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Poems

Started by betula, November 23, 2008, 17:08:12

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betula

That is very good Pauline.Very talented. :)

betula


betula

#21
THE LISTENERS.........WALTER DE LA MARE

Is there anybody there? said the traveller,
knocking on the moonlit door.
And his horse in the silencechamped the grass
of the forests ferny floor,
And a bird flew up out of the turret,
above the travellers head
And he smote upon the door a second time
Is there anybody there ?he said
But no one descended to the traveller
No head from the leaf fringed sill
Leaned over and looked into his grey eyes
Where he stood perplexed and still
But only a host of phantom listeners
That dwelt in the lone house then
stood listening in the quiet of the moonlight
To that voice from the world of men.
Stood thonging the faint moonbeams on the dark stair
that goes down to the empty hall
Hearkening in an air stirred and shaken
By the lonely travellers call
And he felt in his heart their strangeness
Their stillness answering his cry
While his horse moved cropping the dark turf
Neath the starred and leafy sky,
For he suddenly smote on the door,even louder and lifted his head
Tell them I came,and no one answered
That I kept my word he said
Never the least stir made the listeners
Though every word he spake
Fell echoing through the shadowiness of the still house
From the one man left awake
Ay,they heard his foot upon the stirrup,
and the sound of iron on stone,
And how the silence surged softly backward
when the plunging hoofs were gone.

Jeannine

Poems.. not poem.

The book. A Child's Garden of Verses..my absolute fave as a child and a book I have given to children so amy times over the years I have totally lost count, certainly 3 figures.

Fave from it.

Would have to be  ..................................... oh cannot choose.

XX Jeannine
When God blesses you with a multitude of seeds double  the blessing by sharing your  seeds with other folks.

Emagggie

Oh please choose one J.
Smile, it confuses people.

betula

WARNING BY JENNY JOSEPH

When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
with a red hat that doesent go and doesent suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals and say we've no money for butter.
I shall sit on the pavement when I,m tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells

And run my stick along public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick the flowers in other people's gardens

And learn to spit.

You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go
Or only bread and pickle for a week
And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes.

But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.

But maybe I ought to practise a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old and start to wear purple.

SamLouise

I had some of my poetry published a few years back but I haven't written any for quite a while.  I always mean to get back to it but I never seem to make the time.  I didn't even buy the books my work appeared in, LOL! 

I'll put a couple of my favourites up later when I get home from work (not written by me but just a couple that I like very much)


manicscousers

another of my favourites, but I'm predjudiced  ;D

The Lady in the Cave..

Although my cave is open, why do you step inside?

For now you'll see the depths of me, the caverns that I hide,

as my cave is not the home of one of purity and strength,

it echos with the screams of youth I've villified at length.



Yet in confidence you step into a pool of hidden grains

of sand, like blood, that trickles through a maze of swollen veins,

fearlessly you step across the rocks my life will throw

and dig for mindless memories I've buried deep below.



My seaweed spreads in ignorance to hide the tarnished face

of piles of broken rocks, each its waste of space.

You lift them, you tend to them, you show them where to hide,

You calm the helpless memories in which my fear reside.



You stride through pouring water, salt tints its taste,

that flows with my emotions, yet some still goes to waste

hidden in blocked dungeons none will live to see,

pressed against the rockfalls from tremors deep in me.



You caress my favorite place in mind, your music is a kiss

that shakes in its ferocity and leaves my heart in bliss.

You massage my mental muscles with your familiar hands,

the touch a whole world in torment understands.



Your chuckle echos through the dark and sings a happy tune

to every icy stalagmite, every crumbling dune,

your laughter fights the whirlwind that twists through the cave,

it bats away the sandstorm and quells the crashing wave.



You sit and you rest yourself as dark the road ahead,

it's darkness is the consequence of all the tears I've shed.

You stand and you take the path none but I can face,

all needles from my haystack are buried in this place.



Devoid of all but silence, this my deepest hole,

it sucks from me the memories that de-hydrate my soul,

its floor a jumbled mess, a half-life of bones,

tossed in fearful haste amongst the slimy stones.



You strip your mental clothing and stand before my eye

and one by one my nightmares crumble up and die.

For once there is a person that sees me in full sight,

who fills my cave with brightness, fills my mind with light.



You shower in the torrent that splashes out my pain

to save me from self-hatred and make me love again.

You bathe in the waterfall that pours out my sorrow

to take away my yesterday and gift me my tomorrow.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

By: Alan Brooke
© Alan Brooke, All rights reserved.



flossy



   Thanks RT,  I'll do that   :-*

   Have written a couple myself, I'm a bit shy and another excuse is I really can't think

   where I've put them    :(

   floss xxx
Hertfordshire,   south east England

ACE

Aaaaargh, I have just been sick.



flossy



  Thats a conversation stopper Ace ?

  For why   :o

  floss
Hertfordshire,   south east England

betula

Take no notice of ACE .He is not cultured and sensitive like us. ::)

Manics I really enjoyed that poem.In fact I have enjoyed all of them.

Hope we are going to get some more on the thread. :)

Emagggie

Me too, that is a BIG talent.
Smile, it confuses people.

betula

LONE DOG

I,m a lean dog,a keen dog,a wild dog and lone,
I,m a rough dog a tough dog ,hunting on my own!
I'm a bad dog,a mad dog,teasing silly sheep,
I love to sit and bay the moon and keep fat souls from sleep.

I'll never be a lap dog,licking dirty feet,
A sleek dog,a meek dog cringing for my meat.
Not for me the fireside, the well filled plate,
But shut door and sharp stone and cuff and kick and hate.

Not for me the other dogs,running by my side,
Some have run a short while,but none of them would bide
O mine is still the lone trail,the hard trail the best,
Wide wind and wild stars and hunger for the quest.

IRENE McLeod.

My mum learnt this at school when she was a child,now in her seventies she is still word perfect :)

Emagggie

I am also fond of Wendy Cope. Here's a short one to make you smile.
                 Loss.
The day he moved out was terrible,
That evening she went through hell.
His absence wasn't a problem
But the corkscrew had gone as well.
Smile, it confuses people.

manicscousers

that one made me laugh  ;D
and I love warning, I've already started, got myself some purple nail polish  ;D

asbean

I remember it !!!  :) :) :)
The Tuscan Beaneater

flossy



   Found one !  here goes,

           The black cat purred and clenched her toes, in mock attempt
            at washing clothes,
            Her thundering song that went along, with pounding paws
            and blinkered eyes,
            She made her bed with heart felt sighs.

            I am black and ' lucky ' -  she mused upon the old wives tails
            bestowed thereon,
            All cats like me with coats like jet, to 'cross a path'
            though never met

             At last she sank to stretch a while, into her bed with feline style
             and to dream of her next feed,
             I am a ' lucky' cat indeed !

             floss xxx
Hertfordshire,   south east England

betula

That's,s good Floss.

It really is a nice observation on cat behaviour and their possible thoughts :)

flossy


  Fankee betula,  [ tales -- tails  , grief !!!  ]    :-[

  floss x
Hertfordshire,   south east England

flossy

 


   Can I make a poem suggestion ?

   That we start a poem of our own, that every one can add to !

   Would be fun - we could pick a subject then off we go ?

   floss xxx
Hertfordshire,   south east England

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