The Next War
You young friskies who today
Jump and fight in Father’s hay
With bows and arrows and wooden spears,
Playing at Royal Welch Fusiliers,
Happy though these hours you spend,
Have they warned you how games end?
Boys, from the first time you prod
And thrust with spears of curtain-rod,
From the first time you tear and slash
Your long-bows from the garden ash,
Or fit your shaft with a blue jay feather,
Binding the split tops together,
From that same hour by fate you’re bound
As champions of this stony ground,
Loyal and true in everything,
To serve your Army and your King,
Prepared to starve and sweat and die
Under some fierce foreign sky,
If only to keep safe those joys
That belong to British boys,
To keep young Prussians from the soft
Scented hay of father’s loft,
And stop young Slavs from cutting bows
And bendy spears from Welsh hedgerows.
Another War soon gets begun,
A dirtier, a more glorious one;
Then, boys, you’ll have to play, all in;
It’s the cruellest team will win.
So hold your nose against the stink
And never stop too long to think.
Wars don’t change except in name;
The next one must go just the same,
And new foul tricks unguessed before
Will win and justify this War.
Kaisers and Czars will strut the stage
Once more with pomp and greed and rage;
Courtly ministers will stop
At home and fight to the last drop;
By the million men will die
In some new horrible agony;
And children here will thrust and poke,
Shoot and die, and laugh at the joke,
With bows and arrows and wooden spears,
Playing at Royal Welch Fusiliers.
poem by Robert Graves
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Playing With The Boys
Id say it was the right time
To walk away
When dreaming takes you nowhere
Its time to play
Bodies working overtime
Your money dont matter
The clock keeps ticking
When someones on your mind
Im moving in slow motion
Feels so good
Its a strange anticipation
Knock, knock, knocking on wood
Bodies working overtime
Man against man
And all that ever matters
Is baby whos ahead in the game
Funny but its always the same
Playing, playing with the boys
Playing, playing with the boys
After chasing sunsets
One of lifes simple joys
Is playing with the boys
Said it was the wrong thing
For me to do
I said its just a boys game
Girls play too
My heart is working overtime
In this kind of game
People get hurt
Im afraid that someone is me
If you want to find me, Ill be
Playing, playing with the boys
Staying, playing with the boys
After chasing sunsets
One of lifes simple joys
I dont want to be the moth around your fire
I dont want to be obsessed by my desire
Im ready, Im leaving
Ive seen enough
...with the boys
Ive seen enough
You play too rough
Playing, playing with the boys
Ill be staying, playing with the boys
After chasing sunsets
One of lifes simple joys
Is playing with the boys
Playing with the boys
Playing
Playing
Playing
Playing
song performed by by Kenny Loggins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When the Boys Come Home
There's a happy time coming,
When the boys come home.
There's a glorious day coming,
When the boys come home.
We will end the dreadful story
Of this treason dark and gory
In a sunburst of glory,
When the boys come home.
The day will seem brighter
When the boys come home,
For our hearts will be lighter
When the boys come home.
Wives and sweethearts will press them
In their arms and caress them,
And pray God to bless them,
When the boys come home.
The thinned ranks will be proudest
When the boys come home,
And their cheer will ring the loudest
When the boys come home.
The full ranks will be shattered,
And the bright arms will be battered,
And the battle-standards tattered,
When the boys come home.
Their bayonets may be rusty,
When the boys come home,
And their uniforms dusty,
When the boys come home.
But all shall see the traces
Of battle's royal graces,
In the brown and bearded faces,
When the boys come home.
Our love shall go to meet them,
When the boys come home,
To bless them and to greet them,
When the boys come home;
And the fame of their endeavor
Time and change shall not dissever
From the nation's heart forever,
When the boys come home.
I Know What Boys Like
Boys, boys
He you wanna know something?
Boys, boys
Boys like girls
I know what boys like
I know what guys want
I know what boys like
I've got what boys want
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
I know what boys like
I know what guys want
I seem them looking (looking)
I make them want me
I like to tease them
And they want to touch me
I never let them
I know what boys like
I know what guys want
I know what boys like
Boys like, boys like me
I got my cat moves
That so upsets them
Zippers and buttons
Fun to frustrate them
They get so angry
Like pouty children
Denied their candy
I laugh right at them
I know what boys like
I know what guys want
I know what boys like
I've got what boys want
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
I know what boys like
I got what boys want
I know what boys like
Boys like, boys like, boys like me
I think you're special
I might let you
You're so much different
I might let you
There's no one like you
I might let you
Or would you like that?
I might let you
Sucker!
Boys, b-b-boys
Boys, b-b-b-boys
G-g-g-g-got what boys want
G-g-g-got
I know what boys like
I know what guys want
I know what boys like
I've got what boys want
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
I know what boys like
I got what boys want
I know what boys like
Boys like, boys like, boys like me
I know what boys like
I got what boys want
I know what boys like
Boys like, boys like, boys like me
Yeah, I know what boys like
Come on girls, you know what they like
It ain't no secret
I know what boys like
I know what guys want
I know what boys like
I've got what boys want
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
song performed by by Vitamin C
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Terra Cotta Warrior
You stand with all your comrades in the van,
Unflinching, you survey the sweep of time,
Your eyes are sharp and stare, the man ahead
Does likewise, and your forehead wears a frown.
In darkness you were cast, you now appear
So sudden in the light, the dawn's grey wash,
The light is harsh and bright this time of year
And soon your colours fade, then turn to ash.
Then what alarm is this that breaks the spell
That Emperor Qin Shi Huang had caused to lie
Unbroken on your shoulders since he fell
And sought his bliss in heaven, on Mount Li.
What terrors brought his army to the light
Revealed the might of Qin to modern man,
The archers with their bows, when arrows sang,
The chariots and the horses in full flight.
While you, with weapon raised, prepare to march
Your armour, dirt ingrained two thousand years,
Is ready for the clash, the battle din,
The slash of sword, the whine, the thrust of spears.
But who are these, the strangers who now stare
Forever in their awe at your design?
A face familiar here, another there,
May just be from your son or daughter's line.
Be proud, Doushi, you come at last to stand
Revealed, to prove the potter's ancient craft,
While time stands still for all who see you there
To wonder at the world, where once, he laughed.
2 February 2006 - Xi'an
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Strange But True
Okay, let me say this quick - before I start 2 cry
Ure the only one that I gave it 2, the one I fantasised 4
And time away from u has taught me
What I should have known
That this hole Im trying 2 fill with another - yeah, its grown
And I got your package
But when I tried 2 write back I bailed
See, trying 2 express the future, sometimes language fails
And over this time Ive learned
My life force is increased by knowing u
Every door that closes, another one opens
Strange but true
Strange but true
No regrets because I forget the unfamiliar faces
Those petty lies and alibis, just golddiggas chasing
Dreams of sovereignty, they tried to come between u and me
A curse therein set forces a chain of events
That only freed me when I remembered
Where I was and who I am
The only prince that will ever rule this holy land
All understand and all standunder this affirmation now
By the power invested in me by god...
All negativity bows
Strange but true, lets see what u can do
U may have lost me, but I found myself
The ones who love me without condition - this is my wealth
And with these words I will win
Repeat them over and over again
All understand and all standunder this affirmation now
By the power invested in me by god...
All negativity bows
All negativity bows
All negativity bows
Strange but true, lets see what u can do
Strange but true, lets see what u can do
All negativity bows
(strange but true)
(strange but true)
Strange but true (true, true...)
All negativity bows
(strange but true, lets see what u can do)
All negativity bows
(all negativity bows)
Strange but true
Strange but true
(strange but true)
(strange but true)
Strange but true
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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He Was My Sun
He was my sun, my one and only son,
and dressed up as a cowboy for the day.
And so I handed him a little gun
of fastened random sticks, for him to shoot and play.
And dressed up as a cowboy for the day
he found some foes (with bows and arrows made
of fastened random sticks for them) to shoot, and play
the part of redskins in a mock charade.
He found some foes (with bows and arrows made)
in his story books before he left for school.
The parts of redskins, in a mock charade,
were painted with a crimson war paint, oh so cruel.
In history books, before he left from school -
the tales they told, of victories that we'd won,
were painted with a crimson war paint, oh so cruel -
the flow of paint was hard to staunch when once begun.
From tales they told, of victories that we'd won,
he learned to fight for god and country glory, though
the flow of pain, 'twas hard to staunch when once begun
and cruel to both sides (as he'd later come to know) .
He learned to fight for god and country glory, though
the wounds of war were still unseen (though nigh)
and cruel to both sides (as we'd later come to know):
and soon he stuffed his bag with several things of youth and said goodbye.
The wounds of war were still unseen. Though nigh,
the hours boomed, the clock struck 12, before his time to leave,
and soon he stuffed his bag with several things of youth and said goodbye
to those who'd stay and even those who didn't grieve.
The hours boomed, the clock struck 12, before his time to leave -
they brought back bags they'd stuffed with severed things of those who'd died
to those who'd stayed. And even those who didn't grieve
with tears were stiff, and hid in wooden boxes meant to hide.
They brought back bags they'd stuffed with severed things of those who'd died.
They brought his boots back, camouflaged with mud.
With tears, the stiff were hid in wooden boxes meant to hide
our children from the spilling of their blood.
They brought his boots back, camouflaged with mud.
They said they'd needed him to help defend
our children from the spilling of their blood.
But can they ever see or really comprehend?
They said they'd needed him to help defend,
and so they handed him a little gun.
But can they ever see or really comprehend?
He was my sun, my one and only son...
poem by Terry O'Leary
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Warriors
Warriors
Horses and warriors
Shields and amour
Fighting for a cause
Avoiding as much loss
Shedding blood is a must
Battles must be fought and won on the battlefield
How many men will be killed?
For a country
For a nation
For self belief
Spears and shields
Tools of war
Making history
Alliance and victory
A treasured sword
Held by a courageous man
Known by his name as warrior
Failure is not an option
A countries pride is at stake
Bows and arrows
Fighting for a name
Decorated with strings of fame
A man must do what he must
Even if it is for a mediocre cause
Now wars are won and fought with guns
The true warriors are the thinkers and not the fighters
The true warrior is not the man who dies
But the one who stays alive
The one who can plan and strategise
Analyse and fantasies a vision which is bound to come true
© Sylvia Chidi- 17 October 2005
poem by Sylvia Chidi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tenacious baby boys
Tenacious baby boys
Clenching and unclenching their fists
A rehearsal for the fight of warriors to be
The radiance of baby boys drooling warm milk
The bedazzlement of baby boys bold in their skin
Baby boys of the tom-tom
Baby boys of the silent drums
Baby boys taking the giant steps of first walk
First word of their throats holy full of hallelujah
Boys benevolent and young playing with their snares
In Africa and on the reservation
Baby boys who shall become executioners of the young
When watching someone die is routine in black neighborhoods
Baby boys of the wounded heart without fathers
Baby boys marvelous in their redness and blackness
Fraternal sons of empire builders
Baby boys sabotage by their lost fathers
Locked in the lower-class jails of their despair.
Baby boys of the slums that raise them
And shall come to betray them by a warm gun.
poem by David E. Patton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Trees And Dreams
Wooden soldiers
Tall and strong
Guarding woodlands
In rows so long.
Hard and fast
Taller than grass
Grown to last
of old, cut as a mast.
Reaching skyward
Surveying all around
Casting long shadows westward
Towering flora that abound.
New saplings now old
One story they have told
Deep roots make them bold
As branches unfold
Some older than man
Cast deep in the ground
Hid the old clan
Felt the wet nose of a hound.
Lovers lay beneath it's branches
basking in the sun
Exhausted from their horizontal fun
Beads of sweat, down their bodies run.
Words of love trip off their tongue.
Tall and mighty
Bark textured rough
Their leaves small and flighty
Young children's shoes did scuff
Catching their dreams
As they climb so high
Of rescuing maidens
From pirates near by.
With bows and not so straight arrows
They grin and they smile
As they aim at a sparrow
and miss by a mile.
From it's branches they do swing
Hanging by a limb
Lot of noise, not muffled din.
Hot summer, time to swim.
poem by Robert Green
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Champion
Young and a conqueror, once on a day,
Wild white Winter rode out this way;
With his sword of ice and his banner of snow
Vanquished the Summer and laid her low.
Winter was young then, young and strong;
Now he is old, he has reigned too long.
He shall be routed, he shall be slain;
Summer shall come to her own again!
See the champion of Summer wake
Little armies in field and brake:
'Cruel and cold has King Winter been;
Fight for the Summer, fight for the Queen!'
First the aconite dots the mould
With little round cannon-balls of gold;
Then, to help in the winter's rout,
Regiments of crocuses march out.
See the swords of the flag-leaves shine;
See the shield of the celandine,
And daffodil lances green and keen,
To fight for the Summer, fight for the Queen.
Silver triumphant the snowdrop swings
Banners that mock at defeated kings;
And wherever the green of the new grass peers,
See the array of victorious spears.
Daffodil trumpets soon shall sound
Over the garden's battle-ground,
And lovely ladies crowd out to see
The long procession of victory.
Little daisies with snowy frills,
Courtly tulips and sweet jonquils,
Primrose and cowslip, friends well met
With white wood-sorrel and violet.
Hundreds of milkmaids by field and fold;
Thousands of buttercups licked with gold;
Budding hedges and woods and trees -
Spring brings freedom and life to these.
Then the triumphant Spring shall ride
Over the happy countryside;
Deep in the woods the birds shall sing:
'The King is dead--long live the King!'
But Spring is no king, but a faithful knight;
He will ride on through the meadows bright
Till at Summer's feet he shall light him down
And lay at her feet the royal crown.
She will lean down where the roses twine
Between the may-trees' silver shine,
And look in the eyes of the dying knight
Who led his army and won her fight.
She will stoop to his lips and say,
'Oh, live, O love! O my true love, stay!'
While he smiles and sighs her arms between
And dies for the Summer, dies for the Queen.
poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Don't Drink
Don't drink, boys, don't!
There is nothing of happiness, pleasure, or cheer,
In brandy, in whiskey, in rum, ale, or beer.
If they cheer you when drunk, you are certain to pay
In headaches and crossness the following day.
Don't drink, boys, don't!
Boys, let it alone!
Turn your back on your deadliest enemy-Drink!
An assassin disguised; nor for one moment think,
As some rashly say, that
true
women admire
The man who can boast that he's playing with fire.
Boys, let it alone!
No, boys, don't drink!
If the habit's begun, stop now! stop to-day!
Ere the spirit of thirst leads you on and away
Into vice, shame, and drunkenness. This is the goal,
Where the spirit of thirst leads the slave of the bowl.
No, boys,
don't
drink!
Boys, touch not, nor taste!
Don't think you can stop at the social 'First Glass.'
Too many have boasted that power, alas!
And found they were slaves to this seeming good friend,
And have grown into drunkards and knaves, in the end.
Boys, touch not, nor taste!
Don't drink, boys,
Don't
!
If the loafers and idlers scoff, never heed:
True men and true women will wish you 'God-speed.'
There is nothing of purity, pleasure, or cheer
To be gotten from whiskey, wine, brandy, or beer.
Don't drink, boys,
Don't
!
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Boys & Girls
Boys and girls come out to play, playing till theyre old and grey
Time to leave the old school suit, grown ups can be real cute
Do you think theyre wiser than in the past
How long do you think its gonna last
I dont have to prove to you adults can be kidding too
Boys and girls I love you dearly
But I hate to have you near me
Boys and girls - ahh
Boys and girls - ahh
Boys and girls - ahh
Boys and girls stay home today
Think theyre more mature that way
Secret friends can soon be found
Indiscretions underground
Maybe growing up can seem more graceful
If they make their style become more tasteful
With your looks you could go far
But better watch the calendar-iahhh
(the sound of a church wedding)
Boys and girls I love you dearly
But I hate to have you near me
Boys and girls - ahh
Boys and girls - ahh
Boys and girls - ahh
Boys and girls I love you dearly
But I hate to have you near me
Boys and girls I love you dearly
But I hate to have you near me
Boys and girls - ahh
Boys and girls - ahh
Boys and girls - ahh
song performed by by Human League
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Flying
(rod stewart, ron wood, ronnie lane)
Im flying across the ocean
And Im soaring back home
To the place I was born and probably raised.
And Im flying across the mountains and valleys,
Back home to the one that I love so happily.
Can ya blame me for feeling homesick
cause Ive been away such a very long long time ?
I served a while in the county jail, five years for
For bein hungry tired and poor, I got worried so.
On and on this I will follow with your buttons and bows.
On and on this I will follow, all alone,
You know I will follow with your buttons and bows,
With your buttons and your bows.
On and on Im flying across the ocean, going home.
Im flying across the ocean
Goin home, hoo hoo
song performed by by Rod Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Who Shall Rule This American Nation?
Who shall rule this American Nation?
Say, boys, say!
Who shall sit in the loftiest station?
Say, boys, say!
Shall the men who trampled on the banner?
They who now their country would betray?
They who murder the innocent freedmen?
Say, boys, say!
"No, never! no, never!"
The loyal millions say;
And 'tis they who rule this American Nation!
They, boys, they!
Who shall rank as the family royal?
Say, boys, say!
If not those who are honest and loyal?
Say, boys, say!
Then shall one elected as our servant,
In his pride, assume a regal sway?
Must we bend to a human Dictator?
Say, boys, say!
Shall we tarnish our national glory?
Say, boys, say!
Blot one line from the wonderful story?
Say, boys, say!
Did we vainly shed our blood in battle?
Did our troops resultless win the day?
Was our time and our treasure all squander'd?
Say, boys, say!
poem by Henry Clay Work
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cant Stop Rockin
I cant stop, cant stop rockin...
The whole thing started 1963
Young girls screamin
Black and white t.v.
I was so ready, for something to set me free
Those four boys from england, singin right to me
That night I had a dream, of a rock n roll band
Everyone said no, no, no. I said yeah, yeah, yeah
I cant stop, cant stop rockin...
Never really fit in
Couldnt quite be cool
Got my ass kicked up and down the halls of my high school
When things got too crazy
When life got too cruel
I would just remember the boys from liverpool
When I was lost, they were there to hold my hand
When everyone said no, no, no. they said yeah, yeah, yeah
I cant stop, cant stop rockin...
song performed by by Reo Speedwagon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mrs. Ward
On friday afternoon at three o'clock
A passing lady looked into a shop
Her eyes lit up as this the sign she read
Recruiting office, that is what it said
Exacitedly she stepped inside to see
How her sons would fair if they were militry
The man in charge to her was very sweet
And said, "please sign here on this little sheet"
But when she got home her mind grew many fears
The message from the soldiers in the war rang in her ears
Don't put your boys in the army mrs. ward
You know they'll only waste away, oh oh
Don't put your boys in the army mrs. ward
You know they'll only waste away, oh oh
At six o'clock the lads came home from work
She told them what she'd done, they went beserk
We'll have to go to war and fight and die
And mrs. ward she wiped a tear from her eye
Don't put your boys in the army mrs. ward
You know they'll only waste away, oh oh
Don't put your boys in the army mrs. ward
You know they'll only waste away, oh oh
Don't put your boys in the army mrs. ward
You know they'll only waste away, oh oh
Don't put your boys in the army mrs. ward
You know they'll only waste away, oh oh
Don't put your boys in the army mrs. ward
You know they'll only waste away, oh oh
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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God's miracle
Say not
That this is just a game.
As I watch the little boys play
After a heavy school day
He goes straight to the field,
And there he is in his element
Raising up the dust
As he scores that goal.
Say not
That this is just a game.
As the boys make their football
Collecting plastic from the dumps
And cutting ropes that were washing lines.
As the boys create a pitch
Or just play on the road,
They take sticks or stones
And they build a goal.
Say not
That this is just a game.
As these boys return home at night
Return to be whipped after their delight
The ball will be smashed,
The plastic seperated from the rope
And the field will be taken.
To the farmers and goat herders it will be given
But the boys collect themselves, with undying determination
And they go back to playing football.
Say not
That this is just a game.
As the scout sees that young player
And he is sent to England
Maybe he will play with Man U or maybe Inter.
He sees a world far from home
From sunny rays to raindropp beats.
Say not
That this is just a game.
As that girl plays on the boy's team
She raises rumours,
As people see her and say she will not marry
She drops her bucket of water and goes to be goalie.
The boys boo and make fun of her
But they know she is a very good player.
And she is an example to other little girls
Who long for that ball and not for pearls.
Say not
That this is just a game.
As old men sleep in bars
Just so they can see that match
Of their favourite English team,
And when they reach home their angry wives will ask
'What will that team give you if they win? '
The men will go to bed silent
But their minds know the answer
'They will give me pride, and honour.'
Say not
That this is just a game.
As the world cup starts
Linking whole nations.
And in that stadium
There is no such thing as rich, poor, colour or religion.
Because everybody will mix
As they go to cheer their country,
And their players from Eto'o to Messi.
Say not
That this is just a game.
When that player has the ball
At the box for a penalty
And it is the finale
When all hearts will stop.
And all breaths are held.
And when that goal is scored,
Each cheer is louder than the next
Every person with smiles so big
Both in the stands and on the field
There stand a connection of confusion,
But also true happiness.
Say not
That this is just a game.
When the team will hold that cup
And the whole country becomes a champion
Every man, every woman, and all the children.
It's name goes down in history
And it will be known as a cup holding nation.
Say not
That this is just a game.
No, this is football.
This is God's miracle,
To that little boy and girl
To that man who knows the answer
To not one but all,
And to you and me as well
Say not
That this is just a game.
For this, this is football!
poem by Mariam de Haan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Boys
HAS there any old fellow got mixed with the boys?
If there has, take him out, without making a noise.
Hang the Almanac's cheat and the Catalogue's spite!
Old Time is a liar! We're twenty to-night!
We're twenty! We're twenty! Who says we are more?
He's tipsy,-- young jackanapes!-- show him the door!
"Gray temples at twenty?"-- Yes ! white if we please;
Where the snow-flakes fall thickest there's nothing can freeze!
Was it snowing I spoke of? Excuse the mistake!
Look close,-- you will see not a sign of a flake!
We want some new garlands for those we have shed,--
And these are white roses in place of the red.
We've a trick, we young fellows, you may have been told,
Of talking (in public) as if we were old:--
That boy we call "Doctor," and this we call "Judge;"
It's a neat little fiction,-- of course it's all fudge.
That fellow's the "Speaker,"-- the one on the right;
"Mr. Mayor," my young one, how are you to-night?
That's our "Member of Congress," we say when we chaff;
There's the "Reverend" What's his name?-- don't make me laugh.
That boy with the grave mathematical look
Made believe he had written a wonderful book,
And the ROYAL SOCIETY thought it was true!
So they chose him right in; a good joke it was, too!
There's a boy, we pretend, with a three-decker brain,
That could harness a team with a logical chain;
When he spoke for our manhood in syllabled fire,
We called him "The Justice," but now he's "The Squire."
And there's a nice youngster of excellent pith,--
Fate tried to conceal him by naming him Smith;
But he shouted a song for the brave and the free,
Just read on his medal, "My country," "of thee!"
You hear that boy laughing?-- You think he's all fun;
But the angels laugh, too, at the good he has done;
The children laugh loud as they troop to his call,
And the poor man that knows him laughs loudest of all!
Yes, we're boys, --always playing with tongue or with pen,--
And I sometimes have asked,-- Shall we ever be men?
Shall we always be youthful, and laughing, and gay,
Till the last dear companion drops smiling away?
Then here's to our boyhood, its gold and its gray!
The stars of its winter, the dews of its May!
And when we have done with our life-lasting toys,
Dear Father, take care of thy children, THE BOYS!
poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When I Was A Young Girl
(A Song of Old Ballads)
WHEN I was a young girl, all in a green arbor,
When I was a young girl in Springtimes gone by
All the long days I went singing and smiling,
Down by the roses the sweet days beguiling,
Love in the arbor and love in the sky . . .
When I was a young girl, a young girl, a young girl,
When I was a young girl, how happy was I!
Oh, the long days I must sit at my sampler,
Oh, the slow way that the still time would go!
I longed to be running across the bright heather,
'Off with the silk gown and on with the leather,
Following the raggle-taggle gypsies, oh!'
When I was a young girl, a young girl, a young girl,
When I was a young girl, a long time ago!
When I was a young girl in days that were golden,
When I was a young girl, and life had no smart,
All the world seemed a place for my playing,
Full of great lovers to come to me, saying,
'Madam, I give you the keys of my heart . . .'
When I was a young girl, a young girl, a young girl,
When I was a young girl, and dreaming apart!
When I was a young girl, I dreamed of my lover,
A tall cavalier who should whisper me low,
'Love, on your lips are red roses a-blowing,
I am your true love, and fast is time going
Am I your true love? Oh, say yes or no!'
When I was a young girl, a young girl, a young girl–
When I was a young girl, a long time ago!
When I was a young girl there came my true lover,
Swiftly I knew him in glad days gone by;
Never a sword or a lovelock or feather,
But oh, at his touch 'twas our hearts came together,
Love in the arbor and love in the sky . . .
When I was a young girl, a young girl, a young girl,
When I was a young girl, how happy was I!
poem by Margaret Widdemer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Boys Boys
These days
I'm so lost
In this fog
This isn’t my last
Time
Of being caught up
This isn’t my last
Time
Fighting for love
I’m so lost
In this fog
Of boys
Boys boys
There my pain
Boys boys
There my smiles
Boys boys
There my guards
Boys boys
There my fog
It’s the boys
That keeps me in this haze
It’s the boys
That causes all our pain
There here
And their there
There everywhere
There everywhere
It’s the boys
That we can blame
Why do boys
Have to hurt us
The way they do
Why do they
Have to all attack
At once
Its they army of boys
The army of toys
There our
Boy toys
Boy toys
Army boys
Boys boys
There my pain
Boys boys
There my smiles
Boys boys
There my guards
Boys boys
There my fog
It’s the boys
That keeps me in this haze
It’s the boys
That causes all our pain
There here
And their there
There everywhere
There everywhere
It’s the boys
That we can blame
These days
I’ve been so lost
It’s always a maze
And so much it coast
To get out of it
Then you’re right back in
Again
I’m caught up
I’m caught up
In this
Fight for love
I’m lost
In this maze
This maze
And fog
Of boys
I’m chocked up
I’m caught up
Oh what do I do
What do I do
To get out
Boys boys
There my pain
Boys boys
There my smiles
Boys boys
There my guards
Boys boys
There my fog
It’s the boys
That keeps me in this haze
It’s the boys
That causes all our pain
There here
And their there
There everywhere
There everywhere
It’s the boys
That we can blame
poem by Tessa Monaghan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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