Related quotes: How beautiful The lover I...

Hand Of Fate

How beautiful
The lover I did not know.
That mute delight of her smile.
And so wonderful
The angel too,
That didn't show.
Invisible in white only to beguile.
Apprehended by the hand of fate,
They both waited
At my garden gate.
Humming like a storm.
Then they were gone.
When their suns had shone.
Like rose petal swarm.
The plume so red.
Lovers that never shared my bed,
They rise from love's funeral pyre.
To the music of an ancient lyre.
Played only by the wind.
Hopes pinned
On a crescent moon.
Strewn now
Across galaxy of weeping stars.
Trapped behind the bars
Of a romantic rhyme,
To mime
Words I will never hear.
Only bells
Of a Sunday morning peace
Send sweet reply,
Crystal clear.
When promises
Clinging to my heart,
Do cease.
As Achingly I wait.
Slapped by the hand of fate.
-So softly though.
Never to receive
True love's blooming flower.
But to be washed away
By Heaven's looming
Silver shower.
My heart pours like summer
Into winter's frozen cup.
All I ask, maiden of the shadows,
Is that
You feel my eyes.
And look up.

poem by Kevin East
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Related quotes

Christmas Eve.

Our tears have frozen and lie on silver avenue with snowflake peace
And i will think of your lamplit smile when my faith in love does cease
But as moon lights the snowman choir and lovers kiss
In the flames of my fire
I dream whether i should laugh or grieve
And i ache alone this Christmas Eve.
Love such a fragrant flower
But she and her promise ride the rooftops and are gone
And distant sleigh bells that only children hear
Drift past stars where our light once shone
And my prayer that rises like a kite
Will plead i can hold you just for tonight
As fate continues to dance and weave
I just watch the cars on Christmas Eve.

Mistresses and husbands
Lovers and wives
Drive to their honey
Bees to their hives.
I walk from the shops as rush hour dies
And i kiss your cheek
And you squeeze my hand
Through frosted park
Past the bandstand
Tomorrow never came
As i waited in the cold
You never said goodbye or rang me
Now we're apart and growing old.
I still hear you singing in your kitchen
You wrote 'I love you' on my album sleeve
And you'll hear our song to remind you
And we'll cry when it's Christmas Eve.

poem by Kevin East
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Sunday Morning

Maurice white, sheldon reynolds & allee willis
Intro chorus:
Ooh, sunday morning
You;re gonna find my love shining on you
Oh, Im waiting
And my heart is anticipating
Your face
On my pillow
Feel sunshine pouring through the window
Like the grapes on the vine
Love gets sweeter with time
You were made to love
Chorus:
Ooh, sunday morning (Ill see you sunday morning)
Ooh, sunday morning
Its like the best of everything falling on you
Your eyes
Shining on me
Youre the brightest star, that ever could be
Your kiss
Oh, Im so thankful
The love that we share, Im sincerely grateful
The wind blowin in the tree
Singing love songs to me
Singing you were made to love
Chorus:
Ooh, sunday morning (Ill see you sunday morning)
Youre gonna find my love shining on you
Ooh, sunday morning
Its like the best of everything falling on you
Ooh, sunday morning (Ill see you sunday morning)
When we shared sweet love like no other
Ooh, sunday morning
Like a summer day with your lover
Ooh sunday morning (Ill see you sunday morning)
When we shared sweet love like no other

song performed by by Earth Wind And Fire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

My beautiful flower

You are my flower
you are my sweet soft petal
hand in hand
...in my hand
holding this precious gift
the blossom of your beauty
you are my beautiful flower

You are my flower
you are my sweet soft petal
heart in heart
just one heart
beating to your sweet aroma
the aroma of your splendor
you are my beautiful flower

You are my flower
you are my first blossom
blossoming love
you are my love
you are my first and true
like sunset ocean blue
you are my beautiful flower
i am glad i picked you

poem by Allen Steble
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

My Beautiful Love

you are my flower
you are my sweet soft petal
hand in hand
...in my hand
holding this precious gift
the blossom of your beauty
you are my beautiful flower

you are my flower
you are my sweet soft petal
heart in heart
just one heart
beating to your sweet aroma
the aroma of your splendor
you are my beautiful flower

you are my flower
you are my first blossom
blossoming love
you are my love
you are my first and true
like sunset ocean blue
you are my beautiful flower
I am glad I picked you

poem by Chidiebere Franklin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

I am Invisible...

I think that I must be invisible,
For I have waited at love's doorway.
Yet you have merely passed me by
Like a lazy summer afternoon nap...

I spread my wings and you failed to notice,
Like an angel preparing to take flight.
A lover willing to give without reason,
For simply loving is the answer to being...

I caressed your cheek so softly,
Like your soft blonde hair in a gentle breeze.
I gazed long into those beautiful green eye's,
Yet you stared right through me like a ghost...

I have waited for you in the storm,
With adoring gifts and a lovers smile.
Yet you passed me by without a single look,
For I am invisible... I must be...

Spread the love... The peace will follow...

poem by Cosmic Dreamer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Summer Of '78

It was one of those summers
lasting forever
making the winter wait.
A summer of music and passion
the summer of '78.
You appeared like the summer
sudden and perfect
and not a day too late.
I swear there was music
when I found you
that summer of '78.
It seemed we floated
through the days
and nights were always
filled with stars.
And it seemed every song
that they played on the
radio was ours.
It was one of those summers
only for lovers
touched by the hand of fate.
And now when winter's are long
I remember the summer of '78...

song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Trapped Again

Here I am baby, right where you found me
Trying to break these chains that surround me
If I look a little different, its because Ive changed
Half-painted pictures are all that remains
I cant let my past mistakes
Let em bring me down
I aint waitin on no angel of mercy
Ive tried my best and I cant help myself
And Im trapped again
And I cant get out without losing you
And Im trapped again
Why cant you feel what Im going through
Im trapped again
I need an answer girl, cant you see
Im trapped again
Come and rescue me
Monday morning came so fast
What a fool to think that dreams would last
Close my eyes and its still so clear
Remember the night girl, the world disappeared
Cant let the hand of fate
Let it drag me down
I cant get no angel of mercy
I cam to stay but I got swept away
And Im trapped again
And I cant get out without losing you
And Im trapped again
Why cant you feel what Im going through
Im trapped again
I need an answer girl, cant you see
Im trapped again
Come and rescue me
Cant let the hand of fate
Let it drag me down
I cant get no angel of mercy
I cam to stay but I got swept away
And Im trapped again
And I cant get out without losing you
And Im trapped again
Why cant you feel what Im going through
Im trapped again
I need an answer girl, cant you see
Im trapped again
Come and rescue me
And Im trapped again
And I cant get out without losing you
And Im trapped again
Why cant you feel what Im going through
Im trapped again

song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Cadences

I
(MINOR)

THE ANCIENT memories buried lie,
And the olden fancies pass;
The old sweet flower-thoughts wither and fly,
And die as the April cowslips die,
That scatter the bloomy grass.

All dead, my dear! And the flowers are dead,
And the happy blossoming spring;
The winter comes with its iron tread,
The fields with the dying sun are red,
And the birds have ceas’d to sing.

I trace the steps on the wasted strand
Of the vanish’d springtime’s feet:
Wither’d and dead is our Fairyland,
For Love and Death go hand in hand
Go hand in hand, my sweet!

II
(MAJOR)

OH, what shall be the burden of our rhyme,
And what shall be our ditty when the blossom’s on the lime?
Our lips have fed on winter and on weariness too long:
We will hail the royal summer with a golden-footed song!

O lady of my summer and my spring,
We shall hear the blackbird whistle and the brown sweet throstle sing,
And the low clear noise of waters running softly by our feet,
When the sights and sounds of summer in the green clear fields are sweet.

We shall see the roses blowing in the green,
The pink-lipp’d roses kissing in the golden summer sheen;
We shall see the fields flower thick with stars and bells of summer gold,
And the poppies burn out red and sweet across the corn-crown’d wold.

The time shall be for pleasure, not for pain;
There shall come no ghost of grieving for the past betwixt us twain;
But in the time of roses our lives shall grow together,
And our love be as the love of gods in the blue Olympic weather.

poem by John Howard Payne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

My Lover & Acute;S Box

song performed by by Garbage
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

A blooming flower without Petal

all come to whisper the perfume of sweet
fume dried like dune in the wind of the sun,
where all the raindropp falls into the ground of
waited wasted land; pasteurized in the moist
of sweeten halos of welcome

dried in the wind and capture the dew of the
morning midst; a no where to run but shadow
of the solid ground of strength, the wall behind
the lovely Daffodils in the oasis of truth; and
as it find the flavor of hope

scent the soft melody of the past and ring all
the bells that welcome the day of your forever
with me, the leaves kiss no more in the garden
of yesterday a honey comb of my stay; beats all
that step in the knocking door of where i will
always be true to what you say, thank you

find my dear heart, the flowers begins to bloom,
and the petal, never be gone in your memory it
will be done, let me wait until, my last touch in
your dried hand, and i will be lost forever in your
wishing dream

hold me not in your dreamy heart, bloom the
golden petal in the meadow of everlasting heart in
your wonderful hand, the palm of where i always
remember your memory, oh! my dream, as i stay
with you dear

i leave no regret and find my trouble heart no
more, for my hand is to cool to hold your stay....

poem by Antonio Liao
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

New Beginning

New beginning

Her kiss tasted of iron railing a frost bitten dawn…. My lips bled.
Her eyes were frozen stars in a deadly
galaxy of tranquillity.
A beauty flawless. Her body…unbending, unwilling, an ice maiden in a winter forest.
Her blue lips had spots of cardinal crystal, futile my attempt of resurrection.
My love I laid by her feet, struck a match in the vast night of silence
Ash and ember …I’m free.
In the glade, amongst roses of gold,
my new love waited…hand in hand
we walked to where the day begins

poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

An Old Memory

How sweet the music sounded
That summer long ago,
When you were by my side, love,
To list its gentle flow.

I saw your eyes a-shining,
I felt your rippling hair,
I kissed your pearly cheek, love,
And had no thought of care.

And gay or sad the music,
With subtle charm replete;
I found in after years, love
'Twas you that made it sweet.

For standing where we heard it,
I hear again the strain;
It wakes my heart, but thrills it
With sad, mysterious pain.

It pulses not so joyous
As when you stood with me,
And hand in hand we listened
To that low melody.

Oh, could the years turn back, love!
Oh, could events be changed
To what they were that time, love,
Before we were estranged;

Wert thou once more a maiden
Whose smile was gold to me;
Were I once more the lover
Whose word was life to thee,--

O God! could all be altered,
The pain, the grief, the strife,
And wert thou--as thou shouldst be--
My true and loyal wife!

But all my tears are idle,
And all my wishes vain.
What once you were to me, love,
You may not be again.

For I, alas! like others,
Have missed my dearest aim.
I asked for love. Oh, mockery!
Fate comes to me with fame!

poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

My Fair Silver Maiden

Oh my fair silver maiden
I see your eyes in the stars that light the dark,
Your hair in the swaying summer grass,
Your smile in the majestic sunrise
Oh my fair silver maiden
Your scent is always on the next wind
Your sweet, intoxicating scent.
Oh my fair silver maiden
Tell me where you are
So that I might find you
And my heart be complete.
Oh my fair silver maiden
How I long for you
How I cry for you
How I search for you.
Oh my fair silver maiden
Always beyond the next wind.
Tell me where you are
So that I might find you
And my heart be complete.
Oh my fair silver maiden.

poem by Cameron Bird
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

My Delight and Thy Delight

My delight and thy delight
Walking, like two angels white,
In the gardens of the night:

My desire and thy desire
Twining to a tongue of fire,
Leaping live, and laughing higher:

Thro' the everlasting strife
In the mystery of life.

Love, from whom the world begun,
Hath the secret of the sun.

Love can tell, and love alone,
Whence the million stars were strewn,
Why each atom knows its own,
How, in spite of woe and death,
Gay is life, and sweet is breath:

This he taught us, this we knew,
Happy in his science true,
Hand in hand as we stood
'Neath the shadows of the wood,
Heart to heart as we lay
In the dawning of the day.

poem by Robert Seymour Bridges
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The White Rose

A lonely kid had no friends,
within his home his world ends.
He used to dream about colorful roses,
his love for roses was in heavy doses.
His nights filled with fears and tears,
days rolled like million years.
His mom took him to a rose garden one day,
she wanted to buy him a rose plant for his birthday.
The rose plants giggled about the boys face.
Their words wiped his happiness without a trace.
A dropp of his tear fell on a white rose's petal.
The petal turned red like a rare earth metal.
The plant pleaded him 'please don't cry'.
The words of the rose plant made him fly.
He took that plant to his garden.
From then his life was a gladden.
He took care of the white rose like a baby.
Loving that white rose was his full-time hobby.
His dreams and heart were filled with love.
His heart was pure like the whitest dove.
At an evening the rose looked dull and dry.
The kid was full of cry and wondering why,
he didn't stopped his painful weep,
that whole night he didn't sleep.
His tired eyes slept for a minute in a doze,
a voice in his dream told something about the rose,
the dawn broke with the rose blooming,
but the kid was gone missing.
He was never been found not even a hint.
His heart was beating under the roots of the rose plant.
Because in his dream he heard that,
the rose can live forever with a human heart.
So he left his heart and he depart.

poem by Vimal Kumar N
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Juliet After The Masquerade. By Thompson

SHE left the festival, for it seem'd dim
Now that her eye no longer dwelt on him,
And sought her chamber,--gazed, (then turn'd away),
Upon a mirror that before her lay,
Half fearing, half believing her sweet face
Would surely claim within his memory place.
The hour was late, and that night her light foot
Had been the constant echo of the lute;
Yet sought she not her pillow, the cool air
Came from the casement, and it lured her there.
The terrace was beneath, and the pale moon
Shone o'er the couch which she had press'd at noon,
Soft-lingering o'er some minstrel's love-lorn page,--
Alas, tears are the poet's heritage!

She flung her on that couch, but not for sleep;
No, it was only that the wind might steep
Her fever'd lip in its delicious dew:
Her brow was burning, and aside she threw
Her cap and plume, and, loosen'd from its fold,
Came o'er her neck and face a shower of gold,
A thousand curls. It was a solitude
Made for young hearts in love's first dreaming mood:--
Beneath the garden lay, fill'd with rose-trees
Whose sighings came like passion on the breeze.

Two graceful statues of the Parian stone
So finely shaped, that as the moonlight shone
The breath of life seem'd to their beauty given,
But less the life of earth than that of heaven.
'Twas PSYCHE and her boy-god, so divine
They turn'd the terrace to an idol shrine,
With its white vases and their summer share
Of flowers, like altars raised to that sweet pair.

And there the maiden leant, still in her ear
The whisper dwelt of that young cavalier;
It was no fancy, he had named the name
Of love, and at that thought her cheek grew flame:
It was the first time her young ear had heard
A lover's burning sigh, or silver word;
Her thoughts were all confusion, but most sweet,--
Her heart beat high, but pleasant was its beat.

She murmur'd over many a snatch of song
That might to her own feelings now belong;
She thought upon old histories she had read,
And placed herself in each high heroine's stead,
Then woke her lute,--oh! there is little known
Of music's power till aided by love's own.
And this is happiness: oh! love will last
When all that made it happiness is past,--
When all its hopes are as the glittering toys
Time present offers, time to come destroys,--
When they have been too often crush'd to earth,
For further blindness to their little worth,--
When fond illusions have dropt one by one,
Like pearls from a rich carkanet, till none
Are left upon life's soil'd and naked string,--
And this is all what time will ever bring.

--And that fair girl,--what can the heart foresee
Of her young love, and of its destiny?
There is a white cloud o'er the moon, its form
Is very light, and yet there sleeps the storm;
It is an omen, it may tell the fate
Of love known all too soon, repented all too late.

poem by Letitia Elizabeth Landon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

My Lovers Box

My lovers charms
Are in a box
Beneath my bed
And piece by piece
Ill cherish them
Until the end
Send me an angel to love
I need to feel a little piece of heaven
Send me an angel to love
Im afraid Ill never get to heaven
They burn my hands
Scar my face
And blind my eyes
Ill steal your breath
And throw away
What I despise
Send me an angel to love
I need to feel a little piece of heaven
Send me an angel to love
Im afraid Ill never get to heaven
Between these walls
And darkened halls
Ive done my time
If I should die
Before I wake
Then youll know why
Send me an angel to love
I need to feel a little piece of heaven
Send me an angel to love
Im afraid Ill never get to heaven, piece by piece
Send me an angel to love, piece by piece
I need to feel a little piece of heaven, piece by piece
Send me an angel to love, piece by piece
Im afraid Ill never get to heaven, piece by piece
Piece by piece
Piece by piece, send me an angel
Piece by piece, send me an angel
Piece by piece, send me an angel
Piece by piece, send me an angel
Piece by piece, send me an angel
Piece by piece, send me an angel
Piece by piece, send me an angel
Piece by piece, send me an angel

song performed by by Garbage
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Foolish Heart

I held your hand so fair
And like the morning sun
We cause an ancient rhyme
Oh I will laugh, I will cry
For you
Like the wind that blows
The stars that shine
The cool of night
My ivory moon
The wind that calls
The stars will shine
And I will come
And you will say
This is enough
Of me and my foolish heart
My foolish heart
Oh you will take my hand
And we will wander far away
Oh you will take my hand
And I will follow
Down where the walls come crashing
Down where the proudest fall
Down where those fools come rushing in
To where they fell before
Down where the age has passed me
I will be sure
You will be there and I will belong
To me and my foolish heart
I will run to you
Hey johnny
Where you gonna go
With that gun in your hand...

song performed by by Johnny Hates Jazz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Alaskan Balladry

Krinken was a little child,-
It was summer when he smiled.
Oft the hoary sea and grim
Stretched its white arms out to him,
Calling, 'Sun-child, come to me;
Let me warm my heart with thee!'
But the child heard not the sea,
Calling, yearning evermore
For the summer on the shore.

Krinken on the beach one day
Saw a maiden Nis at play;
On the pebbly beach she played
In the summer Krinken made.
Fair, and very fair, was she,
Just a little child was he.
'Krinken,' said the maiden Nis,
'Let me have a little kiss,
Just a kiss, and go with me
To the summer-lands that be
Down within the silver sea.'

Krinken was a little child-
By the maiden Nis beguiled,
Hand in hand with her went he,
And 'twas summer in the sea.
And the hoary sea and grim
To its bosom folded him-
Clasped and kissed the little form,
And the ocean's heart was warm.

Now the sea calls out no more;
It is winter on the shore,-
Winter where that little child
Made sweet summer when he smiled;
Though 'tis summer on the sea
Where with maiden Nis went he,-
Summer, summer evermore,-
It is winter on the shore,
Winter, winter evermore.
Of the summer on the deep
Come sweet visions in my sleep:

His
fair face lifts from the sea,

His
dear voice calls out to me,-
These my dreams of summer be.

Krinken was a little child,
By the maiden Nis beguiled;
Oft the hoary sea and grim
Reached its longing arms to him,
Crying, 'Sun-child, come to me;
Let me warm my heart with thee!'
But the sea calls out no more;
It is winter on the shore,-
Winter, cold and dark and wild;
Krinken was a little child,-
It was summer when he smiled;
Down he went into the sea,
And the winter bides with me.
Just a little child was he.

poem by Eugene Field
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Heal Softly, Lover, Burn Gently

Heal softly, lover, burn gently,
the moon is full on your windowsill,
and the stars haven't gone down
over the eyes of your bells
or made a fool of your tears
over a jest of ashes. You are
the nightbranch that reaches for me
and I'm the bird that returns
to your cherry chandeliers,
the ripe goblets of your fire-plums,
and the stars in the quince of your eyes.

And there are blackberries in your blood
thorns and vines, simmering eclipses
broken gates and lonely doorways
where I'll always come to shine,
where I'll wait like a ghost beyond death
for the eyelids and bridges
in the breath of your wine.
Eternity isn't time enough
to hold the sea I bear you
nor a mountain robed in snow
nor a valley heeding voices in the depths,
more than a wound and a toy
to the love I feel for you.

Heal softly, lover, hear me, see
in this dreamtime of the flesh,
how the lanterns
of the lady slippers glow with honey
that fill the hives with light,
and the doe sleeps softly
in the silver grass that jewels the water,
and the fireflies outlive the brass
of graver monuments than these
that write our names on the moon in shadows.

I say it in bees and bruises and orchids
in apples and eglantine,
in roads and doors and thresholds,
in skulls and scars and sunspots,
in grapes and scarlet runners,
in the slips of the cucumber seeds,
and the lips of the velvet borage
that kiss and overflow the stone,
you're the harp in the throat of time
the spider weaves
to hear the morning play.

No widow of burnt guitars,
no journal of summer
pressed between the pages
of the nightshift shales,
no blood on a chain,
or raven lost in the rags and ribbons
of her own black sails, not
frost on a garden that fails,
or a lock that's lost it keys,
or a rock that grieves for its plundered ores,
you are the candle and the seal
of all my mystic urgencies,
the gentle thief of my confessions
at the circuits and sessions
of a doomed man's last appeal
to die in the bay of your arms,
a dolphin, a bottle, a snail
that craved its way to you.

Heal softly, lover, turn with the herbs
that follow the sun like clocks
and when your day is done
bathe in the dusk with the birds
that fly through the air like autumn,
and scented by the apricots
and peacock blues that pour out of my heart
like the eyes and inks of a prelude,
a painter, a pitcher of words,
rise from your ancient solitude renewed
and dressed by the wind
in your scarves and veils,
in your nets, your shawls and auroras,
in anklets, chokers, loops and chains
in your nebulae and orbits
and the lunar rain of your earrings,
wait for me as I will wait for you
where the nightjar sings
to celebrate his lover's soft approach
with every quill and feather of his wings.
And no world will deceive us,
no flame expire, no radiance cease,
no fracture mar the jubilant fire
that recast its heart in hell
to love you long and well.

poem by Patrick White
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

En.Citatepedia®.ro