Margret's Prayer
Widow Margret told her beads
on her husband's creaky porch
over 5 O'clock Coffee each morning.
That black and white photograph
of her and her husband, peered
at her from the lamp stand.
The Welcome mat outside, unworn
and the new green cushion next to her
stared at the maid in the rocker.
The string of soft beads,
let slip from her fingers,
laid down on the shag carpet.
A twitch sprouted above her eye,
below the brown penciled eyebrow;
for the first time Margret listened…
The house's heater hissed and clanked,
bagels popped from the toaster,
her breath seemed to strangle the porch.
As the last steam rose from the mug
dissipating like a ghost at dawn,
Margret still sat rocking.
poem by Jacob Bearer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Sweet William's Ghost
There came a ghost to Margaret's door,
With many a grievous grone,
And ay he tirled at the pin;
But answer made she none.
Is this my father Philip?
Or is't my brother John?
Or is't my true love Willie,
From Scotland new come home?
'Tis not thy father Philip;
Nor yet thy brother John:
But 'tis thy true love Willie,
From Scotland new come home.
O sweet Margret! O dear Margret!
I pray thee speak to mee:
Give me my faith and troth, Margret,
As I gave it to thee.
Thy faith and troth thou'se nevir get,
'Of me shalt nevir win,'
Till that thou come within my bower,
And kiss my cheek and chin.
If I should come within thy bower,
I am no earthly man:
And should I kiss thy rosy lipp,
Thy days will not be lang.
O sweet Margret, O dear Margret,
I pray thee speak to mee:
Give me my faith and troth, Margret,
As I gave it to thee.
Thy faith and troth thou'se nevir get,
'Of me shalt nevir win,'
Till thou take me to yon kirk yard,
And wed me with a ring.
My bones are buried in a kirk yard
Afar beyond the sea,
And it is but my sprite, Margret,
That's speaking now to thee.
She stretched out her lilly-white hand,
As for to do her best:
Hae there your faith and troth, Willie,
God send your soul good rest.
Now she has kilted her robes of green,
A piece below her knee:
And a' the live-lang winter night
The dead corps followed shee.
Is there any room at your head, Willie?
Or any room at your feet?
Or any room at your side, Willie,
Wherein that I may creep?
There's nae room at my head, Margret,
There's nae room at my feet,
There's no room at my side, Margret,
My coffin is made so meet.
Then up and crew the red red cock,
And up then crew the gray:
'Tis time, 'tis time, my dear Margret,
That you were gane away.
No more the ghost to Margret said,
But, with a grievous grone,
Evanish'd in a cloud of mist,
And left her all alone.
O stay, my only true love, stay,
The constant Margret cried:
Wan grew her cheeks, she clos'd her een,
Stretch'd her saft limbs, and died.
poem by Thomas Percy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Clerk Saunders
Whan bells war rung, an mass was sung,
A wat a' man to bed were gone,
Clark Sanders came to Margret's window,
With mony a sad sigh and groan.
"Are ye sleeping, Margret," he says,
"Or are ye waking, presentlie?
Give me my faith and trouthe again,
A wat, trew-love, I gied to thee."
"Your faith and trouth ye's never get,
Nor our trew love shall never twain,
Till ye come with me in my bower,
And kiss me both cheek and chin."
"My mouth it is full cold, Margret,
It has the smell now of the ground;
And if I kiss thy comely mouth,
Thy life-days will not be long.
"Cocks are crowing a merry mid-larf,
I wat the wild fule boded day;
Gie me my faith and trouthe again,
And let me fare me on my way."
"Thy faith and trouth thou shall na get,
Nor our trew love shall never twin,
Till ye tell me what comes of women
Awat that dy's in strong traveling."
"Their beds are made in the heavens high,
Down at the foot of our good Lord's knee,
Well set about wi gilly-flowers,
A wat sweet company for to see.
"O cocks are crowing a merry middlarf,
A wat the wilde foule boded day;
The salms of Heaven will be sung,
And ere now I'le be misst away."
Up she has tain a bright long wand,
And she has straked her trouth thereon;
She has given it him out at the shot-window,
Wi many a sad sigh and heavy groan.
"I thank you, Margret, I thank you, Margret,
And I thank you hartilie;
Gine ever the dead come for the quick,
Be sure, Margret, I'll come again for thee."
It's hose an shoon an gound alane
She clame the wall and followed him,
Untill she came to a green forest,
On this she lost the sight of him.
"Is their any room at your head, Sanders?
Is their any room at your feet?
Or any room at your twa sides?
Whare fain, fain woud I sleep."
"Their is na room at my head, Margret,
Their is na room at my feet;
There is room at my twa sides,
For ladys for to sleep.
"Cold meal is my covering owre,
But an my winding sheet;
My bed it is full low, I say,
Down among the hongerey worms I sleep.
"Cold meal is my covering owre,
But an my winding sheet;
The dew it falls na sooner down
Then ay it is full weet."
Clerk Saunders
...
Whan bells war rung, an mass was sung,
A wat a' man to bed were gone,
Clark Sanders came to Margret's window,
With mony a sad sigh and groan.
"Are ye sleeping, Margret," he says,
"Or are ye waking, presentlie?
Give me my faith and trouthe again,
A wat, trew-love, I gied to thee."
"Your faith and trouth ye's never get,
Nor our trew love shall never twain,
Till ye come with me in my bower,
And kiss me both cheek and chin."
"My mouth it is full cold, Margret,
It has the smell now of the ground;
And if I kiss thy comely mouth,
Thy life-days will not be long.
"Cocks are crowing a merry mid-larf,
I wat the wild fule boded day;
Gie me my faith and trouthe again,
And let me fare me on my way."
"Thy faith and trouth thou shall na get,
Nor our trew love shall never twin,
Till ye tell me what comes of women
Awat that dy's in strong traveling."
"Their beds are made in the heavens high,
Down at the foot of our good Lord's knee,
Well set about wi gilly-flowers,
A wat sweet company for to see.
"O cocks are crowing a merry middlarf,
A wat the wilde foule boded day;
The salms of Heaven will be sung,
And ere now I'le be misst away."
Up she has tain a bright long wand,
And she has straked her trouth thereon;
She has given it him out at the shot-window,
Wi many a sad sigh and heavy groan.
"I thank you, Margret, I thank you, Margret,
And I thank you hartilie;
Gine ever the dead come for the quick,
Be sure, Margret, I'll come again for thee."
It's hose an shoon an gound alane
She clame the wall and followed him,
Untill she came to a green forest,
On this she lost the sight of him.
"Is their any room at your head, Sanders?
Is their any room at your feet?
Or any room at your twa sides?
Whare fain, fain woud I sleep."
"Their is na room at my head, Margret,
Their is na room at my feet;
There is room at my twa sides,
For ladys for to sleep.
"Cold meal is my covering owre,
But an my winding sheet;
My bed it is full low, I say,
Down among the hongerey worms I sleep.
"Cold meal is my covering owre,
But an my winding sheet;
The dew it falls na sooner down
Then ay it is full weet."
poem by Anonymous Americas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Husband
It is true:
My husband
has never
taken out
the garbage
from our little house
in the suburbs.
My husband
has never
taken our children
out for the night
to trick-or-treating
as I sit
on the porch in a witch hat.
My husband
has never
come home from
a long day
to a special meal
I have prepared
just for him.
My husband
has never
told me he loves me
beside a warm fire
on our honeymoon.
But he will.
poem by Erica Francis
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I was very flattered by the sex-kitten thing because I never thought of myself as that.
quote by Ann-Margret
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The critics had an image of me, and they wouldn't accept any other . . . I was a cartoon character. A joke.
quote by Ann-Margret
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Going in Style
Joey King, Ann-Margret, Morgan Freeman, Christopher Lloyd, Michael Caine, Peter Serafinowicz, Matt Dillon, Alan Arkin, Maria Dizzia
from Going in Style (2017)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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She Told Her Beads
She told her beads with down-cast eyes,
Within the ancient chapel dim;
And ever as her fingers slim
Slipt o'er th' insensate ivories,
My rapt soul followed, spaniel-wise.
Ah, many were the beads she wore;
But as she told them o'er and o'er,
They did not number all my sighs.
My heart was filled with unvoiced cries
And prayers and pleadings unexpressed;
But while I burned with Love's unrest,
She told her beads with down-cast eyes.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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2010/07/26 Auric Light
An invisible string to thread my small crystal
beads, even Tiaan helping because I cannot
see to do it myself, it would take me a hundred
years at least to complete one string
I wanted to make many strings to represent my
vision of auric light shining out, but after an epic
struggle I gave up and upended the beads in
crystal glasses to enjoy the pristine shine
Without destroying my eyes, Tiaan commenting
‘After suffering for many years to string beads, I
found the solution, dumping beads everywhere’
and I laughed, Nici only shaking her head
While busy with her bead-making craft - I also love
the effect of beads in sea-shells, resembling coarse
salt but with a new shine, no more threading for me
I cannot see, it felt too much like torture
My new system brings us miniature rainbows with-
out the heartache of threading invisible strings
with translucent beads!
poem by Margaret Alice
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My Porch
It's a beautiful evening to sit outside
On the porch my husband built me
And watch the quiet, and just listen
to the birds sing.
It's so peaceful, no kids around
Just the neighbor mowing his lawn
But tomorrow's Monday and the
kids will be up at the crack of dawn.
Another week will begin
There will be school buses up and down the street
The kid's will come home hungry, as always
Looking for something to eat.
People will be coming home from work
Tired and drug out
They'll have dinner, watch the news
And go to bed early, no doubt.
Everyday will begin the same
Until the week-end's here
Then I will sit out on my porch again
With my husband near.
Dianna Nally
9/11/05
poem by Dianna Nally
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A Husband...
A husband should be
Loyal and honest
A husband should be
Strong and protective
A husband should be
Loving and romantic
A husband should be
Patient and understanding
A husband should know
When enough is enough
A husband should know
When to fight and when to cry
A husband should know
all your goals and dreams
A husband should know
your strengths and well as your weaknesses
A husband needs to be a true man
A husband needs to love you unconditionally
A husband needs to know your heart is forever his
poem by Sarah Holmes
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U.F.O. Sighting
Woke up one morning early
noticed it had been snowing all through the night.
But over in the side yard I'd spotted
a huge circle of brown grass, not white!
I ran and woke up my husband!
to come and see what I just did!
I told him it was made from a U.F.O
and that I was really possitive!
My husband said, 'honey
you must of had to much wine to drink! '
Because that's where the lid of the septics' located
the snow melted from the septic's heat!
Well I'm really not sure he's right you know
I'm still looking for a U.F.O. sighting one day!
And maybe I'll let them take me to their planet
that will show that smarty husband!
Then what will he have to say?
poem by Linda Winchell
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A Baby In The House
I knew that a baby was hid in that house,
Though I saw no cradle and heard no cry;
But the husband was tip-toeing 'round like a mouse,
And the good wife was humming a soft lullaby;
And there was a look on the face of the mother,
That I knew could mean only one thing, and no other.
The mother, I said to myself, for I knew
That the woman before me was certainly that;
And there lay in a corner a tiny cloth shoe,
And I saw on a stand such a wee little hat;
And the beard of the husband said, plain as could be,
'Two fat chubby hands have been tugging at me.'
And he took from his pocket a gay picture-book,
And a dog that could bark, if you pulled on a string;
And the wife laid them up with such a pleased look;
And I said to myself, 'There is no other thing
But a babe that could bring about all this, and so
That one thing is in hiding somewhere, I know.'
I stayed but a moment, and saw nothing more,
And heard not a sound, yet I know I was right;
What else could the shoe mean that lay on the floor,
The book and the toy, and the faces so bright;
And what made the husband as still as a mouse?
I am sure, very sure, there's a babe in that house.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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He Played to the Last String
Beads of sweat rolled, gleaming backs shook and twirled
Logs of fire added, pure smoke rose
In chorus, their voices went in unison, best steps competed
The jingles punctuated, and drums went in frenzy
His fingers danced with the harp's strings that made them wild
Alas, in crescendo, strings gave way one after and after.
Jingles and a string had to make it now, his voice punctuated
Infectious, in chorus they had applauded!
He PLAYED TO THE LAST STRING beamed the headlines.
A role in movie popped, he signed!
poem by Charles Jagongo Ogola
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I have maya for mother in law
I have Maya for mother-in-law,
the world for father-in-law;
three brothers-in-law, like tigers;
and the husband’s thoughts
are full of laughing women;
no god, this man,
And I cannot cross the sister-in-law.
But I will
give this wench the slip
and go cuckold my husband with
Hara, my Lord.
My mind is my maid:
by her kindness, I join
my Lord,
my utterly beautiful Lord
from the mountain peaks,
my lord white as jasmine,
and I will make Him
my good husband
poem by Akka Mahadevi
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Cricket Ballad
Smooth green hills just short of touching the sky
White plastic fences seeming to try and out run the hills
Beautiful beast’s hooves pounding silently on the green as they play
The horse house set low down the hill near the sparkling cricks
Smell of manure and the sweet alfalfa
Drift up the hill to the porch wrapped palace of white
The crickets harmoniously sing their ballad
And the wooden porch seat swings gently in the breeze as if to plead, “Encore.”
poem by Jessica Burger
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Togetherness Is Gone
My wife,
Stop cleaning the house
Please come here
To accompany me
My husband,
The house is dirty
We aren't able to pay the maid
You've already retired
My wife,
Don't cook
It's a holiday
Let us eat outside the home
My husband,
Don't eat outdoors
We need efficient
You've already retired
My wife,
Let's keep me company
Why the rush to sleep
It's still early
My husband,
I have to get up early
To clean the house
And prepare breakfast
My wife,
I have to go this morning
My friends were waiting
Long we don't meet
My husband,
Be careful on the road
Greetings for your friends
But, why not breakfast?
My wife,
You have fallen asleep last night
I see you sleeping soundly all
I don't have the heart to wake you
My husband,
I'm sorry
I don't welcome you home
But, why should sleep on the sofa?
My wife,
I have to go again
I have social activities
With my old friends
My husband,
Don't forget dinner at home
You look very dapper
Although not wear perfume
My wife,
sorry, we were very busy
I had dinner with friends
Happy dinner, dear
My husband,
I woke up too early
But you're not at home
Where are you?
My wife,
I came home at midnight
I have to go early in the morning
I don't have the heart to wake you
My husband,
I just finished washing clothes
I've found the clothes that you wear today
But, why the smell of perfume?
poem by Hasanudin Sofyan
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Fluffy
Fluffy, furry buddy
Chewed his leg on the porch
Whyd you do it fluffy, on the porch?
Good dog fluffy, old friend my pal
Fluffys got his buddy on the porch
Penny, shes my girlie, she sits here with me on the porch
Penny looks so pretty on the porch
Penny takes fluffy for a walk out on the path
Fluffy chases the other doggies on the path
But big sister penny get fluffy back on the porch
So me and fluffy and penny were on the porch
song performed by by Ween
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mayberry
Sometimes it feels like this world is spinning faster
Than it did in the old days
So naturally we have more natural disasters
From the strain of a fast pace
Sunday was the day of rest
Now its one more day for progress
But we can't slow down
Cause more is best
All in the process
But I miss Mayberry
Sittin on the porch drinking ice cold Cherry --- Coke
Where everything was black and white
Pickin on a Six String
People pass by and you call them by their first name
Watching the clouds roll by
bye bye
Sometimes I can hear this whole world stopping
Through the trees as the wind blows
Thats when I climb up here on this mountain
And look through God's window
No I can't fly
I've got to be
To get me high up here
Far from the noise and city streets
My world receives the peace
But I miss Mayberry
Sittin on the porch drinking ice cold Cherry --- Coke
Where everything was black and white
Pickin on a Six String
People pass by and you call them by their first name
Watching the clouds roll by
bye bye
Sometimes I dream I'm driving down an old dark road
Not even listed on the map
I pass a dad and his son carrying a fishing poll
But I always wake up everytime I try to turn back
But I miss Mayberry
Sittin on the porch drinking ice cold Cherry --- Coke
Where everything was black and white
Pickin on a Six String
People pass by and you call them by their first name
Watching the clouds roll by
bye bye
song performed by by Rascal Flatts from Melt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Overheard on a Salmarsh
Nymph, nymph, what are your beads?
Green glass, goblin. Why do you stare at them?
Give them me.
No.
Give them me. Give them me.
No.
Then I will howl all night in the reeds,
Lie in the mud and howl for them.
Goblin, why do you love them so?
They are better than stars or water,
Better than voices of winds that sing,
Better than any man's fair daughter,
Your green glass beads on a silver ring.
Hush, I stole them out of the moon.
Give me your beads, I want them.
No.
I will howl in the deep lagoon
For your green glass beads, I love them so.
Give thme me. Give them.
No.
poem by Harold Monro
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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