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He that sows shall also reap.

Persian proverbs
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We The Cats

And the time is right
And tonight's the night
Alreed-alright
Come on, old man, come on
We the cats shall hep ya
So reap this righteous riff
Here's the beat to hep ya
So reap this righteous riff
Well, you gotta come on like gi's
You dig the repeat with me and sigh
Put it right on the lee high
Then you can really get by, oh my
We the cats shall hep ya
So reap this righteous riff
Now you're hep i'll betcha
So reap this righteous riff
Well, we the cats shall hep ya
So reap this righteous riff
Here's the beat to hep ya
So reap this righteous riff
Well, you gotta come on like gi's
You dig the repeat with me and sigh
Put it right on the lee high
Then you can really get by, oh my
We the cats shall hep ya
So reap this righteous riff
Now you're hep i'll betcha
So reap this righteous riff
Well, we the cats shall hep ya
So reap this righteous riff
Here's the beat to hep ya
So reap this righteous riff
Well, you gotta come on like gi's
You dig the repeat with me and sigh
Put it right on the lee high
Then you can really get by, oh my
We the cats shall hep ya
So reap this righteous riff
Now you're hep i'll betcha
Skibble-de-dooba
Skibble-de-boy-boy
Skibble-de-reeba
This righteous, this righteous riff

song performed by Joe Jackson
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We The Cats (Shall Hep Ya)

(words and music by Cab Calloway and Jack Palmer)
And the time is right
And tonight's the night
Alreed-alright
Come on, old man, come on
We the cats shall hep ya
So reap this righteous riff
Here's the beat to hep ya
So reap this righteous riff
Well, you gotta come on like GI's
You dig the repeat with me and sigh
Put it right on the lee high
Then you can really get by, oh my
We the cats shall hep ya
So reap this righteous riff
Now you're hep I'll betcha
So reap this righteous riff
Well, we the cats shall hep ya
So reap this righteous riff
Here's the beat to hep ya
So reap this righteous riff
Well, you gotta come on like GI's
You dig the repeat with me and sigh
Put it right on the lee high
Then you can really get by, oh my
We the cats shall hep ya
So reap this righteous riff
Now you're hep I'll betcha
So reap this righteous riff
(instrumnetal break)
Well, we the cats shall hep ya
So reap this righteous riff
Here's the beat to hep ya
So reap this righteous riff
Well, you gotta come on like GI's
You dig the repeat with me and sigh
Put it right on the lee high
Then you can really get by, oh my
We the cats shall hep ya
So reap this righteous riff
Now you're hep I'll betcha
Skibble-de-dooba
Skibble-de-boy-boy
Skibble-de-reeba
This righteous, this righteous riff

song performed by Joe Jackson
Added by Lucian Velea
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Messidor

Put in the sickles and reap;
For the morning of harvest is red,
And the long large ranks of the corn
Coloured and clothed as the morn
Stand thick in the fields and deep
For them that faint to be fed.
Let all that hunger and weep
Come hither, and who would have bread
Put in the sickles and reap.

Coloured and clothed as the morn,
The grain grows ruddier than gold,
And the good strong sun is alight
In the mists of the day-dawn white,
And the crescent, a faint sharp horn,
In the fear of his face turns cold
As the snakes of the night-time that creep
From the flag of our faith unrolled.
Put in the sickles and reap.

In the mists of the day-dawn white
That roll round the morning star,
The large flame lightens and grows
Till the red-gold harvest-rows,
Full-grown, are full of the light
As the spirits of strong men are,
Crying, Who shall slumber or sleep?
Who put back morning or mar?
Put in the sickles and reap.

Till the red-gold harvest-rows
For miles through shudder and shine
In the wind's breath, fed with the sun,
A thousand spear-heads as one
Bowed as for battle to close
Line in rank against line
With place and station to keep
Till all men's hands at a sign
Put in the sickles and reap.

A thousand spear-heads as one
Wave as with swing of the sea
When the mid tide sways at its height;
For the hour is for harvest or fight
In face of the just calm sun,
As the signal in season may be
And the lot in the helm may leap
When chance shall shake it; but ye,
Put in the sickles and reap.

[...] Read more

poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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Perfect Day

Just a perfect day..
Drink sangria in the park
And later, when it gets dark
We go home
Just a perfect day..
Feed animals in the zoo
And later, a movie too
And then home
Its such a perfect day
Im glad I spent it with you
Such a perfect day
You just keep me hanging on..
You just keep me hanging on..
Just a perfect day..
Problems all left alone
Weekenders on our own
Such fun
Just a perfect day
You made me forget myself
I thought I was someone else
Someone new
(chorus)
-
Youre gonna reap, just what you sow.
Youre gonna reap, just what you sow.
Youre gonna reap, just what you sow.
Youre gonna reap, just what you sow.
Youre gonna reap, just what you sow.
Youre gonna reap, just what you sow.

song performed by Duran Duran
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I can EMIT TIME

'I Can! ' EMIT TIME
Kindly Refer to Notes

.

.

This retourne shows how Time bright glows,
Inspiring plan Life offers man,
Maintains red rose, sustains verse, prose,
Egg, chicken, span, - ensure ‘I can! ’

TIME’s sum’s not dumb, repeating drum
Inspiring plan Life offers man,
May link ‘become’ through rule of thumb
EMIT true scan light once began.

The heart that sows is star that glows
In tune reel ran fed through rhyme’s fan,
Maintains red rose, sustains verse, prose,
Ends in well ran, begins “I can! ”

Time’s reel ebbs, flows, all comes and goes,
In caravan reversing scan
Much magic flows, touch insight knows,
Egg, chicken, span, - ensure ‘I can! ’

.

Egg, chicken, span, - ensure ‘I can! ’
Much magic flows, touch insight knows,
In caravan reversing scan, -
Time’s reel ebbs, flows, all comes and goes.

Ends in well ran, begins “I can! ”
Maintains red rose, sustains verse, prose,
In tune reel ran fed through rhyme’s fan, -
The heart that sows is star that glows.

[...] Read more

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Bible in Poetry: Galatians 6

Doing Good to All:

If one is caught in web of sin,
Restore him gently; be alert;
You yourself may be tempted then,
Although you are more spiritual.

Carry one another’s burdens,
Fulfilling commandment of Christ;
If you think you are someone great,
Although you aren’t, you are deceived;

Each one should test his own actions;
Each one should carry his own load;
Do not compare oneself to next;
Do not nurture pride within you.

The one who receives instruction
In the word, must share all good things
With his instructor with frankness;

You can’t mock at the Creator;
Whatev’r a man sows, he will reap;
If you please your sinful nature,
Destruction will come from the same;
He who sows to please the Spirit,
Will get eternal life from it.

In doing good, don’t be wearied;
We’ll reap a harvest at right time;
Whenev’r you get the chance, do good
To all, more so to believers.

Not circumcision but New Creation:

I write in my own hand to you,
In large letters:

Those who want to impress others,
Compel you to be circumcised;
This is to just avoid being
Persecuted for Jesus Christ;
The circumcised obey not law
Yet, want you to be circumcised,
So as to boast about your flesh.

May I boast never except in
The cross of Christ through which the world,
And I have been crucified;
Circumcision means nothing yet.

[...] Read more

poem by John Celes
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Unveiled And Uncovered

Plow in hope and sow in tears,
For he who sows bountifully will reap bountifully;
This is like law, order, peace and calmness,
But my love is now unveiled and uncovered to you.

To the land of oil,
To the land of tomatoes,
To the land of oranges,
To the land of onions,
To the land of pepper,
To the land of coconuts,
But enslaved under the elements of the world!
And my love is now unveiled and uncovered to you.

Have i become your enemy by telling you the truth? !
Then think twice before you close that door;
For she who sows bountifully will reap bountifully.

To the land of beauty,
To the land of romance,
To the land of peace,
To the land of emotions,
To the land of love,
To the land of passion,
And with no stumbling blocks to my success! !
For the seeds are now well planted to yield a bumper harvest.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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God's Poet Tom Zart

GOD'S POET TOM ZART!

The Lord can close doors no man can open
And open doors no man can close.
It's up to us to prove our heavenly worth
By our lifetime example of the path we chose.

PROVIDE, PROTECT, LOVE & FULFILL

I recall all God's miracles, intrusions and blessings
He has always faithfully provided for me.
Too often, we remember what we should forget
Disappointment, hurt, failure or disobedience to Thee.

Live your life as a memorial to forgiveness and love
To remind people of your willingness to serve.
Celebrate your victories, success and joy
For a God who gives more than we earn or deserve.

Whether life is going well or collapsing before our eyes
We all wish to be better at protecting what we love.
Being better encourages us to be more like God our Father
Who sows His seeds of greatness to us from above.

Becoming better is all about growing, learning and improving
By the more we serve and connect to God's Will.
We expand our horizons for trust, wisdom and thought
Allowing us to improve, provide, protect, love and fulfill!

GOD'S FRUIT OF LOVE

Waiting on God can be a tricky business
Full of temptations, blessings, heartbreak and sin.
What we need are eyes to see and ears to hear
God's instructions of how to serve, commit and begin.

Are we prepared to reap God's spiritual fruit of love
Or are we still victims of the weeds of destruction.
Whoever sows to their own flesh and evil desires
Will reap sorrow, weakness and corruption.

Take heart and encourage by the words of our Lord
For you are never truly lost, without love or alone.
Stay true to your calling and serve God's purpose
As the seeds of your lifetime are sown.

GOD'S LOVE, FORGIVENESS & GLORY

Knowing God's Love is unconditional and in control
Changes everything, even our suffering and pain.

[...] Read more

poem by Tom Zart
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A Tenant of Mrs. Van Kleeck

Translation of a letter from a tenant of Mrs. Van Kleeck to that lady, dated January 9, 1787

My very good landlady, Mistress Van Kleeck,
(For the tears that o'erwhelm me I scarcely can speak)
I know that I promis'd you hogs two or three
(But who knows his destiny? Certain not me!)
That I promis'd three hogs I don't mean to deny
(I can prove that I had five or six upon sty.)
Three hogs did I say? Three sows I say then
'Pon honour I ne'er had a male upon pen.

Well Madam, the long and the short of the clatter
For mumbling & mincing will not better the matter;
And murder and truth, my dear mammy wd say
By some means or other forever saw day;
And Daddy himself, as we chop'd in the wood,
Would often observe that lying wasn't good.
Tell truth, my sweet fellow, no matter who feels it,
It ne'er can do hurt to the man who reveals it.
But stop! While my Daddy and Mammy's the subject
I am running aside the original object --
The sows, my sweet madam, the sows I repeat,
Which you and your household expected to eat,
Instead of attending their corn and their swill
Gave way to an ugly he-sow's wicked will.
When 'twill end your good ladyship need not be told,
For Nature is still as she hath been of old,
And when he cries YES mortal may not cry NO -
So Madam, farewell, with my holliday bow.

poem by Major Henry Livingston Jr.
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The law of harvest is to reap more than you sow. Sow an act, and you reap a habit. Sow a habit and you reap a character. Sow a character and you reap a destiny.

quote by James Allen
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Perfect Day

Just a perfect day,
Drink sangria in the park,
And then later, when it gets dark,
We go home.
Just a perfect day,
Feed animals in the zoo
Then later, a movie, too,
And then home.
Oh its such a perfect day,
Im glad I spent it with you.
Oh such a perfect day,
You just keep me hanging on,
You just keep me hanging on.
Just a perfect day,
Problems all left alone,
Weekenders on our own.
Its such fun.
Just a perfect day,
You made me forget myself.
I thought I was someone else,
Someone good.
Oh its such a perfect day,
Im glad I spent it with you.
Oh such a perfect day,
You just keep me hanging on,
You just keep me hanging on.
Youre going to reap just what you sow,
Youre going to reap just what you sow,
Youre going to reap just what you sow,
Youre going to reap just what you sow...

song performed by Lou Reed
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The Grim Reaper

The Grim Reaper will for sure, gather men who deny The Lord,
He will soon come without delay, taking unbelieving men away.
They’ll be taken and put aside, for it was The Lord, they denied.
Separated per their own desire; to be cast into the Lake of Fire.

Men shall reap what they sow; this is something all men know.
Deny God by human deduction, you will reap eternal destruction.
If you choose to accept The Lord, you will reap Eternal Reward.
The end result you will receive, for God is one you can’t deceive.

The Lord will not force your hand, but will help you to understand,
That Christ, who died upon a tree, is coming back for you and me.
First it’ll be to the clouds above, for those who received His Love.
Then down to the earth in victory, over those who refused to see.

But there is still an open door, and time to accept Christ as Lord.
And any time in any season, God with you, would like to reason,
That through His Only Son, your victory over sin has been won.
And that through Jesus Christ, you friend can have the gift of life.

Although I was once deceived, God’s Spirit spoke and I believed.
God then gave me eyes to see, now in Christ I will reap Eternity.
God wants no one to perish, and His Son He gave us to cherish.
But if you want not to believe, the Grim Reaper is who you’ll see.

poem by Bob Gotti
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Childe Harold's Pilgrimage: A Romaunt. Canto IV.

I.
I stood in Venice, on the Bridge of Sighs;
A palace and a prison on each hand:
I saw from out the wave her structures rise
As from the stroke of the enchanter's wand:
A thousand years their cloudy wings expand
Around me, and a dying Glory smiles
O'er the far times, when many a subject land
Look'd to the winged Lion's marble piles,
Where Venice sate in state, thron'd on her hundred isles!

II.
She looks a sea Cybele, fresh from ocean,
Rising with her tiara of proud towers
At airy distance, with majestic motion,
A ruler of the waters and their powers:
And such she was; her daughters had their dowers
From spoils of nations, and the exhaustless East
Pour'd in her lap all gems in sparkling showers.
In purple was she rob'd, and of her feast
Monarchs partook, and deem'd their dignity increas'd.

III.
In Venice Tasso's echoes are no more,
And silent rows the songless gondolier;
Her palaces are crumbling to the shore,
And music meets not always now the ear:
Those days are gone -- but Beauty still is here.
States fall, arts fade -- but Nature doth not die,
Nor yet forget how Venice once was dear,
The pleasant place of all festivity,
The revel of the earth, the masque of Italy!

IV.
But unto us she hath a spell beyond
Her name in story, and her long array
Of mighty shadows, whose dim forms despond
Above the dogeless city's vanish'd sway;
Ours is a trophy which will not decay
With the Rialto; Shylock and the Moor,
And Pierre, cannot be swept or worn away --
The keystones of the arch! though all were o'er,
For us repeopl'd were the solitary shore.

V.
The beings of the mind are not of clay;
Essentially immortal, they create
And multiply in us a brighter ray
And more belov'd existence: that which Fate
Prohibits to dull life, in this our state

[...] Read more

poem by Byron
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Dreamworks

DREAMWORKS
Eyes saw reflection Monday, when World War II was won,
emerging, letters learning, to betters bowed, begun
a journey spread like butter upon life’s bread, which seems
to be about to stutter before landlord of dreams.

Eye Tuesday schooled, life's masquerade began to understand
how letters strung together rung bells brain took in hand,
soft strength no bitter toil required to channel patterned streams,
blood flood no rudder needed to feed forever's dreams.

Eyes which advanced one Wednesday upon emotions’ tide
to woo, to win, together, as groom to beauty bride,
felt joys would last for ever, like strawberries and cream,
tapped hope's sap, never'd sever eternity from dreams.

Eyes which in turn one Thursday sired fruit so well desired,
who queried much, yet stayed untouched by vain ambitions tired,
felt feelings frank, not clever, that seek 'together's' gleams,
to sow, reap, harvest, gather the essence of shared dreams.

Eyes which Friday celebrate, see seed to stripling strong
stretch skywards, never hesitate, sift just from wrong's pronged tongs,
subjective views eliminate, zest tests through searchlight beams,
shows all may know glow grows, fair flows, to feed tomorrow’s dreams.

Eyes weary on this Saturday sense Winter drawing near,
reach through rhyme’s interplay to transmit loud and clear
before Time’s ‘weak~end’ weather may ravage, mock soul’s gleams,
this theme: ~ that one should never compromise on dreams.

Eyes which one Sunday may pass away, life legacy would leave:
ideals unbetrayed, pray none know poison, prison, grieve.
Life's cycle turns as candle burns, warms all within its beams, ~
road cats' eyes snake, make no mistake, tomorrow takes your dreams...

9 May 2005 minor modifications 21 April 2008 revised 30 April 2008,8 March 2011

for previous versions see below

DREAMWORKS

Eyes saw first light one Monday, when World War II was won,
emerging, letters learning, to betters bowed, begun
a journey spread like butter upon life’s bread, which seems
to be about to stutter before landlord of dreams.

Eyes which were schooled one Tuesday began to understand
how letters strung together rung bells brain took in hand,
soft strength no conscious effort to channel patterned streams

[...] Read more

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Thrown Into This World

he may have been thrown into this world
complaining that this matter is without his
consent and he may walk like he does not
belong and would not speak their language
or adopt to their dance and songs. He may
just stand there and watch and tell that he
does not like everyone and everything and
not gain any confidence from anyone and
he may just be a nobody but a protester.
Sadly, he is thrown into this world and
Gladly, he shall be thrown out. He reaps
what he sows. He sows dislike he shall
reap disgust and that is fair enough.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Odyssey: Book 14

Ulysses now left the haven, and took the rough track up through
the wooded country and over the crest of the mountain till he
reached the place where Minerva had said that he would find the
swineherd, who was the most thrifty servant he had. He found him
sitting in front of his hut, which was by the yards that he had
built on a site which could be seen from far. He had made them
spacious and fair to see, with a free ran for the pigs all round them;
he had built them during his master's absence, of stones which he
had gathered out of the ground, without saying anything to Penelope or
Laertes, and he had fenced them on top with thorn bushes. Outside
the yard he had run a strong fence of oaken posts, split, and set
pretty close together, while inside lie had built twelve sties near
one another for the sows to lie in. There were fifty pigs wallowing in
each sty, all of them breeding sows; but the boars slept outside and
were much fewer in number, for the suitors kept on eating them, and
die swineherd had to send them the best he had continually. There were
three hundred and sixty boar pigs, and the herdsman's four hounds,
which were as fierce as wolves, slept always with them. The
swineherd was at that moment cutting out a pair of sandals from a good
stout ox hide. Three of his men were out herding the pigs in one place
or another, and he had sent the fourth to town with a boar that he had
been forced to send the suitors that they might sacrifice it and
have their fill of meat.
When the hounds saw Ulysses they set up a furious barking and flew
at him, but Ulysses was cunning enough to sit down and loose his
hold of the stick that he had in his hand: still, he would have been
torn by them in his own homestead had not the swineherd dropped his ox
hide, rushed full speed through the gate of the yard and driven the
dogs off by shouting and throwing stones at them. Then he said to
Ulysses, "Old man, the dogs were likely to have made short work of
you, and then you would have got me into trouble. The gods have
given me quite enough worries without that, for I have lost the best
of masters, and am in continual grief on his account. I have to attend
swine for other people to eat, while he, if he yet lives to see the
light of day, is starving in some distant land. But come inside, and
when you have had your fill of bread and wine, tell me where you
come from, and all about your misfortunes."
On this the swineherd led the way into the hut and bade him sit
down. He strewed a good thick bed of rushes upon the floor, and on the
top of this he threw the shaggy chamois skin- a great thick one- on
which he used to sleep by night. Ulysses was pleased at being made
thus welcome, and said "May Jove, sir, and the rest of the gods
grant you your heart's desire in return for the kind way in which
you have received me."
To this you answered, O swineherd Eumaeus, "Stranger, though a still
poorer man should come here, it would not be right for me to insult
him, for all strangers and beggars are from Jove. You must take what
you can get and be thankful, for servants live in fear when they
have young lords for their masters; and this is my misfortune now, for
heaven has hindered the return of him who would have been always

[...] Read more

poem by Homer, translated by Samuel Butler
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If a man plants melons he will reap melons; if he sows beans, he will reap beans.

Chinese proverbs
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Infallible

'Aidabella',
I have been too long in the rain!
So break down the walls and,
Take my love around to feel the difference.

Infallible truths,
Infallible proofs,
And like a new love;
But i am from the land of phones and,
I have no phone.

A new tomato,
A new potato,
A new creation!
Sow in tears and reap in joy.

Your zeal has stirred up the majority,
But he who sows sparingly will also reap sparingly!
And i am here to share my love with you.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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A Farmhouse Dirge

Will you walk with me to the brow of the hill, to visit the farmer's wife,
Whose daughter lies in the churchyard now, eased of the ache of life?
Half a mile by the winding lane, another half to the top:
There you may lean o'er the gate and rest; she will want me awhile to stop,
Stop and talk of her girl that is gone and no more will wake or weep,
Or to listen rather, for sorrow loves to babble its pain to sleep.

How thick with acorns the ground is strewn, rent from their cups and brown!
How the golden leaves of the windless elms come singly fluttering down!
The briony hangs in the thinning hedge, as russet as harvest corn,
The straggling blackberries glisten jet, the haws are red on the thorn;
The clematis smells no more but lifts its gossamer weight on high;-
If you only gazed on the year, you would think how beautiful 'tis to die.

The stream scarce flows underneath the bridge; they have dropped the sluice of the mill;
The roach bask deep in the pool above, and the water-wheel is still.
The meal lies quiet on bin and floor; and here where the deep banks wind,
The water-mosses nor sway nor bend, so nothing seems left behind.
If the wheels of life would but sometimes stop, and the grinding awhile would cease,
'Twere so sweet to have, without dying quite, just a spell of autumn peace.

Cottages four, two new, two old, each with its clambering rose:
Lath and plaster and weather tiles these, brick faced with stone are those.
Two crouch low from the wind and the rain, and tell of the humbler days,
Whilst the other pair stand up and stare with a self-asserting gaze;
But I warrant you'd find the old as snug as the new did you lift the latch,
For the human heart keeps no whit more warm under slate than beneath the thatch.

Tenants of two of them work for me, punctual, sober, true;
I often wish that I did as well the work I have got to do.
Think not to pity their lowly lot, nor wish that their thoughts soared higher;
The canker comes on the garden rose, and not on the wilding brier.
Doubt and gloom are not theirs and so they but work and love, they live
Rich in the only valid boons that life can withhold or give.

Here is the railway bridge, and see how straight do the bright lines keep,
With pheasant copses on either side, or pastures of quiet sheep.
The big loud city lies far away, far too is the cliffbound shore,
But the trains that travel betwixt them seem as if burdened with their roar.
Yet, quickly they pass, and leave no trace, not the echo e'en of their noise:
Don't you think that silence and stillness are the sweetest of all our joys?

Lo! yonder the Farm, and these the ruts that the broad-wheeled wains have worn,
As they bore up the hill the faggots sere, or the mellow shocks of corn.
The hops are gathered, the twisted bines now brown on the brown clods lie,
And nothing of all man sowed to reap is seen betwixt earth and sky.
Year after year doth the harvest come, though at summer's and beauty's cost:
One can only hope, when our lives grow bare, some reap what our hearts have lost.

[...] Read more

poem by Alfred Austin
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The Spirit or The Flesh

Friend are you filled with the Spirit or are you living in the flesh?
For one life leads to Eternal Life and the other to Eternal Death.
Friend God is not mocked and whatever a man sows he will reap,
And this present life will soon end but God offers life you can keep.

If you live to please the Spirit you shall reap Eternal Life friend,
If you live to please the flesh eternal destruction will be your end.
However, walk in the Spirit you won't fulfill the lust of the flesh,
This leads to Eternal Life and you won't be hurt by the second death.

The flesh is the sinful nature that ruled before you truly believed,
It is propagated by Satan who had you blinded and totally deceived.
The Spirit filled life is the goal for all who have truly believed.
Then your life's direction changes lead by the Spirit you received.

It was the sinful nature that darkened the old path you used to trod,
And everyone who lives like this will not inherit the kingdom of God.
But the fruit of the Spirit, for the Church creates a holy oneness,
This life leads to Heaven through Christ's blood and Righteousness.

God does not speak above you my friend but is quite frank and level,
And He says that if you continue in sin you're a child of the devil.
But when we walk in the Spirit of Truth filled with His joy and Love,
It's God's mark that we are children of God, truly born from above.

Copyright ©11/2003

poem by Bob Gotti
Added by Poetry Lover
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