The Moon is a Fingernail
The Moon is a fingernail sliver in the sky
A clipping chewed off a finger, sheered from a finger in the sky
Related quotes
Margaret's Bridal Eve
I
The old grey mother she thrummed on her knee:
There is a rose that's ready;
And which of the handsome young men shall it be?
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
My daughter, come hither, come hither to me:
There is a rose that's ready;
Come, point me your finger on him that you see:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
O mother, my mother, it never can be:
There is a rose that's ready;
For I shall bring shame on the man marries me:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
Now let your tongue be deep as the sea:
There is a rose that's ready;
And the man'll jump for you, right briskly will he:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
Tall Margaret wept bitterly:
There is a rose that's ready;
And as her parent bade did she:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
O the handsome young man dropped down on his knee:
There is a rose that's ready;
Pale Margaret gave him her hand, woe's me!
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
II
O mother, my mother, this thing I must say:
There is a rose in the garden;
Ere he lies on the breast where that other lay:
And the bird sings over the roses.
Now, folly, my daughter, for men are men:
There is a rose in the garden;
You marry them blindfold, I tell you again:
And the bird sings over the roses.
O mother, but when he kisses me!
There is a rose in the garden;
My child, 'tis which shall sweetest be!
And the bird sings over the roses.
O mother, but when I awake in the morn!
[...] Read more
poem by George Meredith
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
[9] O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!
O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!
[LOVE POEMS]
POET: MAHENDRA BHATNAGAR
POEMS
1 Passion And Compassion / 1
2 Affection
3 Willing To Live
4 Passion And Compassion / 2
5 Boon
6 Remembrance
7 Pretext
8 To A Distant Person
9 Perception
10 Conclusion
10 You (1)
11 Symbol
12 You (2)
13 In Vain
14 One Night
15 Suddenly
16 Meeting
17 Touch
18 Face To Face
19 Co-Traveller
20 Once And Once only
21 Touchstone
22 In Chorus
23 Good Omens
24 Even Then
25 An Evening At ‘Tighiraa’ (1)
26 An Evening At ‘Tighiraa’ (2)
27 Life Aspirant
28 To The Condemned Woman
29 A Submission
30 At Midday
31 I Accept
32 Who Are You?
33 Solicitation
34 Accept Me
35 Again After Ages …
36 Day-Dreaming
37 Who Are You?
38 You Embellished In Song
[...] Read more
poem by Mahendra Bhatnagar
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
The Baldness Of Chewed-Ear
When Chewed-ear Jenkins got hitched up to Guinneyveer McGee,
His flowin' locks, ye recollect, wuz frivolous an' free;
But in old Hymen's jack-pot, it's a most amazin' thing,
Them flowin' locks jest disappeared like snow-balls in the Spring;
Jest seemed to wilt an' fade away like dead leaves in the Fall,
An' left old Chewed-ear balder than a white-washed cannon ball.
Now Missis Chewed-ear Jenkins, that wuz Guinneyveer McGee,
Wuz jest about as fine a draw as ever made a pair;
But when the boys got joshin' an' suggested it was she
That must be inflooenshul for the old man's slump in hair --
Why! Missis Chewed-ear Jenkins jest went clean up in the air.
"To demonstrate," sez she that night, "the lovin' wife I am,
I've bought a dozen bottles of Bink's Anty-Dandruff Balm.
'Twill make yer hair jest sprout an' curl like squash-vines in the sun,
An' I'm propose to sling it on till every drop is done."
That hit old Chewed-ear's funny side, so he lays back an' hollers:
"The day you raise a hair, old girl, you'll git a thousand dollars."
Now, whether 'twas the prize or not 'tis mighty hard to say,
But Chewed-ear didn't seem to have much comfort from that day.
With bottles of that dandruff dope she followed at his heels,
An' sprinkled an' massaged him even when he ate his meals.
She waked him from his beauty sleep with tender, lovin' care,
An' rubbed an' scrubbed assiduous, yet never sign of hair.
Well, naturally all the boys soon tumbled to the joke,
An' at the Wow-wow's Social 'twas Cold-deck Davis spoke:
"The little woman's working mighty hard on Chewed-ear's crown;
Let's give her for a three-fifth's share a hundred dollars down.
We stand to make five hundred clear -- boys, drink in whiskey straight:
`The Chewed-ear Jenkins Hirsute Propagation Syndicate'."
The boys wuz on, an' soon chipped in the necessary dust;
They primed up a committy to negotiate the deal;
Then Missis Jenkins yielded, bein' rather in disgust,
An' all wuz signed an' witnessed, an' invested with a seal.
They rounded up old Chewed-ear, an' they broke it what they'd done;
Allowed they'd bought an interest in his chance of raisin' hair;
They yanked his hat off anxiouslike, opinin' one by one
Their magnifyin' glasses showed fine prospects everywhere.
They bought Hairlene, an' Thatchem, an' Jay's Capillery Juice,
An' Seven Something Sisters, an' Macassar an' Bay Rum,
An' everyone insisted on his speshul right to sluice
His speshul line of lotion onto Chewed-ear's cranium.
They only got the merrier the more the old man roared,
An' shares in "Jenkins Hirsute" went sky-highin' on the board.
The Syndicate wuz hopeful that they'd demonstrate the pay,
[...] Read more
poem by Robert William Service
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Nestling
When to summon the sky
Little nestling?
When to summon the sky?
And suffer the risk - abscond in dread -
The knowledge of sort that you'll be dead
Upon a calamitous fall;
Or taken in flight - a hawkish pounce -
Demolished as prey; your fate pronounce
You gone, and to never recall.
O when to summon the sky
Little nestling?
When to summon the sky?
Aborting a den with
Feathered bed,
Unwavering mother who
Saw you fed -
Surrendering all so
You may spread
Your reach of tentative wings!
‘Tis only instinct -
E'er the reason -
Forging life:
The Nesting Season
And the trials it brings.
So up and summon the sky
Little nestling,
Up! and summon the sky!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
[...] Read more
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Quintetto
[To the tune of "Turning, turning, turning, as wheel goes round."]
RECITATIVE. MR. PAPERSTAMP:
Jack Horner's CHRISTMAS PIE my learned nurse
Interpreted to mean the public purse.
From thence a plum he drew. O happy Horner!
Who would not be ensconced in thy snug corner
THE FIVE:
While round the public board all eagerly we linger,
for what we can get we will try, try, try:
And we'll all have a finger, a finger, a finger,
We'll all have a finger in the CHRISTMAS PIE.
MR. FEATHERNEST:
By my own poetic laws, I'm a dealer in applause
For those who don't deserve it, but will buy, buy
So round the court I linger, and thus I get a finget
A finger, finger, finger in the CHRISTMAS PIE.
THE FIVE:
And we'll all have a finger, a finger, a finger,
We'll all have a finger in the CHRISTMAS PIE.
MR. VAMP:
My share of pie to win, I will dash through thick and thin
And philosophy and liberty shall fly, fly, fly:
And truth and taste shall know, that their eve Iasting foe
Has a finger, finger, finger in the CHRISTMAS PIE.
THE FIVE:
And we'll all have a finger, a finger, a finger,
We'll all have a finger in the CHRISTMAS PIE.
MR. KILLTHEDEAD:
I'll make my verses rattle with the din of war and battle,
[...] Read more
poem by Thomas Love Peacock
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Moon, Moon, Crazy Moon
moon, moon, crazy moon
natural moon
torn apart and snoozing moon;
lovely moon, romantic moon
poor poor moon
the romance
plucked out of its drab surface;
moon moon going wild
moon moon running away
from the earth -
O moon, why do you run away from the earth?
does earth touch you in the wrong places
and you've got no Body
to which one could lodge
a complaint about sexual harassment? ?
ah, moon moon, temperamental moon
dark moon
glowing moon;
sexy moon
and old-woman hag of a moon;
moon moon with the best views of the earth
moon moon moon
puts me to sleep and wakes me up
in the middle of nights;
and one day we'll sleep in the moon
and produce babies there
and we'll have the first moon-ish boys and girls
and moon-ly families;
but meanwhile
moon moon driving fanatics
and inspiring love and romance and myths
moon moon eerie moon
moon moon that presides over love and horrors
and evil and good
and naked witches dancing in moonlit groves;
pooor moon moon the earth moon
not as interesting and dramatic as other moons;
don't get too friendly and dropp in -
oh, never dropp in, no one invited you
silly mooonn, no no, you're not invited home to earth
moon moon cheese moon eaten by mice;
but still our dear moon darling moon
moon mooon
our very own earth's moon
as we moo moo like cows
moo moo moo mooo
at our own moon moon moon
poem by Raj Arumugam
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Mr. Moon: A Song of the Little People
O MOON, Mr. Moon,
When you comin' down?
Down on the hilltop,
Down in the glen,
Out in the clearin',
To play with little men?
Moon, Mr. Moon,
When you comin' down?
O Mr. Moon,
Hurry up your stumps!
Don't you hear Bullfrog
Callin' to his wife,
And old black Cricket
A-wheezin' at his fife?
Hurry up your stumps,
And get on your pumps!
Moon, Mr. Moon,
When you comin' down?
O Mr. Moon,
Hurry up along!
The reeds in the current
Are whisperin' slow;
The river's a-wimplin'
To and fro.
Hurry up along,
Or you'll miss the song!
Moon, Mr. Moon,
When you comin' down?
O Mr. Moon,
We're all here!
Honey-bug, Thistledrift,
White-imp, Weird,
Wryface, Billiken,
Quidnunc, Queered;
We're all here,
And the coast is clear!
Moon, Mr. Moon,
When you comin' down?
O Mr. Moon,
We're the little men!
Dewlap, Pussymouse,
Ferntip, Freak,
Drink-again, Shambler,
Talkytalk, Squeak;
Three times ten
Of us little men!
[...] Read more
poem by Bliss William Carman
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
C Moon
C moon c moon c moon is she.
C moon c moon c moon to me.
How come no one older than me
Ever seems to understand the things I wanna to do?
It will be l7 and Id never get to heaven
If I filled my head with glue
Whats it all to you?
C moon, c moon, c moon is she
C moon, c moon, c moon to me
Bobby lived with patty
But they never told her daddy
What their love was all about
She could tell her lover that he thought but
She never was the type to let it out
Whats it all about?
C moon, c moon, oh c moon are we
C moon, c moon, c moon are we
How come no one older than me
Ever seems to understand the things I wanna to do?
It will be l7 and Id never get to heaven
If I filled my head with glue
Whats it all to you?
C moon, c moon, c moon is she
C moon, c moon, c moon to me
Bobby lived with patty
But they never told her daddy
What their love was all about
She could tell her lover that he thought but
She never wanted to let it out
Whats it all about?
C moon, c moon, c moon are we
C moon, c moon, c moon are we
Well whats it all about?
C moon, c moon, c moon are we
C moon are we
song performed by Paul McCartney
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Moon, We Look to You.
Moon, you have a shade of blue tonight –
Is it something that you saw or heard?
Only yesterday, your tone was proud and bright,
Yellow silver, full, and so assured.
Moon, despite the clarity of sky,
Metaphors of cloud that fluff with grey
Drift across your rounded face to spy;
Feeding back, there's awfully much to say.
Moon, you have a role to play up there –
We below must bear the earthly pain.
Duty bound, we shoulder sorrows fair –
You are free from our grotesque disdain.
Moon, we depend on you to shine
When the sun retires down below.
Add to that your grandest role divine:
Tidal Lord, to keep the seas in tow!
Moon, I hope you take to heart our plea –
Needless is the reason for your blue.
Beaming, you should give the night its glee:
We're despairing – so we look to you.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
[...] Read more
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
It's Summer and The People Choose to Feel Loose
Keep it up and finger poppin'.
Until the people say they've had quite enough.
Just keep it up and finger poppin'.
Turn the heat up and let them burn the rug.
Keep it up and finger poppin'.
Don't stop the beat,
When the feet cranks up the fever.
It's Summer and the people choose to feel loose.
With flavor tasted to shake loose a caboose.
And groping sweaty bodies with whomever they choose.
Keep it up and finger poppin'.
Until the people say they've had quite enough.
Just keep it up and finger poppin'.
It's Summer and the people choose to feel loose.
Keep it up and finger poppin'.
With flavor tasted to shake loose a caboose.
Keep it up and finger poppin'.
Don't stop the beat,
When the feet cranks up the fever.
Keep it up and finger poppin'.
Do not stop it when it's rockin'.
It's Summer and the people choose to feel loose.
With flavor tasted to shake loose a caboose.
And groping sweaty bodies with whomever they choose.
Keep it up and finger poppin'.
Keep it up and finger poppin'.
It's Summer and the people choose to feel loose.
Keep it up and finger poppin'.
Keep it up and finger poppin'.
It's Summer and the people choose to feel loose.
Keep it up and finger poppin'.
Keep it up and finger poppin'.
It's Summer and the people choose to feel loose.
Keep it up and finger poppin'.
Keep it up and finger poppin'.
It's Summer and the people choose to feel loose.
Keep it up and finger poppin'.
Do not stop it when it's rockin'.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
The Moon I possessed
The moon in the sky was obliterated by a cluster of ashen Grey clouds,
While the moon standing before me; was as immaculate as freshly extracted milk.
The moon in the sky possessed disdainful blotches of dispersed powder,
While the moon standing abreast my heart; was bereft of even a solitary spot
of dirt on its body.
The moon in the sky was often invaded by a fleet of alien spaceships,
While the moon I held in close proximity; was obsessively mine.
The moon in the sky bestowed its tenacious radiance only in nocturnal hours
of the night,
While the moon caressing my lips; shone brilliantly all sweltering day; as well
as in perpetual dark.
The moon in the sky was often overshadowed by flaming rays of the sun,
While the moon lying down on my toes; stood prominently as the lone survivor
amidst infinite contestants of beauty.
The moon in the sky offered partial relief from the monotonous heat prevailing
in the air,
While the moon smiling parallel to my eyes; pacified all turbulence that arose
in my body.
The moon in the sky changed its shape with the unleashing hour,
While the moon whispering in my intricate ear; harbored the same
silhouette for marathon numbers of years.
The moon in the sky remained impassive as an obdurate stone; even when I
cried,
While the moon nestling beside me in the languid grass; wiped my tears with
sumptuous empathy.
The moon in the sky segregated its love; amongst millions of people residing
on the globe,
While the moon dwelling with me in my house; loved me as much as it feared to
abruptly die.
The moon in the sky didn’t breathe a fraction of air,
While the moon staring at me in due adulation for countless hours; breathed
heavily down my neck.
And did you; know that the moon in the sky was as intangible as the
withered leaf;
While the moon I possessed in entirety in my perception; was living; being the most beautiful girl on this earth.
poem by Nikhil Parekh
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Dear friends, we surely all agree
'Dear friends, we surely all agree
There's almost nothing worse to see
Than some repulsive little bum
Who's always chewing chewing gum.
(It's very near as bad as those
Who sit around and pick the nose).
So please believe us when we say
That chewing gum will never pay;
This sticky habit's bound to send
The chewer to a sticky end.
Did any of you ever know
A person called Miss Bigelow?
This dreadful woman saw no wrong
In chewing, chewing all day long.
She chewed while bathing in the tub,
She chewed while dancing at her club,
She chewed in church and on the bus;
It really was quite ludicrous!
And when she couldn't find her gum,
She'd chew up the linoleum,
Or anything that happened near–
A pair of boots, the postman's ear,
Or other people's underclothes,
And once she chewed her boy friend's nose.
She went on chewing till, at last,
Her chewing muscles grew so vast
That from her face her giant chin
Stuck out just like a violin.
For years and years she chewed away,
Consuming fifty packs a day,
Until one summer's eve, alas,
A horrid business came to pass.
Miss Bigelow went late to bed,
For half an hour she lay and read,
Chewing and chewing all the while
Like some great clockwork crocodile.
At last, she put her gum away
Upon a special little tray,
And settled back and went to sleep–
(She managed this by counting sheep).
But now, how strange! Although she slept,
Those massive jaws of hers still kept
On chewing, chewing through the night,
Even with nothing there to bite.
They were, you see, in such a groove
They positively had to move.
And very grim it was to hear
In pitchy darkness, loud and clear,
This sleeping woman's great big trap
Opening and shutting, snap–snap–snap!
[...] Read more
poem by Roald Dahl
Added by Poetry Lover
1 comment - Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
How to Accompany The Moon Without Walking
Harsh, harsh, the maram grass on the salt dune,
seen by the cricket’s eye against the harbor moon,
anchor-frost and seaward, the lighthouse moon—
the bellbuoy-beating moon, the tiderip bronze
ringing above deep channels and old bones,
the hawsehole moon, where blood and money runs—
foremast and mainmast moon, up harbor still,
island and smokestack moon, and the wind-spill
falling from the sail-throat for the moon to fill—
up harbor, the old wharf moon, the capstan moon,
and round it the capstan bars, the heeling tune,
India Wharf, we'll bring you to Rio soon—
the shipyard moon, the grain-elevator moon,
derrick and gantry, and the turbine croon
sweet under seafoam as a bird in June—
red-warehouse moon, yacht-basin moon, where spars
tangle and telegraph with stays and stars—
hi ho, the queen of accordions and guitars—
ship-chandler moon, sea-boots and Wharf Street shine,
the ropewalk moon that spins in turpentine,
sail-loft invaded with a pour of silver twine—
and high! up spinning! skyscraper tipped on purple!
skyscraper moon, and high! for the stare of people—
skysign and belltower moon, moon for the steeple—
bells breaking bronze, gold, down, the scattered tinkle,
silver-bell moon, cornice and rooftop twinkle,
Christmas and graveyard moon, the tinsel sprinkle—
and dead, the stockyard moon, where blood drips down,
dead longhorn and mute snout; the barrelhouse moon,
moonmusic doubling, rigadoon, jigadoon—
so down, and down, who will be darkened soon,
red and green lights, the pallid airport moon—
ah! on the flying field, the captive balloon!
and cold; for the rim of night, the earth’s black arc,
swings up, blots out the stars, to the last spark;
while, underworld, the moon drowns dead and dark.
poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Moon Moon
When Moon Moon says
In case of me
To be a quite poet is possible
In addition, I have to be a cool.
When Moon Moon says
The days have to face
Good ways
To begin its first hour
To get its special power.
When Moon Moon says
I cannot hear anybody’s voice
When Moon Moon says
I can realize my age
To do something better
Not caring any matter.
When Moon Moon says
I can guess
She says something special
Those are needed for all.
When Moon Moon says
I have to face
Some case in any case.
When Moon Moon says
Sometimes, no case can be found
Without she says, like
“Hi! How are you
For the few
With your near dear
Are there any tears in your eyes?
When she says…”
Man can be silent
Ocean can be island
He can be brilliant
Even
You can be toys
When Moon Moon says.
[...] Read more
poem by Manir Hossain
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Moon poems
1
sometimes I wish
dear moon
sometimes I wish
the earth had five moons
and all so positioned
we can see
one every night and then in twos and in threes
never four (just so for mystery’s sake)
and then all five
all in perfect alignment once a year
just three nights so
and then we’ll all here on earth
go ga ga ga
or moo moo moo looooney
those nights and go crazy
and climb up trees and enact our ape ancestry …
and don’t you be jealous
I asked for four others;
I just want more of you –
just never seem to get enough of you
2
I see you moon
this cool autumn morning
you sing over the river and trees
and you are supported
by your belly-dance troupe of stars
3
ah poor moon
you're just hanging around
and through no fault of your own
you attract all these weirdos
these lunatics
and the vampires and the blood-sucking bats
and the sleep-walkers and murderers
and the flesh-eaters
(the moon made me do it!)
and the lunatics
and the werewolves
and even stock-pickers
and wild women who want to kill Orpheus
O poor moon
[...] Read more
poem by Raj Arumugam
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Me And The Night Moon
since i was achild i was looking for the sky and see the moon in the night and asking my self what is this?
and when i was in my youth and my heart started to be mature i was asking why lovers always speak about the moon?
but suddenly i met her
suddenly i loved her
and suddenly i forgot sleeping
and suddenly i got why the lovers look to the sky and look to the moon
but the new something in my story that iam speaking to the sky moon
like now iam waitting him ooooooh its here
me: -goodevening my friend
the moon: -good evening mr lover
me: -i miss you too much
the moon: -me two my friend
me: -why you came too late tonight?
the moon: - i was there caring about your woman
me: -oooooooooh really you saw her?
the moon: -sure i know that you are waitting me to bring news
me: - very good my moon then tell me haw is she?
the moom: - she is sad beacuse you are far away
me: - oooooooh my babe then what else?
the moon: - her eyes is wandering looking for you
me: - god ill cry my little bird is sad now
the moon: -i can tell her any message if you want it
me: - really my friend i need you help
the moon: - its ok what do you want to tell her?
me: - tell her that he cant sleep he is scared to sleep and you are there
alone tell her that i wish to touch her hair now and talk to her till the morning and ill love her till ill die
the moon: - ooooooooh you love her?
me: -as much as u can immagine more than any thing and more than my life
the moon: - ok ok my friend i told her and she said! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
me: - what what what what? what she said pleaze pleaze tell me
the moon: - she said i was waitting you mr moon to bring me this message to know that my sweet heart is thinking about me now i can sleep with more comfort please kiss him for me
me: - wow she is kissing me?
the moon: - she is giving you melions and melions of kisses but oooooooooh
me: - what is the matter my friend?
the moon; - another couples now waiiting me to transfere their messages
me: - so you are planning to leave me?
the moon: - i have to ill see ypu tomorrow as i help you iam helping also another lovers
me: - ok mr moon ill waite for you tomorrow with anew messages
the moon: - ok my friend see you soooooooon
me: - see you sooon my good friend and take care about my sweet heart be like an angel around her
poem by Ayman Ghamry
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
The Shepherd's Calendar - June
Now summer is in flower and natures hum
Is never silent round her sultry bloom
Insects as small as dust are never done
Wi' glittering dance and reeling in the sun
And green wood fly and blossom haunting bee
Are never weary of their melody
Round field hedge now flowers in full glory twine
Large bindweed bells wild hop and streakd woodbine
That lift athirst their slender throated flowers
Agape for dew falls and for honey showers
These round each bush in sweet disorder run
And spread their wild hues to the sultry sun
Where its silk netting lace on twigs and leaves
The mottld spider at eves leisure weaves
That every morning meet the poets eye
Like faireys dew wet dresses hung to dry
The wheat swells into ear and leaves below
The may month wild flowers and their gaudy show
Bright carlock bluecap and corn poppy red
Which in such clouds of colors wid [e] ly spread
That at the sun rise might to fancys eye
Seem to reflect the many colord sky
And leverets seat and lark and partridge nest
It leaves a schoolboys height in snugger rest
And oer the weeders labour overgrows
Who now in merry groups each morning goes
To willow skirted meads wi fork and rake
The scented hay cocks in long rows to make
Where their old visitors in russet brown
The haytime butterflyes dance up and down
And gads that teaze like whasps the timid maid
And drive the herdboys cows to pond and shade
Who when his dogs assistance fails to stop
Is forcd his half made oaten pipes to drop
And start and hallo thro the dancing heat
To keep their gadding tumult from the wheat
Who in their rage will dangers overlook
And leap like hunters oer the pasture brook
Brushing thro blossomd beans in maddening haste
And 'stroying corn they scarce can stop to taste
Labour pursues its toil in weary mood
And feign woud rest wi shadows in the wood
The mowing gangs bend oer the beeded grass
Where oft the gipseys hungry journeying ass
Will turn its wishes from the meadow paths
Listning the rustle of the falling swaths
The ploughman sweats along the fallow vales
And down the suncrackt furrow slowly trails
Oft seeking when athirst the brooks supply
Where brushing eager the brinks bushes bye
[...] Read more
poem by John Clare
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Miscalculations
nine plates of my total trust
nine plates of my eternal love
all to you i'll serve forever
to my moon, my goddess, my dove
my voice is lost in endless night
you, the moon, spark my fight
the battle within to tell you all
theirs our winning, mine will fall
to the floor to lay in dirt
my secrets within excite the hurt
secrets screaming to get out
all to you, i have no doubt
you are the moon, way out there
i want you here, it's just not fair
a beacon of trust i hope you'll give
for me to see so i can live
when were apart my heart is strained
when i'm with you i feel no pain
for all you deserve, i am inadequate
i tell my heart 'do not fret
she will realize how much we care'
'she never will, it's just not fair'
you strike my heart's most trusting strings
it longs to tell you all those things
that keep me up late at night
those things that cause the awful fright
'all these things she want not know'
'you'll never know 'less you ask her so'
tumbling in this endless plight
heart and soul in eternal fight
'we love her so, we both know that'
'but an eyelash she has yet to bat
to acknowledge that she even cares'
but i love that moon, it's just not fair
the moon, the moon, my only guiding light
you must look down on me with those eyes so bright
your servant i will always be
i wish i knew how you felt for me
soon the sun to push you away
i’ll hate the sun, there’s no other way
it separates me from your goddess presence
it hurts so much, am i doing penance?
i know for me you just can’t care
i hate the sun, it’s just not fair
the moon’s the only one for me
o! the moon, if she could only see
[...] Read more
poem by Sebastien St. Fellmore
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
The Little Girl and The Moon
once upon a time there was a little girl.
she liked to sit outside at night and talk to the moon.
everynight she kept the moon company.
one night she noticed the moon seemed tired, so
she climbed upon the roof, to tell the moon a secret.
the old moon smiled, so she reaches up
takes the moon in her hands and puts him in her pocket.
then she climbs down and goes into her house, up the stairs
to her room.there she takes the moon out and lets lay on
her bed.for hours they talked, told secrets and giggled.
then they heard people asking where the moon was.
outside was so dark, they couldnt find their ways.
the old moon says to the little girl
'maybe you should put me back into the sky,
so the people can find their way home at night'.
the little girl agreed.so she picks up the moon,
puts him back into her pocket.
she walks downstairs and goes outside.
it was very dark, but she wasnt afraid,
she had her friend the moon to help
show her the way.
she climbs back upon the roof, takes the moon out
of her pocket. holding him with both hands
she tells the moon'i love you,
we will still talk every night, but you must go back
give people light at nightime'.
she leans over kisses the moon goodnight.
then reaches back and tosses the moon
hard as she could back into the
nightime sky.
then the little girl and the moon hear, all the people
shouting and laughing.
after everything quietened down
the stars who were so happy the moon returned
all gave the moon kisses.
the little girl climbed down
with the moon lighting her way
went inside up to her room
took 1 last peek out
blowing the moon a big kiss goodnight.
poem by Sandy Nobody
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
The Ballad Of One-Eyed Mike
This is the tale that was told to me by the man with the crystal eye,
As I smoked my pipe in the camp-fire light, and the Glories swept the sky;
As the Northlights gleamed and curved and streamed, and the bottle of "hooch" was dry.
A man once aimed that my life be shamed, and wrought me a deathly wrong;
I vowed one day I would well repay, but the heft of his hate was strong.
He thonged me East and he thonged me West; he harried me back and forth,
Till I fled in fright from his peerless spite to the bleak, bald-headed North.
And there I lay, and for many a day I hatched plan after plan,
For a golden haul of the wherewithal to crush and to kill my man;
And there I strove, and there I clove through the drift of icy streams;
And there I fought, and there I sought for the pay-streak of my dreams.
So twenty years, with their hopes and fears and smiles and tears and such,
Went by and left me long bereft of hope of the Midas touch;
About as fat as a chancel rat, and lo! despite my will,
In the weary fight I had clean lost sight of the man I sought to kill.
'Twas so far away, that evil day when I prayed to the Prince of Gloom
For the savage strength and the sullen length of life to work his doom.
Nor sign nor word had I seen or heard, and it happed so long ago;
My youth was gone and my memory wan, and I willed it even so.
It fell one night in the waning light by the Yukon's oily flow,
I smoked and sat as I marvelled at the sky's port-winey glow;
Till it paled away to an absinthe gray, and the river seemed to shrink,
All wobbly flakes and wriggling snakes and goblin eyes a-wink.
'Twas weird to see and it 'wildered me in a queer, hypnotic dream,
Till I saw a spot like an inky blot come floating down the stream;
It bobbed and swung; it sheered and hung; it romped round in a ring;
It seemed to play in a tricksome way; it sure was a merry thing.
In freakish flights strange oily lights came fluttering round its head,
Like butterflies of a monster size--then I knew it for the Dead.
Its face was rubbed and slicked and scrubbed as smooth as a shaven pate;
In the silver snakes that the water makes it gleamed like a dinner-plate.
It gurgled near, and clear and clear and large and large it grew;
It stood upright in a ring of light and it looked me through and through.
It weltered round with a woozy sound, and ere I could retreat,
With the witless roll of a sodden soul it wantoned to my feet.
And here I swear by this Cross I wear, I heard that "floater" say:
"I am the man from whom you ran, the man you sought to slay.
That you may note and gaze and gloat, and say `Revenge is sweet',
In the grit and grime of the river's slime I am rotting at your feet.
"The ill we rue we must e'en undo, though it rive us bone from bone;
[...] Read more
poem by Robert William Service
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!