November, 1806
. Another year!--another deadly blow!
Another mighty Empire overthrown!
And We are left, or shall be left, alone;
The last that dare to struggle with the Foe.
'Tis well! from this day forward we shall know
That in ourselves our safety must be sought;
That by our own right hands it must be wrought;
That we must stand unpropped, or be laid low.
O dastard whom such foretaste doth not cheer!
We shall exult, if they who rule the land
Be men who hold its many blessings dear,
Wise, upright, valiant; not a servile band,
Who are to judge of danger which they fear,
And honour which they do not understand.
poem by William Wordsworth
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Related quotes
Another year, another day
Another year, another yearn at our door to blow
Another dream another quest suffocated and overthrown
And we are left or shall be left abandened and alone
Who would dare to struggle a dicing fate or shadows gloom of foe
This will well be from this day forward; we shall swear we know
That in ourselves our safety our fate must be sought
That by our own hands it must be wrought
That we must stand self defined and defiant or be laid low
Oh dear soul in me rise, rise and renew your growth spread your glow
Let your spirit be free
Let it be
Come fly away with the pert and nimble winds
That will carry you with Cupid new love wings
Another year, another day
Another season, another delay
Don’t let it go
Act, do what to yourself you owe
copy rights 2010
Mother India
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
You are the paradise on earth
Where things are not in any dearth.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
In Your Lap live men and women
Of every caste and religion.
You rain your love and affection
On them all without distinction.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
You have got a peculiar trait
Due to which you are very great.
You adopt the foreigners too,
Who like to live and die for you.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
You are beautiful, all perfect;
You are rich in every aspect.
In the ancient times, we have heard,
Aliens called you ‘a golden bird’
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
The mountains guard your honour here;
The ocean washes your feet there.
The rivers contain sweet water
Which for us is just like nectar.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
Our culture is ancient and high,
We are respected that is why.
Culture has bound us by and by,
With a chain of pure love and tie.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
We are sorry here live some men
Who are not loyal, but still then,
Pose as lovers of this nation,
Whom we do not like to mention.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
We are sorry here live some men;
Fire of hatred they ever fan.
Freedom, we fear, may not be lost,
Which we have got at a great cost.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
Let us be wise not to be tool
Of selfish powers which befool
Those who do not well understand
Their aim which is behind their stand.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
We will be lucky, if we die
For you, O Gracious Country High!
We’ll give them a fitting reply,
Who see you with a slanting eye.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
poem by Aziz Ahmad
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Mother India
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
You are the paradise on earth
Where things are not in any dearth.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
In Your Lap live men and women
Of every caste and religion.
You rain your love and affection
On them all without distinction.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
You have got a peculiar trait
Due to which you are very great.
You adopt the foreigners too,
Who like to live and die for you.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
You are beautiful, all perfect;
You are rich in every aspect.
In the ancient times, we have heard,
Aliens called you ‘a golden bird’
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
The mountains guard your honour here;
The ocean washes your feet there.
The rivers contain sweet water
Which for us is just like nectar.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
Our culture is ancient and high,
We are respected that is why.
Culture has bound us by and by,
With a chain of pure love and tie.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
We are sorry here live some men
Who are not loyal, but still then,
Pose as lovers of this nation,
Whom we do not like to mention.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
We are sorry here live some men;
Fire of hatred they ever fan.
Freedom, we fear, may not be lost,
Which we have got at a great cost.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
Let us be wise not to be tool
Of selfish powers which befool
Those who do not well understand
Their aim which is behind their stand.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
We will be lucky, if we die
For you, O Gracious Country High!
We’ll give them a fitting reply,
Who see you with a slanting eye.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
poem by Aziz Ahmad 'Aziz Moradabadi'
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On Giving
Those who dare give nothing
Are left with less than nothing;
Dear heart, you give me everything,
Which leaves you more than everything-
Though those who dare give nothing
Might judge it left you less than nothing.
Giving you everything,
I too, who once had nothing,
Am left with more than everything
As gifts for those with nothing
Who need, if not our everything,
At least a loving something.
poem by Robert Graves
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Band Of Gold
(r. dunbar & e. wayne)
Producer for bonnie: jim steinman
Now that youve gone
All thats left is a band of gold
All thats left of the dreams I hold
Is a band of gold
And the memories
Of what love could be
If you were
Still here with me
You took me from the shelter of a mother I had never known
The love of any other
We kissed after taking vows
But that night on our honeymoon
We stayed in separate rooms
I waited in the darkness of my lonely room
Filled with sadness, filled with gloom
Hoping soon
That youd walk back through that door
And love me
Liked you tried before
Since youve been gone
All thats left is a band of gold
All thats left of the dreams I hold
Is a band of gold
And the dream of what love could be
If you were still here with me
Since youve been gone
All thats left is a band of gold
All thats left of the dreams I hold
Is a band of gold
song performed by by Bonnie Tyler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ulster
("Their webs shall not become garments, neither shall they
cover themselves with their works: their works are works
of inquity and the act of violence is in their hands." --
Isaiah lix. 6.)
The dark eleventh hour
Draws on and sees us sold
To every evil power
We fought against of old.
Rebellion, rapine hate
Oppression, wrong and greed
Are loosed to rule our fate,
By England's act and deed.
The Faith in which we stand,
The laws we made and guard,
Our honour, lives, and land
Are given for reward
To Murder done by night,
To Treason taught by day,
To folly, sloth, and spite,
And we are thrust away.
The blood our fathers spilt,
Our love, our toils, our pains,
Are counted us for guilt,
And only bind our chains.
Before an Empire's eyes
The traitor claims his price.
What need of further lies?
We are the sacrifice.
We asked no more than leave
To reap where we had sown,
Through good and ill to cleave
To our own flag and throne.
Now England's shot and steel
Beneath that flag must show
How loyal hearts should kneel
To England's oldest foe.
We know the war prepared
On every peaceful home,
We know the hells declared
For such as serve not Rome --
The terror, threats, and dread
In market, hearth, and field --
We know, when all is said,
We perish if we yield.
Believe, we dare not boast,
Believe, we do not fear --
We stand to pay the cost
In all that men hold dear.
What answer from the North?
One Law, one Land, one Throne.
If England drive us forth
We shall not fall alone!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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The Civil Wars (excerpts)
XXXVI
The swift approach and unexpected speed
The king had made upon this new-rais'd force,
In the unconfirmed troops, much fear did breed,
Untimely hind'ring their intended course.
The joining with the Welsh they had decreed
Was hereby dash'd; which made their cause the worse.
Northumberland, with forces from the north,
Expected to be there, was not set forth.
XXXVII
And yet undaunted Hotspur, seeing the king
So near arriv'd, leaving the work in hand,
With forward speed his forces marshalling,
Sets forth his farther coming to withstand.
And with a cheerful voice encouraging
His well experienc'd and adventurous band,
Brings on his army, eager unto fight;
And plac'd the same before the king in sight.
XXXVIII
"This day," saith he, "my valiant trusty friends,
Whatever it doth give, shall glory give;
This day, with honour, frees our state, or ends
Our misery with fame, that still shall live.
And do but think, how well the same he spends,
Who spends his blood, his country to relieve.
What? have we hands, and shall we servile be?
Why were swords made, but to preserve men free.
XXXIX
"Besides, the assured hope of victory
Which we may even promise on our side,
Against this weak constrained company,
Whom force and fear, not will and love doth guide,
Against a prince, whose foul impiety
The heavens do hate, the earth cannot abide:
Our number being no less, our courage more,
No doubt we have it, if we work therefore."
XL
This said, and thus resolv'd, even bent to charge
Upon the king; who well their order view'd,
And wary noted all the course at large
Of their proceeding, and their multitude,
And deeming better, if he could discharge
The day with safety, and some peace conclude,
Great proffers sends of pardon and of grace
If they would yield, and quietness embrace.
XLI
Which though his fears might drive him to propose,
To time his business, for some other end;
Yet, sure, he could not mean t' have peace with those
Who did in that supreme degree offend.
Nor were they such, as would be won with shows;
Or breath of oaths, or vows could apprehend:
So that in honour the offers he doth make,
Were not for him to give nor them to take.
XLII
And yet this much his courses do approve,
He was not bloody in his natural;
And yield he did to more then might behove
His dignity to have dispens'd withal:
And, unto Worcester, he himself did move
A reconcilement to be made of all:
But Worcester, knowing it could not be secur'd,
His nephews onset, yet for all, procur'd.
XLIII
Which seeing, the king, with greater wrath incens'd,
Rage, against fury, doth with speed prepare.
"And though," said he, "I could have well dispens'd
With this day's blood, which I have sought to spare;
That greater glory might have recompens'd
The forward worth of these, that so much dare;
That we might good have had by th' overthrown,
And the wounds we make might not have been our own:
XLIV
"Yet, since that other men's iniquity
Calls on the sword of wrath, against my will;
And that themselves exact this cruelty,
And I constrained am this blood to spill;
Then on, brave followers, on courageously,
True-hearted subjects, against traitors ill;
And spare not them, who seek to spoil us all
Whose foul confused end, soon see you shall."
XLV
Forthwith, began these fury-moving sounds,
The notes of wrath, the music brought from Hell,
The rattling drums, which trumpets voice confounds
The cries, the encouragements, the shouting shrill;
That, all about, the beaten air rebounds
Confused thundering-murmurs horrible;
To rob all sense, except the sense to fight.
Well hands may work; the mind hath lost his sight.
XLVI
O war! begot in pride and luxury,
The child of malice, and revengeful hate;
Thou impious good, and good impiety,
That art the foul refiner of a state;
Unjust-just scourge of men's iniquity,
Sharp-easer of corruptions desperate;
Is there no means but that a sin-sick land
Must be let blood with such a boisterous hand?
XLVII
How well mightst thou have here been spar'd this day,
Had not wrong-counsell'd Percy been perverse?
Whose forward hand, inur'd to wounds, makes way
Upon the sharpest fronts of the most fierce:
Where now an equal fury thrusts to stay
And back-repel that force, and his disperse:
Then these assail, then those re-chase again,
Till stay'd with new-made hills of bodies slain.
XLVIII
There, lo that new-appearing glorious star,
Wonder of arms, the terror of the field,
Young Henry, labouring where the stoutest are,
And even the stoutest forced back to yield;
There is that hand bolden'd to blood and war,
That must the sword, in wondrous actions, wield:
Though better he had learn'd with others' blood;
A less expense to us, to him more good.
XLIX
Yet here had he not speedy succour lent
To his endanger'd father, near oppress'd,
That day had seen the full accomplishment
Of all his travails, and his final rest.
For, Mars-like Douglas all his forces bent
To encounter and to grapple with the best;
As if disdaining any other thing
To do, that day, but to subdue a king.
L
And three, with fiery courage, he assails;
Three, all as kings adorn'd in royal wise:
And each successive after other quails;
Still wond'ring whence so many kings should rise.
And, doubting lest his hand or eyesight fails,
In these confounded, on a fourth he flies,
And him unhorses too: whom had he sped,
He then all kings, in him, had vanquished.
LI
For Henry had divided, as it were,
The person of himself into four parts;
To be less known, and yet known everywhere,
The more to animate his people's hearts;
Who, cheered by his presence, would not spare
To execute their best and worthiest parts.
By which, two special things effected are:
His safety, and his subjects' better care.
LII
And never worthy prince a day did quit
With greater hazard, and with more renown
Than thou didst, mighty Henry, in this fight;
Which only made thee owner of thine own:
Thou never prov'dst the tenure of thy right
(How thou didst hold thy easy-gotten crown)
Till now; and, now, thou shew'st thyself chief lord,
By that especial right of kings: the sword.
LIII
And dear it cost, and much good blood is shed
To purchase thee a saving victory:
Great Stafford thy high constable lies dead,
With Shorly, Clifton, Gawsell, Calverly,
And many more; whose brave deaths witnessed
Their noble valour and fidelity:
And many more had left their dearest blood
Behind, that day, had Hotspur longer stood.
LIV
But he, as Douglas, with his fury led,
Rushing into the thickest woods of spears,
And brakes of swords, still laying at the head
(The life of th' army) whiles he nothing fears
Or spares his own, comes all invironed
With multitude of power, that over-bears
His manly worth; who yields not, in his fall;
But fighting dies, and dying kills withal.
LV
What ark, what trophy, what magnificence
Of glory, Hotspur, had'st thou purchas'd here;
Could but thy cause as fair as thy pretence
Be made unto thy country to appear!
Had it been her protection and defence
(Not thy ambition) made thee sell so dear
Thyself this day, she must have here made good
An everlasting statue for thy blood.
LVI
Which thus mis-spent, thy army presently,
(As if they could not stand, when thou wert down)
Dispers'd in rout, betook them all to fly:
And Douglas, faint with wounds, and overthrown,
Was taken; who yet won the enemy
Which took him (by his noble valour shown,
In that day's mighty work) and was preserv'd
With all the grace, and honour he deserv'd.
...
poem by Samuel Daniel
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You Left It Up To Me
When I let you go
I cursed myself with empty hands
Strong enough to watch you walk
But not enough to understand
With spiteful eyes you burn for my grace
I was trying to stand outside of this
You were trying to save face
You can say that I dont care
I dont care
You can hope that we still
Have something left to share
But just between you baby and me
Just between me baby and you
Theres nothing there
I finally found someone I can hold
You ask me to defend myself
As if I shouldnt be so bold well
Get that look off of your face
I dont have the time
You dont have the place
To say that I dont care
I dont care
To hope that we still
Have something left to share
And just between me baby and you
Just between you baby and me
Theres nothing there
Baby what are you gonna do
I cant salvage any truth for you
Everybody else already knows
It hurts you to realize
So leave well enough
Enough alone
And you dont need my hands
To help you understand
You dont need to hear my voice
(you have no choice)
So dont be throwing stones
The closer we get
The harder they come
Now even if your feeling alone
Dont come home
Cause when it was up to you
When it was up to you
You left it up to me
Oh you left
Oh you left
Oh you left it up to me
When it was up to you
You left it up to me
song performed by by Indigo Girls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Extemporary Counsel Given To A Young Gallant In A Frolick.
As you are Young, if you'l be also Wise,
Danger with Honour court, Quarrels despise;
Believe you then are truly Brave and Bold,
To Beauty when no Slave, and less to Gold;
When Vertue you dare own, not think it odd,
Or ungenteel to say, I fear a God.
poem by Anne Killigrew
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Since You Left
My dear, since you left
Rain of tears have been
Falling down my eyes.
My dear, when you left
My eyes knew no smile,
You took all with you
When you left.
My dear, what would I do
If not for your beautyful smile.
My dear, since you left
This cold has become
My best friend without
You to hold?
Since you left, my dear
Since you left.
My life knew no other you.
I love you my dear,
I love you.
Would you come back now
And stay as close to my heart
Like you were,
Before you left.
Now you know I love you
My dear, I love you.
poem by Efe Benjamin
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Dear Old Friend
Dear old friend,
How far back does your memory span?
does it go through last year?
or before marching band?
Do you remember nail fights
do you remember seeing me cry?
do you remember not seeing me after
do you remember understanding why?
Do you remember cuddle puddles?
Do you remember the tickle war?
do you remember stealing my stuff
and then trying to get back from you on the floor?
Do you remember when you were to high to stand?
do you remember me being there until i could be sure you were okay?
do you remember competitions we went to
playing a rigged game of cards along the way?
do you remember how much fun we had?
do you remember when it ended?
when nome left and things fell apart
making us do things that offended?
I remember
I remember a time when I was at peace
I remember being happy all the time
i remember your hugs
that always felt sublime.
I remember our friendship
I remember what you said
I remember this year that
is now gone and quite dead
oh my dear old friend
what has happened in this year?
what has made things change so
that I am not considered by you a peer?
well there is little
more for me to say
now that I'm done
I'll go away
just think about
the things said here
and know at least
I still hold you dear
My dear old friend
poem by Jack Harris
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Danger
With what a childish and short-sighted sense
Fear seeks for safety; recons up the days
Of danger and escape, the hours and ways
Of death; it breathless flies the pestilence;
It walls itself in towers of defence;
By land, by sea, against the storm it lays
Down barriers; then, comforted, it says:
"This spot, this hour is safe." Oh, vain pretence!
Man born of man knows nothing when he goes;
The winds blow where they list, and will disclose
To no man which brings safety, which brings risk.
The mighty are brought low by many a thing
Too small to name. Beneath the daisy's disk
Lies hid the pebble for the fatal sling.
poem by Helen Hunt Jackson
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Rock 'N' Roll Band
If we were a rock 'n' roll band,
We'd travel all over the land.
We'd play and we'd sing and wear spangly things.
If we were a rock 'n' roll band.
If we were a rock 'n' roll band,
And we were up there on the stand,
The people would here us and love us and cheer us.
Hurray for that rock 'n' roll band.
If we were a rock 'n' roll band,
Then we'd have a million fans.
We'd giggle and laugh and sign autographs,
If we were a rock 'n' roll band.
If we were a rock 'n' roll band.
The people would all kiss our hands.
We'd be millionaires and have extra long hair,
If we were a rock 'n' roll band.
But we ain't no rock 'n' roll band,
We're just seven kids in the sand.
With homemade guitars and pails and jars
And drums of potato chip cans.
Just seven kids in the sand.
Talk'n and waven' our hands.
And dreamin' and thinkin' oh wouldn't it be grand,
If we were a rock 'n' roll band.
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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Then You Left Me
I never ask for any time from you baby.
I never ask for any lies.
You only hurt the one you love the most baby.
You only had to make me cry.
'Cause you left me (you left me) all alone (you left me)
You left me(you left me) to stand alone.
And ev'ry night I sit beside my bed baby.
And I keep thinking of your love.
The things we dreamed about.
How much I love you baby.
We had the world and the stars above.
But then you left me (you left me) all alone.(you left me)
You left me . You left me (you left me) to stand alone.
You left me to stand alone.
You left me to stand alone.
You left me. You left me. You left me. You left me.
song performed by by Bee Gees from Cucumber Castle
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Skyline Riders
Against the light of a dawning white
My Skyline Riders stand—
There is trouble ahead for a dark year dead
And the selfish wrongs of a land;
There are hurrying feet of fools to repeat
The follies of Nineteen Eight,
But darkly still on each distant hill
My riders watch and wait.
My Skyline Riders are down and gone
As far as the eye can see,
And the horses stand in the shades of dawn
Where a single man holds three.
We feel the flush and we feel the thrill
Of the coming of Nineteen Nine,
For my Skyline Riders are over the hill
And into the firing line.
The skyline lifts while a storm-cloud lowers—
What’s that? A shot! All’s well!
There is news out there for this land of ours
That the tattling rifles tell.
A “thud” and a “thud” and a flash like blood!
There is light on the land at last!
Australian guns on the nearer hills
Are talking about the past.
O, a lonely place in the days gone by
Was the long first firing line,
Where we fought as strangers, you and I,
For the land that was yours and mine.
There was time to dream in the firing line,
There was time to starve and die,
When the only things in that world of mine
Were my Native Land and I.
O, a lonely place was the firing line
When the gaps were wide between—
Hundreds of miles, in this land of mine
And never a soldier seen.
The dying must die and the dead were left
Unmarked by the deadly tired—
When struck to the heart in a firing line
Where never a shot was fired.
O, a lonely place was the firing line
In the days of the dearth of men,
But hundreds and hundreds of soldiers’ sons
Have flocked to the line since then
We left it weak in the hour of pride,
When our rule seemed firmly set,
But danger threatened the firing line,
And there’s deadly danger yet.
Proud of virtue, and proud of sin,
Or proud ’neath a cruel wrong;
Proud in failure or proud to win—
Oh, the pride of man is strong!
Proud of gold or of being without
Or proud of women and wine—
But get you down from your horse of pride
And into the firing line.
Pride in poverty—all the same—
There’s work for all men to do,
With wrong to fight there is deathless fame
To win in a land so new.
Preacher and drunkard! and sportsman and bard!
In the dawning of Nineteen Nine—
Saints and sinners! ride hard! ride hard!
They are pressed in the Firing Line.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Growing Pangs
Is the year worth the time?
I've yet to decide.
I suppose this is how it was designed,
we are all but etchings washed away by tide.
The motivation at once burrowed within
has vacated me thus far and now.
Apathy is one of the seven deadly sin,
I'm too apathetic to know what that endows.
Each day comes with struggles.
The night, the day's affliction.
Is each day a struggle worth struggle?
The night, the day's corruption.
And without a doubt in my mind
this will be the hardest thing I'll ever do,
breaking from all this childhood bind
to move forward thus leave behind you.
I fear upcoming graduation,
I've worked so hard for this alone.
Emancipation tastes so sweet yet bitter,
a departure from all I've ever known.
It was a road paved in tears,
fresher pavement then I care to admit.
It was all for her throughout the years,
but to take her from me was seen fit.
My best friend, my support and all my fight.
I've lost her, she's left me for this life,
in a tunnel, no light for guidance in sight.
Goodbye my best friend, Hello my strife.
poem by Lindsey Wolf
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Cleveland's Song
Farewell! Farewell! the voice you hear,
Has left its last soft tone with you,-
Its next must join the seaward cheer,
And shout among the shouting crew.
The accents which I scarce could form
Beneath your frown's controlling check,
Must give the word, above the storm,
To cut the mast, and clear the wreck.
The timid eye I dared not raise,-
The hand, that shook when press'd to thine,
Must point the guns upon the chase-
Must bid the deadly cutlass shine.
To all I love, or hope, or fear,-
Honour, or own, a long adieu!
To all that life has soft and dear,
Farewell! save memory of you!
poem by Sir Walter Scott
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My Baby Left Me
(words & music by arthur crudup)
Yes my baby left me,
Never said a word.
Was it something I done,
Something that she heard?
My baby left me,
My baby left me.
My baby even left me,
Never said a word.
Now I stand at my window,
Wring my hands and cry.
I hate to lose that woman,
Hate to say goodbye.
You know she left me,
Yes, she left me.
My baby even left me,
Never said a word.
Baby, one of these mornings,
Lord, it wont be long,
Youll look for me and,
Baby, and daddy hell be gone.
You know you left me,
You know you left me.
My baby even left me,
Never said a word.
Now, I stand at my window,
Wring my hands and moan.
All I know is that
The one I love is gone.
My baby left me,
You know she left me.
My baby even left me,
Never said a word.
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Girl I Left Behind Me
I said: “I leave my bit of land-
In khaki they've entwined me,
I go abroad to lend a hand.”
Said she: “My love, I understand.
I will be true, and though we part
A thousand years you hold my heart'-
The girl I left behind me.
I went away to fight the Huns-
No coward thought could bind me,
I sizzled n the tropic suns,
I faced the bayonets and the guns.
And when in daring deeds I shone
One little woman spurred me on-
The girl I left behind me.
Out there, in grim Gallipoli.
Hard going they assigned me,
I pricked the Turk up from the sea;
I riddled him, he punctured me;
And, bleeding in my rags, I said:
“She'll meet me somewhere if I'm dead-
The girl I left behind me.
In France we broke the German's face-
They tried with gas to blind me.
In mud we bogged from front to base,
And dirt was ours, but not disgrace.
They carved me till I couldn't stand.
Said I “Now for the Lodden, and
The girl I left behind me.
I came ashore, and struck the track;
For dust you scarce could find me.
The dear girl gave no welcome back-
Shed changed her names and state, alack!
“You've been a time, I must say, Ned,
In finishing your old war.” Said
The girl I left behind me.
I flung a song up to the skies.
For battles gods designed me.
I think of Fifi's laughing eyes,
And Nami, dusk, but sweet and wise,
And chortle in my heart to find
How very far I've left behind-
The girl I left behind me.
poem by Edward George Dyson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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La Persisto
Your life is in such a brief instant
Why reign over barren land?
Abdicate, meditate, plant a seed,
Kick up dust as you take a stand.
Standing in fear gets you nowhere,
Let curiousity take the lead
At least you will keep moving forward
And arrive where you're destined to be
So stand and laugh out for your birthright
Begin the trek, no fear of dying
Your comfort zone left far behind you
And a heart that says Never Stop Trying
© 2012
poem by Ruby Honeytip
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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