Solitude And The Song
alone i only have to treasure
the peace in my mind
my heart sings but let no one
hear it
not even the leaves
looking for a song
their ears dipping
in the wind
alone the Furies lets me
on the clear conscience
there are no fears
nothing itches nothing bites
there is only the soothing
effect of words
the lines that lull me to sleep
in the hammock of
my dreams
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
We Sing History
History sings, sings what?
Violence? Peace? No.
History sings of truth…
History sings of facts,
which becomes music to our ears.
Like birds chirping
early in the morning.
We learn it. We treasure it.
We sing it… we sing it.
We became part of it.
It was always burning
since the world’s been turning…
History is an endless song.
Distressing, cheerful.
So many cries, so many deaths.
They fought for freedom,
we fight for peace.
Have we won?
Haven’t they heard we won the war
what do they keep on fighting for?
History sings of truth…
History sings of facts,
which becomes music to our ears?
Like stars gleaming
in the dark naked sky.
It’s always there.
So why sing it? Why hear it?
Why learn it? Why treasure it?
Because…
we’re part of it….
poem by Fritzner Erauda
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My Heart Sings
My heart sings.
My heart sings the songs of happiness.
My heart sings the songs of joy.
My heart sings the songs of peace.
My heart sings the songs of the Blues.
My heart sings the songs of the Gospel.
My heart sings the songs of good news.
My heart cries a melody for all to hear.
My heart sings the harmonies of love.
My heart sings a song of beauty
that comes from the Thorne Birds
just before they die.
My heart sings songs to keep me alive.
My heart sings songs for as long as it beats.
My heart sings forever.
My heart sings haluwasa.
My heart sings.
poem by Jennifer Burns
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The Song of an Angel
Be still, and listen to the wind,
As it whispers through the leaves,
For the gentle song of angels,
Is blowing in the breeze.
A song that sings of little hands,
That did so many jobs,
Hands that now are gently clasped,
Within the grasp of God.
A song that sings of a little heart,
That always poured out love,
A heart that now is full of joy,
As God holds him up above.
A song that sings of little smiles,
That brightened many days,
Smiles that now warm the hearts,
Of angels on their way.
A song that sings of a little boy,
That always was a friend,
A little boy who's shown us all,
That God's love never ends.
Be still, and listen to the wind,
As it whispers through these leaves,
For the gentle song of an angel,
Is blowing in its breeze.
-In loving memory of Charles McMichael
poem by Jean Penner
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To The Six Furies Of My Mind...
we,
who are being attacked by
the Five Furies
mine now Six
have no other possible defense
to protect
our minds
but to write these lines
so do not ask me
why i am writing th
ese
i am being chased
and so i am running away
i have to run away still
because i am being chased like wind to another wind
like nothing
to another nothing
i am
perhaps still afraid of
the death of my
mind
the death of the wind
the trees will die too
the fireflies turn off their lights
the birds fall down the trees
i, who want
to still think and think to think some more
has no other option
i write
to make the Six Furies know
that i also know how to protect myself
that i am
a survivor
i do not speak here
but the Six Furies must stop a while and hear
they must listen
lest they shall die in their own noise
like fire on their long hair
i make
my plea,
i am guilty, i am guilty
i know i am guilty of all the lies and deceit
but give me more time please
to choose
a happy
death.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Trapped...
I am as free as an angel in flight,
Yet I am unable to fly to the heavens.
I yearn to tell of the storm in my heart,
Yet each word I speak is stolen in silence.
I long to reach out to you and hold you,
Yet I have become frozen in time.
I need you to hear the song in my heart,
Yet my heart now sings in silence.
I have a burning desire to make you mine,
Yet I just dont know how to light that flame.
I have become trapped by my own fears,
Yet still this dreamers dreams live vividly.
My dreams of being with you seem to have ended.
Yet in all of life, there is no ending...
Spread the love... The peace will follow...
poem by Cosmic Dreamer
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The Song Of An African
The Song Builds
The Song Destroys
The Song Dispenses
In Suspence The Song Reveals
In Time I Sing It
At Times I Bring It
To The Bank Near To My Heart
I Lie Awake With My Sleeping Eyes
And The Song Sings Herself
The Lyric Sings Himself
The My Mind Braniwashed With Honey To My Ears
The Song Feeds
The Song Provides Seeds
With Knowledge It Is Food.
With Wisdom Declared Wate
The Song Heals
And Yes In Pays The Bilss
For Long Named It Belief
So Long Came To My Mind Hardwork
Percevearance Its Clan To Tribe Success
The Song Is Mine
Oh Yes It Is.
poem by Anele ''The African Son'' kaPotelwa
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To Hear Those Words Again
To hear those words again,
Would be music to my ears.
Eliminating all my worries,
Smashing all my fears.
To hear those words again,
Coming straight from your heart.
It's easy to know when you are here,
But distance now keeps us apart.
To hear those words again,
To let me know you are there.
For everyday I say it to you,
To let you know I still care.
To hear those words again,
Even though I know you do.
Just once after all this time,
Let me hear 'I love you'.
poem by Adam McKim
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Song In The Wind
There's a wind in the air
Filled with song
A gentle voice
Low and long -
It sings life
And it sings time
It blows so easily through
Hearts and minds -
It's the word of wisdom
And the entirety of the ages
Embracing all being
From the audacious to the sages -
It sings out
Lifelong
Continuously calling
In a soulful song -
It's always there for everyone
Blowing free
Even unto our very last day
As it carries us, one by one, into eternity -
It is the Song in the wind
The Voice of the soul
It's the living sound
Every heart mysteriously, somehow does hear and know -
poem by Smoky Hoss
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Other one's words
We all go to sleep
With someone’s words
In our minds
Words of kindness
Words of anger
Words of every kind
They carry us off to sleep
And perhaps temper
And shape our dreams
Words said in caring
The most soothing
it seems
In anger or sadness
In calm and in madness
Words in our minds, we’ll find
As we drift off to sleep
Be it fretful or deep…and
Our mind slowly lowers it’s blinds
We all go to sleep… be it shallow or deep
Hearing some other one’s…
Words in our minds
poem by David Whalen
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Nightingale
(mccafferty, sweet, charlton, agnew)
1975 nazareth(dunfermline)ltd.
Sings a sad song for lonely women
Sings about women to lonely men
Sings a peace song to a soldier
Sings about loneliness to a friend
Shes a song, song singer
Let her music touch your heart
Shes a song singer from her heart
Sings a melody to haunt you
And some words to make you cry
If youre sad shell make you happy
When youre down shell take you high
Shes a song, song singer
Let her music touch your heart
Shes a song singer from her heart
Shes a song, song singer
Let her music touch your heart
Shes a song singer from her heart
Shes a song, song singer
Let her music touch your heart
Shes a song singer from her heart
song performed by by Nazareth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Autuemn's Leave's Of Royalty
As the wind caressed playfully by my side,
It brought up the Autumn leaves that engulfed the sky,
Spreading colors of red, orange, yellow, the colors of you,
Like dust in the wind. You were a lovely rose dancing astray,
In my mind, soul, heart you were there to stay,
Whispering louder for if people should hear,
The words ‘I loved you” were very clear,
As it lifted me into the sky piercing me with its power,
I was enveloped in the leaves belonging to your royalty,
Love was enchanted in these magical leaves, For your heart to mine,
For they meant I belonged to you
My Beloved Autumn Queen
poem by Daniel Filippov
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Ballad of Dreamland
I hid my heart in a nest of roses,
Out of the sun's way, hidden apart;
In a softer bed than the soft white snow's is,
Under the roses I hid my heart.
Why would it sleep not? why should it start,
When never a leaf of the rose-tree stirred?
What made sleep flutter his wings and part?
Only the song of a secret bird.
Lie still, I said, for the wind's wing closes,
And mild leaves muffle the keen sun's dart;
Lie still, for the wind on the warm seas dozes,
And the wind is unquieter yet than thou art.
Does a thought in thee still as a thorn's wound smart?
Does the fang still fret thee of hope deferred?
What bids the lips of thy sleep dispart?
Only the song of a secret bird.
The green land's name that a charm encloses,
It never was writ in the traveller's chart,
And sweet on its trees as the fruit that grows is,
It never was sold in the merchant's mart.
The swallows of dreams through its dim fields dart,
And sleep's are the tunes in its tree-tops heard;
No hound's note wakens the wildwood hart,
Only the song of a secret bird.
ENVOI
In the world of dreams I have chosen my part,
To sleep for a season and hear no word
Of true love's truth or of light love's art,
Only the song of a secret bird.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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Her Song
Can you hear how she sings her song
and how it contents her so?
Can you tell when she sings it
where it has her go?
No, I think only she can say
as it takes her to a place
beyond this world, beyond this time
to somewhere out in space.
There she finds the comfort
that her soul is searching for.
There she finds the enchantment
that her fingers are aching for.
That's why each day she sings her song.
It's a transport for her mind.
For without her song she would always be
in a place her heart can't find.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Only In My Mind
thoughts fire
mind blaze
run on wind
words sing mind melodies
words sing song new images
dance in heart veins flow
words shape shift
into new thoughts
concepts poems
several are written
in time heart beats
wonder stirs anew
but only in my mind
where the beauty sings
sung sight meditation
no words given unto paper
no words processed on light screen
no words kept mind record
dart of honeybird flight
bats fly sonar night vision
wing beats of wonder
words released born free
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Evensong
It is late, on a cold, dark, wintry afternoon;
Up high in a tree, a small bird merrily croons.
Trade in the town, has now begun to wind down,
And taking centre stage, is the bird’s sweet sound.
Like an operatic singer, his voice soars high,
And his song delights many, as they pass by.
Your ears can not help, but hear his loud call,
As the sun, once again, sets and darkness falls.
He sings for joy, at the very top of his voice;
To listen to his song, you have little choice.
He sits at the very top of the tallest tree,
Singing so loudly; his heart full of glee.
His plaintive call pierces the cool air,
As he sings his song, without a care.
A pure quality, his sweet song holds,
And he sings it out, so bright and bold.
His singsong attracts many a nice comment;
His performance appears to be Heaven sent.
Of his captivated audience, he is unaware;
His song boasts beauty, beyond compare.
Like a church choir, as they sing evensong,
This small bird sings so very keen and strong.
Through the dark streets, home, I wearily wind;
Sad to be leaving the bird’s sweet song behind.
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Norse lullaby
The sky is dark and the hills are white
As the storm-king speeds from the north to-night,
And this is the song the storm-king sings,
As over the world his cloak he flings:
"Sleep, sleep, little one, sleep;"
He rustles his wings and gruffly sings:
"Sleep, little one, sleep."
On yonder mountain-side a vine
Clings at the foot of a mother pine;
The tree bends over the trembling thing,
And only the vine can hear her sing:
"Sleep, sleep, little one, sleep;
What shall you fear when I am here?
Sleep, little one, sleep."
The king may sing in his bitter flight,
The tree may croon to the vine to-night,
But the little snowflake at my breast
Liketh the song I sing the best,--
Sleep, sleep, little one, sleep;
Weary thou art, anext my heart
Sleep, little one, sleep.
poem by Eugene Field
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Why Can't You Listen?
Why can't you listen?
Why can't you hear words from Me?
Why can't you sit and just be...
To listen.
Listen.
Why can't you listen?
Why can't you hear words from Me?
Why can't you sit and just be...
To listen.
Listen.
Why do you call Me?
Why do you say you're alone?
You wish for Me to appear.
And yet when I'M near.
Your closed ears wont hear Me!
Why do you pray to Me?
Master I Am of your World.
I'M with you there silently.
But you will not see...
Everything that is Me!
One I Am and only One!
Maker of your Moon, Stars and Sun.
All things on Earth that is there...
Is there if you ask,
But your faith does not last!
Why can't you listen?
Why can't you hear words from Me?
Why can't you sit and just be...
To listen.
Listen.
Why do you call Me?
Why do you say you're alone?
You wish for Me to appear.
And yet when I'M near.
Your closed ears wont hear.
A word.
Why can't you listen?
Why can't you hear words from Me?
Why can't you sit and just be...
To listen to Me.
Listen...
And let Me in!
'Father...
Clear my mind of these obstacles! '
I'M trying!
But you wish it 'your' way.
And not the way MY way is.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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One Clear Voice
The whole world is talking
Drowning out my voice
How can I hear myself
With all this noise
But all this confusion
Just disappears
When I find a quiet place
Where I can hear
(chorus)
One clear voice
Calling out for me to listen
One clear voice
Whispers words of wisdom
I close my eyes
till I find what Ive been missing
If Im very still, I will hear
One clear voice
Im always searching
For which path to take
Sometimes Im so afraid
To make mistakes
From somewhere inside me
Stronger than my fears
Just like the sound of music
To my ears, I hear
Chorus
song performed by by Peter Cetera
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Garden of Flowers
When the wind
Sings a lonely song,
There is tear-mist
In the air.
The cold autumn
Is exhausting,
The fallen leaves sigh
In the windswept park.
I drink wine
Before going to sleep;
But even in dreams,
I have forgotten how to smile.
When I enter the grave,
Will anyone recall
Walking with me
In a garden of flowers?
poem by Uriah Hamilton
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Melancholy Song
-believing that humans are made in the image of God
has its implications;
living life here, while looking There
brings about the most precarious, melancholy situations-
There's a sad song singing
In the soul of the wind,
And yet a joyful wind blowing
Through every soul's song.
It never stays
And it never goes,
Calling our hearts onward
To wherever it flows.
It's a song of sadness
And of good cheer,
A song of great warmth
And no small fear.
The song of the masses
And the song of one,
The sound of breaking darkness in the night
And the music of the rising sun.
It's the melancholy in me
And great joy,
It's the deep desire to stay
And yet homeward go.
I know this song
And the tears it brings,
I hear this song
Within my heart, where it sings.
It leaves me lonely
But, never alone,
For it's ever with me
Singing of a place, called Home.
poem by Smoky Hoss
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