Little Paul
CHEERFUL voices by the sea-side
Echoed through the summer air,
Happy children, fresh and rosy,
Sang and sported freely there,
Often turning friendly glances,
Where, neglectful of them all,
On his bed among the gray rocks,
Mused the pale child, little Paul.
For he never joined their pastimes,
Never danced upon the sand,
Only smiled upon them kindly,
Only waved his wasted hand.
Many a treasured gift they bore him,
Best beloved among them all.
Many a childish heart grieved sadly,
Thinking of poor little Paul.
But while Florence was beside him,
While her face above him bent,
While her dear voice sounded near him,
He was happy and content;
Watching ever the great billows,
Listening to their ceaseless fall,
For they brought a pleasant music
To the ear of little Paul.
'Sister Floy,' the pale child whispered,
'What is that the blue waves say?
What strange message are they bringing
From that shore so far away?
Who is dwelling in that country
Whence a low voice seems to call
Softly, through the dash of waters,
'Come away, my little Paul'?'
But sad Florence could not answer,
Though her dim eyes tenderly
Watched the wistful face, that ever
Gazed across the restless sea,
While the sunshine like a blessing
On his bright hair seemed to fall,
And the winds grew more caressing,
As they kissed frail little Paul.
Ere long, paler and more wasted,
On another bed he lay,
Where the city's din and discord
Echoed round him day by day;
While the voice that to his spirit
By the sea-side seemed to call,
Sounded with its tender music
Very near to little Paul.
As the deep tones of the ocean
Linger in the frailest shell,
So the lonely sea-side musings
In his memory seemed to dwell.
And he talked of golden waters
Rippling on his chamber wall,
While their melody in fancy
Cheered the heart of little Paul.
Clinging fast to faithful Florence,
Murmuring faintly night and day,
Of the swift and darksome river
Bearing him so far away,
Toward a shore whose blessed sunshine
Seemed most radiantly to fall
On a beautiful mild spirit,
Waiting there for little Paul.
So the tide of life ebbed slowly,
Till the last wave died away,
And nothing but the fragile wreck
On the sister's bosom lay.
And from out death's solemn waters,
Lifted high above them all,
In her arms the spirit mother
Bore the soul of little Paul.
poem by Louisa May Alcott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
In The British Museum
'What do you see in that time-touched stone,
When nothing is there
But ashen blankness, although you give it
A rigid stare?
'You look not quite as if you saw,
But as if you heard,
Parting your lips, and treading softly
As mouse or bird.
'It is only the base of a pillar, they'll tell you,
That came to us
From a far old hill men used to name
Areopagus.'
- 'I know no art, and I only view
A stone from a wall,
But I am thinking that stone has echoed
The voice of Paul,
'Paul as he stood and preached beside it
Facing the crowd,
A small gaunt figure with wasted features,
Calling out loud
'Words that in all their intimate accents
Pattered upon
That marble front, and were far reflected,
And then were gone.
'I'm a labouring man, and know but little,
Or nothing at all;
But I can't help thinking that stone once echoed
The voice of Paul.'
poem by Thomas Hardy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Paul Bunyan
He rode through the woods on a big blue ox,
He had fists as hard as choppin' blocks,
Five hundred pounds and nine feet tall...that's Paul.
Talk about workin', when he swung his axe
You could hear it ring for a mile and a half.
Then he'd yell'Timber!' and down she'd fall...for Paul.
Talk about drinkin', that man's so mean
That he'd never drink nothin' but kerosene,
And a five-gallon can is a little bit small...for Paul.
Talk about tough, well he once had a fight
With a thunderstorm on a cold dark night.
I ain't sayin' who won,
But it don't storm at all...round here...thanks to Paul.
He was ninety years old when he said with a sigh,
'I think I'm gonna lay right down and die
'Cause sunshine and sorrow, I've seen it all...says Paul.
He says, 'There ain't no man alive can kill me,
Ain't no woman 'round can thrill me,
And I think heaven just mught be a ball'...says Paul.
So he died...can we cried.
It took eighteen men just to bust the ground,
It took twenty-four more just to lower him down.
And we covered him up and we figured that was all...for Paul.
But late one night the trees started shakin',
The dogs started howlin' and the earth started quakin',
And out of the ground with a 'Hi, y'all'...comes Paul!
He shook the dirt from off his clothes,
He scratched his butt and wiped his nose.
'Y'kknow, bein' dead wasn't no fun at all'...says Paul.
He says, 'Up in heaven they got harps on their knees,
They got clouds and wings but they got no trees.
I don't think that's much of a heaven at all'...says Paul.
So he jumps on his ox with a fare-thee-well,
He says, 'I'll find out if there's trees in hell.'
And he rode away, and that was all...we ever seen...of Paul.
But the next time you hear a 'Timber!' yell
That sounds like it's comin' from the pits of hell,
Then a weird and devilish ghostly wail
Like somebody's choppin' on the devil's tail,
Then a shout, a call, a crash, a fall--
That ain't no mortal man at all...that's Paul!
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Guilo
Yes, yes! I love thee, Guilo; thee alone.
Why dost thou sigh, and wear that face of sorrow?
The sunshine is to-day's, although it shone
On yesterday, and may shine on to-morrow.
I love but thee, my Guilo! be content;
The greediest heart can claim but present pleasure.
The future is thy God's. The past is spent.
To-day is thine; clasp close the precious treasure.
See how I love thee, Guilo! Lips and eyes
Could never under thy fond gaze dissemble.
I could not feign these passion-laden sighs;
Deceiving thee, my pulses would not tremble.
'So I loved Romney.' Hush, thou foolish one—
I should forget him wholly wouldst thou let me;
Or but remember that his day was done
From that supremest hour when first I met thee.
'And Paul?' Well, what of Paul? Paul had blue eyes,
And Romney gray, and thine are darkly tender!
One finds fresh feelings under change of skies—
A new horizon brings a newer splendor.
As I love thee
I never loved before;
Believe me, Guilo, for I speak most truly.
What though to Romney and to Paul I swore
The self-same words; my heart now worships newly.
We never feel the same emotion twice:
No two ships ever ploughed the self-same billow;
The waters change with every fall and rise;
So, Guilo, go contented to thy pillow.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
God's Will Manifests In Paul
We believe in God.
God has definite
opinions about
current world events
even when we are gone
others will still voice
new similar concerns.
What talent we have
is God's unseen will
sometimes explicit God
chooses Paul for example
had no freedom of choice
his passion was exact direct
interaction of God's will
changed his life purpose
Paul became an instrument
in service to God's will
location timing was God's
rest of Paul's ministry
life belonged to God
Paul had God's words
purpose to preach God's
miracles to perform
14 books in Bible to write
all was God's will.
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Little Paul
Halloween Costume party at Famous Daves,
everyone in costume gets up on the stage.
That’s where I did meet Little Paul,
he is the smallest of them all.
He is wearing a bat outfit with wings,
he is cute and stands next to me.
Paul and me become the best of friends for awhile,
he went back to Iowa to be with his child.
But during that brief time we were friends,
we did some interesting things.
Paul became a character in my book,
he was Razel’s bat, he had the look.
I filmed him in the tall trees,
He had an evil smile with bright white teeth.
But really Paul was really sweet,
He would always have something for me to eat.
See he was a chef at a restaurant,
He worked all hours, he worked a lot,
so he would have a drink - like a shot.
He would get so toasted, and fall about his place,
I was worried for him, I didn’t want him to hit his face.
Then I told him to take a break one day,
He would rest at my apartment where he would stay.
I would stay at his apartment in Minneapolis city,
While Paul made my apartment look so pretty.
He rearranged my watercolors paintings of Melodie,
gave each one a description that was very funny.
One night he gave me some Indian artwork,
it was from the alley where he did lurk.
I use the frame of painting now for my 3 x 5,
I look at this painting, and know the frame is inside.
Little Paul gave me his grandmother’s precious lamp,
I make sure it’s safe, I can’t give it back.
Thanks Paul for the great memories,
I hope you are doing great and are in peace.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on August 27,2011
www.purplepoems.com www.christinasunrise.com
www.puppetpoems.com
poem by Christina Sunrise
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
God's Purpose Given Will
What talent thy have is
God's purpose given will
sometimes forecast God
chooses Paul prime example
had no freedom no choice
his passion inherited direct
interaction by God's will
Christ struck Paul blind changed
Paul’s devoted life focus.
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Exorcists
Then the apostle wonders wrought,
And healed the sick, in Jesus' name;
The sons of Sceva vainly thought
That they had pow'r to do the fame.
On one possessed they tried their art,
And naming Jesus preached by Paul,
They charged the spirit to depart
Expecting he'd obey their call.
The spirit answered, with a mock,
Jesus I know; and Paul I know;
I must have gone if Paul had spoke;
But who are ye that bid me go?
With fury then the man he filled,
Who on the poor pretenders flew;
Naked and wounded, almost killed,
They fled in all the peoples' view.
Jesus! that name, pronounced by faith,
Is full of wonder-working pow'r;
It conquers Satan, sin and death,
And cheers in trouble's darkest hour.
But they, who are not born again,
Know nothing of it but the sound;
They do but take his name in vain
When most their zeal and pains abound.
Satan their vain attempts derides,
Whether they talk, or pray, or preach;
Long as the love of sin abides,
His pow'r is safe beyond their reach.
But you, believers, may rejoice,
Satan well knows your mighty Friend;
He trembles at your Saviour's voice,
And owns he cannot gain his end.
poem by John Newton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Paul Robeson
Paul Robeson was the first great negro singer
Though through his life he knew his share of woe
In his Homeland he was treated as an outcast
But in death his legend seem to grow and grow.
Paul Robeson spoke of freedom peace and justice
And he campaigned for the black Peoples rights
But for his beliefs he was made to suffer
In a country that is governed by whites.
For his membership of the communist party
Paul Robeson an unfair price had to pay
His passport from him it was confiscated
By the authorities in the U.S.A.
Even shunned by some influential blacks in his home Country
And his basic human rights to him denied
But in Russia he was feted as a hero
And Paul Robeson he was revered far and wide.
For freedom, human rights and peace and justice
Paul Robeson so much of himself he gave
And the way he had been treated in his Homeland
Must have had Abe Lincoln turning in his grave
Paul Robeson he will always be remembered
As one of the few who sacrificed their fame
In the cause of human rights and peace and justice
And his lives on as an immortal name.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Strength in weakness
Paul’s thorn in the flesh
When I am weak,
Then I am strong
Strength in weakness
A typical Pauline sophism?
A typical Pauline syllogism?
A typical Pauline casuistry?
A typical Pauline homily.
Paul’s thorn in the flesh
When I am weak,
Then I am strong
Strength in weakness
Paul was disabled, you see
Was he blind? You ask
Was he lame? You ask
Was it a speech impediment?
Paul’s thorn in the flesh
When I am weak,
Then I am strong
Strength in weakness
Oh! He was strong in spirit
But weak in appearance
He can’t be our leader, they said
He’s an embarrassment
Paul’s thorn in the flesh
When I am weak,
Then I am strong
Strength in weakness
Paul said: “Yes, I am weak
But God’s strength is made perfect
In my weakness not in my strength
So up the weak and down the strong! (my words!)
Paul’s thorn in the flesh
When I am weak,
Then I am strong
Strength in weakness
We are all weak in some way
Weak in our words
Weak in our walk
Weak in our talk
Paul’s thorn in the flesh
When I am weak,
Then I am strong
Strength in weakness
But for God, weak means strong
Kingdom values, Kingdom virtues
Jesus’ values, Jesus’ virtues
My values? my virtues?
Paul’s thorn in the flesh
When I am weak,
Then I am strong
Strength in weakness
So the lamb not the lion
The humble not the haughty
The lowly not the lofty
The penitent not the proud.
Paul’s thorn in the flesh
When I am weak,
Then I am strong
Strength in weakness
Let’s value then the weak
And remember they are strong.
If I am proud, then I am wrong
If I am conceited, then I am wrong
Paul’s thorn in the flesh
When I am weak,
Then I am strong
Strength in weakness
Let’s fill the Church then with the weak
Push in the wheelchairs
Roll in the scooters
Help the handicapped walk in.
Paul’s thorn in the flesh
When I am weak,
Then I am strong
Strength in weakness
“At even, ere the sun was set
The sick oh Lord, around thee lay
Oh, in what divers pains they met
Oh with what joy they went away
And none oh Lord, have perfect rest
For none are wholly free from sin;
For they who fain would serve thee best
Are conscious most of sin within.
Thy touch has still its ancient power
No word from thee can fruitless fall
Hear in this solemn hour we pray
And in thy mercy heal us all.”
Paul’s thorn in the flesh
For when I am weak,
Then I am strong
Strength in weakness.
poem by James Hart
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Clover-Blossom
In a quiet, pleasant meadow,
Beneath a summer sky,
Where green old trees their branches waved,
And winds went singing by;
Where a little brook went rippling
So musically low,
And passing clouds cast shadows
On the waving grass below;
Where low, sweet notes of brooding birds
Stole out on the fragrant air,
And golden sunlight shone undimmed
On all most fresh and fair;--
There bloomed a lovely sisterhood
Of happy little flowers,
Together in this pleasant home,
Through quiet summer hours.
No rude hand came to gather them,
No chilling winds to blight;
Warm sunbeams smiled on them by day,
And soft dews fell at night.
So here, along the brook-side,
Beneath the green old trees,
The flowers dwelt among their friends,
The sunbeams and the breeze.
One morning, as the flowers awoke,
Fragrant, and fresh, and fair,
A little worm came creeping by,
And begged a shelter there.
'Ah! pity and love me,' sighed the worm,
'I am lonely, poor, and weak;
A little spot for a resting-place,
Dear flowers, is all I seek.
I am not fair, and have dwelt unloved
By butterfly, bird, and bee.
They little knew that in this dark form
Lay the beauty they yet may see.
Then let me lie in the deep green moss,
And weave my little tomb,
And sleep my long, unbroken sleep
Till Spring's first flowers come.
Then will I come in a fairer dress,
And your gentle care repay
By the grateful love of the humble worm;
Kind flowers, O let me stay!'
But the wild rose showed her little thorns,
While her soft face glowed with pride;
The violet hid beneath the drooping ferns,
And the daisy turned aside.
Little Houstonia scornfully laughed,
As she danced on her slender stem;
While the cowslip bent to the rippling waves,
And whispered the tale to them.
A blue-eyed grass looked down on the worm,
As it silently turned away,
And cried, 'Thou wilt harm our delicate leaves,
And therefore thou canst not stay.'
Then a sweet, soft voice, called out from far,
'Come hither, poor worm, to me;
The sun lies warm in this quiet spot,
And I'll share my home with thee.'
The wondering flowers looked up to see
Who had offered the worm a home:
'T was a clover-blossom, whose fluttering leaves
Seemed beckoning him to come;
It dwelt in a sunny little nook,
Where cool winds rustled by,
And murmuring bees and butterflies came,
On the flower's breast to lie.
Down through the leaves the sunlight stole,
And seemed to linger there,
As if it loved to brighten the home
Of one so sweet and fair.
Its rosy face smiled kindly down,
As the friendless worm drew near;
And its low voice, softly whispering, said
'Poor thing, thou art welcome here;
Close at my side, in the soft green moss,
Thou wilt find a quiet bed,
Where thou canst softly sleep till Spring,
With my leaves above thee spread.
I pity and love thee, friendless worm,
Though thou art not graceful or fair;
For many a dark, unlovely form,
Hath a kind heart dwelling there;
No more o'er the green and pleasant earth,
Lonely and poor, shalt thou roam,
For a loving friend hast thou found in me,
And rest in my little home.'
Then, deep in its quiet mossy bed,
Sheltered from sun and shower,
The grateful worm spun its winter tomb,
In the shadow of the flower.
And Clover guarded well its rest,
Till Autumn's leaves were sere,
Till all her sister flowers were gone,
And her winter sleep drew near.
Then her withered leaves were softly spread
O'er the sleeping worm below,
Ere the faithful little flower lay
Beneath the winter snow.
Spring came again, and the flowers rose
From their quiet winter graves,
And gayly danced on their slender stems,
And sang with the rippling waves.
Softly the warm winds kissed their cheeks;
Brightly the sunbeams fell,
As, one by one, they came again
In their summer homes to dwell.
And little Clover bloomed once more,
Rosy, and sweet, and fair,
And patiently watched by the mossy bed,
For the worm still slumbered there.
Then her sister flowers scornfully cried,
As they waved in the summer air,
'The ugly worm was friendless and poor;
Little Clover, why shouldst thou care?
Then watch no more, nor dwell alone,
Away from thy sister flowers;
Come, dance and feast, and spend with us
These pleasant summer hours.
We pity thee, foolish little flower,
To trust what the false worm said;
He will not come in a fairer dress,
For he lies in the green moss dead.'
But little Clover still watched on,
Alone in her sunny home;
She did not doubt the poor worm's truth,
And trusted he would come.
At last the small cell opened wide,
And a glittering butterfly,
From out the moss, on golden wings,
Soared up to the sunny sky.
Then the wondering flowers cried aloud,
'Clover, thy watch was vain;
He only sought a shelter here,
And never will come again.'
And the unkind flowers danced for joy,
When they saw him thus depart;
For the love of a beautiful butterfly
Is dear to a flower's heart.
They feared he would stay in Clover's home,
And her tender care repay;
So they danced for joy, when at last he rose
And silently flew away.
Then little Clover bowed her head,
While her soft tears fell like dew;
For her gentle heart was grieved, to find
That her sisters' words were true,
And the insect she had watched so long
When helpless, poor, and lone,
Thankless for all her faithful care,
On his golden wings had flown.
But as she drooped, in silent grief,
She heard little Daisy cry,
'O sisters, look! I see him now,
Afar in the sunny sky;
He is floating back from Cloud-Land now,
Borne by the fragrant air.
Spread wide your leaves, that he may choose
The flower he deems most fair.'
Then the wild rose glowed with a deeper blush,
As she proudly waved on her stem;
The Cowslip bent to the clear blue waves,
And made her mirror of them.
Little Houstonia merrily danced,
And spread her white leaves wide;
While Daisy whispered her joy and hope,
As she stood by her gay friends' side.
Violet peeped from the tall green ferns,
And lifted her soft blue eye
To watch the glittering form, that shone
Afar in the summer sky.
They thought no more of the ugly worm,
Who once had wakened their scorn;
But looked and longed for the butterfly now,
As the soft wind bore him on.
Nearer and nearer the bright form came,
And fairer the blossoms grew;
Each welcomed him, in her sweetest tones;
Each offered her honey and dew.
But in vain did they beckon, and smile, and call,
And wider their leaves unclose;
The glittering form still floated on,
By Violet, Daisy, and Rose.
Lightly it flew to the pleasant home
Of the flower most truly fair,
On Clover's breast he softly lit,
And folded his bright wings there.
'Dear flower,' the butterfly whispered low,
'Long hast thou waited for me;
Now I am come, and my grateful love
Shall brighten thy home for thee;
Thou hast loved and cared for me, when alone,
Hast watched o'er me long and well;
And now will I strive to show the thanks
The poor worm could not tell.
Sunbeam and breeze shall come to thee,
And the coolest dews that fall;
Whate'er a flower can wish is thine,
For thou art worthy all.
And the home thou shared with the friendless worm
The butterfly's home shall be;
And thou shalt find, dear, faithful flower,
A loving friend in me.'
Then, through the long, bright summer hours
Through sunshine and through shower,
Together in their happy home
Dwelt butterfly and flower.
poem by Louisa May Alcott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
It has been said that God's gift is also indescribable because of the grace by which it is given. God, who is rich in mercy, gave the world the gift of His dear Son while we were at enmity with Him. Paul says 'But God commendeth His love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us' (Rom. 58). Therefore, in Him we are freely given all things redemption, forgiveness of sins, righteousness, peace, hope, wisdom and knowledge.
quote by Paul Sadler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
What Power On Earth Changes Saul?
What miracle of transformation
what power on earth in heaven changes
Saul into amazing Apostle Paul?
Saul of Tarsus changed his name, became widely known,
as Apostle Paul, wrote about 25% of New Testament;
devoted next 32 years, witnessing Jesus as the Messiah.
Yes Apostle Paul was martyred;
for his faith in Jesus as Messiah
a man chosen personally by God;
Paul's written words;
are the testimony of a man
that violently persecuted;
as many early Christians
as he could arrest seize execute;
then became a Christian
due to a supernatural spiritual experience;
God assigns Saul a unique transformation Acts 22: 6-11
as Apostle Paul he will preach to gentiles.
Split imaging from the poem ‘Transformation Inquisition Saul Into Paul Of Tarsus'.
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Silvery Rain
(hank marvin)
Butterflies danced on invisible strings
Showing wings they borrowed from a rainbow
And a blackbird on high sang a praise to the sky
While a light aeroplane sprayed the fields
With a silvery rain
Furry backed bees with a tireless drone
Never moan, theyre happy to be working
And a grasshopper green could be heard but not seen
While a light aeroplane sprayed the fields
With a silvery rain
Fly away, peter, fly away, paul
Before theres nothing left to fly at all
Take to the sky, higher than high
Before the silvery rain begins to fall
Nothing moves now but the swaying ripe corn
Not a dawn is greeted with a birds song
Theres a feather or two from a bird that once flew
Before a light aeroplane sprayed the fields
With a silvery rain
Fly away, peter, fly away, paul
Before theres nothing left to fly at all
Take to the sky, higher than high
Before the silvery rain begins to fall
Fly away, peter, fly away, paul
Before theres nothing left to fly at all
Take to the sky, higher than high
Before the silvery rain begins to fall
song performed by by Olivia Newton-John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Christian churches were offered two things: the spirit of Jesus and the idiotic morality of Paul, and they rejected the higher inspiration... Following Paul, we have turned the goodness of love into a fiend and degraded the crowning impulse of our being into a capital sin.
quote by Frank Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
God’s Righteousness
God’s Righteousness was revealed, when to The Church, Paul appealed,
As he proclaimed Truth to everyone, who was saved by God’s Own Son,
Teaching every one of those, who believed in Christ, who died and rose,
Who would grant all believers in Christ, eternal hope and a righteous life.
Through Paul’s letter, Spirit Inspired, he stated righteousness is required,
From everybody on this earthly sod, who desires to please Eternal God,
As no one is righteous, no not one, except for God and His Eternal Son,
And without Him on the present path, we’ll only see His Righteous Wrath.
But, Righteousness is provided for us, when in Christ we place our trust,
Imputed to believers as they believe, when God’s Truth they truly receive,
The Righteousness of Jesus Christ, provided to all through His Sacrifice,
So we can stand before our Creator, in The Righteousness of our Savior.
God’s Righteousness is explained, from the knowledge Paul had gained,
For he was a well taught Pharisee, and he had meet The Lord of Eternity,
As Paul explains how we are justified, by Christ, who for all sinners died.
And He purifies the believer’s heart, with His blood, as they are set apart.
Paul practiced what he would preach, for the people that he would reach,
As an example for all Believers today, as they walk Christ’s Narrow Way,
While they work out their salvation, through the process of sanctification,
With our old lives for Christ crucified, we live so Christ Jesus is glorified.
(Copyright ©01/2009)
A Farm House by the River
I know a little country place
Where still my heart doth linger,
And o'er its fields is every grace
Lined out by memory's finger.
Back from the lane where poplars grew
And aspens quake and quiver,
There stands all bath'd in summer's glow
A farm house by the river.
Its eaves are touched with golden light
So sweetly, softly shining,
And morning glories full and bright
About the doors are twining.
And there endowed with every grace
That nature's hand could giver her,
There lived the angel of the place
In the farm house by the river.
Her eyes were blue, her hair was gold,
Her face was bright and sunny;
The songs that from her bosom rolled
Were sweet as summer's honey.
And I loved her well, that maid divine,
And I prayed the Gracious Giver,
That I some day might call her mine
In the farm house by the river.
Twas not to be - but God knows best.
His will for aye be heeded!
Perhaps amid the angels' bliss,
My little love was needed.
Her spirit from its thralldom torn
Went singing o'er the river,
And that sweet life my heart shall mourn
Forever and forever.
She dies one morn at early light
When all the birds are singing,
And Heaven itself in pure delight
Its bells of joy seemed ringing.
They laid her dust where soon and late
The solemn grasses quiver,
And left alone and desolate
The farm house by the river.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Gigantic
And this I know
His teeth as white as snow
What a gas it was to see him
Walk her every day
Into a shady place
With her lips she said
She said
Hey paul, hey paul, hey paul, lets have a ball (3x)
Gigantic, gigantic, gigantic
A big big love
Gigantic, gigantic, gigantic
A big big love
Lovely legs there are
What a big black mask
What a hunk of love
Walk her every day into a shady place
Hes like the dark, but Id want him
Hey paul, hey paul, hey paul, lets have a ball (3x)
Gigantic, gigantic, gigantic
A big big love
Gigantic, gigantic, gigantic
A big big love
Gigantic, gigantic, gigantic
A big big love
Gigantic, gigantic, gigantic
A big big love
song performed by by Pixies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
A Pre Nup Is Vital
Paul's now married Nancy Shevell,
He knows she won't put him through Hell
It's great that he can now be sure,
She'll take him on a, ‘' Magical Mystery Tour ‘'
Paul has had a nasty fright,
He was having, '' A Hard Days Night ‘',
His ex behaved like a bloody whelp,
That's why he deserved some, '' Help ''.
All she wanted was'' A Taste Of Honey '',
Then she said, ‘' I Want Money '',
Poor Pauls mind was in a whirl,
He wishes he'd met ‘'Another Girl ‘'.
If he had there would be no frown,
All he asked was ‘'Don't Let Me Down ‘',
He told his Stella in a letter,
You warned me ‘' I Should Have Known Better ‘'.
Next time if there are signs of strife,
Take my advice and ‘'Run For Your Life ‘',
No need to listen to any more yammer,
Just use old ‘' Maxwells Silver Hammer ‘'.
His lawyers advised him don't say a word,
We'll soon have you as ‘' Free As A Bird '',
Don't get angry or even, ‘' Shout '',
Leave it to us ‘' We Can Work It Out ‘'.
Take a holiday perhaps to Rome,
You can celebrate now ‘' She's Leaving Home ‘',
Now you've finally given her shove,
Your money will make her a ‘' Soldier Of Love ‘'.
Some of the claims were really wild,
They should be thinking of their, '' Little Child ‘'.
She kept saying it wasn't me,
He really wished she'd ' Let It Be ‘'''.
Paul stayed silent despite the flak,
He only wished she would '' Get Back ‘',
Perhaps to Russia that's quite far,
Then she'd be'' Back In The U.S.S.R. ‘'.
Throughout it all felt like Digby,
He wishes he'd married '' Eleanor Rigby ‘',
The lurid claims kept the trouble brewing,
Paul asked her do you know, ‘' What You're Doing ‘'.
She says money that will do,
It's worth what came ‘' From Me To You ‘',
Paul stays quiet and keeps in line,
When asked he just says '' I Feel Fine ‘'.
He's worried about Bea and what she will say,
When she recalls, ‘' Things We Said Today ‘',
Paul had nothing to hide he had no need to lie,
All he asked was please ‘' Tell Me Why ‘'.
Some of the claims were really crass,
But Paul just says ‘' All Things Must Pass ‘',
Now she's finally gone away,
She has now become '' Yesterday ‘'.
That's when his pride he will restore,
He'll never look back on, ‘' The Night Before ‘'
He's behaved with dignity he's kept his pride,
Now he can buy a ‘' Ticket To Ride ''.
Now just as Pauls life transcends,
He'l say I'lll get by, ‘' With A Little Help From My Friends '',
As he starts his new life his problems unload,
He is now on, ‘' The Long And Winding Road ''.
Now she's long gone Paul lets out a sigh,
While his ex is still ranting Paul says, ‘' No Reply ‘',
She's raging at Paul she says it's not funny,
Her claim was ‘' You Never Give Me Your Money ''.
Paul said stop it you're making me cry,
Please go and get yourself ‘' Some Other Guy ‘',
I was doing okay ‘' Till There Was You ‘',
Now I can live, ‘' Like Dreamers Do ''.
Now this is finished I will guarantee,
Until I die ‘' You Won't See Me ‘',
Paul's a romantic he's not a fighter,
Maybe now he'll become ‘' A Paperback Writer ‘'.
He can tell us all now he's rid of his fetter,
How his new life is ‘' Getting Better ''
He can write a new book or create some new numbers,
Now he has time for some ‘' Golden Slumbers ''
Pauls divorce means they're finally apart,
He knows she had ‘' A Devil In Her Heart ‘',
She has finally gone there is no more pain,
Paul says ‘' Christmas Time Is Here Again ‘'.
He has now seen ‘' The Inner Light ‘',
Now that his ex is way out of sight,
His marriage to her was a bitter pill,
Which left him feeling like ‘' The Fool On The Hill ‘'.
But now he's back where he belongs,
Writing and singing his memorable songs,
At last he can say ‘' Here Comes The Sun ‘',
He now thinks ‘' Happiness Is A Warm Gun ‘'.
His new soul-mate Nancy is a gift from above,
He'll now find the meaning of ‘' Real Love ‘',
We all know his ex was making him cry,
Now she's asking her friends ‘' Don't Pass Me By ‘'.
So go on Paul you know what to do,
Tell Bea ‘' I'm Happy Just To Dance With You ‘',
‘' If You've Got Trouble ‘' you can take the flak,
Like you always say ‘' I'LL BE BACK ‘'.
Third time lucky with Nancy Shevell,
She'd stand by me, ‘' If I Fell ''
I know she'll never leave me reeling,
You ask how I know, ‘' I've Got A Feeling ‘'.
Pauls behaviour we can only commend,
We all knew he'd win through in, ‘' The End ''
Now he's remarried he can pen a new title,
perhaps he will call it,
‘'A PRE NUP IS VITAL''.
I’ll Learn One Day What They Know
I ran into Tammy Alderman today.
She asked me, “Do you know
Jerry West died last month of a heart attack? ”
I told her, “No, I didn’t know.”
She then asked, “Do you know
Paul Graff died a year ago
With a brain tumor? ”
I said, “No way! Not Paul!
He was a complete sweetheart,
I knew him from kindergarten!
I’ll think about him now
For the rest of the night! ”
From my teens on,
I’ve gazed at death
With lustful eyes,
But my grade school
And high school pals
Have perished instead!
Like Allen Ginsberg wrote
In a poem from the1970’s,
“I never learned to die.”
From the Master’s poem: Ode to Failure
poem by Uriah Hamilton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Lost Dream
AH, I have changed, I do not know
Why lonely hours affect me so.
In days of yore, this were not wont,
No loneliness my soul could daunt.
For me too serious for my age,
The weighty tome of hoary sage,
Until with puzzled heart astir,
One God-giv'n night, I dreamed of her.
I loved no woman, hardly knew
More of the sex that strong men woo
Than cloistered monk within his cell;
But now the dream is lost, and hell
Holds me her captive tight and fast
Who prays and struggles for the past.
No living maid has charmed my eyes,
But now, my soul is wonder-wise.
For I have dreamed of her and seen
Her red-brown tresses, ruddy sheen,
Have known her sweetness, lip to lip,
The joy of her companionship.
When days were bleak and winds were rude,
She shared my smiling solitude,
And all the bare hills walked with me
To hearken winter's melody.
And when the spring came o'er the land
We fared together hand in hand
Beneath the linden's leafy screen
That waved above us faintly green.
In summer, by the river-side,
Our souls were kindred with the tide
That floated onward to the sea
As we swept toward Eternity.
The bird's call and the water's drone
Were all for us and us alone.
The water-fall that sang all night
Was her companion, my delight,
And e'en the squirrel, as he sped
Along the branches overhead,
Half kindly and half envious,
Would chatter at the joy of us.
'Twas but a dream, her face, her hair,
The spring-time sweet, the winter bare,
The summer when the woods we ranged, —
'Twas but a dream, but all is changed.
Yes, all is changed and all has fled,
The dream is broken, shattered, dead.
And yet, sometimes, I pray to know
How just a dream could hold me so.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!