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Waterfall

With a gush from the weight
Of million of years of rocks
Leaps on high in white arc,
Crash splash,

Over its vaporous depth
Gilled to the shape of a gorge-
Luminous in morning sun
Haloed in moonlit misted light-

Berth escapes seascape of desires,
Itches in coral reefs
And hitches home, surf shod,
Nostalgic for another life.

poem by Yoonoos Peerbocus
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The Creed Of The Wood

A WHIFF of forest scent,
Balsam and fern,
Won from dreary mood
My heart's return,
From its discontent,
Joy's run-away,
To the sweet, wise wood
And the laughing day.
Simple as dew and gleam
Is the creed of the wood!
The Beautiful gave us life,
And life is good.
Be the world but a dream,
Let the world go shod
With peace, not strife,
For the Dreamer is God.

poem by Katharine Lee Bates
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We Are of God

We are of God
Men who believe
We are of God
Who does not deceive.
We are of God
Hearing His Word
'Yeshua is Saviour'
Have you not heard?
We are of God
And worship in truth
For Christ is arisen
We need not have proof!
We are of God
The Comforter does dwell
Abiding with us
Saving from hell.
We are of God
With peace we are shod
Cleansed by His blood;

[...] Read more

poem by Richard Merrell
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Winter Stroll

Come, let us
Take a midnight stroll
Through the snow-white forest,
A place where no one can find us.
Let us walk silently,
We shall shod in white, silk fur,
Looking like snow-white queens
As we glide across the white snow,
With nothing but the bright moonlight shining on ur eyes\As we walk across the elegant white forest
Us both in white, silk fur
With nothing but the moonlight shining on our eyes.

poem by Ahmad Abdul Awwal
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Like trains of cars on tracks of plush

Like trains of cars on tracks of plush
I hear the level bee:
A jar across the flowers goes,
Their velvet masonry

Withstands until the sweet assault
Their chivalry consumes,
While he, victorious, tilts away
To vanquish other blooms.

His feet are shod with gauze,
His helmet is of gold;
His breast, a single onyx
With chrysoprase, inlaid.

His labor is a chant,
His idleness a tune;
Oh, for a bee's experience
Of clovers and of noon!

poem by Emily Dickinson
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As Winds That Blow Against A Star

(For Aline)

Now by what whim of wanton chance
Do radiant eyes know sombre days?
And feet that shod in light should dance
Walk weary and laborious ways?

But rays from Heaven, white and whole,
May penetrate the gloom of earth;
And tears but nourish, in your soul,
The glory of celestial mirth.

The darts of toil and sorrow, sent
Against your peaceful beauty, are
As foolish and as impotent
As winds that blow against a star.

poem by Joyce Kilmer
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After Passing the Examination

For ten years I never left my books;
I went up ... and won unmerited praise.
My high place I do not much prize;
The joy of my parents will first make me proud.
Fellow students, six or seven men,
See me off as I leave the City gate.
My covered couch is ready to drive away;
Flutes and strings blend their parting tune.
Hopes achieved dull the pains of parting;
Fumes of wine shorten the long road ...
Shod with wings is the horse of him who rides
On a Spring day the road that leads to home.

poem by Bai Juyi
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Velvet Shoes

Let us walk in the white snow
In a soundless space;
With footsteps quiet snd slow,
At a tranquil pace,
Under veils of white lace.

I shall go shod in silk,
And you in wool,
White as white cow's milk,
More beautiful
Than the breast of a gull.

We shall walk through the still town
In a windless peace;
We shall step upon white down,
Upon silver fleece,
Upon softer than these.

We shall walk in velvet shoes:
Wherever we go

[...] Read more

poem by Elinor Morton Wylie
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Just for joy, take from my palms

Just for joy, take from my palms
A little sun, a little honey,
As Persephone's bees commanded.

An unfastened boat cannot be untied.
A shade shod in fur cannot be heard.
In the dense forest of life fear cannot be overcome.

Only kisses are left for us.
Furry, like small bees
That die when they leave the hive.

They rustle in transparent thickets of night,
Their home is the dense Taiga woods;
Their food -- time, honeysuckle, mint.

So take and enjoy my passionate gift,
A dry, unsightly necklace
Of dead bees, who changed honey into sun.

poem by Osip Emilevich Mandelstam
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The Path of Dreams

Oh Morpheus shaper of dreams
You come to me in soft shod feet;
A thousand steps into darkness.
Tunneling down into slumber
To that secret golden place
Your many chambered rooms.
Each a door to realms of night
To where reality ends,
A place between dimensions
Where I fly, walk under the sea,
Be angel or devil, a rain of tears,
An ocean in a dropp of water,
A planet in a grain of sand.
A surreal paradise or a firey hell
A highway in the kingdom of sleep.
To follow the silver thread to wake
But remember not.

P H Brookes Copyright 2011

poem by Paul Brookes
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