The Predestined
Dear, we might have known you were
To die young--and were we blind
To the light on face and hair?
Dear, so simple and so kind.
You were clean as your own sword
And as straight too and steel true.
In the Army of the Lord
What promotion waits for you!
I can see you where you stand,
Knightly soul, so clean, so brave.
With a new sword in your hand
Where the lilied banners wave.
Flower of simple chivalry,
Marked for honour and for grace;
It was very plain to see
The clear shining of your face.
You are gone now: it's turned cold:
Very good you were and dear.
Wear the looks you wore of old
When we meet,--some other year.
poem by Katharine Tynan
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Related quotes
Ninon De Lenclos, On Her Last Birthday
So let me have the rouge again,
And comb my hair the curly way.
The poor young men, the dear young men
They'll all be here by noon today.
And I shall wear the blue, I think-
They beg to touch its rippled lace;
Or do they love me best in pink,
So sweetly flattering the face?
And are you sure my eyes are bright,
And is it true my cheek is clear?
Young what's-his-name stayed half the night;
He vows to cut his throat, poor dear!
So bring my scarlet slippers, then,
And fetch the powder-puff to me.
The dear young men, the poor young men-
They think I'm only seventy!
poem by Dorothy Parker
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Down at the Walmart Parking Lot!
You do not hold what I hold dear,
And when I told you what I fear,
You laughed and said... 'That's mighty strange! ...
Just have a beer... This world won't change...
What will we care? ... once dead and gone?
You know it's all just overblown...
Global warming and world war three...
What worries you don't worry me! '
Still glad I put this in your ear...
We do not hold the same things dear!
What's dear to me is not to you...
Your simple truth is hardly true,
Your blurry lines of church and state,
Your holy/patriotic hate.
Your righteous war... your pius sword...
Joy of dear hunting for the lord.
See, I don't want what I ain't got,
Don't miss winter when it's too hot!
Won't cry for August when it's cold!
Young's OK but I don't dread old!
Seen UN-happy in old and young...
More hot!
More rich!
More thin!
More hung!
Don't want a real close parking spot,
Down at the Walmart parking lot!
Things that you find so fantastic,
Mass-produced and mostly plastic,
Such things carry no real weight here...
I
do
not
hold
what
you
hold
dear!
From the new (coming-soon) book... Storm Child.
From the new (coming-soon) book... Storm Child.
www.LouisianaBoy.com
poem by ToddMichael St. Pierre
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So Much To Do
The face of the world is a homely face,
And the look of the world unkind,
When harsh on your arm a hand it lays
And bids you into the grind,
That 's little to your mind, my dear,
That 's little to your mind.
But it 's work that counts in the world, you see;
Not what we dream, but do:
For the dreamer of dreams, whatever he be,
If he 'd have his dreams come true,
Must be a workman, too, my dear,
Must be a workman, too.
So much to do; so much to know;
So much that life would shirk!
But each is one of a hive below,
The world's great Hive of Irk,
Where each must do his work, my dear,
Each one must do his work.
A song, a look, a word of cheer,
Will help more than a sigh!
For this is the law of the hive, my dear,
That every bee must try, my dear,
And all the drones must die, my dear,
That all the drones must die.
Oft-times it seems that the end is far,
And the work we do, in vain;
That night will never reveal a star,
And day bring only rain,
To trouble our hearts again, my dear,
To trouble our hearts again.
But ever the stars are shining there
With ever the old regard;
And be it foul, or be it fair,
However long debarred,
All work has its reward, my dear,
All work has its reward.
Could summer come without the rose?
Or morn without the sun?
And thus shall toil bring soul's repose
To each and every one,
Whose work at last is done, my dear,
Whose work at last is done.
For the face of the world is a homely face,
But the look in its eyes is kind
To him who sets his heart's brisk pace
To the work he has in mind,
And turns not with the wind, my dear,
And turns not with the wind.
poem by Madison Julius Cawein
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The Old Soldier
Lest the young soldiers be strange in heaven,
God bids the old soldier they all adored
Come to Him and wait for them, clean, new-shriven,
A happy doorkeeper in the House of the Lord.
Lest it abash them, the strange new splendour,
Lest it affright them, the new robes clean;
Here's an old face, now, long-tried, and tender,
A word and a hand-clasp as they troop in.
'My boys,' he greets them: and heaven is homely,
He their great captain in days gone o'er;
Dear is the friend's face, honest and comely,
Waiting to welcome them by the strange door.
poem by Katharine Tynan
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Stand Fast!
Stand fast, Great Britain!
Together England, Scotland, Ireland stand
One in the faith that makes a mighty land,
True to the bond you gave and will not break
And fearless in the fight for conscience' sake!
Against the Giant Robber clad in steel,
With blood of trampled Belgium on his heel,
Striding through France to strike you down at last,
Britain, stand fast !
Stand fast, brave land!
The Huns are thundering toward the citadel;
They prate of Culture but their path is Hell;
Their light is darkness, and the bloody sword
They wield and worship is their only Lord.
O land where reason stands secure on right,
O land where freedom is the source of light,
Against the mailed Barbarians' deadly blast,
Britain, stand fast!
Stand fast, dear land!
Thou island mother of a world-wide race,
Whose children speak thy tongue and love thy face,
Their hearts and hopes are with thee in the strife,
Their hands will break the sword that seeks thy life;
Fight on until the Teuton madness cease;
Fight bravely on, until the word of peace
Is spoken in the English tongue at last,
Britain, stand fast!
poem by Henry Van Dyke
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In Memoriam : Francis Archibald Douglas
Dear friend, dear brother, I have owed you this
Since many days, the tribute of a song.
Shall I cheat you who never did a wrong
To any man ? No, therefore though I miss
All art, all skill, in this short armistice
From my soul's war against the bitter throng
Of present woes, let these poor lines be strong
In love enough to bear a brother's kiss.
Dear saint, true knight, I cannot weep for you,
Nor if I could would I call back the breath
To your dear body ; God is very wise,
All that this year had in its womb He knew,
And, loving you, He sent His Son like Death,
To put His hand over your kind gray eyes.
poem by Lord Alfred Douglas
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Happy Birthday....
Dear Lord.... Good morning
Thanks for brightly December
Thanks for those smile
Thanks for nice neighborhood
Thanks for forgiveness
Thanks for a very special today
For a Birthday of my son's cousin
Dear Lord... Let The Holly Spirit
Bring our smile in our family
Let us have a a good respect for one to another
We can't be a hero without You, my dear Lord
Lord, let us put this heart on You
With share to others
With the unspoken of True Love
But with the act of love
Dear Lord.... You open our eyes
The winner of all battle are
People who can change lust in to true love
The winner of all games
are not the people who have a lot of money
But the winner are people who can always smile
when people insulted them
when people humiliated them
when people can give to others even though they are poor
Dear Lord.... I am honest to you
It's difficult to be a winner
But i try my best to love to people who hate and hurt me
I try to give without ask them to return
I pray for them Lord
So they have a pure heart to others too
Lord, i believe You will make us smile
I don't want to cry
I let go my sins
And i want to do it right
Only to make You happy
Lord... by saying these words
A peaceful feeling is really coming in to my heart
Keep my heart always clean from any sin
Amen..
Content with
'Go to hell, go to hell'
Blasted one young teen
Why? ' What am I doing on net? ' I said
'You are doing nonsense, I bet'
Taken a back for a while
Fumed, just disappeared the smile
Was I so unwelcome or wrong?
Had I no place to find among?
I am in my teen, and not yet twenty
You may have lived with years plenty
'Are you not ashamed' to be on net
'Dear you can blast, but have we ever met? I asked
No, but you have commitment a sin
Put your ideas in just dust bin
Whether be it pot or simple tin
I will not let you allow or win
I said “Dear calm down'
You aren't the only one in town
You may frown, eyes may turn brown
Not only 'hell', but use and add another noun
Not only sex on phone but nudity
Still may be there simple purity
Why not you make just clarity?
What can be best like the quality? I argued
'No then also, you just go to hell
No ringing alarms but only bell,
It will be bad if you do so well
Consider it right and jump in the well. She argued
Oh, dear teen, you are simple kid
You know not and have no lid
Candle can be lit and not just ignite
If you have will and idea definite
Fear not for a while from simple man
Freedom may be right but can’t be a ban
Never do or suffer from narrow thought
Danger may lurking but always to be fought
I thought for a while but did not cave
Honour was at stake and necessary to save
Things may be right but ways don’t pave
She was foolish teen but not brave
It is always good to be friends on line
Wrong signal it sends and undermine
The prestige and status should be respected
One must realize……………..
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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My Dear Friend
you have been there for me no matter what
you have pick me up when i fall down
my dear friend
you are the reason why i am still alive
you are the reason why i can love again
because of you i have the strength to fight against enemies
you understand the pain i'm going through
you make me stand up on my feet
my dear friend
you have always there waiting for my call
you have always put a smile on my face when i feel sad
my dear friend
what would i do without you
who would i be without you
you never avoided me like everybody else
god drift us apart
we no longer see each other face again
my dear friend
everything seems different and harder when you're here
my tears are like waterfall
they keep on falling
my dear friend
please come back into my life
holding hands in the darkness
sing our favorite song until we fall asleep
my dear friend
let finish what we has started together
alone it will take years
my dear friend
you fight my fight
you got my back
my dear friend
how could i thank you
what should i do to please you
oh my dear, dear friend
it is a pleasure to have you as a friend
thank you my dear, dear friend
poem by Guenael Oristel
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Within the Alamo
He drew a straight line
Across the dirt floor:
Within, it was death-still--
Without, was a roar
And a scream of the trumpets:
Within, was a Word--
And a line drawn clean
By the sweep of a sword.
No help was coming, now--
That hope was done.
No more the free air,
no more the sun
Bright on the blue leagues
Of buffalo-clover.
Travis drew a line
And they all crossed over.
Travis had a wife at home,
Travis was young;
Travis had a little boy
Whose tight arms clung,
But Travis saw a far light
Shining before:
Travis drew a sword-cut
Across the dirt floor.
And now the old fort stands
Placid and dim,
Blinking and dreaming
Of them and of him;
And now past the Plaza
Other tides roar,
since Travis wrote "Valor"
Across the sand floor,
And the guns they will rust,
And the captains will go,
And an end come at last
To the wars that we know,
But as long as there travails
A Spirit in man,
In a war that was ancient
Before Time began,
Here will the brave come
To read a high Word--
Cut clean in the dust
By the stroke of a sword.
poem by Karle Wilson Baker
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Dear Guardian Angel
Dear Guardian Angel
Thank you for watching over me
Dear Guardian Angel
You are oh so sweet
You protect me from the wrong
And lead me to the right
If I’m lost in the dark
You take me to the light
Dear Guardian Angel
Why do you care?
Dear Guardian Angel
Thank you for always being there
You take my hand
And wipe away my tears
You hold me close
And fight away my fears
Dear Guardian Angel
Please stay close to me
Dear Guardian Angel
Thank you, I know you’ll always believe
You watch me sleeping quietly
You caress my face lovingly
You brush my bangs out of my eyes
You give me sunny skies
Dear Guardian Angel
Can I make it up to you?
Dear Guardian Angel
Thank you for always being true
Guardian Angel
I thank you
Guardian Angel…
I thank you
poem by Tyra Falconwing
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Dear Heart Part 1
Dear heart are you opening up to let someone in,
someone that's more than just a friend,
dear heart are you giving it all away,
the love you conceal,
are you letting it stray,
dear heart be careful what you do,
I couldn't live if he broke you,
dear heart did you find the one you need,
are you finally out there and finally free,
dear heart are you beating with passion and grace,
do you seem to beat faster,
when you see his face,
dear heart are you saying that this is true,
you're not alone now,
because I love him too.
poem by Sonya Simmons
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A Fall Of Grace
Sometimes the world turns on you
Waters ravage your lonely shore
The sky offers no remorse
Beyond the abysmal pale
And God is nowhere to be found
No ones around to hear your cries
Cast your stone into the ocean
Fill your heart with silver and gold
Dear Light, hold me close
Fly away with my heart
Ill cross the roads
That you've paved for me
But I cannot find peace
In this fall of grace
My eyes are dry from the tears
I've seen the demons take away
All that has been gained
Let the water flow inside
An end to the sorrow
That plagues the frail strings
On the instrument of life
Soon screams will follow in the wind
Dear Light, won't you take my hand
Replace the death in my soul
Let the water bleed out
Dear Light, won't you lay me down
Cover me in sticks and stones
Crush my brittle bones
Dear Light, you let me fall
In this hollow disgrace
Let the tears run down my face
Dear Light, you are the downfall of my grace
poem by Matthew Peel
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Hold On Dear Brother
Hold on dear brother
Hold on dear brother
Hold on dear brother
Oh brother
Ooooo
Tried to close my eyes
To all around me
Oh no you just cant escape
If I lose one friend
Will I still have you
Wont you please
Hold on dear brother
Hold on dear brother
Hold on dear brother
Oh brother
Ooooo
What can I love that isnt you
But you never understand inside of me
Till you realize a look
You never get more than you took
Wont you please
Hold on dear brother
Hold on dear brother
Hold on dear brother
Oh brother
Brother
In your heart you know it love
A simple feeling that you shout
I want your love
You touch my hand
I need your love
To carry me home
In your heart you know it love
A simple feeling that you shout
I want your love
You touch my
I need your love
To carry me home
Hold on dear brother
Hold on dear brother
Hold on dear brother
Hold on dear brother
Hold on dear brother
Hold on dear brother
Hold on dear brother
Hold on dear brother
Hold on dear brother
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Pretty Woman
I
That fawn-skin-dappled hair of hers,
And the blue eye
Dear and dewy,
And that infantine fresh air of hers!
II
To think men cannot take you, Sweet,
And enfold you,
Ay, and hold you,
And so keep you what they make you, Sweet!
III
You like us for a glance, you know—
For a word's sake
Or a sword's sake,
All's the same, whate'er the chance, you know.
IV
And in turn we make you ours, we say—
You and youth too,
Eyes and mouth too,
All the face composed of flowers, we say.
V
All's our own, to make the most of, Sweet—
Sing and say for,
Watch and pray for,
Keep a secret or go boast of, Sweet!
VI
But for loving, why, you would not, Sweet,
Though we prayed you,
Paid you, brayed you
in a mortar—for you could not, Sweet!
VII
So, we leave the sweet face fondly there:
Be its beauty
Its sole duty!
Let all hope of grace beyond, lie there!
VIII
And while the face lies quiet there,
Who shall wonder
That I ponder
A conclusion? I will try it there.
IX
As,—why must one, for the love foregone,
Scout mere liking?
Thunder-striking
Earth,—the heaven, we looked above for, gone!
X
Why, with beauty, needs there money be,
Love with liking?
Crush the fly-king
In his gauze, because no honey-bee?
XI
May not liking be so simple-sweet,
If love grew there
'Twould undo there
All that breaks the cheek to dimples sweet?
XII
Is the creature too imperfect,
Would you mend it
And so end it?
Since not all addition perfects aye!
XIII
Or is it of its kind, perhaps,
Just perfection—
Whence, rejection
Of a grace not to its mind, perhaps?
XIV
Shall we burn up, tread that face at once
Into tinder,
And so hinder
Sparks from kindling all the place at once?
XV
Or else kiss away one's soul on her?
Your love-fancies!
—A sick man sees
Truer, when his hot eyes roll on her!
XVI
Thus the craftsman thinks to grace the rose,—
Plucks a mould-flower
For his gold flower,
Uses fine things that efface the rose:
XVII
Rosy rubies make its cup more rose,
Precious metals
Ape the petals,—
Last, some old king locks it up, morose!
XVIII
Then how grace a rose? I know a way!
Leave it, rather.
Must you gather?
Smell, kiss, wear it—at last, throw away!
poem by Robert Browning from Men and Women (1855)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Ballad III
Now in good sooth my joy is vanished clean,
And all my gladness changed to grievous ire :
What profits it, dear flower ! since I have seen
Thy going hence, that I could never tire
When thou wast here
To greet thee every day in every year ?
Delight that was is grown disaster fell :
Alas ! How can I bid thee now farewell !
My love, my choice, my lady and my queen,
For whom my heart is kindled in desire,
What shall I do when love from what hath been
Taketh the gold and leaveth me the mire ?
Nor far nor near
Is comfort found, nor any pleasant cheer.
Gone is thy beauty, that did all excel :
Alas ! How can I bid thee now farewell !
Thine is the deed, O evil tongue and keen !
Forged for my fate upon an anvil dire :
Fortune, that loveth not my hand, I ween,
Nor yet my pen, did in the task conspire.
No help is clear
Save Death, when God shall grant him to appear
Else thou alone could'st win me out of hell.
Alas ! How can I bid thee now farewell !
Ah, simple and dear !
At least behold me and my mourning drear.
Thy loss is torment more than I can tell.
Alas ! How can I bid thee now farewell !
poem by Christine de Pizan
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Sparkling Repartee
“Sparkle between clean sheets –
intention here
second thoughts defeats.
Such charm disarms, my Dear,
succulent treats, -
invitation clear.
Form, face, one seldom meets
combined with cheer, -
past loves deletes.
There are none weary here
life’s game completes
its course till bier.”
“Bright sparkler shining clear
between the sheets
might bring date near.
Gold ring heartstrings completes
gilt edge sincere,
no guilt defeats
intentions which, sincere,
help ends meet. Sweets
enhance, my Dear,
your itch for sexy treats,
etched diamond here
for love competes.”
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Kiss Me Dear..Part3
Kiss me dear kiss me with lustful.
Kiss me dear kiss me with luxurious.
Kiss me dear kiss me with lyrical.
Kiss me dear kiss me with lovable.
Kiss me dear kiss me with humorous.
Kiss me dear kiss me with hummed.
Kiss me dear kiss me with hugged.
Kiss me dear kiss me with hopeful.
Kiss me dear kiss me with gutsy.
Kiss me dear kiss me with guaranty.
Kiss me dear kiss me with gratified.
Kiss me dear kiss me with graciousness.
Couse your kiss is a consomme.............
It's different taste..........
and i'will needs again...
Kiss me dear kiss me on sunday.
Kiss me dear kiss me on monday.
Kiss me dear kiss me on tuesday.
Kiss me dear kiss me on wednesday.
Kiss me dear kiss me on thursday.
Kiss me dear kiss me on friday.
Kiss me dear kiss me on saturday.
Couse your kiss is my dish everyday.
and i'will needs again.
Kiss me dear kiss me on january.
Kiss me dear kiss me on february.
Kiss me dear kiss me on march.
Kiss me dear kiss me on april.
Kiss me dear kiss me on may.
Kiss me dear kiss me on june.
Kiss me dear kiss me on july.
Kiss me dear kiss me on august.
Kiss me dear kiss me on september.
Kiss me dear kiss me on october.
Kiss me dear kiss me on november.
Kiss me dear kiss me on december.
Couse your kiss is my: every times
every days
every month
and every years.
I'will needs again
My Dear Dearest
My Dear, Dearest, Dear, [Oh dear dear me]
Are you too blind to see?
Far apart is the sea from the sky
And when did I last see you laugh?
And when did I last see you cry?
So far away
Does space divide?
The heart from the body?
It was so long ago
I saw you smile
I glimpsed your soul
Across a table one wooden space between
Did I ever really know you?
Is love what it seems
Or is love just for breaking
And awakening in dreams.?
My dear, dearest dear,
We have come to this place
But I must start this letter
Oh my dear, dear me!
What a waste!
poem by Yvette Smith
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Mary
DEAR honored name, beloved for human ties,
But loved and honored first that One was given
In living proof to erring mortal eyes
That our poor earth is near akin to heaven.
Sweet word of dual meaning: one of grace,
And born of our kind advocate above;
And one by memory linked to that dear face
That blessed my childhood with its mother-love,
And taught me first the simple prayer, 'To thee,
Poor banished sons of Eve, we send our cries.'
Through mist of years, those words recall to me
A childish face upturned to loving eyes.
And yet to some the name of Mary bears
No special meaning and no gracious power;
In that dear word they seek for hidden snares,
As wasps find poison in the sweetest flower.
But faithful hearts can see, o'er doubts and fears,
The Virgin link that binds the Lord to earth;
Which to the upturned trusting face appears
A more than angel, though of human birth.
The sweet-faced moon reflects on cheerless night
The rays of hidden sun to rise to-morrow;
So unseen God still lets His promised light,
Through holy Mary, shine upon our sorrow.
poem by John Boyle O'Reilly
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