At a Fields Cold Edge
At a fields cold edge beneath the moon
I crept toward the woods, but ‘twas too soon
For one so giddy with childhood fears
To enter so quick what once brought tears.
So I turned and ran back through the field
To howl at the moon that was my shield
Against pitch of black, and woodsy brink,
And this was daring enough I think.
poem by Matt Johnston
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
409
Shes real fine my 409
Shes real fine my 409
My 409
Well I saved my pennies and I saved my dimes
(giddy up giddy up 409)
For I knew there would be a time
(giddy up giddy up 409)
When I would buy a brand new 409
(409, 409)
Giddy up giddy up giddy up 409
(giddy up giddy up 409)
Giddy up 409
(giddy up giddy up 409)
Giddy up 409
(giddy up giddy up 409)
Giddy up 40...
Nothing can catch her
Nothing can touch my 409
409 ooooo
(giddy up giddy up oooo)
(giddy up giddy up oooo)
(giddy up giddy up oooo)
(giddy up giddy up)
When I take her to the track she really shines
(giddy up giddy up 409)
She always turns in the fastest times
(giddy up giddy up 409)
My four speed dual quad posi-traction 409
(409, 409, 409, 409)
Giddy up giddy up giddy up 409
(giddy up giddy up 409)
Giddy up 409
(giddy up giddy up 409)
Giddy up 409
(giddy up giddy up 409)
Giddy up 40...
Nothing can catch her
Nothing can touch my 409
(409 409 409 409)
Giddy up 409
(409 409 409 409)
Giddy up 409
(409 409 409 409)
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Alone Tree
She once sat beneath its welcoming arms
Refreshed by its shade and comfort
Sharing all manner of childhood secrets;
Aptly named, her “alone tree.”
There she found refuge for hurtful tears,
A sanctuary to explore her hopes,
Her dreams and fears;
Formed a special bond
That anchored them both to this earth.
Each waxed strong
On their own as together
They weathered the storms.
And, it stands there still,
Its quiet strength and beauty
Still visible there in the morning mist...
That lone tree in the meadow of childhood;
Whose old friend long ago moved on to other fields.
poem by Carolyn Brunelle
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Winter night and the three little men
Winter Night and The Three Little Men.
The Fire burns bright,
While the woods turn to night.
The cold creeps in with sudden quickness
and trees set in sudden ice.
It is, suffice to say, that this is a cold Winter night.
The fire that night kept warm the three little Men
and cast a light that stayed the predators of that cold winter night.
The cold crept and the Wolves howled but all tried in vain
for the fire kept the three little men safe,
but men are lazy and some call them crazy.
All the same because that winter night was to
be the last for the little three men.
The three little men eyes drooped and finely closed
but the poor men forgot to tend the fire.
The fire went out with a flicker then a splutter
and Winter night crept in;
There was one witness that cold Winter night, the Moon.
Try as she could her brightness could not save the poor
little three Men, that cold Winter night.
Josiah, Lozier
poem by Josiah Lozier
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Dark Cold Sound
A dark cold sound...
A dark cold sound tears the life I'm given
Ignite the vision
The vision that brought cold wind against my childhood soul.
The root of unspoken fear
The root grows deep in my heart
A dark cold sound tears at my life
Over and over...
The time when rest is as distant as childhood
When I knew peace
The time when I was happy
The time when I knew peace
Before it came after me
It's coming after me
A dark cold sound
song performed by by Zao from Liberate Te Ex Inferis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Twas warm—at first—like Us
519
'Twas warm—at first—like Us—
Until there crept upon
A Chill—like frost upon a Glass—
Till all the scene—be gone.
The Forehead copied Stone—
The Fingers grew too cold
To ache—and like a Skater's Brook—
The busy eyes—congealed—
It straightened—that was all—
It crowded Cold to Cold—
It multiplied indifference—
As Pride were all it could—
And even when with Cords—
'Twas lowered, like a Weight—
It made no Signal, nor demurred,
But dropped like Adamant.
poem by Emily Dickinson
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Common Place
I am again alone in the corner of my room
head down to my feet like I'm turned to stone
Drowning in my own tears
sweeping all my fears
We're away but had hopes that never dies
We're alone but still assume 'twas all lies
all the pain, was it all the price?
my love to you-a sacrifice?
I knew our hearts beat in symphony
Our lone I felt both melancholy
yet i knew a common place
where the love we knew still stays
I dreamed of dreams to soon arrive
of our reunite on that common place
where love had burgeoned; brought alive
Where the beating had run to race
Aback the steps, we'll go again
as we're awaken by painful vain
when we're at last back to sane
when we got enough of the rain
my dream be real on my awake
Away you go! my fatal aches
Lullabies, at time of my despair
brought not dreams but mere nightmare.
poem by Ellirie Aviles
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Farewell
Not soon shall I forget--a sheet
Of golden water, cold and sweet,
The young moon with her head in veils
Of silver, and the nightingales.
A wain of hay came up the lane--
O fields I shall not walk again,
And trees I shall not see, so still
Against a sky of daffodil!
Fields where my happy heart had rest,
And where my heart was heaviest,
I shall remember them at peace
Drenched in moon-silver like a fleece.
The golden water sweet and cold,
The moon of silver and of gold,
The dew upon the gray grass-spears,
I shall remember them with tears.
poem by Katharine Tynan
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The troops come on with bayonets fixed pushing the people to the mountain’s lip
In a dream I walk in the times gone by
On the western edge of a heartbreak shore
When sleep’s dark fears are howling ‘round
In the bitter bitter dark of a cold wet world
Near the edge of the cliff there’s an angry
crowd with hungry faces crowding around
’fear in their eyes when they hear the drum
In the bitter bitter dark of a cold wet world
The troops come on with bayonets fixed
Pushing the people to the mountain’s lip
A cry goes out as the first goes down
in the bitter bitter dark of a cold wet world
In my dream I walk in the times gone by
As close to the edge as my fears allow
in the air there's a prayer for pity and revenge
In the bitter bitter dark of a cold wet world
poem by Sean Joyce
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The Moon Does Not Regret Her Winter
The moon does not regret her winter,
Or the torn strands of gray chiffon
That cover her face tonight.
As this dew shelters the dry grass like tears,
And shadows of dark leaves
Wait to wither into morning,
The moon fades,
A goddess,
Empty of desire or light.
No, the moon does not regret
This burial of love.
In the coldness of her solitude,
She will not weep tears of rust,
Or betray herself with petty despair.
The moon does not regret dust,
Or the accumulation of her years,
Or this sadness beneath salt, beneath bone.
She has her own time and place,
that which is eternal surrounds her.
When full, she is round and cold
and then she narrows, changes into perfect crescent.
You were like the moon, I never understood
the subtle ways in which you changed.
I only know that like the moon at crescent,
I, too, have lost three-quarters of myself.
poem by Velene Campbell
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An Irish Mile
In my dream I walk in the times gone by
On the western edge of a heartbreak shore
Where sleep’s dark fears are howling ‘round
In the bitter bitter dark of a cold wet world
Near the edge of a cliff there’s an angry
crowd with hungry faces crowding around
’fear in their eyes when they hear the drum
In the bitter bitter dark of a cold wet world
The troops come on with bayonets fixed
Pushing the people to the mountain’s lip
A cry goes out as the first goes down
in the bitter bitter dark of a cold wet world
The troops move off in single file.
The Empire grows by an Irish mile.
A voice cries out from the rocks below in
the bitter bitter dark of a cold wet world
In my dream I walk in the times gone by
As close to the edge as my fears allow
in the air there's a prayer for pity and revenge
In the bitter bitter dark of a cold wet world
poem by Sean Joyce
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In Pain
(carly simon/don grolnick/mike mainieri)
This gray sky
Is good for cryin
These november gray woods
Open to the fields
I came out here
In the cold
For my poor heart
Has turned to frost
I dont understand
What you just told me
What is all this about
About just being friends
Its a lousy lie
And a far cry
>from what goes on
Between you and me
Pain, in pain
Im in pain
You held me close to you
I didnt tell you what to do
We were burnin, burnin
Burnin, burnin
You made love to me
We were cryin, we were flyin
We were dyin in these fields
Wed come out here in the soft nights
I was sunburned under you
Pain, in pain
Im in pain
So you want me to say
Do you want me to say, you want me to say
Say that I dont love you
Do you want me to smile, try, lie
And look away
How far away all the stars seem
And that gypsy moon
Cries, youre a fool
song performed by by Carly Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Now Is Past
_Now_ is past--the happy _now_
When we together roved
Beneath the wildwood's oak-tree bough
And Nature said we loved.
Winter's blast
The _now_ since then has crept between,
And left us both apart.
Winters that withered all the green
Have froze the beating heart.
Now is past.
_Now_ is past since last we met
Beneath the hazel bough;
Before the evening sun was set
Her shadow stretched below.
Autumn's blast
Has stained and blighted every bough;
Wild strawberries like her lips
Have left the mosses green below,
Her bloom's upon the hips.
Now is past.
_Now_ is past, is changed agen,
The woods and fields are painted new.
Wild strawberries which both gathered then,
None know now where they grew.
The skys oercast.
Wood strawberries faded from wood sides,
Green leaves have all turned yellow;
No Adelaide walks the wood rides,
True love has no bed-fellow.
Now is past.
poem by John Clare
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Helaman 14: 31
When the heavens cast their eyes on me,
they cried - I felt their tears on my face;
their tears, they drench me...
and I felt cold.
When the stars cast their eyes on me,
they fell - and I was left in darkness
with the ringing evening bells.
The moon, when she cast her eyes on me,
she died - and was buried in dark clouds;
I was left alone and homeless...
and thought I might as well die;
for the evening bells are ringing...
the heavens - they're still crying.
The stars are all but fallen.
But no, I'll never stay in darkness.
I cast away the dark clouds in my thoughts
and looked up in the heavens.
They still cry but their tears are sweet -
I smiled and felt the tender coldness
it brought in my weary feet.
The stars have fallen, the moon has died,
for the sun has risen and has brought its light.
Heavens gave way, the evening bells retired.
The darkness chose me but I have chosen light.
Death has crept its way and chose me
but I have chosen life.
29 January 2011
Batac
poem by Jessel Jane Tevar
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The Cold Winds Of January
Last night in my dreams i did hear the winds roar
Above the old high fields of far Claramore
A cold Winter moon crept behind clouds to hide
And on the bleak hillside the hungry fox cried
And a bird so distinctive even in his wild cry
The screech of the barn owl echoed in the sky
A Winter's night in January by old Clara hill
The howling of the wind drowned out the babble of the rill
That towards the big river downland ever does flow
Through many a field and by many a hedgerow
Old jack frost of January is in the cold air
And the hedgerows and deciduous trees of their foliage are bare
And the cold winds of January in the dead of night roar
Above the old bare fields of high Claramore.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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They're Not Here, They're Not Coming
(don henley/stan lynch)
From the arizona desert
To the salisbury plain
Lights on the horizon
Patterns on the grain
Anxious eyes turned upward
Clutching souvenirs
Carrying our highest hopes and our darkest fears
They swear there was an accident back in '47
Little man with a great big head
Splattered down from heaven
Government conspiracy; cover-ups and lies
Hidden in the desert under endless skies
Well, it's a cold, cold, cold, cold, cold, cold, cold, cold
Post, postmodern world
No time for heroes, no place for good guys
No room for rocky the flying squirrel
They're not here, they're not coming
Not in a million years
Turn your weary eyes back homeward
Stop your trembling, dry your tears
You may see the heavens flashing
You may hear the cosmos humming
But i promise you, my brother
They're not here, they're not coming
Would they pile into the saucer
Find orlando's rat and hug it?
Go screaming through the universe
Just to get mcnuggets?
Well, i don't think so, i don't think so
It's much too dangerous, it's much too strange
Here in a world that won't give oprah no home on the range
Well, it's a cold, cold, cold, cold, cold, cold, cold, cold
Post, postmodern world
No authenticity, no sign of soul
The radio won't play george and merle
They're not here, they're not coming
Not in a million years
'til we put away our hatred
'til we lay aside our fears
You may see the heavens flashing
You may hear the cosmos humming
But i promise you, my sister
They're not here, they're not coming
To this garden we were given
And always took for granted
It's like my daddy told me, you just bloom where you're planted.
Now you long to be delivered
From this world of pain and strife
That's a sorry substitution for a spiritual life
(solo)
Well, it's a cold, cold, cold, cold, cold, cold, cold, cold
Post, postmodern world
No place for sentiment, no room for romance
Bring back the duke of earl
They're not here, they're not coming
Not in a million years
Turn your hopes back homeward
Hold your children, dry their tears
You may see the heavens flashing
You may hear the cosmos humming
But i promise you, my brother
They're not here, they're not coming
They're not here, they're not coming
Not in a million years
'til we put away our hatred
And lay aside our fears
You may see the heavens flashing
You may hear the cosmos humming
But i promise you, my brother
They're not here, they're not coming
song performed by by Don Henley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tested Faith
Led to believe
One amoungst them
Was beneath.
For years this perception,
Was fed and conceived.
The followers were blinded
By the one deceiving them to the ledge.
With vows they pledged to honor him...
And he took them to the edge.
They had no wings to fly.
He did not help them...
Or want them to try.
'With me you do not need them! '
They did not know he lied!
The one believed beneath them,
Although shunned and ostracized...
Explored his flights from different heights.
And did this as days went by.
Until he mastered with abilities that grew.
Soaring past those who thought they knew him...
Standing on the edge.
With no understanding where that led them!
They had fears...
No one taught them to release.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Why Look At The Moon
Willows were swaying
The water was rippling
The froggies were singing
Along with the laughing at the bank
We have the moon to thank
For this lovely scene
We might never have seen
If it hadnt have been for the moon
Why, look at that moon
Away up high, seeing everything
That goes by
Why, look at that moon
Why, why, why, look at the moon
Why, why, why, look at the moon
Sitting in the desert
Beneath a lonesome sky
Cool, my oh my, it would be
If it never been above
That fateful little boy
That one who has beheld true love through history
Why must it start?
Why must lovers part?
Why does the cheatin go on?
Why have hearts turned to stone?
Why, look at that moon
Away up high, seeing everything
That goes by
Why, look at that moon
Why, why, why, look at the moon
Why, why, why, look at the moon
Why, look at that moon
Aint it grand!
Why, look at that moon
Helps me understand
Why, look at that moon
Inspirator of many a dream
Why, look at that moon
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Goody Blake and Harry Gill
Oh! what's the matter? what's the matter?
What is't that ails young Harry Gill?
That evermore his teeth they chatter,
Chatter, chatter, chatter still!
Of waistcoats Harry has no lack,
Good duffle grey, and flannel fine;
He has a blanket on his back,
And coats enough to smother nine.
In March, December, and in July,
'Tis all the same with Harry Gill;
The neighbours tell, and tell you truly,
His teeth they chatter, chatter still.
At night, at morning, and at noon,
'Tis all the same with Harry Gill;
Beneath the sun, beneath the moon,
His teeth they chatter, chatter still!
Young Harry was a lusty drover,
And who so stout of limb as he?
His cheeks were red as ruddy clover;
His voice was like the voice of three.
Old Goody Blake was old and poor;
Ill fed she was, and thinly clad;
And any man who passed her door
Might see how poor a hut she had.
All day she spun in her poor dwelling:
And then her three hours' work at night,
Alas! 'twas hardly worth the telling,
It would not pay for candle-light.
Remote from sheltered village-green,
On a hill's northern side she dwelt,
Where from sea-blasts the hawthorns lean,
And hoary dews are slow to melt.
By the same fire to boil their pottage,
Two poor old Dames, as I have known,
Will often live in one small cottage;
But she, poor Woman! housed alone.
'Twas well enough when summer came,
The long, warm, lightsome summer-day,
Then at her door the 'canty' Dame
Would sit, as any linnet, gay.
But when the ice our streams did fetter,
Oh then how her old bones would shake!
You would have said, if you had met her,
'Twas a hard time for Goody Blake.
Her evenings then were dull and dead:
Sad case it was, as you may think,
For very cold to go to bed;
And then for cold not sleep a wink.
O joy for her! whene'er in winter
The winds at night had made a rout;
And scattered many a lusty splinter
And many a rotten bough about.
Yet never had she, well or sick,
As every man who knew her says,
A pile beforehand, turf or stick,
Enough to warm her for three days.
Now, when the frost was past enduring,
And made her poor old bones to ache,
Could any thing be more alluring
Than an old hedge to Goody Blake?
And, now and then, it must be said,
When her old bones were cold and chill,
She left her fire, or left her bed,
To seek the hedge of Harry Gill.
Now Harry he had long suspected
This trespass of old Goody Blake;
And vowed that she should be detected--
That he on her would vengeance take.
And oft from his warm fire he'd go,
And to the fields his road would take;
And there, at night, in frost and snow,
He watched to seize old Goody Blake.
And once, behind a rick of barley,
Thus looking out did Harry stand:
The moon was full and shining clearly,
And crisp with frost the stubble land.
--He hears a noise--he's all awake--
Again?--on tip-toe down the hill
He softly creeps--'tis Goody Blake;
She's at the hedge of Harry Gill!
Right glad was he when he beheld her:
Stick after stick did Goody pull:
He stood behind a bush of elder,
Till she had filled her apron full.
When with her load she turned about,
The by-way back again to take;
He started forward, with a shout,
And sprang upon poor Goody Blake.
And fiercely by the arm he took her,
And by the arm he held her fast,
And fiercely by the arm he shook her,
And cried, "I've caught you then at last!"--
Then Goody, who had nothing said,
Her bundle from her lap let fall;
And, kneeling on the sticks, she prayed
To God that is the judge of all.
She prayed, her withered hand uprearing,
While Harry held her by the arm--
"God! who art never out of hearing,
O may he never more be warm!" 0
The cold, cold moon above her head,
Thus on her knees did Goody pray;
Young Harry heard what she had said:
And icy cold he turned away.
He went complaining all the morrow
That he was cold and very chill:
His face was gloom, his heart was sorrow,
Alas! that day for Harry Gill!
That day he wore a riding-coat,
But not a whit the warmer he:
Another was on Thursday brought,
And ere the Sabbath he had three.
'Twas all in vain, a useless matter,
And blankets were about him pinned;
Yet still his jaws and teeth they clatter;
Like a loose casement in the wind.
And Harry's flesh it fell away;
And all who see him say, 'tis plain,
That, live as long as live he may,
He never will be warm again.
No word to any man he utters,
A-bed or up, to young or old;
But ever to himself he mutters,
"Poor Harry Gill is very cold."
A-bed or up, by night or day;
His teeth they chatter, chatter still.
Now think, ye farmers all, I pray,
Of Goody Blake and Harry Gill!
poem by William Wordsworth
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Come Back To Bed
Still is the life
of your room when you're not in sight
And all of your things
Tell the sweetest storyline
Your tears on these sheets
And your footsteps are down the hall
Tell me what I did
I can't find where the moment went wrong at all
You can be mad in the morning
I'll take back what I said
Just don't leave me alone here
It's cold, baby
Come back to bed, Come back to bed
Come back to bed, Come back to bed
Come on back to bed
What will this fix?
You know you're not a quick forgive
And I wont sleep through this
I survive on the breath you are finished with
You can be mad in the morning
I'll take back what I said
Just dont leave me alone here
It's cold, baby
Come back to bed, Come back to bed
Come back to bed, Come back to bed
You can be mad in the morning
Or the afternoon instead
But don't leave me 98 and 6 degrees of seperation from you, baby
Come back to bed x4
Don't hold your love over my head x5
song performed by by John Mayer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Love Poem
Love is a cold mistress
She can be cruel but kind
Yes, its her I miss
Even when she played with my mind
She brought me joy
She brought me tears
She taught this boy
How to fight his fears
Its always there
Even if you cant see
She always cares
Not just for you, but also for me
Love wont quit
It wont hesitate
Even when you scream 'THATS IT! ! '
Love will forever wait