All In A Golden Afternoon (instrumental)
All in the golden afternoon full leisurely we glide
For both our oars, with little skill, by little arms are plied
While little hands make vain pretence our wanderings to guide
Our wanderings to guide
Ah, cruel three! In such an hour, beneath such dreamy weather
To beg a tale of breath too weak to stir the tiniest feather
Yet what can one poor voice avail, against three tongues together
Against three tongues together
Anon, to sudden silence won, in fancy they pursue
The dream child moving through a land of wonders wild and new
In friendly chat with bird or beast--and half believe it true
And half believe it true
And ever, as the story drained the wells of fancy dry
And faintly strove that weary one to put the subject by
The next time--"It is next time" the happy voices cry!
The happy voices cry!
Thus grew the tale of wonderland, thus slowly one by one
Its quaint events were hammered out--and now the tale is done
And home we steer
A merry crew
Beneath the setting sun
song performed by by Alphaville
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
All In The Golden Afternoon
All in the golden afternoon full leisurely we glide
For both our oars, with little skill, by little arms are plied
While little hands make vain pretence our wanderings to guide
Ah, cruel three! in such an hour beneath such dreamy wheather
To beg a tale of breath too weak to stir the tiniest feather
And what can one poor voice avail against three tongues together
Anon, to sudden silence won, in fancy they persue
The dream child moving through a land of wonders wild and new
In friendly chat with bird or beast- and half believe it true
And ever as the story drained the wells of fancy dry
And faintly strove that weary one to put the subject by
The next time. it is next time the happy voices cry
Thus grew the tale of wonderland, thus slowly, one by one
Its quaint events were hammered out
And now the tale is done and home we steer
A merry crew
Beneath the setting sun
Lewis carrol
song performed by by Alphaville
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Prologue
All in the golden afternoon
Full leisurely we glide;
For both our oars, with little skill,
By little arms are plied,
While little hands make vain pretence
Our wanderings to guide.
Ah, cruel Three! In such an hour
Beneath such dreamy weather,
To beg a tale of breath too weak
To stir the tiniest feather&xclm.
Yet what can one poor voice avail
Against three tongues together?
Imperious Prima flashes forth
Her edict ``to begin it'':
In gentler tones Secunda hopes
``There will be nonsense in it!''
While Tertia interrupts the tale
Not more than once a minute.
Anon, to sudden silence won,
In fancy they pursue
The dream-child moving through a land
Of wonders wild and new,
In friendly chat with bird or beast--
And half believe it true.
And ever, as the story drained
The wells of fancy dry,
And faintly strove that weary one
To put the subject by
``The rest next time--'' ``It is next time!''
The happy voices cry.
Thus grew the tale of Wonderland:
Thus slowly, one by one,
Its quaint events were hammered out--
And now the tale is done,
And home we steer, a merry crew,
Beneath the setting sun.
Alice! A childish story take,
And with a gentle hand,
Lay it where Childhoood's dreams are twined
In Memory's mystic band,
Like pilgrim's wither'd wreath of flowers
Pluck'd in a far-off land.
poem by Lewis Carroll
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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All In The Golden Afternoon
All in the golden afternoon
Full leisurely we glide;
For both our oars, with little skill,
By little arms are plied,
While little hands make vain pretense
Our wanderings to guide.
Ah, cruel Three! In such an hour,
Beneath such dreamy weather,
To beg a tale of breath too weak
To stir the tiniest feather!
Yet what can one poor voice avail
Against three tongues together?
Imperious Prima flashes forth
Her edict to "begin it"--
In gentler tones Secunda hopes
"There will be nonsense in it"--
While Tertia interrupts the tale
Not more than once a minute.
Anon, to sudden silence won,
In fancy they pursue
The dream-child moving through a land
Of wonders wild and new,
In friendly chat with bird or beast--
And half believe it true.
And ever, as the story drained
The wells of fancy dry,
And faintly strove that weary one
To put the subject by,
"The rest next time"--"It is next time!"
The happy voices cry.
Thus grew the tale of Wonderland:
Thus slowly, one by one,
Its quaint events were hammered out--
And now the tale is done,
And home we steer, a merry crew,
Beneath the setting sun.
Alice! a childish story take,
And with a gentle hand
Lay it where Childhood's dreams are twined
In Memory's mystic band,
Like pilgrim's withered wreath of flowers
Plucked in a far-off land.
Submitted by foolish Paeter
poem by Lewis Carroll
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Living A Boys Adventure Tale
(pal waaktaar/morten harket)
Ive fixed my dwelling for the night
Lights in pairs come passing by
Where I hide
I need some time now on my own
Leave my loneliness alone
To lick my wounds
Night has found me just in time
To help me close my eyes
One more time
Living a boys adventure tale
In so many ways
Living a boys adventure tale
For so many days
Im living a boys adventure tale
Cant escape, if I wanted to
Living a boys adventure tale
I may be dreaming but I feel awake
Ive been lost in so many places
Seeked love in so many faces
A change of weather,
The rain pours down
My head in hands,
Pressed to the ground
And where am I supposed to go now
Living a boys adventure tale
In so many ways
Living a boys adventure tale (aah)
Living a boys adventure tale
A voice I hear
Living a boys adventure tale
Singing a lullaby for me
Living a boys adventure tale
Because of you
Living a boys adventure
Oh you know its true
Living a boys adventure tale
In so many ways (aah)
For so many days
I love you. I love you
So many ways
song performed by by A-Ha
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Beauty & The Beast
Tale as old as time
True as it can be
Barely even friends
Than somebody bends
Unexpectedly
Just a little change
Small, to say the least
Both a little scared
Neither one prepared
Beauty and the beast
Ever just the same
Ever a surprise
Ever as before
Ever just as sure
As the sun will arise
Tale as old as time
Tune as old as song
Bittersweet and strange
Finding you can change
Learning you were wrong
Certain as the sun
Rising in the east
Tale as old as time
Song as old as rhyme
Beauty and the beast.
song performed by by Celine Dion
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Love of My Life
Some day when everthing is right I'll take your hand if you take mine.
We will run away deep into the night and you'll save my life by never saying goodbye.
Our story will go on but few will know everything we went threw.
In time no one will know us, it will be another fairy tale.
Some day when everthing is right I'll take your hand if you take mine.
I loved you then and I will love you again, but for now we must act like it will never happen again.
In time no one will know us, it will be another fairy tale.
One people will tell forever with no end.
A perfect romance a true happy ending.
The story will always go on just as our love.
Someday when the time is right we will take each others hands and we will save each others lives,
we will never say goodbye.
poem by Crimson Haze
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Beauty & The Beast
Tale as old as time
True as it can be
Barely even friends
Then somebody bends
Unexpectedly
Just a little change
Small to say the least
Both a little scared
Neither one prepared
Beauty and the beast
Ever just the same
Ever a suprise
Ever just as sure
Ever as before
As the sun will rise
Certain as the sun
Rising in the east
Tale as old as time
Song as old as ryhme
Beauty and the beast
song performed by by Kenny Loggins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Night After The Picnic
And 'Happy! Happy! Happy!'
Rang the bells of all the hours;
'Shyly! Shyly! Shyly!'
Looked and listened all the flowers;
They were wakened from their slumbers,
By the footsteps of the fair;
And they smiled in their awaking
On the faces gathered there.
'Brightly! Brightly! Brightly!'
Looked the overhanging trees,
For beneath their bending branches
Floated tresses in the breeze.
And they wondered who had wandered
With such voices and so gay;
And their leaflets seemed to whisper
To each other: 'Who are they?'
They were just like little children,
Not a sorrow's shade was there;
And 'Merry! Merry! Merry!'
Rang their laughter thro' the air.
There was not a brow grief-darkened,
Was there there a heart in pain?
But 'Happy! Happy! Happy!'
Came the happy bells' refrain.
When the stately trees were bending
O'er a simple, quiet home,
That looked humble as an altar,
Nestling 'neath a lofty dome;
Thither went they gaily! gaily!
Where their coming was a joy,
Just to pass away together
One long day without alloy.
'Slowly! Slowly! Slowly!'
Melted morning's mist away,
Till the sun, in all its splendor,
Lit the borders of the bay.
'Gladly! Gladly! Gladly!'
Glanced the waters that were gray,
While the wavelets whispered 'Welcome!'
To us all that happy day.
And 'Happy! Happy! Happy!'
Rang the bell in every heart,
And it chimed, 'All day let no one
Think that ye shall ever part.
Go and sip from every moment
Sweets to perfume many years;
Keep your feast, and be too happy
To have thought of any tears.'
There was song with one's soul in it,
And the happy hearts grew still
While they leaned upon the music
Like fair lilies o'er the rill;
Till the notes had softly floated
Into silent seas away
O'er the wavelets, where they listened
While they rocked upon the bay.
And ---- 'Dreamy! Dreamy! Dreamy!'
When the song's sweet life was o'er,
Drooped the eyes that will remember
All its echoes evermore.
And 'Stilly! Stilly! Stilly!'
Beat the hearts of some, I ween,
That can see the unseen mystery
Which a song may strive to screen.
Then 'Gaily! Gaily! Gaily!'
Rang the laughter everywhere,
From the lips that seemed too lightsome
For the sigh of any care.
And the dance went 'Merry! Merry!'
Whilst the feet that tripped along,
Bore the hearts that were as happy
As a wild bird's happy song.
And sweet words with smiles upon them,
Joy-winged, flitted to and fro,
Flushing every face they met with
With the glory of their glow.
Not a brow with cloud upon it --
Not an eye that seemed to know
What a tear is; not a bosom
That had ever nursed a woe.
And how 'Swiftly! Swiftly! Swiftly!'
Like the ripples of a stream,
Did the bright hours chase each other,
Till it all seemed like a dream;
Till it seemed as if no ~Never~
Ever in this world had been,
To o'ercloud the ~brief Forever~,
Shining o'er the happy scene.
Dimly! dimly fell the shadows
Of the tranquil eventide;
But the sound of dance and laughter
Would not die, and had not died;
And still 'Happy! Happy! Happy!'
Rang the voiceless vesper bells
O'er the hearts that were too happy
To remember earth's farewells.
Came the night hours -- faster! faster!
Rose the laughter and the dance,
And the eyes that should look weary
Shone the brighter in their glance:
And they stole from every minute
What no other day could lend --
They were happy! happy! happy!
But the feast must have an end.
'Children, come!' the words were cruel --
'Twas the death sigh of the feast;
And they came, still merry! merry!
At the bidding of the priest,
Who had heard the joy-bells ringing
Round him all the summer day.
'Happy! Happy! Happy! Happy!'
Did he hear an angel say?
'Happy! happy! still more happy!
Yea, the happiest are they.
I was moving 'mid the children
By the borders of the bay,
And I bring to God no record
Of a single sin this day.
'Happy! Happy! Happy!'
When your life seems lone and long,
You will hear that feast's bells ringing
Far and faintly thro' my song.
poem by Abram Joseph Ryan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Just Like A Fairy Tale
It was just just like a fairy tale...
You were my prince that would sweep me away and it would be a happy ending.
But somewhere in our fairy tale some pages went missing,
some lies where put in,
some tears where cried,
some hearts where broken.
The happy ending never came..
I woke up from my fairy tale,
and saw you werent about to sweep me off my feet and ride away into the sunset to live our happy ending..
I woke up from my childish fantasy and saw i had to grow up and realise the real world is nothing like a fairy tale..
So i had to let you go knowing the pages to our story,
could never be rewritten.. ♥
poem by Ashlee Harper
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fairy Tale High
On a fairy tale high
Don't you believe that your dreams all come true
The fairy tale world inside can bring it to you
You just have to wish, and you'll take off and fly
On a fairy tale high, fairy tale high
Fairy tale high, fairy tale high
On a fairy tale high
Just look around you, the dark clouds are far
Stand on your tiptoes, and reach for a star
As stardust comes sprinkling, it will brighten your eyes
On a fairy tale high, fairy tale high
Fairy tale high, fairy tale high
Fairy tale high, fairy tale high, fairy tale high
On a fairy tale high, feeling higher and higher
On a fairy tale high, feeling higher and higher
On a fairy tale high, feeling higher and higher
On a fairy tale high, feeling higher and higher
On a fairy tale high, feeling higher and higher
song performed by by Donna Summer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Boat beneath a Sunny Sky
A BOAT beneath a sunny sky,
Lingering onward dreamily
In an evening of July --
Children three that nestle near,
Eager eye and willing ear,
Pleased a simple tale to hear --
Long has paled that sunny sky:
Echoes fade and memories die:
Autumn frosts have slain July.
Still she haunts me, phantomwise,
Alice moving under skies
Never seen by waking eyes.
Children yet, the tale to hear,
Eager eye and willing ear,
Lovingly shall nestle near.
In a Wonderland they lie,
Dreaming as the days go by,
Dreaming as the summers die:
Ever drifting down the stream --
Lingering in the golden dream --
Life, what is it but a dream?
THE END
poem by Lewis Carroll
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Talk More Talk
A master can highlight the phrases,
Sleasy instruments, half talked, half baked ideas...
Dad, you didnt say o.k....
The window was open, outside was a spaceship,
(a master can highlight the phrases) it took off into the sky
Leaving a trail of smoke behind it...
Short of the standard. was it the sun?
What was rehearsal? conventional drum?
Not quite a hundred. less that a ton.
Clearly the time came, the plan had begun.
With talk, more talk. chat, more chat.
Words of a feather are worn in a hat.
Talk, more talk. chat, more chat. Im happy to do it for you...
Developed since earlier days at the school
Cheapest sensations were used as a rule.
Outstanding to memory, major free flow.
Bio-degradable, look out below for...
Talk, more talk, oh I love to hear the gentle sound
Of conversation sprinkled around
A room where I can be at one with you for...
Talk, more talk. chat, more chat,
Words of a feather are worn in a hat.
Talk, more talk. chat, more chat. happy to do it for you...
Im happy to do it for you... Im happy to do it for you,
Im happy to do it, Im happy to do it... Im happy to do it for you.
Digital organ, finishing stretch, instrumentation, analogue gretsch.
Not quite a thousand, lower than that.
Possible bargain for listening at that...
Talk, more talk. chat, more chat.
Words of a feather are worn in a hat.
Talk, more talk. chat, more chat.
Im happy to do it for you...
All you want is a handyman and all you want is quick service.
Because Im a house owner. Im a house owner.
It may be worth something someday.
I hear water going through the pipes.
I dont actually like sitting down music. music is idea.
Talk, more talk. chat, more chat.
Words of a feather are worn in a hat.
Talk, more talk. chat, more chat.
A master can tell, highlight the phrases his words to digress
Grey flannel trousers... grey flannel trousers.
A blazer and grey flannel trousers.
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ever After
The life of a fairy tale.
Can be like our own.
The ending is happy.
But the story unknown.
The story begins.
Then there’s always a twist.
You can’t get to the ending.
Unless you persist.
Some stop reading the story.
When things, they look bleak.
They don’t have the strength.
Their hearts are too weak.
So they grab a new tale.
Then the reading begins.
If it ends in the middle.
Then nobody wins.
So things just seem hopeless.
Because we always quit.
We don’t finish the story.
To the fear we submit.
God tells us, “Hold on.”
“The ending is near.”
“Just keep reading the story.”
“Don’t give in to fear.”
“Believe in My ending.”
“Believe and then hope.”
“That the hero will climb up.”
“From the end of his rope.”
And so you continue
The prince finds his queen
The greatest fairy tale ending
You ever had seen
But had you not finished.
The true ending unknown.
The prince would not have a queen.
To share with his throne.
Fairy tales are filled.
With both sadness and laughter.
Where you finish the story.
Becomes your ever after.
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Life is but a Dream
A boat, beneath a sunny sky
Lingering onward dreamily
In an evening of July
Children three that nestle near,
Eager eye and willing ear,
Pleased a simple tale to hear
Long has paled that sunny sky;
Echoes fade and memories die;
Autumn frosts have slain July.
Still she haunts me, phantomwise,
Alice moving under skies
Never seen by waking eyes.
Children yet, the tale to hear,
Eager eye and willing ear,
Lovingly shall nestle near.
In a Wonderland they lie,
Dreaming as the days go by,
Dreaming as the summers die;
Ever drifting down the stream
Lingering in the golden gleam
Life, what is it but a dream?
poem by Lewis Carroll
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Epilogue to Through the Looking Glass
A boat, beneath a sunny sky
Lingering onward dreamily
In an evening of July --
Children three that nestle near,
Eager eye and willing ear
Pleased a simple tale to hear --
Long has paled that sunny sky:
Echoes fade and memories die:
Autumn frosts have slain July.
Still she haunts me, phantomwise
Alice moving under skies
Never seen by waking eyes.
Children yet, the tale to hear,
Eager eye and willing ear,
Lovingly shall nestle near.
In a Wonderland they lie,
Dreaming as the days go by,
Dreaming as the summers die:
Ever drifting down the stream --
Lingering in the golden gleam --
Life what is it but a dream?
poem by Lewis Carroll
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Foremostly, I Am Still Beast...
i shall not restrain myself forever,
flowers open to the sun somehow,
buds turning into full orange petals
red centers, glossy views of the
coming days,
i am bound, i have long accepted that,
my hands have ropes as stems,
but my heart is too a sharp knife
that cuts across those hidden
boundaries of my own being
i am free, this morning, i tell myself
beside you, i am, unbound and you
look at the happy angle of my face,
half-moon, half-sun, half-beast
half-human,
at a certain hour of the day,
i wish i have achieved a certain
divinity of my thoughts,
but soon, these all crumple, i am not
that mostly, i am beast,
i am undefined, but most of all,
i content with the mystery
that you still love me.
my fingers run wild over the belly
of your body, the navel tells the story
of love and hate,
the mind closes some more
there is no distraction anymore about the
promises of certainties,
for these are all unnecessary.
meanwhile, the emptiness rests on the floor
like a dog,
the desire to be beast is on top of the bed
with you, another beast,
on mutual tolerances.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Road Warriors Ament
Theres a silence full of stars
For as far as I can see
In the silence where you are
Do you ever dream of me?
The moon is dark; the night is silver
Wild perfume is on the breeze
I feel the stars cold as forever
Half as true as you and me
Ill be your friend; Ill be your lover
Ill be whatever you ever need
Right to the end, until its over
I swear to you, you can count on me
But my heart is breaking here tonight
My soul is weary from the fight
My god, Ive tried and Ive been true
My love, Im coming home to you
song performed by by Kris Kristofferson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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FootPrints In The Sand
footprints in the sand
heading that way as it
leads away it leaves a
tale.
a tale of pain a tale of sorrow
a tale of hurt a tale to be told
whispir in my ear a tale of a
new generation
a generation of determination
where love is an everyday thing
and not as rare as a blue moon
so foot prints in the sand
your tale was heard as it hit
the nation pure like solid gold
so though your mist wash away
your tale live on till today
poem by Robert Roberts
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The Fever-Dream
IT was a fever-dream; I lay
Awake, as in the broad bright day,
But faint and worn I drew my breath
Like those who wait for coming death;
And my hand lay helpless on my pillow
Weak as a reed or bending willow;
And the night-lamp, with its shadowy veil,
And its light so sickly, faint, and pale,
Gleamed mournfully on objects round;
And the clock's stroke was the only sound;
Measuring the hours of silent time
With a heavy and unwelcome chime,
As still monotonously true
To its pulse-like beat, the minutes flew.
I was alone, but not asleep;
Too weary, and too wetk to weep.
My eyes had closed in sadness there;
And they who watched o'er my despair
Had placed that dim light in the room,
And deepened the surrounding gloom,
By curtaining out the few sad rays
Which made things present to my gaze;
And all because they vainly thought
At last the night its rest had brought,--
Alas! rest came no more to me
So heavy was my misery!
They left me, and my heart was filled
With wandering dreams, whose fancies thrilled
Painfully through my feeble brain,
Till I almost wished them back again.
Yet wherefore should I bid them stay?
They could not chase those dreams away,
But only watch me as I lay.
They left me, and the midnight stroke
From the old clock the silence broke;
And with a wild repining sigh
I wished it were my time to die!
And then, with spirit all dismayed,
For that wild wish, forgiveness prayed,
Humbling myself to God's high power
To bear His will, and wait His hour.
And while I darkly rested there,
The breath of a young child's floating hair,
Perfumed, and warm, and glistening bright,
Swept past me in the shrouding night;--
And the footsteps of children, light and quick,
(While my heart beat loud, and my breath came thick)
Went to and fro on the silent floor;--
And the lock was turned in the fastened door,
As a child may turn it, who tiptoe stands
With his fair round arms and his dimpled hands,
Putting out all their strength in vain
Admittance by his own means to gain:
Till his sweet impatient voice is heard
Like the chirp of a young imprisoned bird,
Seeking an entrance still to win
By fond petitions to those within.
A child's soft shadowy hair, bright smiles,
His merry laugh, and coaxing wiles,
These are sweet things,--most precious things,--
But in spite of my brain's wild wanderings,
I knew that they dwelt in my fancy only,
And that I was sad, and left, and lonely;
And the fear of a dreadful madness came
And withered my soul like a parching flame;
And I felt the strong delirium growing,
And the thread of my feeble senses going,
And I heard with a horror all untold
Which turned my hot blood icy-cold,
Those light steps draw more near my bed;
And by visions I was visited,
Of the gentle eyes which I might not see,
And the faces that were so far from me!
And blest, oh I blest was the morning beam
Which woke me up from my fever-dream!
poem by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Big Kid and the Tall Tale
The big kid stood
by the garden shed
with others kids and you
the horticultural teacher
was down by the beds
with some other kids
whom he was showing
how to dig
and the big kid said
I had her
back there
up in those woods
at the end
of the playing field
the other kids
moved in closer
to get a better grip
on the tale told
you stood on
the perimeter
of the crowd
one eye
on the big kid
the other on the teacher
bent over a kid
showing him how
to hold a spade
and you know what?
the big kid said
she was some goer
the other kids
looked at him
then at each other
some plump kid
with spots laughed
you looked over
towards the woods
by the playing field
a quaint woodland
over by the fence
and near the road
and you know
what it's like? Huh?
the big kid said
the kids nodded
you noticed
their eyes large
and their tongues
at the corner
of mouths
it was like slipping
into a warm bed
the big kid said
on a cold night
the teacher made
his way towards
you and the kids
by the shed
the big kid
made gestures
with his hand
and the boys sniggered
half catching on
to the gesture's tale
the big kid's hands
went into pockets
out of sight
the other kids
moved towards
the teacher's
calling voice
you followed
unwillingly
having little choice.
poem by Terry Collett
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