The Black Dog
When I was mischievous and playful,
My dreadful uncle made me afraid of dog,
Soon I became horrid and pale,
My mother sheltered me in her lap,
Singing a lullaby lulled me asleep,
I felt flying over the forest,
Thick, dark and shadowy,
Landing into the deep steeps,
Chasing a black dog behind.
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Birds Bring Beauty
Birds, birds everywhere
flying through the sky without a care.
Reminding us how graceful life can be
as they fly from tree to tree.
Singing so very happily.
Singing songs of love and light
flying gracefully with delight.
Landing on their claws outstretched
landing in their straw filled nests.
Feeding their offspring worms from dirt
protecting them so they don't get hurt.
Pushing them to leave the nest
so they can fly like all the rest.
Flying high and flying low
they will be like their parents on the go.
Writenn by Christina Sunrise on June 18,2012
poem by Christina Sunrise
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Birds Live Peacefully
Birds, birds everywhere
flying through the sky without a care.
Reminding us how graceful life can be
as they fly from tree to tree.
Singing so very happily.
Singing songs of love and light
flying gracefully with delight.
Landing on their claws outstretched
landing in their straw filled nests.
Feeding their offspring worms from dirt
protecting them so they don't get hurt.
Pushing them to leave the nest
so they can fly like all the rest.
Flying high and flying low
they will be like their parents on the go.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on June 18,2012
poem by Suzae Chevalier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wile Watching the Black and White TV
Your old man
came into the lounge
where you were watching
black and white TV
and your mother was standing
talking to an uncle
it's the baker
your old man said
he wants his £50
what £50?
your mother asked
the £50 I owe him
well pay him
your mother said
I can't
I don't have it
you watched
the cowboy film
with half interest
you took a glance
at the debtor
well tell him
you'll pay him
next week
your mother said
I told him that
last week
your old man said
what did you want
to borrow £50
from the baker for?
your mother asked
her cheeks getting flushed
to buy my new suit
what new suit?
the one I'm having made
you noticed
your old man's
moustache flicker
and he stroked it
as he did
when cornered
your mother
breathed heavy
and you looked
at the uncle
ok
the uncle said
here's the £50
go pay him
what you owe
to get him off your back
but you better pay me back
or I'll bust your head
sure I will
your old man said
going out of the room
clutching the money
in his palm
your mother sighed
and the uncle
put away his wallet
into an inside pocket
and you saw that one
of the cowboys
on the black and white
TV screen
had been shot
and died
the other looked angry
and ugly
and mean.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The magic forest
At the Bois de Boulogne lies magic
Magic that cannot be evitable
Magic that lures people into the evergreen forest
In the forest, soft earth is like a comfy bed
Meadows of grass are green sheets for the bed
If you happen to lie down on the bed
The sunlight hugs your body gently like a mother
Your eyes are heavy weights, unable to keep your eyes open
You fall into the sweetest dream as time goes by…
Night walked into the forest as day walked out of the forest
The pale moon is like a glass eye of a witch staring at you
The dark magic falls into the forest
Lusty monsters fill the magic forest
And the magic forest falls asleep…
A Lullaby
The stars are twinkling in the skies,
The earth is lost in slumbers deep;
So hush, my sweet, and close thine eyes,
And let me lull thy soul to sleep.
Compose thy dimpled hands to rest,
And like a little birdling lie
Secure within thy cozy nest
Upon my loving mother breast,
And slumber to my lullaby,
So hushaby--O hushaby.
The moon is singing to a star
The little song I sing to you;
The father sun has strayed afar,
As baby's sire is straying too.
And so the loving mother moon
Sings to the little star on high;
And as she sings, her gentle tune
Is borne to me, and thus I croon
For thee, my sweet, that lullaby
Of hushaby--O hushaby.
There is a little one asleep
That does not hear his mother's song;
But angel watchers--as I weep--
Surround his grave the night-tide long.
And as I sing, my sweet, to you,
Oh, would the lullaby I sing--
The same sweet lullaby he knew
While slumb'ring on this bosom too--
Were borne to him on angel's wing!
So hushaby--O hushaby.
poem by Eugene Field
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rapid train [Acceleratul]
Over beeches rising high
The cold twilight gently falls.
The dumb evening passes by
And through forest quickly crawls.
At the sunset, in the dark,
One can see a ruby spark
Among branches thick and dull...
From the foliage thick retreats
Still are heard in this deep lull
Little birds that sing in tweets...
Cold and pale in the clear sky
Many stars now catch the eye.
***
Suddenly comes from the hills
Rumor deep, without delay,
Flat and very far away,
Like the whisper of a spring
Heading for the water mills...
On the floodplain starts to swing
Fills the other vales with thrills
And with clamor...
Here it is!...
A black lightning, sleek and long,
Carried by the wings of storm
Shakes the ground quiet and warm
Running quickly all along...
Or rather it flies or swims
And at once will disappear –
Eats the road and spits flames bright
And in clouds as black as night
Cuts the forest without fear...
It is gone...
And on the plain
Forging noise will stop again
Slowly, until no one hears...
In the distance...
Disappears...
***
One by one, come out with ease
Of the bushes, of the trees,
Many birdies half asleep,
Looking not at all prepared,
Just to peep,
For they are scared:
– Hey! What happened around here?...
Chirp in chorus, loud and clear,
Wrens and finches from the rear.
And a tit, up a dwarf beech,
With its feathers ruffled much
Answers with an eerie screech
And upset tries to explain:
– Well, it's nothing weird as such,
Has just passed the rapid train...
poem by George Topîrceanu, translated by Octavian Cocoş
Submitted by Octavian Cocoş
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The Cat and the Rat
The pudgy, playful cat said to the rather weary rat,
“I have to keep chasing you so that I don’t get too fat.”
The rather weary rat said he didn’t understand.
“Don’t you chase me for the next meal you’ve planned? ”
The cat laughed and asked, “Why would I want that?
Without you, who would I chase, you silly, weary rat? ”
“I’m tired and sure don’t care if you do get fat.”
Said the more than rather angry weary rat.
At that the rather weary rat decided to ask,
“Can we be friends or is that too tough a task? ”
The pudgy, playful cat frowned and wanted to know,
“Weary rat, just how fat do you want me to grow?
If I stop chasing you, that won’t be too wise,
Since you’re the only way that I can exercise.”
The rather weary rat started to sob and wail.
All this running had made him quite weak and frail.
Then he had an idea that might stop the cat from getting fat.
So he simply asked the pudgy, “Why don't you chase you
Then you can chase it in every place you want to be.”
The pudgy, playful cat had never, ever thought of that.
Now for sure he knew he would never become fat.
He smiled and said, “My chasing you must end
Because, rather weary rat, you are now my best friend!
poem by Gregory Huyette
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Lullaby
Now the day is done,
Now the shepherd sun
Drives his white flocks from the sky;
Now the flowers rest
On their mother's breast,
Hushed by her low lullaby.
Now the glowworms glance,
Now the fireflies dance,
Under fern-boughs green and high;
And the western breeze
To the forest trees
Chants a tuneful lullaby.
Now 'mid shadows deep
Falls blessed sleep,
Like dew from the summer sky;
And the whole earth dreams,
In the moon's soft beams,
While night breathes a lullaby.
Now, birdlings, rest,
In your wind-rocked nest,
Unscared by the owl's shrill cry;
For with folded wings
Little Brier swings,
And singeth your lullaby.
poem by Louisa May Alcott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Nowhere To Be Seen
The flying bird is up high in the sky to take a view,
But my lover is nowhere to be seen;
So take a message to my lover if you find her,
For in the thick forest i rest my head.
The green vegetation is around me and the blue sky above me!
Oh, how i hope that you would find her;
For this thick forest is my lonely place,
But maybe this flying bird could find her one day.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Mother's Love
My little angel I'll rock you to sleep
I'll sing you a lullaby of baba black sheep
Don't be naughty, don't peep through the sheets
There wont be any candies for you as a treat
Now the day is done and the night is deep
The fox are howling beneath the trees
The cow just jumped over the moon
Humpty Dumpty fell down holding a balloon
The mice hid in a burrow now to sleep
And a sheep was lost by little Bo Peep
Now close your eyes and dream away
Of stars and moon and the Milky Way
Ah! ...I now see you falling asleep
a mother's love is eternal peace
Tucked in the corner and sunk in so deep
an angel sleeping so sound asleep
poem by Meena Mustafa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Black Uncle
My uncle is a blackman but,
My mother is a whitelady;
And i have now met my black uncle after all these years!
Life to us is now like a tree with many fruits,
And life also is about how we do care about each other;
For he is an interesting person to meet.
I was glad to sit next to him when he paid us a visit,
And my days are now like the sunshine up high!
Blessings to the heavens above,
And blessings to the deep below;
And like a wild donkey on a terraced hill,
I was glad to meet him at long last.
My uncle is a blackman and my mother is a whitelady,
To him i have finally met today.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lullaby, Oh, Lullaby!
Lullaby, oh, lullaby!
Flowers are closed and lambs are sleeping;
Lullaby, oh, lullaby!
Stars are up, the moon is peeping;
Lullaby, oh, lullaby!
While the birds are silence keeping,
(Lullaby, oh, lullaby!)
Sleep, my baby, fall a-sleeping,
Lullaby, oh, lullaby!
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Upon My Lap My Sovereign Sits
Upon my lap my sovereign sits
And sucks upon my breast;
Meantime his love maintains my life
And gives my sense her rest.
Sing lullaby, my little boy,
Sing lullaby, mine only joy!
When thou hast taken thy repast,
Repose, my babe, on me;
So may thy mother and thy nurse
Thy cradle also be.
Sing lullaby, my little boy,
Sing lullaby, mine only joy!
I grieve that duty doth not work
All that my wishing would,
Because I would not be to thee
But in the best I should.
Sing lullaby, my little boy,
Sing lullaby, mine only joy!
Yet as I am, and as I may,
I must and will be thine,
Though all too little for thyself
Vouchsafing to be mine.
Sing lullaby, my little boy,
Sing lullaby, mine only joy!
poem by Martin Peerson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bare-Back Rider (A Lucid Dream)
He was a stallion
A big black horse, I was
Astride his back, muscular, bare
Hanging on to mere tufts
of his shiny black hair
I don’t know how I got there
It seemed like a dream
Me on this big horse galloping
through a dark forest thick with trees
with gnarly branches reaching for me
Terrified I crouch as low as I can
Try to grip the horse’s flesh
but I couldn't so I hold on
to his mane for dear life
and with a prayer I close my eyes
Don’t throw me off
Don’t let this forest take me
Don't leave me here
This nightmare will devour me
Please go slow dear horse
Don't stumble and fall
Be careful of the rocks
And branches hanging low
But he would not go slow, oh no!
He was on a mission
To where I didn’t know
I had no choice but to hold on
Clinging for my life
Praying the branches won’t
Hit him in the eyes
So I stay there like that, eyes shut
My body as close to to his as I could get
My face pressed to his neck
I cry, wracked with fear
Certain I would die right there
After a while, after what seemed like ages
And nothing happening
Only the sound of hoofs
and the wind whipping
I suddenly realize...
This horse is bigger than me
If the branches don’t hit him
How can they hit me
He is not afraid of the dark
If he's not afraid of dying
Why should I be
Slowly I sit upright
Slowly I open my eyes
The scenery had changed
The rider and the horse are now
One and the same
poem by Sonya Florentino
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Flying
Forever is ending
But you see a deer
Love isn't bending
It's gone with the beer
And I know that I am feeling better
Mary wants to love me so I'll let her
Chains and the irons
Have fallen off of me
I am much much lighter
Everyone can see
And I know that I am feeling better
Suzi wants to love me so I'll let her
I'm flying
I'm flying
Look at me
I'm flying
I'm flying higher than ever before
Ain't lying
No crying
Look at me
I'm flying
I'm flying higher than ever before
Singing so loudly
I'm drowning out the birds
Singing nothing special
Just any happy words
And I know that I'm feeling better
Sally wants to love me so I'll let her
I'm flying
I'm flying
Look at me
I'm flying
I'm flying higher than ever before
Ain't lying
No crying
Look at me
I'm flying
I'm flying higher than ever before
I'm gliding
I'm soaring
I'm riding
I'm sweeping
I'm flying high
I'm flying
And I know that I am feeling better
Mary wants to love me so I'll let her
I'm flying
I'm flying
Look at me
I'm flying
I'm flying higher than ever before
Ain't lying
No crying
Look at me
I'm flying
I'm flying higher than ever before
I'm flying
I'm flying
Look at me
I'm flying
I'm flying higher than ever before
Ain't lying
No crying
Look at me
I'm flying
I'm flying higher than ever before
I'm flying
I'm flying
Look at me
I'm flying
I'm flying higher than ever before
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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black as night, Elvyra
Watch out they'll say,
she'll come and get you,
black as night Elvyra,
will take your soul,
leaving you with nothing,
you'll never see another,
as dark and souless as her,
you wait and see,
i know what they'll say of me,
black as night Elvyra
They'll say she dances,
with the devil,
that she plays with fire,
that black as nite Elvyra,
you wait and see,
i know what they'll say of me,
Black as night Elvyra
look at her they'll say,
how dark with doom and gloom,
black as night elvyra,
look at her face,
pale as pale,
her black lips,
her black eyes too,
you wait and see,
i know what they'll say of me,
Black as night Elvyra
skinny and pale they'll say,
with raven black hair to opose,
Black as night Elvyra,
she knows your secrets,
whispers from your depths,
watch out for me,
you wait and see,
I'm Black as night Elvyra
poem by Jess Terry
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Water Lilies
I gathered them—the lilies pure and pale,
The golden-hearted lilies, virgin fair,
And in a vase of crystal, placed them where
Their perfumes might unceasingly exhale.
High in my lonely tent above the swale,
Above the shimmering mere and blossoms there,
I solaced with their sweetness my despair,
And fed with dews their beauteous petals frail.
But when the aspens felt the evening breeze,
And shadows 'gan across the lake to creep,
When hermit-thrushes to the Oreades
Sang vesper orisons, from cloisters deep,—
My lilies, lulled by native sympathies,
Upfolded their white leaves and fell asleep.
poem by Florence Earle Coates from Poems (1898)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Song: XI
Mother, mother, do you not hear?
Mother, they come; there is news to tell!
– Give me your hands, my daughter dear:
'Tis but a ship that saileth well.
Mother dear, have a care, give heed!
–They go, my daughter, away they speed.
Mother, the danger is sore, alas!
– Child, my child, it will quickly pass.
Mother, mother, She draweth near!
– It is down in the harbour, daughter dear.
Mother, mother, She opens the door!
– Child, they go, to return no more.
Mother, She enters! I am afraid!
– Child, they now have the anchor weighed.
Mother, I hear Her speaking low.
– Child, my child, it is they that go.
Mother, She makes the stars go dark!
– Child, 'tis the sails of a shadowy bark.
Mother, She knocks at the casement still!
– Child, maybe it is fastened ill. . . .
Mother, mother, my sight grows dim. . . .
– Child, they sail for the open sea.
On every hand I can hear but Him. . . .
– O child, what is it, and who is He?
poem by Maurice Polydore-Marie-Bernard Maeterlinck
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In Perfect Harmony
In a world so far away
At the end of a closing day
A little child was born and raised
Deep in the forest on a hidden place
Mother never saw his face
Ancient spirits of the forest
Made him king of elves and trees
He was the only human being
Who lived in harmony
In perfect harmony
The woods protected
song performed by by Within Temptation from Mother Earth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lullaby
Lullaby! Lullaby!
There’s a tower strong and high
Built of oak and brick and stone,
Stands before a wood alone.
The doors are of the oak so brown
As any ale in Oxford town,
The walls are builded warm and thick
Of the old red Roman brick,
The good grey stone is over all
In arch and floor of the tower tall.
And maidens three are living there
All in the upper chamber fair,
Hung with silver, hung with pall,
And stories painted on the wall.
And softly goes the whirring loom
In my ladies’ upper room,
For they shall spin both night and day
Until the stars do pass away.
But every night at evening.
The window open wide they fling,
And one of them says a word they know
And out as three white swans they go,
And the murmuring of the woods is drowned
In the soft wings’ whirring sound,
As they go flying round, around,
Singing in swans’ voices high
A lonely, lovely lullaby.
poem by Clive Staples Lewis
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