Around the World With Minerva
She would offer us crumpets.
Minerva Pinkston...
Once part of a jet set!
Holding up both hands to announce...
Her painted nails were wet!
She rambled on as if we were being tested,
To remember her travels to places...
And names of those of power she met!
When we first arrived at Minerva's front door!
Many thought she wore a mask...
Or her make up was done very poor!
Her long eyelashes
Made her top eyelids droop!
She had too much lipstick on her lips...
She could kiss lips consistently,
Of the bears who mooned her
Or a mesmerized passing moose.
With an instant wish to fly away...
Faster than a chased goose.
Minerva posed in the kitchen
And each of her seven rooms.
We made the mistake of stopping
In her wine cellar.
And she consumed more wine
We found ourselves outside...
To escape and leave wine fumes behind!
Getting fresh air was on our minds!
After we observed Minerva...
Minerva had the nerve,
To announce she had taken us on a tour.
Around the world with her!
As we stared and chatted on the stairs,
Of Minerva's veranda.
And if we had been first
Introduced to that moose...
Many of us sitting,
And staring at Minerva,
Would not try to hide...
The laughter slipping giggles,
That was begging,
To be freed
And let loose!
We closed our eyes and held our breath
When she would pass switching her fat...
Caboose!
Minerva Pinkston did not notice this at all...
As she flaunted with flair,
As if we weren't guest...
But photographers to catch,
Every nuance she managed
As she posed and patted...
Her sprayed bouffant hair!
Minerva didn't care.
We were there for Minvera...
And of this Minerva was aware!
She would offer us crumpets.
Minerva Pinkston...
Once part of a jet set!
Holding up both hands to announce...
Her painted nails were wet!
And when we were ready,
To leave Minerva's place...
Her smiling face
Began to crack like plaster.
And all there couldn't wait,
To vacate before tasting
Minerva's surprising and 'award' winning
Cake she said she baked!
Some were rude...
When they ran through the door!
And jumped like olympians,
Over the front gate!
And the screams of laughter heard...
Stopped Minerva's chirping to her caged birds!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
The Horse And The Olive: Or, War And Peace
With Moral Tale let Ancient Wisdom move,
Which thus I sing to make the Moderns wise:
Strong Neptune once with sage Minerva strove,
And rising Athens was the Victor's Prize.
By Neptune, Plutus (Guardian Pow'r of Gain),
By Great Minerva, Bright Apollo stood:
But Jove superior bad the Side obtain
Which best contriv'd to do the Nation Good.
Then Neptune striking, from the parted Ground
The Warlike Horse came pawing on the Plain,
And as it toss'd its Mane, and pranc'd around,
By this, he cries, I'll make the People Reign.
The Goddess smiling gently bow'd the Spear,
And, rather thus they shall be bless'd, she said;
Then upwards shooting in the Vernal Air
With loaded Boughs the fruitful Olive spread.
Jove saw what Gifts the Rival Pow'rs design'd,
And took th' impartial Scales, resolv'd to show,
If greater Bliss in Warlike Pomp we find,
Or in the Calm which Peaceful Times bestow.
On Neptune's part he plac'd Victorious Days,
Gay Trophies won, and Fame extending wide:
But Plenty, Safety, Science, Arts, and Ease,
Minerva's Scale with greater Weight supply'd.
Fierce War devours whom gentle Peace wou'd save,
Sweet Peace restores what angry War destroys,
War made for Peace with that rewards the Brave,
While Peace its Pleasures from it self enjoys.
Hence vanquish'd Neptune to the Sea withdrew,
Hence wise Minerva rul'd Athenian Lands,
Her Athens hence in Arts and Honour grew,
And still her Olives deck pacifick Hands.
From Fables thus disclos'd, a Monarch's Mind
May form just Rules to chuse the Truly-Great:
And Subjects weary'd with Distresses find
Whose kind Endeavours most befriend the State.
Ev'n Britain here may learn to place her Love,
If Cities won her Kingdoms Wealth have cost,
If Anna's Thoughts the patriot-souls approve
Whose Cares restore that Wealth the Wars had lost.
But if we ask the Moral to disclose
Whom best europa's Patroness it calls,
Great ANNA's Title no Exception knows,
And unapply'd in this the Fable falls.
With Her no Neptune or Minerva vyes;
Whene'er she pleas'd her Troops to Conquest flew,
Whene'er she pleases Peaceful Times arise:
She gave the Horse, and gives the Olive too.
poem by Thomas Parnell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
For an actress to be a success, she must have the face of a Venus, the brains of a Minerva, the grace of Terpsichore, the memory of a MaCaulay, the figure of Juno, and the hide of a rhinoceros.
quote by Ethel Barrymore
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
For an actress to be a success, she must have the face of Venus, the brains of a Minerva, the grace of Terpsichore, the memory of a Macaulay, the figure of Juno, and the hide of a rhinoceros.
quote by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Horse & Olive Or Warr & Peace
With Moral tale let Ancient wisdome move
Which thus I sing to make ye moderns wise
Strong Neptune once with sage Minerva strove
And rising Athens was the Victors prize
By Neptune Plutus guardian Powr of gain
By great Minerva Bright Apollo stood
But Jove superiour Bad ye side obtain
Which best contrivd to do ye nation good
Then Neptune striking from the parted ground
The Warlike horse came pawing on ye plain
And as it tossd its main & prancd around
By this he crys Ile make the people reign
The Goddess smiling gently bowd ye spear
And rather thus they shall be blessd she said
Then upwards shooting in ye Vernal air
With loaded boughs ye fruitfull Olive spread
Jove saw what gifts ye rival Powrs designd
Then took th' impartial scales resolvd to show
If greater bliss in warlike pomp we find
Or in ye calm which peacefull times bestow
On Neptunes part he placd victorious days
Gay trophys won & fame extending wide
But plenty safety science arts & ease
Minerva's scale with greater weight supplyd
Fierce warr devours whom gentle Peace woud save
Sweet peace restores wt angry warr destroys
Warr made for peace with that rewards ye brave
While Peace its pleasures from it self enjoys
Hence Vanquishd Neptune to ye Sea withdrew
Hence Wise Minerva ruld Athenian lands
Her Athens hence in arts & honour grew
And still her Olives deck pacifick hands
From fables thus disclosd a Monarchs mind
May form Just rules to chuse ye truly great
And subjects wearyd with distresses find
Whose kind endeavours most befriend a state
Evn Britain here may learn to place her love
If Citys won her kingdomes wealth have cost
If Anna's thoughts ye Patriot soules approve
Whose cares restore yt wealth ye wars had lost
But if we ask ye Moral to disclose
Whom best Europa's patroness it calls
Great Anna's title no exception knows
And unapplyd in this ye fable falls
With her no Neptune or Minerva vyes
When ere she pleasd her troops to conquest flew
When ere she pleases peaceful times arise
She gave the horse & gives ye Olive too.
poem by Thomas Parnell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The day will come when the mystical generation of Jesus by the Supreme Being in the womb of a virgin, will be classed with the fable of the generation of Minerva in the brain of Jupiter.
quote by Thomas Jefferson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
On Seeing a Bust of Mrs. Montague
Had this fair figure, which this frame displays,
Adorn'd in Roman time the brightest days,
In every dome, in every sacred place,
Her statue would have breathed an added grace,
And on its basis would have been enroll'd,
'This is Minerva, cast in Virtue's mould.'
poem by Samuel Johnson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Workman To The Gods
Once Phidias stood, with hammer in his hand,
Carving Minerva from the breathing stone,
Tracing with love the winding of a hair,
A single hair upon her head, whereon
A youth of Athens cried, “O Phidias,
Why do you dally on a hidden hair?
When she is lifted to the lofty front
Of the Parthenon, no human eye will see.”
And Phidias thundered on him: “Silence, slave:
Men will not see, but the Immortals will!”
poem by Edwin Markham
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Mrs. Meyers
He protested all his life long
The newspapers lied about him villainously;
That he was not at fault for Minerva's fall,
But only tried to help her.
Poor soul so sunk in sin he could not see
That even trying to help her, as he called it,
He had broken the law human and divine.
Passers by, an ancient admonition to you:
If your ways would be ways of pleasantness,
And all your pathways peace,
Love God and keep his commandments.
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Elegy II. On The Death Of The University Beadle At Cambridge (Translated From Milton)
Thee, whose refulgent staff and summons clear,
Minerva's flock longtime was wont t'obey,
Although thyself an herald, famous here,
The last of heralds, Death, has snatch'd away.
He calls on all alike, nor even deigns
To spare the office that himself sustains.
Thy locks were whiter than the plumes display'd
By Leda's paramour in ancient time,
But thou wast worthy ne'er to have decay'd,
Or, Aeson-like, to know a second prime,
Worthy for whom some Goddess should have won
New life, oft kneeling to Apollo's son.
Commission'd to convene with hasty call
The gowned tribes, how graceful wouldst thou stand!
So stood Cyllenius erst in Priam's hall,
Wing-footed messenger of Jove's command,
And so, Eurybates when he address'd
To Peleus' son Atrides' proud behest.
Dread Queen of sepulchres! whose rig'rous laws
And watchful eyes, run through the realms below,
Oh, oft too adverse to Minerva's cause,
Too often to the Muse not less a foe,
Chose meaner marks, and with more equal aim
Pierce useless drones, earth's burthen and its shame!
Flow, therefore, tears for Him from ev'ry eye,
All ye disciples of the Muses, weep!
Assembling, all, in robes of sable dye,
Around his bier, lament his endless sleep,
And let complaining Elegy rehearse
In every School her sweetest saddest verse.
poem by William Cowper
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
On Pallas Bathing, From A Hymn Of Callimachus
Nor oils of balmy scene produce,
Nor mirror for Minerva's use,
Ye nymphs who lave her; she, array'd
In genuine beauty, scorns their aid.
Not even when they left the skies,
To seek on Ida's head the prize
From Paris' hand, did Juno deign,
Or Pallas in the crystal plain
Of Simois' stream her locks to trace,
Or in the mirror's polished face,
Though Venus oft with anxious care
Adjusted twice a single hair.
poem by William Cowper
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Stars
How countlessly they congregate
O'er our tumultuous snow,
Which flows in shapes as tall as trees
When wintry winds do blow!--
As if with keenness for our fate,
Our faltering few steps on
To white rest, and a place of rest
Invisible at dawn,--
And yet with neither love nor hate,
Those stars like some snow-white
Minerva's snow-white marble eyes
Without the gift of sight.
poem by Robert Frost
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Doctor Meyers
No other man, unless it was Doc Hill,
Did more for people in this town than l.
And all the weak, the halt, the improvident
And those who could not pay flocked to me.
I was good-hearted, easy Doctor Meyers.
I was healthy, happy, in comfortable fortune,
Blest with a congenial mate, my children raised,
All wedded, doing well in the world.
And then one night, Minerva, the poetess,
Came to me in her trouble, crying.
I tried to help her out -- she died --
They indicted me, the newspapers disgraced me,
My wife perished of a broken heart.
And pneumonia finished me.
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Godlike
In one great man we view with odds
A parallel to all the gods.
Great Jove, that shook heaven with his brow,
Could never match his princely bow.
In him a Bacchus we behold:
Like Bacchus, too, he ne'er grows old.
Like Phoebus next, a flaming lover;
And then he's Mercury-all over.
A Vulcan, for domestic strife,
He lamely lives without his wife.
And sure-unless our wits be dull-
Minerva-like, when moon was full,
He issued from paternal skull.
R. et R.
poem by Charles Lamb
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sonnet XXXIX: Some, When in Rhyme
Some, when in rhyme they of their loves do tell,
With flames and lightnings their exordiums paint;
Some call on Heav'n, some invocate on Hell,
And Fates and Furies with their woes acquaint.
Elysium is too high a seat for me;
I will not come in Styx or Phlegethon;
The thrice-three Muses but too wanton be;
Like they that lust, I care not; I will none.
Spiteful Erinnys frights me with her looks;
My manhood dares not with foul Ate mell;
I quake to look on Hecate's charming books;
I still fear bugbears in Apollo's cell.
I pass not for Minerva nor Astraea;
Only I call on my divine Idea.
poem by Michael Drayton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
To The Right Honourable Lady Charlotte Gordon
Why, Lady, wilt thou bind thy lovely brow
With the dread semblance of that warlike helm,
That nodding plume, and wreathe of various glow,
That graced the chiefs of Scotia's ancient realm?
Thou know'st that virtue is of power the source,
And all her magic to thy eyes is given;
We own their empire, while we feel their force,
Beaming with the benignity of heaven.
The plumy helmet, and the martial mien,
Might dignify Minerva's awful charms;
But more resistless far th' Idalian queen -
Smiles, graces, gentleness, her only arms.
poem by James Beattie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Licia Sonnets 48
I saw, sweet Licia, when the spider ran
Within your house to weave a worthless web,
You present were and feared her with your fan,
So that amazéd speedily she fled.
She in your house such sweet perfumes did smell,
And heard the Muses with their notes refined,
Thus filled with envy, could no longer dwell,
But straight returned and at your house repined.
Then tell me, spider, why of late I saw
Thee lose thy poison, and thy bowels gone;
Did these enchant and keep thy limbs in awe,
And made thy forces to be small or none?
No, no, thou didst by chance my Licia see,
Who for her look Minerva seemed to thee
poem by Giles Fletcher The Elder
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Birthday Present
```Say what, to please you, you would have me be.''
Then listen, dear!
I fain would have you very fair to see,
And sweet to hear.
`You should have Aphrodite's form and face,
With Dian's tread;
And something of Minerva's lofty grace
Should crown your head.
`Summer should wander in your voice, and Spring
Gleam in your gaze,
And pure thoughts ripen in your heart that bring
Calm Autumn days.
`Yours should be winning ways that make Love live,
And ne'er grow old,
With ever something yet more sweet to give,
Which you withhold.
`You should have generous hopes that can beguile
Life's doubts and fears,
And, ever waiting on your April smile,
The gift of tears.
`You should be close to us as earth and sea,
And yet as far
As Heaven itself. In sooth, I'd have you be
Just what you are.'
poem by Alfred Austin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Attribute of Venus
Yes; Fulvia is like Venus fair,
Has all her bloom, and shape, and air;
But still, to perfect every grace,
She wants-the smile upon her face.
The crown majestic Juno wore;
And Cynthia's brow the crescent bore;
An helmet mark'd Minerva's mien;
But smiles distinguish'd Beauty's queen.
Her train was form'd of Smiles and Loves;
Her chariot drawn by gentlest doves;
And from her zone, the nymph may find
'Tis Beauty's province to be kind.
Then smile, my Fair! and all, whose aim
Aspires to paint the Cyprian dame,
Or bid her breathe in living stone,
Shall take their forms from you alone.
poem by William Shenstone
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Minerva Jones
I am Minerva, the village poetess,
Hooted at, jeered at by the Yahoos of the street
For my heavy body, cock-eye, and rolling walk,
And all the more when "Butch" Weldy
Captured me after a brutal hunt.
He left me to my fate with Doctor Meyers;
And I sank into death, growing numb from the feet up,
Like one stepping deeper and deeper into a stream of ice.
Will some one go to the village newspaper,
And gather into a book the verses I wrote? --
I thirsted so for love!
I hungered so for life!
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Courage
There is a courage, a majestic thing
That springs forth from the brow of pain, full-grown,
Minerva-like, and dares all dangers known,
And all the threatening future yet may bring;
Crowned with the helmet of great suffering;
Serene with that grand strength by martyrs shown,
When at the stake they die and make no moan,
And even as the flames leap up are heard to sing:
A courage so sublime and unafraid,
It wears its sorrows like a coat of mail;
And Fate, the archer, passes by dismayed,
Knowing his best barbed arrows needs must fail
To pierce a soul so armored and arrayed
That Death himself might look on it and quail.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!