Elizabeth
I am not telling anything about the Queen,
Her name also Elizabeth but her Palace
Somewhere else, in front of an old Railway station.
She cannot sleep well because of the express trains
But some nights she dreams the Commonwealth it seems.
One night after a couple of drinks I searched some notes in my wallet
But they were disappeared secretly and I gave her some coins.
She said; 'Thank you Mr.Edinborough you know my mother's a seamstress to a bygone Queen and she gave this beautiful name.'
I didn't correct my name and I said; ' Yes, Mrs.Elizabeth I 'll convey the message when I go to the Palace for music lessons.'
*I dedicate this to the old senile woman who slept on the road that stuck in my memory and torments me all the time!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Related quotes
swr Raleigh Married Elizabeth Throckmorton Secretly
Raleigh sly got a prize lady-in-waiting pregnant
married beloved Elizabeth Throckmorton secretly
one of monarch Queen Elizabeth's ladies-in-waiting
without Queen Elizabeth I's permission in 1591
husband wife were sent to the Tower of London.
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A rich queen and a poor king
The handsome threadbare man who struggled in a slum.
I don't know why I loved him and took him to my palace?
I gave an old king's name to bring him to our own society.
This beautiful witch-Queen dragged me to her palace
and given me an ugly name of a Lunatic.
My halcyon slum is a paradise.
The edge of the heavy crown pierced my head
and I never had a sound sleep
since I came to this hell.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Anna Lu King 1910/2001
O’ beautiful black queen…
The center of my dreams…
Enjoy your sleep…
It made me weep…
Yet in my heart you I keep…
And there you will live on…
O’ great queen…
You still watch over me…
And give me God’s favor, faith…
You’ve showed me how and what…
Is love…
Understanding how I was bad and made me see…
My good…
O’ beautiful black queen…Mother…
Of my Mother…
Woman of my second home…
A whole woman…
A woman with an iron fist…
And a heart of gold…
A God fearing woman…
Sleep…you sweet thang…
In my heart you will always…
Ring…
Making the whole of me sing…
I love you for the words…
You never spoke…
You my mothers, mother…
Twins in my world…
Blessed by God…
Sleep, sleep, sleep…
In heavenly peace…
While I thank you…
Dear woman…
For your daughter…
Who loves you and me…
Thank you grand mother…
For loving me…rest…
I feel you…I feel you watching over…
My shoulder…
Bless are you my sweet black queen…
For in my heart is where you still live…
With all my love, your loving grandson
Kwane Kenya Lamb…rest my sweet…
poem by whisperkwane Lamb
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Queen
I am the queen
of my own little kingdom
my palace is small
and my crown is not glittering.
I have no knights
or even servants that serve me
but I am the queen
of my own little kingdom.
I only have fishes
and turtles
and flowers to care for
and children too.
You don't have to call me
'your highness'
or even bow your head
in front of me.
But as the queen
of my own little kingdom
you have to respect my authority
over my domain.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
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They are a happy couple
While the king enjoys the company
Of some women outside his palace,
The queen is relived of his presence
To have her men in her residence.
She is helpless to check the king’s move
And he is timeless to track his queen.
Both believe the other is loyal
And they as a happy couple live.
03.05.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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‘He came unto His own, and His own received Him not’
As Christ the Lord was passing by,
He came, one night, to a cottage door.
He came, a poor man, to the poor;
He had no bed whereon to lie.
He asked in vain for a crust of bread,
Standing there in the frozen blast.
The door was locked and bolted fast.
‘Only a beggar!’ the poor man said.
Christ the Lord went further on,
Until He came to a palace gate.
There a king was keeping his state,
In every window the candles shone.
The king beheld Him out in the cold.
He left his guests in the banquet-hall.
He bade his servants tend them all.
‘I wait on a Guest I know of old.’
‘’Tis only a beggar-man!’ they said.
‘Yes,’ he said; ‘it is Christ the Lord.’
He spoke to Him a kindly word,
He gave Him wine and he gave Him bread.
Now Christ is Lord of Heaven and Hell,
And all the words of Christ are true.
He touched the cottage, and it grew;
He touched the palace, and it fell.
The poor man is become a king.
Never was man so sad as he.
Sorrow and Sin on the throne make three,
He has no joy in mortal thing.
But the sun streams in at the cottage door
That stands where once the palace stood.
And the workman, toiling to earn his food,
Was never a king before.
poem by Mary Elizabeth Coleridge
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Elizabeth
_May 1, 1891_.
I.
Elizabeth! Elizabeth!
The first May-morning whispereth
Thy gentle name in every breeze
That lispeth through the young-leaved trees,
New raimented in white and green
Of bloom and leaf to crown thee queen;--
And, as in odorous chorus, all
The orchard-blossoms sweetly call
Even as a singing voice that saith
Elizabeth! Elizabeth!
II.
Elizabeth! Lo, lily-fair,
In deep, cool shadows of thy hair,
Thy face maintaineth its repose.--
Is it, O sister of the rose,
So better, sweeter, blooming thus
Than in this briery world with us?--
Where frost o'ertaketh, and the breath
Of biting winter harrieth
With sleeted rains and blighting snows
All fairest blooms--Elizabeth!
III.
Nay, then!--So reign, Elizabeth,
Crowned, in thy May-day realm of death!
Put forth the scepter of thy love
In every star-tipped blossom of
The grassy dais of thy throne!
Sadder are we, thus left alone,
But gladder they that thrill to see
Thy mother's rapture, greeting thee.
Bereaved are we by life--not death--
Elizabeth! Elizabeth!
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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MY QUEEN I LoVe YOU…
MOTHER, you’re my Precious Gift,
Heaven Under Your Feet,
Of my Heart you are the Beat,
MOTHER, from ALLAH you have been sent...
MAMMY, you’re my First School,
Without you I’m a fool,
You’re my REASON that’s sure…
MAMMA, my Precious Pearl,
My wounds you heal,
My sorrow you kill,
My tiredness you feel…
MOM, your LoVe in my Soul, it will Never die,
MOM, your LoVe in my Heart, it will Never breathe its last breath,
MOM, I'm never ready to say goodbye,
Don’t ask me why?
I’ll reply…
DEAR MOTHER, you’re my Mysterious Instinct…
I want to cry aloud,
“I’m soooooo proud”,
I’m so proud of your sacrifices,
I’m so proud of your patience,
I’m so proud of your noble feelings…
Thanks to your Wisdom, my Insight is Keen
Thanks to your Kindness, my Compassion is Deep
Thanks to your Heart, my LoVe is Sincere
Thanks to your Pure Soul, my Thought is Shrewd …
MY LOVELY MOM, you light my Day,
MY LOVELY MOM, you take my pain away …
MAMMA, your kind is angelic, so…
In my own way I'll say: THANK YOU…
MOM, THANK YOU, you made me a true-born,
MOM, THANK YOU, when I was weak, you gave me Strength,
MOM, THANK YOU, when I was disappointed, you called for Hope,
MOM, THANK YOU, when I was astray, you Guided me,
MOM, THANK YOU, when I was mistaken, you Warned me,
MOM, THANK YOU, when I was intolerant, you Softened me,
MOM, THANK YOU, when I was withered, you Flowered me again,
MOM, THANK YOU, when I was wrong, you Directed me,
MOM, THANK YOU, when I was guilty, you Reprimanded me,
MOM, THANK YOU, when I was anger you, Calmed me…
MOM THANK YOU, for your Patience,
MOM, THANK YOU, for your Help,
MOM, THANK YOU, for your Compassion,
MOM, THANK YOU, for your Care,
MOM, THANK YOU, for your Understanding,
MOM, THANK YOU, for your Tolerance,
MOM, THANK YOU, for your LoVe,
MOM, THANK YOU, for your Charity,
MOM, THANK YOU, for your Worry,
MOM, THANK YOU, for your Serenity…
MAMMA, you’re my panacea
MAMMA, without you I’m pariah …
MAMMA, you’re the very right QUEEN in the most Sensitive Empire “My Heart”… hence I’ll say: SORRY…
MY QUEEN, SORRY if a day I got you tiered,
MY QUEEN, SORRY if a day I angered you,
MY QUEEN, SORRY if a day I disappointed you,
MY QUEEN, SORRY if a day I forsaken you,
MY QUEEN, SORRY if a day I didn’t say: “I LoVe you”,
MY QUEEN, SORRY if a day is over and I didn’t embrace you,
MY QUEEN, SORRY if a day is over and I didn’t thank you,
MY QUEEN, SORRY if a day is over and I didn’t miss you,
MY QUEEN, SORRY if a day is over and I didn’t excuse you,
MY QUEEN, SORRY if a day is over and I didn’t respect you,
MY QUEEN, SORRY if a day is over and I didn’t care of you,
MY QUEEN, SORRY if a day is over and I didn’t support you…
MY QUEEN I LoVe YOU…
{August 13,2009}
poem by Glamorous Enigma
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Queen
Head strong and steadfast junkies
All barter for the clean
They all wait in their plastic lines
To find what color means
Cause they all wanna be queen
And you do know what I mean
Cause they all wanna be queen
And you do know what I mean
I spoke to a girl by the backdoor
She said she'd do anything just to meet you
You know I've seen that smile before
Just in time for a knee to hit the ground
Little girls
Dressed up like French whores
In velvet paintings
Wide eyed
Long nails
They all wanna live the fairy tale
(Chorus)
Did they tear you all up inside
Did they take away your pride
and she cried herself to sleep that night
Cause they all wanna be queen
And you do know what I mean
Cause they all wanna be queen
And you do And you do And you do
know what I mean
Queen wanna be queen
Queen wanna be queen
Queen wanna be queen
Queen wanna be queen
song performed by by Tonic from Sugar
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Queen Elizabeth II
Elizabeth the second's reign,
Has been much to her realm's gain,
Her allegiance to her nation,
Model to those of her station,
A most wise and respectful queen,
Great as those before her have been,
We'll remain loyal to the crown,
Lest all we've built up crashes down,
With prince Philip by her right hand,
Meeting duties and touring the land,
Commonwealth realms unite as one,
Helped out by all that she has done,
May she long still be on the throne,
Reach out so bridges are grown,
Be a link to an age that's gone,
She that her subjects depend on.
poem by Christian Lacdael
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Cinderella, in an Alternate Universe
Cinderella got lost
somewhere in between
the countryside and palace
that she'd never seen.
Walking through mud,
face streaked with tears
still clearly so beautiful,
the slippers were clear.
But soon she got covered
in the worst kinds of things
and she didn't understand
what marriage would mean.
She had no conception
of being the queen,
so she met a young beggar
and settled, for him.
They lived in a hovel
right outside town;
she'd watch the processions
of royals going down.
She often wondered
how it might feel
to sit on a throne
(it gave her a thrill!) .
As she tended the fire
and sat in the cinders
she would dream of a life
with riches unending.
The end.
poem by Patti Masterman
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A sweet memory
Her name is Matilda and she got a very huge bust.
She was nick named by Dairy Queen in the class.
Her family migrated to Great Britain for good
And before she leaves gave her autograph to sign among friends.
Still I remember a friend of mine wrote;
'Matilda this is certain and be careful if you get an opportunity to embrace the Queen, definitely the Buckingham Palace would be collapsed.'
He too lives in U.K and sent me a letter recently that he met Matilda by chance.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Written with a Diamond on her Window at Woodstock
Much suspected by me,
Nothing proved can be,
Quoth Elizabeth prisoner.
poem by Queen Elizabeth I
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Queen Mother
Oh my 'Queen Mother',
How sweet are your breasts as i do see them?
For they are swollen up with love and,
Very attractive for the eyes and the hands to touch them;
But i am the one who want to love you the more!
I fell once and i have learnt my lessons well,
So stop crying and let me care for you;
Because the rainbow had already heard your message of love!
And i will do the rest if you just sleep on my laps.
Your breasts are swollen up and very succulent!
And you are now a matured lady and,
I will press very close to the walls of your love;
For what is sweet are in your breasts and,
What is loveable are on your lips.
I will hold you tight all night long my 'Queen Mother';
For the night is cold i want your sweet love.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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A street child writes in the book of life!
Nobody inquires
My beautiful name,
My bad age
And magical gender?
They realize that I am a female
When I become a small mother very soon.
I am not quite sure this zig zag road is a haven
For an Orphan?
As the massive Armoured cars pass here very often.
But my poor qualifications are not enough for Heaven
And nobody smuggles to a Palace this ugly ragged Queen?
To the poetess Angelina Pandian in gratitude!
*@10.00 A.M. today in a coin Laundry, Stanton.
O that Hispanic little girl's tiny jade talking eyes forced me to write something and I found a throw away packet of cigarettes in the trash bin and the pencil stub always stuck in my holey pocket!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Foreign Window
I saw you from a foreign window
Bearing down the sufferin road
You were carryin your burden
To the palace of the lord
To the palace of the lord
I spied you from a foreign window
When the lilacs were in bloom
And the sun shone through your window pane
To the place you kept your books
You were reading on your sofa
You were singin every prayer
That the masters had instilled in you
Since lord byron loved despair
In the palace of the lord
In the palace of the lord
Bridge:
And if you get it right this time
You dont have to come back again
And if you get it right this time
Theres no need to explain
I saw you from a foreign
Bearing down the sufferin road
You were carryin your burden
You were singing about rimbaud
I was going down to geneva
When the kingdom had been found
I was giving you protection
From the loneliness of the crowd
In the palace of the lord
In the palace of the lord
They were giving you religion
Breaking bread and drinking wine
And you laid out on the green hills
Just like when you were a child
I saw you from a foreign window
You were trying to find your way back home
You were carrying your defects
Sleeping on a pallet on the floor
In the palace of the lord
In the palace of the lord
In the palace of the lord
Etc etc...
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Queen Elizabeth: An honest tale speeds best being plainly told.
Richard: Then plainly to her tell my loving tale.
Queen Elizabeth: Plain and not honest is too harsh a style.
line from Richard III, Act IV, Scene 4 by William Shakespeare (1593)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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and it was Her Summer
…And It Was Her Summer
“Go back to the children’s home, she said I have no work and
can’t afford to keep you” Late June afternoon she sat on a bench
with a man I didn’t know. The man smiled I didn’t like him, but
took the coins he gave me to buy an ice –cream for; I was still
hanging about so mother got up and slapped me across the face.
”Get lost you stupid boy! ” My face was burning I threw the coins
into the lake and ran away. When I stopped running it was night
and I could see sheep in a field, I was tired and cold, thought of
seeking shelter in a little wooden church, but it smelt of fear and
I thought of ghosts, so I walked on till I came to a workman’s hut
near the road, it was easy to get in; here the smell was of coffee,
and kind men in overalls, perhaps one of them were my father?
It was morning and warm sunlight when they came, they were not
angry, but gave me milk and bread and showed me the quickest
way to get home. The sky that day was enormous and from a hill
I looked down to the town, I could see the school building it must
have been early, no children in the yard; but I just sat there and
could not understand why my mother didn’t want to se me.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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The Idealist
Oh you who have daring deeds to tell!
And you who have felt Ambition's spell!
Have you heard of the louse who longed to dwell
In the golden hair of a queen?
He sighed all day and he sighed all night,
And no one could understand it quite,
For the head of a slut is a louse's delight,
But he pined for the head of a queen.
So he left his kinsfolk in merry play,
And off by his lonesome he stole away,
From the home of his youth so bright and gay,
And gloriously unclean.
And at last he came to the palace gate,
And he made his way in a manner straight
(For a louse may go where a man must wait)
To the tiring-room of the queen.
The queen she spake to her tiring-maid:
"There's something the matter, I'm afraid.
To-night ere for sleep my hair ye braid,
Just see what may be seen."
And lo, when they combed that shining hair
They found him alone in his glory there,
And he cried: "I die, but I do not care,
For I've lived in the head of a queen!"
poem by Robert William Service
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There is only one heaven, one earth and one queen - me. Queen Elizabeth is an impostor.
quote by Dinah Washington
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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