Rock, Stone, Sand, Wind, Time, Eternity
the sculptor,
called to the great task; through
the huge columns, ringing echoes even with a sandal’s tread,
the stone chamber,
the assembled court, gold, enamelled blue,
eyes everywhere, walls, men,
the Pharoah’s presence:
‘show me as I am:
man as lion,
king of the living and the dead;
show me as eternity’
the frail old man in heavy robes,
the courtiers nodding, smirking…
more men than men could count
whipped to task under a burning noonday sun;
behind, a half-built pyramid;
slaves chipped away the ancient bedrock
according to the careful measurements,
blocking out the figure, until the day
the sculptor himself – and older now –
mounts the scaffold to begin chipping
the face of time that meets eternity.
‘time says nothing but I told you so’;
which Pharaoh died before his monument?
five thousand years before our own stone dreams,
how many years of scaffolding?
a temple hollowing between its long, long paws.
was it looked upon with awe, or
as meaningless to children,
to their children’s children,
as the frozen gesturing bronzes of our public squares? they,
running off around the back of it
to clamber onto its stone tail?
the night wind already piling up the drifting sand,
night wind in palm leaves whispering of metaphor,
green shores lost under dunes of time;
wind and sand sculpting their own unanswered question:
what is the reason we should ask of time?
what is the question whose answer is timelessness?
poem by Michael Shepherd

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Vermillion Stone
The sinuousness of sand dunes
Wind abraded stone
The sun pinwheels
Cross the sky
One feels so all alone
Pictographs on canyon walls
Pottery shards and bone
Distant dancing dust devils
Muted howls and muttered moans
Ancient beds of dry lakes deep
Vermillion cliffs, wind hone
Canyon keeps, spirits sleep
In beds of petrified stone
Time locked tight in grains of sand
In manic tint and tone
Hourglass sifting centuries, and
Mesas flat, wind mown
One feels time locked
In vermillion rock
One feels the ageless sky
The stars, the wind
Without, within
Alone…as you and I
poem by David Whalen

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Why East Wind Chills
Why east wind chills and south wind cools
Shall not be known till windwell dries
And west's no longer drowned
In winds that bring the fruit and rind
Of many a hundred falls;
Why silk is soft and the stone wounds
The child shall question all his days,
Why night-time rain and the breast's blood
Both quench his thirst he'll have a black reply.
When cometh Jack Frost? the children ask.
Shall they clasp a comet in their fists?
Not till, from high and low, their dust
Sprinkles in children's eyes a long-last sleep
And dusk is crowded with the children's ghosts,
Shall a white answer echo from the rooftops.
All things are known: the stars' advice
Calls some content to travel with the winds,
Though what the stars ask as they round
Time upon time the towers of the skies
Is heard but little till the stars go out.
I hear content, and 'Be Content'
Ring like a handbell through the corridors,
And 'Know no answer,' and I know
No answer to the children's cry
Of echo's answer and the man of frost
And ghostly comets over the raised fists.
poem by Dylan Thomas

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Do You Love Your Children
Father do you love your children
I heard you do
But father will you help your children
We need you to
It could be worse I know its true
But only if we plan
La la la lady mary... its time to show your hand
La la la lady mary... and make a few demands
Children do you hope that someone
Is watching you
But do you feel the need for someone
I know I do
I think about it constantly
We really arent that wise
La la la lady mary... open up our eyes
La la la lady mary... and make us realize
First I have a question
(do you love us)
I would like to know
(do you love us)
Do you love your children
(do you love us)
Do you love your children
(do you love us)
Yes we really need to know
(do you love us)
I think the time has come for you to show
(do you love us)
(do you love us) (do you love us)
(do you love us)(do you love us)
(do you love us) (do you love us)
(do you love us)
Mother, do you love your children
I know you do
But mother do you know your children
Will poison you
The answer does not seem too clear
We look so hard ourselves
La la la lady mary... put your books back on the shelf
La la la lady mary... and save us from ourselves
First I have a question
(do you love us)
I would like to know
(do you love us)
Do you love your children
(do you love us)
Do you love your children
(do you love us)
Yes we really need to know
(do you love us)
I think the time has come for you to show
(do you love us)
(do you love us) (do you love us)
(do you love us)(do you love us)
(do you love us) (do you love us)
(do you love us)
song performed by by Rick Springfield

Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Under A Stone
J. spinks
Highnoon drivers got a kick tail beater
And he rides just as fast as he knows
Long shot dealer sold a real fire eater
Burning money just as fast as she goes
Kid dont care cos he cant get enough
Easy come - easy go
Tells his mama that he aint living under a stone
An hes ready oh - oh
Late night pleaser spends her daytime teaching
In the small town missionary hall
Back seat teaser never takes any money
But her friends make it nailed to the wall
She dont care cos she cant get enough
One way ticket to the ball
Tells here mama that she aint living under a stone
One night in the middle of main street
Riding in a big flash car
Sets his eyes on the good time seeker
She jumps inside but they go too far
Years go by and theyve both grown older
Kinda sorry for the things that they did
Lookin back they could have both been something
But their caution ran away with the wind
Life aint never been an easy touch
They got a house that they cant afford
And teenage kids saying they cant live under a stone
song performed by by Outfield

Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Sculpting Krishna (2)
His parents guarded the temple,
answered questions; the child
wandered, looked, later read
all that was said;
now, he selects the stone,
listening all the time, hoping that
he hears the voice of Krishna say,
take this piece…
sharpens his chisel; prays;
with each tap, a chiselled prayer
rings out the question; magnified; or diminished?
chips away – outside himself, inside himself –
all that is not Krishna;
until finally, all that awaits
is the faintest sound of flute, of lightest laughter,
heard within the sculptor’s inner ear:
stone pretending to be Krishna;
Krishna, pretending to be stone.
poem by Michael Shepherd

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
0332 How were they to know?
Yes, how were they to know,
searching in the heat of forenoon dunes,
those high hills of sand
where once the forests grew,
now a rhythm of burnt sunned, cool shadowed, mock horizons,
- they, searching for the camel which had strayed -
and finding there, a man sitting still, cross-legged
in the sand upon a small strip
of faded coloured carpet,
palm of hand crossed in palm of hand,
and in the palm of his upraised right hand,
one grain of sand
and who, as they approached,
did not shift his gaze from that one grain;
and yet they sensed that he sensed them;
better let him be, he knows what he’s about,
or if he’s mad, at least he’s quietly purposeful…
how were they to know
that as he gazed, the universe he saw
in that one grain of sand then
grew inside of him? till it filled itself,
like a sand-clock, as the last grain
falls from the upper to
the lower, and all is still again
as measured time stops still
amid the sands of time?
how were they to know
as that small figure against the desert sand
his cloak still burning to the touch,
returned to the oasis, as the red-hot sun
sank below the dramatic shadow of the furthest dune,
and later, sitting by the green palms and papyrus reeds,
the camels head down, humped around the welcome pool,
one child, then many children,
then grown men, asked him their questions;
and the answers, as the night folded in
below more stars than anyone could count,
drew the circle of cross-legged silent listeners
- occasionally, urgent voiced with a lifetime’s pressing question -
as if some grain of sand became in their mind too
totality; the universe.
poem by Michael Shepherd

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Fuse
Its coming from so far away
Its hard to say for sure
Whether what I hear is music or the wind
Through an open door
Theres a fire high in the empty sky
Where the sound meets the shore
Theres a long distance loneliness
Rolling out over the desert floor
And the years that I spent lost in the mystery
Fall away leaving only the sound of the drum
Like a part of me
It speaks to the heart of me
Forget what life used to be
You are what you choose to be
Its whatever it is you see
That life will become
Whatever it is you might think you have
You have nothing to lose
Through every dead and living thing
Time runs like a fuse
And the fuse is burning
And the earth is turning
Though the years give way to uncertainty
And the fear of living for nothing strangles the will
Theres a part of me
That speaks to the heart of me
Though sometimes its hard to see
Its never far from me
Alive in eternity
That nothing can kill
Oh lord
Are there really people starving still?
Look out beyond the walls of babylon
How long will their needs go unfilled
I want to say right now Im going to be around
Im going to be around
When the walls and towers are crumbling
When the towers are tumbling down
And I will tune my spirit to the gentle sound
I want to hear the sound
Of the waters lapping on a higher ground
Of the children laughing
song performed by by Jackson Browne

Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Sands Of Time
It was a time gone by
a time with no goodbye
but I left you
in the sand and the wind
You gave me your hand
but I couldn't hold on
you was taken
by the winds of time
Sands of time
blowing in the wind
when will they come for me
when will they come for me
I see your soul
dancing in the sands of time
I hold out my hand
but I just feel the sand and the wind
god forgive me
I can't go on
living in a world I don't belong
see my soul flying in the night
I will find you
no matter how long
I will find you
Sands of time
blowing in the wind
when will they come for me
when will they come for me
poem by Dave Alan Walker

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Children Of The Moment
CHILDREN OF THE MOMENT
June 30th- July 1st,1983 2: 00 a.m. – 4: 30 a.m.
Children of the moment, everywhere you look,
You see the visions of the world as it once was.
Clouds hide the light,
of the reflection of a star,
As it shone two thousand years ago. Light years away.
Children of the morning, everywhere it’s spring,
And you see new life all around you, as the old life’s passed away.
The leaves of yesteryear have died,
beneath the winter’s snow, now gone,
revealing seeds reborn. The promise lives.
Children of the music, everywhere you turn,
You hear the rhythm of a song that has no end.
Whispered in the wind,
And on the water, voiceless words of love,
Transcending all that is, and is to be.
Time after time, you hear the call,
The gentle beckoning.
But walking in your sleep you disregard.
In you mind, you rationalize,
The mysteries of your heart.
Don’t fall………flights of fantasy.
Don’t fall………the ice is oh so thin.
Don’t fall………the slender thread of time,
That flies more swiftly than you realize.
You must learn to see without your eyes.
Try to see beyond the veil of stars.
Believing in the obvious, yet unseen might.
Children of the fountain, watering the ground.
Children of the mountain, take a look around.
Children of the earth, children of the sky.
Children of the Father can help you realize.
Time…….after time.
Children of the Father, everywhere you go,
You see the tears of those who roam this planet lost.
Standing on the cosmic shore,
They’re staring out to sea,
Awaiting rescue from the stars. ………an S.O.S.
Time after time,
You throw the lifeline, but they turn away.
They feel your end is weighted with a stone.
But ignorance is no defence, it hurts to see them drown.
Don’t cry, because they won’t believe.
Don’t cry, you word contains a seed.
Don’t cry, remember winter’s snows,
That melt, revealing seeds reborn in hope.
You must learn that faith is eyeless sight.
Believing in the obvious yet unseen might.
Perceiving love beyond the veil of starry skies.
Children of the hypocrite, can see the truth in lies.
Children of the infidel, draw sympathetic eyes.
Child of the saint, may grow confused, outside his door.
But in his heart he knows there’s a reward worth waiting for.
Children of the liar, wake yourselves and rise.
Children of the fire, aren’t blinded by you lies.
Children of the ancient will one day dry their tears.
Children of forever need never count the years.
Children of tomorrow may never get the chance,
As spring becomes the fall, to see the seasons as they dance.
Child of the soldier knows that freedom’s bought with pain.
Children of the empire will send them back again, and again.
poem by Albert Ralph

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Future Is The Children's
The future is the children's and I am of the past
And I too had my young years but nothing ever last
On looking back the Seasons how quickly the years have gone
Old age is fast approaching and the clock ticks on and on.
The future is the children's the children of today
They have the gift of youth with them though youth with them won't stay
On looking back decades from now when time has left them slow
They will wonder as I do where did the years to go.
The years are catching up one me and time has left me gray
And the future is the children's that would be true to say
The people in their sixties are running out of time
And few of them will be living when today's children are in their prime.
The future is the children's and to them alone belong
And those who will tell you differently have somehow got it wrong
But the hands of time keep turning and time on none does wait
And all of us are branded with an invisible use by date.
poem by Francis Duggan

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Stargazer
High noon
Oh Id sell my soul for water
Nine years worth
Of breakin my back
Theres no sun in the shadow of the wizard
See how he glides
Why hes lighter than air
Oh I see his face
Where is your star
Is it far, is it far, is it far
When do we leave
I believe, yes, I believe
* in the heat and the rain
With whips and chains
Just to see him fly
So many die
We built a tower of stone
With out flesh and bone
Just to see him fly
Dont know why
Now where do we go
Hot wind moving fast across the desert
We feel that our time has arrived
The world spins while we put his wing together
A tower of stone to take him straight to the sky
Oh I see his face
Where is your star
It is far, is it far, is it far
When do we leave, yeah
I believe, I believe
*
All eyes see the figure of the wizard
As he climbs to the top of the world
No sound as he falls instead of rising
Time standing still
Then theres blood on the sand
Oh I see his face
Where was your star
Was it far, was it far
When did we leave
We believe, we believe, we believe
In the heat and rain
With whips and chains
To see him fly
So many die
We built a tower of stone
With out flesh and bone
To see him fly
But why, it dont rain
With all our chains,
Did so many die
Just to see him fly
Look at my flesh and bone
Now look, look, look, look
Look at this tower of stone
I see a rainbow rising
Look there on the horizon
And Im coming home
Coming home, Im coming home
Time is standing still
He gave me back my will
Oh, oh, oh, oh
Going home
Im going home
My eyes are bleeding
And my heart is weeping
We still hope, we still hope, oh
Take me back
He gave me back my will
Oh, oh, oh, oh
Going home
Im going home
My eyes are bleeding
And my heart is weeping
We still hope, we still hope, oh
Take me back, take me back
Back to my home, oh, oh...
song performed by by Rainbow

Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Death of Magnus Kep
It was ages since I'd seen him,
So I felt quite out of step
With the old Etruscan sculptor
That I knew as Magnus Kep,
He was brooding in an alley
By an old Byzantine store,
Then he saw me, and he beckoned,
And we walked along the shore.
He was hunting there for marble,
For his studio in Graz,
But we stopped in at a wine bar
And we sampled their Shiraz,
And he told me things he'd never said
To anyone before,
About why he searched the Holy Land,
And ruins, by the score.
'I can see their shapes within each block
Of marble, ' he had said,
'And I know that they are waiting
To be freed, because they're dead,
But they lived so long ago that they
Are patient, in despair,
Though their limbs are still as supple,
And there's fragrance in their hair.'
I was sure the heat had got to him,
His eyes had fairly gleamed,
And I thought his mind disordered,
But I listened to his theme,
He was looking for the marble
That contained the wanton form
Of a pornographic priestess
He had glimpsed the year before.
'She was lying in the harbour,
At the bottom of the sea,
Only fifteen feet of water
Separated her from me,
She had lived a thousand years
Before the walls had tumbled in
To the harbour, where she frolicked
In the service of the king.'
Then we stopped and peered over
At the slight and gentle swell,
Down and through the clear water,
There were pillars, where they fell,
There were blackened slabs of marble lying
Scorched, as if by fire,
Where the mighty Alexander
Burned the city known as Tyre!
'Can you see her there? ' he pointed,
And I saw a marble slab,
Lying half upon a pillar,
It was worn, and dull and drab,
'Do you see that haughty forehead,
Do you see her pointed breasts? '
But I only saw a weathered stone,
He conjured all the rest.
We parted, and I heard that he
Had raised that mighty stone,
Had shipped it back to Graz where he
Could work on it alone,
The seasons came and went before
I thought to follow on,
And asked about his sculpture then,
His eyes had fairly shone.
He led me to the basement and
He showed me through the door,
He'd chiseled out just half of it,
That nearest to the floor,
The woman's legs were parted and
Inviting to the king,
Her vulva gaping proudly like
Some fertile offering.
It took my breath away, I stood
And scanned those supple thighs,
Like frankincense and myrrh they were
A balm upon my eyes,
I saw that she was locked in there,
The sculptor hadn't lied,
He'd simply chipped the stone away
And there she was, inside!
I asked him then, 'How long before
We get to see her face? '
He said it didn't matter, he
Would try to lend her grace,
'She's painted like a whore, ' he said,
'Back then, it was the thing,
Her duty was to paint her face
To please her lord, the king! '
For months I sat and wondered how
She'd looked, as she emerged,
She'd lain in stone three thousand years
When Kep had felt the urge
To chisel from her marble vault
Her buttocks, waist and thighs,
Reveal again to living men
The wonder of their eyes!
I never saw Kep whole again,
Confusing? Yes, I know!
They said they'd had to lay him out
Down at his studio.
His head was in a basket, where they'd
Shown him disrespect,
To free him from the fingers she
Had gripped... around his neck!
2 July 2010
poem by David Lewis Paget

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Voice On The Wind
I
She walks with the wind on the windy height
When the rocks are loud and the waves are white,
And all night long she calls through the night,
'O my children, come home!'
Her bleak gown, torn as a tattered cloud,
Tosses around her like a shroud,
While over the deep her voice rings loud,-
'O my children, come home, come home!
O my children, come home!'
II
Who is she who wanders alone,
When the wind drives sheer and the rain is blown?
Who walks all night and makes her moan,
'O my children, come home!'
Whose face is raised to the blinding gale;
Whose hair blows black and whose eyes are pale,
While over the world goes by her wail,-
'O my children, come home, come home!
O my children, come home!'
III
She walks with the wind in the windy wood;
The dark rain drips from her hair and hood,
And her cry sobs by, like a ghost pursued,
'O my children, come home!'
Where the trees loom gaunt and the rocks stretch drear,
The owl and the fox crouch back with fear,
As wild through the wood her voice they hear,-
'O my children, come home, come home!
O my children, come home!'
IV
Who is she who shudders by
When the boughs blow bare and the dead leaves fly?
Who walks all night with her wailing cry,
'O my children, come home!'
Who, strange of look, and wild of tongue,
With wan feet wounded and hands wild-wrung,
Sweeps on and on with her cry, far-flung,-
'O my children, come home, come home!
O my children, come home!'
V
'Tis the Spirit of Autumn, no man sees,
The mother of Death and of Mysteries,
Who cries on the wind all night to these,
'O my children, come home!'
The Spirit of Autumn, pierced with pain,
Calling her children home again,
Death and Dreams, through ruin and rain,-
'O my children, come home, come home!
O my children, come home!'
poem by Madison Julius Cawein

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
What The Stone Said
This stone: scraps of wet earth
still clinging to it;
rounded, greyish; large enough
to fit into my palm as if,
cradled there, it’s enough part of me
to tell me that it’s more than
inert matter without consciousness..
its pleasing roundness – warming
in my hand – tells me a little
of its history:
once it was one of many, jostled
over years or centuries in
a river or an ocean bed;
to be thrown up, again and again,
from the maw of breaking, angry wave
onto a beach; then at some high tide,
pulled back again;
it’s covered with its history:
a mass of scratches where a fiercer sand
from the hierarchy of stone’s hardnesses,
scratched it; to be soothed and smoothed
by its fellow sufferers on the watered bed.
Warm in my cradling palm, it shares
or so it seems, my own consciousness:
the same consciousness as all Creation’s wonders,
but here in supreme, uncomplaining,
inexpressive, yielding pure obedience:
a sermon in a stone; awaiting future call
to be raised up a man..
no wonder - as all children know –
‘beach’ (and can’t you hear there,
tread of feet on hard, resistant, partially
yielding stones?)
and ‘shore’ (and can’t you hear there
the waves smoothe the sand,
then draw back to crash again
like a drawn breath of astonishment?
- as children know: beach and shore
full of their shared consciousness;
God’s playground which he shares with them.
That was what the stone said.
poem by Michael Shepherd

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Jackie
(Sinead O'connor cover )
Jackie left on a cold, dark night
Telling me he'd be home
Sailed the seas for a hundred years
And left me all alone
Now I've been dead for twenty years
I've been washing the sand with my ghostly tears
Searching the shores for my Jackie-oh
And I remember the day that the young man came
Said, your Jackie's gone, he is lost in the rain
And I ran to the beach
And laid me down
You're all wrong, I said
And they stared to the sand
That man knows the sea like the back of his hand
He'll be back some time
Laughing at you
And I've been waiting all this time
For my man to come, take his hand in mine
And lead me away
To unsailed shores
I've been washing the sand with my salty tears
Searching the shore these long years
And I'll walk the sea forever more
'til I find my Jackie-oh
Jackie-oh
Jackie-oh
Jackie-oh
song performed by by Placebo

Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Stone Dead Forever
(originally recorded by motorhead)
Get on!
You think you see me, in the glass
You think you hear me, better listen fast
I think I see you, gone to seed
Think your reason, is your guilt and greed
Youre out there on your own
Your face is turned to stone
What ever happened to your life?
Stone dead forever
All right!
Youre a financial wizard, yeah, a top tycoon
Youre a sweet long lizard, with a silver spoon
You know youve never had it, quite so good
And you didnt know, that you even could
Your time has come to own
Your touch turned to gold
What ever happened to your life?
Stone dead forever
All right!
Its been a long time, its been a long long wait
And you caught your fingers, in the pearly gates
You better leave your number, and well call you
You know your problem, aint exactly new
Your time has come today
Your face has turned to hay
What ever happened to your life?
Stone dead forever
Thats right!
Yo!
[aaah...]
song performed by by Metallica

Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Beyond The Temple ('78 Demo)
Beyond the temple
There lies a tomb with a king from long ago
A traveler from a distant planet
Ten thousand years or so
The legend tells of an agin' man
Whose city he built alone
Till the pirates of our western world
Tore it down stone by stone
The clouds are gettin' heavy
As he points unto the sky
But with the guidance of his finger
He let the lightning fly
So don't turn around, don't turn around
Lightning don't strike twice
Don't turn around, don't turn around
Death is a very high price
He gathered up his people
And he took them underground
To the caves of silvery water
Where they never could be found
The king came to the surface
Could not believe what he had found
The temple left in ruins
His city knocked to the ground
He went back to his people
Sad news he had to tell
The only justice for the king
Was to put these men in hell
So don't turn around, don't turn around
Lightning don't strike twice
Don't turn around, don't turn around
Death is a very high price
His face showing sorrow
His heart full of grief
His life's work in ruins
Destroyed by a thief
His people just sit around
His children just cry
The king's mind is all confused
Just wonderin' why
The temple split in half
And scattered through the desert
The dust had risen in the air
The race of people had to live in devastation
Why wasn't he even there?
Message from the gods to gather up his people
The kingdom couldn't lose them there
That's when all the gods and all are livin' peaceful
Just a galaxy away
The king rose up from underground
To light the darkened sky
Red lights, green lights, blue lights flashing
It seemed a mile high
As it lifted from the ground
And soared into the air
The king looked at what might have been
A world that needed care
A storm had risen quickly
Across the take of hope
Now there's no trace of the king
Just a memory carved in stone
So don't turn around, don't turn around
Lightning don't strike twice
Don't turn around, don't turn around
Death is a very high price
Don't turn around, don't turn around
Lightning don't strike twice
Don't turn around, don't turn around
Death is a very high price
song performed by by Def Leppard

Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Strange Meeting Ii
Deep down in the depths of forgotten dreams
So far away so long ago it seems
The memory comes of a distant beach
Pale sand stretching far from reach
It was then I found my princess of the sand.
As I traced the foam, peebles beneath my feet
I looked behind, I saw this one so sweet
She came to me and I saw in her eyes
The heavy toll of a thousand eyes
I called her my princess of the sand.
She stared at me and my mind was in a maze
As we moved along in a summer sea-dream haze
She moved her mouth but there came no sound
The message she brought can never be found
But I called her my princess of the sand.
One moment we walked with the night breeze in our face
Then I looked, shed gone. of her presence there was no trace
Where she went or came from who can know
Or if shell ever return to help me know
Who she is, my princess of the sand.
Sometime when the summer nights come back
Ill go back to the sea, follow that sandy track
Ill look around, hope to find
That strange young dream, close behind
Ill call her my princess of the sand.
song performed by by Nick Drake

Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
See The Children
(la la la la la la la...)
I stopped the car
The other day
I had to ask a little
Girl the way
I thought she'd show me
Better if she got inside
And once inside
I thought i'd taker her
For a little ride...
So i see the children
Feel the children
See the children
Feel the children
All the time...
See the children
Feel the children
See the children
Feel the children
All the time...
I'm a supermarket santa
Underneath the christmas tree
The little one all like to
Come and sit upon my knee
I have to hold them tightly
'cause they fall to the floor
A little concern ain't
Against the law...
So i see the children
Feel the children
See the children
Feel the children
All the time
See the children
(something something something??) all the time
I pass by the infant school
Every single day
I push sweeties through the fence
But the kids just run way
I only want to talk with them
And join in their fun
But all the little children do
Is run run run run run run run run...
(la la la la la la, la la la la la la..etc..)
See the children
Feel the children all the time..
See the children
Feel the children
See the children
Feel the children
All the time........
song performed by by Cure

Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Guido Sebaldi
Guido Sebaldi the mason
Worked at a house of stone:
Guido Sebaldi the mason
Sand at his work alone.
Till a stranger, he said unto him
As he hammer'd the stone one day'
'Guido Sebaldi the mason,
Hark to the words I say!'
'Leave thou this work, fit only
For oxen that draw the plough:
No longer Sebaldi the mason,
Guido the sculptor thou!'
Then Guido Sebaldi the mason
Look'd on his work in shame.
And 'Lo,' he said, 'I am lusty,
I will build me a noble name.'
Guido Sebaldi the sculptor
Toil'd till his heart grew sore.
Guido Sebaldi the sculptor
Sang at his work no more.
Vainly Sebaldi the mason
Hammer'd the senseless stone.
Vainly Sebaldi the mason
Sigh'd at his work alone.
His hands were ready and skillful,
And his days with toil were rife,
But the soul of the master was needed
To waken the stone to life.
Sadly Sebaldi the mason
Went back to the house of stone;
And his brow once more grew cheery
As he sat at his work alone.
But yet he was always thinking
Of hopes that were long since o'er;
And Guido Sebaldi the mason
Sang at his work no more.
poem by Cicely Fox Smith

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!