A happy Inn for tired pilgrims
If you're religious
I have lot of books
And if not, I have some other journals
With coloured pictures.
Please do not hesitate
And if you have any extra coins
Just dropp into my till
And it's not a must.
In the horrible winter
I would be a desert for you
In the heat of autumn
I could have whisper cold songs to your ear
And I am sure that you never leave me forever!
I can read your palm as same as the precious heart.
Journey is tiresome and let's have a chat for a moment
As who knows whether we meet again or not?
*There are no shortcuts to any place worth going.
-Anonymous
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Related quotes
The Journey without shortcuts
The Journey traveled without shortcuts,
is a journey worth taking.
For there are no shortcuts,
to any place worth going.
The destination does not matter,
but the Journey to it does.
For at the destination,
you will not learn anything.
You will not accomplish much either.
On the Journey to it, however,
you learn many things,
and accomplish much.
On the Journey,
you learn. You learn that,
'We are not human beings on a spiritual journey,
but spiritual beings on a human journey.' (-my good friend Joe)
So travel hard,
and travel well.
Choose your companions wisely,
and leave everything behind.
Never look back,
always move forward.
For 'Yesterday is history,
and history is miles away.' (-Matthew West)
But never forget anything either,
learn all that you can,
and treasure the good times.
Then this Journey will be like no other.
This is the Journey,
of life.
Our life here on Earth,
so don't take shortcuts.
This Journey won't be easy,
but you have a guide.
The guide will never leave your side,
and he will carry you through the rough terrain.
He loves you more than you will ever know,
and he gave you this Journey,
so travel it while holding his hand.
You are not alone.
So again,
never look back,
but don't forget either,
and don't stop.
Don't take any shortcuts,
run the whole race.
You are not alone
on this Journey,
the Journey of life.
(13 Jan.2009)
poem by Melissa Wagner
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In The Winter
The days are okay
I watch the T.V. in the afternoon
If I get lonely
The sound of other voices
Other rooms are near to me
I'm not afraid
The operator
She tells the time
It's good for a laugh
And there's always radio
And for a dime I can talk to God
Dial-a-prayer
Are you there?
Do you care?
Are you there?
And in the Winter extra blankets for the cold
Fix the heater, getting old
I am wiser now you know
And still as big a fool concerning you
I met your friend
She's very nice, what can I say?
It was an accident
I never dreamed we'd meet again this way
You're looking well
I'm not afraid, yeah
You have a lovely home
Just like a picture
No, I live alone
I found it easier
You must remember how I never liked the party life
Up all night
Lovely wife
You have a lovely wife
And in the Winter extra blankets for the cold
Fix the heater, getting old
You are with her now I know
I'll live alone forever, not together, now
And in the Winter extra blankets for the cold
Fix the heater, getting old
You are with her now I know
I'll live alone forever, not together,
song performed by by Dusty Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Winter Song
Its a cold, cold feeling
On a real lazy wind
That blows all the way trough you
And the autumn begins
How it cuts like a sabre
How it chills to the bone
Youve got cold feet and fingers
And youre thinking of home
If I put my arms around you
Take you in from the storm
From your autumn through winter
Darling Ill keep you warm
My overcoats empty
Deep, wide and long
I got room for you darling
Till your winter, till your winter has gone
song performed by by Chris Rea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Marcus Varro
Marcus Varro went up and down
The places where old books were sold;
He ransacked all the shops in town
For pictures new and pictures old.
He gave the folk of earth no peace;
Snooping around by day and night,
He plied the trade in Rome and Greece
Of an insatiate Grangerite.
'Pictures!' was evermore his cry --
'Pictures of old or recent date,'
And pictures only would he buy
Wherewith to 'extra-illustrate.'
Full many a tome of ancient type
And many a manuscript he took,
For nary purpose but to swipe
Their pictures for some other book.
While Marcus Varro plied his fad
There was not in the shops of Greece
A book or pamphlet to be had
That was not minus frontispiece.
Nor did he hesitate to ply
His baleful practices at home;
It was not possible to buy
A perfect book in all of Rome!
What must the other folk have done --
Who, glancing o'er the books they bought,
Came soon and suddenly upon
The vandalism Varro wrought!
How must their cheeks have flamed with red --
How did their hearts with choler beat!
We can imagine what they said --
We can imagine, not repeat!
Where are the books that Varro made --
The pride of dilettante Rome --
With divers portraitures inlaid
Swiped from so many another tome?
The worms devoured them long ago --
O wretched worms! ye should have fed
Not on the books 'extended' so,
But on old Varro's flesh instead!
Alas, that Marcus Varro lives
And is a potent factor yet!
Alas, that still his practice gives
Good men occasion for regret!
To yonder bookstall, pri'thee, go,
And by the 'missing' prints and plates
And frontispieces you shall know
He lives, and 'extra-illustrates'!
poem by Eugene Field
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Desert Inn
I never meet her in the city
But believe me she is pretty
Six-hundred-fifty miles away
I meet my angel in the desert
In the desert I can meet her
Oh in the desert heat she makes me play
Im not trying to be clever
Im not getting there forever
Only flying with the wind and thee
Im not trying to be late
Just becoming a slave
Come on angel, play the game
Im not trying to be clever
Im not getting there forever
Wont fight with the window on me
Im not trying to be late
Just becoming a slave
Come on angel, play the game
Shes never in the city
But the woman shes pretty
Six-hundred-fifty miles away
I meet my angel in the desert
In the desert I can meet her
In the desert heat she makes me pray
There is a race in your face
song performed by by Yello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Desert Inn
I never meet her in the city
But believe me she is pretty
Six-hundred-fifty miles away
I meet my angel in the desert
In the desert I can meet her
Oh in the desert heat she makes me play
Im not trying to be clever
Im not getting there forever
Only flying with the wind and thee
Im not trying to be late
Just becoming a slave
Come on angel, play the game
Im not trying to be clever
Im not getting there forever
Wont fight with the window on me
Im not trying to be late
Just becoming a slave
Come on angel, play the game
Shes never in the city
But the woman shes pretty
Six-hundred-fifty miles away
I meet my angel in the desert
In the desert I can meet her
In the desert heat she makes me pray
There is a race in your face
song performed by by Yello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Autumn Passed Through Paris
Autumn sliped into Paris yesterday,
came silently down Boulevard St Michel,
In sultry heat, past boughs sullen and still,
and met me on its way.
As I walked on to where the Seine flows by,
little twig songs burned softly in my heart,
smoky, odd, sombre, purple songs. I thought
they sighed that I shall die.
Autumn drew abreast and whispered to me,
Boulevard St Michel that moment shivered.
Rustling, the dusty, playful leaves quivered,
whirled forth along the way.
One moment: summer took no heed: whereon,
laughing, autumn sped away from Paris.
That it was here, I alone bear witness,
under the trees that moan.
America
wonderful land that makes
us one
fantastic place where
everyone chases
glorious as it is, a home
where everybody belongs
you have been the pot
of the potter hat
a dream that every race
has raised
alluring to the autumn spring,
where winter awaits the
crystal clear of summer
a beauty that my heart gives
the start of my journey's part
amusing, my soul rejoices
the scenery that offers me fall
let my life make the same
a moment where i remain
stand still,
dear America you await
me, till i meet
freedom that you give
life as we live, thing has
to believe, nation has to
live
cherish America
poem by Antonio Liao
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On Autumn´s Earth
This is the beginning
Now carry me away
On to the faraway new day
That now is born to play
Yes this is the beginning
Moments dreamed and found
Everything in its singing
That comes again around
Flowers on autumn´s earth
Reaching their own goal
Times of days and worth
Each their together role
Flowers on autumn´s earth
Reaching their own goal
Times of days and worth
Each their together role
On autumn´s earth
Yesterdays were all turning
In their beat´s echo heart
Forever in lay and burning
Poles and miles apart
Flames of their color giving
All that came from within
Days their dreams own living
As worlds take their spin
Flowers on autumn´s earth
Reaching their own goal
Times of days and worth
Each their together role
Flowers on autumn´s earth
Reaching their own goal
Times of days and worth
Each their together role
On autumn´s earth
Swept away in their call
Dreams that were carried on
Love songs of colors fall
Until their moments are gone
You and I had our calling
Dreams that were not to be
Now like autumn earth's falling
All that we had is now free
Flowers on autumn´s earth
Reaching their own goal
Times of days and worth
Each their together role
Flowers on autumn´s earth
Reaching their own goal
Times of days and worth
Each their together role
On autumn´s earth
Flowers on autumn´s earth
Reaching their own goal
On autumn´s earth
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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On Autumns Earth
This is the beginning
Now carry me away
On to the faraway new day
That now is born to play
Yes this is the beginning
Moments dreamed and found
Everything in its singing
That comes again around
Flowers on autumn´s earth
Reaching their own goal
Times of days and worth
Each their together role
Flowers on autumn´s earth
Reaching their own goal
Times of days and worth
Each their together role
On autumn´s earth
Yesterdays were all turning
In their beat´s echo heart
Forever in lay and burning
Poles and miles apart
Flames of their color giving
All that came from within
Days their dreams own living
As worlds take their spin
Flowers on autumn´s earth
Reaching their own goal
Times of days and worth
Each their together role
Flowers on autumn´s earth
Reaching their own goal
Times of days and worth
Each their together role
On autumn´s earth
Swept away in their call
Dreams that were carried on
Love songs of colors fall
Until their moments are gone
You and I had our calling
Dreams that were not to be
Now like autumn earth's falling
All that we had is now free
Flowers on autumn´s earth
Reaching their own goal
Times of days and worth
Each their together role
Flowers on autumn´s earth
Reaching their own goal
Times of days and worth
Each their together role
On autumn´s earth
Flowers on autumn´s earth
Reaching their own goal
On autumn´s earth
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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Pirouetting Autumn
The tree blushed - a rude blast of air
Betrayed a shapely bough.
My saddened heart aware
That Nature's clock was chiming,
I froze upon the twelfth
Clanging tone, caught alone,
Staring at a creaking door -
Left ajar for dancing, coloured Autumn,
Pirouetting in her leaves,
While agitated summer creatures
Backed away resignedly,
Sighing in protracted breves.
I turned; gave company;
We stood together, watching
Summer slowly blow away.
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
A utumn autumn autumn autumn
Autumn autumn autumn autumn
Autumn autumn autumn autumn
Autumn autumn autumn autumn
Autumn autumn autumn autumn
Autumn autumn autumn autumn
Autumn autumn autumn autumn
Autumn autumn autumn autumn
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Love Letters From Syur
Roses are red
violets are blue
I'm thinking of you
If only you knew
The stars are like dreams,
painted across the sky
put their for you and I
and if only they could describe
The way you make me feel
How I wish these dreams were real
Or how you got me head over heals
But remember
You were the one who walked away
and left me on that cold winter day
Just left me to freeze away
On that cold winter day
Oh what a beautiful way
To start my day
as to see your face
In this horrible place
This place we all call home
Were I am left alone
With no one to call my own
Life like this is pretty tough
But just to see you is enough
but just remember
You were the one who walked away
and left me on that cold winter day
Just left me to freeze away
On that cold winter day
I'll fight away your fears
I'll wipe away your tears
For now until the end of time
If that's what it takes for you to be mine
And until then I'll sit here
Waiting for you my dear
Cause all you gotta do is simply say
Lets go back in time before that cold winter day
that cold winter day
poem by Jorge Rolon
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Stay Here Forever
Stay Here Forever
Date: November 18,2012
I will remember you in soft pink dreams
Savoring you like honey; sweet, warm flavors on my tongue
And I'll taste the fullness of your fiery lips melting on mine
To the depths of my soul, I'll thrill to the songs of your feathered touch
And with each midnight turning, I'll lay twisting, yearning
Trembling as you steal my breath to keep as your own
Never leave me, my love…to battle the nights alone
Never, ever cease to spread your wings
To shield me from life's cruel clutch
Live! Scream your songs forever into my consciousness, my memories
For if you fade, I will cease to breathe
If you turn your eyes away, my essence will fail to be
I will relive you in my heart, my darling, my dancing ember
As you rage in me, a sea of flame scorching my soul
So lustful is your whispered intent, my love, so wanton your hunger
I listen, stone silent, straining to hear the urgent call of your desires
For I long for the perfect rhythm of your fevered sighs
Rewinding in slow sweet agony, the precious heat of your flesh on mine
Never turn from me, never my love, never
Do not break the bond that holds my heart in chains
For you are the key, the makings of my weakness, my fire
And I will perish in cold oblivion without your favor
Never leave me stranded, to shiver in the desert of dark despair
Stay with me forever, stay here…forever captured in my heart.
*********************************** **********
Copyright © 2012 Leria Hawkins, All Rights Reserved
poem by Leria Hawkins
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In The Palm Of Your Hand
In the palm of your hand
you hold my heart.
Cradle it gently, my love
so it will never fall apart.
In the palm of your hand
you hold my love.
Carress it tenderly forever
and always place it above
everything that you touch.
Hold my hand
in the palm of your hand
so that I may always feel
that the sifting grains of sand
in the hourglass of time
will never be able to steal
these precious moments away.
Let them be able to stay
always in the palm of your hand.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Autumn Becomes Winter
Autumn is becoming Winter,
And as it does everything dies.
Autumn is a slow decay in warm colours,
And Winter is grey and absent.
Some of the redy-brown leaves sit on the trees,
Yet the cold chill sings a song
That could only be the Winter.
It is scarf weather now.
I turn my collar up against the cold and damp.
The Sun has stopped shining all day,
Now we see it for a few hours a day
And then we are entombed in darkness.
You could run to catch up with the Sun,
But you’d never make it.
Be left like ship smoke on the horizon,
Just a spot in the distance.
You cannot escape the Winter.
Autumn is becoming Winter,
And as it does everything dies.
poem by Charlie F. Kane
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Autumn
The calendar
Truly revealed it is was Autumn day
However, the dropp in the temperature
Informed us all
That Winter has gave way
Iam was not ready for Winter
So, I prayed the icy winds
would go away and
Return again
Some other day
For perhaps, the children
Still needed time outside to play?
However, on that Autumn windy day
The force of Winter
Simply had it's icy way
poem by Angel A. Lockwood
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In the Midnight Hour
When we meet
in the midnight hour
country girl
I will bring you night flowers
coloured like your eyes
in the moonlight
in the midnight
hour
I remember
Your cold hand
held for a moment among strangers
held for a moment among dripping trees
in the midnight hour
I remember
Your eyes coloured like the autumn landscape
walking down muddy lanes
watching sheep eating yellow roses
walking in city squares in winter rain
kissing in darkened hallways
walking in empty suburban streets
saying goodnight in deserted alleyways
in the midnight hour
Andy Williams singing `We'll keep a Welcome in the
Hillsides' for us
When I meet you at the station
The Beatles singing `We Can Work it Out' with James
Ensor at the harmonium
Rita Hayworth in a nightclub singing `Arcade Mia'
I will send you armadas
of love vast argosies of flowers
in the midnight hour
country girl
when we meet
in the moonlight
midnight
hour
country girl
I will bring you
yellow
white
eyes
bright
moon
light
mid
night
flowers
in the midnight hour.
poem by Adrian Henri
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I Don't Really Think So......
they all remember
their dead,
they make landmarks
of place they've been too
they make journals
to keep forever what happened
when they were still alive
they take pictures
preserve them
frame them and hang them in their
libraries
and living rooms
old faces, beautiful bodies
in their dresses
of their own times
and suits and
shoes,
sometimes i ask why?
why do we really have to remember?
when we all leave
what mind in us may still remember?
and will those who inherited our failures
and even fortunes
remember us?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Talking To Winter
'Merry Winter' winter said,
'May you be happpy by chill, '
I replied 'why thanks you alas,
This breeze is refreshing and shrill.'
Then winter said,
'My snow has to come, though it's late..'
I then replied in a pleasured voice,
'My Winter friend, it's really worth the wait.
For you can never desert us,
Coming every year, better late than never, '
Winter than calmly says,
'You're right, I have come forever.
Every December, Jan or Feb,
Turning up even in April I will,
To turn your faces warm with smiles,
So that you can feel the chill.
My soft cushions lay on the ground,
Snow, as I think you decide it's named.'
'Yes, that's its name' I replied nicely,
'That's what keeps Winter spirit, enflamed.
It's nice to know you Winter,
You bring happiness as well as a change,
You give us a shiny moon,
And coldness in a great range.'
'Thank you' replied Winter,
'Your comment has made me feel nice,
Like for once I feel warm,
My chilliness needs some spice.'
'Haha' I replied politely,
'I'd better stock up on heat,
Spice to winter sounds chilly,
Like giving coldness a beat.
Well thank you, what a nice talk, '
I said in a merry tone,
Winter replied 'well thank you as well,
Atleast this winter, I'm not alone.
Pleasurable talk, gets things open,
I hope we talk much more,
Maybe invite some friends?
I've got Autumn, Spring and Summer in store.
Lovely talk.' I replied 'same, lovely...'
poem by Viraj Bhanshaly
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Cold Winter
Ive seen you, cold winter,
I know you, cold winter.
You showed me no mercy,
Still I shant forget[? ] the warning.
Youll never know how it feels to be loved.
I know you, cold winter,
You broke my heart, cold winter.
I missed you, warm summer,
Never thought Id see you, cold summer.
Youll never know how it feels to be loved.
I thank you, cold winter,
Never leave that game[? ] to lifes story.
You healed me, cold winter,
You taught me how to face the morning.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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