Musee des Beaux-Arts Nice
Notice on a worm-ridden Clavichord
'You are formally requested not to touch'
it was a bright October day
at the house of Princess Kotschoubey
that I was filled with mal-intent
a desire to touch her instrument
did I detect within her gaze
encouragement a spark before a blaze
and then tip-toed across the sunlit room
her guardian and t'was though that fading bloom
had wilted that Autumn rose was dead
so with little joy but peevishly
I touched other things instead
poem by STEPHEN BRIAN Brady
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
You Touch Me
You touch me
and my world stands still.
You touch me
and I still feel the thrill.
The world becomes silent
and I know it always will
if you touch me.
So please just touch me.
'Cause everytime you touch me
there's a silence in my heart.
I break in little pieces and slowly come apart.
I remember all those touches.
They're with me every day.
I think all about them and all I want to say
is touch me.
Please touch me.
Touch me in every little way.
You touch me
and my world is bright.
You touch me
and the stars at night
start to burn like a fire
and I feel your desire
to touch me. So please just touch me.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Simple Touch!
you touched my hand,
and raised this body
from the land of the dead...
you touched my heart,
and freed this soul
from the dark maze
of its own prison.
you touched my eyes,
and restored sight
to a blind man.
you touched my ears,
and filled them with
the song of every living creature.
you touched my desire,
and brought stone and fire,
and the echo of the whipporwill's song.
i touched you,
and the earth stopped turning,
rivers stopped flowing,
and mountains fell...
all in a simple touch!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Touch & Go
All I need is what youve got
All Ill tell is what youre not
All you know is what you hear
I get this way when you come near
Then I know its gone too far
Uh, oh, I touched your star
And it felt so right
Just like the hush of midnight
And then you said
With me its touch and go-o-o-o
Touch and go-o-o-o
All I need is you tonight
Flying like a cement kite, yeah
In your headlock on the floor
Who could ever ask for more
And I know its gone too far
Uh, oh, I touched your star
And it felt so right
Just like the hush of midni-ight
And then you said
With me its touch and go-o-o-o
Touch and go-o-o-o
All I want is you tonight
I guess that dress does fit you tight, yeah
You know that look does make me shake
It almost looks too good to fake
And I know its gone too far
Uh, oh, I touched your star-r-r
And it felt so right
Just like the hush of midni-ight
Then you said
With me its touch and go-o-o-o
Touch and go-o-o-o
Well its touch and go-o-o-o
Its touch and go-o-o-o
Well its touch and go-o-o-o
Touch and go-o-o-o
Touch and go-o-wo yeah
Well its touch and go-o-o-o
Touch and go-o-o-o
Touch and go
All I need is what youve got
song performed by by Cars
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A spark..
Everyone we know, has that spark to light up,
The cold hearts of human to thaw and blaze up,
To radiate the warmth of love to their neighbors,
To spread the message of kindness that allures,
To entangle those miserable people at the distance,
Have the stores that sell faithful blemishes,
The spark at the sky runs white zigzag,
The spark at the stroke of the flint and Iron,
Banging of stones and at the iridium plug,
May start the combustion to burn and manage,
The spark at the hearts that melts the nods,
Spread through the bodies to be entwined,
Where the blooms touch each and every cell,
Ecstatic things alive, dance rhythmic and still,
The spark at the minds of mass ablaze,
Inabilities, ignorance and servitude,
On the floor of the emancipated balconies,
The flowers bloom freely to hang in breeze.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love Desires
A Rose in the vase which sits
Scent of desire fills the room
Your bitter sweet touch I feel
I need all your love to consume
Love Desires
You have that special touch
A touch I never felt in my life
It's the way you excite me so
With you there can be no strife
Love Desires
poem by Suelynn Walters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Look At Me
Look at me
Look at my mouth,
the little up-curve at the ends;
Look at my hair
the way I flip it when I talk;
Look at what I wear
some of it is for you.
Notice how I smell.
Notice how I look,
and how I breathe
when you are near;
come close to me;
lean in when we talk.
Touch my face sometimes.
Notice the brown specks
in my green eyes;
touch me
when I walk by;
And laugh a little
for no reason
when you say hello.
Look at me
at odd times
from across the room.
Back into me at parties
expecting a hug
from behind
And thank you love
cause you do all this
all the time.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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400 ~ Bloom
Just begins to bud,
a rose,
holding hopes and fears
behind
black-red, velvet-soft petals.
Startled by a bright, new world,
it opens,
revealing petals of humility.
Blushing, growing,
opening as it becomes
accustomed
to beauty in light.
Proud color spreads wide across,
full bloom,
not as dark as at first,
glowing
from light that has filled it.
This rose can never die.
As love,
It can lose color, wilt, fade,
but in the mind,
the rose
will forever be in bright, full bloom.
This rose stands a symbol,
to time.
What has occurred to arrive at
now?
All the bloomings have led to one bright bloom,
this rose.
As someone has made me bloom,
she is
beauty and
light. Changing
my colors, releasing
my fears,
I owe her much, love
will never die, like
the glowing bloom of this,
a rose.
poem by Stan Pelfrey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Little Sexy Princess
I see my sexy little princess.
Across the room so full and robustly in deep bloom.
I want her near I need her now.
The sexy way her curves are bound.
I wish to let her free from thee.
Unleashing all mad passion greedily,
To feel her there and know she's mine.
The touch of flesh is so divine.
Sexy little princess come with me.
To entice and bring this fruitful seed.
Of love and passion that overwhelms.
Your beauty is volumes,
to only dream is hell.
So my sweet sexy little princess.
I wrap you in my arms.
No other man will commit you further harm.
My goddes full, my goddes true.
Sexy little princess I bow to you.
poem by Michael McParland
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Dozen Red Roses
God told me to take fifty dollars,
And buy a dozen red roses;
To give them to strangers,
Just as His Spirit impresses.
I gave the first red rose to a homeless man,
Who was sitting on a street curb.
He looked so stunned as he accepted,
But his eyes filled with tears of joy superb.
I then took the subway
That was rather busy.
I saw a mother who looked stresssed;
So gave her a red rose of mercy.
She smiled sweetly, as I walked away.
I sensed this red rose was special;
Gave her a sense of worthiness,
Made me feel like her guardian angel.
The Spirit led me to nine others,
Who were very touched indeed,
By a stranger gifting red roses;
An unusual type of deed.
As I left the train station,
I was led into a nearby hospital.
I asked to whom I should give;
This last red rose, so beautiful.
I was led into a room,
Where a small boy was dying of cancer.
Too weak to take the last rose;
I placed it on his dresser.
He looked at the beautiful red rose;
He could smell its perfume.
Tears fell down his tiny face.
I thanked God for this red rose mission,
As I left the young boy’s room.
Sometimes God asks us,
To do things that may seem strange.
But, in His wisdom, love is His exchange.
The red roses were a token
Of our Saviour’s love
sacrificially given to His children—
Hearts touched from heaven above.
poem by Maureen Lefanue
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Journey To The Kingdom Of Dark Prince(Sun Princess-VI)
The Princess awe-stuck asked the Dark-prince at once
'But how could you reach our kingdom as my horse? '
'In Wizi-quizy -witchy fair, your court sorceress,
bought me though, I couldn't tell her as days were worse!
Told the Prince and pleaded princess to touch him then,
with her magic wand, to turn him to, the large-winged bird.
Princess, felt very ashamed, how could she ride on his back?
The Prince laughed, and said -'Princess, I'm your guard.
But I need you to dispel the dark-spell of evil wizard.
My parents are captivated in his prison, under his spell.
We have to get before night falls, with all black-art.
Touch, touch me with your magic stick without any fail.'
Reluctantly, Princess did so, and rode on the mythical bird.
They whispered all the way and the prince told how did he,
fall in love with the princess since he saw her in her realm!
Then the princess said, 'O, O my prince! 'ashamed was she!
As they were going near Dark-realm, the light of the sun was
Fading out, fading out and fading out, the vista thus changed.
The woods, rivers, seas and hills lost their color natural...
Only black, and black and black, also darkness there reigned.
The prince in form of bird, could not keep his wings opened.
Rewinding wings meant, going down, down, to earth's surface.
Princess, told to land him soon, in any place which may be safe.
They darted down near a den, occupied by a primordial lioness.
She rushed roaring but the princess then sprinkled the love ray
calling her-'Dear, lioness, we are the guest of Dark-realm,
come and greet him with honor, and show us king's palace's way.'
The lioness said with tearful eyes, 'My husband is no more king
of kingdom, the Black Magician has made us animal'she did say.
poem by Nilakshi Das
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The touch of Jesus - Part 1
The touch of Jesus makes me feel so whole
The touch of Jesus purifies my soul
The touch of Jesus cleanses me from sin
The touch of Jesus gives me peace within
Reaching out to me Jesus touched my eyes
Enabling me to see to my surprise.
Gazing into His face so clear and bright
I stood before Him with my new found sight
Hem Of His Garment
Oh I wish I could be
Touched by the hem of his garment
To be proud has never been
So mean, so stern, so cruel
Oh I wish I could be
Touched by the hem of his garment
Oh, Ive come a long way
To touch the hem of his garment
And anger should be
The tool of a clown or a fool, you see
And why should such spite and such pain
Hang between you and me
When love should be
A queen on her throne
Looking after her own
I wish I could be
Touched by the hem of his garment
Two chairs at this table
One bed in this house
Seriously, I think we could be,
Touched by the hem of his garment
Oh, Ive come a long way
To touch the hem of his garment
Written by d. armstrong, r. armstrong, sister bliss, dave randall & maxi jazz
song performed by by Dido
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Days Like This...Remind Me Of You
It was a cool, July, and it was dusk.
The gentle winds that blew,
brushed the Autumn of your hair.
And a mist, as like in Autumn, touch
your face, as I stood still.
I could not help but wonder, as in Autumn,
are the bees yet in their hive? Snuggled
closely, in their Autumn winter bed.?
An Autumn sun, hid behind the clouds above.
It knew not of this July, only of Autumn, in the air.
It knew of flowers drooping, their brightness,
now fading and curled. It knew of falling leaves,
and colors still so bright. A lone tree against a colored
sky, seemed naked in this July. With all of
this, and some to go, it must be Autumn...Autumn...
Autumn, for this I know.
What of the woman, with the hair of Autumn?
Her eyes of Autumn color and colored clothes
the same. It can not be July for
Autumn is abound.
Autumns every where. Circling sparrows in sky
above, swoop down, in hunt, for the final seeds
of Autumn. How could this be July,
or has the sparrows lost their way?
Surely, this is Autumn, for the chill is in they air.
And, isn't that an Autumn grass, below that
old oak tree? As the gentle Autumn winds,
carry silence for the day.
Now the mist of Autumn, are falling drops of rain.
No, not a shower in July, but an Autumn day,
now cast in gloom, against a steel gray sky.
Autumn, shall never be the same, since
that Autumn day in mid July.
New York... Not In Autum
It was a cool, July, and it was dusk.
The gentle winds that blew,
brushed the Autumn of your hair.
And a mist, as like in Autumn, touch
your face, as I stood still.
I could not help but wonder, as in Autumn,
are the bees yet in their hive? Snuggled
closely, in their Autumn winter bed.?
An Autumn sun, hid behind the clouds above.
It knew not of this July, only of Autumn, in the air.
It knew of flowers drooping, their brightness,
now fading and curled. It knew of falling leaves,
and colors still so bright. A lone tree against a colored
sky, seemed naked in this July. With all of
this, and some to go, it must be Autumn...Autumn...
Autumn, for this I know.
What of the woman, with the hair of Autumn?
Her eyes of Autumn color and colored clothes
the same. It can not be July for
Autumn is abound.
Autumns every where. Circling sparrows in sky
above, swoop down, in hunt, for the final seeds
of Autumn. How could this be July,
or has the sparrows lost their way?
Surely, this is Autumn, for the chill is in they air.
And, isn't that an Autumn grass, below that
old oak tree? As the gentle Autumn winds,
carry silence for the day.
Now the mist of Autumn, are falling drops of rain.
No, not a shower in July, but an Autumn day,
now cast in gloom, against a steel gray sky.
Autumn, shall never be the same, since
that Autumn day in mid July.
Only On This Day...
For: J.L.
It was a cool, July, and it was dusk.
The gentle winds that blew,
brushed the Autumn of your hair.
And a mist, as like in Autumn, touch
your face, as I stood still.
I could not help but wonder, as in Autumn,
are the bees yet in their hive? Snuggled
closely, in their Autumn winter bed.?
An Autumn sun, hid behind the clouds above.
It knew not of this July, only of Autumn, in the air.
It knew of flowers drooping, their brightness,
now fading and curled. It knew of falling leaves,
and colors still so bright. A lone tree against a colored
sky, seemed naked in this July. With all of
this, and some to go, it must be Autumn...Autumn...
Autumn, for this I know.
What of the woman, with the hair of Autumn?
Her eyes of Autumn color and colored clothes
the same. It can not be July for
Autumn is abound.
Autumns every where. Circling sparrows in sky
above, swoop down, in hunt, for the final seeds
of Autumn. How could this be July,
or has the sparrows lost their way?
Surely, this is Autumn, for the chill is in they air.
And, isn't that an Autumn grass, below that
old oak tree? As the gentle Autumn winds,
carry silence for the day.
Now the mist of Autumn, are falling drops of rain.
No, not a shower in July, but an Autumn day,
now cast in gloom, against a steel gray sky.
Autumn, shall never be the same, since
that Autumn day in mid July.
Now That You're Gone
I ain't afraid of hurt
I've had so much it feels just like normal to me now
I'm alone and I'm dancin', with you now, in your old room, in your old house
I'm alone and I'm dancin', with you now, in your old room, but there's nobody there
Now that your gone
Now that your gone for good
Everything you ever touched is undisturbed and hangs out
Like crime scene evidence undisturbed in dust
I don't dare touch anything because it's evidence of us
And it means everything
Well sort of
I'm alone and I'm dancin', with you now, in your old room, in your old house
I'm alone and I'm dancin', with you now, in your old room, but there's nobody there
Now that your gone
Now that your gone for good
I'm alone and I'm dancing with you now
In your old room but there's nobody there
Now that your gone
Now that your gone for good
Gone
song performed by by Ryan Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Autumn...Will Never Be The Same
FOR: J.L. With Love
It was a cool, July, and it was dusk.
The gentle winds that blew,
brushed the Autumn of your hair.
And a mist, as like in Autumn, touch
your face, as I stood still.
I could not help but wonder, as in Autumn,
are the bees yet in their hive? Snuggled
closely, in their Autumn winter bed.?
An Autumn sun, hid behind the clouds above.
It knew not of this July, only of Autumn, in the air.
It knew of flowers drooping, their brightness,
now fading and curled. It knew of falling leaves,
and colors still so bright. A lone tree against a colored
sky, seemed naked in this July. With all of
this, and some to go, it must be Autumn...Autumn...
Autumn, for this I know.
What of the woman, with the hair of Autumn?
Her eyes of Autumn color and colored clothes
the same. It can not be July for
Autumn is abound.
Autumns every where. Circling sparrows in sky
above, swoop down, in hunt, for the final seeds
of Autumn. How could this be July,
or has the sparrows lost their way?
Surely, this is Autumn, for the chill is in they air.
And, isn't that an Autumn grass, below that
old oak tree? As the gentle Autumn winds,
carry silence for the day.
Now the mist of Autumn, are falling drops of rain.
No, not a shower in July, but an Autumn day,
now cast in gloom, against a steel gray sky.
Autumn, shall never be the same, since
that Autumn day in mid July.
The Day...Was You
It was a cool, July, and it was dusk.
The gentle winds that blew,
brushed the Autumn of your hair.
And a mist, as like in Autumn, touch
your face, as I stood still.
I could not help but wonder, as in Autumn,
are the bees yet in their hive? Snuggled
closely, in their Autumn winter bed.?
An Autumn sun, hid behind the clouds above.
It knew not of this July, only of Autumn, in the air.
It knew of flowers drooping, their brightness,
now fading and curled. It knew of falling leaves,
and colors still so bright. A lone tree against a colored
sky, seemed naked in this July. With all of
this, and some to go, it must be Autumn...Autumn...
Autumn, for this I know.
What of the woman, with the hair of Autumn?
Her eyes of Autumn color and colored clothes
the same. It can not be July for
Autumn is abound.
Autumns every where. Circling sparrows in sky
above, swoop down, in hunt, for the final seeds
of Autumn. How could this be July,
or has the sparrows lost their way?
Surely, this is Autumn, for the chill is in they air.
And, isn't that an Autumn grass, below that
old oak tree? As the gentle Autumn winds,
carry silence for the day.
Now the mist of Autumn, are falling drops of rain.
No, not a shower in July, but an Autumn day,
now cast in gloom, against a steel gray sky.
Autumn, shall never be the same, since
that Autumn day in mid July.
©Joe Fazio
Mid July? Or Not
It was a cool July and it was dusk.
The gentle winds that blew,
brushed the Autumn of your hair.
And a mist, as like in Autumn, touch
your face, as I stood still.
I could not help but wonder, as in Autumn,
are the bees yet in their hive; snuggled
closely, in their Autumn winter bed.?
An Autumn sun, hid behind the clouds above.
It knew not of this July, only of Autumn, in the air.
It knew of flowers drooping, their brightness,
now fading and curled. It knew of falling leaves,
and colors still so bright. A lone tree against a colored
sky, seemed naked in this July. With all of
this, and some to go, it must be Autumn, for this I know.
What of the woman, with the hair of Autumn?
Her eyes of Autumn color and colored clothes
the same. It can not be July, for
Autumn is abound.
Autumns every where. Circling sparrows in sky
above, swoop down, in hunt, for the final seeds
of Autumn. How could this be July,
or have the sparrows lost their way?
Surely, this is Autumn, for the chill is in they air.
And, isn't that an Autumn grass, below that
old oak tree? As the gentle Autumn winds,
carry silence for the day.
Now the mist of Autumn, are falling drops of rain.
No, not a shower in July, but an Autumn day,
now cast in gloom, against a steel gray sky.
Autumn, shall never be the same, since
that Autumn day in mid July.
A Day Like No Other...
It was a cool July and it was dusk.
The gentle winds that blew,
brushed the Autumn of your hair.
And a mist, as like in Autumn, touch
your face, as I stood still.
I could not help but wonder, as in Autumn,
are the bees yet in their hive; snuggled
closely, in their Autumn winter bed.?
An Autumn sun, hid behind the clouds above.
It knew not of this July, only of Autumn, in the air.
It knew of flowers drooping, their brightness,
now fading and curled. It knew of falling leaves,
and colors still so bright. A lone tree against a colored
sky, seemed naked in this July. With all of
this, and some to go, it must be Autumn, for this I know.
What of the woman, with the hair of Autumn?
Her eyes of Autumn color and colored clothes
the same. It can not be July, for
Autumn is abound.
Autumns every where. Circling sparrows in sky
above, swoop down, in hunt, for the final seeds
of Autumn. How could this be July,
or have the sparrows lost their way?
Surely, this is Autumn, for the chill is in they air.
And, isn't that an Autumn grass, below that
old oak tree? As the gentle Autumn winds,
carry silence for the day.
Now the mist of Autumn, are falling drops of rain.
No, not a shower in July, but an Autumn day,
now cast in gloom, against a steel gray sky.
Autumn, shall never be the same, since
that Autumn day in mid July.