Haste
Haste is bargained for trust
As love of hesitation is big.
You create a talking tool
For your haste to be wept
So that our words are leapt
And the language is lingo for disaster.
poem by Naveed Akram
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The Rose
I.
Sweet serene skye-like Flower,
Haste to adorn her Bower :
From thy long clowdy bed,
Shoot forth thy damaske head.
II.
New-startled blush of Flora !
The griefe of pale Aurora,
Who will contest no more ;
Haste, haste, to strowe her floore.
III.
Vermilion Ball that's given
From lip to lip in Heaven ;
Love's Couches cover-led :
Haste, haste, to make her bed.
IV.
Dear Offspring of pleas'd Venus,
And Jollie, plumpe Silenus ;
Haste, haste, to decke the Haire
Of th' only, sweetly Faire.
V.
See ! Rosie is her Bower,
Her floore is all this Flower ;
Her Bed a Rosie nest
By a Bed of Roses prest.
VI.
But early as she dresses,
Why fly you her bright Tresses ?
Ah ! I have found I feare ;
Because her Cheekes are neere.
poem by Richard Lovelace
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To Lucasta. The Rose.
I.
Sweet serene skye-like flower,
Haste to adorn her bower;
From thy long clowdy bed
Shoot forth thy damaske head.
II.
New-startled blush of FLORA!
The griefe of pale AURORA,
Who will contest no more,
Haste, haste, to strowe her floore.
III.
Vermilion ball, that's given
From lip to lip in Heaven;
Loves couches cover-led,
Haste, haste, to make her bed.
IV.
Dear offspring of pleas'd VENUS,
And jollie plumpe SILENUS;
Haste, haste, to decke the haire,
Of th' only sweetly faire.
V.
See! rosie is her bower,
Her floore is all this flower;
Her bed a rosie nest
By a bed of roses prest.
VI.
But early as she dresses,
Why fly you her bright tresses?
Ah! I have found, I feare;
Because her cheekes are neere.
poem by Richard Lovelace
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To Lucasta, the Rose
I.
Sweet serene skye-like flower,
Haste to adorn her bower;
From thy long clowdy bed
Shoot forth thy damaske head.
II.
New-startled blush of Flora!
The griefe of pale Aurora,
Who will contest no more,
Haste, haste, to strowe her floore.
III.
Vermilion ball, that's given
From lip to lip in Heaven;
Loves couches cover-led,
Haste, haste, to make her bed.
IV.
Dear offspring of pleas'd Venus,
And jollie plumpe Silenus;
Haste, haste, to decke the haire,
Of th' only sweetly faire.
V.
See! rosie is her bower,
Her floore is all this flower;
Her bed a rosie nest
By a bed of roses prest.
VI.
But early as she dresses,
Why fly you her bright tresses?
Ah! I have found, I feare;
Because her cheekes are neere.
poem by Richard Lovelace
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Each little word
Each little word
~
Words said in haste
Angry little words
Looking to vent emotion
Shouting, screaming
Get it out, set it free
Then repent later on
Wondering why what was said
Was said anyway
Untrusting words
Regretful sounding
Sought only to attack
Or defend something, someone
They have no thought
No relevance behind them
Spat with venom
Into the world, a page
Let them rest, wash away
Forget them all
Each little word
Apologetic at times
Those words said in haste
Are words wasted
poem by Matthew Holloway
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What Child Is This
What child is this
that lay to rest
on Mary's lap is sleeping
Whom Angels greet with anthem sweet
and shepard's watch are keeping
This , this is Christ the King
Whom shepards guard
and Angels sing
Haste, haste to bring him love
The babe, the son of Mary
So bring him incence, gold and merth
Come peasants king to honor him
The King of Kings salvation brings
and loving arms enthrone him
This, this is Christ the King
Whom shepards guard
And Angels sing
Haste, haste to bring him love
The babe, the son of Mary
This, this is Christ the King
Whom shepards guard
and Angels sing
Haste, haste to bring him love
The babe, the son of Mary
song performed by by Vince Gill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Child Is This
What child is this
that lay to rest
on Mary's lap is sleeping
Whom Angels greet with anthem sweet
and shepard's watch are keeping
This , this is Christ the King
Whom shepards guard
and Angels sing
Haste, haste to bring him love
The babe, the son of Mary
So bring him incence, gold and merth
Come peasants king to honor him
The King of Kings salvation brings
and loving arms enthrone him
This, this is Christ the King
Whom shepards guard
And Angels sing
Haste, haste to bring him love
The babe, the son of Mary
This, this is Christ the King
Whom shepards guard
and Angels sing
Haste, haste to bring him love
The babe, the son of Mary
song performed by by Vince Gill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Make Haste
Make haste, make haste, no time to waste,
the sandman’s on the move!
The minutes chased, missspent, misplaced,
swift scattered are, remove
from life the paste thats interlaced
with love to leave the groove
by others faced with fears encased
within themselves! Improve
your chances paced by those who’ve raced
where most may fear, disprove
the double-faced, minds [s]oft, effaced.
let no one disapprove
Strong spirits graced with soul true, chaste,
which ever must reprove
all evil based on base, poor taste, -
which ever seeks to prove
Good may be traced, Right be embraced
in confidence – for you’ve
the need to haste to truth, yes haste,
for Time is on the move!
poem by Jonathan Robin
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What Child Is This?
What child is this, who laid to rest
on Mary's lap is sleeping?
whom angels greet with anthems sweet
while shepherds watch are keeping?
This, this is Christ the King
whom shepherds guard and angels sing
haste, haste to bring him laud
the babe, the son of Mary
Why lies He in such mean state
where ox and and ass are feeding?
good christian, fear for sinners here
the silent word is pleading
this, this is Christ the King
whom shepherds guard and angels sing
haste, haste to bring him laud
the babe, the son of Mary
Nails, spear, shall, pierce him through
the cross be bome, for me, for you
hail, hail, the world made flesh
the babe, the son of Mary
this, this is Christ the King
whom shepherds guard and angels sing
haste, haste to bring him laud
the babe, the son of Mary
So bring him incense, gold and myrrh
come peasant, King to own him
the King of Kings salvation brings
let loving hearts enthrone him
this, this is Christ the King
whom shepherds guard and angels sing
haste, haste to bring him laud
the babe, the son of Mary
Raise, raise, the song on high
the Virgin sings her llullaby
joy, joy for Christ is born
the babe, the son of Mary
this, this is Christ the King
whom shepherds guard and angels sing
haste, haste to bring him laud
the babe, the son of Mary
song performed by by Donna Summer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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With Harmony
Compassionate and merciful,
Slow to anger and of great kindness;
But like virgin clothed with the linen of love.
The misconception of acts!
They came in haste and left in a haste;
And i am alive to warm you up with my love,
For the hunter knows where his gun is.
Do not be afraid my love,
Because i am always beside you;
And today if your love is ripped then,
Let us share it with harmony and care.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Also, they don't understand - writing is language. The use of language. The language to create image, the language to create drama. It requires a skill of learning how to use language.
quote by John Milius
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Child Is This
What child is this who laid to rest
On Mary's lap is sleeping
Whom angels greet with anthem sweet
While shepherds watch are keeping
This is Christ the Lord
Whom shepherds guard and angels sing
Haste, haste to bring him laud
The babe, the son of Mary
Why lies he in such mean estate
Where ox and ass are feeding
Good Christian fear, for sinners here
The silent Word is pleading
This is Christ the Lord
Whom shepards guard and angels sing
Haste,haste to bring him laud
The babe, the son of Mary
So bring Him incense, gold, and myrh
Come peasant king to own Him
The King of Kings, salvation brings
Let loving hearts enthrone Him
This is Christ the Lord
Whom shepherds guard and angels sing
Haste, haste to bring him laud
The babe, the son of Mary
song performed by by Jessica Simpson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Child Is This?
What child is this
Who lay to rest
On marys lap is sleeping
Whom angels greet with anthomsweet
While shepards watch our keeping
This, this is christ the king
Whom shepards gaurd and angels sing
Haste, haste to bring him grace
The babe, the son of mary
So bring him incense, gold, and myrrh
Come peasant king to own him
The king of kings salvation brings
Let loving hearts enthrone him
This, this is christ the king
Whom shepards gaurd and angels sing
Haste, haste to bring him grace
The babe, the son of mary
This, this is christ the king
Whom shepards gaurd and angels sing
Haste, haste to bring him grace
The babe, the son of mary
The babe, the son of mary
song performed by by Martina Mcbride
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Unborn
What could it have been...?
Musing rests on age pre-life
Lightless gestation...
Haste-born ere God could light full
Half visioned birth banged in haste
poem by Indira Renganathan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rose D'Amour
Oh haste while roses bloom below,
Oh haste while pale and bright above
The sun and moon alternate glow,
To pluck the rose of love.
Yea, give the morning to the lark,
The nightingale its glimmering grove,
Give moonlight to the hungry dark,
But to man's heart give love!
Then haste while still the roses blow,
And pale and bright in heaven above
The sun and moon alternate glow,
Pluck, pluck the rose of love.
poem by Mathilde Blind
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Song I
OH haste while roses bloom below,
Oh haste while pale and bright above
The sun and moon alternate glow,
To pluck the rose of love.
Yea, give the morning to the lark,
The nightingale its glimmering grove,
Give moonlight to the hungry dark,
But to man's heart give love!
Then haste while still the roses blow,
And pale and bright in heaven above
The sun and moon alternate glow,
Pluck, pluck the rose of love.
poem by Mathilde Blind
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Old Man Say (Make Haste)
The beast rest there!
Go before the night draw near
Before ill-times wake
Cause then, It may all be late
So lad make haste
- *Guh dear lad!
Before next day
Harken to what *dis old man say
Make hay my lad
Unless be sad
Say I, make haste
Don't make good times waste
It's a wild wild world
- out *deh mi lad
And di wolves dem *nat suh kine
Go on now *mi lad
*Mek haste before its night
And me sure all will be right
*guh - go *mek - make *mi - my
*deh - there * kine - kind *di - the
*nat suh - not so *me - i'm *dis - this
Copyright © 2012
poem by Godfrey Morris
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Sonnet III
And every year a world my will did deem,
Till lo! at last, to Court now am I come,
A seemly swain that might the place beseem,
A gladsome guest embraced by all and some.
Not there content with common dignity,
My wandering eye in haste (yea post post haste)
Beheld the blazing badge of bravery,
For want whereof I thought myself disgraced.
Then peevish pride puffed up my swelling heart,
To further forth so hot an enterprise;
And comely cost began to play his part
In praising patterns of mine own devise.
Thus all was good and might be got in haste,
To prink me up, and make me higher placed.
poem by George Gascoigne
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Ramdas, Start Talking With New Language!
Ramdas, start Talking with New Language,
Talk with people and every life,
That language which can take world to new dimension,
Or world shine with beauty and freshness,
Be the one among builders of new world!
Language of love and acceptance,
language that comes from the
depth of the heart,
affectionate and humble,
language that is full of gratitude,
Free of doubts and fear, Language of smile and presence
of mind,
Mindfulness which uses silence
and words well balanced,
the world to new dimensions,
Make world Look like a new world in the light of wisdom!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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In Their Haste
I look out at the city
and what do I see,
thousands of feet going nowhere.
Every one of them has a dream,
but most will be unrealised,
in their haste to get where they are going.
Their dreams are wasted there.
They forget about the goals
that they wanted to achieve
in their haste to go nowhere.
Maybe if they stopped
every now and then,
examine what they want to do,
they might get their dreams in the end.
(7 July 2007)
poem by David Harris
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