415
dark night
in the woods
house lamplight
peace and quiet
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Night And peace
NIGHT in the woods,—night:
Peace, peace on the plain.
The last red sunset beam
Belts the tall beech with gold;
The quiet kine are in the fold,
And stilly flows the stream.
Soon shall we see the stars again,
For one more day down to its rest has lain,
And all its cares have taken flight,
And all its doubt and pain.
Night in the woods,—night:
Peace, peace on the plain.
poem by Edward Rowland Sill
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Black Is The Dark Of Night
BLACK IS THE DARK OF THE NIGHT
Black is the dark of night
Deep is the quiet and calm –
Waking before the world does
Brings a special peace –
I write these lines
And begin the day
When others still sleeping -
All the world is mine at peace
And when the morning light comes
I will be astonished by the beauty
Of God’s world.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Red House
My Red House
Be quiet as a mouse
I once played in that red house
Shy was I, like a little mouse
Tippy toed I went looking around
Giggling, without making any sound
Happy was I to run around and play
My very own home to live and stay
My Red House
Be quiet as a mouse
Darkness came swiftly one night
A sense of something was not quite right
The shadows came across the wall
Covering my eyes, ready for my fall
The sounds of whips and chains dragged
against the floor
The sheer terror numbed me from looking
passed that door
My Red House
Be quiet as a mouse
The darkness slowly turned to grey
The black clouds lifting away
No longer trapped, I did not need to stay
Free was I to let go and make my own way
So ever slowly, opening that door
I could see the light and so much more
My Red House
Be quiet as a mouse
Changing and always moving
Never stopping and always wanting
Step by step, I shed all those tears
One at a time, I climbed up those stairs
Moving closer to where I want to be
No longer a child but an adult me
My Red House
Be quiet as a mouse
I came home today
The Red House, same as it was yesterday
Slowly, walking up that hill
Everything seems to be in a stand still
I could only stay for a while
Before the darkness comes within a mile
My Red House
Be quiet as a mouse
The breath of life you gave to me
But took away the child within me
No longer a pawn to your destruction
I have found my peace and resolution
Turning away towards the path of light
I see a very beautiful sight
My Red House
There is no longer a mouse
poem by Miu Miu Ayushi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Last Night He Finally Did It
he dreams about it
and last night he did it
he wore his boots
slipped from his big house
went out and took himself for a walk
farther away into the woods
alone
unafraid
it was so dark as the moon did not come out that night
too the stars
and he went his way out farther without light
only his coat and bare hands
no knife
defenseless as he is
he proceeded deep into the woods
not thinking about any direction
all he wanted was to know
what courage is
how is it to be alone without walls to protect him
without fences and guns and bullets
he missed this point
just to be a man
sans everything.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
poem by Robert Frost
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Dark Night
Dark dark night storm over me
Dark night is a holy blur
Dark dark night stop taunting me
Dark night and I think of her
Dark dark night I'm so lonely
Dark night why leave in me such a mess
Dark dark night I feel so much
Dark night filled with nothingness
Dark dark night please please
Bring the light
poem by Ary Bolanos
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The Voice
Safe in the magic of my woods
I lay, and watched the dying light.
Faint in the pale high solitudes,
And washed with rain and veiled by night,
Silver and blue and green were showing.
And the dark woods grew darker still;
And birds were hushed; and peace was growing;
And quietness crept up the hill;
And no wind was blowing
And I knew
That this was the hour of knowing,
And the night and the woods and you
Were one together, and I should find
Soon in the silence the hidden key
Of all that had hurt and puzzled me -
Why you were you, and the night was kind,
And the woods were part of the heart of me.
And there I waited breathlessly,
Alone; and slowly the holy three,
The three that I loved, together grew
One, in the hour of knowing,
Night, and the woods, and you -
And suddenly
There was an uproar in my woods,
The noise of a fool in mock distress,
Crashing and laughing and blindly going,
Of ignorant feet and a swishing dress,
And a Voice profaning the solitudes.
The spell was broken, the key denied me
And at length your flat clear voice beside me
Mouthed cheerful clear flat platitudes.
You came and quacked beside me in the wood.
You said, 'The view from here is very good!'
You said, 'It's nice to be alone a bit!'
And, 'How the days are drawing out!' you said.
You said, 'The sunset's pretty, isn't it?'
* * * * *
By God! I wish - I wish that you were dead!
poem by Rupert Brooke (1909)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Come In
As I came to the edge of the woods,
Thrush music -- hark!
Now if it was dusk outside,
Inside it was dark.
Too dark in the woods for a bird
By sleight of wing
To better its perch for the night,
Though it still could sing.
The last of the light of the sun
That had died in the west
Still lived for one song more
In a thrush's breast.
Far in the pillared dark
Thrush music went --
Almost like a call to come in
To the dark and lament.
But no, I was out for stars;
I would not come in.
I meant not even if asked;
And I hadn't been.
poem by Robert Frost
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Oh Christmas Night Oh Christmas Night
Oh Christmas night oh Christmas night
So quiet all and splendor
We celebrate Christ birth and might
With candle lights so tender
For on this night is born a king
The king of peace on earth
We glorify and humbly sing
About this child and holy birth
Oh Christmas night oh Christmas night
When night's around and dark
We find his love's a guiding light
And see his angels hark
We hope this time peace will bring
And guide our footsteps all
For he's the forth of everything
The protector of big and small
Oh Christmas night oh Christmas night
The spirits of love and greeting
When each love will burn on so bright
With kindness and good treating
We hope one day peace will arrive
For every life that's living
We must therefore still on strive
Remembering what Christmas is giving
poem by Peter S. Quinn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Voice, The
Safe in the magic of my woods
I lay, and watched the dying light.
Faint in the pale high solitudes,
And washed with rain and veiled by night,
Silver and blue and green were showing.
And the dark woods grew darker still;
And birds were hushed; and peace was growing;
And quietness crept up the hill;
And no wind was blowing
And I knew
That this was the hour of knowing,
And the night and the woods and you
Were one together, and I should find
Soon in the silence the hidden key
Of all that had hurt and puzzled me --
Why you were you, and the night was kind,
And the woods were part of the heart of me.
And there I waited breathlessly,
Alone; and slowly the holy three,
The three that I loved, together grew
One, in the hour of knowing,
Night, and the woods, and you ----
And suddenly
There was an uproar in my woods,
The noise of a fool in mock distress,
Crashing and laughing and blindly going,
Of ignorant feet and a swishing dress,
And a Voice profaning the solitudes.
The spell was broken, the key denied me
And at length your flat clear voice beside me
Mouthed cheerful clear flat platitudes.
You came and quacked beside me in the wood.
You said, "The view from here is very good!"
You said, "It's nice to be alone a bit!"
And, "How the days are drawing out!" you said.
You said, "The sunset's pretty, isn't it?"
* * * * *
By God! I wish -- I wish that you were dead!
poem by Rupert Brooke
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The River That Flows On and On
In the mist of darkness,
Lies Deep Dark Woods,
Where the river of hatred flows on and on,
The river is dark, it is black
It is filled with sins really so bad,
It has no light, for it gives no light,
It makes the surrounding worse than night,
The people there are worse than monsters,
Never go there; it’s really very dreadful,
Then one day there came a man filled with light,
He wasn’t scared, he was alright,
He went into the Woods so dark,
And saw everything with not even a frightful start
He saw the people, who were really weird,
But still his mind was not filled with fear,
He went to river, he looked at it,
He saw the sins of mankind and sobbed with tears,
He returned home and reported his sighting,
He said it’s because of humans that the river was spoilt,
The people did their best, good not bad,
The woods grew brighter and brought out joys,
It had many visitors, not so spoilt,
The river then flowed with a gleaming light,
It was filled with the goodness of mankind,
And soon the Deep Dark Woods were called the Woods of Light.
poem by Meriam Joseph
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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And In The House
And in the house
All is now silent
I rise and grope
In the dark, dark
And lo! Before me
A blue light I
A thin blue light
See I all a-shining
And leading me
And guiding me
Into the dark
In the long night
In to the long night!
Ah! father, father
Where are
You leading me:
The thin blue light
Now veers to here
And then to there
Now up
Now down
It plays:
And in the night
The long lone night
The seconds turn and turn!
And in the house
The lonely house
A soundless sound
Is humming:
The light
The thin blue light
Is leading still leading
And in the night
No time is passing
No hope of dawn
Or day
Is coming:
But dark
And dark:
Yet in the night
This night
Of black
A thrill felt I
And happiness
That never felt!
poem by Emmanuel George Cefai
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The House Was Quiet and The World Was Calm
The house was quiet and the world was calm.
The reader became the book; and summer night
Was like the conscious being of the book.
The house was quiet and the world was calm.
The words were spoken as if there was no book,
Except that the reader leaned above the page,
Wanted to lean, wanted much most to be
The scholar to whom his book is true, to whom
The summer night is like a perfection of thought.
The house was quiet because it had to be.
The quiet was part of the meaning, part of the mind:
The access of perfection to the page.
And the world was calm. The truth in a calm world,
In which there is no other meaning, itself
Is calm, itself is summer and night, itself
Is the reader leaning late and reading there.
poem by Wallace Stevens
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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The Woods
My sorrow lives in the woods.
I cannot complain to anyone.
I must bear it to the woods
in the deepest loneliness.
If ever in future times
someone comes for that reason
he can find in the woods
the shy sorrow of my heart.
When he sees far off in the woods,
alone and quiet,
the deepest shadows lying,
that is my somber sorrow
poem by James Comerford
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In The Quiet Of The Long Dark Night
IN THE QUIET OF THE LONG DARK NIGHT
In the quiet of the long dark night,
After a fast day,
I feel myself coming alive again-
The words move in my mind
And on the page.
I am no longer stuck in where I am deeply afraid-
I know I can write
And know I am alive again-
As if all that time waiting and praying
Was only to return me to my better self-
God being with us when we have faith in what we must do.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Cybil
I sit here, sad and lonely,
speaking to the sea.
As it's kindly listening to me,
in this little house that's empty.
Am I lost to be here?
To be in a little house before the sea.
As quiet as it might be,
beautified by tranquility.
Swallow flies above me,
Sunset is in front of me,
But you're not here beside of me,
this little house remains still incomplete.
In this little house,
I wish you come home,
I've been tired and lonesome.
I've stared at the sea for so long and long.
I sit here again, quiet and lonely.
I've been thinking thoughtfully.
From this little house, I see and see,
far off the sea, there's you,
and me..
poem by Kite Remedy
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The Tree
IN the dim woods, one tree
Was by the cunning seasons builded fair
With the rain's masonry
And delicate craft of air.
Unknown of anyone,
She was the wind's green daughter. Her the dove
Made, between leaf and sun,
His murmuring house of love.
Quiet as a seemly thought
Her infinite strength of shade she stretched around.
Peace like a spell she wrought
On that encloséd ground.
Bred of such lowly stuff,–
Blown mast, a sheltering day, a tender night,–
Now stars seem kin enough
To company her height.
She knows not whence she grew.
So in my heart, from some forgotten seed,
The lovely thought of you
Towered to the lovelier need.
poem by Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
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Right and Wrong
When people say
We need a quiet place when the world is dark
They're right
But wrong
We do need a quiet place when it's dark
But we also need one when it's light-
To think in
When people say
We need friends
When we're feeling down
They're right
But wrong
We do need friends
When we're feeling down,
But we also need friends
When we're not-
To laugh with
When people say
We need peace
In times of war
They're right
But wrong
We do need peace
In times of war,
But we also need peace
When there's already peace-
To stay that way
The Night of Fright
A dim night,
A chilly night,
A quiet night,
A dark night,
A cold night,
A silent night,
A scary night,
A desperate night,
The screaming fight
and the murderous height,
It was the night of Fright
poem by Sayjel Mistry
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In Thou dark stormy Night
All alone in the night
All alone with my own fright
A lightning strikes, runs across the dead black sky
I am alone
but I wonder, why?
In Thou dark stormy night
In Thou dark stormy night
I call your name with all my might
All alone hanging in the night
My arms are sore, my soul is light
I hear the thunder, in the cloudy black sky
I am scared
but I don't know, why?
In Thou dark stormy night
in Thou dark stormy night
I call your name with all my might
Inside Your house in the night
Calling Your name with all my might
Father! Father! Why have you forsaken me?
'You must die so my people can be free.'
In Thou dark stormy night
In Thou dark stormy night
Jesus drew his final breath
Saving us all from our own eternal death
poem by Summer Song
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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