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Poem for the Day

Posted: 28 June 2013

I sleep with thee, and wake with thee,
And yet thou art not there;
I fill my arms with thoughts of thee,
And press the common air.
Thy eyes are gazing upon mine
When thou art out of sight;
My lips are always touching thine
At morning, noon, and night.

I think and speak of other things
To keep my mind at rest,
But still to thee my memory clings
Like love in woman's breast.
I hide it from the world's wide eye
And think of things anew,
But soft the wind comes from the sky
And whispers tales of you.

The night-wind whispers in my ear,
The moon shines on my face;
The burden still of chilling fear
I find in every place.
The breeze is whispering in the bush,
And the leaves fall from the tree,
All sighing on, and will not hush,
Some pleasant tales of thee.

I Sleep With Thee
John Clare 1793 - 1864

Poem for the Day

Posted: 27 June 2013

Can't seem to feel your love
The way I think I felt your love before.
You say it's me that's changed
You say I don't respect you anymore.
And if you're right it doesn't rain in England,
If you're right they don't drink wine in France.
If you're right Picasso played piano
And Fred Astaire could never really dance,

My eyes are close to tears
I can't believe I hear the words you say.
You tell me there's no point
To make it work when we've lost yesterday.
And if you're right, then love's a game for children,
Just a game of seaside touch and run.
And if you're right then Shakespeare wrote a long lost play
Called Romeo and something or someone.

Don't waste what's left of love
Or look for ways to close and bar the door, there's no need.
One time for memories
Just feel it like you know it felt before and you'll see

That if I'm right it will pour with rain in England,
If I'm right they'll raise a glass in France.
And if I'm right, you're wrong and that's just fine by me,
'Cos that means that our love's still got a chance.

If You’re Right
Peter Sinfield 1943 -

Poem for the Day

Posted: 26 June 2013

The night has a thousand eyes,
And the day but one;
Yet the light of the bright world dies
With the dying sun.

The mind has a thousand eyes,
And the heart but one:
Yet the light of a whole life dies
When love is done.

The Night Has A Thousand Eyes
Francis William Bourdillon 1852 - 1921

 

Poem for the Day

Posted: 25 June 2013

Last night, ah, yesternight, betwixt her lips and mine
There fell thy shadow, Cynara! thy breath was shed
Upon my soul between the kisses and the wine;
And I was desolate and sick of an old passion,
Yea, I was desolate and bowed my head:
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.

All night upon mine heart I felt her warm heart beat,
Night-long within mine arms in love and sleep she lay;
Surely the kisses of her bought red mouth were sweet;
But I was desolate and sick of an old passion,
When I awoke and found the dawn was gray:
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.

I have forgot much, Cynara! gone with the wind,
Flung roses, roses riotously with the throng,
Dancing, to put thy pale, lost lilies out of mind;
But I was desolate and sick of an old passion,
Yea, all the time, because the dance was long:
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.

I cried for madder music and for stronger wine,
But when the feast is finished and the lamps expire,
Then falls thy shadow, Cynara! the night is thine;
And I am desolate and sick of an old passion,
Yea, hungry for the lips of my desire:
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.

Non sum quails eram bonae sub regno Cynarae
(I am not as I was under good Cynara's reign)
Ernest Christopher Dowson 1867 - 1900

Poem for the Day

Posted: 24 June 2013

Unleash me from your hand
And I will lance the light for you
I'll cut a swordblade on the wind
And pennant it with flight for you
To signal I am yours
If you will free me to be true to you

Unleash me from your hand
And I will mock the sky for you
I'll pull the anger from the air
And make the breezes sigh for you
To show you I am yours
If you will free me to be true to you

Unleash me from your hand
And I will jewel it bright for you
I'll hunt the treasures of the wind
And pluck them into sight for you
To show that I am yours
If you will free me to be true to you

O, cast me from your hand
That I may show my love for you
And throw me to the wind
That I may know my need for you

All darkness on your hand
I'm hooded, pinned and held by you
O, give me back my wings
That they may bring me back to you

The Falcon to the Falconer
Jonathan Steffen 1952 -

681-685 of 841 blog entries

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