En.Citatepedia^®.ro

We Are Children

CHILDREN indeed are we—children that wait
Within a wondrous dwelling, while on high
Stretch the sad vapors and the voiceless sky;
The house is fair, yet all is desolate
Because our Father comes not; clouds of fate
Sadden above us—shivering we espy
The passing rain, the cloud before the gate,
And cry to one another, “He is nigh!”
At early morning, with a shining Face,
He left us innocent and lily-crown’d;
And now this late—night cometh on apace—
We hold each other’s hands and look around,
Frighted at our own shades! Heaven send us grace!
When He returns, all will be sleeping sound.

poem by William Cosmo Monkhouse
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Poem for Marziyya

Our flower-like children
When sleeping early morning
It looks as if fairies descending from clouds
Are resting on silken bed-sheets
Bright and flowery, adorned by Turkmen
Like angels have come down from heavens
In proper order
Rolling rosaries in their strong hands
Praising the Lords
And sitting in bedroom windows
Guard them

Our flower-like children
When sleeping early morning
It looks as if subservient time
Head lowered, hands clasped, dawdling
Waiting by the bedside for them to wake up
So that colours splash, morning light shows up
Flowers spread perfume
Birds sing

Our flower-like children
When sleeping early morning
High above the shining stars
Lower than the heavens
Where fortune is distributed
Almighty packs piety, truthfulness and success
And on the wings of archangels, sends carved chests
Towards their bedrooms
Our flower-like children

[Translated from Urdu by Masror Hausen]

poem by Muhammad Izhar ul Haq
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Stretch Out And Wait

On the high-rise estate
What's at the back of your mind ?
Oh, a three-day debate
On a high-rise estate
What's at the back of your mind ?
Two icy-cold hands conducting the way
It's the eskimo blood in my veins
Amid concrete and clay
And general decay
Nature must still find a way
So ignore all the codes of the day
Let your juvenile influences sway
This way and that way (this way)
This way and that way (this way)
God, how sex implores you
To let yourself lose yourself
Stretch out and wait
Stretch out and wait
Oh ... let your puny body, lie down, lie down
As we lie, you say
As we lie, you say
Stretch out and ...
Stretch out and wait
Stretch out and wait
Oh ... let your puny body lie down, lie down
As we lie, you say :
Will the world end in the night time ?
(i really don't know)
Or will the world end in the day time ?
(i really don't know)
And is there any point ever having children ?
Oh, i don't know
What i do know is we're here and it's now
So ... stretch out and wait
Stretch out and wait
There is no debate, no debate, no debate
How can you conciously contemplate
When there's no debate, no debate ?
Stretch out and wait
Stretch out and wait
Stretch out and wait
Wait
Wait
Wait
Wait

song performed by by Smiths
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Would The Children Think

She wakes up in the morning with the new sunrise
Looks at her husband sleeping still
Inside she cries
She makes the children breakfast
Gets them on their way
Watching them through the window
She prepares to face another day
Then her husband tells her
That he wont be home til late
Theres so much work hell have to stay behind
But she knows it isnt work thats on his mind
But still hell never leave her
Cause what would the children think
Where would the children go
What would the children do
If they knew the way it was
But theyll never learn because
What would the children think
Where would the children think
At the gate she kissed him
And watched him walk
Hoping this small charade
Will stop the neighbors talk
She turns to hide a tear
Inside her gilded cage
She cries for the love she could not hold
And lost to someone half her age
Then her pride and breakin heart
Tell her to run away
But she values what shes got a little more
Two kids, one 9 and nearly 4
And she would never leave them cause
What would the children think
Where would the children go
What would the children do
If they knew the way it was
But theyll never learn because
What would the children think
Where would the children think
What would the children think
Where would the children go
What would the children do.

song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Early Christmas Morning

Listen to the children sing
Watch them dancing all around the Christmas tree
Waiting for the opening
Early Christmas morning

All around the world is sleeping
Little children there's no peeping
Wait and see what Santa's bringing
Early Christmas morning
Early Christmas morning

Icicles and breakfast cakes
Friends and family we will celebrate
Sounds that joy and laughter make
Early Christmas morning

All around and far off places
Angels waken smiling faces
Wrapping us with love and graces
Early Christmas morning
Early Christmas morning

song performed by by Cyndi Lauper from Merry Christmas... Have A Nice Life
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stretch Out & Wait

On the high-rise estate
Whats at the back of your mind ?
Oh, a three-day debate
On a high-rise estate
Whats at the back of your mind ?
Two icy-cold hands conducting the way
Its the eskimo blood in my veins
Amid concrete and clay
And general decay
Nature must still find a way
So ignore all the codes of the day
Let your juvenile influences sway
This way and that way (this way)
This way and that way (this way)
God, how sex implores you
To let yourself lose yourself
Stretch out and wait
Stretch out and wait
Oh ... let your puny body, lie down, lie down
As we lie, you say
As we lie, you say
Stretch out and ...
Stretch out and wait
Stretch out and wait
Oh ... let your puny body lie down, lie down
As we lie, you say :
Will the world end in the night time ?
(I really dont know)
Or will the world end in the day time ?
(I really dont know)
And is there any point ever having children ?
Oh, I dont know
What I do know is were here and its now
So ... stretch out and wait
Stretch out and wait
There is no debate, no debate, no debate
How can you conciously contemplate
When theres no debate, no debate ?
Stretch out and wait
Stretch out and wait
Stretch out and wait
Wait
Wait
Wait
Wait

song performed by by Smiths
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Fore-Elders

When from the child, that still is led
By hand, a father's hand is gone, ---
Or when a few-year'd mother dead
Has left her children growing on, ---
When men have left their children staid,
And they again have boy and maid, ---
O, can they know, as years may roll,
Their children's children, soul by soul?
If this with souls in heaven can be,
Do my fore-elders know of me?

My elders' elders, man and wife,
Were borne full early to the tomb,
With children still in childhood life
To play with butterfly or bloom.
And did they see the seasons mould
Their faces on, from young to old,
As years might bring them, turn by turn,
A time to laugh or time to mourn?
If this with souls in heaven can be,
Do my fore-elders know of me?

How fain I now would walk the floor
Within their mossy porch's bow,
Or linger by their church's door,
Or road that bore them to and fro,
Or nook where once they build their mow,
Or gateway open to their plough
(Though now indeed no gate is swung
That their live hands had ever hung ), ---
If I could know that they would see
Their child's late child, and know of me.

poem by William Barnes
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Some Children See Him

Some children see him
Some children see him lily white,
The baby jesus born this night,
Some children see him lily white,
With tresses soft and fair.
Some children see him bronzed and brown,
The lord of heavn to earth come down;
Some children see him bronzed and brown,
With dark and heavy hair.
Some children see him almond-eyed,
This savior whom we kneel beside,
Some children see him almond-eyed,
With skin of yellow hue.
Some children see him dark as they,
Sweet marys son to whom we pray,
Some children see him dark as they,
And, ah! they love him, too!
The children in each diffrent place
Will see the baby jesus face
Like theirs, but bright with heavnly grace,
And filled with holy light.
O lay aside each earthly thing,
And with thy heart as offering,
Come worship now the infant king.
tis love thats born tonight!

song performed by by Kenny Loggins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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River Of Life

We hold in our hands
the time that is passing
where no one will fall
but everyone stands
for everything that is right

So we'll just hold on tight
we are the children of the light
and we'll make it through
even the darkest night
will see the sky shining bright
and the river of life will flow
where the pain will no longer go

Love will come before us all
like our hearts that are beating
the voices will be heard again
changing everything they do
and the sun will be shining
through every dropp of rain
like the blood that's running

poem by Spiritwind Wood
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A Voice On The Wind

I

She walks with the wind on the windy height
When the rocks are loud and the waves are white,
And all night long she calls through the night,
'O my children, come home!'
Her bleak gown, torn as a tattered cloud,
Tosses around her like a shroud,
While over the deep her voice rings loud,-
'O my children, come home, come home!
O my children, come home!'

II

Who is she who wanders alone,
When the wind drives sheer and the rain is blown?
Who walks all night and makes her moan,
'O my children, come home!'
Whose face is raised to the blinding gale;
Whose hair blows black and whose eyes are pale,
While over the world goes by her wail,-
'O my children, come home, come home!
O my children, come home!'

III

She walks with the wind in the windy wood;
The dark rain drips from her hair and hood,
And her cry sobs by, like a ghost pursued,
'O my children, come home!'
Where the trees loom gaunt and the rocks stretch drear,
The owl and the fox crouch back with fear,
As wild through the wood her voice they hear,-
'O my children, come home, come home!
O my children, come home!'

IV

Who is she who shudders by
When the boughs blow bare and the dead leaves fly?
Who walks all night with her wailing cry,
'O my children, come home!'
Who, strange of look, and wild of tongue,
With wan feet wounded and hands wild-wrung,
Sweeps on and on with her cry, far-flung,-
'O my children, come home, come home!
O my children, come home!'

V

'Tis the Spirit of Autumn, no man sees,
The mother of Death and of Mysteries,
Who cries on the wind all night to these,
'O my children, come home!'
The Spirit of Autumn, pierced with pain,
Calling her children home again,
Death and Dreams, through ruin and rain,-
'O my children, come home, come home!
O my children, come home!'

poem by Madison Julius Cawein
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Take me to the Heaven's,

Take me to the Heaven's,
Take me to the Heaven's,
That I may regard all Living as a Moment of Love,
Iam taking this House for Glory,
In all Regards,
I take Heaven in my Father's House,
The Shelter is that Dwelling Place,
That I hold no Room for any Conjectures,
Let my Place be a Holy Dwelling,
Let me be free all again,
That I may find Forgiveness in that House.

poem by Abdul Karim
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I Was At Hastings Gardens And I Saw

I was at Hastings Gardens and I saw
High, high above and stretching through the stars
The giant Night crawling inexorably
The sea ebbed and flowed all quietly
While giant Night crawled inexorably
Across the marbled blue of heaven’s dome.

I was at Hastings Gardens and I saw
Nigh, nigh around, around me turn and churn
A mist full-hovering around and like a net
Incorporating all it met: grey like a phantom
Stood the Night
Like a grey thief in phantom’s garbs full dressed.

I was at Hastings Gardens and I saw
A sickle huge scar heaven’s face
And spreading horror like a scimitar
Amidst the nebulae amidst the stars
And of a sudden me thought that I heard
A cry pervasive high across the skies
Lo cometh Night make way, make way
I looked in motion saw the sickle huge
Like clouds spreading over heaven’s whole
Is it the Night? Is it The Night?
Is Night a moving sickle in heaven’s face?
No reply to me came; and from the ravelin
Two old oaks whispering in the night I heard.

poem by Emmanuel George Cefai
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The good father

This is the one who can not eat if his children do not eat
This is the who wear unexpensive clothes while his children wear expensive ones
This the one who sacrifice his problems for his children
This is the one who works every day for his children
This the one who can sleep outside the house while his children are inside

Are the children showing the appreciation to his efforts?
Are the children showing sense of appreciation about his love to them?
They show appreciation by writing poems for him
They show love by consoling him when he is in trouble

A good father should be innocent
A good father should act as a head of the family
A good father should give support to the family
The location known as Silityiwa has got such father
This father is known as Sonwabisile Lateta and he is “my” father

poem by Franklin Spetuxolo Lateta
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Early In The Morning

Early in the morning and I cant get right
Had a little date with my baby last night
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Now its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to all the places where we used to go
Went to your house but you dont live there no more
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to your friends house but she was out
Knock on your fathers door and he began to shout get out there boy
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to doogie chain to get something to eat
Waiter looked at me and said you sure look beat
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues

song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dropping By Your House This Morning

i dropped by your house this very early morning
the windows are closed
but the door is half-open
and i could have given in to this little curiosity
that cats keep on their paws
and soft feet
or hands if you may

but i didn't. there is something in the houe
that says
you had a bad day and that night you did not have
a sound sleep

the roses are wilting and a flower pot falls on the ground
broken
the soil splashed like spilled water on the grass

there is no sound of the wind
from the storm last night

i just dropped by. I respect you. The door of the house
finally closed
i did not see the hands that closed it.
it maybe yours
or someone else's

the rug has spoken. You want to be alone.
to keep the faint light left
in that little room. the curtains fall. the lights
went off on that very early morning.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Every Day Is Festival!

Every dawn is decorated,
as if an auspicious day,
As if everyday is festival,
On the treetops shining bulbs of dews,
like golden beads and bulbs,
Every leaf of grass bent with dew drops weight,
As if bowing to welcome the Sun,
fields look like green lakes,
wave of breeze,
on the mountain peak,
Clouds dancing around,
Golden rays piercing darkness,
Shining globules of dews,
Shining like decorative light bulbs,
Reflecting face of nature,
Bathed fresh,
look like a woman just excited
to welcome Sun,
her eternal Love!

Busy birds flying above,
Singing their own song,
Every heart has a song,
Busy, yet hearts kept cool by morning breeze!

In the flow of river,
Or in the sound of waterfalls,
The mantra that chanted,
With bells of temples and churches,
Call for prayer from mosques heard,
But call of love
in every heart is strongly heard,
than any sound

Light of love, melts hearts,
Melts negative feelings,
Bathing in beauty,
Every day is festival,
O mother, you are divine,
Washed by morning dews,
You make everyone to bathe in thy beauty,
just like mother calls children,
When father returns home,
Earth welcomes Sun,
With her children,
Shining whole nature as one!

poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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Sleeping Together

Sleeping together... how tired you were...
How warm our room... how the firelight spread
On walls and ceiling and great white bed!
We spoke in whispers as children do,
And now it was I--and then it was you
Slept a moment, to wake--"My dear,
I'm not at all sleepy," one of us said....

Was it a thousand years ago?
I woke in your arms--you were sound asleep--
And heard the pattering sound of sheep.
Softly I slipped to the floor and crept
To the curtained window, then, while you slept,
I watched the sheep pass by in the snow.

O flock of thoughts with their shepherd Fear
Shivering, desolate, out in the cold,
That entered into my heart to fold!

A thousand years... was it yesterday
When we two children of far away,
Clinging close in the darkness, lay
Sleeping together?... How tired you were....

poem by Katherine Mansfield
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A Hymn for Morning

See the star that leads the day
Rising shoots a golden ray,
To make the shades of darkness go
From heaven above and earth below;
And warn us early with the sight
To leave the beds of silent night,
From a heart sincere and sound
From its very deepest ground,
Send devotion up on high
Wing'd with heat to reach the sky.
See the time for sleep has run,
Rise before, or with the sun,
Lift thine hands and humbly pray
The fountain of eternal day,
That as the light serenely fair
Illustrates all the tracts of air,
The sacred spirit so may rest
With quick'ning beams upon thy breast,
And kindly clean it all within
From darker blemishes of sin,
And shine with grace until we view
The realm it gilds with glory, too.
See the day that dawns in air,
Brings along its toil and care;
From the lap of night it springs
With heaps of business on its wings;
Prepare to meet them in a mind
That bows submissively resign'd,
That would to works appointed fall,
And knows that God has order'd all.
And whether with a small repast
We break our sober morning fast,
Or in our thoughts and houses lay
The future methods of the day,
Or early walk abroad to meet
Our business, with industrious feet,
Whate'er we think, whate'er we do,
His glory still be kept in view.
O Giver of eternal bliss,
Heavenly Father, grant me this;
Grant it all as well as me,
All whose hearts are fix'd on Thee,
Who revere Thy Son above,
Who Thy sacred Spirit love.

poem by Thomas Parnell
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As It Was

Ginny loved it
when the time came
For their annual trip
to the seaside

And her father rented
the house with the big garden
that lead onto the sea.
She and her brothers and sister

Looked forward to it
every year and it seemed the sun
shone almost constantly
And the house seemed

as it was the year before
nothing changed nothing new
just the same rooms
and outlook and young Lily the maid

who came each year too
to help their mother
around the house
and watch

the younger children.
Her mother
Was the organiser
the one who seemed most near

to the children who seemed
to know the children’s needs
and wants and tried to keep
her husband happy

and allow him
his space and quiet
which he valued most of all.
Ginny liked it

when the sea was out
and there was plenty of sand
to play on to make a sand castle
with a moat and drawbridge

made from small pieces of driftwood
found on the beach.

But once her mother died
the seaside house

seemed less welcoming
the sea seemed

hardly ever to go out
than it was back again

the sun was less warm
less friendly

and her father
would mope

around the house
moaning and groaning

In his grief and bellowing
at Lily the maid

to do this and do that
making her cry

and only at night
when all were asleep

and Ginny was snuggled
Down in bed did it seem

as it was when her mother
would enter the room

and sit on the bed
and smile and whisper

the words she used to
placing a ghostly hand

on Ginny’s brow
and kiss her cheek.

Ginny remembered the house
By the sea years later

with the yellowy sand
And walking with Lily

the maid
hand in hand.

poem by Terry Collett
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Chidren Of Abraham

Our Father is the father of all fathers.
Our Father is Abraham’s Father.
Our Father is John’s Father.
Our Father is Joseph’s Father.

Our Father is Jesus’ Father.
Our Father is Paul’s Father.
Jesus would thank our Father for placing the secrets of heaven inside children.
I can be 20 and you can be 105.

We all are nothing but children in Gods perfect eyes.
Children symbolizes no worries,
Matthew Ch 6 v.25-34.
Children symbolizes love,
Matthew Ch5 v.43-48.
Children becomes the salt of the world,
Matthew Ch 5 v.13.

The salt is what makes the world taste good.
The salt are us the children of Abraham,
John,
Joseph,
Paul,
Jesus,
And the children of the Father of all fathers.
Jesus loves the youth so much.
Matthew Ch 19 v.14 Jesus said “the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these”,
Meaning the children.
Matthew Ch 18 v.3” I tell you the truth,
Unless you change and become like children,
You will never enter the kingdom of heaven”.

Are we not children in the Fathers eyes?
Did the Father of all fathers not tell Jesus these things,
John Ch8 v.40?
Do we fall and make mistakes as little children?

Dose a good parent forgives their child after a child apologizes to them?
Dose a child builds in growth when the child cries and stops?
Dose discipline corrects the child when the child shows out?
Many would say “I pay the bills,
Therefore I am grown”,
But dose our Father God pay the bills still or is it the ones who claims their grown?

To the ones who claim their grown of course you put childish things away and you think as an adult,
But I ask you before the world dies and becomes consumed by the dark are you still a child at heart?
Matthew Ch18 v.3,
Children of Abraham please take heed.
Before Jesus returns and awaken all who are sleep.
Pleases realize and see that we all are children.

I may pay bills and work 24/7 with a complete high school education,
But still I teach those who are younger then me about the mercy of Jesus.
By playing video games and watching wrestling and cartoons on television with them.
The children by me already loves our Father Gods poetry.

Me being by their side talking and listing to them makes them smile.
I teach them what I know and I let them know that there’s nothing they can’t ask me about.
I enjoy laughing with them the kids as well,
Because I too am nothing but a child.

poem by Raff Rafael
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when heaven is on Earth

An angel, a cloud passing by,
a silent night, a howling sound.
when heaven is on Earth,
such things are found.

You walk near me,
I'm a shooting star
flying in the sky
you'll never be far

You're the angel,
talking to me
Flashing light wings
so hard to see

you're shining above
the starlight gaze
the way you attract me
I'm just too amazed

Heaven's down on Earth
you take me there,
an innocent glance
a brightening flare

you're carrying me
in your lightweight feet
you're heaven on Earth
the only thing I need.

poem by Amanda Awan
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