My Treasures
These nuts, that I keep in the back of the nest,
Where all my tin soldiers are lying at rest,
Were gathered in Autumn by nursie and me
In a wood with a well by the side of the sea.
This whistle we made (and how clearly it sounds!)
By the side of a field at the end of the grounds.
Of a branch of a plane, with a knife of my own,
It was nursie who made it, and nursie alone!
The stone, with the white and the yellow and grey,
We discovered I cannot tell HOW far away;
And I carried it back although weary and cold,
For though father denies it, I'm sure it is gold.
But of all my treasures the last is the king,
For there's very few children possess such a thing;
And that is a chisel, both handle and blade,
Which a man who was really a carpenter made.
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
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Related quotes
My Shadow
From Child's Garden of Verses
I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me,
And what can be the use of him is more than I can see.
He is very, very like me from the heels up to the head;
And I see him jump before me, when I jump into my bed.
The funniest thing about him is the way he likes to grow--
Not at all like proper children, which is always very slow;
For he sometimes shoots up taller like an india-rubber ball,
And he sometimes goes so little that there's none of him at all.
He hasn't got a notion of how children ought to play,
And can only make a fool of me in every sort of way.
He stays so close behind me, he's a coward you can see;
I'd think shame to stick to nursie as that shadow sticks to me!
One morning, very early, before the sun was up,
I rose and found the shining dew on every buttercup;
But my lazy little shadow, like an arrant sleepy-head,
Had stayed at home behind me and was fast asleep in bed.
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
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The King's Daughter
WE WERE ten maidens in the green corn,
Small red leaves in the mill-water:
Fairer maidens never were born,
Apples of gold for the king’s daughter.
We were ten maidens by a well-head,
Small white birds in the mill-water:
Sweeter maidens never were wed,
Rings of red for the king’s daughter.
The first to spin, the second to sing,
Seeds of wheat in the mill-water;
The third may was a goodly thing,
White bread and brown for the king’s daughter.
The fourth to sew and the fifth to play,
Fair green weed in the mill-water;
The sixth may was a goodly may,
White wine and red for the king’s daughter.
The seventh to woo, the eighth to wed,
Fair thin reeds in the mill-water;
The ninth had gold work on her head,
Honey in the comb for the king’s daughter.
The ninth had gold work round her hair,
Fallen flowers in the mill-water;
The tenth may was goodly and fair,
Golden gloves for the king’s daughter.
We were ten maidens in a field green,
Fallen fruit in the mill-water;
Fairer maidens never have been,
Golden sleeves for the king’s daughter.
By there comes the king’s young son,
A little wind in the mill-water;
“Out of ten maidens ye’ll grant me one,”
A crown of red for the king’s daughter.
“Out of ten mays ye’ll give me the best,”
A little rain in the mill-water;
A bed of yellow straw for all the rest,
A bed of gold for the king’s daughter.
He’s ta’en out the goodliest,
Rain that rains in the mill-water;
A comb of yellow shell for all the rest,
A comb of gold for the king’s daughter.
He’s made her bed to the goodliest,
Wind and hail in the mill-water;
A grass girdle for all the rest,
A girdle of arms for the king’s daughter.
He’s set his heart to the goodliest,
Snow that snows in the mill-water;
Nine little kisses for all the rest,
An hundredfold for the king’s daughter.
He’s ta’en his leave at the goodliest,
Broken boats in the mill-water;
Golden gifts for all the rest,
Sorrow of heart for the king’s daughter.
“Ye’ll make a grave for my fair body,”
Running rain in the mill-water;
“And ye’ll streek my brother at the side of me,”
The pains of hell for the king’s daughter.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Sound of Silence
I’m walking down the street
and I hear the sculptor in his house
working on his statue of Krishna
and the chisel rings out on the stone
like a bell that wants to tell you something:
the stone saying, I am perfectly made for this;
the chisel saying, I am perfectly made for this;
the sculptor saying, this is prayer;
Krishna saying, I shall enter this.
And I hear in the sound of the chisel on the stone,
as sure as I know my own name,
that the sculptor is listening to all this too.
The bell-like sound lingers in the air
as if the air would keep it for ever
as the air’s prayer. It’s music.
The clearer the sound
of his striking chisel on stone,
the deeper the silence
as if sound and silence between them
know a secret: that sounds like this
can do anything in the world;
even call Krishna with their music
to play at being stone for us.
The stone’s laughing also:
playing at being Krishna.
They’re both laughing.
The sculptor is smiling too.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Locked in a Box
I'm in a locked box
and I'm searching
for the key.
The key that
will set me free.
But wait this locked box
is like no other...
the locked box I'm
in is not made from
cardboard, glass,
wood, plastic or
leather.
The locked box I’m in
is made by an alloyed created
by my own hands.
My mind is the locked
box that I'm in.
The bottom is made from
the ghetto streets
I grew up on.
And one side of the box
is made from the violence
and abuse I suffered
at home.
Now another side is made from
the drugs and alcohol I used
to escape.
While another side is made of
my own self hate.
Now the last side of the locked
box is made from the things
that used to be my hopes
and dreams,
and the lid of this locked box
is made from my nightmares
and screams.
Now, I’m scratching the walls
trying to set myself free.
Because I can feel this
lock box closing in on me.
Closing in so tight it is taking
away my breath.
This locked box is becoming
my resting place after my death.
Wait a minute death may be
the key.
For if I die I will be free.
I'm in a locked box.
God
{b-side of purple rain}
In the beginning, there was god
He made the earth, and the heavens
He gave us light to rule the day
And another light to rule the night
The lord, thy god
Made, he made the seas
He made the fruit upon the trees
When he saw, when he saw that it was good
He made a man, made a man
Only he could, only he could
God made u
God made me too
He made us all
Made us all equally
Now u say
God made u
God made me
He made us all equally
Wake up children
Dance the dance electric
There isnt much time
Who screamed?
Was it u?
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Made Me Want To
You made me want to,
You made me willing to.
You opened up that tiny door
to that other side
I'd never seen before,
and I was Magicalized.
You made me want to
be more,
to step into the Woody Glade
to see who and what lived there.
You made me want to
see more;
My eyes rounded
filling
with Wonder Things.
You made me want to
give more.
At our Midnight Picnic
under Yellow Moon
my blouse opened
to you,
showing you my Soul.
You made me want to
Share Souls.
You made me want to
merge who I was
with who
we were that night.
You made me
the One Alone
into
something more
than I had ever known
on my own.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Kiss The Knife
its stupid for me
to let u back in my life
but i cant go no more
without kissing the knife
i know i made u made
i shall pay the price
but all i wanna do is.....
kiss the knife
u can stab me in my back
but i can take that
what makes me feel right
is a kiss to the knife
sharpiest knife in the draw
there is my knife out the door
kiss the knife goodbye
it cut me open
n i gave it my heart my life
i want you back
kiss the knife
poem by James Bost
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Man Aint Made Of Stone
(gary burr/robin lerner/franne golde)
I was supposed to be the rock that you could stand on
Stronger than an old oak tree
But all you ever wanted was the one thing
I never let you see -
The tender side of me
I tried to be a mountain, solid and strong
All it took was your leaving to know I was wrong
A man aint made of stone
A man aint made of steel
The way I feel right now
I thought Id never feel
Sometimes all it takes
Is facing the night alone
And thats when you know
A man aint made of stone
In this world of mine
There was no room for weakness
I covered every crack in the wall
But there aint no way that I can keep this secret
Cos when you go like jerico I fall
You thought I wouldnt shatter
Would I even care?
But theres more to what Im made of
Than this broken heart can bare
A man aint made of stone
A man aint made of steel
The way I feel right now
I thought Id never feel
Sometimes all it takes
Is facing the night alone
And thats when you know
A man aint made of stone
Sometimes all it takes
Is facing the night alone
And thats when you know
A man aint made of stone
Thats when you know
A man aint made of stone
song performed by by Randy Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Broke It All In Two
How could I have been so cruel
After all you've done for me
I should go back to school
To learn
The ways
Of love
I see the tables turn
Please don't desert me now
I acted like a fool
I know
I just stumble
Through the night
I pushed you way too far
Though you're my guiding star
I broke it all in two (broke it all in two)
Like a row of paper chains (a row of paper chains)
My heart's not made of stone (heart's not made of stone)
Though it seems to be that way
Baby, what can I say?
You mean the world to me
Don't throw it all away
I promise
I'll change
One day
I pushed you way too far
Though you're my guiding star
I broke it all in two (broke it all in two)
Like a row of paper chains (a row of paper chains)
My heart's not made of stone (heart's not made of stone)
Though it seems to be that way (my heart's not made of stone)
I pushed you way too far
Though you're my guiding star
I broke it all in two (broke it all in two)
Like a row of paper chains (a row of paper chains)
My heart's not made of stone (heart's not made of stone)
Though it seems to be that way (my heart's not made of stone)
I broke it all in two (broke it all in two)
Like a row of paper chains (a row of paper chains)
My heart's not made of wood (heart's not made of wood)
Though it seems to be that way
(heart of woo-oooh-ood)
(heart of woo-oooh-ood)
song performed by by Erasure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Yellow Billed Spoonbill
By the lake shore in the shallows where the waters are still
He walks in water to his knees the white bird with yellow legs and long yellow spoon like bill
With his bill in the water as he walk moving from side to side
His prey water insects, crustaceans and tiny fish in the water weed hide.
He and his partner build their nest on a high branch of a tree
On her nest of sticks she lays four white eggs though sometimes two or three
They both take care of their young a bird devoted to fatherhood as well as to his mate
Food from their stomachs to their nestlings they do regurgitate.
On river rapids never seen the still waters they need
Birds of the inland lakes and dams in the shallows they feed
Of humans 'twould be fair to say they have a healthy fear
To a human standing on the shore they never venture near.
Yellow billed or yellow legged spoonbill are names they are known by
On the lake I see one yesterday he did seem rather shy
With his long yellow bill moving from side to side in the shallows he shuffled up and down
The shiest of the water birds in the big park by the Town.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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They Are Tearing Down My Grandfather's House
(An NLP Editor's Choice Award Winner in Verdant Lands of Spring) They are tearing down my Grandfather's house,
it's made of wood and brick and stone.
The windows they've removed. To them it's real
estate, to me it's my heart being ripped in two.
The realtors, the bankers, the moneymen don't understand.
A house is more than made of wood, a house is made of man. My Grandfather's house is a memory that will
endure after it's torn down.
He's been gone for near thirty years, but his
house had lived on.
I know the world is made of change, and change
is all that's real. But one thing I cannot change,
that is the way I feel. I wipe a tear in the falling rain,
because they are tearing down my Grandfather's
house, and it gives me pain.
I love him as if it were yesteryear,
his wit and smile as warm as the sun.
The house once stood to remind me, but that too
is gone. They are tearing down my Grandfather's house,
it's made of wood and brick and stone.
Yet a house if more than made of wood,
a house is made of love.
poem by David A. Webb
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The Carpenter(via Appia,23/03/44)
The Warden roused them early
on this, their final day.
He marched them out on hobbled feet-
Grey trucks took them away.
Doctors, lawyers, engineers,
All captured in a raid.
German Soldiers had been killed
Reprisals must be made..
Fathers, Husbands, sons all caught
within the Nazi snare.
Among them was a carpenter
Who bowed his head in prayer.
He’d walk the hills of Rome no more
Nor touch a lover’s check
Here, near the Via Appia
He’d find eternal sleep.
Five by five they entered in
to the foreboding cave.
There they knelt for benediction,
the kind that pistols gave.
The cave became a charnel house
Each man shot in the head.
It reeked of blood and excrement
Flies feasted on the dead.
The carpenter fell once or twice.
Can blood for blood atone? .
His killers coveted his coat
and forced him to disrobe.
By now they had grown sloppy
with drink and hate and fear.
The first shot missed completely
The second grazed his ear.
In seconds live eternities
He said his final prayer:
“Forgive them, Father, even this
done out of hate and fear
several shots rang out just then
each found his noble head
they shot him once more, in his side
to make sure he was dead.
Explosions rocked and sealed the cave
With tons of rock and stone
They didn’t think to post a guard
The grey trucks drove back home.
poem by John F. McCullagh
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The Drunken Sailor
He stood there shouting at the night
At trees and all around
He stood there swaying side to side
A madness man yet proud.
He never lost his footing once
He danced a dance wild mad
I stood there watching for a while
And wondered what thing had
Made him the drunken sailor
Had made him curse the earth
Had made him babble endlessly
How long had he been berthed?
Three years sailing, sailing hard
He had been away
He was just back
Two days ashore
Had made him act this way.
I asked the drunken sailor
Was it grief or loss at sea?
His eyes gazed at me strangely
And looked quite straight through me.
Not grog he said with spitting words
Not grief and, no, not anger
Have side-showed me on solid ground
And made me my own stranger
My sea legs that have gone you see
And though this warm earth's still
I have sway from side to side
It's quite beyond my will
The rolling sea's a bitch you know
More then any lover
You ride and ride and ride it hard
And then, when you recover,
You find the sea now owns your legs
Owns too your salted soul
So, when you are back on dry land
You somehow do not know
How to stop the bucking bitch
How to be becalmed
You stand there screaming at the earth
For it to be aroused.
Without a moving deck, he said
We feel as if we're dead
It's commonplace with sailors
And we become the wrecks.
.
poem by David Keig
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The House of Stone
I came, from where?
From the house made of stone...
My aunt Romana -
That whom you do not know,
When she had an accident
She stayed in the house of stone
To get well and recover...
But with a cutting tongue
Against my father,
She said to me,
'T'is a big house made of stone,
But inside here lives an owl! '
Where did I come from?
From that house of stone...
But I cannot fathom,
Was her anger so deep
For the owl on pedestal,
The King of our clan;
Was corrupted and fallen
Weakened by the flesh of men...
My Aunt Romana, she left
And my father is dead;
The house made of stone
Forever ruined...
But the lesson of the owl lives;
And him fondly remembered!
poem by Jane Quijano
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Six Blade Knife
Your six blade knife can do anything for you
Anything you want it to
One blade for breaking my heart
One blade for tearing me apart
Your six blade knife-do anything for you
You can take away my mind like you take away the top of a tin
When you come up from behind and lay it down cold on my skin
Took a stone from my soul when I was lame
Just so you could make me tame
You take away my mind like you take away the top of a tin
Id like to be free of it now - I dont want it no more
Id like to be free of it now - you know I dont want it no more
Everybody got a knife it can be just what they want it to be
A needle a wife or something that you just cant see
You know it keeps you strong
Yes and itll do me wrong
Your six blade knife - do anything for you
song performed by by Dire Straits
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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By My Side
Tonight I saw the glimpse of your
Smile fade my own
Reflection all your look
So beautifully
A tear went down my face
And all my memories erase
Oh why do you have to leave my side
Oh why do all the rivers flow
into the ocean
And why does all the love in the world
comes from the heart
And why does all the pain I feel
Comes from deep inside
Oh these questions
I could have answered
If you were by my side
CHORUS:
Something made me look at you
Something made me do what I had to do girl
Somethind made me talk to you
Something made me do what I should
I want you by my side
I want you by my side
I want you by my side
No everything the pain I feel
Slowly fades away
All the memories off you and me
Are always here to stay
Oh what I'm asking girl
Is one more chance
To let me in your life
Oh girl if you give me one more chance
Then I could be right by your side
CHORUS
song performed by by Backstreet Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On His Father's Side
On his mother’s side
Born in Bethlehem
On his Father’s side
No one before him
On his mother’s side
Growing and learning
On his Father’s side
All knowledge showing
On his mother’s side
Stuck in one location
On his Father’s side
Present in every nation
On his mother’s side
He was hungry
On his Father’s side
The multitudes he did feed
On his mother’s side
At Calvary he died
On his Father’s side
He was the essence of life
On his mother’s side
Buried like other men
On his Father’s side
He rose again
On his mother’s side
Human and weak
On his Father’s side
The God of eternity.
poem by Joses Tirtabudi
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Song
I made another garden, yea,
For my new Love:
I left the dead rose where it lay
And set the new above.
Why did my Summer not begin?
Why did my heart not haste?
My old Love came and walk’d therein,
And laid the garden waste.
She enter’d with her weary smile,
Just as of old;
She look’d around a little while
And shiver’d with the cold:
Her passing touch was death to all,
Her passing look a blight;
She made the white rose-petals fall,
And turn’d the red rose white.
Her pale robe clinging to the grass
Seem’d like a snake
That bit the grass and grounds, alas!
And a sad trail did make.
She went up slowly to the gate,
And then, just as of yore,
She turn’d back at the last to wait
And say farewell once more.
poem by Arthur William Edgar O'Shaughnessy
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Gods Children
Man made the buildings that reach for the sky
And man made the motorcar and learned how to fly
But he didnt make the flowers and he didnt make the trees
And he didnt make you and he didnt make me
And he got no right to turn us into machines
Hes got no right at all
cause we are all gods children
And he got no right to change us
Oh, we gotta go back the way the good lord made us all
Dont want this world to change me
I wanna go back the way the good lord made me
Same lungs that he gave me to breath with
Same eyes he gave me to see with
Oh, the rich man, the poor man, the saint and the sinner
The wise man, the simpleton, the loser and the winner
We are all the same to him
Stripped of our clothes and all the things we own
The day that we are born
We are all gods children
And they got no right to change us
Oh, we gotta go back the way the good lord made
Oh, the good lord made us all
And we are all his children
And they got no right to change us
Oh, we gotta go back the way the good lord made us all
Yeah, we gotta go back the way the good lord made us all
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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King Of Stone
Once again hes all alone
Here I am the king of stone
Gave away the love hed know
Just to be the king of stone
The only life hes ever known {the empty world that hed made his own}
But I dont believe Im made of stone
Now youve seen me
Now you dont
Can you hear me
Because quite soon you wont
So save your whispers
For some other man
Because I can hear you you
And I know who I am
Once again hes all alone
Here I am the king of stone
Once again hes all alone
Here I am the king of stone
Once again hes all alone
Here I am the king of stone
song performed by by Omd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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