Maid Quiet
WHERE has Maid Quiet gone to,
Nodding her russet hood?
The winds that awakened the stars
Are blowing through my blood.
O how could I be so calm
When she rose up to depart?
Now words that called up the lightning
Are hurtling through my heart.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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Related quotes
Fragment: Ye Gentle Visitations Of Calm Thought
Ye gentle visitations of calm thought--
Moods like the memories of happier earth,
Which come arrayed in thoughts of little worth,
Like stars in clouds by the weak winds enwrought,--
But that the clouds depart and stars remain,
While they remain, and ye, alas, depart!
poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Child's words
Child's words, in the woods
Through the leaves, to my towns
Hey, hey, where are you?
Child's happiness fill the air
Covering the nervous heart but it still on shine
Child's words, in the seas
Swiming the fishes, around the earth
Hey, hey, who are you?
Child's innocence into the winds
Blowing the seamen and ringing the bell
Child's words, in my heart
Keep it beating, running the blood
Hey, hey, what did you do?
Child's something keep me young
Child's something I never found
poem by Old Amsterdam
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Lamia in Blackburn Wood
[In the form of traditional folk ballad.]
I
In Blackburn Wood a maid betrothed
that rode a garlanded mare
by cutthroat maimed for maidenhood
writhed in crimson there.
Dislimbed beneath a shrieking sun
and left for carrion-kite,
the savaged maid survived their beaks,
and slithered into night.
II
By summer's end, to Blackburn Wood
a sheath of night returned;
beneath its hood and tapered robe
maiden vengeance burned.
'Disrobe and yield or fall in blood,
this blade rejects all pleas:
I leave a maid a looping asp
that will not lift her knees.'
'I'll shed my robe and hood that am
no maid to fear such thing;
to chill your blazing blood I bear
a maiden's righteous sting.'
III
A lethal hiss cut short his grunts,
bestial snarl hardened to stone,
as ramping venom drained him faint
and pale as weathered bone.
Up from a clump of blasted weeds
there rose in mid-day light
from cutthroat's ribs and skull, pecked clean,
a flock of swollen kite.
A field away a sheath of scales,
resembling robe and hood,
curled round a broken garland
redeemed in Blackburn Wood.
*(Lamia in Greek myth is a serpent with the head
and breasts of a woman.)
poem by William F Dougherty
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Elizabeth and Albert
Elizabeth wore black hooded gown
red rose in her hand
soft winds blowing all around
she walked the hills through Ivory and heather
to where a gravestone lay
placed the rose upon her loved ones grave
looked out across the sea as tears fell down her face.
She walked the hills everyday
days turned into months
these hills was their favourite place
‘twas where they first met, first kissed, first made love.
Cold winter months set in
single rose in her hand
she walked through windswept heather
strong winds blowing her gown
placed rose upon Albert’s grave
whispers i’ll come back tomorrow
i shall always bring you a rose
my dearest Albert my heart is yours.
As she walked down the stony pathway
through boulders covered in moss
she slipped and fell to her death
died upon rocks
her ghostly image can be seen
walking through the heather
her love for him was so strong
red rose she holds forever.
poem by Janet Whittaker
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Calm Is Who I Am Now
CALM IS WHO I AM NOW
Calm is who I am now
Calm and quiet-
I have done
What I could do-
The rest is repetition-
Slowly slowly
Time is taking me away-
How long I do not know-
How much pain I do not know-
Calm is who I am now -
Quiet quiet
Before the fears return again
And the anxiety over what I have not done-
Calm is who I am now
In these moments at this hour
Four in the morning
A small part of the long day to come.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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First rose
A heart of youthful year was yearning,
Crying out the pain; the burning
Tears would e’er remain until
An answer from the man would see them die.
A sympathetic mirror blessed her –
Softened up the curves, caressed her
Skin to help regain a calm –
Assuage a heaving breast and blushing eye.
And through a struggling mind, a chiming:
Someone at the door; the timing
Perfect and exquisite in the
Reconciliation of her woes.
She took the oak to make the parting,
‘Here! ’ a presentation startling.
Drawing deep through radiant lips, she
Kissed her very dream: a crimson rose.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
rose rose rose rose: : rose rose rose rose
rose rose rose rose: : rose rose rose rose
rose rose rose rose: : rose rose rose rose
rose rose rose rose: : rose rose rose rose
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Snatching solitude
Snatching solitude from sleep
For a few wakeful hours, to reclaim myself
From the web of relationships that define us
And the responsibilities that dictate our days
Now that isn’t such a wise thing!
Doctors often say, while they tend to the heart
As an organ, rarely seeing the soul
That needs mending too
But now that stillness overcomes hurtling day
I tend to my temple
That stands with windows open
Welcoming new winds from o’er the land
That quiet corner is my favourite place
Where a candle glows, softly
Lighting up dark corners, and freeing my spirit
To commune with the vastness beyond
Sometimes a quiet whisper holds clues
To a story yet to unfold, while at others
The quiet holds me in a warm embrace
While I snatch solitude from sleep.
poem by Anita Atina
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No Mercy
i close my eyes
again to what i recently see
memories strangled like hair
of a woman
on a barbed wire
blood spurts on the thorns
of a white rose
one evening
when the stars are awakened
by the sound of a man
calling the name of his lost woman
three letters
R
I
P.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Tradewinds
(macdonald / salter)
Here I stand looking, looking around me
While all around me what do I see
Unhappy faces behind a painted smile
Heartache and loneliness dressed up in modern style
Unhappy people living in sin and shame
Reflections of myself, life is no easy game
Were caught in the trade winds
The trade winds of our time
Here I stand looking, looking around me
While all around me what do I see
Young girls wholl soon become
Streetwalkers in the night
Young boys, the restless breed
Looking for a fight
Children both rich and poor
Theyre searching for the truth
If they dont find it
God help tomorrows youth
Were caught in the trade winds
The trade winds of our time
Trade winds are blowing, blowing around me
While all around me what do I see
Hatred and jealousy
Brotherhood is dying
Love is the answer
But nobodys buying
Good people turning bad
Some dont but they are few
The winds are blowing
The choice is all up to you
Were caught in the trade winds
The trade winds of our time
Yes were caught up in the trade winds
The trade winds of our time
We are riding on the trade winds
The trade winds of our time
song performed by by Rod Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dainties
Dainties, sin, ten, net, stain, in, sand, den, it;
And like burning coals,
But let the men of blood depart from you! !
Spice, rice, ice, nice, mice, dice, price, lice, vice;
And like two boiled eggs and gin!
But let the men of blood depart from you.
Dainties, tan, and, an, as, ties, saint, is, ants;
And like the muse of love in the time of war! !
But let the men of blood depart from you.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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I'd Really Love To See You Tonight
Hello, yea it's been awhile
Not much, how 'bout you
I'm not sure why I called
I guess I really just wanted to talk to you
And I was thinking maybe later on
We could get together for awhile
It's been such a long time
And I really do miss your smile
I'm not talking 'bout moving in
And I don't want to change your life
But there's a warm wind blowing, the stars are out
And I really love to see you tonight
We could go walking through a windy park
Take a drive along the beach
Or stay at home and watch t.v.
You see it really doesn't matter much to me
I'm not talking 'bout moving in
And I don't want to change your life
But there's a warm wind blowing, the stars are out
And I really love to see you tonight
I won't ask for promise
So don't have to lie
We both play that game before
Say I love you to say goodbye
I'm not talking 'bout moving in
And I don't want to change your life
But there's a warm wind blowing, the stars are out
And I really love to see you tonight
Babe
I'm not talking 'bout moving in
And I don't want to change your life
But there's a warm wind blowing, the stars are out
And I really love to see you tonight
I'm not talking 'bout moving in
And I don't want to change your life
But there's a warm wind blowing, the stars are out
And I really love to see you
I'm not talking 'bout moving in
And I don't want to change your life
But there's a warm wind blowing, the stars are out
And I really love to see you
Tonight
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Rose Upon My Balcony
The rose upon my balcony the morning air perfuming,
Was leafless all the winter time and pining for the spring;
You ask me why her breath is sweet, and why her cheek is blooming,
It is because the sun is out and birds begin to sing.
The nightingale, whose melody is through the greenwood ringing,
Was silent when the boughs were bare and winds were blowing keen:
And if, Mamma, you ask of me the reason of his singing,
It is because the sun is out and all the leaves are green.
Thus each performs his part, Mamma; the birds have found their voices,
The blowing rose a flush, Mamma, her bonny cheek to dye;
And there's sunshine in my heart, Mamma, which wakens and rejoices,
And so I sing and blush, Mamma, and that's the reason why.
poem by William Makepeace Thackeray
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(Rose poems) Mend my heart! You beautylicious rose!
Mend my heart heart,
Beautiful rose!
Mend my spirit you fabulous
Gorgeous lovely rose!
Mend my soul my
Glittering pretty rose!
Calm the fire in my heart
Oh rose!
Bring peace to my restless spirit
You trusted rose!
Heal my body rose! And cleanse
My soul of sin....oh rose!
You are loved!
Beautiful rose!
poem by Ngaka Motaung
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Bliss
the hills
are legs spread upon the plains
waiting
as some flowers spread their scents
on the thighs
of the valleys
the sun arrives
in its naked grandeur
since then
love, and love and love
has filled the
earth
winds so soft
and clean and fresh
the heart of the earth
beats
for love and love and more love
the sea is quiet and
calm
and then tonight
the moon and stars
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The House Was Quiet and The World Was Calm
The house was quiet and the world was calm.
The reader became the book; and summer night
Was like the conscious being of the book.
The house was quiet and the world was calm.
The words were spoken as if there was no book,
Except that the reader leaned above the page,
Wanted to lean, wanted much most to be
The scholar to whom his book is true, to whom
The summer night is like a perfection of thought.
The house was quiet because it had to be.
The quiet was part of the meaning, part of the mind:
The access of perfection to the page.
And the world was calm. The truth in a calm world,
In which there is no other meaning, itself
Is calm, itself is summer and night, itself
Is the reader leaning late and reading there.
poem by Wallace Stevens
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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The White Rose
A lonely kid had no friends,
within his home his world ends.
He used to dream about colorful roses,
his love for roses was in heavy doses.
His nights filled with fears and tears,
days rolled like million years.
His mom took him to a rose garden one day,
she wanted to buy him a rose plant for his birthday.
The rose plants giggled about the boys face.
Their words wiped his happiness without a trace.
A dropp of his tear fell on a white rose's petal.
The petal turned red like a rare earth metal.
The plant pleaded him 'please don't cry'.
The words of the rose plant made him fly.
He took that plant to his garden.
From then his life was a gladden.
He took care of the white rose like a baby.
Loving that white rose was his full-time hobby.
His dreams and heart were filled with love.
His heart was pure like the whitest dove.
At an evening the rose looked dull and dry.
The kid was full of cry and wondering why,
he didn't stopped his painful weep,
that whole night he didn't sleep.
His tired eyes slept for a minute in a doze,
a voice in his dream told something about the rose,
the dawn broke with the rose blooming,
but the kid was gone missing.
He was never been found not even a hint.
His heart was beating under the roots of the rose plant.
Because in his dream he heard that,
the rose can live forever with a human heart.
So he left his heart and he depart.
poem by Vimal Kumar N
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A Song (#3)
MY heart to thy heart,
My hand to thine;
My lips to thy lips,
Kisses are wine
Brewed for the lover in sunshine and shade;
Let me drink deep, then, my African maid.
Lily to lily,
Rose unto rose;
My love to thy love
Tenderly grows.
Rend not the oak and the ivy in twain,
Nor the swart maid from her swarthier swain.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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A Song (#3)
MY heart to thy heart,
My hand to thine;
My lips to thy lips,
Kisses are wine
Brewed for the lover in sunshine and shade;
Let me drink deep, then, my African maid.
Lily to lily,
Rose unto rose;
My love to thy love
Tenderly grows.
Rend not the oak and the ivy in twain,
Nor the swart maid from her swarthier swain.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Our President
GOD help him! Ay, and let us help him, too,
Help him with our one hundred million minds
Molded to loyalty, so that he finds
The faith of the Republic pulsing through
All clashes of opinion, faith still true
To its divine young vision of mankind's
Freedom and brotherhood. May all the winds,
North, south, east, west, waft him our honor due!
For he is one who, when the tempest breaks
In shattering fury, wild with thunder-jars
And javelins of lightning that transform
All the familiar scene to horror, makes
A hush about him in the heart of storm,
Remembering the quiet of the stars.
poem by Katharine Lee Bates
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The mystic rose
In ancient times
a warrior prince travelled to the East
to find the wisest man on earth.
Stars guided him
over uncharted terrain
to the court of Enoch
who counselled with the Almighty God.
Great and knowledgeable king,
point me the way
to find the most beautiful flower of all,
it’s called the mystic rose,
and like crystal its leaves glitters
in colours of blue, violet and ruby red
and its odour is more divine
than that of any other bloom.
Why do you need this spectre flower
the great wise king asked?
To win the heart of the girl that I desire
the prince proclaimed.
Where will I find the mystic rose?
The rich prince asked again
while his servants
brought great gifts to the wise king.
Enoch looked the prince in the eye
and said:
Somewhere in the depths
of your inner soul
lies the flower that you seek.
Without words the prince
studied the wise king
and thought about his words
without really comprehending.
The words were perplexing to the prince.
What is the mystic rose,
the prince asked at last
Its unconditional, self-sacrificing
and called perfect love
the wisest man said to him.
poem by Gert Strydom
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