Hem Of His Garment
Oh I wish I could be
Touched by the hem of his garment
To be proud has never been
So mean, so stern, so cruel
Oh I wish I could be
Touched by the hem of his garment
Oh, Ive come a long way
To touch the hem of his garment
And anger should be
The tool of a clown or a fool, you see
And why should such spite and such pain
Hang between you and me
When love should be
A queen on her throne
Looking after her own
I wish I could be
Touched by the hem of his garment
Two chairs at this table
One bed in this house
Seriously, I think we could be,
Touched by the hem of his garment
Oh, Ive come a long way
To touch the hem of his garment
Written by d. armstrong, r. armstrong, sister bliss, dave randall & maxi jazz
song performed by by Dido
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Truth
"Truth," said a traveller,
"Is a rock, a mighty fortress;
Often have I been to it,
Even to its highest tower,
From whence the world looks black."
"Truth," said a traveller,
"Is a breath, a wind,
A shadow, a phantom;
Long have I pursued it,
But never have I touched
The hem of its garment."
And I believed the second traveller;
For truth was to me
A breath, a wind,
A shadow, a phantom,
And never had I touched
The hem of its garment.
poem by Stephen Crane
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Any garment which is cut to fit you is much more becoming, even if it is not so splendid as a garment which has been cut to fit somebody not of your stature.
quote by Edna Ferber
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Woman with faith
For years you suffered
a dreadful decease
difficult was your life!
You heard
of the Lord Jesus
heard about His
healing powers
One morning you saw
Him passing by
you thought if you could
only touch His garment
you would be healed
your hand reached out
you touched His garment
What a faith you had
desired to be healed
to live life normally
and to be healed forever
courage you had
like no one else
You were healed
by the Lord's
healing power
He said:
'Courage my daughter
your faith
has made you well'
Your faith was
praiseworthy
strong enough
to move mountains
Blind faith
the faith
of a child
Faith you showed
too many
of us to move
mountains away
from our own will's
and desires
poem by Allen Brodell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Identity would seem to be the garment with which one covers the nakedness of the self, in which case, it is best that the garment be loose, a little like the robes of the desert, through which one's nakedness can always be felt, and, sometimes, discerned. This trust in one's nakedness is all that gives one the power to change one's robes.
quote by James Baldwin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Waltz
I touch hatred like a covered breast;
I without stopping go from garment to garment,
sleeping at a distance.
I am not, I'm of no use, I do not know
anyone; I have no weapons of ocean or wood,
I do not live in this house.
My mouth is full of night and water.
The abiding moon determines
what I do not have.
What I have is in the midst of the waves,
a ray of water, a day for myself,
an iron depth.
There is no cross-tide, there is no shield, no costume,
there is no special solution too deep to be sounded,
no vicious eyelid.
I live suddenly and other times I follow.
I touch a face suddenly and it murders me.
I have no time.
Do not look for me when drawing
the usual wild thread or the
bleeding net.
Do not call me: that is my occupation.
Do not ask my name or my condition.
Leave me in the middle of my own moon
in my wounded ground.
poem by Pablo Neruda
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tell me Brother
Tell me, Brother, how can I renounce Maya?
When I gave up the tying of ribbons, still I tied my garment about me:
When I gave up tying my garment, still I covered my body in its folds.
So, when I give up passion, I see that anger remains;
And when I renounce anger, greed is with me still;
And when greed is vanquished, pride and vainglory remain;
When the mind is detached and casts Maya away, still it clings to the letter.
Kabîr says, 'Listen to me, dear Sadhu! the true path is rarely found.'
The End Is Near
When you hear the thunder struck
The end is near
When you know people are unlovable
The end is near
When everybody is tribalistic
The end is near
When you know that the time has come
The end is near
When you hear the heavenly trumpet from heaven
And people dress in white garment
The end is near
So be alert
Drop your black garmment
Put on your white garment
Because the end is near
BY TEMILOLA ESTHER AREMU
9years old
poem by Babatunde Aremu
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Last Masquerade
A wan new garment of young green
Touched, as you turned your soft brown hair
And in me surged the strangest prayer
Ever in lover's heart hath been.
That I who saw your youth's bright page,
A rainbow change from robe to robe,
Might see you on this earthly globe,
Crowned with the silver crown of age.
Your dear hair powdered in strange guise,
Your dear face touched with colours pale:
And gazing through the mask and veil
The mirth of your immortal eyes.
poem by G.K. Chesterton from The Wild Knight and Other Poems (1900)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Behind it all
Pink rosy cheeks
white sparkling teeth
spread of laughter like a flowing garment
Giving comfort and hope
teaching love and peace
strong emphasis made on strength
Appraised by young and old
cherished by he lass
loved by the lads
who never see through her
who never see her when
alone at a corner
the garment of laughter gathers
down the silent path
the strength tears apart
behind closed doors
emptiness fills the air
If only she could get as much as she gives
If only they knew
behind all of it, lies something much more different
poem by Adenuga Titilayo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Indian Weavers
WEAVERS, weaving at break of day,
Why do you weave a garment so gay? . . .
Blue as the wing of a halcyon wild,
We weave the robes of a new-born child.
Weavers, weaving at fall of night,
Why do you weave a garment so bright? . . .
Like the plumes of a peacock, purple and green,
We weave the marriage-veils of a queen.
Weavers, weaving solemn and still,
What do you weave in the moonlight chill? . . .
White as a feather and white as a cloud,
We weave a dead man's funeral shroud.
poem by Sarojini Naidu
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sketch
The storm, fierce and unrelenting
Still He slept in the midst of its rage.
Terrified, they begged Him:
He spoke and the storm obeyed.
She was scorned
Because of her illness
Yet she did not stop believing;
Touched His garment
And received her healing.
Although guilty of many trespasses,
He forgives and redeems.
Although death deserving,
He gives life everlasting.
Even though we hate,
His love unyielding.
poem by Buxton Shippy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Jesus Will Return To You As The Word Of God
Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thy art still
now and forever, the Holy City of our Lord;
Jesus will return to you as “The Word Of God”.
When in judgement the heavens open behold
a white horse, the one seated upon it called
“Faithful and True”, he judges carries on war
in righteousness. His eyes are a fiery flame,
upon his head are many diadems. He his a name,
a secret name written, unknown to any but himself.
He is arrayed with an outer garment sprinkled
with blood, the name he is called is “The Word Of God”.
The armies of heaven are following him on white horses,
clothed in white, clean, fine linen. Out of his mouth
protrudes a sharp long sword, that he may strike
the nations with this sword! He will shepherd nations
with a rod of iron. He treads too the winepress
of the anger of the wrath of God the Almighty.
Upon his outer garment, even upon his thigh,
He has a name written, “King of kings and Lord of lords”.
Revelation 19: 11- 16.
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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As long as there are lice in the seams of the garment there must be bloodstains on the fingernails.
A Simple Touch!
you touched my hand,
and raised this body
from the land of the dead...
you touched my heart,
and freed this soul
from the dark maze
of its own prison.
you touched my eyes,
and restored sight
to a blind man.
you touched my ears,
and filled them with
the song of every living creature.
you touched my desire,
and brought stone and fire,
and the echo of the whipporwill's song.
i touched you,
and the earth stopped turning,
rivers stopped flowing,
and mountains fell...
all in a simple touch!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Some men wonder over God's values, others over the cut of a garment.
The body is a sacred garment.
quote by Martha Graham
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Whoever has only one garment does not wash it when it rains.