Lover's Lane
Summah night an' sighin' breeze,
'Long de lovah's lane;
Frien'ly, shadder-mekin' trees,
'Long de lovah's lane.
White folks' wo'k all done up gran'--
Me an' 'Mandy han'-in-han'
Struttin' lak we owned de lan',
'Long de lovah's lane.
Owl a-settin' 'side de road,
'Long de lovah's lane,
Lookin' at us lak he knowed
Dis uz lovah's lane.
Go on, hoot yo' mou'nful tune,
You ain' nevah loved in June,
An' come hidin' f'om de moon
Down in lovah's lane.
Bush it ben' an' nod an' sway,
Down in lovah's lane,
Try'n' to hyeah me whut I say
'Long de lovah's lane.
But I whispahs low lak dis,
An' my 'Mandy smile huh bliss--
Mistah Bush he shek his fis',
Down in lovah's lane.
Whut I keer ef day is long,
Down in lovah's lane.
I kin allus sing a song
'Long de lovah's lane.
An' de wo'ds I hyeah an' say
Meks up fu' de weary day
Wen I's strollin' by de way,
Down in lovah's lane.
An' dis t'ought will allus rise
Down in lovah's lane;
Wondah whethah in de skies
Dey 's a lovah's lane.
Ef dey ain't, I tell you true,
'Ligion do look mighty blue,
'Cause I do' know whut I 'd do
'Dout a lovah's lane.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Brogan's Lane
There's a crack in the city—down that sharp street
In couples, and armed, tramp rozzers on beat.
Like a joss, silhouetted across the pane,
A Chinese face watches down Brogan’s Lane,
Brogan’s Lane, Brogan’s Lane,
A reeling moon blinks over Brogan’s Lane.
Flash Fred, when he dives on a red lot, sneaks thro’
To moscow the swag with a Polaky Jew.
Tho’ rooked by old Shylock, he needn’t complain,
The melting pot bubbles in Brogan’s Lane,
Brogan’s Lane, Brogan’s Lane,
Rats pinch from their cobbers down Brogan’s Lane.
And Jenny, fresh down from the country, goes gay
And drives to the races and laughs at the play;
Till one morn, lying out in the cold and the rain,
A body is perished in Brogan’s Lane,
Brogan’s Lane, Brogan’s Lane,
There’s only one turn to the long last lane.
With opium dens, sly cribs, bones and rags,
’Tis the haunt of thieves, wastrels, poor women and vags.
They booze to bring joy, they sin to numb pain,
But there’ll come a stretch at the end of the lane,
Brogan’s Lane, Brogan’s Lane,
The river and morgue shadow Brogan’s Lane.
poem by Louis Esson
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Travelling down memory lane
Traveling down memory lane
is not all black 'n white.
Traveling down memory lane
is not all lacking light.
Traveling down memory lane
is not eye filled with tears.
Traveling down memory lane
brings fresh and soothing air.
Traveling down memory lane
is love & pain, fun with friends.
Traveling down memory lane
is full of curves and bends.
Traveling down memory lane
is a test of time and mind
Traveling down memory lane
is a joy of it's kind.
poem by Ralph Acosta
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Trvelling down the memory lane
Travelling down the memory lane
is not all black 'n white.
Travelling down the memory lane
is not all lacking light.
Travelling down the memory lane
is not eye filled with tears.
Travelling down the memory lane
brings fresh and soothing air.
Travelling down the memory lane
is college, fun and friend.
Travelling down the memory lane
is full of curves and bends.
Travelling down the memory lane
is a test of time and mind
Travelling down the memory lane
is a joy of it's kind.
Poet: Spandan Bhattacharyya
poem by Spandan Bhattacharyya
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Strolling down memory lane
Strolling down memory lane
Where the colors begin to fade.
Strolling down memory lane
Is where I want you to come along.
Strolling down memory lane
is a test of time and mind.
Strolling down memory lane
I won’t be afraid.
Strolling down memory lane
Is not lacking in color.
Strolling down memory lane
Is not a big bummer.
Strolling down memory lane
Not a storm in sight
Strolling down memory lane
is joy without bite.
A memory that I have created in my mind,
Stands the test of time.
Memories are like dream, a reflection of the past.
My memories can kiss my…
Ask me no questions I will tell you no lies.
poem by Taran Burke
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Taking a Walk on Memory Lane
Taking a walk on memory lane
isn’t all that gray.
Taking a walk on memory lane
I see the sunrays.
Taking a walk on memory lane
isn’t all full of tears.
Taking a walk on memory lane
I have no fear.
Taking a walk on memory lane
not a dropp of rain in sight.
Taking a walk on memory lane
Every thing is alright.
Taking a walk on memory lane
is where I want you to come along.
Taking a walk on memory lane
is where we belong all lifelong.
poem by Lost Sierra
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Memory Lane
People ask me What you doin' son
You're gonna drive yourself insane
You'll never find the sunshine
When you're followin' the rain
Seems like I'd take a new road
After all these years
But I wind up on the same old trail of tears
I'm still walkin' down Memory Lane
'Cuz I know I'll be runnin' into you
Reminiscin' through the pain
Recallin' things that we used to do
I'm lookin' up an old flame
Down on Heartbreak Avenue
I'm still walkin' down Memory Lane
'Cuz I know I'll be runnin'into you
I hate the way I loved you
But my mind keeps goin' back
My train of thought just won't get off
That same old worn out track
It's an every night occasion me and your memory meet
On that endless lonely street of broken dreams
I'm still walkin' down Memory Lane
'Cuz I know I'll be runnin' into you
Reminiscin' through the pain
Recallin' things that we used to do
I'm lookin' up an old flame
Down on Heartbreak Avenue
I'm still walkin' down Memory Lane
'Cuz I know I'll be runnin'/Into you
I'm still walkin' down Memory Lane
Cuz I know I'll be runnin' into you
Reminiscin' through the pain
Recallin' things that we used to do
I'm lookin' up an old flame
Down on Heartbreak Avenue
I'm still walkin' down Memory Lane
'Cuz I know I'll be runnin'/Into you
Here she comes now
I'm still walkin'
Down Memory Lane
I'm still walkin'
Down Memory Lane
I'm still walkin'
Down Memory Lane
Lord
song performed by by Tim McGraw from Tim McGraw
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Penny Lane
(LennonMcCartney)
In Penny Lane there is a barber showing photographs
Of every head he's had the pleasure to know
And all the people that come and go
Stop and say hello
On the corner is a banker with a motorcar
The little children laugh at him behind his back
And the banker never wears a mack
In the pouring rain, very strange
Penny Lane is in my ears and in my eyes
There beneath the blue suburban skies
I sit, and meanwhile back
In Penny Lane there is a fireman with an hourglass
And in his pocket is a portrait of the queen
He likes to keep his fire engine clean
It's a clean machine
Penny Lane is in my ears and in my eyes
A four of fish and finger pies
In summer, meanwhile back
Behind the shelter in the middle of a roundabout
The pretty nurse is selling poppies from a tray
And though she feels as if she's in a play
She is anyway
In Penny Lane the barber shaves another customer
We see the banker sitting waiting for a trim
And then the fireman rushes in
From the pouring rain, very strange
Penny lane is in my ears and in my eyes
There beneath the blue suburban skies
I sit, and meanwhile back
Penny lane is in my ears and in my eyes
There beneath the blue suburban skies
Penny Lane
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Strolling On The Memory Lane
oh, i went to memory lane
too,
i've seen much already.
i come back to what i am
and what i have become,
i hold on to my vision,
my dreams
i write about hope, and
imagine
my future, another 20 years,
another 30 years more,
i pray,
the memory lane is black and white
and then
it faded like a denim
a murky river where i lift my feet
up above the water
and as i move towards the shore,
i decided, i thought,
the memory lane serves me
no more
it was short, and it will not be
repeated
i wake up, and then i forget.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Deep Down The Memory Lane
Deep down the memory lane
I still think of you
Though you may have forgotten me
Yet I think of you
I know there had been promises unkept
and many wishes unfulfilled
Yet deep down the memory lane
I still think of you
There had been lot of fightings
and lot of faults in me
They really have stiffled you
and made u cry to agony
I know it was my weakness
that made you go away
I was the only reason
that made ur love deplete
I have tried to hate u
I have tried to damn
Yet deep down the memory lane
I still think of you!
poem by Rahul Gupta
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A Stroll Along Old Memory Lane
A stroll along old memory lane is a thing I do enjoy
And I can hear the songbirds sing in the groves of Lisnaboy
And white butterflies are flitting midst the wildflowers of July
And above the rushy meadow the lark carolling in the sky
A stroll along old memory lane on a bright Summer's day
And from the sunlit meadow the scent of new mown hay
Is so pleasant to the nostrils in the freshening morning breeze
And the temperature a perfect of around 23 degrees
And on the leafy hedgerows the young birds chirp and sing
A stroll along old memory lane is such a pleasant thing
The hum of the wild honeybees the buzzing of the flies
The past from us not distant when we do visualize
And the skylark's song in the sunny sky is a pleasant thing to hear
As you walk along old memory lane in the Summer of the year.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Santa Claus Lane
I remeber last Christmas Eve
Something happened that I couldn't believe
I went for a walk as the snow came down
And when it stopped I was in a different town
And the sign said have no fear; your not lost your here!
Walk in this Christmas
Down santa claus lane
No need to wonder
No need to explain
Just have soime faith in what you see
Your right here where you wanna be
Walk in this Christmas
Down santa claus lane
Down Santa Claus Lane
Elves were standing in the street
Snow men and reindeer came out to greet
Silver bells chimed frim far away
As santa rode by on an open sleigh
And he told me have no fear
Your not lost
song performed by by Hilary Duff from Santa Claus Lane
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Lane
Some day, I think, there will be people enough
In Froxfield to pick all the blackberries
Out of the hedges of Green Lane, the straight
Broad lane where now September hides herself
In bracken and blackberry, harebell and dwarf gorse.
To-day, where yesterday a hundred sheep
Were nibbling, halcyon bells shake to the sway
Of waters that no vessel ever sailed ...
It is a kind of spring: the chaffinch tries
His song. For heat it is like summer too.
This might be winter's quiet. While the glint
Of hollies dark in the swollen hedges lasts -
One mile - and those bells ring, little I know
Or heed if time be still the same, until
The lane ends and once more all is the same.
poem by Edward Thomas
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A lane in England
In autumn I walked in England
in a lane full of trees
where leaves lay auburn
on a road wet from rain.
Barren, stripped oak trees
were between other green ones
and it was as if I was going
right through a tunnel
with here and there trees
of which the leaves were more yellow.
In the distance the road bended to the right
where a bush fence
cut neatly square
and telephone poles
ran along the edge of the road
and the green moss banks
were covered with auburn leaves
at places
and on the other side
of the road
a shrub stretched out green and long
like a sausage
that was lying next to the road
and I would love
to have a lane like that
next to my driveway.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Poem about Poetry - The Stolen Words
my neighbours
in the tree
how intelligent
they have been
stealing so many
words from us
and chirping them
in the trees
'always going
through this lane'
'always going
through this lane'
on and on
the bird chirps
in the tree in
the manner
of our native
Foochow dialect
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Tempest
I met a twister
On a narrow country lane
A Sunday afternoon
When man had gone to the beach
Dismounted my motor bike
Just in case the little rascal
Wanted to have fun
But it took no interest kept on
Rushing down the lane
I sensed it had lost its way
And was looking for its mother
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Bob's Lane
Women he liked, did shovel-bearded Bob,
Old Farmer Hayward of the Heath, but he
Loved horses. He himself was like a cob
And leather-coloured. Also he loved a tree.
For the life in them he loved most living things,
But a tree chiefly. All along the lane
He planted elms where now the stormcock sings
That travellers hear from the slow-climbing train.
Till then the track had never had a name
For all its thicket and the nightingales
That should have earned it. No one was to blame
To name a thing beloved man sometimes fails.
Many years since, Bob Hayward died, and now
None passes there because the mist and the rain
Out of the elms have turned the lane to slough
And gloom, the name alone survives, Bob's Lane.
poem by Edward Thomas
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The Monotony Of A Vicious Circle
when you run in a circle
you arrive at nowhere
you pass by the same
lane over and over again
so to kill this monotony
you build your own set of
fences and walls with the
end that even if you pass
on the same lane over and
over again somehow the
walls may create the
illusion of a border the fence
an illusion of height so
that you may then claim
that you have hurdled an
obstruction passed a
hard test survived a
certain difficult trial
which you have
freely created yourself
you think you can
deceive the circle?
sorry but
this circle will always
remain as a circle even
if the walls reach the heavens
even if the fences shut you
away from the neighbors
who live on the same
lane with you.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Plains of Lane
The Plains of Lane
Are golden and sane
Grace is in her lips
Humor is in her hips
How majestic is her splendor?
How lovely are her flowers?
Her image is magnificent to the beholder
Her Passion never sours
She leads the other lands with Grace
Her spirit of laughter gives her the edge
All the lands are blessed by her face
Her love and humor are to acknowledge
Creatures find strength and refuge in Lane
The presence of the one there is ever strong
Many people come there to belong
In the magnificent, majestic plains of Lane
poem by Nikolai Curtis
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The barbar down the lane
Most time as much a scissor talk
Call for long legs and hair walk
A thing that happens all the time
To every pocket that has least a dim
The man change a hair one
With smile and happiness morning in line
A hair enters and 'voom' disappears
The man inside with hair on repairs
Our barbar down the lane
Is a man with no shame
My hair I dedicate to him
And mine is down with all vim
The everday I wish to enter
And embrass the comb in my hair
This then I know it him
The barbar down the lane
poem by Henry Nii Ayi Cobblah
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Lonely Lane
Pain is coarsing through my mind
Like blood running through my vein.
And I still walk that lonely lane.
Where my memories still rain.
On the brink
I take a drink
Until my body's numb.
Feeling like Tom Thumb.
So small.
This backstreet bum
That used to have a brain
- Now a blind man with a cane.
I walk that lonely lane.
I pick a fight
This gallant knight
With blood upon his hands
Claims no one understands.
Love doesn't hurt
- It brands.
Like Van Gogh
I'm insane
My verses now just ooze pain.
My greatest art
Is my worst stain.
Weeping from the heart
I walk the lonely lane.
poem by Kevin East
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