Table For Two
Beautiful evening, red sky at night –
A warm greeting for a perfect venue.
Silver spoons and candles glint with delight,
As our fingers danced around the menu.
Perfect, utterly sublime is the food.
Lots to admire about the decor –
A bottle of red wine sweetens the mood,
While sunset’s leaving through an open door.
Glowing candles against plum-coloured walls.
Soft notes float from a mesmeric guitar –
As dusk wanders from view when moonlight calls,
Silver buttons on blue velvet – a star.
Timeless dinner under the cherry moon –
The guitar sweetly plays another tune.
(A poem from the book 'Mr Blue Sky' by O. Phillips © 2009)
poem by Orville Phillips
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Like An Old Fashioned Waltz
(sandy denny)
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Primrose is pale
On the velvet green hue
Warm summer days
Like cool water falls
Like music we hear
Those things well always hold dear
Like an old fashioned waltz
When the moonlight shines down
On the hollywood world
And the heroine waits
For her love to return
And the violins play
>from behind garden walls
Oh how I love to remain
With the silver refrain
Of an old fashioned waltz
And they dance round the floor
And theres no one else there
In the world is no worry
And is never a care
By the perfect moon
As the nightingale calls
With only the moon
And the nostalgic tune
Of an old fashioned waltz
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Louisa & Her Blue Guitar
A naked thigh has much to talk about
If its just approached right.
Just like girls who talk too much
In crowded barrooms like last night.
Just like our lisa, aint that right?
Conversations overheard,
Sacred silver dollars become petty change.
Suddenly red lipstick finds itself
On the wrong side of her age.
Just like our lisa, aint that strange?
And washed nylons bleed dirty tears
From a strangers window pane.
The red light cannot change the mood
Of the blue guitar thats played. blue guitar.
The sound of painted nails are playing.
Hi-ho silver, add another glass.
Good intentions can beat up sick attention
And louisa finishes last.
Oh goody, aint life a blast.
Hollow glance.
May I have this dance?
The faces been worn and thin
cause shes been wishing on too many stars again.
Washed nylons bleed dirty tears
>from a strangers window pane.
The red light cannot change the mood
Of the blue guitar thats played.
Blue guitar.
Blue guitar.
Get in the car.
James reach, jewel lyric archive
song performed by by Jewel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One evening
One evening
~
Caught in the candles lights
Flickering shadows on the wall
Softly the music plays, serenading
Whilst a conversation flows
Like the finest of wine poured
Into the glasses which rolled in hand
Flavour the scent of the evening
The warmest of company, love
Grows in the look of an eye
The curl of every smile
Caught in the candles light
A romance blossoming
Little else is as beautiful
Or motions to the heart
The warming amber glow
Captures in perfect silhouette
The first kiss of the evening
A relationship beginning
poem by Matthew Holloway
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Candles
i dreamt of candles
shimmering, dainty, romantic
....candles
all aglow lighting my path
melting away longingly
velvet ivory wax
licking the soft soles of my feet
...u came home to me
with diamonds and roses.
i dreamt of candles
ablaze, threating, ominous
....candles
all licking hungrily at my clothes
wanting to consume me
make me one with them
a charred cinder
.....u told me of her
with acerbic finality
i dreamt of candles
silent, suffering, perservering
....candles
all burning no longer a pretty yellow
just icy blue
plotting with precision
to set the stage on fire
....u called me repentent
i answered with laughter.
....'what goes around comes around'...
poem by Wardha Jawdat
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My Guitar.
my guitar has six strings,
it gets lonely when nobody sings,
musical and magical,
my pick makes my guitar sound so magical,
and no matter were i go shes right there,
when i play my guitar people always stare,
we sound so good together,
i hope my guitar will stay with me forever,
my guitar has six strings.
but it gets lonely when no one sings,
my guitar is never out of tune,
it doesnt matter who i play it too,
wether you're happy, mad or feeling blue,
just remember my guitar will help you get thru.
1/11/2009
Copyright ©2009 Jose Murguia
poem by Jose Murguia
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Perfect World
In my perfect world
The sky is a perfect blue
The grass is a soft green
And together are me and you
In my perfect world
The sun is a perfect heat
No global warming
It would be a treat
In my perfect world
There would be no disease
The flowers would bloom everyday
And no one would cut down trees
In my perfect world
No one would be poor
The streets paved with gold
Silver for the floor
In my perfect world
Death would never come
Pain would go away
And no one would be dumb
In my perfect world
The government would not rule
We’d chose for ourselves
What we thought was cool
In my perfect world
Racism would not exist
Discrimination would be over
And nothing would end with fists
But then I remember
I can’t believe it’s true
But my world really is perfect
Because I spend it with you
Busker On Penny Lane
Jingle-jangle played the guitar man –
strumming a song – he’s a Beatles fan.
Singing “Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band”,
on Penny Lane he would always stand.
It’s summertime, so he’s got a tan.
It’s hot, a dropp of sweat down his cheek ran;
he smiled, wiped his cheek – then he began.
“Paperback Writer” is in big demand –
Jingle-jangle…
He played a medley,10 minutes its span –
but “Strawberry Fields” wasn’t in the plan.
Admirers shout, “I wanna hold your hand”,
and his clinging wife doesn’t understand.
He loves his guitar, and the way she can
Jingle-jangle…
(A poem from the book 'Mr Blue Sky' by O. Phillips © 2009)
poem by Orville Phillips
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To William Theodore Peters On His Renaissance Cloak
The cherry-coloured velvet of your cloak
Time hath not soiled: its fair embroideries
Gleam as when centuries ago they spoke
To what bright gallant of Her Daintiness,
Whose slender fingers, long since dust and dead,
For love or courtesy embroidered
The cherry-coloured velvet of this cloak.
Ah! cunning flowers of silk and silver thread,
That mock mortality? the broidering dame,
The page they decked, the kings and courts are dead:
Gone the age beautiful; Lorenzo's name,
The Borgia's pride are but an empty sound;
But lustrous still upon their velvet ground,
Time spares these flowers of silk and silver thread.
Gone is that age of pageant and of pride:
Yet don your cloak, and haply it shall seem,
The curtain of old time is set aside;
As through the sadder coloured throng you gleam;
We see once more fair dame and gallant gay,
The glamour and the grace of yesterday:
The elder, brighter age of pomp and pride.
poem by Ernest Christopher Dowson
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Music
The neighbour sits in his window and plays the flute.
From my bed I can hear him,
And the round notes flutter and tap about the room,
And hit against each other,
Blurring to unexpected chords.
It is very beautiful,
With the little flute-notes all about me,
In the darkness.
In the daytime,
The neighbour eats bread and onions with one hand
And copies music with the other.
He is fat and has a bald head,
So I do not look at him,
But run quickly past his window.
There is always the sky to look at,
Or the water in the well!
But when night comes and he plays his flute,
I think of him as a young man,
With gold seals hanging from his watch,
And a blue coat with silver buttons.
As I lie in my bed
The flute-notes push against my ears and lips,
And I go to sleep, dreaming.
poem by Amy Lowell
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While Playing My Guitar
gently strumming my guitar
soft music fills the air
quietly humming along
thoughts begin floating
getting carried away
with notes beautifully played
approaching you reach out
taking my hand, leading me
finding our secret escape
twirling along with the chorus
lyrics written so perfect
matching our special moment
smiling, pulling me closer
you steal a kiss from me
more rapidly the song plays
matching our hearts fluttering
dancing and laughing
enjoying the sweet melody
till all too soon we begin fading
slowing, this perfect songs ending
leaving, whispering you love me
alone again, just dreaming
of what might have been
while quietly playing my guitar.
poem by Silentpoet Grl
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Moon, We Look to You.
Moon, you have a shade of blue tonight –
Is it something that you saw or heard?
Only yesterday, your tone was proud and bright,
Yellow silver, full, and so assured.
Moon, despite the clarity of sky,
Metaphors of cloud that fluff with grey
Drift across your rounded face to spy;
Feeding back, there's awfully much to say.
Moon, you have a role to play up there –
We below must bear the earthly pain.
Duty bound, we shoulder sorrows fair –
You are free from our grotesque disdain.
Moon, we depend on you to shine
When the sun retires down below.
Add to that your grandest role divine:
Tidal Lord, to keep the seas in tow!
Moon, I hope you take to heart our plea –
Needless is the reason for your blue.
Beaming, you should give the night its glee:
We're despairing – so we look to you.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
Moon moon, moon so blue, moon, moon so blue
Moon moon, moon so blue, moon, moon so blue
Moon moon, moon so blue, moon, moon so blue
Moon moon, moon so blue, moon, moon so blue
Moon moon, moon so blue, moon, moon so blue
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Some guitarists I know
Casey hides behind an Elvis swagger
And a marlboro red
He's small and charming
He has a smile that is velvet
He wants to live in a comic book
When he sings
Emotion hangs on his guitar strings
And He plays beautiful guitar
Green likes the blues
Johnny Lang, Stevie Ray
He has the style of Bruce Willis
Charms the pants off of most women
Sometimes he wants to be in love
But wonders why he cant love them
Like Jade and his mom
And He plays beautiful guitar
Dirty Kurt
Tall and lanky
Can write an enviable lyric in a second
Manipulates strings that makes girls weep
He has hearts in his eyes
Because He's in love with love
He has a radiant smile but his teeth are fake
And He plays beautiful guitar
John is solid as cement
Tall and expansive with big shoulders
With a big voice to match
Writes simple lyrics with complexity
He loves Iggy and the Stooges
And Mike Watt, Captain Sensible
John Lennon, Frank Black
Sometimes Eno
And He plays beautiful guitar
poem by Wanda Swim Strunk
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Sing one of your songs
Darling, sing one of your songs
when we are together
and the candles burn romantic for a time
and play on the chords of your blue guitar
and let me hear your beautiful voice
and remind me
about the reasons for our love.
Take me along
with a lovely tune
and let your magic words
fold around me
and hug me with your sweet voice
and make me believe
that I cannot loose anything
of you forever.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Blue Guitar
I once knew a man
Showed me the slight of hand
In the blink of an eye, he danced across the strings
Played a song I'd never heard
Poignant and absurd
To this day it leaves me wondering
How I wish tomorrow I were fishin'
Boy I've got a mission
Shake it, rattle and roll
Ah, now, just use your intuition
You'll get less competition
From the clock up on the wall
You are what you are
You dream what you dream
Play on your Blue Guitar for me
Play me a serenade
A simple masquerade
Play on your Blue Guitar for me
'Cause we'll all make believe
Someone to deceive
Time is just a folly we can't see
You only know one song
Play it right or wrong
The truth is always somewhere in between
You and I, we can't change the weather
And we're all in this together
So let the strong winds blow
Ah, now things will be much better
If you don't become a prisoner
To the reason you should know
You are what you are
You dream what you dream
Play on your Blue Guitar for me
Play me a serenade
A simple masquerade
Play on your Blue Guitar for me
How I wish tomorrow I were fishin'
Boy I've got a mission
Shake it, rattle and roll
Ah, now, just use you intuition
You'll get less competition
From the clock up on the wall
You are what you are
You dream what you dream
Play on your Blue Guitar for me
Play me a serenade
A simple masquerade
Play on your Blue Guitar for me
You are what you are
You dream what you dream
Play on your Blue Guitar for me
Play me a serenade
Red wine or lemonade
Play on your Bl
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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New
What path she walks
Near or far?
How sweet she talks to yonder star.
Yet her wishes cannot be heard.
Disappearing like a solitary bird
Into a sky
Of ethereal blue.
As patiently, I wait
For her love
Brand new.
Her scent as fresh as pine.
She blooms as springtime flower.
Her kiss still on the vine.
That I will drink
At twilight hour.
Our bodies ache in tune.
Her eyes of blue lagoon.
Kiss me in the night.
Her sighs float out of sight.
To rest in morning dew.
That zest
Our love
Brand new.
The thrill
Is beyond my quill.
To express
The vanquishing of lonliness.
That soft vibration of her caress.
She woos in moonlight hue.
She'll sparkle in her party dress.
Oh, lose me in love brand new.
Cruise me on ocean blue.
Her hand at last to hold.
We'll sail a sunset gold.
I see her in vermillion skies.
She touched me in dreams
Of long goodbyes.
I heard her whisper soft and true.
'With wings of silver, I fly to you'
With rings of gold
For our love.
Brand new.
poem by Kevin East
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Beloved Guitar
The long solid neck,
With flowing, refinded strings.
A base of cherry; finished wood.
Defined in figure, exquisite;
Among other things.
Shaped with a curve,
Set down in my lap.
I picked up my guitar,
And made my fingers tap.
A symphony from,
Those melodic strings.
Part of my hearts amour.
My fingers graze along,
This coppery and bronze decor.
A roughness they slide.
Along the ends;
Roughness on my fingertips.
A sliding; an arry of refreshing sounds.
One that echos into the bottem,
And emerges to astound.
My arm embraces the frame work,
A base of refined finished wood.
Tuned to a sound,
Like a guitar should.
My fingers cradle those melodic stings.
The light strum of my hand,
Makes music;
The guitar sings.
From the mouth of a speaker.
Out comes a tune.
With a cadence strum.
Fingers pressed down,
Out the music comes.
A symphony from,
This rhythmic harmony.
A tone in my soul.
A note that's always been apart of me.
A feeling I once knew.
I recall, a sound in the distance.
A beauty that plays so smooth.
Shaped with a curve,
Set down in my lap;
I picked up my guitar.
It slowly starts to come back.
That feeling, I'll never forget.
I recall, a sound not so far.
I recall, the feeling that day;
The day I picked up my beloved guitar.
poem by Jessie Jett
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Finding
From the candles and dumb shadows,
And the house where love had died,
I stole to the vast moonlight
And the whispering life outside.
But I found no lips of comfort,
No home in the moon's light
(I, little and lone and frightened
In the unfriendly night),
And no meaning in the voices. . . .
Far over the lands and through
The dark, beyond the ocean,
I willed to think of you!
For I knew, had you been with me
I'd have known the words of night,
Found peace of heart, gone gladly
In comfort of that light.
Oh! the wind with soft beguiling
Would have stolen my thought away;
And the night, subtly smiling,
Came by the silver way;
And the moon came down and danced to me,
And her robe was white and flying;
And trees bent their heads to me
Mysteriously crying;
And dead voices wept around me;
And dead soft fingers thrilled;
And the little gods whispered. . . .
But ever
Desperately I willed;
Till all grew soft and far
And silent . . .
And suddenly
I found you white and radiant,
Sleeping quietly,
Far out through the tides of darkness.
And I there in that great light
Was alone no more, nor fearful;
For there, in the homely night,
Was no thought else that mattered,
And nothing else was true,
But the white fire of moonlight,
And a white dream of you.
poem by Rupert Brooke (1909)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Brand New
What path she walks?
Near or far?
How sweet she talks to yonder star.
Yet her wishes cannot be heard
Disappearing like a solitary bird
Into a sky of ethereal blue.
As I patiently wait
For my love
Brand new.
Her scent as fresh as pine
She blooms as spring time flower.
Her kiss still on the vine
I will drink at twilight hour.
Our bodies ache in tune.
Her eyes of blue lagoon
Kiss me in the night.
Her sighs float out of sight
To rest in morning dew.
That zest,
Our love
Brand new.
The thrill is beyond my quill
To express.
The vanquishing of lonliness.
That soft vibration of her caress.
She woos in moonlight hue.
She'll sparkle in her party dress.
Oh, lose me in love
Brand new.
Cruise me on ocean blue.
Her hand at last to hold
We'll sail a sunset gold.
I see her in vermillion skies
She touched me in dreams
of long goodbyes.
I heard her whisper, soft and true
'With wings of silver I fly to you'
With rings of gold
For our love
Brand new.
poem by Kevin East
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Lyric to My Son and His Guitar
A Lyric To My Son and His Guitar
strum...
Strum the strings of your brown guitar;
Brings me to the music star lively as you are.
Far in the awful nights in an hour of silence
Plays me a song with ease and delight.
Plays no more a sad song,
Let the people hear only a refrain;
Of the imperial tune.
Strum...
Strum the strings of your brown guitar
Brings the world to the music star lively as you are...
poem by Elvira Marchan
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Pretty Beautiful
Beautiful rainbow
Its colourful style
If only upside down
Reminds me of your smile
Beautiful Sunset
It made me stare
Rich in bright goldness
Reminds me of your hair
Beautiful Moon
Shining from space
Shining so bright
Reminds me of your face
Beautiful Stars
Filling the sky
Luminously glowing
Reminds me of your eyes
Beautiful Guitar
Sweet acoustic melodies
Its perfect toned curves
Reminds me of your body
Beautiful Night
Filled with twinkling stars
Reminds me of.
How pretty you are!
poem by Le Tu Quang
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