Melody
Caring words, noble feelings, wise thoughts
Have been enchanting from afar.
A friendship so true, warm, and soft
Worth being a tune for your guitar.
We can listen to the strings echoing
Blessed melodies so high,
And telling stories of living
That joyfully reach the sky!
(March,2010)
poem by Maria C. Costa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Stories We Could Tell
By: john b. sebastian
1974
Talkin to myself again
Wonderin if this travellin is good
Is there somethin else a doin
Wed be doin if we could
Chorus:
But ah, the stories we could tell
And if it all blows up and goes to hell
I wish that we could sit upon a bed in some motel
Listen to the stories we could tell
Stared at that guitar in that museum in tennessee
Nameplate on the glass brought back twenty melodies
Scars upon the face told of all the times he fell
Singin all the stories he could tell
Chorus:
Ah, the stories he could tell
And Ill bet you it still rings like a bell
I wish that we could sit upon a bed in some motel
And listen to the stories it could tell
So if youre on the road trackin down your every night
Playin for a livin beneath brightly colored lights
And if you ever wonder why you ride the carousel
You do it for the stories you can tell
Ah, the stories we could tell
And if it all blows up and goes to hell
I wish that we could sit upon a bed in some motel
Just listen to the stories we could tell
Coda:
Yes, I wish that we could sit upon a bed in some motel
Listen to the stories it could tell
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Yellow Guitar
It’s nothing but me now and these strings
There’s nothing holding me in between
I bought this yellow guitar
And now its stole my heart
There’s nothing but your voice echoing in my head
And nothing to complain to
Yeah I bought this yellow guitar
To sing to you
Cause I got all these words circling my mind
Got to many nights I stayed awake to cry
There’s nothing but these strings now to prove who we are
Im left holding this yellow guitar
Cupids arrow has struck me hard
Surprised how much I am in love
With this yellow guitar
poem by Christy Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Richest Man
A true friendship is Golden,
It lasts for eternity, not for a fleeting moment,
It endures petty squabbles and unkind words,
it endures because it is Golden.
...A true friendship is climbing the largest mountain in the world,
It is wrapping up warm on a bitter, wintry day,
It is the warm glow of a traditional log fire,
A true friendship is Golden.
A true friendship is about trying to make things better,
providing strength in times of adversity,
and courage in times of weakness,
A true friendship is Golden.
A true friendship is turning dakness into light,
being a rock to rely on when life is cruel,
it is about being there when the going is tough,
A true friendship is Golden.
A true friendship is unwrapping a special present on Christmas day,
it is the tinsel that decorates so beautifully the tree,
it is the star that lights up the night sky,
A true friendship is priceless, something gold cant buy
poem by Simon Thorpe
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Spiritual Journey
Many lovely stories have been told
So passionately, rich they are like gold.
Strong feelings, lively emotions have been preserved
So intensely, true they are so vivid!
Daily melodies have added a sweet flavour
Conveying divine messages from our Saviour.
A spiritual journey had its start,
And it will never stop or fall apart.
She is pursuing her dream warmly
Enlightened by the ONE who attentively
Guides her, feeding her soul and mind
To be able to reach there those so kind!
(7th July 2010)
poem by Maria C. Costa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Minstrel Of The Dawn
The minstrel of the dawn is here
To make you laugh and bend your ear
Up the steps youll hear him climb
All full of thoughts, all full of rhymes
Listen to the pictures flow
Across the room into your mind they go
Listen to the strings
They jangle and dangle
While the old guitar rings
The minstrel of the dawn is he
Not too wise but oh so free
Hell talk of life out on the street
Hell play it sad and say it sweet
Look into his shining face
Of lonelines youll always find a trace
Just like me and you
Hes tryin to get into things
More happy than blue
A minstrel of the changin tide
Hell ask for nothing but his pride
Just sit him down upon that chair
Go fetch some wine and set it there
Listen to the pictures flow
Across the room into your mind they go
Listen to the strings
They jangle and dangle
While the old guitar rings
A minstrel of the dawn is near
Just like a step n fetchit here
Hes like an old time troubador
Just wanting life and nothing more
Look into his shining eyes
And if you see a ghost dont be surprised
Like me and you
Hes tryin to get into things
More happy than blue
The minstrel boy will understand
He holds a promise in his hand
He talks of better days ahead
And by his words your fortunes read
Listen to the pictures flow
Across the room into your mind they go
Listen to the strings
They jangle and dangle
While the old guitar rings
The minstrel of the dawn is gone
I hope hell call before too long
And if you meet him you must be
The victim of his minstrelsy
Hell sing for you a song
The minstrel of the dawn
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
That Old Thing? It's No You
I spent the night twiddling around on my guitar
A night when I should have been talking to her
Sure, she'll listen to me play
But I think she'd listen to anything I have to say
And this guitar will get old and worn
And the strings will rust
And the neck will crack
And the wood will warp
And playing this guitar gives me callus fingertips
But my girl, she's the one that soothed me when I was forlorn
She's the one I can always trust
I think she will always have my back
Even when I know it's not true, she'll tell me I'm always looking sharp
And she's the one of I sing for, when the song comes from my lips
poem by J.M Berger
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Moonlit Melody.
The night wind carries from afar
The soft sweet strains of a guitar.
Although the tune’s familiar
I cannot bring its name to mind
The soft notes carried on the breeze
recall forgotten memories
Gently reminding me.
That fate was not always kind.
I’ve had my share of happiness
I’ve known both failure and success.
They seem to balance more or less
So I am blessed with peace of mind
I sit and listen quietly
the distant music soothing me
into a state of reverie.
In which I find I am resigned
To being old and on my own
a feeling which has slowly grown
Since my love died. left me alone
She had to go left me behind.
I know I will rejoin her soon
beyond the mountains of the moon.
When death grants me the final boon.
I’m certain that I shall not mind
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
THEY ARE POETS TOO, You are a poet!
THEY ARE POETS TOO, You are a poet!
THOSE who misspell
And those who are still coping up
With their metaphors
The techniques
Of rhyme & beat
Those who think
They do not
Know how to
Write poetry
And those
Who fear
What to say
What to write
What the others say
About their poetry
And those that doubt
Their writing
Abilities
Their thoughts
Their feelings
Their feelings
Their feelings
Yes
Yes
Their feelings
Or those who simply
Fear that they may only
Be displeasing
And disappointing
And those whose
Sense of confidence
About this thing
This poetry
This poem thing
Those that still
Hide what they
Feel to what they
Think
Is prose
Those who think that
Their life
Is not worth
Sharing in the
The beat and
Rhyme of poetry
Behold
The mere thought
About life
About a beating heart
The pulse
The eyes that blink
The fingers fidgety
That type the words
Of feelings
Of feelings
Yes
Yes
About feelings
It is all about feelings
The genuine feelings
Of your life
You type them
Each word
To another word
A chain of words
A long chain of words
Like playing the music
To the piano keys
Like strumming
The strings of a
Flamenco guitar
A certain music
A certain beat
To the sound
Of your computer keys
Hear the beat
And the rhyme
Of your computer keys
Each word
To another word
To a chain of words
To a longer chain of words
You are running a chain of feelings
You are chasing a chain of feelings long chained in your hearts wanting to be free
To be free
To be free
Yes
Yes
You, feeling to be free to run free to be all free
Like you were scattering red rose petals to this pedestal
Like you were sprinkling waters to this garden
Like you were splashing waters in the sea
Like you were bathing playing dancing in the rain
Like you were humming a tune to a trek on a hill
Like you were making love with your beloved the whole night
Behold
A poet in you is born
Behold
You are typing
A poem
You are
Feeling
And you are
By all means
Now a poet
I hereby baptize you
With that name.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Strumming The Strings Of My Heart
I watch you play,
Making a beautiful tune
The strings of the guitar shaking
As you sit in the light of the moon
Your plucking the strings
With great ease
Making a flowing melody
A pretty song, just for me
I continue to watch
You playing your guitar
Making me love you
While your strumming the strings of my heart
These strings will never be touched
By anyone but you
You go where no one else can
Leaving a mark, like a tattoo,
Saying I LOVE YOU
poem by Katniss Everdeen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
An Odd Conceit
Lovely kind, and kindly loving,
Such a mind were worth the moving;
Truly fair, and fairly true-
Where are all these, but in you?
Wisely kind, and kindly wise;
Blessed life, where such love lies!
Wise, and kind, and fair, and true-
Lovely live all these in you.
Sweetly dear, and dearly sweet;
Blessed, where these blessings meet!
Sweet, fair, wise, kind, blessed, true-
Blessed be all these in you!
poem by Nicholas Breton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Electric Guitar
Electric guitar gets run over by a car on the highway
This is a crime against the state
This is the meaning of life.
To tune this electric guitar
An electric guitar is brought in to a court of law
The judge and the jury (twelve members of the jury)
All listening to records
This is a crime against the state
This is the verdict they reach:
Never listen to electric guitar
Electric guitar is copies, the copy sounds better
Call this the law of justice, call this freedom and liberty
I thought I perjure myself, right infront of the jury!
Is this a crime against the state? no!
This is the verdict they reach:
Someone controls electric guitar.
song performed by by Talking Heads
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Selling the Guitar
The old strings of this guitar
they argue with my fingers
Perhaps the E string
with its proud tone
has better things to do
Maybe one night
this guitar
chose to become a piano
or speak other languages
Someone put the words
Out of tune
It no longer understands me
Now the songs refuse to be heard
Now things don't sound the same
And this guitar, I'm selling-
Perhaps has something against my fingers.
poem by Elvis Lantan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
March
Were I young again
and the month of March
were upon me
I'd skip down the road,
do a march to March,
sing a tune to March
dance a dance to March,
risk a prance to March,
strut and grind and do
a break dance to March.
Hop, skip and jump to March,
just like a the girl I used to be,
once upon a time in March,
when my cheeks had high colour
and my hopes were high.
poem by Ruth Walters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
My Shukkus
Far away on the destiny
I met a person who was not so funny
Calm and silent world, he would like
I knew he was not crazy as Mike
Peace was in his eyes, heart was stoned
At mornings 5: 30 he phoned
The light of his words, I felt dreamy
His thoughts are warm and steamy
Reach of stars which scattered the sky are in his thoughts
Wind of feelings touched my face against all the noughts
Parents named him as shukkur
For me he is much more secure
I liked him double and mixed
Our funny friendship was always fixed
poem by Monica kulal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Eternal Circle
I sang the song slowly
As she stood in the shadows
She stepped to the light
As my silver strings spun
She called with her eyes
To the tune is a-playin
But the song it was long
And Id only begun
Through a bullet of light
Her face was reflectin
The fast fading words
That rolled from my tongue
With a long-distance look
Her eyes was on fire
But the song it was long
And there was more to be sung.
My eyes danced a circle
Across her clear outline
With her head tilted sideways
She called me again
As the tune drifted out
She breathed hard through the echo
But the song it was long
And it was far to the end
I glanced at my guitar
And played it pretendin
That of all the eyes out there
I could see none
As her thoughts pounded hard
Like the pierce of an arrow
But the song it was long
And it had to get done
As the tune finally folded
I laid down the guitar
Then looked for the girl
Whod stayed for so long
But her shadow was missin
For all of my searchin
So I picked up my guitar
And began the next song
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Rise Of The Enchanted
Enchanted words, and enchanted saying, enchanted words that has no meaning. Enchanted words that goes afar, enchanted saying that brings you to the stars. Rise of the enchanting is beautiful as my Lord, for it is as seeing into a woman's eyes, and love at first sight, everything is now on one accord. This is the freedom men as spoken of the freedom to be, enchanted with the mind for all to see. For as others have tried many have surpassed, the diverse mind that comes with many tests. What is the enchantment of which you so humbly speak, for it is freedom, the freedom of the meek. For I am enchanted but holding back I shall, until I show my true feelings for one I can appeal. I am enchanting and I am free, but not free to be, as tough it is my ecstasy, but I have the freedom, because freedom is free, but not enchanted I may not be, for to be free I have to be enchanted, because to be enchanted is to be free. May I be enchanted grant me thee, shall I be enchanted, shall I be free, for this is my rise, this is my plea, this is my enchantment I always wanted to see, the enchantment within me, my rise of enchanting, the enchantment for all to agree, because finally I am free.
poem by Augustus Gatlin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
My Guitar.
my guitar has six strings,
it gets lonely when nobody sings,
musical and magical,
my pick makes my guitar sound so magical,
and no matter were i go shes right there,
when i play my guitar people always stare,
we sound so good together,
i hope my guitar will stay with me forever,
my guitar has six strings.
but it gets lonely when no one sings,
my guitar is never out of tune,
it doesnt matter who i play it too,
wether you're happy, mad or feeling blue,
just remember my guitar will help you get thru.
1/11/2009
Copyright ©2009 Jose Murguia
poem by Jose Murguia
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Stories We Could Tell
Talkin to myself again
Wondering if this travelin is good
Is there something better wed be doing if we could
And oh the stories we could tell
And if this all blows up and goes to hell
I can still see us sittin on the bed in some motel
Listenin to the stories we could tell
Remember that guitar in a museum in tennessee
And the nameplate on the glass brought back twenty melodies
And the scratches on the face
Told of all the times he fell
Singin every story he could tell
And oh the stories it could tell
And I bet you it still rings like a bell
And I wish we could sit back on the bed in some motel
And listen to the stories we could tell
So if youre on the road tracking down here every night
And youre singin for a livin neath the brightly colored lights
And if you ever wonder why you ride this carousel
You did it for the stories you could tell
And oh the stories we could tell
And if this all blows up and goes to hell
I can still see us sittin on the bed in some motel
Listenin to the stories we could tell
I can still see us sittin on the bed in some motel
Listenin to the stories we could tell
song performed by by Tom Petty
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
In Days Of Old
I listen to the stories
grandmother told,
from legends of old
fables worn out,
I hear them
over and over,
politely listen,
though they seldom vary
sometines i wonder
if even she is bored,
or is it the legacy of her time,
imposed to report,
she holds on with
a tenacity, that the past
will not fade or dim,
nor bow to medias of great din
she has a way of cocking her head
a smile screws across her face,
as lips curve and purse,
the soft breeze of words
slow at first, then flow
with a current of pictures
and thoughts, dressed in
metaphor and allegory,
filed with glamor and
glory, cloaked in raiment
of story, rolls on meandering,
from then to now and back again,
the most trivial detail becomes
a dragon or hero of import,
her sonorous tones caress
the memories that loom up
and the past comes echoing out,
of gleaming eyes,
lit up memories
that filled her skies
romantic and true
filled with satire
and sometimes
sarcasm too
as I listen
I turn the gun
of scrutiny
upon myself
and wonder
will I be be
this
way too
poem by Shimon Weinroth
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Guitar Man
They call me the guitar man.
Cause I can really bend those strings.
I no longer play in a band,
But I can make my guitar sing.
There ain't nothing I can't play,
I carry music in my soul.
I play better than yesterday,
I can play some solid gold.
My acoustic Alvarez,
Can either sing or cry.
I thank the Lord, that he has blessed,
My guitar and me from on high.
If you're ever down in Texas,
Come and see this guitar man.
I don't look at all like Elvis,
But I do the best I can.
Ask around and you will see.
That I am not so hard to find.
If you hear music, thats where I'll be,
So come on down, if your'e inclined.
9/5/10 Alton Texas
poem by Juan Olivarez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!