Sonnet to My Wife
The curse of Adam, the old curse of all,
Though I inherit in this feverish life
Of worldly toil, vain wishes, and hard strife,
And fruitless thought, in Care's eternal thrall,
Yet more sweet honey than of bitter gall
I taste, through thee, my Eve, my sweet wife.
Then what was Man's lost Paradise!—how rife
Of bliss, since love is with him in his fall!
Such as our own pure passion still might frame,
Of this fair earth, and its delightful bow'rs,
If no fell sorrow, like the serpent, came
To trail its venom o'er the sweetest flow'rs;—
But oh! as many and such tears are ours,
As only should be shed for guilt and shame!
poem by Thomas Hood
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All Our Trials
All our trials and all our strife, have their roots in our spiritual life,
Friend we are not just anyone, for we are the image of God’s Son.
We were created more than whole; we were given a body and a soul.
All other creation is as you see, but we have been made for Eternity.
Placed in a garden with no strife, and we were given Eternal Life.
With God man had unfettered fellowship, then Satan entered into it.
Satan’s ploy had caused man to fall, but that my friend was not all.
Being banished from Paradise, started for all men a world of strife.
God no longer walked with them, as their fellowship came to an end.
Outside the garden it got worse, for on the earth God put a curse.
One thing lost in all this strife, was man’s assurance of Eternal Life,
When man takes his last breath, without God, he faces Eternal Death.
It’s from Adam that we inherit sin, that causes us deep grief within.
Friend it is this sin that causes strife, affecting each and every life.
All wicked trials, big and small, can be traced back to Adam’s fall.
And all evil emotions deep within, stem from Adam’s original sin.
Just as Adam caused all men to fall, Christ came to redeem us all,
To redeem us from a market of sin, that causes us bondage within.
He came in the midst of our strife, to restore to all men Eternal Life,
And give to all an inner peace, and a relationship that won’t cease.
(Copyright ©02/2005)
Holy Matrimony
God made Adam – the first ‘he’,
From clay of earth,
And blew His breath.
God found him lonely;
He needed a mate;
It was not late.
So, He made Eve – the first ‘she’!
From Adam’s rib;
She looked lovely!
They ate the fruits
In Garden of Eden,
And lived quite happily!
But came satan
In serpent form,
And lied to Eve.
Eve ate the fruit
That God forbade
Committing sin.
She gave to Adam,
Who also ate:
Changed mankind’s fate!
God drove them both
Out of Eden
As rod forev’r.
God’s curse on Eve
–to suffer pain
of childbirth!
God’s curse on Adam
–to labor hard,
Until sweat falls!
‘Which man, woman
That God unites,
Let none undo.’
The first marriage
Happened on earth.
Thus childbirth came.
The two were one
In flesh and bone,
And not alone.
God’s blessings rife:
‘A Happy Wedded Life
in joy and strife.’
Copyright by Dr John Celes 08-24-2008
poem by John Celes
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Mundane Toil
Life in itself is quite mundane, as each new day is quite the same.
Being in the world’s daily grind, can really weary ones poor mind.
Daily routines do not change, as their frustrations remain the same.
Painful toil throughout the days, wears on your being in many ways.
A far cry from a garden of bliss, that peaceful place man must miss.
All is attributed to Adam’s fall, the ground was cursed, do you recall?
Now thorns and thistles cover earth, as woman has pain in child birth,
And woman’s desire is for her man, as her sin had altered God’s plan.
Man from the sweat of his brow, must work to feed a family somehow.
And all just seems to get worse, and all because of that original curse.
One day there will be no more curse, and no more toil upon this earth.
In a New Heaven and a New Earth, all toil shall become eternal mirth.
As we serve God with joy and bliss, the former earth, we will not miss.
Pain and hurt shall be no more, as we eternally serve The Risen Lord.
And there will flow The Water of Life, from the Throne of Jesus Christ.
On each side of The River of Life, there for all will be The Tree of Life,
To produce fruit throughout the year, for all of the nations, far and near.
The leaves will heal every nation, who has come to Christ for Salvation.
With Christ the center and The Light, Eternity shall have no more night,
With no more darkness or toil friend, it is a blissful eternity with no end.
On Death
Tell me thou safest End of all our Woe,
Why wreched Mortals do avoid thee so:
Thou gentle drier o'th' afflicteds Tears,
Thou noble ender of the Cowards Fears;
Thou sweet Repose to Lovers sad dispaire,
Thou Calm t'Ambitions rough Tempestuous Care.
If in regard of Bliss thou wert a Curse,
And then the Joys of Paradise art worse;
Yet after Man from his first Station fell,
And God from Eden Adam did expel,
Thou wert no more an Evil, but Relief;
The Balm and Cure to ev'ry Humane Grief:
Through thee (what Man had forfeited before)
He now enjoys, and ne'r can loose it more.
No subtile Serpents in the Grave betray,
Worms on the Body there, not Soul do prey;
No Vice there Tempts, no Terrors there afright,
No Coz'ning Sin affords a false delight:
No vain Contentions do that Peace annoy,
No feirce Alarms break the lasting Joy.
Ah since from thee so many Blessings flow,
Such real Good as Life can never know;
Come when thou wilt, in thy afrighting'st Dress,
Thy Shape shall never make thy Welcome less.
Thou mayst to Joy, but ne'er to Fear give Birth,
Thou Best, as well as Certain'st thing on Earth.
Fly thee? May Travellers then fly their Rest,
And hungry Infants fly the profer'd Brest.
No, those that faint and tremble at thy Name,
Fly from their Good on a mistaken Fame.
Thus Childish fear did Israel of old
From Plenty and the Promis'd Land with-hold;
They fancy'd Giants, and refus'd to go,
When Canaan did with Milk and Honey flow.
poem by Anne Killigrew
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Bitter Sweet
(d. pickerill/p. odonoughue)
Bitter sweet
Bitter sweet
I never thought Id understand
Never thought I could
The way I feel about you
And how much I need your love
How much I need your love
Bitter sweet
If I analysed each feeling
And captured every thought
Id not be any nearer
To the beating of your heart
The beating of your heart
Bridge:
Its neither pain nor pleasure
Ice cold or tropic heat
Your love is hard to measure
But its taste, mmm, its taste
Is bitter sweet
Bitter sweet
Bitter sweet
Now as I think about you
And the way you make me feel
You hurt me and I doubt you
You smile and my heart heals
Smile and my heart heals
Bridge
Bitter sweet (x5)
Bridge (x2)
Bitter sweet (x7)
song performed by by Lisa Stansfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Guilt Will Wilt The Sweetest Flower
[Song Lyric]
Guilt will wilt the sweetest flower,
Cause the very sun to glower,
Though the skies their tears may shower.
Guilt will wilt the sweetest flower.
Shame will tame the lion's power,
Make the boldest warrior cower,
Turn the taste of triumph sour.
Guilt will wilt the sweetest flower.
For each mister, miss, or madam,
Son or lover— this is so.
In the Bible Eve and Adam
Did discover long ago...
That guilt will wilt the sweetest flower,
Steal the pleasure from the hour,
Even in the greenest bower—
Guilt will wilt the sweetest flower.
poem by Harley White
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Bitter Tears
In the mist
Of my endless search
The best in life
Becomes clear
The rest just begins
To fade by itself
Thats a trick I learnt
Though it took so long
Bitter tears taste so sweet
Chorus
Im seeing my way
For the first time in years
When the love around
Begins to suffer
And you cant find love
In one
In one another
Push away those bitter tears
Bitter tears
And I thought I was doing no wrong
And I thought I was doing no wrong
In the hour of your needs
Lips are trembling
Cause youre gonna be free
Realise what were doing here
The time is right to kill your fears
Bitter tears taste so sweet
Chorus
And I thought I was doing no wrong
Push away those bitter tears
Push away those bitter tears
Push away those bitter tears
Push away those bitter tears
Thats what they call doing no wrong
Thats what they call doing no wrong
Push away those bitter tears
Push away those bitter tears
Push away those bitter tears
Thats what they call doing no wrong
song performed by by INXS
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shall I Make Peace
Shall I make peace and shall I accept this eternal enemy death
This unseen unfelt subtle that suffocates us out of last breath
And why shall I call it foe? Is it not our safest end of all our woe
We sinners the undeserved wretched do try to avoid it so
Does it not being a gentle drier of all love afflicted tears,
Is it not which nobly ends many times the cowards fears;
Does it not has this sweet repose to lovers sad despair,
Is it not the calm of human ambitions and rough over stretched care
Does it not move the seasons around to turn in different hues
Does it not make all things bloom, grow and replaced anew
If in regard of bliss and fortune he is but damned curse,
Yet the joys of Paradise were to Adam and Eve worse;
Since Adam had failed to sustain Paradise and from grace fell,
And God from Eden Adam and us the decedents did expel,
Death is no more an evil we so fear, but a relief;
The balm and cure to every Humane harm, sin or grief:
As impartial he is we all lie balanced equally under sluttish tombs
The same equal form or status we first left our mother wombs
Under his reign we shall suffer no illness or tooth ache as before
What man had forfeited, we now enjoy, and never can loose it more.
The Curse of Kehama
I charm thy life,
From the weapons of strife,
From stone and from wood,
From fire and from flood,
From the serpent’s tooth,
And the beast of blood.
From sickness I charm thee,
And time shall not harm thee;
But earth, which is mine,
Its fruits shall deny thee;
And water shall hear me,
And know thee and flee thee:
And the winds shall not touch thee
When they pass by thee,
And the dews shall not wet thee
When they fall nigh thee.
And thou shalt seek death,
To release thee, in vain;
Thou shalt live in thy pain,
While Kehama shall reign,
With a fire in thy heart,
And a fire in thy brain.
And sleep shall obey me,
And visit thee never,
And the curse shall be on thee
Forever and ever.
poem by Robert Southey
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Wild Honey
B. wilson
Mama Im tellin you as sure as Im standin here
Shes my girl and thats the way Im keepin it my mama dear
No good will it do you to stand there and frown at me
The girls got my heart and my loves comin down on me
Last time I met her since I got a taste of wild honey
(sweet, sweet, my honey bee)
You know shes got the sweetness of the honey bee
(sweet, sweet, my honey)
Honey, (sweet, sweet, my honey bee) she got me all and stung me good, oh, yesiree
(sweet, sweet, my honey)
Before he even stung bees buzzin around her hive
She singled me out, single handed took me alive
Im gonna take her home and spend my life
Eatin up the wild honey
(sweet, sweet, my honey bee)
(sweet, sweet, my honey)
(sweet, sweet, my honey bee)
(sweet, sweet, my honey)
(sweet, sweet, my honey)
Oh mama shes sweeter (sweeter) and sweeter (sweeter) and sweeter, sweeter
Yaaaa, honey (sweet, sweet, my honey bee)
Let me tell you how she really got to my soul (sweet,sweet my honey)
It aint funny, (sweet, sweet, my honey bee) the way she made me want to sing a little rock and
Roll (sweet, sweet, my honey)
Theres nothing quite as good as the taste of wild honey
Break my back workin just to save me some money
I can spend my life with her eatin up her wild honey
(sweet, sweet, my honey bee)
Oh honey shes sweeter (sweeter) and sweeter (sweeter) and sweeter, sweeter
Now
(sweet, sweet, my honey bee)
(sweet, sweet, my honey)
(sweet, sweet, my honey bee)
(sweet, sweet, my honey)
Gimme some gimme some
(sweet, sweet, my honey)
Gimme some gimme some(shes the one)
(sweet, sweet, my honey)
Gimme some wild honey
Gimme some gimme some..........
song performed by by Nazareth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Joy Of The Cross
Long plunged in sorrow, I resign
My soul to that dear hand of thine,
Without reserve or fear;
That hand shall wipe my streaming eyes;
Or into smiles of glad surprise
Transform the falling tear.
My sole possession is thy love;
In earth beneath, or heaven above,
I have no other store;
And, though with fervent suit I pray,
And importune thee night and day,
I ask thee nothing more.
My rapid hours pursue the course
Prescribed them by love's sweetest force,
And I thy sovereign will,
Without a wish to escape my doom;
Though still a sufferer from the womb,
And doomed to suffer still.
By thy command, where'er I stray,
Sorrow attends me all my way,
A never–failing friend;
And, if my sufferings may augment
Thy praise, behold me well content--
Let sorrow still attend!
It cost me no regret, that she,
Who followed Christ, should follow me,
And though, where'er she goes,
Thorns spring spontaneous at her feet,
I love her, and extract a sweet
From all my bitter woes.
Adieu! ye vain delights of earth,
Insipid sports, and childish mirth,
I taste no sweets in you;
Unknown delights are in the cross,
All joy beside to me is dross;
And Jesus thought so too.
The cross! Oh, ravishment and bliss--
How grateful e'en its anguish is;
Its bitterness how sweet!
There every sense, and all the mind,
In all her faculties refined,
Tastes happiness complete.
Souls once enabled to disdain
Base sublunary joys, maintain
Their dignity secure;
The fever of desire is passed,
And love has all its genuine taste,
Is delicate and pure.
Self–love no grace in sorrow sees,
Consults her own peculiar ease;
'Tis all the bliss she knows;
But nobler aims true Love employ;
In self–denial is her joy,
In suffering her repose.
Sorrow and love go side by side;
Nor height nor depth can e'er divide
Their heaven–appointed bands;
Those dear associates still are one,
Nor till the race of life is run
Disjoin their wedded hands.
Jesus, avenger of our fall,
Thou faithful lover, above all
The cross has ever borne!
Oh, tell me,--life is in thy voice--
How much afflictions were thy choice,
And sloth and ease thy scorn!
Thy choice and mine shall be the same,
Inspirer of that holy flame
Which must for ever blaze!
To take the cross and follow thee,
Where love and duty lead, shall be
My portion and my praise.
poem by William Cowper
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But he didn't love (Russian romance)
He said be mine dear, be mine forever
And I will live with burning desire.
Charming his smile was, bliss in the glances
And all that promised Garden of Eden.
Sweet words deceptive
My heart was broken
Sweet words deceptive
My heart was broken
But it was not love
He didn't love me,
No, he didn't love me.
He said I lighted his gloomy soul,
His gloomy soul with blazing star.
He said I gave him
Gave him some hopes
Filling his heart with
Sweet dreams and wishes.
First he was smiling
Then he shed tears
First he was smiling
Then he shed tears
But it was not love
He didn't love me.
No, he didn't love me.
He promised dreamland, he promised passion
Happiness, fortune, blue stars to my heart.
He swore so tender make life delightful
With love forever in seventh heaven.
Sweet words deceptive, my heart was broken,
Sweet words deceptive, my heart was broken.
But it was not love,
He didn't love me.
No, he didn't love me.
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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Elegy on the Death of a Child
Fair was thy blossom, tender flower,
That open'd like the rose in May,
Though nursed beneath the chilly shower
Of fell regret, for love's decay.
How oft thy mother heaved the sigh
O'er wreaths of honour early shorn,
Before thy sweet and guiltless eye
Had open'd on the dawn of morn!
How oft, above thy lowly bed,
When all in silence slumber'd low,
The fond and filial tear was shed,
Thou child of love, of shame, and woe!
Her wrong'd but gentle bosom burn'd
With joy thy opening bloom to see;
The only breast that o'er thee yearn'd;
The only heart that cared for thee.
Oft her young eye, with tear-drops bright,
Pleaded with Heaven for her sweet child,
When faded dreams of past delight
O'er recollection wander'd wild.
Fair was thy blossom, bonnie flower,
Fair as the softest wreaths of spring,
When late I saw thee seek the bower
In peace thy morning hymn to sing.
Thy little foot across the lawn
Scarce from the primrose press'd the dew;
I thought the spirit of the dawn
Before me to the greenwood flew.
E'en then the shaft was on the wing,
Thy spotless soul from earth to sever,
A tear of pity wet the string
That twang'd, and seal'd thy doom for ever.
I saw thee late, the emblem fair
Of beauty, innocence, and truth,
Start tiptoe on the verge of air,
'Twixt childhood and unstable youth;
But now I see thee stretch'd at rest:
To break that rest shall wake no morrow -
Pale as the grave-flower on thy breast!
Poor child of love, of shame, and sorrow!
May thy long sleep be sound and sweet;
Thy visions fraught with bliss to be;
And long the daisy, emblem meet,
Shall shed its earliest tear o'er thee!
poem by James Hogg
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This Garden Of Eden
The garden of eden, was made
by God,
Adam, the first man, to ever
trod.
Beautiful trees, and plants
grew there,
Adam was happy, without a
care.
Tree of Life, and Knowledge
too,
Planted, in the garden grew.
The tree of Knowledge, God
forbid,
Do not touch, or he would rid.
A lost paradise would occur,
A magic kingdom, all a blur.
One day when Adam fell asleep,
God took a rib, made Eve so
sweet.
Satan came in form of a snake,
Tempted Eve, for goodness sake.
She ate the apple ripe and red,
gave it to Adam, Adam was fed.
A paradise was lost that day,
A working life began this way.
poem by Heather Burns
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Garden Of Eden (Bible Poems For Children)
The garden of eden, was made
by God,
Adam, the first man, to ever
trod.
Beautiful trees, and plants
grew there,
Adam was happy, without a
care.
Tree of Life, and Knowledge
too,
Planted, in the garden grew.
The tree of Knowledge, God
forbid,
Do not touch, or he would rid.
A lost paradise would occur,
A magic kingdom, all a blur.
One day when Adam fell asleep,
God took a rib, made Eve so
sweet.
Satan came in form of a snake,
Tempted Eve, for goodness sake.
She ate the apple ripe and red,
gave it to Adam, Adam was fed.
A paradise was lost that day,
A working life began this way.
poem by Heather Burns
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Garden of Eden (Bible Poems for Children)
The garden of eden, was made
by God,
Adam, the first man, to ever
trod.
Beautiful trees, and plants
grew there,
Adam was happy, without a
care.
Tree of Life, and Knowledge
too,
Planted, in the garden grew.
The tree of Knowledge, God
forbid,
Do not touch, or he would rid.
A lost paradise would occur,
A magic kingdom, all a blur.
One day when Adam fell asleep,
God took a rib, made Eve so
sweet.
Satan came in form of a snake,
Tempted Eve, for goodness sake.
She ate the apple ripe and red,
gave it to Adam, Adam was fed.
A paradise was lost that day,
A working life began this way.
poem by Heather Burns
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part II: To Juliet: XXII
ON THE NATURE OF LOVE
You ask my love. What shall my love then be ?
A hope, an aspiration, a desire?
The soul's eternal charter writ in fire
Upon the earth, the heavens, and the sea?
You ask my love. The carnal mystery
Of a soft hand, of finger--tips that press,
Of eyes that kindle and of lips that kiss,
Of sweet things known to thee and only thee?
You ask my love. What love can be more sweet
Than hope or pleasure? Yet we love in vain.
The soul is more than joy, the life than meat.
The sweetest love of all were love in pain,
And that I will not give. So let it be.
--Nay, give me any love, so it be love of thee.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Verses of Truth
This will stand the test of time, a poem of Truth with added rhyme,
They are Truths, from God’s Word; Bible Truths we all have heard.
And nothing has been added to, the words of Truth from me to you,
God’s the One to be stressed, and Christ who passes Eternal tests.
The Lord starts by giving life to us, creating all men out of the dust,
Creating man in the image of God, to put us over the earth we trod,
Over all the creatures that we see, created by The God of Eternity,
Created to live forever, to never die, up until Satan, to man had lied.
With man listening to Satan friend, his life on earth now would end,
And sin had brought an awful price, for man had to leave Paradise.
Shut out from God’s original plan, and all He had prepared for man,
And left to live out a temporal life, upon this earth of pain and strife.
For all received from God a curse, so all life ahead was only worse,
So now Adam like the rest of us, would soon return back to the dust.
But God’s Grace did rise above, sin’s awful curse through His Love,
Whom He would send to everyone, in Christ His Only Begotten Son.
Jesus Christ who died upon a cross, to pay sin’s price for all the lost.
By Satan’s lie men were deceived, but in God’s Son we can believe.
And with the rhymes in this poem, I point all to God’s Eternal Home,
Where all men can live Eternal Life, by faith in His Son Jesus Christ.
(Copyright ©02/2007)
Surprise, Surprise
Sweet as the smell of success
Her body's warm and wet
She gets me through this god awful lonliness
A natural high butterfly oh i,
I need, need, need her
Just like a willow tree
A breath of spring you see
And oh boy you don't know what she do to me
She makes me sweat and forget who i am
I need, need, need, need her
Well i was wondering how long this could go on, on and on
Well i thought i could never be surprised
But could it be that i bit my own tongue
Oh yeah, it's so hard to swallow when you're wrong
A bird of paradise
The sunrise in her eyes
God only knows such a sweet surprise
I was blind she blew my mind think that i
I love, love, love, love, love her
I love her, i love her, i love her, i love her
Sweet sweet, sweet sweet love
Sweet sweet, sweet sweet love
Sweet sweet, sweet sweet love
Sweet sweet, sweet sweet love
Sweet sweet, sweet sweet love
song performed by by Lennon John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To The Lady Dursley
Here reading how fond Adam was betray'd,
And how by sin Eve's blasted charms decay'd,
Our common loss unjustly you complain,
So small that part of it which you sustain.
You still, fair mother, in your offspring trace
The stock of beauty destined for the race;
Kind Nature forming them, the pattern took
From heaven's first work, and Eve's original look.
You, happy saint, the serpent's power control;
Scarce any actual guilt defiles your soul;
And hell does o'er that mind vain triumphs boast
Which gains does o'er that mind vain triumphs boast
With virtue strong as yours had Eve been arm'd,
In vain the fruit had blush'd, or serpent charm'd;
Nor had our bliss by penitence been bought,
Nor had frail Adam fall'n, nor Milton wrote.
poem by Matthew Prior
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