En.Citatepedia^®.ro

The Silly Dog

Upon the hills of Valley Drive
Lived Auntie Lil and Uncle Clive
There dog was aged, as much as five
It was still, staying alive

The grass was cut
And the clouds were blue
But the daft 'ald dog
Didn't have a clue.

At last the dog
Laid down to sleep
Until the next morning
Of dogs and sheep.

poem by Tom Ashman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Just Beyond

And Auntie saying Don’t
Go too far so I can’t see you
And off you’d go off down
The iron stairs with the dog
In pursuit and the wind in the
Sails of your coat and the sky
Beckoning above and Auntie’s
Voice trailing away on the wind’s
Wings and you happy as the sun
In the morning sky making your
Feet rush across grass and the dog
Overtaking looking back tongue
Out of the side of its mouth and
You saying Go on you mutt run
Run and your young legs taking
You far from Auntie’s sight and
Yet looking back you know she’ll
Be there hands in the clothes
Wash scrubbing away her elbows
Wet from the plunge and you
Throwing hands to the sky and
Saying Lift me up wind take me
To the great place beyond the clouds
Of white and sky of blue with just
The mutt and five year old you.

poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Your Auntie Grizelda

By diane hilderbrand and jack keller
She knows her mind all right, your auntie grizelda,
She says she knows my kind, she might, maybe so.
Oh, yeah, shes raised you right, your auntie grizelda,
You only know the things she wants you to know.
I know shes having a fit,
She doesnt like me a bit,
No bird of grace ever lit on auntie grizelda.
You cant begrudge her style, your auntie grizelda,
She couldnt budge a smile and do it for free.
So righteous making fudge, your auntie grizelda,
So proper judging others over her tea.
You look just like her you do,
I know by looking at you,
That youve been listening to your auntie grizelda.
[ad lib]
Oh, no, dont look at me like auntie grizelda
It takes much more to be someone of your own.
Youve got to make it free from auntie grizelda
Or just like her youll have to make it alone.
I know shes having a fit,
She doesnt like me a bit,
No bird of grace ever lit on auntie grizelda.
Auntie grizelda, auntie grizelda

song performed by by Monkees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

The Likeness

When I came forth this morn I saw
Quite twenty cloudlets in the air;
And then I saw a flock of sheep,
Which told me how these clouds came there.

That flock of sheep, on that green grass,
Well might it lie so still and proud!
Its likeness had been drawn in heaven,
On a blue sky, in silvery cloud.

I gazed me up, I gazed me down,
And swore, though good the likeness was,
'Twas a long way from justice done
To such white wool, such sparkling grass.

poem by William Henry Davies
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

I'm Not Losing Sleep

Yes, I've read the morning papers
Telling me that you've made money
Do you think I'm gonna crawl, then think again
Though I'm dressed in rags, I'm richer
Though I eat from tins, I'm healthier
Though I live in slums, I'm purer than you, my friend
Too bad, I'm not losing sleep
[Too bad] I'm just counting sheep
[Too bad] I'm not losing sleep, my friend
Look around and see the friends
The ones you left, our friends deserted
See the guys that used to talk and drink with you
Don't look down your nose at me
'Cause I won't ask your sympathy
I won't be your yes-sir man for anything
Too bad, I'm not losing sleep
[Too bad] I'm just counting sheep
[Too bad] I'm not losing sleep, my friend
I would walk with you
Talk with you, drink with you
If you drop that halo that you're wearing on the ground
Too bad, I'm not losing sleep
[Too bad] I'm just counting sheep
[Too bad] I'm not losing sleep, my friend
I can't get my satisfaction
Knowing you won't get reaction
What makes me the big attraction anyway
It's too bad, I'm not losing sleep
[Too bad] I'm just counting sheep
[Too bad] I'm not losing sleep, my friend
Too bad, I'm not losing sleep
[Too bad] I'm just counting sheep
[Too bad] I'm not losing sleep, my friend
Oh, it's too bad, I'm not losing sleep
[Too bad] I'm just counting sheep
[Too bad] I'm not losing sleep, my friend

song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Im Not Loosing Sleep

Yes, Ive read the morning papers
Telling me that youve made money
Do you think Im gonna crawl, then think again
Though Im dressed in rags, Im richer
Though I eat from tins, Im healthier
Though I live in slums, Im purer than you, my friend
Too bad, Im not losing sleep
[too bad] Im just counting sheep
[too bad] Im not losing sleep, my friend
Look around and see the friends
The ones you left, our friends deserted
See the guys that used to talk and drink with you
Dont look down your nose at me
cause I wont ask your sympathy
I wont be your yes-sir man for anything
Too bad, Im not losing sleep
[too bad] Im just counting sheep
[too bad] Im not losing sleep, my friend
I would walk with you
Talk with you, drink with you
If you drop that halo that youre wearing on the ground
Too bad, Im not losing sleep
[too bad] Im just counting sheep
[too bad] Im not losing sleep, my friend
I cant get my satisfaction
Knowing you wont get reaction
What makes me the big attraction anyway
Its too bad, Im not losing sleep
[too bad] Im just counting sheep
[too bad] Im not losing sleep, my friend
Too bad, Im not losing sleep
[too bad] Im just counting sheep
[too bad] Im not losing sleep, my friend
Oh, its too bad, Im not losing sleep
[too bad] Im just counting sheep
[too bad] Im not losing sleep, my friend

song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Incidents in the life of my Uncle Arly

O my aged Uncle Arly!
Sitting on a heap of Barley
Thro' the silent hours of night,
Close beside a leafy thicket:
On his nose there was a Cricket,
In his hat a Railway-ticket
(But his shoes were far too tight).

Long ago, in youth, he squander'd
All his goods away, and wander'd
To the Tinskoop-hills afar.
There on golden sunsets blazing,
Every evening found him gazing,
Singing, 'Orb! you're quite amazing!
How I wonder what you are!'

Like the ancient Medes and Persians,
Always by his own exertions
He subsisted on those hills;
Whiles, by teaching children spelling,
Or at times by merely yelling,
Or at intervals by selling
'Propter's Nicodemus Pills.'

Later, in his morning rambles
He perceived the moving brambles
Something square and white disclose;
'Twas a First-class Railway-Ticket;
But, on stooping down to pick it
Off the ground - a pea-green Cricket
Settled on my uncle's Nose.

Never - never more - oh, never,
Did that Cricket leave him ever,
Dawn or evening, day or night;
Clinging as a constant treasure,
Chirping with a cheerious measure,
Wholly to my uncle's pleasure
(Though his shoes were far too tight).

So for three and forty winters,
Till his shoes were worn to splinters,
All those hills he wander'd o'er,
Sometimes silent; sometimes yelling;
Till he came to Borley-Melling,
Near his old ancestral dwelling
(But his shoes were far too tight).

On a little heap of Barley
Died my aged Uncle Arly,
And they buried him one night;
Close beside the leafy thicket;
There - his hat and Railway-Ticket;
There - his ever-faithful Cricket
(But his shoes were far too tight).

poem by Edward Lear
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

New Morning

Cant you hear that rooster crowin?
Rabbit runnin down across the road
Underneath the bridge where the water flowed through
So happy just to see you smile
Underneath the sky of blue
On this new morning, new morning
On this new morning with you.
Cant you hear that motor turnin?
Automobile comin into style
Comin down the road for a country mile or two
So happy just to see you smile
Underneath the sky of blue
On this new morning, new morning
On this new morning with you.
The night passed away so quickly
It always does when youre with me.
Cant you feel that sun a-shinin?
Ground hog runnin by the country stream
This must be the day that all of my dreams come true
So happy just to be alive
Underneath the sky of blue
On this new morning, new morning
On this new morning with you.
So happy just to be alive
Underneath the sky of blue
On this new morning, new morning
On this new morning with you.
New morning . . .

song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Sonnet: The Flocks Need More Shepherds

Shepherds are turning scarcer, day by day!
Fragmented flocks have lesser sheep in fold;
With many lost, many sheep go astray;
Devils on rampage trouble, young and old.

Meadows have lesser grass that's succulent;
More sheep want better grass, water to drink;
The climes these days are turning turbulent;
The few shepherds are old-aged, on death's brink!

Shepherdless stay some flocks for many days;
They do not know the shepherd or his call!
The shepherd does not know his sheep by face;
From wolves' attack, there is no staff to stall!

Yet, God will find the shepherds in strange ways;
All righteous find their way through earthly maze!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 15-07-12

poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Blue Valley Songbird

She was born in a place called blue valley
At the foot of the tennessee hills
With the blue birds and blue bells
And blue mountain water
And the sound of the blue whippoorwill
But there was no peace in the valley
Her daddy, a cruel, ruthless man
Used and abused her mind and her body
So her mama said run while you can
So at fifteen she took to the highway
Belongings and guitar in hand
And she buried herself in her music
The one thing she did understand
And she sings like a bird and she writes like a poet
Her voice has that high, lonesome sound
She hurts, and her songs are the best way to show it
So the blue valley songbird keeps traveling around
She hopes someday she will make it
And everyone says that she will
When she comes to town, crowds flock around
To see the girl from the tennessee hills
She writes her letter back home to her mama
In care of the preacher in town
Theyre sacred to her so she reads them at church
And so her daddy cannot track her down
And she sings like a bird and she cries like a baby
Whenever she turns off the lights
Shes a whole lot lonesome and a little bit crazy
From memries and miseries and dreams gone awry
Blue dress, blue shoes, a blue cadillac
A band dressed in blue by her side
Instruments tied to the top and the back
cause the blue valley songbird is singing tonight
One nighters, honky tonks, years flying by
She never made it, but lord knows she tries
Expressing the feelings she holds inside
And the blue valley songbird is singing tonight
Oh the blue valley songbird is singing tonight
And she sings like a bird and she writes like a poet

song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Nothing To Say.

Auntie took you to the hut
where the wives of the soldiers

met up to chat and drink tea
and eat cakes and you sat in

the chair looking at each of
them in turn wishing time

would go and you could go
back home to your few toys

and play but no Auntie carried
on the talking and the long

conversations were way over
your head and now and then

they’d break into laughter and
some woman’s kid would cry

and she’d say I think she needs
changing and off she’d go wheeling

the pram to another room and
Auntie’d talk to another woman

and you’d lift your eyes ceiling
wards and wonder where Uncle

was fighting and how he would
cope stuck in the hut with women

yakking all the time and one woman
smiled a big goofy smile at you and

offered you a cake and orange juice
but you shook your head and looked

away in silence sulking with no good
thoughts in your mind and nothing to say.

poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

aaa1 Especially the Donkeys

I remember thinking it’s all happening in the sky
Above the clouds
I remember thinking how did we get to know about it
6yrs old
With innocence of a child I never thought to question
Never asked mum or dad
Never asked anyone
Others believed so why not me
Anyway the stories were great
Grandad in his uniform, he believed
Auntie Rose believed
The whole side of dad’s family believed
They played in the band,
Sold the papers
Rattled the tins
Story was dad was thrown out for drinking
Off ill the doctor said Bill have some stout, it will do you good
When the officer saw it on a home visit dad was thrown out
But he still believed
So did I, with the innocence of a child
Auntie Gladys believed but they had no band
Just an organ, and the songs weren’t as good
No joy
Just belief
Uncle Fred repaired the roof, did odd jobs
He believed
Anyway it was worth believing for the Whit walks
People threw money
You kept it
After the walks the bus
The annual trip to Southport
Sandwiches and songs on the beach
Yet I still see myself, in the classroom
Dreaming of this land in the sky
Wondering why all these people didn’t fall out of it
Especially the Donkeys

poem by Bill Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Morning Fresh (From,134 Picture Poems)

morning fresh
before clouds
and sunshine

passing river
walking through
the quiet vision around

from hills beyond
swale grass

poem by Peter S. Quinn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

I Sleep a Lot

I sleep a lot and read St. Thomas Aquinas
Or The Death of God (that's a Protestant book).
To the right the bay as if molten tin,
Beyond the bay, city, beyond the city, ocean,
Beyond the ocean, ocean, till Japan.
To the left dry hills with white grass,
Beyond the hills an irrigated valley where rice is grown,
Beyond the valley, mountains and Ponderosa pines,
Beyond the mountains, desert and sheep.

When I couldn't do without alcohol, I drove myself on alcohol,
When I couldn't do without cigarettes and coffee, I drove myself
On cigarettes and coffee.
I was courageous. Industrious. Nearly a model of virtue.
But that is good for nothing.

I feel a pain.
not here. Even I don't know.
many islands and continents,
words, bazaars, wooden flutes,
Or too much drinking to the mirror, without beauty,
Though one was to be a kind of archangel
Or a Saint George, over there, on St. George Street.
Please, Doctor,
Not here. No,
Maybe it's too
Unpronounced

Please, Medicine Man, I feel a pain.
I always believed in spells and incantations.
Sure, women have only one, Catholic, soul,
But we have two. When you start to dance
You visit remote pueblos in your sleep
And even lands you have never seen.
Put on, I beg you, charms made of feathers,
Now it's time to help one of your own.
I have read many books but I don't believe them.
When it hurts we return to the banks of certain rivers.

I remember those crosses with chiseled suns and moons
And wizards, how they worked during an outbreak of typhus.
Send your second soul beyond the mountains, beyond time.
Tell me what you saw, I will wait.

poem by Czeslaw Milosz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

I'll Sleep When I Am Dead

J. Bon Jovi, R. Sambora, D. Child)
Seven days of saturday
Is all that I need
Got no use for Sunday
'Cause I don't rest in peace
Don't need no Mondays
Or the rest of the week
I spend a lot of time in bed
But baby I don't like to sleep no
I won't lie to you
I'm necer gonna cry to you
I'll probably drive you wild 8 days a week
Until I'm 6 feet under
Baby I don't need a bed
Gonna live while I'm alive
I'll sleep when I'm dead
Till they roll me over
And lay my bones to rest
Gonna live while I'm alive
I'll sleep when I'm dead
So you're looking for some action
I got got everything you need
Better keep your motor running
'cause I was built for speed
This ain't no slumber party
Got no time for catching z's
If they say that that ain't healthy
Well then living's a disease
We're never going to die baby
Come on let me drive you crazy
We'll make every night another New Year's Eve
Till I'm six feet under
I won't need a bed
Gonna live while I'm alive
I'll sleep when I'm dead
Till they roll me over
And lay my bones to rest
Gonna live while I'm alive
I'll sleep when I'm dead
Sleep when I'm dead, sleep when I'm dead
Gonna live while I'm alive,
I'll sleep when I'm dead
Seven days of Saturday
Is all that I need
Got no use for Sunday
'Cause I don't rest in peace
I was born to live
You know I wasn't born to die
But if they party down in heaven
I'll be sure to be on time
Until I'm six feet under
I don't need a bed
Gonna live while I'm alive
I'll sleep when I'm dead
Till they roll me over
And lay my bones to rest
Gonna live while I'm alive
I'll sleep when I'm dead
I feel like I'm exploding
Going out of my head
Gonna live while I'm alive
I'll sleep when I'm dead
Till I'm six feet under
And they lay my bones to rest
Gonna live while I'm alive
I'll sleep when I'm dead
Sleep when I'm dead, sleep when I'm dead
Gonna live while I'm alive, sleep when I'm dead

song performed by by Bon Jovi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Evening Prayer

Wind stirs in expectation; it
softly strokes my face.

The March sun reassures me,
warms pale flesh
through layers of thick sweater
and winter coat.

Under indigo hills
new grass flows,
yellow and green,

as past distant ranges,
to the sky-bright, rounded sea
he flees and sends
a gift of clouds,
aflame
in glory.

Peace to the grass of the fields!
Peace
to dark hills and drifting clouds,
and to the sacrificial sun
peace!

poem by Steven Federle
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Magic Lies In Silence Of Grass and In Your Voice

I am barefoot walking in the grass of morning,
The dew drops are comforting my feet,
I felt relieved by my stress and grief,
When i heard your voice in the grass rustling.

I lie down on grass and i could feel its silence,
I close my eyes and i enjoyed your voice,
The smell of grass was taken on the wings of wind,
Magic lies in silence of grass and in your voice.

Is amazing how much miracle stays in a blade of grass,
Opening my eyes i saw above the sky,
There was your face among the clouds smiling,
I had the feeling that i want to hug the sky.

I'm gonna miss you all the days of life,
And even when death will take my last breath,
Last thing i'll do passing to eternity,
I'm gonna miss you.

Winter will come, grass will fall asleep,
I 'll not hear the grass rustling anymore,
Only my memories with you will be always alive,
Rustling in my mind as grass did.

poem by Cristina Teodor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Autumnal Sunday

Autumnal Sunday

Rain, it is October the month of melancholy
and you know that the blue sky and sun of
yesterday was just another foolish illusion
the cock didn’t crow this morning and dogs
ears didn’t move when a stranger’s voice
echoed in narrow streets, they knew it was
the voice of doom;

the harvester had arrived in coming month
the old would succumb to the damp breath
of death; not too many tears shed, faces in
a black frame, yes, that’s the way it is we
understand death if not our own. Dogs need
not be told, they snooze sure they are own
their own immortality

poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Pejar Creek

Deep in the meadow grass
Easy stand the cattle,
Lightly lock the young bulls
In a mimic battle,
Pride gathers with each shock,
Every break and rally -
That’s where the Pejar runs,

Runs like a slip of silver through the valley.
Softly as a thrush sings
In the morning hushes,
Softly sing the waters
Round the reedy rushes,
Softly at the sand-bar,
Softly at the sally -
That’s where the Pejar runs,
Runs like a slip of silver through the valley.

Where awakes the morning
To dapple all the hills,
Where dewdrop, shaken,
Pendant slides and spills,
Where the golden bugles
Sunset calls reveille -
That’s where the Pejar runs,
Runs like a slip of silver through the valley.

Where the springtime blossoms
Like a mellow laughter,
Over all the grasses,
Over ridge and rafter,
Over all the tree-tops,
Down each ferny valley -
That’s where the Pejar runs,

Runs like a slip of silver through the valley.
Where the Pejar rises
Springs the Wollondilly,
Twinned upon the mountains
Babbling brook and ghyllie;

Where the bridge-heads rumble
Side by side they dally -
Out where the Pejar runs,
Runs like a slip of silver through the valley.

poem by Dame Mary Gilmore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Drivin

It seems like all the world is fighting
Theyre even talking of a war
Let all the russians and the chinese
And the spanish do their fighting
The sun is shining
Were going drivin, drivin
Drop all your work
Leave it behind
Forget all your problems
And get in my car
And take a drive with me
The sandwiches are packed
The tea is in the flask
Weve plenty of beer
And gooseberry tarts
So take a drive with me
Well take your mother if you want to
Well have a picnic on the grass
Forget your nephews
And your cousins and your brothers and your sisters
Theyll never miss us
cos well be drivin, drivin. drivin. drivin
Thousands of trees
Hundreds of fields
Millions of birds
So why dont you come
And take a drive with me
Well talk to the cows
And laugh at the sheep
Well lie in a field
And well have a sleep
So take a drive with me
And all the troubled world around us
Seems an eternity away
And all the debt collectors
Rent collectors
All will be behind us
But theyll never find us
cos well be drivin, drivin, drivin, drivin
Passed barnet church
Up to potters bar
We wont be home late
Its not very far
So take a drive with me, take a drive with me
Drivin, drivin, drivin, drivin

song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Appreciation

MY muvver's ist the nicest one
'At ever lived wiz folks;
She lets you have ze mostes' fun,
An' laffs at all your jokes.
I got a ol' maid auntie, too,
The worst you ever saw;
Her eyes ist bore you through and through, —
She ain't a bit like ma.
She's ist as slim as slim can be,
An' when you want to slide
Down on ze balusters, w'y she
Says 'at she's harrified.
She ain't as nice as Uncle Ben,
What says 'at little boys
Won't never grow to be big men
Unless they're fond of noise.
But muvver's nicer zan 'em all,
She calls you, 'precious lamb,'
An' let's you roll your ten-pin ball,
An' spreads your bread wiz jam.
An' when you're bad, she ist looks sad,
You fink she's goin' to cry;
An' when she don't you're awful glad,
An' den you're good, Oh, my!
At night, she takes ze softest hand,
An' lays it on your head,
An' says 'Be off to Sleepy-Land
By way o' trundle-bed.'
So when you fink what muvver knows
An' aunts an' uncle tan't,
It skeers a feller; ist suppose
His muvver 'd been a aunt.

poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!