En.Citatepedia^®.ro

When We Get Old My Friend

when we get old my friend
when our mustaches and beards
and hairs are as white as snow
we meet on this part of the plain
beside the red palm trees
at the foot of this mountain

we sit on the soft grass
and i get my guitar and
we sing a matt monroe song

we shall serenade the stars
and the moon deep in the
cool night and we shall feel
the brushes of gentle air
on our skins and we shall
smell the scent of the night
flowers and the salty breeze.

i'll take the first voice and
you take the second voice.

let us not talk about Rosario
or Alicia, or Rosa or Maria,
none of them has learned
to live with us in any way.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Holy Night

Everything sighs with moonlight
Who owns the sun and stars?
Prayer sails outside of mortal time
My soul lives in another dimension

Gentle palm trees sway in shadows
The sea shines in wake of the moon
Waves role and ebb on quiet shores
Sacred moment swells with eternity

The universe is a friend to sojourners
Stars of Holy portent glow with awe
Gentle night along this white sand
Mystic soft light on kelp and shells

Lights from the small mountain village
They fish the sea like centuries before
I sit on an old rock of ancient lava
The glimmer of the stars is hypnotic

Dreams mingle with beauty true
Fellowship with wonder and peace
Assurance that all will be well
Spirit in the sweet breeze and tide

Gratitude ascends on this Holy Night

poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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Moonlight Seranade

I stand at your gate
And the song that I sing is of moonlight
I stand and I wait
For the touch of your hand in the June light
The roses are side you
A moonlight serenade
The star's are a glow
And tonight how there light
Sets me dreaming
My love do you know
That your eyes, are like stars
Brightly beaming
I bring you, and sing you
A moonlight serenade
Let us stray, till break of day
In loves valley of dreams
Just you and I
A summer sky
A heavenly breeze
Kissing the trees
So don't let me wait
Come to me tenderly in the June night
I stand at your gate
And I sing you a song in the moonlight
A love song, my darlin
A moonlight serenade
So don't let me wait
Come to me tenderly in the June night
I stand at your gate
And I sing you a song in the moonlight
A love song, my darlin
A moonlight serenade
A moonlight serenade

song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Nightingale Near The House

Here is the soundless cypress on the lawn:
It listens, listens. Taller trees beyond
Listen. The moon at the unruffled pond
Stares. And you sing, you sing.

That star-enchanted song falls through the air
From lawn to lawn down terraces of sound,
Darts in white arrows on the shadowed ground;
And all the night you sing.

My dreams are flowers to which you are a bee
As all night long I listen, and my brain
Receives your song, then loses it again
In moonlight on the lawn.

Now is your voice a marble high and white,
Then like a mist on fields of paradise,
Now is a raging fire, then is like ice,
Then breaks, and it is dawn.

poem by Harold Monro
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Moon And Stars Above

A candle flickers
as the night breeze descends
casting shadows on the wall
of things we never saw.
They dance to the gentle rhythm
created by the breeze
as the clouds of evening
begin to gather in the sky.
Young lovers walk under
the moon and stars above
to kiss and cuddle in profusion
under the nearest tree.
Slowly night closes in
as the night chorus serenade
the young lovers
under the moon and stars above.
All too soon, they are parted
as night turns into day
and they have to wait again
until the night chorus signal
another close of day.

6 September 2008

poem by David Harris
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Your song

Stars fill the sky,
Night is so young.
I feel so happy and high,
So, sing me a song.
Bring your guitar,
and raise up your voice.
Take me to a place so far,
away from people and their noise.
Your song takes me up,
and guide me through the haze.
Your song never stopped,
to throw me in a maze,
A maze where i'm breathless but free
where i love you and you love me.
Sing me that song about your life,
and how it started when we met.
Sing me that song about our love,
that song i shall never forget.
Sing me your song and bring me to life,
for those moments only..i surfive.

Angels took your song and wrote it in the sky,
with the beautiful cluster stars.
All the world saw it and they knew,
we are in love and you belong to my arms.
Your song is the love anthem,
As you sing that, you will wait for me,
you love me,
you need me.
Your song puts rules for love.
Sing your song all our lives,
i'll never get enough...

poem by Eman Awad
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To Jane: The Keen Stars Were Twinkling

I.
The keen stars were twinkling,
And the fair moon was rising among them,
Dear Jane.
The guitar was tinkling,
But the notes were not sweet till you sung them
Again.

II.
As the moon's soft splendour
O'er the faint cold starlight of Heaven
Is thrown,
So your voice most tender
To the strings without soul had then given
Its own.

III.
The stars will awaken,
Though the moon sleep a full hour later
To-night;
No leaf will be shaken
Whilst the dews of your melody scatter
Delight.

IV.
Though the sound overpowers,
Sing again, with your dear voice revealing
A tone
Of some world far from ours,
Where music and moonlight and feeling
Are one.

poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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A Dance in the Moonlight

The night so serene
As whispers of the cool breeze
Touch my soul with a calmness not known before
It is a full moon tonight my love, sleep no more

Away to the mountain top we go
To relieve the pleasure of the night
Beaky birds as couples hurried to nest
Chatting the lover’s song

The fragrance of your closeness I breathe
And the succulence of your womanhood I feel
As we tango in the naked night
With no emotion to hide

I live for this dance every full moon
My Cinderella whose face is hidden
Dressed in red all in a mirage
I woke up again, to meet an empty bed.

poem by Jesuroboowie Gift Imafidon
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Chicago Sestina

I am surprised by the streets of Chicago
when the palm of winter grips them with snow
as if to forgive the city’s mistakes
and give it a canvas that’s new, white, and clean–
its fingers, the branches on all of the trees
kneading the air that blows in from the lake.

I’ve never lived next to the pulse of the lake
(until I set foot down the side of Chicago)
breathing in through the streets and out through the trees
welcoming the cool of the wet, numbing snow.
It lets my mind slip into thinking it’s clean
as if to personally forgive my mistakes.

“But what have you done to forgive your mistakes? ”
Did I ask this? Or is that the voice of the lake?
Some days, not even does it appear clean,
worn down from its tall standing neighbor, Chicago.
It scrapes at the sky, asking it for more snow
to stick to and freeze the trunks of the trees.

If I were a branch on one of these trees
incapable of making a single mistake,
I’d grab at the sky as it shook out the snow
and grow my roots thick till they tasted the lake.
But I wouldn’t bend to the force of Chicago
that’s constantly keeping me from being clean.

And what does it mean to try to be clean?
I don’t understand the stillness of the trees
when they’re being attacked by the size of Chicago
as if to glorify the city’s mistakes
that glisten like stars at night on the lake
before it all froze and was covered with snow.

Ah! To imagine how long there’s been snow.
How can something this old still feel so clean
and dance through the wind that swoops in from the lake?
Is it the kneading by the spiny branches on trees
trusting that there will be no more mistakes
that leaves these the only pure thing in Chicago?

Here comes the snow that seeks out the trees
Am I now clean? Where are my mistakes?
Chicago belongs where it lay with the lake.

poem by Brian Maloney
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Psalm for 9-11 (dedicated to Fr. Mychal Judge)

I hear your soft voice
In the hushed evening breeze
as gentle wind fills
these tall, murmuring trees.

For you're never too far;
your soft breath I can feel.
My soul stirs with faith
that no anger can steal.

Through the cold, empty night
you fill my dark soul.
Your brilliant light breaks
death's harsh hold.

In the morning I'll hear
your clear voice proclaim
that my life you've restored,
bitter tears wiped away.

poem by Steven Federle
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Rebel To Rebel

When the night winds down and my thoughts run deep
And the Lord hangs a black cat moon
As I lie awake I swear I heard a song in the wind
In the southern breeze I can hear the strummin'
of a six string just outta tune
And a whisky soaked voice
Singing 'bout places he's been
Cuttin' through the night
Like a siren's song
He's tellin' me tonight
Gotta spread the news along
Chorus:
Rebel to rebel
To anyone who's ever tried
Rebel to rebel
To take on the other side
Callin' out his name as night is falling
A brother's voice is calling
Sending messages through the past
To rebels like me and you
I can see his face as I watch the stars
From a tour bus heading from town
With a wink and a smile
He'd tell me things words couldn't say
To be a street survivor
Boy you gotta stand tall
Keep that dream in your heart
I'll be there in the fight
Nothing gonna stand in our way
Well I'm taking his advice
As I sing this song
Let fortune roll the dice
And don't you ever forget where you 're from
Chorus:
Rebel to rebel
Now I see him walk away
Rebel to rebel
Here it come
Now I hear his voice again
Rebel to rebel
To anyone who's ever tried
Rebel to rebel
To take on the other side
Callin' out his name as night is falling
A brothers voice is calling
Rebel to rebel oooh rebels like me
Rebel to rebel, rebel to rebel, rebel to rebel

song performed by by 38 Special
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Old Old Woodstock

Oh dont it get you
Get you when youre through
Feel the breezes blowing all around your coat
Oh dont it get you
When you gotta roam
Hear the children singing
daddys coming home
Going down to old old woodstock
Feel the cool night breeze
Going down to old old woodstock
Going down to give my baby a squeeze
Going down to old old woodstock
Feel the cool night breeze
Going down to old old woodstock
Way behind the shady trees
Here I come a swaggering
Way on over the ridge
See the water flowing way beneath the bridge
And my womans waiting
By the kitchen door
Im driving along
In my old beat up car
Going down to old old woodstock
Feel the cool night breeze
Going down to old old woodstock
Give my child a squeeze
Going down to old old woodstock
To feel the cool night breeze
Going down to old old woodstock
Way behind the shady trees
Listen, oh dont it get you
Get you in your throat
Feel the breezes blowing
All around your coat
Lord dont it get you
When youre bound to roam
Hear your children sing
daddys coming home
Going down to old old woodstock
To feel the cool night breeze
Give my child a squeeze
Going down to old old woodstock
To feel the cool night breeze
Going down to old old woodstock
Way behind the shady trees
Going down to old old woodstock.....

song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Natures Secrets

The floral dance we never see
On summer night
Past oaken tree.
Lit by the moon
They sway and sing
And on the wind
Their melodies ring.
As storm clouds huddle close
To cry
The sun, their host,
Just wanders by
To speak of tales
The heavens did tell.
But cloudburst bids a last farewell.
The trees that stand and watch the sky
Waving at us passers by.
Miming opera on high.
Stemming tears with unheard sigh.
In rhyming verse
The breeze does bring.
Mutes do converse
As branches cling.
The stars and moon
Sing every tune
They've learned
From serenades below.
Such lunar crooning
Sees dancing stars swooning
As we all
Sleep through this astral show.
Such secrets that sweet nature hides
In flowers scent, or rolling tides.

poem by Kevin East
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Out Of A Deep Sleep

Cypress trees, magnolia moss
Flowers in the blessed moonlight
Your soft voice like an angel
Search the world but only love satisfies
Love makes the stars shine bright
Darling your eyes bring me joy
How I long for thee day and night
A friend to kiss good morning
A lover and a fire in the night
No lust can conqueror my heart
For you my dearest have won
There you are a dream and a gift
Out of a deep sleep I have come

poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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O Beauty of Night...

As the golden sun goes to rest,
And the sky drape into black blanket,
Now take your turn
O beauty of Night – Moon.

Variety of moods makes me wonder,
Sometimes you look like circular disc,
At times spongy ball of cotton
O beauty of Night – Moon.

Eyes long to catch the glimpse,
Hands reach to hold you,
Lips hum song for you,
O beauty of Night – Moon.

Play not hide & seek,
Cover not behind the dark cloud
Unveil your beauty for me to gaze
O beauty of Night – Moon.

Cool gentle breeze blowing in silent night
Urge my heart to
Bathe in the white beam
O beauty of Night - Moon.

Reflection of my love I see in you
Fall down from the starry sky
To hold you in my arms
O beauty of Night – Moon.

poem by Geeta Nair
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The Song Of Exile

My homeland has many palm-trees
and the thrush-song fills its air;
no bird here can sing as well
as the birds sing over there.

We have fields more full of flowers
and a starrier sky above,
we have woods more full of life
and a life more full of love.

Lonely night-time meditations
please me more when I am there;
my homeland has many palm-trees
and the thrush-song fills its air.

Such delights as my land offers
Are not found here nor elsewhere;
lonely night-time meditations
please me more when I am there;
My homeland has many palm-trees
and the thrush-song fills its air.

Don't allow me, God, to die
without getting back to where
I belong, without enjoying
the delights found only there,
without seeing all those palm-trees,
hearing thrush-songs fill the air.

poem by Antônio Gonçalves Dias
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Voice From The Mountain

Voice from the mountain
And a voice from the sea
Voice in my neighbourhood
And a voice calling me.
Tell me my friend my friend
Tell me with love
Where can it end it end
Voice from above.
The sound on the ocean wave
And the sound in the tree
Sound in a country lane
Say you can be free.
Tell me you crowd you crowd
Tell me again
Tell me out loud out loud
This sound is rain.
Tune from the hillside
And tune full of light
A flute in the morning
And a chime in the night.
I know the game again
I know the score
I know my name my name
But this tune is more.
Voice from the mountain
And voice from the sea
Voice from in my neighbourhood
And a voice calling me.
Tell me my friend my friend
Tell me with love
Where can it end it end
Voice from above.

song performed by by Nick Drake
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Birth of Spring

The Birth of Spring
By: Adam M. Snow

A birth of Spring brings flowers bloom,
A beauty that reigns from nature's womb;
Bringing forth a new day of yore;
A beauty that reigns forevermore.
Heaving the life of nature to nature,
As the world within matures.

The flowers blooms ever so gracefully,
A Spring sunshine O' so blissfully.
The life of Spring so frail and gentle,
Like a rose or that of lentil.

It is evermore so sweet to wonder,
The scent of Spring would sunder.
And by the night, the stars glisten be,
Spring at it's glory, a song decrees.

A melody so sweet and peaceful to be heard;
The calming voice of nature's word,
That glistens the wind and flowers alike,
Flowing 'gainst the wind like a shrike.

She dance with a melody,
Like a wild felidae;
The petals of roses flows the wind.
I stand here in awe of nature's friend.

poem by Adam M. Snow
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Spring's Accomplishments

Spring brings with it a warm, gentle breeze
Along with the trees sprouting their baby soft leaves
Gently tapping the ground are the soft showers
Bringing around soft, springtime flowers
Now here they come, the butterflies and the bees
Attracted to the gardens and newly awakened trees
The trees emanate such a calming scent of sap
And the birds nestle down for a peaceful nap
As Easter approaches, the sunshine gets stronger
And as spring continues, the days get longer
The spring goes into a deep slumber
And who takes over then? It's summer!

poem by Caroline Bulleck
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OH, Angel in Heaven Above

Oh, Angel Eyes One Day I heard an Angel's voice & I Said To The Angel I see Your Big Beautiful Eyes in The Haven's Above, OH, Angel in Heaven Above,
OH! Wont you Come Down here & Talk to me..I long to Hear your Soft Sweet Voice Sing to me, When you just Talk to me..When the Heaven above Had opened up & your wings stretched out so proud & wide with Your feathers unfolding, like a gentle
tide, Soring throw the midnight sky so Gracefully, Just like an Swan Swimming in a pond. & then
an Angel Appeared, Oh to my eyes My dearest Angels the most beautiful site, I have ever seen that has
just came from Heaven Above, Standing In front of me singing that never ending Sweet time Summer song So
Gracefully with your Angel's eyes, they shine so bright It, lights the darkness of a moonless
midnight sky. As you Talk to me with those Sweet worlds of Fraze in my Ear, Oh so sexy, soft &
sweet, Oh How I love it......I had such Fun hearing it. But now That I am down & out For Awhile.
Can you Repair my Broken Heart so I Can take control of my life again. That you Have Broke, For
Which You Don't Seem To Talk to Me any More Or is it like a beat that my heart is Missing.
Oh Angel Friend of Mine....... Can you restore Every thing That's Broken Does It matter If It's
black or white, Down & out for Awhile or Up & Running like A humming Bird............. But then
again I could be wrong. The words, they linger on the tip of my tongue Oh Angel My Dear.What have
I done wrong? In the heart My Darling Angel Friend.. A feather, A Feather Flowing in the Wind is
my Heart, Oh Please Cough that Feather for me my Darling Angel For Silence is Loulder Then THUNDER
& Talk to me Again....For It Been a Long Time For Thow Has Talked To Me........Oh Angel, Oh Angel
Where For Are Thow Angel...For Thow Has Gone Away & left Me In The Dark, Oh Angel Eyes, But, It's Not
That I am Sacred Of The Dark It's Because I Can't Sleep With a Light On..Or Is It Just That You've
Closed Your Angel Eyes For Awhile, Oh Angel friend Of Mine.So If That Is The Case Then Well you
Open Your Angel Eyes My Princess Darling To Me & Speak To Me With That Sexy, Soft & Sweet Voice That
You Sing To Me, When You Just Talk To Me. Oh Angel from Heaven Above......... Oh, I Long To Hear
Your Soft Sweet Sexy Voice Sing To Me Again Someday.... Because Your Voice Was Filled With
Sweet Melody, So Worm, Soft & Sexy To My Ear. Is It Really Good By For Ever My Princess Darling
To Me.......& For The Thunder Roll Again, Just As The Whisper From An Angel In Pain For Why Shall
Any Angel Be In Pain, Oh Angel, Oh Angel Wont You Opened Up Your Wings & Stetch Them Out, So
Proud And Wide With Your Feathers Unfolding, Like A Gentle Tide & Fly To Me & Tell Me What's
Wrong So May Help You Over Come This Pain In Your Heart & Be Free Again From The Pain That is
With In The, For I Have Looked To The Heavens To Find The, But Thow is No Where To Be Found, Oh
Heaven's Above Where For Art Thow Angel That Used To Talk So Sweetly In they Ear, But Now Has Gone
Away It Seems At Least For now, If Not For Ever, I Look In The Mirror & I Seen A Trace Of The One
That I Miss And Her Beautiful Face Be Bind Me But When I Looked Around There Was An Empty Feeling
Of The Love That I Once Made Is Now Gone Away..... Your Sweet Voice Warms Up My Soul & My Heart
Skips A Beat I Will Never Stop Looking For Her, You've Changed All Our Lives Every One That You
Meet OH Angel Eyes. Your Memory Will Last Forever, Forever And A Day, OH Angel In Heaven Above..
I live Without Her For So Long & now I Wont A Change.......I Live Every Day Now Just To Hear your
Sweet Soft Sexey Voice Sing To Me When You Just Talk To Me....But For Now I am Waiting On That
Sign I have Been Looking For All My Life...........1994

poem by Ronald Summerville
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The Watcher on the Tower

I
The Voice of a Man

WHAT of the Night, O Watcher?

The Voice of a Woman

Yea, what of it?

The Watcher

A star has risen; and a wind blows strong.

Voice of the Man

The Night is dark.

The Watcher

But God is there above it.

Voice of the Woman

The Night is dark; the Night is dark and long.

II
Voice of the Man

What of the Night, O Watcher?

Voice of the Woman

Night of sorrow!

The Watcher

Out of the East there comes a sound, like song.

Voice of the Man

The Night is dark.

The Watcher

Have courage! There’s To-morrow!

Voice of the Woman

The Night is dark; the Night is dark and long.

III
Voice of the Man

What of the Night, O Watcher?

Voice of the Woman

Is it other?

The Watcher

I see a gleam; a thorn of light; a thong.

Voice of the Man

The Night is dark.

The Watcher

The Morning comes, my Brother.

Voice of the Woman

The Night is dark; the Night is dark and long.

IV
Voice of the Man

What now, what now, O Watcher?

The Watcher

Red as slaughter
The Darkness dies. The Light comes swift and strong.

Voice of the Man

The Night was long.—What sayest thou, my Daughter?

Voice of the Woman

The Night was dark; the Night was dark and long.

poem by Madison Julius Cawein
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