempting cheer;
Blithe voices sing,
And blithe bells ring,
For Christmas-tide is here.
Oh, happy chime,
Oh, blessed time,
That draws us all so near!
'Welcome, dear day,'
All creatures say,
For Christmas-tide is here.
poem by Louisa May Alcott
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Perpetual Motion
What (said the poet) should we care
For all this mad world's phantasies,
For rumours rife upon the air
Of terrors looming overseas?
If so, the soul were plagued alway
With far-fetched grieving, what of mirth?
For somewhere sorror broods all day;
Yet laughter, too, inhabits earth.
For the sun shines and the grass grows,
And the ferns nod above the stream
That down this placid valley flows;
Then let us rest a while, and dream.
For the grass grows as the sun shines,
And the stream flows and sings a song
To chide the sad heart that repines
Ah, summer, summer, linger long!
What (I gave answer) badgers me
Are not the tragedies of earth.
Despite your gay philosophy
Of seeking joy and claiming mirth
For boon companions as you go,
Oft times these very joys oppress
And suns that shine and streams that flow
May be a source of weariness.
For the grass grows and the sun gleams
To sear the grass and, where they flow,
I must bring water from the streams
To make the blinking grass to grow.
And the sun gleams and the grass grows -
Indeed I know it well enough;
For as it springs where water flows
I've got to cut the blasted stuff.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Song of Warriors and Saints
Sing me a song
That could lull me to sleep
And make me dream
Of my dream before I weep...
For in my sleep
I may see again
Visions I cannot remember
At dawn when I was awake.
And when my skin is seared
By the scorching heat
Of day, my sweet dreams
And the song can heal the pain.
Sing to me the song
Of a courageous warrior
In the field of battle
That leads to honor and the grave...
But in death, the warrior sees
The struggle to fight
For freedom and equality
Is his poem of elegy...
And in his wake,
The living sing a new song
And to his funeral they march
With a jaunty heart!
Sing to me the song
Of Solomon or Socrates -
The right way - or the road
To perdition and to shame!
Or the songs of angels
That lift my ailing spirit-
For the good and the truth,
In my heart, I always seek...
And with a melodious cry
My world is free of lies
And I live the life
I longed for before I die...
For the song in my dream
Is the song of all songs-
The song of warriors and saints!
poem by Jane Quijano
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From The Short Story A Christmas Dream, And How It Came True
From our happy home
Through the world we roam
One week in all the year,
Making winter spring
With the joy we bring
For Christmas-tide is here.
Now the eastern star
Shines from afar
To light the poorest home;
Hearts warmer grow,
Gifts freely flow,
For Christmas-tide has come.
Now gay trees rise
Before young eyes,
Abloom with tempting cheer;
Blithe voices sing,
And blithe bells ring,
For Christmas-tide is here.
Oh, happy chime,
Oh, blessed time,
That draws us all so near!
"Welcome, dear day,"
All creatures say,
For Christmas-tide is here.
poem by Louisa May Alcott
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Introit : V. Litany Of Beauty
Joy, if the Soul or aught immortal be,
How may this Beauty know mortality?
O Beauty, perfect child of Light,
Sempiternal spirit of delight!
White and set with gold like the gold of the night,
The gold of the stars in quiet weather,--
White and shapely and pure!--
O lily-flower from stain secure,
With life and virginity dying together!
One lily liveth so,
Liveth for ever unstained, immortal, a mystic flower:
Perfectly wrought its frame,
Gold inwrought and eternal white,
White more white than cold of the snow,
For never, never, near it came,
Never shall come till the end of all,
Hurtful thing in wind or shower,
Worm or stain or blight;
But ever, ever, gently fall
The dews elysian of years that flow
Where it doth live secure
In flawless comeliness mature,
Golden and white and pure.
In the fair far-shining glow
Of eternal and holy Light.
Beauty of earthly things
Wrought by God and with hands of men!
Beauty of Nature and Art,
Fashioned anew for each Time brings,
For each new soul and living heart!
Beauty of Beauty that fills the ken
Till the soul is swooning, faint with delight!
Beauty of human form and voice,
Of eyes and ears and lips!--
O golden hair and brow of white!--
Wine of Beauty that whoso sips
Doth die to a spirit free, and rejoice,
Living with God and living with men,
Rapt rejoice in eternal bliss,
Raising his face to meet the kiss
Of the Beauty seraphic he sees above
In figure of his love.
O Beauty of Wisdom unsought
That in trance to poet is taught,
Uttered in secret lay,
Singing the heart from earth away,
Cunning the soul from care to lure,--
O mystic lily, from stain and death secure,
Till the end of all to stay!
O shapely flower that must for ever endure!
O voice of God that every heart must hear!
O hymn of purest souls that dost unsphere
The ravished soul that hears! O white, white gem!
O rose that dost the senses drown in bliss!
No thought shall stay the wing, or stem
The song or win the heart to miss
Thy love, thy joy, thy rapture divine!
O Beauty, Beauty, ever thine
The soul, the heart, the brain,
To own three in a loud perpetual strain,
Shriller and sweeter than song of wine,
Than song of sorrow or love or war!
Beauty of heaven and sun and day,
Beauty of water and frost and star,
Beauty of dusk-tide, narrowing, grey!
Beauty of silver light,
Beauty of purple night,
Beauty of solemn breath,
Beauty of closèd eye, and sleep, and death!
Beauty of dawn and dew,
Beauty of morning peace,
Ever ancient and ever new,
Ever renewed till waking cease
Or sleep for ever, when loud the angel's word
Through all the world is heard!
Beauty of brute and bird,
Beauty of earthly creatures
Whose hearts by the hand of God are stirred!
Beauty of the soul,
Beauty informing forms and features,
Fairest to God's eye,--
Beauty that cannot fade or die
Though atoms to ruin roll!
Beauty of blinded Trust,
Led by the hand of God
To a heaven where Cherub hath never trod!
Austere Beauty of Truth
Lighting the way of the just!
Splendid Beauty of Youth
Staying when Youth is sped,
Living when Life is dead,
Burning in funeral dust!
The glory of form doth pale and pall,
Beauty endures to the end of all.
poem by Thomas MacDonagh
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Tear Tram Lines
This town has lost its sparkle,
The stars have lost their shine,
This town’s too full of echoes,
And my face too full of lines.
The shore has lost its tide,
The waves have lost their rhyme,
This town’s too full of tears,
And my smile too full of lines.
The clock has stopped it’s ticking
My feet dance out of time,
This town’s too full of yesterdays,
And my frown too full of lines
The cinema’s showing it’s last reel,
The pubs have all called time,
This towns too full of actors
And my script too full of unread lines….
MDCCCXCIII: A Prelude
Sweet days of breaking light,
or yet the shadowy might
and blaze of starry strife
possess’d my life;
sweet dawn of Beauty’s day,
first hint and smiling play
of the compulsive force
that since my course
across the years obeys;
not tho’ all earlier days
in me were buried, not
were ye forgot. –-
The northern kingdom’s dream,
prison’d in crystal gleam,
heard the pale flutes of spring,
her thin bells ring;
the tranced maiden’s eyes
open’d a far surmise,
and heavens and meadows grew
a tender blue
of petal-hearts that keep
thro’ their dark winter-sleep
true memory of delight,
a hidden light.
Then by her well Romance
waiting the fabled chance
dream’d all the forest-scene
in shifting green;
and Melusina’s gaze
lurk’d in the shadow’d glaze
of waters gliding still,
a witching ill;
or lost Undine wept
where the hid streamlet crept,
to the dusk murmuring low
her silvery woe.
Dim breaths in the dim shade
of the romantic glade
told of the timid pain
that hearken’d, fain,
how Beauty came to save
the prison’d life and wave
above the famish’d lands
her healing hands
(Beauty, in hidden ways
walking, a leafy maze
with magic odour dim,
far on life’s rim;
Beauty, sweet pain to kiss,
Beauty, sharp pain to miss,
in sorrow or in joy
a dear annoy;
Beauty, with waiting years
that bind the fount of tears
well-won if once her light
shine, before night).
Then the shy heart of youth
dared know its weening sooth,
then first thy godhead, Sun,
it’s life’s light one,
what time the hour outroll’d
its banner blazon’d gold
and all the honey’d time
rang rich with rhyme—-
rhyme, and the liquid laugh
of girlish spring, to quaff
granted each heart, and shed
about each head
a sound of harping blown
and airs of elfin tone
and gipsy waifs of song,
a dancing throng.
The yellow meads of May
acclaim’d the louder lay,
more rapturously athirst
for that fierce burst
of Summer’s clarioning,
what time his fulgent wing
should cleave the crystal spell
his hot eyes tell
each charm beneath the veil
his eager hands assail
and his red lips be prest
against her breast,
filling her every vein
with the diviner pain
of life beyond all dream
burning, supreme—-
(O natural ecstasy!
O highest grace, to be,
in every pulse to know
the Sungod’s glow!)
Thence the exulting strain
sped onward as a rain
of gold-linked notes
from unseen throats,
till the mad heart, adust,
of August’s aching lust
to do her beauty wrong
broke, and the song;
and in her poppied fate
ken life, grown all too great,
illumed with grateful breath
the lips of death. –-
But those deep fibres hold
the season’s mortal gold,
by silent alchemy
of soul set free,
and woven in vision’d shower
as each most secret hour
sheds the continuing bliss
in song or kiss. –-
O poets I have loved
when in my soul first moved
desire to breathe in one
love, song and sun,
your pages that I turn,
your jewelled phrases burn
richly behind a haze
of golden days. –-
And, O ye golden days,
tho’ since on stranger ways
to some undying war
the fatal star
of unseen Beauty draw
this soul, to occult law
obedient ever, not
are ye forgot.
poem by Christopher John Brennan
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An Echoing Truth
In a world of right and wrong, we have Truth, that echoes strong,
And from the world’s ancient past, God’s Truth shall forever last,
To be for men a guide and light, for discerning wrong from right;
God’s Guiding Truth for every need, when souls choose to heed.
God’s Word echoes loud and clear, as men of true wisdom fear,
God who reigns above the earth, who gives The Word true worth,
God, Who spoke this world in place, opens hearts by His Grace,
And with that Grace He will impart, Eternal Truth into man’s heart.
A Book, that many seldom read, has the Truth that all men need,
While others never even heard, the Eternal Truths in God’s Word;
Eternal Truths that man can trust, which were written for all of us,
Truth revealed to all the world, which all believers need to herald.
This truth’s more than knowledge of, The One who reigns above,
But what He had did for everyone, sending Christ, His Only Son,
His Truth, revealed to every nation, leads a soul to His Salvation,
When they come to Jesus Christ, that soul, receives Eternal Life.
Open The Word and you will see, Truth about our present reality,
And you will see through history, others pointing men to eternity,
How Godly men of old would tell, others about Heaven and Hell,
Knowing all are just one breath, away from Eternal Life or Death.
(Copyright ©06/2010)
Can Colour claim to read between the Lines? - 0732 - Current Version
Can colour claim to read between the lines
And paint fey portrait of each secret smile?
Nuances noting, can it reconcile
Chance extrapolations, sundry signs
Of the mind's ambitions, the designs
Link-locked within a bandwidth waves's confines,
Open doors, which, hidden seem to guide
Unexpected steps to answers bona fide.
Response and recognition each defines
Coded motives which tastes rainbow's shines
Laser beams of truth which will abide:
An insight into what occurs inside.
If from truth's spectrum something's infra re[a]d,
Much ultra may be drawn for years ahead.
The years ahead flagged by those tagged before
Offer opportunities to grow
Responding to Fate's multi-coloured flow,
Effects' and causes' waft weft spinning sure
Awarding here, withdrawing there, from core
Design to sign unstinting glow.
Between bright rainbow's light cones, rods, below
Explicit consciousness interpret, store
Tressed sense impressions which synapses store
With care to blend fair beauty, scare rare foe,
Enchantment share where wonders fast or slow
ENtwine mind's heady wine with wonders more.
THEme dreams teem, spin, in rainbow's coloured bands,
LINES, walls, dissolve, beams team true hands to hands.
(18 June 2008)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Life Is Eternal
(carly simon/teesa gohl)
Ive been doing a lot of thinking
About growing older and moving on
Nobody wants to be told that theyre getting on
For a long, long stay
But just how long and who knows
And how and where my spirit will go
Will it soar like jazz on a saxophone
Or evaporate on a breeze
Wont you tell me please
That life is eternal
And love is immortal
And death is only a horizon
Life is eternal
As we move into the light
And a horizon is nothing
Save the limit of our sight
Save the limit of our sight
Here on earth Im a lost soul
Ever trying to find my way back home
Maybe thats why each new star is born
Expanding heavens room
Eternity in bloom
And will I see you up in that heaven
In all its light will I know youre there
Will we say the things that we never dared
If wishing makes it so
Wont you let me know
That life is eternal
And love is immortal
And death is only a horizon
Life is eternal
As we move into the light
And a horizon is nothing
Save the limit of our sight
Save the limit of our sight
song performed by by Carly Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Between Dark Past and Future Flight
Between dark past and future flight
Effect and Cause we question quite,
rhyme time between midnight and noon
to read, mark, learn, digest this tune.
Soul travels far, ka’s second sight
scouts out from dune to blue lagoon -
with moral codes plays fey buffoon.
Between dark past and future flight
the butterfly finds wings for flight
although, in silk spin knit cocoon,
it knows not dawn from afternoon.
Mind mirage magic may excite
confusing notions – far and soon
merge premonition’s present boon.
Between dark past and future flight
trace space, expand and pace delight ~
from morn till midnight one should learn
to seed born insight, harvest earn,
bend to contentment very soon
ends, means, all harmonies attune
heart, soul, which whole from parts return.
Between dark past and future flight
now ‘stalac_might’ checks stalag tight
mankind evolved from the baboon
to trace his race pace picayune.
between the darkness and the light
most squander chances opportune
dreams rose themed spurned, they haste to tomb.
Vague contexts blurred, restrictions fight
unshadowed vision full, shy moon
casts spell whose pull’s forgot by noon.
Between dark past and future flight
The wheel spins on, ignores ‘wrong’, ‘right’
As light, dark, rainbow’s ark all churn
fear not fall near, nor rise call spurn.
Sandman plays game outside luck, blight,
for more than intellect's harpoon.
Hope blooms, may anguish, heartache, prune.
Between dark past and future flight
oft ‘Justice’ seems a notion quite
outside God’s scheme - ‘on joue le clown’
play insecurity immune
while mocking empty social rite
inventing, changing Scheme and gods
to bury fears inspired by sods.
Between dark past and future flight,
through silver starred aragonite,
December’s frost melts into June.
Some worries shrink while some balloon.
Concealed may be revealed despite
the veil few tear – invite, festoon
lass lonesome on her honeymoon.
Between dark past and future flight
Cupid, Apollo, Aphrodite,
injustice remedy, dragoon
Fate’s darts, spite filled, to build pontoon,
surprise to catalyse, excite,
scene set for future hid from sight
till pattern pieces knit in tune.
Between dark past and future flight
some role reversals reunite
checks, balances, inopportune
risks which too haughty silver spoon
takes, greedy, - tides turn, pride indict.
Who, rich, Today would play and croon,
Tomorrow buries very soon.
Between dark past and future flight
sleep paints saint, social parasite,
in wavelengths rainbow may lampoon
for wage-slave, sage, or loon tycoon.
Blind bodies curled, bind whirl-swirled quite,
from youth uncouth, ungainly goon,
“to lean and slippered pantaloon.”
Between dark past and future flight
enchanting maid, heroic knight,
play out day’s doubt, - though beer saloon
may spur the bleary eyed to swoon.
Einstein’s ignored for much which might
influence an inner tune
or new create, decoding rune.
Between dark past and future flight
is vision sent meant to incite
destiny's spermatazoon
egged on by p[h]antomime cartoon?
Is insight drawn through second-sight -
though chance seems blind behind sin’s call
true dance dreams find combined in all.
(c) Jonathan Robin - Rhyme scheme after R.W. Answell
written 23 March 2005 and 29 November 2006 revised and expanded 14 April 2008.
For initial version and Answell see below
___________
Between dark past and future flight
Between dark past and future flight
the butterfly finds wings for flight
although within the spun cocoon
it knows not dawn from afternoon.
From morn till midnight we can learn
to seed born insight, harvest earn.
Thus to contentment very soon
sweet thoughts will bend, send sweeter tune.
Between dark past and future flight
trace space, expand and pace delight ~
although Fate now plays the buffoon
mocks efforts with uncoded rune.
As light, dark, rainbow’s ark do churn
fear nothing near yet nothing spurn,
for more than meets March eye in June
may blossom ~ anguish, heartache, prune, ~
for fears grow dim, soon tears do dry,
and Sandman grim can only sigh
when confidence and trust balloon,
scout out from dune to blue lagoon.
23 March 2005
Between the Sunset and the Sea
Between the gate post and the gate
I lingered with my love till late;
And what cared I for time of night
Till wakened by the watch dog’s bite.
And thud of leathering boxtoed fate
Between the gatepost and the gate.
Between the seaside and the sea
I kissed my love and she kissed me;
But rapturous day was gruesome night,
And what is love but bloom and blight?
And what is kiss of mine to thee
Between the seaside and the sea?
Between the sunshine and the sun
I saw a face that hinted fun;
But what is fun, and what is face,
When driven at life’s killing pace?
I simply say that I have none
Between the sunshine and the sun.
Between the bumble and the bee
Full many a soul has had to flee;
And what is love, may I enquire,
When asked to build the kitchen fire?
Or who would not leap in the sea
Between the bumble and the bee?
Between the tea store and the tea
There is a wide immensity;
A dollar twenty five a pound,
And not a nickel to be found.
Then what has fate in store for thee
Between the tea store and the tea?
R.W. ANSWELL
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stranger In A Strange Land
Was many years ago that I left home and came this way
I was a young man full of hopes and dreams
But now it seems that all is lost and nothing gained
Sometimes things aint what they seem
No brave new world no brave new world
Night and day I scan horizon sea and sky
My spirit wanders endlessly
Until the day will dawn and friends from home discover why
Hear me calling rescue me
Set me free, set me free
Lost in this place and leave no trace
Stranger in a strange land
Land of ice and snow
Trapped inside this prison
Lost and far from home
One hundred years have gone and men again they come that way
To find the answer to the mistery
They found his body lying where if fell that day
Preserved in time for all to see
No brave new world no brave new world
Lost in this place to leave no trace
What became off men that started
All are gone and souls departed
Left me here in this prison
So all alone
song performed by by Iron Maiden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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