Related quotes: Weak midnight promises of love...

Nocturnal Supremacy

Weak midnight promises of love
Were wept upon Her grave
And shunned by stars above
In mortal life lurks my dismay
An Angel stole my heart
and Death took Her away

She sleeps beyond the grace of god
A dreaming beauty
If wishes could only fray that bond
The dead would sing for me...

Twelth moon arose with ghostly voice
A poet's serenade
Her name a whisper 'pon my lips
And lo

song performed by by Cradle Of Filth from V Empire (Or Dark Faerytales In Phallustein)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes

The Bunyip

Oh, came you up by the place of dread
(west red, and the moon low down)
where no winds blow and the birds have fled
and the gum stands dead and its arms gleam white,
and the tribe sneak by with a stealthy tread
in the ghostly light,in the ghostly light.
Brave Worraland went one grey nightfall
(A woi! woi!) where the grim rocks frown;
he came no more to the camps at all
(Skies dark, and the moon low down).

As we came up by the gully side
(Deep dusk, and the moon low down)
A Dingo whined and a Curlew cried
and the reeds replied as in hushed affright
where tall brae Worraland screamed and died
in the ghostly light, in the ghostly light.
For the Thing lurks there in the haunted place
(A woi! woi!) where the pool is brown,
where lost ones vanish and leave no trace
(Day dead, and the moon low down).

Of, go not by near the bunyip's lair
(Stars dim, and the moon low down)
or tip-toe past and beware, beware
the dark pool snare and be set for flight,
for things of terror have happened there
in the ghostly light, in the ghostly light
and in the gunyas we crouch and hark
(A woi! woi!) where the dead men drown
The monster's bellow across the dark
(Stars gone, and the moon low down).

poem by James Martin Devaney
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Midnight Sky

Midnight Sky
Thousands upon thousands of stars.
A majestic beauty that takes my breathe away.
The full moon's serene glow.
The Midnight Sky.
Constellations are scattered across the sky.
The North Star brightly gleaming.
How can this world of radiance be real?
The Midnight Sky.
I marvel at their awe inspiring beauty.
The moon has reached highest point in the sky.
It is a beauty that still renders me speechless
The Midnight Sky.
I am starting at the Midnight Sky.

poem by Bleeding Heart
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To Hear Your Voice

To hear you voice, brings warmth
the soft tone and the sexy accent
the elegant sound of words together
make the heart pitter patter
your whisper brings goosebumps of love
from a father to hear you talk reminds me
of how your voice cares, like your beauty
to call and hear your voice brings joy of love
picturing you near and by my side
how comfort you voice makes me
to hear you sing is a angel from heaven
the laughter is joy of humor we make
the tears brings crackles to your sound
breaks my heart to it so.
saying I Love You returns your smiles
whisper to me how you feel
I need to hear the voice of love and joy
sweet voice of yours make the world turn

poem by Michael Peterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wintry Midnight Moon

Setting at night,
Through ghostly clouds,
Moving giving comfort,
To all those young 'uns,
Sleeping and dreaming of monsters,
Fairy-tales and sweet dreams.

Moon so silent, gentle
In the skies,
Joyful at being the one,
To watch over all,
Except over the suns territory,
They do swaps...

The brilliance of the white light,
The cheese up in the sky,
So peaceful to sit under,
The starry sky gazing at the moon,
In the night-time dew in the grass,
Have a glass of apple juice.

Take the 'cheers' to the moon,
For the light and beauty,
The loveliness about the moon,
For in this poem nothing bad is said,
The moons brilliance, relaxing the dead...

Through the winter midnight strikes,
Christmas day begins,
The moon shines to all extent,
The clouds wearing sunglasses to see the moon,
Never to block its rays,
In these numbered, wintery midnight days,
Which this wintery midnight moon so much enjoys,
As being the main part of this starry festival,
Keeping the tradition going...

poem by Viraj Bhanshaly
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Moonlight Seranade

I stand at your gate
And the song that I sing is of moonlight
I stand and I wait
For the touch of your hand in the June light
The roses are side you
A moonlight serenade
The star's are a glow
And tonight how there light
Sets me dreaming
My love do you know
That your eyes, are like stars
Brightly beaming
I bring you, and sing you
A moonlight serenade
Let us stray, till break of day
In loves valley of dreams
Just you and I
A summer sky
A heavenly breeze
Kissing the trees
So don't let me wait
Come to me tenderly in the June night
I stand at your gate
And I sing you a song in the moonlight
A love song, my darlin
A moonlight serenade
So don't let me wait
Come to me tenderly in the June night
I stand at your gate
And I sing you a song in the moonlight
A love song, my darlin
A moonlight serenade
A moonlight serenade

song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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George and Sarah Green

WHO weeps for strangers? Many wept
For George and Sarah Green;
Wept for that pair's unhappy fate,
Whose grave may here be seen.

By night, upon these stormy fells,
Did wife and husband roam;
Six little ones at home had left,
And could not find that home.

For 'any' dwelling-place of man
As vainly did they seek.
He perish'd; and a voice was heard--
The widow's lonely shriek.

Not many steps, and she was left
A body without life--
A few short steps were the chain that bound
The husband to the wife.

Now do those sternly-featured hills
Look gently on this grave;
And quiet now are the depths of air,
As a sea without a wave.

But deeper lies the heart of peace
In quiet more profound;
The heart of quietness is here
Within this churchyard bound.

And from all agony of mind
It keeps them safe, and far
From fear and grief, and from all need
Of sun or guiding star.

O darkness of the grave! how deep,
After that living night--
That last and dreary living one
Of sorrow and affright?

O sacred marriage-bed of death,
That keeps them side by side
In bond of peace, in bond of love,
That may not be untied!

poem by William Wordsworth
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The Vain Spell

THE house sleeps dark and the moon wakes white,
The fields are alight with dew;
'Oh, will you not come to me, Love, to-night?
I have waited the whole night through,
For I knew,
O Heart of my heart, I knew by my heart,
That the night of all nights is this,
When elm shall crack and lead shall part,
When moulds shall sunder and shot bolts start
To let you through to my kiss.'

So spake she alone in the lonely house.
She had wrapped her round with the spell,
She called the call, she vowed the vow,
And the heart she had pledged knew well
That this was the night, the only night,
When the moulds might be wrenched apart,
When the living and dead, in the dead of the night,
Might clasp once more, in the grave's despite,
For the price of a living heart.

But out in the grave the corpse lay white
And the grave clothes were wet with dew;
'Oh, will you not come to me, Love, to-night,
I have waited the whole night through,
For I knew
That I dared not leave my grave for an hour
Since the hour of all hours is near,
When you shall come to the hollow bower,
In a cast of the wind, in a waft of the Power,
To the heart that to-night beats here!'

The moon grows pale and the house sleeps still
Ah, God! do the dead forget?
The grave is white and the bed is chill,
But a guest may be coming yet.
But the hour has come and the hour has gone
That never will come again;
Love's only chance is over and done,
And the quick and the dead are twain, not one,
And the price has been paid in vain.

poem by Edith Nesbit
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Midsummer Midnight Skies

Midsummer midnight skies,
Midsummer midnight influences and airs,
The shining, sensitive silver of the sea
Touched with the strange-hued blazonings of dawn;
And all so solemnly still I seem to hear
The breathing of Life and Death,
The secular Accomplices,
Renewing the visible miracle of the world.

The wistful stars
Shine like good memories. The young morning wind
Blows full of unforgotten hours
As over a region of roses. Life and Death
Sound on--sound on . . . And the night magical,
Troubled yet comforting, thrills
As if the Enchanted Castle at the heart
Of the wood's dark wonderment
Swung wide his valves, and filled the dim sea-banks
With exquisite visitants:
Words fiery-hearted yet, dreams and desires
With living looks intolerable, regrets
Whose voice comes as the voice of an only child
Heard from the grave: shapes of a Might-Have-Been -
Beautiful, miserable, distraught -
The Law no man may baffle denied and slew.

The spell-bound ships stand as at gaze
To let the marvel by. The grey road glooms . . .
Glimmers . . . goes out . . . and there, O, there where it fades,
What grace, what glamour, what wild will,
Transfigure the shadows? Whose,
Heart of my heart, Soul of my soul, but yours?

Ghosts--ghosts--the sapphirine air
Teems with them even to the gleaming ends
Of the wild day-spring! Ghosts,
Everywhere--everywhere--till I and you
At last--dear love, at last! -
Are in the dreaming, even as Life and Death,
Twin-ministers of the unoriginal Will.

poem by William Ernest Henley
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The Lover And The Moon

A LOVER whom duty called over the wave,
With himself communed: 'Will my love be true
If left to herself? Had I better not sue
Some friend to watch over her, good and grave?
But my friend might fail in my need,' he said,
'And I return to find love dead.
Since friendships fade like the flow'rs of June,
I will leave her in charge of the stable moon.'
Then he said to the moon: 'O dear old moon,
Who for years and years from thy throne above
Hast nurtured and guarded young lovers and love,
My heart has but come to its waiting June,
And the promise time of the budding vine;
Oh, guard thee well this love of mine.'
And he harked him then while all was still,
And the pale moon answered and said, 'I will.'
And he sailed in his ship o'er many seas,
And he wandered wide o'er strange far strands:
in isles of the south and in Orient lands,
Where pestilence lurks in the breath of the breeze.
But his star was high, so he braved the main,
And sailed him blithely home again;
And with joy he bended his footsteps soon
To learn of his love from the matron moon.
She sat as of yore, in her olden place,
Serene as death, in her silver chair.
A white rose gleamed in her whiter hair,
And the tint of a blush was on her face.
At sight of the youth she sadly bowed
And hid her face 'neath a gracious cloud.
She faltered faint on the night's dim marge,
But 'How,' spoke the youth, 'have you kept your charge?'
The moon was sad at a trust ill-kept;
The blush went out in her blanching cheek,
And her voice was timid and low and weak,
As she made her plea and sighed and wept.
'Oh, another prayed and another plead,
And I couldn't resist,' she answering said;
'But love still grows in the hearts of men:
Go forth, dear youth, and love again.'
But he turned him away from her proffered grace.
'Thou art false, O moon, as the hearts of men,
I will not, will not love again.'
And he turned sheer 'round with a soul-sick face
To the sea, and cried: 'Sea, curse the moon,
Who makes her vows and forgets so soon.'
And the awful sea with anger stirred,
And his breast heaved hard as he lay and heard.
And ever the moon wept down in rain,
And ever her sighs rose high in wind;
But the earth and sea were deaf and blind,
And she wept and sighed her griefs in vain.
And ever at night, when the storm is fierce,
The cries of a wraith through the thunders pierce;
And the waves strain their awful hands on high
To tear the false moon from the sky.

poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In the spirit of Rumi - 43 - The Poet

And they often said,
‘O poet, as you call yourself –
why are all your verses
to your divine Beloved, full
of ‘as’ and ‘like’? ’ –

‘Her lips are like red rubies, or as strawberries’…
‘Her neck, as slender as that of a running young gazelle’…
‘Her smile is like sun after rain’…

‘Why do you tempt us with these earthly things? ’

The poet said

‘Like’ and ‘as’ are the keys to heaven, no less:
there is no language spoken yet by men
equal to the language of Her presence –

my truest poetry is spoken in the moment when
I look upon her beauty, but stunned to silence –
but how then to praise her, tell of her
to those who never saw her beauty yet? …

and so, I take those things most familiar,
most dear to the senses of all mortal men,
saying, is this not beautiful? And yet, beyond all this
her beauty, which yet comprehends all sense,
all mind, all spirit, all love, all lovers, is her love…

and even when I do not say those words,
but, silent, let an image come of her:
‘A gazelle ran wide-eyed through my dream; and I awoke
with the taste of strawberries on my lips…’

then, I know myself to be blest by her,
and yet, the image but a teasing veil;

this is her immortal gift to poets –
to know their mortal failure, yet
to sing to men: I saw her but in passing…yet…
now, I am possessed of her, and sworn
the Beloved’s servant all my loving life…

poem by Michael Shepherd
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Google = A Good Poem = 147, Ooo, Ooo

A good poem paints a picture
For both your heart and brain.
It doesn't need a second chance
To make its meaning plain.

A good poem is like the flower
The lily or the rose.
God plants it in a poet's brain
And there its beauty grows.

A good poem like a cardinal
Is pregnant with song
You can't help but hear its message
As it sings what's right or wrong.

A good poem helps us remember
What the joys of life are for
It makes us want to love someone
Till death comes knocking at our door.

POETRY

God has always had his poets
Who He watches with love from space.
But Satan has his poets too
Who try to lead us from our grace.

King Solomon was a poet
Who spoke of love, life, death and war.
That lips were like threads of scarlet
And that breasts were roses and more.

The wild birds sing and flowers bloom
As clouds form figures in the sky.
But only humans will write poems
That shall last long after they die.

The eldest sister of all arts
Which some have called the Devils wine.
Poetry is but pure passion
To stimulate the heart and mind.

BY GOD'S POET = tom zart!

poem by Tom Zart
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& Quot;C & Quot;Moon Cry Like A Baby

Cry cry cry
Cry like a baby
C moon c moon
So where do you go, up hi under low
The devil I know said, something is missing
Outside its hot, the first of july
And a look in your eye said, something is missing
Midnight, she cried like a baby
C moon c moon c moon
Cry like a baby
Can this be something we cant understand
Could it be the girl cant understand
Where will we go, up hi under low
When the devil I know say, something is missing
Sweet angels sing, about the fast place of things
But our children sing, love will conquer anything
Midnight she cried like a baby
C moon c moon c moon
Cry like a baby
Could it be we cant understand
Can it be we can...
Cry, cry, cry, cry like a baby
Midnight cry like a whisper
Scream like a baby
Could this be something we cant understand
Cry like a baby
Words & music : james kerr, charlie burchill, mel gaynor, derek forbes, michael macneil (c) emi publishing ltd reproduced without permission

song performed by by Simple Minds
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Four Angels

As Adam lay a-dreaming beneath the Apple Tree
The Angel of the Earth came down, and offered Earth in fee;
But Adam did not need it,
Nor the plough he would not speed it,
Singing: --"Earth and Water, Air and Fire,
What more can mortal man desire?"
(The Apple Tree's in bud)

As Adam lay a-dreaming beneath the Apple Tree
The Angel of the Waters offered all the Seas in fee;
But Adam would not take 'em,
Nor the ships he wouldn't make 'em,
Singing:--"Water, Earth and Air and Fire,
What more can mortal man desire? "
(The Apple Tree's in leaf.)

As Adam lay a-dreaming beneath the Apple Tree
The Angel of the Air he offered all the Air in fee;
But Adam did not crave it,
Nor the flight he wouldn't brave it,
Singing: --"Air and Water, Earth and Fire,
What more can mortal man desire:"
(The Apple Tree's in bloom.)

As Adam lay a-dreaming beneath the Apple Tree
The Angel of the Fire rose up and not a word said he;
But he wished a flame and made it,
And in Adam's heart he laid it,
Singing: --"Fire, Fire, burning Fire!
Stand up, and reach your heart's desire!"
(The Apple Blossom's set.)

As Adam was a-working outside of Eden-Wall,
He used the Earth, he used the Seas, he used the Air and all;
Till out of black disaster
He arose to be a master
Of Earth and Water, Air and Fire,
But never reached his heart's desire!
(The Apple Tree's cut down!)

poem by Rudyard Kipling
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The muses kiss

Her beauty has stole my thoughts
Kept each word from my lips
While each kiss becomes a blessing
I find myself at a loss to speak
I long to lay beside her indefinitely
To close our tired eyes and sleep
That we may dream such dreams
We had never dared dream before
Beneath what moon we could lay
The open stars, the astral heavens
Full beautiful and endless
And there I see only my muse
She who swept in to steal my thoughts
Only to touch my heart in a way
That I had only previously believed
In each waking hour or dreaming state
I find myself, thoughts captivated
By the muse, those lips, her kiss
That have claimed my every word
Even that the heart forbids

poem by Matthew Holloway
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Promises On The Wind

as the wind blows,
you can hear the angels whisper,
promises on the wind.
all your hopes and deepest fears
have had to be hidden for many years,
and never been revealed,
promises on the wind.
wings to fly upon your back,
and the key to heavens almighty gate,
promises on the wind.
immortal beauty shown upon thy face,
with god and jesus in attendence grace,
the angels come to watch in that empty space,
you hear them as they whisper,
promises on the wind.

poem by Kenzie Lynn
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Dark Angel, My Angel

(Humbly dedicated to my only angel, my cricket angel, my dark angel)

As I woke up from dreaming
I quickly stood up scared and crying
Suddenly, I heard a whisper inviting
T’was a strange voice I was seeking

I looked around my dark lonely room
I find nothing and still all alone
Night was about to end that dawn
Hopeless, Yes! That’s my home

Sun started to rise in the morning
Someone touched me with an invisible wing
Wrapped with his arms around my being
He was an angel, I was waiting!

Dark angel, my angel - you are amazing
Faith and love are just same things
For an angel like you, I received these blessings
I LOVE YOU my angel, you filled my soul with meaning

always,
(your butterfly angel)

poem by Tough Angel fly purple butterfly fly
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My Desert Serenade

(words & music by stan gelber)
Come here my serenade, my desert serenade
A lovers melody, to bring you close to me
Its a tender lullaby, born of golden sand and sky
The song is new, and its calling you
Tonight beside the desert palms
Come let me take you in my arms
Come here my serenade, my desert serenade
Wherever lovers dwell, it weaves its magic spell
Soon a thousand dreams will start,
And romance will fill your heart
My lips conceal, love thats warm and real
Give me a chance to hold you near
Youll see a brand new world appear
So come and hear, my desert serenade, my desert serenade,
My desert serenade

song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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At Juliet's Tomb.

This fair woman who is dead
(Sung so sweet of long ago)
Lies not in a mortal bed —
Song has made her couch to grow
With all sweet things, as they stir
Like unfading growths that cling
In an everlasting spring
Round her Poet's dream of her.
Time is dead — she has not died!
All the light of beauty stays,
As if the sweet lips replied
To whate'er her lover says
O'er the tomb to her, as he
Fingers her undying hair:
Such is death when Love is there,
Love that lives in poesy.

poem by Robert Crawford
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Song from Aella

O SING unto my roundelay,
O drop the briny tear with me;
Dance no more at holyday,
Like a running river be: