Related quotes: FOG HOLDS LIGHTS Fog holds...

Fog Holds Lights

FOG HOLDS LIGHTS

Fog holds lights in soft hands stroking
the bay, floating across waters alive
with flickering rays. The night air whispers

of ancient sand castles and the gleam
of small stars stirring the romance of darkness.
It clings faithfully to the rise and fall

of waves washing in, swinging to
the rhythm of a sea singing love songs.
Fog holds lights in soft hands, clasps love

in tender touches, grasps hope in strong
fingers as it rolls in. Reality
blurs, an impressionist painting

lying just under the murky paint of fog.
Fog holds light in soft hands, embraces
dreams carefully as they swoop

across our sleep like moonbeams prowling
the night sky. It smothers the future and remolds
the past, leaving us in a blurred limbo.

Fog holds light in soft hands wet with tears.
When it is time for it to be gone,
it lifts silently and disappears.

poem by Raynette Eitel
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes

Yours Forever

Here we are in the grays of winter,
Here we are just me and you,
Hold my hand,
Lets face tomorrow,
Tomorrow still holds out its hands to you
This precious time we've only borrowed,
The autumn winds have blown on through,
A quiet thought will tell our story,
Tomorrow still holds out its hands to you
Yes tomorrow still holds out its hands to you
Here some wings,
There yours forever,
And heres some dreams,
That will come true,
Take these tears, to wash away your sorrows,
Tomorrow still holds out its hands to you,
Yes tomorrow still holds out its to you,
Yes tomorrow still holds out its hands to you

song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dear Hands

The touches of her hands are like the fall
Of velvet snowflakes; like the touch of down
The peach just brushes 'gainst the garden wall;
The flossy fondlings of the thistle-wisp
Caught in the crinkle of a leaf of brown
The blighting frost hath turned from green to crisp.

Soft as the falling of the dusk at night,
The touches of her hands, and the delight--
The touches of her hands!
The touches of her hands are like the dew
That falls so softly down no one e'er knew
The touch thereof save lovers like to one
Astray in lights where ranged Endymion.

O rarely soft, the touches of her hands,
As drowsy zephyrs in enchanted lands;
Or pulse of dying fay; or fairy sighs,
Or--in between the midnight and the dawn,
When long unrest and tears and fears are gone--
Sleep, smoothing down the lids of weary eyes.

poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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The Touches Of Her Hand

O rarely soft, the touches of her hands,
As drowsy zephyrs in enchanted lands;
Or pulse of dying fay; or fairy sighs;
Or--in between the midnight and the dawn,
When long unrest and tears and fears are gone--
Sleep, smoothing down the lids of weary eyes.

poem by James Whitcomb Riley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To A Baby.

I.
Two hands that hold the world in fee,
So tender, yet so bold:
Whatever life has now for me,
Two hands that hold.
What magic lies in them enroll'd —
What wondrous alchemy
Transmuting thus life's lead to gold!
Until that thought shall cease to be,
Until my heart is cold,
I'd only clasp (how tenderly!)
Two hands that hold.
II.
Two soft blue eyes whose light has lit
Two hearts, as stars that rise —
Love's lights within the infinite,
Two soft blue eyes.
No fancy may their charm surmise,
But those who have felt it
Breathe as it were in Paradise.
Life's meanings there like shadows flit,
As in a dream's disguise
Two spirits lurked in them — to wit,
Two soft blue eyes.

poem by Robert Crawford
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Single Candle/Death Herself

A single flame lights her face
The face of death
A single candle holds her fears
The fears of death

Her hands clasped anrond their souls
The souls of the dead
She feeds of their screams
The screams of the dead

Her legs lay bellow her
Bellow death
Her black gown over her body
The body of death

Her chest rises and falls with her breath
The breath of death
Her cloak drawn over her long flowing jet hair
The face of death

Her eyes unmoved unfeeling
Do you see it?
Do you see the soul of death?
Do you feel it?

Her skin as white as snow as it fades into darkness
The snow of tears
Her cloths as dark as night that swallows the light
The dark we all shall see

Her eyes close as she feels their souls flow
Flow from the dead
She leaves them there to lay in darkness
She steals from the dead

A single candle lights their faces filled with her
Filled with death
They fall into the darkness of her eyes, of her heart
The darkness of death

A single candle shall stay to light their way
Their way through the dark
A single candle holds their past
The pain and trials

A single candle lights her face
The face of death
A single candle holds her fears
The fears of death herself

A single candle

poem by Bethany Maxwell
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A Poet Holds A Poem In His Hands

The Poet holds a poem in his hands-
He savors it-
He looks down on it
with love in his eyes-

The Poet holds a poem in his hands-
In a world where so many have nothing in their hands,
A Poet holds a poem in his hands-
and thanks God for it.

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Christian

Of your soft love in the soft rain,
Of your soft romantic hands in the long train,
For i am not dead but alive on this love.

I live in Serbia and i like what you've been doing for me,
And i will love you always till the sun is out of light!
For, this love is the way to my country.

I will sing for you with a soft voice when you are with me,
And i will be around always for your love;
For your soft touch on me is like the way to my home.

I have to find myself on this love,
I have to lead you on this tracks to my home;
For your romantic hands need my naked body.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Over the Banisters

Over the banisters bends a face,
Daringly sweet and beguiling.
Somebody stands in careless grace,
And watches the picture, smiling.

The light burns dim in the hall below,
Nobody sees her standing,
Saying good-night again, soft and slow,
Half way up to the landing.

Nobody only the eyes of brown,
Tender and full of meaning,
That smile on the fairest face in town,
Over the banisters leaning.

Tired and sleepy, with drooping head,
I wonder why she lingers;
Now, when the good-nights all are said,
Why somebody holds her fingers.

He holds her fingers and draws her down,
Suddenly growing bolder,
Till the loose hair drops its masses brown,
Like a mantle over his shoulder.

Over the banisters soft hands, fair,
Brush his cheeks like a feather,
And bright brown tresses and dusky hair,
Meet and mingle together.

There's a question asked, there's a swift caress,
She has flown like a bird from the hallway,
But over the banisters drops a "yes,"
That shall brighten the world for him alway.

poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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A Lifetime In Your Hands

Baby.

On the floor they lay
Not a wrinkle or crease to save
Little hands do wave
Wanting to play

Young child.

In dirt and muck
Hands still mild and soft
More by youth than luck
Plays the young child hands aloft

Teenager.

Learning in school
For peers appear cool
In paint and ink
Their hands do stink

Young adult.

Now working hard
Sweat and toil
midday sun, mad
Hands now a trowel

Middle age.

Hands hard and worn
Some cut, sworn
Holds a child
Strong and mild

50 - 60

Wrinkles appear
Fingers and thumbs
On the rear
Liver spots like speckled crumbs

Old age (ish)

Wrinkled and lined
Courted and dined
Etched in their story of life
Sprinkled with some strife

End of time.

Transparent and Boney
Face hard set, maybe lonely
Hands wave a sigh
Soon to say goodbye

poem by Robert Green
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I Dreamed.... (Hands)

i dreamed last night...
and all i could see were hands.
sometimes hard and calloused,
sometimes soft and feminine.
skilled hands, laborer's hands,
loving hands, nurturing hands....
fingers digging in the dirt,
fingers holding a pen.
fingers playing a piano,
fingers unbuttoning blouses.

hands extended, hands gripping the rope,
hands holding the shovel,
hands covered with resin.
hands folded in prayer,
hands balled into fists.
hands stuffed in empty pockets.
hands that define both history,
and destiny!

hands scarred and bruised,
hands covered with age spots.
hands that speak many languages.
hands that know mistakes, and failures.
hands that built fires,
hands that put fires out!
hands that wiped away tears,
that picked up trash,
and revealed souls....

whose hands?
my hands, your hands?
god's hands?
does it really matter?
hands engaged and involved,
in the very act of living!

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Every Now And Then

Every now and then when the lights are low
Every now and then when the wind does blow
Every now and then, I think of you
Every now and then when a girl walks by
And holds her head like you held yours high
Every now and then, I think of you
And once in awhile when the sun sets right
And the full moon glides like a diamond in the night
Every now and then, I think of you
And I remember you and I
In a soft golden light
Nothing like here and tonight
I won't hear about anyone's life but our own
And all that I have is hope
Baby you never know
Every now and then when a friend says, "Hi"
And asks about us I just wanna die
Every now and then, I think of you
I wanna say everythings just fine
But only a fool could believe that line
Still every now and then, I think of you

song performed by by Reo Speedwagon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Every Now & Then

Every now and then when the lights are low
Every now and then when the wind does blow
Every now and then, I think of you
Every now and then when a girl walks by
And holds her head like you held yours high
Every now and then, I think of you
And once in awhile when the sun sets right
And the full moon glides like a diamond in the night
Every now and then, I think of you
Bridge
And I remember you and i
In a soft golden light
Nothing like here and tonight
I wont hear about anyones life but our own
And all that I have is hope
Baby you never know
Every now and then when a friend says, hi
And asks about us I just wanna die
Every now and then, I think of you
I wanna say everythings just fine
But only a fool could believe that line
Still every now and then, I think of you

song performed by by Reo Speedwagon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Know Who Holds Tomorrow

I Don't Know About Tomorrow
I Just Live From Day To Day
And I Don't Borrow From The Sunshine
'cause The Skies Might Turn To Grey

And I Don't Worry About The Future
'cause I Know What Jesus Said
And Today I'm Gonna Walk Right Beside Him
'cause He's The One Who Knows What Is Ahead

There Are Things About Tomorrow
That I Don't Seem To Understand
But I Know Who Holds Tomorrow
And I Know Who Holds My Hand

And Each Step Is Getting Brighter
As The Golden Stairs I Climb
And Every Burden Is Getting Lighter
And All The Clouds Their Silver Line

And I'll Bet The Sun It's Always Shining
And No Tears Will Ever Dim The Eye
And The Ending Of The Rainbow
Where The Mountains They Touch The Sky

There Are Many Things About Tomorrow
I Don't Seem To Understand
But I Know Who Holds Tomorrow
And I Know Who Holds My Hand
Yes I Know Who Holds My Hand

song performed by by LeAnn Rimes from You Light Up My Life
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Angel or Devil

My devil whispers,
Into my ear,
'Let the fire consume you, '
'Don't worry my dear, '

My devil smiles warmly,
His face is soft and kind,
He looks at me so loving,
As if he tells no lies,

My angel says,
'Don't listen to him, '
'The path he holds, '
'Is full of sin, '

My angel smiles softly,
He holds his arms out wide,
The look he gives is caring,
So much it makes me cry,

Should I choose the devil,
And be warmed by the flames,
Should I choose the angel,
An feel the light again,

The angel and the devil,
Which one do I choose,
The darkness or the light,
What would you decide to do?

poem by Kelly Aragon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dunne Studying.

Dunne watches her mistress sleep.
There is the flickering of the eyelids
As if in dream. She gets out of bed
And with soft tread walks to her
Mistress’s bed side and looks down.
She holds her breath. She takes in
Each aspect of the face and neck
And how the hair is spread upon
The pillow. She wants to lean down
And kiss the lips, put flesh to flesh.
She hovers like some hawk waiting
To fly down and take her fine prey.
She breathes out slowly. She watches
The rise and fall of her mistress’s breast.
She moves out a hand to lay it there
But does not touch. She imagines so.
Imagines also climbing into the bed
And snuggling up close and kissing
The nape of neck. Her hand lingers
Over the breasts. Her eyes greedily
Study the soft cheek. She breathes
In deep. Her heart pounds within her
Breast. So near so near. She imagines
Lying within those arms and feeling
The hands caress her back. Her mistress
Stirs and she moves away. Walks back
To her own bed to await the light of day.

poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Jerome

Each day brings its toad, each night its dragon.
Der heilige Hieronymus--his lion is at the zoo--
Listens, listens. All the long, soft, summer day
Dreams affright his couch, the deep boils like a pot.
As the sun sets, the last patient rises,
Says to him, Father, trembles, turns away.

Often, to the lion, the saint said, Son.
To the man the saint says--but the man is gone.
Under a plaque of Gradiva, at gloaming.
The old man boils an egg. When he has eaten
He listens a while. The patients have not stopped.
At midnight, he lies down where his patients lay.

All night the old man whispers to the night.
It listens evenly. The great armored paws
Of its forelegs put together in reflection.
It thinks: Where Ego was, there Id shall be.
The world wrestles with it and is changed into it
And after a long time changes it. The dragon

Listens as the old man says, at dawn: I see
--There is an old man, naked in a desert, by a cliff.
He has set out his books, his hat, his ink, his shears
Among scorpions, toads, the wild beasts of the desert.
I lie beside him--I am a lion.
He kneels listening. He holds in his left hand

The stone with which he beats his breat, and holds
In his right hand, the pen with which he puts
Into his book, the words of the angel:
The angel up into whose face he looks.
But the angel does not speak. He looks into the face
Of the night, and the night says--but the night is gone.

He has slept. . . . At morning, when man's flesh is young
And man's soul thankful for it knows not what,
The air is washed, and smells of boiling coffee,
And the sun lights it. The old man walks placidly
To the grocer's; walks on, under leaves, in light,
To a lynx, a leopard--he has come;

The man holds out a lump of liver to the lion,
And the lion licks the man's hand with his tongue.

poem by Randall Jarrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There is a light

There is a light
That lights the night
When it’s too dark to see
It’s by my bed
For me and my Ted
My teddy bear and me
We like the light
That lights the night
On that we both agree
It feels soft and safe
Warm and nice
A lovely thing to see
When we awake
The light no longer do we need
Because it’s too light for the light
That lights the night
But the light,
is still needed indeed.

poem by Pamela lutwyche
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hold Me Up

If I'm trying to be hidden
You still see me
If my faith has been turned into fear
If my whole world is crashing
It won't matter
I can keep it together if you're here
'Cause you are the one
Who holds me up when I fall down
You are the one who I can trust
You you are the one
Who holds me up when I fall down
You are the one who I can trust
If my dreams start to crumble
You won't worry
If my heart starts to sink into fear
If my whole plan just shatters
It won't matter
I can keep it together if you're here
'Cause you are the one
Who holds me up when I come down
You are the one who I can trust
You you are the one
Who holds me up when I fall down
You are the one who I can trust
'Cause you are the one
Who holds me up when I come down
You are the one who I can trust
You are the one who I can trust
You are the one who I can trust
Copyright 2003 Elektra Entertainment Group

song performed by by Year Of The Rabbit
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Lover

with his fingers so soft they touch my face lightly
and with his arms so strong he holds me tight
as he kisses my lips i feel the love he has inside
he shows it and says it when he can
the look in his eyes gives me quite a surprise
just befor he says i love you
you can see it on him that he loves me
hes so beautiful yet so quiet most of the time
hes soft hearted to me and very sweet
hes always there
with his beauty bringing hope to my world
an the thoughts of wanting to wake up
and the thoughts of wanting to live
every time i hear his words
the desire in them is clear
the craving for him unbearable most of the time
yet suttle and quiet like him
hes the only one who has my heart
and the power to break them so easily
i long to feel him close and hear his voice so sweet
his beauty could never be taken nore tainted to me
he is the lover my sweet man
the one who catches me an helps me land
he helps me stand up and holds my hand
he never lets me down nore lets me fall
for him i am thankfull hes my lover moste of all

poem by Sandy Vanity
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Would You Like

Tell me you name, tell me your sign.
Please tell me that my mind is right.
I just want to take you to my home.
Where we can talk by a fire all alone.
There's just one thing that I need to know.
Could you ever be there when I woke up,
Or will you be just another and be gone?

Should I buy you a dozen roses?
Should I write you a love poem,
Of how my heart can't stop beating for you?
Should I take you to a lakeside with a romantic dinner?
Would you like candle light flickering in front of us?
Would you like the lovely words that could roll off my tongue?
Would you like me to express how much you mean to me?
Would you like that soft romantic music in the background?

I take one look at you and my heart can't stop smiling.
It begins to display on the outside and my lips curl up.
Looking at you from across the void I can see my life with you.
You take a glance at me and can't help but notice to.
I walk around the corner and fade out of your sight.
I love playing this game.

You chase me around the corner at the end of the aisle.
And we both meet each other eye to eye.
My hands behind my back.
Can you guess what I've got in mind.
Oh I think you'll be suprized.
You look at me and begin to smile.

I see the moonlight fall across your face as you sleep.
I take one look at you as my fingers gently stroke your cheek.
You breathe in and breathe out and stir awake.
Looking up at me and smiling all the while.
I bend down and kiss you ever so slowly.

My lips want to take in every taste it can.
My fingers what to rub your smooth skin.
My eyes want to see all your love dep inside.
And no matter how hard I try.
My mind can't comprehend the beauty within.

If I bought you a dozen roses would you fall in love?
If I wrote you that special love poem would you kiss me tight?
If I took you to a lakeside of of a romantic dinner would you stay the night?
Would you like the candle's flickering lights?
Would you like the expressions of my words rolling off my tongue?
Would you come be with me even though the night's young?
Would you like the kiss that takes the breath away deep within your lungs?

Would you want to be with me through the rest of your life?
Would you want to be with my heart through the beating might?
Would you want to grab my hands and love me through all the bad time?
Would you want to hug me in the anger of emotions and try to fight?
Would you stand within my heart and dance in the spotlight?
Would you like to be with me through the whole night?

poem by Josh Burnett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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