In The Yard Behind The Church
In the yard, behind the church
Where butterflies and blackbirds search
For a safe place to rest the night away
We will go down to the brook
And sit upon the overlook
Then forget about the troubles of the day
We will walk among the graves of
Men long dead with Presidents' names and
Listen to the water flow softly by
I will kiss you on the lips now
And as the sky grows dark we'll strip down
And let the water wash away all lies
In the yard, behind the church
Where butterflies and blackbirds perch
On gravestones as the garden's growing dim
We will lay down on the ground
And put our cheeks against the dirt down
Where it no longer matters where you've been
song performed by by Eels
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Butterflies For Breakfast? (Life Poem)
Butterflies before you sit the final exam,
Butterflies before you go for a job interview,
Butterflies before you ask her out on a date,
Butterflies before you kiss her for the first time,
Butterflies before you propose two will be one,
Butterflies before you meet her family,
Butterflies before you see her all in white,
Butterflies before you make that big speech,
Butterflies before you see that your baby is OK,
Butterflies before you get news from the doctor,
Butterflies before you lose your job again,
Butterflies before you face any little crisis,
But -
No butterflies for breakfast.
poem by Ian Beckett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We are Seven
--------A Simple Child,
That lightly draws its breath,
And feels its life in every limb,
What should it know of death?
I met a little cottage Girl:
She was eight years old, she said;
Her hair was thick with many a curl
That clustered round her head.
She had a rustic, woodland air,
And she was wildly clad:
Her eyes were fair, and very fair;
--Her beauty made me glad.
"Sisters and brothers, little Maid,
How many may you be?"
"How many? Seven in all," she said
And wondering looked at me.
"And where are they? I pray you tell."
She answered, "Seven are we;
And two of us at Conway dwell,
And two are gone to sea.
"Two of us in the church-yard lie,
My sister and my brother;
And, in the church-yard cottage, I
Dwell near them with my mother."
"You say that two at Conway dwell,
And two are gone to sea,
Yet ye are seven!--I pray you tell,
Sweet Maid, how this may be."
Then did the little Maid reply,
"Seven boys and girls are we;
Two of us in the church-yard lie,
Beneath the church-yard tree."
"You run about, my little Maid,
Your limbs they are alive;
If two are in the church-yard laid,
Then ye are only five."
"Their graves are green, they may be seen,"
The little Maid replied,
"Twelve steps or more from my mother's door,
And they are side by side.
"My stockings there I often knit,
My kerchief there I hem;
And there upon the ground I sit,
And sing a song to them.
"And often after sunset, Sir,
When it is light and fair,
I take my little porringer,
And eat my supper there.
"The first that died was sister Jane;
In bed she moaning lay,
Till God released her of her pain;
And then she went away.
"So in the church-yard she was laid;
And, when the grass was dry,
Together round her grave we played,
My brother John and I.
"And when the ground was white with snow,
And I could run and slide,
My brother John was forced to go,
And he lies by her side."
"How many are you, then," said I,
"If they two are in heaven?"
Quick was the little Maid's reply,
"O Master! we are seven."
"But they are dead; those two are dead!
Their spirits are in heaven!"
'Twas throwing words away; for still
The little Maid would have her will,
And said, "Nay, we are seven!"
poem by William Wordsworth
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This morning six thirty we drive past a church
This morning six thirty
we drive past a church
where a lot of cars are already parked.
While we pass the church
I wonder about what
the people are praying
and I think that they
must truly be Christians.
The church has a neat yard
and looks out of place
in the inner city where everything dilapidates
and I hear a song softly
that people
is busy singing
and then I know that Gods amazing grace
goes through every thing and every place.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Blackbirds
(- this is done in the tradition of 'Imagist' poetry, which was very popular in the 1910's and 20's... personally I still find it quite fascinating. - Smoky.)
- Stevens wrote:
' The river is moving
The blackbird must be flying '
- The blackest waters
Flow, as flying...
The birds sail
Below, the sky crying -
It has been dark
All day...
Clouds and blackbirds
Get in the sun's way -
In the way they move
And flow,
In the way they stay
And go -
In a field
Of solid white...
The blackbirds
Are the dark of night.
poem by Smoky Hoss
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'Need a kiss
Sunday is a holiday then we are going to that place.
That silent place full of silence, we are there standing,
we saw the so many coloured greenish leaves big trees.
so many birds, and butterflies decorating the blue sky
Then a butterfly dancing in the sky.
Together we Keep a released longing.
sitting near in the shallow river.
We see fishes in the depth so calm
We look up at the rainbow in the sky.
So many days you have never kiss me.
I'need a kiss, here in the silent place near in the river.
Trees, butterflies, fishes, please we are given a chance.to make a perfect kisses.
Here in the silent place.
My lips are longing after so many days you have never kiss me.
See my eyes, do you know my yearning?
Oh love***kiss me softly now*
everything will be quiet.
Just you and me enjoyed***kiss***
then my heart full of desire, you will know everything.
Your kiss fly with me.
Your kiss will stun me.
Your kiss will softly me soft.
Your kiss is sweet hearted.
Your kiss is a pray.
Your kiss is wanted
your kiss so bright
your kiss is everything.
Butterfiles
VERSE
Swallow purple terror candy
Don't forget to breathe
Sickened by the wanting
And drowning from the need
This dichromatic vision
Of one who does not care
To sipping cocktail sedatives
Two months to hide somewhere
CHORUS
Butterflies, Butterflies
Cut the stomach out and hand it over
Butterflies, Butterflies
My heart will be the bridge that-
you walk over
VERSE
The wolf has caught the chicken
And now I feel unsteady
Emotions on the blink again
So kick me when you're ready
Here lies a violet coffin
The death of my control
Along with all my skeletons
They put them in the hole
VERSE
Sickened by the notion
I give myself again
Choking on the bullet, the gun-
thats found a friend
So raise your glass to sorrow
And drink to all the pain
Tie a silver ribbon around
The pieces that remain
CHORUS
Butterflies, Butterflies
Cut the stomach out and hand it over
Butterflies, Butterflies
My heart will be the bridge that-
you walk over
song performed by by Natalie Imbruglia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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All I Ask
Stumbling down a road lined with signs
It's obvious I'm in the wrong direction
But I won't stop now you know I feel fine
Just looking for some affection
And all I ask is to be able to hold on longer
And all I ask is to be able to walk on water
Walk on water
I figure it won't be long it won't be hard
Just gotta get my feet back on the ground
Just gotten a hold of some unlucky cards
And I have yet to make another round
And all I ask is to be able to hold on longer
And all I ask is to be able to walk on water
Walk on water
No one lent a hand, no one laid a look upon me
Invisible to everything but blame
No, and no one cared to tell, no one dared to believe in anything
And left me to drown in this pain
And all I ask is to be able to hold on longer
And all I ask is to be able to walk on water
Walk on water
song performed by by Vanessa Carlton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Cross Roads
There was an old man breaking stones
To mend the turnpike way,
He sat him down beside a brook
And out his bread and cheese he took,
For now it was mid-day.
He lent his back against a post,
His feet the brook ran by;
And there were water-cresses growing,
And pleasant was the water's flowing
For he was hot and dry.
A soldier with his knapsack on
Came travelling o'er the down,
The sun was strong and he was tired,
And of the old man he enquired
How far to Bristol town.
Half an hour's walk for a young man
By lanes and fields and stiles.
But you the foot-path do not know,
And if along the road you go
Why then 'tis three good miles.
The soldier took his knapsack off
For he was hot and dry;
And out his bread and cheese he took
And he sat down beside the brook
To dine in company.
Old friend! in faith, the soldier says
I envy you almost;
My shoulders have been sorely prest
And I should like to sit and rest,
My back against that post.
In such a sweltering day as this
A knapsack is the devil!
And if on t'other side I sat
It would not only spoil our chat
But make me seem uncivil.
The old man laugh'd and moved. I wish
It were a great-arm'd chair!
But this may help a man at need;
And yet it was a cursed deed
That ever brought it there.
There's a poor girl lies buried here
Beneath this very place.
The earth upon her corpse is prest
This stake is driven into her breast
And a stone is on her face.
The soldier had but just lent back
And now he half rose up.
There's sure no harm in dining here,
My friend? and yet to be sincere
I should not like to sup.
God rest her! she is still enough
Who sleeps beneath our feet!
The old man cried. No harm I trow
She ever did herself, tho' now
She lies where four roads meet.
I have past by about that hour
When men are not most brave,
It did not make my heart to fail,
And I have heard the nightingale
Sing sweetly on her grave.
I have past by about that hour
When Ghosts their freedom have,
But there was nothing here to fright,
And I have seen the glow-worm's light
Shine on the poor girl's grave.
There's one who like a Christian lies
Beneath the church-tree's shade;
I'd rather go a long mile round
Than pass at evening thro' the ground
Wherein that man is laid.
There's one that in the church-yard lies
For whom the bell did toll;
He lies in consecrated ground,
But for all the wealth in Bristol town
I would not be with his soul!
Did'st see a house below the hill
That the winds and the rains destroy?
'Twas then a farm where he did dwell,
And I remember it full well
When I was a growing boy.
And she was a poor parish girl
That came up from the west,
From service hard she ran away
And at that house in evil day
Was taken in to rest.
The man he was a wicked man
And an evil life he led;
Rage made his cheek grow deadly white
And his grey eyes were large and light,
And in anger they grew red.
The man was bad, the mother worse,
Bad fruit of a bad stem,
'Twould make your hair to stand-on-end
If I should tell to you my friend
The things that were told of them!
Did'st see an out-house standing by?
The walls alone remain;
It was a stable then, but now
Its mossy roof has fallen through
All rotted by the rain.
The poor girl she had serv'd with them
Some half-a-year, or more,
When she was found hung up one day
Stiff as a corpse and cold as clay
Behind that stable door!
It is a very lonesome place,
No hut or house is near;
Should one meet a murderer there alone
'Twere vain to scream, and the dying groan
Would never reach mortal ear.
And there were strange reports about
That the coroner never guest.
So he decreed that she should lie
Where four roads meet in infamy,
With a stake drove in her breast.
Upon a board they carried her
To the place where four roads met,
And I was one among the throng
That hither followed them along,
I shall never the sight forget!
They carried her upon a board
In the cloaths in which she died;
I saw the cap blow off her head,
Her face was of a dark dark red
Her eyes were starting wide:
I think they could not have been closed
So widely did they strain.
I never saw so dreadful a sight,
And it often made me wake at night,
For I saw her face again.
They laid her here where four roads meet.
Beneath this very place,
The earth upon her corpse was prest,
This post is driven into her breast,
And a stone is on her face.
poem by Robert Southey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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One Little Kiss
Just one more kiss Plant it softly on my cheek
Bring me to my knees
Please baby
Make me forget
Make me erase
The thoughts
Of pain
Make me forget
The thoughts of my last breath
...One more kiss
Place it gently on my lips
Make me forget
With a loved filled kiss
All the things that I miss
I find it all in just one little kiss
One more kiss
place it tenderly upon me
as the tears roll down
for once i am happy
never felt like this before
you walked through my door
what made it happen
in just one little kiss
i fell in love
and in each little kiss
I fall more in love with you
so give me one more little kiss...
poem by Kylee Church
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The Bird's Bargain
'O spare my cherries in the net,'
Brother Benignus prayed; 'and I
Summer and winter, shine and wet,
Will pile the blackbirds' table high.'
'O spare my youngling peas,' he prayed,
'That for the Abbot's table be;
And every blackbird shall be fed;
Yea, they shall have their fill,' said he.
His prayer, his vow, the blackbirds heard,
And spared his shining garden-plot.
In abstinence went every bird,
All the old thieving ways forgot.
He kept his promise to his friends,
And daily set them finest fare
Of corn and meal and manchet-ends,
With marrowy bones for winter bare.
Brother Benignus died in grace:
The brethren keep his trust, and feed
The blackbirds in this pleasant place,
Purged, as dear heaven, from strife and greed.
The blackbirds sing the whole year long,
Here where they keep their promise given,
And do the mellowing fruit no wrong.
Brother Benignus smiles in heaven.
poem by Katharine Tynan
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Carnal
The carnal mind of mankind is what rules the wold,
And the beautiful butterflies were killed last night!
But, i did seek for you my love;
And, you were nowhere to be found.
The rain has now stopped for me to walk through,
And the carnal mind will lead me on to search for you!
Because, she she who is your wife brought forth her firstborn last night;
And, you were nowhere to be found.
The carnal minds of therse people around me are in vain! !
But, where is the husband of this woman?
And like the case of the dead butterflies!
For, i now need a place to hide myself from these negative acts.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Over The Rise
I walk along the levee to see the gypsy man
The dirt neath my feet babys turnin to quicksand
He looked into my palm, then looked me in the eye
And told me you were gone, gone over the rise
Once we stood together at the wishing well
Our wishes like dreams, baby, into the water fell
Oh then I kissed your lips but when I looked into your eyes
They were gone, gone over the rise
Tonight the blackbirds fly low on the waters edge
Oh we walked this path not knowing where it led
Now at the bottom of the river deep lies something shiny and golden
Is a promise that love couldnt keep same as a promise broken*
Well I woke last night to the sound of rain
The wind rustling branches against the window pane
I searched the pillow beside me for the tears we cried
Baby they were gone, gone over the rise
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Grateful Water
Live if you can when the water runs dry.
Once in a decade perhaps, or never in a life
Save your tear so that you won’t have to cry.
Let the water flow and wash away the strife.
Dry yourself with water if any miracle you need.
Let the water run upwards for a change to fancy.
Feed the water well to run through the creed.
Run Water! ! Run! ! Flow in a stream of constancy.
Drop of tears, dew drops, even a single dropp of water.
In course of time can change a thing always for real.
Pool, pond, brook, lake will never stop to utter
The utterance of gratitude, in the way they feel
Sometimes to the greatest source of the sea
Even sometimes to the man’s ungrateful plea.
Written in the afternoon of the 12th February,2010
poem by Munia Khan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sex & The Church
Though the idea of compassion
Is said to be
The union of christ
And his bride, the christian
Its all very puzzling
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
And the church
And the church
All the great mystic religions
Put strong emphasis, on
Redeame this spiritual qualities
Of sex of sex
Chrstianity
Has been pretty modern
About sex
Of sex of sex of sex of sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex sex
I think there is a union
Between the flesh and the spirit
Its sex and the church
Sex and the church
All religions mother
Give me youre freedom of spirit
And the joys of the flesh
Of sex sex sex and the church
Give me youre freedom of spirit
And the joys of the flesh
Of sex sex sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
And the church
And the church
Sex sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
And the church
And the church
Sex sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex sex
Sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex sex
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Little Nell
GLEAMING through the silent church-yard,
Winter sunlight seemed to shed
Golden shadows like soft blessings
O'er a quiet little bed,
Where a pale face lay unheeding
Tender tears that o'er it fell;
No sorrow now could touch the heart
Of gentle little Nell.
Ah, with what silent patient strength
The frail form lying there
Had borne its heavy load of grief,
Of loneliness and care.
Now, earthly burdens were laid down,
And on the meek young face
There shone a holier loveliness
Than childhood's simple grace.
Beset with sorrow, pain and fear,
Tempted by want and sin,
With none to guide or counsel her
But the brave child-heart within.
Strong in her fearless, faithful love,
Devoted to the last,
Unfaltering through gloom and gleam
The little wanderer passed.
Hand in hand they journeyed on
Through pathways strange and wild,
The gray-haired, feeble, sin-bowed man
Led by the noble child.
So through the world's dark ways she passed,
Till o'er the church-yard sod,
To the quiet spot where they found rest,
Those little feet had trod.
To that last resting-place on earth
Kind voices bid her come,
There her long wanderings found an end,
And weary Nell a home.
A home whose light and joy she was,
Though on her spirit lay
A solemn sense of coming change,
That deepened day by day.
There in the church-yard, tenderly,
Through quiet summer hours,
Above the poor neglected graves
She planted fragrant flowers.
The dim aisles of the ruined church
Echoed the child's light tread,
And flickering sunbeams thro' the leaves
Shone on her as she read.
And here where a holy silence dwelt,
And golden shadows fell,
When Death's mild face had looked on her,
They laid dear happy Nell.
Long had she wandered o'er the earth,
One hand to the old man given,
By the other angels led her on
Up a sunlit path to Heaven.
Oh! 'patient, loving, noble Nell,'
Like light from sunset skies,
The beauty of thy sinless life
Upon the dark world lies.
On thy sad story, gentle child,
Dim eyes will often dwell,
And loving hearts will cherish long
The memory of Nell.
poem by Louisa May Alcott
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Kiss Kiss Kiss
Kiss kiss kiss
Even if she does not posses
Angelina Jolie's luscious lips
Take her imagination to ecstasy
A place where flowers dance tango
A garden full of red and white roses
Your chapped strong lips her ticket
To the city where waterfalls sing
Kiss Kiss Kiss and make up
Make all her troubles go away
Light up your beautiful home gentleman.
Kiss Kiss Kiss
The only way to keep him
Close to your fire of passion
Put a lip gloss on your body
By the time you approach him
His eyes will be kissing and kissing
All over your smooth fine body
Be the lady of the smoking home
Kiss Kiss Kiss and make up
Take his imagination out of hardships
Worthy to be your partner kiss him.
Kiss Kiss Kiss
Respect your loving husband
Love your respectful wife.
poem by Young Church
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Gulf Coast Highway
(nanci griffith)
Gulf coast highway, he worked the rails
He worked the rice fields with their cold dark wells
He worked the oil rigs in the gulf of mexico
The only thing weve owned is this old house here by the road
And when he dies he says hell catch some blackbirds wing
And we will fly away to heaven
Come some sweet blue bonnet spring
She walked through springtime when I was home
The days were sweet, our nights were warm
The seasons changed, the jobs would come
The flowers fade, and this old house felt so alone
When the work took me away
And when she dies she says shell catch some blackbirds wing
And she will fly away to heaven
Come some sweet blue bonnet spring
Highway 90, the jobs are gone
We kept our garden, we set the sun
This is the only place on earth blue bonnets grow
And once a year they come and go
At this old house here by the road
And when we die we say well catch some blackbirds wing
And we will fly away to heaven
Come some sweet blue bonnet spring
Yes when we die we say well catch some blackbirds wing
And we will fly away together
Come some sweet blue bonnet spring
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Scenic Garden
As I walk with your hand in mine, I see the most beautiful paradise known to man,
My eyes water at the magnificence of this garden like land,
Everything looks as if it’s a dream beyond the farthest span,
Let’s take a walk through paradise as I hold your hand,
I can see that majestic fountain that sits in the center of the garden of glee,
I observe in awe as I see the water flow gently down the steeps,
And it seems as if this is all made up in a dream,
But the reality is that in this garden of glee is where the angels sleep,
I’ve never seen something so beautiful in my life,
It looks as if the heavens came down to enhance my dream like sight,
The flowers are so scenic of pink, yellow, red and white,
This wonderland is so beautiful the plants blossom in the night,
As I walk with your hand in mine the rain drizzles gently to the ground,
I listen closely and I hear the birds chirping in the most beautiful of sounds,
I’m surrounded by magic in this beautiful garden all around,
Then I turn to you and lay my lips on yours,
I close my eyes in the process and realize it’s even more beautiful than before,
What I’ve realized is that, this magic garden isn’t the most that I adore,
It’s your hand in mine that I’ll hold forever more.
poem by Kurt Kacich
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Butterfly (Funny Story)
Memories
today i calmly sat in a park bench,
a butterfly came dangling resting on my elbow,
it's magnificent beauty reminded me about my childhood.
I remembered that day,
carrying a big basin and creeping down the blades of grass,
with my big basin i wud try to trap the butterflies in our yard.
Everytime i tried the butterflies would fly zigzagly and escape,
mama saw it all,
she came to the yard too,
holding my tiny shoulders as i rested in the big basin,
she said 'to catch a butterfly, just relax and extend your elbow, don't say a world or tremble, the butterfly will come to you'.
Then she left.
And true, a beautiful butterfly rested in my small palm.
Mmmh vote if you think its awesme out of 10.
poem by Prince Froggy Mwalimu
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Angel In The Rain
an angel lies on the ground in the rain
what are people doing to her
has to world truly gone insane
when i reach her she seems to be dead
i wanted to help am i to late
i look down and she slowly turns her head
i tell her she will be safe from the crowd
i lift her up and take her away
she looks at me before she passes out
while she is resting on my bed
she shivers and cries
i realise that her heart is sad
your safe here from any harm
i turn to walk away
then she suddenly grabs my arm
with eyes as water she thanks me
don't worry it's ok
why are u treating me so kindly
why would you help me like that
there has to be a catch
i tell her we share wounds of combat
on her face grows a smile
don't leave me alone
just stay next to me for a while
on my cheek she grants me a kiss
i hold her in my arms
and we fall asleep together like this
poem by Paddy Jansen
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