Believe me not!
Recite a pleasant sonnet,
Present a stunning haiku
and write a moving ode
and sing a brilliant ballad.
There are epics created
To depict you as savior
The goddess of peace,
Prosperity and love.
And even compare you
To summer's day
To soothing twilight
To glowing full moon
To morning sunshine.
And the list grows
To the tasty fruits
And fragrant flowers
To springs fortune
To rhythmic rain
To mighty green
And curly hair on
the golden chair!
Mind you, like everyone
I too say my pal
You are my love
You are my life
You are my destiny
You are my lord
You are my world
You are my way
You are my dawn
And you are my dusk
But,
Please for god's sake,
Don't be pleased and be crushed
be careful my dear
Believe me not!
It's far from the truth
as you are still
A burning candle,
A frying fish on pan
and a hunted hare on bonfire
You are feast at noon
And a victim at night
Believe me not!
Believe me not!
poem by Chandrashekar A Posy Poet
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Related quotes
Write me a Sonnet
Write me a sonnet with love and beauty
Beyond compare
Write me a sonnetof warnth and solace
And comfort O' so rare
Pen your lines of freedom and peace and
Tell of the wind and rain
Speak of dreams both failed and real
Tell of things never the same
Relate of hush and solitude and the
Stillness of the night
Voice the morning mist and sit in harmony
With the early light
Recite the human frailities with a deep
And searching mind
Ask the Lord's forgiveness perhaps he
Will be kind
State the sorrow pain and grief and all
The sadness in our role
When all is said and done perhaps God
Will embrace our soul
Jim Richardson
poem by Jim Richardson
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I Am Happy Now
She came to me at last
and I am happy now
I bask in afterglow of love
and I am happy now.
She came to me in night
in magic of a starlit night
full moon shining bright
an enchanting full moon night.
Wearing a sexy, little summer dress
perfumed, bright eyed, seductive now
looking, vibrant stunning; enticing temptress,
allured, bewitched, beguiled; I am happy now.
She wore a sexy, little summer dress
showing off curves, of exposed naked flesh
and perfume, of anticipating; sexual suspense
and I am happy now, I am happy now in flesh.
The memory of this sensual spicy night
shines radiant clear and brilliant bright,
memory of her intoxicating boundless love
shines brighter, than all burning stars above.
In summer love springs water that flows
from a sweet secret mountain stream,
from a hidden cliff in surrounding rocks
where I have, pleasantly swimming been.
I love the fair forest that grows
near this secret mountain stream,
with these sweet memories dreams
I am happy, contemplating beauty seen.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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In June In Old Liscreagh
In a lush damp meadow in Liscreagh
In a rushy clump the brown hare lay
From predators well hid away
He doze and sleep for most of the day.
And at twilight he ventures out
For to graze in the pasture fields about
And under the starry cloak of night
He eats his fill in peace and quiet.
It's early Summer in Liscreagh
And badger and her cubs in the twilight gray
Through fields and meadows amble slow
And dig for grubs and earth worms by hedgerow.
And after early morning showers
The old fields in their Summer flowers
In the noon sunshine look fresh and green
And Nature at her best is seen.
And meadows mown for silage and hay
Scent sweetly in June in old Liscreagh
And dark winged swallows in the sky
All day long chirping as they fly.
And butterflies as white as snow
From tree to hedge flit to and fro
And in leafy grove the chaffinch sing
In his own territory he's king.
From Coolikerane bog across the way
The curlew's flute heard in Liscreagh
And robin pipes his lively tune
In Summer's early days in June.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Bonfire
I cant budge baby I cant move without your
Love to guide me
I dont know honey thats the truth what laid
You down beside me,
Heat me with your love oh, your lips were meant
For mine
Nobody else can bake me like a, no no no, like a-
Bonfire, your love is like a bonfire burning deep
Within me
Now some folks said its no good to smoke in bed
Umm, but I just turn off my ears and I jump into
The fire again
I feel so weak, yea, I cant sleep without you there
To hold me
Promise me you wont ever leave or I would die
So coldly,
Kiss me with your eyes, please dont let it rain
Dont kick no dust on my-
Bonfire, your love is like a bonfire burning deep
Within me
Now it just grows, no matter where the wind blows
Yeah but since you touched me I cant hide it
Ive been so delighted with you
Yeah, heat me with your love, ah ah
You opened up my heart, I just cant live
Without you,
Oh, I just couldnt live another day, your my-
Bonfire, your love is like a bonfire burning deep
Within me
Now some folks said its no good to smoke in bed
Uh, huh
But I just take off my clothes and I jump into
The fire again.
song performed by by Cat Stevens
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Barefoot Days
In the morning, very early,
That's the time I love to go
Barefoot where the fern grows curly
And grass is cool between each toe,
On a summer morning-O!
On a summer morning!
That is when the birds go by
Up the sunny slopes of air,
And each rose has a butterfly
Or a golden bee to wear;
And I am glad in every toe
Such a summer morning-O!
Such a summer morning!
poem by Rachel Field
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A Sweet Fairy
A fairy sweet and a fairy bright
Comes to us and bring us delight
And shows us the way to heaven above
Where God's blessings and God's love
Is prewsent and is ready to be bestowed
And all prepared and saved to be towed
By sinful and weak human beings
Who are all very selfish and mean
Oh God Oh my dear Lord
Forgive us please even our odds
And God has created all these meadows
Where we can sit under their shadows
And watch bright sun at dusk and dawn
And see night appearing and disappearing at dawn
Oh God Oh our precious Lord
Forgive us and please even our odd
And God is the one who sends us rain
And the bright sunshine and with it fain
And beautiful butterflies who brings for all
A message of hope in our distress and fall
Oh God Oh my dear Lord
Forgive us and please even our odds.
poem by Seema Chowdhury
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Speechless Princess and a hitch-hiker
Hey! My strong ebony
Though you are black,
In the pitch darkness
I can see your beauty.
When you smile
It’s like a crescent moon
In this haunted sky.
Does your big headed father will allow me to take your hand?
If you are willing to live in my hermitage
Then I can forward all my credentials.
Though we speak a different tongue
Hope it’s not an obstacle for our love?
Oh! It’s very tiresome effort
And your silence is an annoy to me.
My beloved black tulip
Could you please answer me?
“Am I ugly? ”
The soil is not tasty my dear
But the tree of love grows there
And bloom fragrant flowers
Which produce sweet fruits?
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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To Know The Creator
I’m blessed to know the Mighty Creator, Jesus Christ, Lord and Savior,
The One Who knitted me in the womb, provides for us an eternal room,
In His Father’s mansion above, provided solely by His Grace and Love,
Love poured out by God at Calvary, so that sinners can live for eternity.
The One who died for all of my sin, in my present life now dwells within,
As my Blessed Savior and Friend, guiding me in my life, at every bend,
It’s such a blessing to be assured, not by men but by my Blessed Lord,
And that He will be with me to the end, as my Lord my guide and friend.
When troubles do come, I understand, that all my times are in His hand,
The mighty hand of The Eternal God, as I journey upon this earthly sod,
On a journey that was marked out by, my Lord God, who reigns on high.
This present journey with its destiny, which ends not here but in Eternity.
It is for sure a comfort here to know, that God is with me, wherever I go,
With Christ’s Spirit dwelling inside, wherever I journey, Christ shall abide,
With me daily as I live out my life, for my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ,
Right by my side, from place to place, as God guides me by His Grace.
The very Lord God, Who created me, intended that I would live eternally,
And since my sin had separated us, God had sent for me, Christ Jesus,
Who became for me God’s sacrifice, so that I could enter into Paradise,
So I could walk with Him forevermore, as I enter through Heaven’s Door.
(Copyright ©02/2011)
Hymn 74
The church the garden of Christ.
SS 4:12-15; 5:1.
We are a garden walled around,
Chosen and made peculiar ground;
A little spot enclosed by grace
Out of the world's wide wilderness.
Like trees of myrrh and spice we stand,
Planted by God the Father's hand;
And all his springs in Zion flow,
To make the young plantation grow.
Awake, O, heav'nly wind! and come,
Blow on this garden of perfume;
Spirit divine! descend and breathe
A gracious gale on plants beneath.
Make our best spices flow abroad,
To entertain our Savior God
And faith, and love, and joy appear,
And every grace be active here.
[Let my Beloved come and taste
His pleasant fruits at his own feast:
"I come, my spouse, I come!" he cries,
With love and pleasure in his eyes.
Our Lord into his garden comes,
Well pleased to smell our poor perfumes,
And calls us to a feast divine,
Sweeter than honey, milk, or wine.
"Eat of the tree of life, my friends,
The blessings that my Father sends;
Your taste shall all my dainties prove,
And drink abundance of my love:"
Jesus, we will frequent thy board,
And sing the bounties of our Lord;
But the rich food on which we live
Demands more praise than tongues can give.]
poem by Isaac Watts
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Son Of The Moon
Son of the moon
You are brilliant
You are bright
We wanted so much to apologize because we didn’t know you that Well before
Son of the moon
Yes we are both guilty of that
Son of the moon
We had been more occupied with ourselves
Son of the moon
We think that it was so silly and selfish
Only now we realize that
Son of the moon
You are a friend of the sky
The sky would be lost without you
We would be lost without you also
Son of the moon
We know the real you
Son of the moon
We know this innocent world that it is only in our minds
In reality it is not an innocent world
It is an ugly picture that we all paint
And of course it will always remain in our minds
Son of the moon
Dear Lord you know the son of the moon
You created it also
Lets embrace
The son of the moon
Son of the moon
If we will ever find love we hope it will last forever
Son of the moon
We are the warriors of the earth
We fight for freedom
We fight for love
We fight for peace
We fight for what we believe in
Son of the moon
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Candle At Twilight
Candle at twilight, on the grave
when ghosts on the wind, are sing
She sits on the tomb playing a violin
all brethren who gather are not heathen
Elizabeth the death
is the eternity of quest
Candle at twilight, in the heart of the night
this be the ballad of folk in ire
in the Hamlet, burn the bonfire
consecrated in the sear of King Lear
Witch on the dark side of the moon
this path I trudge along
and regal tall the omen will loom
Satan the possession is thy doom
these are all graves here eternal
each one is none of a mortal affair
far on the old hill
is Edward of the dead mill
eerie the cross of God! aghast
in the early morning mist
I saw her standing in a haze
through my broken tear gaze
She smiled like a fourteen year old
putting feathers in her cap, with a boy untold
old habits die hard, I said
She turned to a cold snob for a moment
I made my way again, under the same old moon
The evil witch in the loom
This room is a King size dormitory
King Arthur's cabin
on top of the world
poem by Gagan Ahuja
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The Dawn
All the wild waves rock'd in shadow,
And the world was dim and grey,
Dark and silent, hush'd and breathless,
Waiting calmly for the day.
And the golden light came stealing
O'er the mountain-tops at last—
Flooding vale and wood and upland,—
It was morning—night was past.
There they lay—the silvery waters,
Fruitful forests, glade and lawn,—
All in beauty, new-created
By the angel of the dawn.
* * * * *
So my spirit slept in twilight;—
All was quiet, grey, and still,
Till the dawn of Love came stealing,
Over Hope's snow-crested hill.
Then the dim world woke in glory,
And the iris-dyes grew bright
On the waves and woods and valleys,
In a morning flood of light.
Ah! the vineyards and the gardens!—
Ah! the treasures, rich and rare,
Full of endless life and beauty,
Which that dawn created there!
poem by Ada Cambridge
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Wife to Be (Petrarchan Sonnet)
I stroll along a fragrant country lane
With honeysuckle perfume on the air -
And feathered crooner's warble to revere -
Then cross a golden sea of flowing grain
In empathy - it seems to sense my pain
Of knowing all was done with my affair -
Her empty meaning now the solitaire
She cast away - betrothment all in vain.
But oceans team with many fish to catch
So I must up and hoist another sail
And seek the one that really waits for me,
For soon auspicious breezes will prevail
In guiding forth to find a truer match:
The one to take my hand as wife to be.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Aint No Sun Since Youve Been Gone
(sylvia moy / norman whitfield / cornelius grant)
Into my life
You brought a glowing love
Like a ray of sunshine
From up above
One day out of a clear blue sky
You darkened my life with your words goodbye
Thats the day you left me for a stranger
Dont you know that when you left my life
Took on a change-a?
Now Im telling you it
Aint no sun since youve been gone
Theres a big black cloud hanging over my head
Cloud of loneliness I feel like Im dead
Aint no flowers blooming round here for sure
Since you chose to love me no more
I guess you know you took my sunshine away from me baby, boy
You took the life from my world
Crushed my dreams
And I dont mean maybe, baby, baby
And it aint no sun since youve been gone
Oh, my future, my future
Was as bright as the sun, yes it was
I aint got no future since youve been gone
I guess you know you took my sunshine away from me baby, yes you did
You took the life from my world
Crushed my dreams
And I dont mean maybe, baby, baby
It seems like night in the middle of the day
Everything around me is faded and grey
Cold are the days
Dark creeps the night
Never bringing you back into my life
It aint no sun since youve been gone
You took my sunshine away, yeah ooh, ooh, ooh
You took my sunshine away, yes you did, ooh, ooh, ooh
You took my sunshine away, yeah, ooh, ooh, ooh
You took my sunshine away, oh
song performed by by Dusty Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Muse And The Poet
The Muse said, Let us sing a little song
Wherein no hint of wrong,
No echo of the great world need, or pain,
Shall mar the strain.
Lock fast the swinging portal of thy heart;
Keep sympathy apart.
Sing of the sunset, of the dawn, the sea;
Of any thing or nothing, so there be
No purpose to thy art.
Yea, let us make, art for Art's sake.
And sing no more unto the hearts of men,
But for the critic's pen.
With songs that are but words, sweet sounding words,
Like joyous jargon of the birds.
Tune now thy lyre, O Poet, and sing on.
Sing of
THE DAWN
The Virgin Night, all languorous with dreams
Of her belovèd Darkness, rose in fear,
Feeling the presence of another near.
Outside her curtained casement shone the gleams
Of burning orbs; and modestly she hid
Her brow and bosom with her dusky hair.
When lo! the bold intruder lurking there
Leaped through the fragile lattice, all unbid,
And half unveiled her. Then the swooning Night
Fell pale and dead, while yet her soul was white
Before that lawless Ravisher, the Light.
The Muse said, Poet, nay; thou hast not caught
My meaning. For there lurks a thought
Back of thy song.
In art, all thought is wrong.
Re-string thy lyre; and let the echoes bound
To nothing but sweet sound.
Strike now the chords
And sing of
WORDS
One day sweet Ladye Language gave to me
A little golden key.
I sat me down beside her jewel box
And turned its locks.
And oh, the wealth that lay there in my sight.
Great solitaires of words, so bright, so bright;
Words that no use can commonize; like God,
And Truth, and Love; and words of sapphire blue;
And amber words; with sunshine dripping through;
And words of that strange hue
A pearl reveals upon a wanton's hand.
Again the Muse:
Thou dost not understand;
A thought within thy song is lingering yet.
Sing but of words; all else forget, forget.
Nor let thy words convey one thought to men.
Try once again.
Down through the dusk and dew there fell a word;
Down through the dew and dusk.
And all the garments of the air it stirred
Smelled sweet as musk;
And all the little waves of air it kissed
Turned gold and amethyst.
There in the dew and dusk a heart it found;
There in the dusk and dew
The sodden silence changed to fragrant sound;
And all the world seemed new.
Upon the path that little word had trod,
There shone the smile of God.
The Muse said, Drop thy lyre.
I tire, I tire.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Well Sing In The Sunshine
Well sing in the sunshine
Well laugh every day
Well sing in the sunshine
And Ill be on my way
I will never love you
The cost of loves too dear
But though Ill never love you
Ill live with you one year
And we will sing in the sunshine
Well laugh every day
Well sing in the sunshine
And Ill be on my way
Ill sing to you each morning
Ill kiss you every night
But darlin, dont cling to me
Ill soon be out of sight
But we can sing in the sunshine
Well laugh every day
Well sing in the sunshine
And Ill be on my way
My daddy he once told me
Hey, dont you love you any man
Just take what they can give you
And give but what you can
And you can sing in the sunshine
Well laugh every day
Well sing in the sunshine
And Ill be on my way
And when our year has ended
And I have gone away
Ill often speak about you
And this is what Ill say
You know we sang in the sunshine
We laughed every day
We sang in the sunshine
Then I went on my way
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Sunshine after The Rain
The sunshine after the rain
The grey darkness is gone
The sun back mighty in glory
crowned with golden rays
Sending love and warmth
to inhabitants of the world
Nature beauty is revealed
in remarkable way
the rain water drops lingering
kissing the roses,
the flowers and lilies
spreading over the fields
the pastures sparkling green
the awesome trees
the skies painted in crystal blue
the white shades of clouds
slowly passing
All bringing joy
nourishing our soul
The sunshine
The sunshine after the rain
poem by Sherif Monem
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For Love Alone
Occupy my whole life with the one thought and the one desire of love, that I may love not for the sake of merit, not for the sake of perfection, not for the sake of virtue, not for the sake of sanctity but for love alone. Thomas Merton, Seeds of Contemplation.
radiant vision
brilliant interlude
raging clouds sundered,
sun-split storm;
soft rain falls
through winter-bare trees,
through fields of
feral flowers,
God's world
set afire
for love alone
poem by Steven Federle
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Platonic
I knew it the first of the summer,
I knew it the same at the end,
That you and your love were plighted,
But couldn’t you be my friend?
Couldn’t we sit in the twilight,
Couldn’t we walk on the shore
With only a pleasant friendship
To bind us, and nothing more?
There was not a word of folly
Spoken between us two,
Though we lingered oft in the garden
Till the roses were wet with dew.
We touched on a thousand subjects –
The moon and the worlds above, -
And our talk was tinctured with science,
And everything else, save love.
A wholly Platonic friendship
You said I had proven to you
Could bind a man and a woman
The whole long season through,
With never a thought of flirting,
Though both were in their youth,
What would you have said, my lady,
If you had known the truth!
What would you have done, I wonder,
Had I gone on my knees to you
And told you my passionate story,
There in the dusk and the dew?
My burning, burdensome story,
Hidden and hushed so long –
My story of hopeless loving –
Say, would you have thought it wrong?
But I fought with my heart and conquered,
I hid my wound from sight;
You were going away in the morning,
And I said a calm goodnight.
But now when I sit in the twilight,
Or when I walk by the sea
That friendship, quite Platonic,
Comes surging over me.
And a passionate longing fills me
For the roses, the dusk, the dew;
For the beautiful summer vanished,
For the moonlight walks – and you.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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A Noon Song
There are songs for the morning and songs for the night,
For sunrise and sunset, the stars and the moon;
But who will give praise to the fulness of light,
And sing us a song of the glory of noon?
Oh, the high noon, the clear noon,
The noon with golden crest;
When the blue sky burns, and the great sun turns
With his face to the way of the west!
How swiftly he rose in the dawn of his strength;
How slowly he crept as the morning wore by;
Ah, steep was the climbing that led him at length
To the height of his throne in the wide summer sky.
Oh, the long toil, the slow toil,
The toil that may not rest,
Till the sun looks down from his journey's crown,
To the wonderful way of the west!
Then a quietness falls over meadow and hill,
The wings of the wind in the forest are furled,
The river runs softly, the birds are all still,
The workers are resting all over the world.
Oh, the good hour, the kind hour,
The hour that calms the breast!
Little inn half-way on the road of the day,
Where it follows the turn to the west!
There's a plentiful feast in the maple-tree shade,
The lilt of a song to an old-fashioned tune,
The talk of a friend, or the kiss of a maid,
To sweeten the cup that we drink to the noon.
Oh, the deep noon, the full noon,
Of all the day the best!
When the blue sky burns, and the great sun turns
To his home by the way of the west.
poem by Henry Van Dyke
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