On the Prodigal
Tell me, bright boy, tell me, my golden lad,
Whither away so frolic ? why so glad ?
What all thy wealth in council ? all thy state ?
Are husks so dear ? troth 'tis a mighty rate.
poem by Richard Crashaw
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Related quotes
Upon A Delaying Lady
Come, come away
Or let me go;
Must I here stay
Because you're slow,
And will continue so;
--Troth, lady, no.
I scorn to be
A slave to state;
And since I'm free,
I will not wait,
Henceforth at such a rate,
For needy fate.
If you desire
My spark should glow,
The peeping fire
You must blow;
Or I shall quickly grow
To frost, or snow.
poem by Robert Herrick
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A Poet's Wooing
I woo'd a woman once,
But she was sharper than an eastern wind.
Tennyson
"What may I do to make you glad,
To make you glad and free,
Till your light smiles glance
And your bright eyes dance
Like sunbeams on the sea?
Read some rhyme that is blithe and gay
Of a bright May morn and a marriage day?"
And she sighed in a listless way she had,--
"Do not read--it will make me sad!"
"What shall I do to make you glad--
To make you glad and gay,
Till your eyes gleam bright
As the stars at night
When as light as the light of day
Sing some song as I twang the strings
Of my sweet guitar through its wanderings?"
And she sighed in the weary way she had,--
"Do not sing--it will make me sad!"
"What can I do to make you glad--
As glad as glad can be,
Till your clear eyes seem
Like the rays that gleam
And glint through a dew-decked tree?--
Will it please you, dear, that I now begin
A grand old air on my violin?"
And she spoke again in the following way,--
"Yes, oh yes, it would please me, sir;
I would be so glad you'd play
Some grand old march--in character,--
And then as you march away
I will no longer thus be sad,
But oh, so glad--so glad--so glad!"
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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Forgiven
I dreamed so dear a dream of you last night!
I thought you came. I was so glad, so gay,
I whispered, 'Those were foolish words to say;
I meant them not. I cannot bear the sight
Of our dear face. I cannot meet the light
Of your dear eyes upon me. Sit, I pray-
Sit here beside me; turn your look away,
And lay your cheek on mine,' Till morning bright
We sat so, and we did not speak. I knew
All was forgiven, so nestled there
With your arms round. Swift the sweet hours flew.
At last I waked, and sought you everywhere.
How long, dear, think you, that my glad cheek will
Burn-as it burns with our cheek's pressure still?
poem by Helen Hunt Jackson
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In The Year That's Come and Gone
In the year that's come and gone, love, his flying feather
Stooping slowly, gave us heart, and bade us walk together.
In the year that's coming on, though many a troth be broken,
We at least will not forget aught that love hath spoken.
In the year that's come and gone, dear, we wove a tether
All of gracious words and thoughts, binding two together.
In the year that's coming on with its wealth of roses
We shall weave it stronger, yet, ere the circle closes.
In the year that's come and gone, in the golden weather,
Sweet, my sweet, we swore to keep the watch of life together.
In the year that's coming on, rich in joy and sorrow,
We shall light our lamp, and wait life's mysterious morrow.
poem by William Ernest Henley
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If Walls Could Talk
(bobby miller)
Well, if things could talk then Im sure youd hear
A lot of things to make you cry my dear
Aint you glad [aint you glad]
Oh, aint you glad [aint you glad]
Aint you glad [glad]
Glad that things dont talk
Now, if shoes could tell where theyve been
When you say youve been visiting a friend
Aint you glad [aint you glad]
He-he-hey, aint you glad [aint you glad]
But aint you glad [glad]
Glad that shoes dont talk
Now, if doors could tell whos turned the knob
When hes away out on his job
If cars could tell whos been inside
And whos been taking you out for a ride
Aint you glad [aint you glad]
Oh, aint you glad [aint you glad]
But aint you glad [glad]
Glad that cars dont talk
In a world of trouble Id be
If things ever told on me
My whole life would be through
cause Im guilty, how about you ?
If things ever talk that way
Aint no telling what they might say
Aint you glad [aint you glad]
Oh, aint you glad [aint you glad]
Aint you glad [glad]
Glad that things dont talk
song performed by by Ry Cooder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Epitaph For A Shepherdess
Beloved maidens! Playful and carefree,
You sing, you dance and frolic in the glades.
I, too, once dwelt in gay Arcadia,
I, too, in early days found moments
Of joy in woods and glades:
In golden dreams, love promised happiness:
But what did I attain in this glad land?-
The grave!
poem by Konstantin Nikolaevich Batiushkov
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Down at the Walmart Parking Lot!
You do not hold what I hold dear,
And when I told you what I fear,
You laughed and said... 'That's mighty strange! ...
Just have a beer... This world won't change...
What will we care? ... once dead and gone?
You know it's all just overblown...
Global warming and world war three...
What worries you don't worry me! '
Still glad I put this in your ear...
We do not hold the same things dear!
What's dear to me is not to you...
Your simple truth is hardly true,
Your blurry lines of church and state,
Your holy/patriotic hate.
Your righteous war... your pius sword...
Joy of dear hunting for the lord.
See, I don't want what I ain't got,
Don't miss winter when it's too hot!
Won't cry for August when it's cold!
Young's OK but I don't dread old!
Seen UN-happy in old and young...
More hot!
More rich!
More thin!
More hung!
Don't want a real close parking spot,
Down at the Walmart parking lot!
Things that you find so fantastic,
Mass-produced and mostly plastic,
Such things carry no real weight here...
I
do
not
hold
what
you
hold
dear!
From the new (coming-soon) book... Storm Child.
From the new (coming-soon) book... Storm Child.
www.LouisianaBoy.com
poem by ToddMichael St. Pierre
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California
I remember I was in the tanning salon
When I heard that river phoenix was gone
They say that only the good die young
But that aint true where I come from
California...california
It took a lot for me to say
I want to walk away, la
From the sharks and the chardonnay
In california...california
4 in the morning we were in our beds
The swaying palm trees above our heads
Woke up to a primal rumbling sound
When the northridge quake ripped open the
Ground
California...california
It took a lot for me to say
I want to walk away la
From the sharks and the chardonnay
In california... in california
Golden state, Im back in the golden state
Golden state of mind
Golden state, Im back in the golden state
Golden state of mind
It took a lot for me to say
I want to walk away la
From the sharks and the chardonnay
In california... in california
Walk, walk away
I remember I was in the tanning salon
When I heard that river phoenix was gone...
song performed by by Belinda Carlisle
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An Uncommon Reality
I never lived in your world.
I never knew what it was like.
I have no real conception, of what normality is?
I never had to take drugs to escape.
I already lived in a world of my own.
I never aimed for or earnestly sort the high life.
I lived an artistic life, of the mind of the soul,
forever separating my life, from the common life.
From the common man and the common clay.
Everything was so sharp and clearly in focus.
Everywhere I saw and heard and knew too much.
I lived upon a heightened vibration rate
an awareness; as incredibly focused intensity.
I lived with such dynamic, personal passion,
I did not know; what it was like; to be passionless.
I knew that some people lived husks of life
but I; did not fully know; what it was to be a husk.
I always had somewhere beneath adversity
which afflicted me; the redemption; of artistic insight.
I guess this explains why husks gather,
so many possessions, to prop up their lives.
Husks are so empty, they often get blown away,
by the soulless wind, generating materialistic values.
I bequeath
a sacred gift
to enhance
enrich such lives.
Come live within
spirit of creativity
one spirit almighty
our divine creator.
Copyright © Terence George Craddock
poem by Terence George Craddock
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I'm So Glad
I'm so glad
I'm so glad
I'm glad, I'm glad, I'm glad
I'm so glad
I'm so glad
I'm glad, I'm glad, I'm glad
Don't know what to do
Don't know what to do
Don't know what I'm gonna do
Another week in
Telephoning
Tired of groaning for you
I'm so glad
I'm so glad
I'm glad, I'm glad, I'm glad
I'm so glad
I'm so glad
I'm glad, I'm glad, I'm glad
song performed by by Deep Purple
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Deep Joy
Today for me
The morning air
Looks very fresh
And very dear
And sky above me
Looks very bright
And full of
Sunshine delight
and this is because
I know I'm glad
And nothing looks
To me even sad
And I wish to
in this happiness sleep
And bury myself
in this joy deep
because I know
very soon it'll end
And then once again
In my hurts I'll end
And then once again
In my hurts I'll bend
And there I will
Be very alone
Only accompanied by
The quietness zone
So that is why
Without wasting time
I want to enjoy
This deep joy's rhyme
And bring myself
Few moments of dear
Bright sunshine
And fresh air.
poem by Seema Chowdhury
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Sean
Dear brother,
How I love you so,
For I am so glad that you are in
A better mood than you were
Once long ago.
I am sorry about what our father
Did to you,
For I can relate to you,
For I know what he did to me,
And I am sorry about
The anger you felt for so long.
You seem a lot happier now,
Dear brother,
For I am happy
That you are happy
And that this house
Can be peaceful once again.
I am also happy that
You have become more appreciative,
After Philmont
And you realised what you had,
And you realised what you were missing,
And that you do not take anything for granted.
I am happy that
You are happy to be who
You are,
And that you are a more
Cheerful person,
And more of an optimist,
Than what you were long ago.
Dear brother,
I am glad you are
Not doing immoral things
In high school,
Such as cheating,
And lying,
And other things,
And that you are now giving your
Best effort.
I am glad that you
Are doing better
Than what you once did,
For you can do great things.
I hope you do well
In high school,
Dear brother,
And I hope you do well
In everything you do.
I know you want to be
An orthopaedic surgeon,
And it will suit you well,
Once you work towards it.
You can go to U-M,
If you work really hard,
And if you do well
In your AP classes,
Dear brother,
You can work off
Your freshman
Core classes,
And you can go on
And earn your
Bachelor's and Master's Degree
In college,
Just like your older sister did.
You do not have to be valedictorian,
Nor a salutatorian,
But as long as you get that 3.8
Or 3.9
That you really want,
You can get to U-M,
And be in Ann Arbour
In a heartbeat,
For you can do great things.
Apply with pride,
For you know you did well,
And the Board will notice you,
And you will be a Wolverine
Before you know it.
Brother, you can work hard
In college,
And you can get a Bachelour's Degree
And a Master's Degree
In college,
Just like your sister did.
Then you can go into med school,
Whether it be at U-M,
Michigan State University,
Wayne State University,
Harvard,
Yale,
Or even Princeton,
And you can do extremely well,
Because I believe in you,
Dear brother,
And you can get that white coat,
And get your stethoscope,
Just like your sister did.
Dear brother,
I know you can take the Hippocratic Oath,
And take med school seriously,
And become a great surgeon,
And I know you would love your patients dearly,
For you will become a great man,
But all you have to do is work hard,
And do not get discouraged,
For that will bring you down
To the Ground.
I know you can do it well,
Dear brother,
And I hope you do well with life,
For I wish you the best of luck.
poem by James Roberts
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Forms of Wealth
To money is attributed wealth
But the open truth of wealth
Is, It is not the only kind of wealth—
There are also other forms of wealth!
Good health is the best form of wealth
Forging rich links in relationships is wealth
Spontaneous love for all life forms is wealth
To have enthusiasm in life is wealth.
Acquiring life-long learning is wealth
Experience and wisdom in life is wealth
Meeting new people is also wealth
Visiting new places too is authentic wealth.
The quest to explore something is wealth
To have a positive mind-set is wealth
Existence of deep internal peace is wealth
Early morning waking up with joy is wealth.
Possessing high self-respect is wealth
Having strong spiritual connection is wealth
There exist so many types of wealth
Constitute all these and you're with full wealth!
poem by Chandra Thiagarajan
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Grandad
Heaven's mighty sweet, I guess;
Ain't no rush to git there:
Been a sinner, more or less;
Maybe wouldn't fit there.
Wicked still, bound to confess;
Might jest pine a bit there.
Heaven's swell, the preachers say:
Got so used to earth here;
Had such good times all the way,
Frolic, fun and mirth here;
Eighty Springs ago to-day,
Since I had my birth here.
Quite a spell of happy years.
Wish I could begin it;
Cloud and sunshine, laughter, tears,
Livin' every minute.
Women, too, the pretty dears;
Plenty of 'em in it.
Heaven! that's another tale.
Mightn't let me chew there.
Gotta have me pot of ale;
Would I like the brew there?
Maybe I'd get slack and stale -
No more chores to do there.
Here I weed the garden plot,
Scare the crows from pillage;
Simmer in the sun a lot,
Talk about the tillage.
Yarn of battles I have fought,
Greybeard of the village.
Heaven's mighty fine, I know . . . .
Still, it ain't so bad here.
See them maples all aglow;
Starlings seem so glad here:
I'll be mighty peeved to go,
Scrumptious times I've had here.
Lord, I know You'll understand.
With Your Light You'll lead me.
Though I'm not the pious brand,
I'm here when You need me.
Gosh! I know that HEAVEN'S GRAND,
But dang it! God, don't speed me.
poem by Robert William Service
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Wonder Star
(A note on the Christmas Star that had guided the Vikings to Jesus.)
Oh my dear! You wonder star
So bright you shine all day and night
To guide us to the Lord’s birth home
Born were you dear mighty star.
Old quite, but young enough
You shine so fine till time today
Bethlehem your home it lives in joy
For home it is for the Lord’s birth
Time to time you shine with us
At Christmas time on roofs atop
Colors galore you shine all night
To remind us all of His glorious birth.
Your name it is “the wonder star”
You’ve shown the way to the mighty king
You still shine bright in heavens above
In our hearts you shine all Christmas time.
poem by Dr Anish Mathew John
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Popularity
I always say what I have to say
In a simple or paradox way...
I don't care about popularity or rate,
I say from my heart, what I have to say, anyway...
Some things are simple, some are complex,
But they are told, nevertheless...
Who care about his or her rate,
When your poem was really read....
Keep doing what your really doing, dear poet
The world is still there and really matters
True feelings are not easy to come by
To those creeps, say goodbye...
Your true feelings will always surface,
They are funny people who have not face,
Reality is only one for all
Now, you can see, popularity or rate,
Do not matter at all....
poem by Romeo Della Valle
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Golden-Tressed Adelaide
SING, I pray, a little song,
Mother dear!
Neither sad nor very long:
It is for a little maid,
Golden-tressed Adelaide!
Therefore let it suit a merry, merry ear,
Mother dear!
Let it be a merry strain,
Mother dear!
Shunning e’en the thought of pain:
For our gentle child will weep,
If the theme be dark and deep;
And we will not draw a single, single tear,
Mother dear!
Childhood should be all divine,
Mother dear!
And like an endless summer shine;
Gay as Edward’s shouts and cries,
Bright as Agnes’ azure eyes:
Therefore, bid thy song be merry:—dost thou hear,
Mother dear?
poem by Barry Cornwall
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Daddy's Working Boots
(Dolly Parton)
My dear hard workin' daddy works his life away for us
That's the way that daddy shows to us his love
And Daddy's two hard working hands
They're callous and they're sore
And Daddy's workin' boots have walked a million miles or more
As long as I remember, I remember Daddy workin'
Workin' on the job or either on the farm
Tryin' to provide for the family that he loves
And Daddy's working boots have taken many steps for us
Chorus:
Daddy's workin' boots have served as his foundation
Though just like him, they're tired and worn
For years they've helped him stand
Daddy's working boots have filled their obligation
They've walked that rocky road with a mighty, mighty man
Dear lord above, I know up there my Daddy's got a mansion
And a great reward that's long been overdue
And when it comes my Daddy's time to be with you in heaven
Spoken:
Won't cha let him walk your golden streets
In a pair of brand new golden boots
Repeat Chorus
Daddy's workin' boots
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet: Be Glad Always, Man!
Be glad for all the blessings, God gave you;
And thank the Lord with all your heart and soul!
Be glad for all the good things, you could do,
Within the scope God-granted for your role.
Be glad for all the suff’rings, God gave you,
For, that’s the way, you learnt to love Him more!
Be glad for all the things, you could not do,
God will open to you another door!
Be glad for all the misdeeds, you couldn’t do!
Perhaps, your life could have been worse than this;
Be glad for all your good health and wealth too;
Forget your woes and thank God for His bliss!
Be glad, you kept your Road to Heaven, Man!
And praise the Lord in every way, you can.
2-29-2004 by dr john celes
Fondly dedicated to Dr. Prof. S. Narayanan, M.B.B.S., M.Sc.,
Prof. & HOD of Anatomy, and Vice-principal (former)
IRT PMC, Perundurai, Erode, Tamilnadu, India
poem by John Celes
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The Happy Couple
AFTER these vernal rains
That we so warmly sought,
Dear wife, see how our plains
With blessings sweet are fraught!
We cast our distant gaze
Far in the misty blue;
Here gentle love still strays,
Here dwells still rapture true.
Thou seest whither go
Yon pair of pigeons white,
Where swelling violets blow
Round sunny foliage bright.
'Twas there we gather'd first
A nosegay as we roved;
There into flame first burst
The passion that we proved.
Yet when, with plighted troth,
The priest beheld us fare
Home from the altar both,
With many a youthful pair,--
Then other moons had birth,
And many a beauteous sun,
Then we had gain'd the earth
Whereon life's race to run.
A hundred thousand fold
The mighty bond was seal'd;
In woods, on mountains cold,
In bushes, in the field,
Within the wall, in caves,
And on the craggy height,
And love, e'en o'er the waves,
Bore in his tube the light.
Contented we remain'd,
We deem'd ourselves a pair;
'Twas otherwise ordain'd,
For, lo! a third was there;
A fourth, fifth, sixth appear'd,
And sat around our board;
And now the plants we've rear'd
High o'er our heads have soar'd!
How fair and pleasant looks,
On yonder beauteous spot,
Embraced by poplar-brooks,
The newly-finish'd cot!
Who is it there that sits
In that glad home above?
Is't not our darling Fritz
With his own darling love?
Beside yon precipice,
Whence pent-up waters steal,
And leaving the abyss,
Fall foaming through the wheel,
Though people often tell
Of millers' wives so fair,
Yet none can e'er excel
Our dearest daughter there!
Yet where the thick-set green
Stands round yon church and sad,
Where the old fir-tree's seen
Alone tow'rd heaven to nod,--
'Tis there the ashes lie
Of our untimely dead;
From earth our gaze on high
By their blest memory's led.
See how yon hill is bright
With billowy-waving arms!
The force returns, whose might
Has vanquished war's alarms.
Who proudly hastens here
With wreath-encircled brow?
'Tis like our child so dear
Thus Charles comes homeward now.
That dearest honour'd guest
Is welcom'd by the bride;
She makes the true one blest,
At the glad festal tide.
And ev'ry one makes haste
To join the dance with glee;
While thou with wreaths hast graced
The youngest children three.
To sound of flute and horn
The time appears renew'd,
When we, in love's young morn,
In the glad dance upstood;
And perfect bliss I know
Ere the year's course is run,
For to the font we go
With grandson and with son!
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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