Octavio 2
'If you are the morning tide
I am the first bird's cry'
i see the bird crying
in her
i see the morning tide
in you
let me reverse
you and her
let me make you
feel
what is it to be like her
let me know
how poetry heals
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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This Morning Bird
This morning bird likes to sing
She likes to hear the morning bells ring
This morning bell is nice and clear to me
This morning bird shows no sympathy
This morning bird is very calm
But not calm enough when it
Comes to cruelty and bombs
So be careful and be calm to this morning bird
Because her sounds are the best things u ever heard
poem by Va Rockeya Foy

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Just As The Tide Was A Flowing
[ music: traditional/lyric: arranged by 10,000 maniacs ]
On one morning
In the month of may
When all the birds
Were singing
I saw a lovely maiden stray
Across the fields at break of day
She softly sung her roundelay
The tide flows in
The tide flows out
Twice every day returning
Her cheeks were red
Her eyes were brown
Her hair in ringlets hanging down
Upon her face to hide the frown
Just as the tide was a flowing
The tide flows in
The tide flows out
Twice everyday returning
A sailors wife at home must bide
She halted heavily she sighed
He parted from poor me , a bride
Im widowed by the sea she cried
Just as the tide was a flowing
The tide flows in
The tide flows out
Twice every day returning
song performed by by 10000 Maniacs

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tide Rises, the Tide Falls, The
The tide rises, the tide falls,
The twilight darkens, the curlew calls;
Along the sea-sands damp and brown
The traveler hastens toward the town,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
Darkness settles on roofs and walls,
But the sea, the sea in darkness calls;
The little waves, with their soft, white hands
Efface the footprints in the sands,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
The morning breaks; the steeds in their stalls
Stamp and neigh, as the hostler calls;
The day returns, but nevermore
Returns the traveler to the shore.
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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The Tide Rises, the Tide Falls
The tide rises, the tide falls,
The twilight darkens, the curlew calls;
Along the sea-sands damp and brown
The traveller hastens toward the town,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
Darkness settles on roofs and walls,
But the sea, the sea in the darkness calls;
The little waves, with their soft, white hands,
Efface the footprints in the sands,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
The morning breaks; the steeds in their stalls
Stamp and neigh, as the hostler calls;
The day returns, but nevermore
Returns the traveller to the shore,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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Ultima Thule: The Tide Rises, The Tide Falls
The tide rises, the tide falls,
The twilight darkens, the curlew calls;
Along the sea-sands damp and brown
The traveller hastens toward the town,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
Darkness settles on roofs and walls,
But the sea, the sea in the darkness calls;
The little waves, with their soft, white hands,
Efface the footprints in the sands,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
The morning breaks; the steeds in their stalls
Stamp and neigh, as the hostler calls;
The day returns, but nevermore
Returns the traveller to the shore,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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My Boy Jack
1914-1918
'Have you news of my boy Jack?'
Not this tide.
'When d'you think that he'll come back?'
Not with this wind blowing, and this tide.
'Has anyone else had word of him?'
Not this tide.
For what is sunk will hardly swim,
Not with this wind blowing and this tide.
'Oh, dear, what comfort can I find?'
None this tide,
Nor any tide,
Except he did not shame his kind-
Not even with that wind blowing, and that tide.
Then hold your head up all the more,
This tide,
And every tide;
Because he was the son you bore,
And gave to that wind blowing and that tide!
poem by Rudyard Kipling

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Have You News of my Boy Jack?
'Have you news of my boy Jack?'
Not this tide.
'When d'you think that he'll come back?'
Not with this wind blowing, and this tide.
'Has anyone else had word of him?'
Not this tide.
For what is sunk will hardly swim,
Not with this wind blowing and this tide.
'Oh, dear, what comfort can I find?'
None this tide,
Nor any tide,
Except he did not shame his kind-
Not even with that wind blowing, and that tide.
Then hold your head up all the more,
This tide,
And every tide;
Because he was the son you bore,
And gave to that wind blowing and that tide!
poem by Rudyard Kipling

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The blue sky in my home
The blue sky in my home
Good morning, bird
Good morning, sun
The blue sky in my home
I miss in my every day
For my clothes wet
To be dry
Good morning, bird
Good morning, sun
I miss you singing in the morning
When the sun rising
I miss you singing in the morning
When my mom cooking
The blue sky the singing bird the sun rising
Before I leaving
Praying to raise up my dreaming
Kadilangu, feb/03/2oo8
poem by Khoirun Niam

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To a Sleeping Child
Lips, lips, open!
Up comes a little bird that lives inside
Up comes a little bird, and peeps, and out he flies.
All the day he sits inside, and sometimes he sings,
Up he comes, and out he goes at night to spread his wings.
Little bird, little bird, whither will you go?
Round about the world, while nobody can know.
Little bird, little bird, whither do you flee?
Far away around the world, while nobody can see.
Little bird, little bird, how long will you roam?
All round the world and around again home;
Round the round world, and back through the air,
When the morning comes, the little bird is there.
Back comes the little bird and looks and in he flies,
Up wakes the little boy, and opens both his eyes.
Sleep, sleep, little boy, little bird’s away,
Little bird will come again, by the peep of day;
Sleep, little boy, the little bird must go
Round about the world, while nobody can know.
Sleep, sleep sound, little bird goes round,
Round and round he goes; sleep, sleep sound.
poem by Arthur Hugh Clough

Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Morning Morgantown
When morning comes to morgantown
The merchants roll their awnings down
The milktrucks make their morning rounds
In morning, morgantown
Well rise up early, with the sun
To ride the bus while everyone is yawning
And the day is young
In morning, morgantown
Morning morgantown
Buy your dreams a dollar down
Morning any town you name
Mornings just the same
Well find a table in the shade
And sip our tea and lemonade
And watch the morning on parade
In morning, morgantown
Ladies in their rainbow fashions
Colored stop and go lights flashing
Well wink at total strangers passing in
Morning, morgantown
Morning morgantown
Buy your dreams a dollar down
Morning any town you name
Mornings just the same
Id like to buy you everything
A wooden bird with painted wings
A window full of colored rings
In morning, morgantown.
But the only thing I have to give
To make you smile, to win you with
Are all the mornings still to live
In morning, morgantown
song performed by by Joni Mitchell

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lonely Little Bird
One little bird sitting on the sidewalk
Almost as lonely as me.
Fly away
and you're still as lonely as can be.
It’s sad
We can’t make many friends
Not even in
our imaginations' dens.
Someone crying on their friends shoulder
Boo-who
At least there
is some one with you.
You're not a lonely
flying bird,
You're not a lonely
person, blurred
into the black background
You’re not the one
who’s heart breaks with a sound
A word from another person
Quit crying wuss
You’re not the one to be crying
The only ones to be crying are the
bird and me, lonely even after trying
to make friends
and be free
poem by Gee Cii Schnider

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Crimson Tide
I wake up in the morning
I see the bright sunshine
O Lord, let be so good
A day to reckon with
I wish the day would speed by
To be with you
O Crimson Tide
O Crimson Tide
I need you my Lady
Come on Crimson Tide
I need you my sweet Lady
Here comes the sunset
Here comes my own sunshine
O Lord let be so good
My day I've reckoned with
I wish the night would slow down
Never to leave you
O Crimson Tide
O Crimson Tide
I need you my Lady
Come on Crimson Tide
I need you my sweet Lady
poem by Kolabomi Adeko

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We Can Make The Morning
(words & music by j. ramsey)
I just thought I heard a small voice crying
Looked again and saw that it was me
I feel like a little boy denying
That he fears the night cause he cant see
Then a larger thought said stop your crying
Dont be scared to search cause you may find
Fate holds out a candle for your footsteps
Time rolls back the shadows of your mind
Its a long, long lonely night
You can make the morning if you try
Its a long, long lonely night
Oh, we can make the morning if we try
Girl, we can make the morning you and i
Together, together, together
Loneliness is darkness first companion
Spend the night alone and faith may bend
Share it all and see how fear starts fading
Chase away the shadows with a friend
Dawns elusive light is just beginning
Now the day can push away the night
Dreams can make the sun feel much brighter
Hope creates a foothold for the light
Its a long, long lonely night
We can make the morning if we try
Its a long, long lonely night
We can make the morning if we try
Girl, we can make the morning you and i, oh
Together
Its a long, long lonely night
We can make the morning if we try
Its a long, long lonely night
We can make the morning if we try
Its a long, long lonely night
We can make the morning if we try
song performed by by Elvis Presley

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bird's Wish
The bird asks me
What I’d do
If I am a bird.
I tell him
High and high I’d soar
So high that I’d see the earth no more
I’d be a bird on the tree
I’d be a bird that’s free!
What you’d do bird
If you’re a man?
To be fair
It’d be my only prayer to God
Don’t be so hard
Make me once again a bird!
Saying this the bird sings
And spreads its wings to a sky
I can never fly!
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay

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SOMNAMBULISM
I
Night is above me,
And Night is above the night.
The sea is beside me soughing, or is still.
The earth as a somnambulist moves on
In a strange sleep ...
A sea-bird cries.
And the cry wakes in me
Dim, dead sea-folk, my sires—
Who more than myself are me.
Who sat on their beach long nights ago and saw
The sea in its silence;
And cursed it or implored;
Or with the Cross defied;
Then on the morrow in their boats went down.
II
Night is above me ...
And Night is above the night.
Rocks are about me, and, beyond, the sand ...
And the low reluctant tide,
That rushes back to ebb a last farewell
To the flotsam borne so long upon its breast.
Rocks ... But the tide is out,
And the slime lies naked, like a thing ashamed
That has no hiding-place.
And the sea-bird hushes—
The bird and all far cries within my blood—
And earth as a somnambulist moves on.
poem by Cale Young Rice from Sea Poems (1921)

Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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A Paradise in a little house
Good morning Lord...
Thanks for this beautiful morning
I still can hear the song of bird
I can see sun shines touch my skin
I can feel the wind ease my pain away
I can see my little son smile and say 'good morning'
I can hear my husband lead to pray
Thanks for everything you have done
So, i can feel this little house as a paradise
Chorale for M' lady Penny
The black bird sweetly tunes his throat.
A stream of liquid notes which float.
As if suspended somewhere
in between fact and fantasy.
Thus starts the morning symphony
The throstle warbles his reply,
the skylark joins in happily
from his position in the sky.
Each song bird now will raise its voice
in interweaving melody.
To demonstrate that they rejoice
because the morning brings release
from the terrors of the night.
Their morning chorus My delight.
27-Feb-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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Our Bird In Your Cage
we have this bird
we both own it and love it and care for it
our bird
and you have this cage
that you only own
golden, new and strong and as you say it
so reliable
that when our bird is in that cage
it will be safe
and cannot escape
we feed this bird together
and give it water and birdseeds
and a place of twigs and swing
where the bird can play
and perch upon
like it is on a tree
days and years
we keep this bird in your cage
and we see it is dying
and wanting to be free
yet you say, this sickness is just temporary
time heals what has wounded it
and shall forget the power of its wings
days and more years
we keep this bird in your cage
and i have not listened at all
to the sad song of that bird
her waning chirps
her weakened wings
her way of losing hold to the dreams of its wings
today we see this bird is dead
but you have no sadness at all
you say, you will buy another bird
again to be kept in your cage
i could have told you
i am the bird in your cage and i too have forgotten the power of
my wings
i could have told you, i have long died
and have forgotten what freedom is, what love is, what i am
in the first place. How can i ever tell you?
you are my cage.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Ay De Mi
O bird, that used to press,
Thy head against my cheek
With touch that seem'd to speak,
And ask a tender 'yes' -
Ay de mi, my bird:
Ay de mi, my bird, my bird -
Ay de mi, my bird.
O tender downy breast,
And warmly beating heart,
That beating seem'd a part
Of me who gave it rest -
Ay de mi, my bird:
Ay de mi, my bird, my bird -
Ay de mi, my bird.
poem by George Eliot

Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Heard From The Kindergarten Class Just Across The Road
'good morning ma'am
good morning bird
good morning cat
good morning dog
good morning clouds
good morning sun'
and then they all sing
and dance the
tra-la-la tra-la-la-la
beautiful joyous morning here.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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