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"gladden" poems
when we are kissing           (i’m pressed against your chest           your arms around me). i spin. not with confusion but with joy. like a dancer spinning along with music. you’re the music that winds me. can you make me your princess.           (love me, satisfy me). i can be a beautiful girl in a cute dress that you’ll run you hands over. i could feel your skin,           (my hands slip under your shirt) my prince. we can’t get in trouble                     (...no worries…) since we have the power.           (“excused.”) it’ll be okay. princesses don’t get in trouble.           (it’ll all change once i’m queen           and you’re king). i’m only queen so you could be my king. assuage me/ answer me/ gratify me.
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Jul 30, 2018
Jul 30, 2018 at 1:40 AM UTC
gladden
"See! warp is stretched For warriors' fall, Lo! weft in loom 'Tis wet with blood; Now fight foreboding, 'Neath friends' swift fingers, Our grey woof waxeth With war's alarms, Our warp bloodred, Our weft corseblue. "This woof is y-woven With entrails of men, This warp is hardweighted With heads of the slain, Spears blood-besprinkled For spindles we use, Our loom ironbound, And arrows our reels; With swords for our shuttles This war-woof we work; So weave we, weird sisters, Our warwinning woof. "Now Warwinner walketh To weave in her turn, Now Swordswinger steppeth, Now Swiftstroke, now Storm; When they speed the shuttle How spearheads shall flash! Shields crash, and helmgnawer On harness bite hard! "Wind we, wind swiftly Our warwinning woof Woof erst for king youthful Foredoomed as his own, Forth now we will ride, Then through the ranks rushing Be busy where friends Blows blithe give and take. "Wind we, wind swiftly Our warwinning woof, After that let us steadfastly Stand by the brave king; Then men shall mark mournful Their shields red with gore, How Swordstroke and Spearthrust Stood stout by the prince. "Wind we, wind swiftly Our warwinning woof. When sword-bearing rovers To banners rush on, Mind, maidens, we spare not One life in the fray! We corse-choosing sisters Have charge of the slain. "Now new-coming nations That island shall rule, Who on outlying headlands Abode ere the fight; I say that King mighty To death now is done, Now low before spearpoint That Earl bows his head. "Soon over all Ersemen Sharp sorrow shall fall, That woe to those warriors Shall wane nevermore; Our woof now is woven. Now battlefield waste, O'er land and o'er water War tidings shall leap. "Now surely 'tis gruesome To gaze all around. When bloodred through heaven Drives cloudrack o'er head; Air soon shall be deep hued With dying men's blood When this our spaedom Comes speedy to pass. "So cheerily chant we Charms for the young king, Come maidens lift loudly His warwinning lay; Let him who now listens Learn well with his ears And gladden brave swordsmen With bursts of war's song. "Now mount we our horses, Now bare we our brands, Now haste we hard, maidens, Hence far, far, away."
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Apr 26, 2010
Apr 26, 2010 at 10:58 AM UTC
Battle song for Valkyries
"See! warp is stretched For warriors' fall, Lo! weft in loom 'Tis wet with blood; Now fight foreboding, 'Neath friends' swift fingers, Our grey woof waxeth With war's alarms, Our warp bloodred, Our weft corseblue. "This woof is y-woven With entrails of men, This warp is hardweighted With heads of the slain, Spears blood-besprinkled For spindles we use, Our loom ironbound, And arrows our reels; With swords for our shuttles This war-woof we work; So weave we, weird sisters, Our warwinning woof. "Now Warwinner walketh To weave in her turn, Now Swordswinger steppeth, Now Swiftstroke, now Storm; When they speed the shuttle How spearheads shall flash! Shields crash, and helmgnawer On harness bite hard! "Wind we, wind swiftly Our warwinning woof Woof erst for king youthful Foredoomed as his own, Forth now we will ride, Then through the ranks rushing Be busy where friends Blows blithe give and take. "Wind we, wind swiftly Our warwinning woof, After that let us steadfastly Stand by the brave king; Then men shall mark mournful Their shields red with gore, How Swordstroke and Spearthrust Stood stout by the prince. "Wind we, wind swiftly Our warwinning woof. When sword-bearing rovers To banners rush on, Mind, maidens, we spare not One life in the fray! We corse-choosing sisters Have charge of the slain. "Now new-coming nations That island shall rule, Who on outlying headlands Abode ere the fight; I say that King mighty To death now is done, Now low before spearpoint That Earl bows his head. "Soon over all Ersemen Sharp sorrow shall fall, That woe to those warriors Shall wane nevermore; Our woof now is woven. Now battlefield waste, O'er land and o'er water War tidings shall leap. "Now surely 'tis gruesome To gaze all around. When bloodred through heaven Drives cloudrack o'er head; Air soon shall be deep hued With dying men's blood When this our spaedom Comes speedy to pass. "So cheerily chant we Charms for the young king, Come maidens lift loudly His warwinning lay; Let him who now listens Learn well with his ears And gladden brave swordsmen With bursts of war's song. "Now mount we our horses, Now bare we our brands, Now haste we hard, maidens, Hence far, far, away."
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90
Indulgent muse! my grov’ling mind inspire, And fill my ***** with celestial fire. See from Jamaica’s fervid shore she moves, Like the fair mother of the blooming loves, When from above the Goddess with her hand Fans the soft breeze, and lights upon the land; Thus she on Neptune’s wat’ry realm reclin’d Appear’d, and thus invites the ling’ring wind. “Arise, ye winds, America explore, “Waft me, ye gales, from this malignant shore; “The Northern milder climes I long to greet, “There hope that health will my arrival meet.” Soon as she spoke in my ideal view The winds assented, and the vessel flew. Madam, your spouse bereft of wife and son, In the grove’s dark recesses pours his moan; Each branch, wide-spreading to the ambient sky, Forgets its verdure, and submits to die. From thence I turn, and leave the sultry plain, And swift pursue thy passage o’er the main: The ship arrives before the fav’ring wind, And makes the Philadelphian port assign’d, Thence I attend you to Bostonia’s arms, Where gen’rous friendship ev’ry ***** warms: Thrice welcome here! may health revive again, Bloom on thy cheek, and bound in ev’ry vein! Then back return to gladden ev’ry heart, And give your spouse his soul’s far dearer part, Receiv’d again with what a sweet surprise, The tear in transport starting from his eyes! While his attendant son with blooming grace Springs to his father’s ever dear embrace. With shouts of joy Jamaica’s rocks resound, With shouts of joy the country rings around.
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2.3k
To A Lady On Her Coming To North-America With Her Son, For The Recovery Of Her Health
Indulgent muse! my grov’ling mind inspire, And fill my ***** with celestial fire. See from Jamaica’s fervid shore she moves, Like the fair mother of the blooming loves, When from above the Goddess with her hand Fans the soft breeze, and lights upon the land; Thus she on Neptune’s wat’ry realm reclin’d Appear’d, and thus invites the ling’ring wind. “Arise, ye winds, America explore, “Waft me, ye gales, from this malignant shore; “The Northern milder climes I long to greet, “There hope that health will my arrival meet.” Soon as she spoke in my ideal view The winds assented, and the vessel flew. Madam, your spouse bereft of wife and son, In the grove’s dark recesses pours his moan; Each branch, wide-spreading to the ambient sky, Forgets its verdure, and submits to die. From thence I turn, and leave the sultry plain, And swift pursue thy passage o’er the main: The ship arrives before the fav’ring wind, And makes the Philadelphian port assign’d, Thence I attend you to Bostonia’s arms, Where gen’rous friendship ev’ry ***** warms: Thrice welcome here! may health revive again, Bloom on thy cheek, and bound in ev’ry vein! Then back return to gladden ev’ry heart, And give your spouse his soul’s far dearer part, Receiv’d again with what a sweet surprise, The tear in transport starting from his eyes! While his attendant son with blooming grace Springs to his father’s ever dear embrace. With shouts of joy Jamaica’s rocks resound, With shouts of joy the country rings around.
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Will you be there? my yearning heart has cried: Ah me, my love, my love, shall I be there, To sit down in your glory and to share Your gladness, glowing as a ****** bride? Or will another dearer, fairer-eyed, Sit nigher to you in your jubilee; And mindful one of other will you be Borne higher and higher on joy's ebbless tide? --Yea, if I love I will not grudge you this: I too shall float upon that heavenly sea And sing my joyful praises without ache; Your overflow of joy shall gladden me, My whole heart shall sing praises for your sake And find its own fulfilment in your bliss.
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2.2k
Will You Be There?
Spring dawned after the biting chill, Beams of sunlight filtered down, Flakes of snow melted away, The Earth bathed in brilliant glow He came, The dainty Darling of our dreams! With promises full and hopes in store, To fill the void, within our souls. To burst the silence, with the clatter of sounds To dispel the gloom, that hovered on He came, High from Heaven, like a cherubim sent, with the glow of umpteen candles lit, He came, To gladden our doleful hearts, To deliver us of our blighted state He came, Like the first rain on parched ground, To drench the arid lands in profuse shower, To ease the ***** of sweltering heat, To put out the fire of growing drought Marveling over the seizure of treasure, long hidden within the crevices dark, We stood, so pleasantly taken aback, over the gift, ere vouched, but long delayed. Like an eagle in its aerial route, flew my spirits in ecstatic rounds Like the Swallow, soaring high above, my fancy took wings and set to fly. He lay close to me, the bundle of joy! His dark little eyes poised on my face, full with words on silent lips, and innocence on his glistening visage I peered into that cute little face, the face I had long fondled in my dreams, I whirled in the feel of prime feed, and swam in the current of maternal bliss!
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Nov 18, 2016
Nov 18, 2016 at 6:47 AM UTC
Deliverance
i Off in the beaten path An Echelon of secret tribal's; I pirouetted with them in plumage Mine queen showed up, just on arrival. ii Her timing was perfect As tis she watched me caper; Me and mine Reyna's amour' Like tambourines, shook with ancient shaker's. iii Hot coal ember's Igneous in ourn chest's; Ourn pulmonary arterie's Bracketed, by her tribesgirl dress. iv We were gladden Betwixt the wilderness; Under mango leaves Jane seduced me, equatorial phene's. v Whilst the darkness wore down And the tribesmen went to sleep; Me and mine protector In the dusk, disappeared, into eachother's soul's to keep. ©Brandon nagley ©Earl Jane dedication ©Lonesome poet's poetry
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Aug 10, 2015
Aug 10, 2015 at 3:22 PM UTC
Inter deserto ( Betwixt the wilderness) latin tongue
vibrant colors effervescent arrays energetically on show for the eye's window gardens ebullient with vivacious displays front and backyards brilliantly aglow hues of a rainbow a springtime glory energetically on show for the eye's window a paint box of shades telling the story streets and avenues resplendent of decoration hues of a rainbow a springtime story our towns and villages so bright in elation they bring a gaiety after winter's drear streets and avenues resplendent of decoration it does gladden the heart when they appear the floral tones of cerise purple and orange bloom they bring a gaiety after winter's drear spring displacing the cold season's gloom the floral tones of cerise purple and orange bloom vibrant colors effervescent arrays gardens ebullient with vivacious displays
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Jul 13, 2014
Jul 13, 2014 at 2:22 AM UTC
Ebullient Gardens (Terzanelle Poem)
A Song Fill the goblet again! for I never before Felt the glow which now gladdens my heart to its core; Let us drink!—who would not?—since, through life’s varied round, In the goblet alone no deception is found. I have tried in its turn all that life can supply; I have bask’d in the beam of a dark rolling eye; I have lov’d!—who has not?—but what heart can declare That Pleasure existed while Passion was there? In the days of my youth, when the heart’s in its spring, And dreams that Affection can never take wing, I had friends!—who has not?—but what tongue will avow, That friends, rosy wine! are so faithful as thou? The heart of a mistress some boy may estrange, Friendship shifts with the sunbeam—thou never canst change; Thou grow’st old—who does not?—but on earth what appears, Whose virtues, like thine, still increase with its years? Yet if blest to the utmost that Love can bestow, Should a rival bow down to our idol below, We are jealous!—who’s not?—thou hast no such alloy; For the more that enjoy thee, the more we enjoy. Then the season of youth and its vanities past, For refuge we fly to the goblet at last; There we find—do we not?—in the flow of the soul, That truth, as of yore, is confined to the bowl. When the box of Pandora was open’d on earth, And Misery’s triumph commenc’d over Mirth, Hope was left,—was she not?—but the goblet we kiss, And care not for Hope, who are certain of bliss. Long life to the grape! for when summer is flown, The age of our nectar shall gladden our own: We must die—who shall not?—May our sins be forgiven, And **** shall never be idle in Heaven.
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1.7k
Fill The Goblet Again
A Song Fill the goblet again! for I never before Felt the glow which now gladdens my heart to its core; Let us drink!—who would not?—since, through life’s varied round, In the goblet alone no deception is found. I have tried in its turn all that life can supply; I have bask’d in the beam of a dark rolling eye; I have lov’d!—who has not?—but what heart can declare That Pleasure existed while Passion was there? In the days of my youth, when the heart’s in its spring, And dreams that Affection can never take wing, I had friends!—who has not?—but what tongue will avow, That friends, rosy wine! are so faithful as thou? The heart of a mistress some boy may estrange, Friendship shifts with the sunbeam—thou never canst change; Thou grow’st old—who does not?—but on earth what appears, Whose virtues, like thine, still increase with its years? Yet if blest to the utmost that Love can bestow, Should a rival bow down to our idol below, We are jealous!—who’s not?—thou hast no such alloy; For the more that enjoy thee, the more we enjoy. Then the season of youth and its vanities past, For refuge we fly to the goblet at last; There we find—do we not?—in the flow of the soul, That truth, as of yore, is confined to the bowl. When the box of Pandora was open’d on earth, And Misery’s triumph commenc’d over Mirth, Hope was left,—was she not?—but the goblet we kiss, And care not for Hope, who are certain of bliss. Long life to the grape! for when summer is flown, The age of our nectar shall gladden our own: We must die—who shall not?—May our sins be forgiven, And **** shall never be idle in Heaven.
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33
If wishes where horses I'd be glad to ride I'd take a chance and sail to the sky If wishes where horses it'd be nice I'd grow feathers wings and fly I'd harness the sun and keep the rain I'd be sure there'd be much to gain If wishes were horses let's be plain We'd wish to pulverize all our pains Yet these and more did keep us sane If wishes were horses as we dream It won't be enough to quench our greed If wishes were horses I'd wish mind be let free Free from thoughts of adversary I'd wish the waters flew through me To cleanse my soul and gladden it If wishes were horse as it should be I'd live in abundance of treasure and pleasures I'd cross the borders in seek of adventures If only wishes were horses no it's not Or horses could grant wishes yet they can't
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Sep 29, 2020
Sep 29, 2020 at 7:28 PM UTC
If wishes were horses
A subcutaneous doubt musters and you itch The shore line depression is here without hitch A sea of harps instigating an emotive atrophy You discharge and you dive with certain alacrity There is a boat afloat out in the briny of spite Oar-less and holey amid the bark and the fight You plunge and you quaff as you leave quiet behind A clamber and a climb and inside you will find Ruckus and roar as you rock with each crash Thunder and hail as the waves tempestuously lash Gladden with the grim elation preserves you Mirthful and drugged whilst the wet pours through To the most aphotic of waters that drags you deep The boat now just wood unto rocks in a heap Too eager to leap and now too weak to swim A stoical sink under madness to dim The seashore despair was a lie to itself The still and the shielded brimming with wealth Never attempt to weather a storm Of a storm as endless as that of that storm A wish that you stayed a want that you listened You’d still be where her green eyes glistened Where love and the good is now once tendered Most is best left as how it’s remembered.
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Jun 11, 2013
Jun 11, 2013 at 9:02 PM UTC
The Shore Line Depression
What have I planted today but the seeds of words in my mind's garden? would they germinate and grow would they beautify? and gladden the heart in verse and song? I'll not fail you my love, as it was you who gave me the seeds with your white tender hands which I kissed--your love I'll enshrine forever in my poetry.
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Jan 25, 2016
Jan 25, 2016 at 7:48 PM UTC
PLANTING
Gone be yon melted summer's day Whilst shrouded in robes of sorrow That never quill of a bard can portray Nor years unborn may ever know When a fair maiden pottered my way, Gently as drops of descending snow. Her eyes fairer than burnished gold Illuminated the vast shadowy night, Ebony hair upon her seraphic body rolled With a diadem of reddest roses bedight That swifter than a gallant knight so bold, I plunged to Elysium at such a sight. For she bore beauty of a silvery moon In lone splendor upon heavens bay, The pulchritude of sun beams by noon Against the sea on a fine blazing day. Now that love casted her novelty boon, Timidly I gravitated towards her way And in fables faintly whispered unto her: "Little maiden, little maiden, little maiden, O queen fairer than chalcedonic luster; Are flowers of yonder golden Aidenn More fair and redolent than thou are?" This did gladden - I strayed in a garden; Her garden of ethereal pulchritude Where no mortal ever walked through And now doth hearts gambol with glee 'Neath elm leaves bedight with stars above That the beauty queen calls it balm of Gilead To visit her garden - a garden of love. ©Kikodinho Edward Alexandros, Los Angels, California, USA              12th/09/2018
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Sep 12, 2018
Sep 12, 2018 at 5:26 AM UTC
THE GARDEN OF LOVE
You are full of it when what you plan to do did not include other people's interest. Are you playing with yourself all alone, when all you needed was just lovely friends who will gladden your world with their lives. These loving friends are actually the flowers in the garden of our lives, they decorate our lives with beauty and adorn it with fragrance of their loving smiles, bringing to us that free gifts of love and friendship. Their presence is more than a balm of Gilead. A true friend is like a rose and a beautiful flower in the vase of our lives worthy to be nurtured and watered daily. We need each others touch to survive and thrive. Love is about inclusion, doing and acting out our lives, and letting others into our world. Even though some might be a pain in the *** still you can't do without them, they make up the textures of our lives. We need all of them both the positive and the negative, they help bring us to a better place. Unwittingly helping in an uncanny way to learn about love and forgiveness, accommodating and acceptance, patience and endurance, Wellness and healing. They bring pleasure and delight into our world. How I wish we could be good loving friends. ©2018,Emeka Mokeme. All Rights Reserved.
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Sep 22, 2018
Sep 22, 2018 at 4:53 PM UTC
WE COULD BE GOOD LOVING FRIENDS
A flower concealed Its face under a leaf And the nightingale said Hide not because you gladden my heart Don't make my burn With your separation I have been in love With you all my life
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Oct 11, 2016
Oct 11, 2016 at 6:01 AM UTC
A hidden flower
Tears of heaven fall, Because I cried and held back nothing at all. Her heart is saddened, Because all of her blessings have failed to gladden. She whispers in the wind, ‘Are you disappointed, love, with all I send?’ But I yearn for more, Such a selfish, childish, arrogant boar! And does she weep, As I fall into my dark and restless sleep? Her voice in my dream Yet rolls through my heart as a life-giving stream. ‘I love you no less, Though foul you are and my blessings transgress; Still will I hold you and in my ***** caress.’
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Sep 23, 2013
Sep 23, 2013 at 8:27 PM UTC
The Love of God ... Despite Me
Do well what you really know And perform an achievement Say to dilemma a firm "no" To avoid foolish bereavement When courage and guts you show Success makes with you an agreement Decide by thinking with wisdom Died many who owned a kingdom Denied is peace if you reach stardom Let what you do at present Be very lovingly well-done Despite agonies, living. do not resent With faith and hope bear the burden Slowly and steadily make the ascent Success will flower to surely gladden. M V VENKATARAMAN
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May 17, 2010
May 17, 2010 at 8:22 AM UTC
Have Merry, Stop Worry, Life You Carry
One morning fair, in the month of may, I awoke afresh and laughed, for it seemed to me that the time had come, for a grand adventure, and a merry day. I ran down the creaking steps, down the long and welcoming stair, and when I came to stair- wells end, I winded stopped to rest. But soon I rose and started on, running on again, and running now more temperately, I came to the store apace. I stocked my pack with bread and butter, an apple and some cheese, and as a welcome afterthought, I added in some bees. I ran out the oaken door, I ran across the lawn, and entered in the beechen woods, full flowered in Kindly spring. And I ran and sang, and lost my way, all through that laughing, gladden day, and when at last I ventured home, my parents were justly, quite distraught. But I lay in my bed, and smiled and sang gladly in my heart, for though to bed without supper I'd gone, and my belly was rumbling sore, I'd gone on a merry, grand adventure, and I'd had a merry day.
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Sep 28, 2016
Sep 28, 2016 at 6:50 PM UTC
A Grand Adventure
Christ has no hands but our hands To do His work today; He has no tongue but our tongues To tell men how He died; He has no help but our help To bring them to His side. We are the Lord's best message Giving in deed and word- We must live alone to gladden Prayer for this will undergird. -Author Unknown-
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Nov 27, 2012
Nov 27, 2012 at 6:58 PM UTC
Untitled
My Eternal Lover Is going through hardship times. Some Light for His Cloud; A note of gentle sound, - not much loud, - Hopefully, eased are confines. My Favourite Lover Is going through turbulent times. Some Laughter and Love for His Heart; A Song and a Smile into dreams; And - hopefully - Calm is to Pain overthwart. For both of my Lovers - An appetent redstart Flies out with two oxhearts - To gladden their slumbers, To shoo away showers From lands of their dwelling, And bring about rainbows They'll sing of in tellings. (c)kRu, 07.02.-10.02.06
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Jan 30, 2010
Jan 30, 2010 at 1:03 AM UTC
For My Lovers
The distance between the A and point B the earth and the sky the shore and the sea are the steps that we take,equations we make,the sum exponential,the potential we're gifted to lift up our eyes,to gladden our hearts,make the most of new starts,to kiss and behold to love and be told that we're more than the one,melting then gone and in two I see me,closing the distance between point A and the B and the best thing of all is that this is all free, There is no hidden agenda,she gives me her body and soul,I give her my whole,one more tangent,one sine and the waves realign,I am hers she is mine and once these mathematics are done,we get to the fun of learning the talk and doing the walk and the chalk makes its line across and beyond the beginning of time.
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Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 4:18 AM UTC
' Tardis '
Who loves me always? Desperate to have me glow! As I move from the North Helping my dying neighbours from the south. Banging of boots scare the ears Ammunition conquers the reddish eyes Wars ravaging the human soul Who admires me? Dialogue beautifies the conscience Acrimony governs the senseless Monstrous nobles become opulent As they smile to the vault Deaths gladden the weak Nations get weakened by the feeble Cries of the desperate beckon for love With love, peace is the ultimate.
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Nov 7, 2021
Nov 7, 2021 at 3:07 AM UTC
Who loves me?
Fair Angels of Olympus, Muses Nine, That on its snowy summit gay recline, With other gods and haply the cynosure Of poets whom inspires your sacred ewer, O'erflowed with the ambrosial Hippocrene, The haunt of daughters of Mnemosyne, And Father Jove who loves these nymphets most, And of that gelid crest th’ immortal host. Apollo, son of Jove, gives company To your glad song of heaven’s euphony; There to his lyre flourish unfettered throats That bear the truest art through truest notes. When sing ye graceful goddesses amidst The brood of Saturn’s mighty son in feasts, May gladden the heart of children of the plain As well who in summer nights hearken you fain. I heard that music mild betwixt the glades, ‘Twixt valleys old till with the breeze it fades, Amongst the rustling youthful Aspen leaves, From bough to bough its tender beauty weaves. On warbler’s throat ye happy strains do pour, Above the groves as o’er the mountain soar They with their pinions unweary and suave, Dispenser of all art ye fain observe.
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Apr 7, 2017
Apr 7, 2017 at 3:13 AM UTC
Angels and Lyres
Sometimes the Dead by Michael R. Burch Sometimes we catch them out of the corners of our eyes— the pale dead. After they have fled the gourds of their bodies, like escaping fragrances they rise. Once they have become a cloud’s mist, sometimes like the rain they descend; they appear, sometimes silver like laughter, to gladden the hearts of men. Sometimes like a pale gray fog, they drift unencumbered, yet lumbrously, as if over the sea there was the lightest vapor even Atlas could not lift. Sometimes they haunt our dreams like forgotten melodies only half-remembered. Though they lie dismembered in black catacombs, sepulchers and dismal graves; although they have committed felonies, yet they are us. Someday soon we will meet them in the graveyard dust blood-engorged, but never sated since Cain slew Abel. But until we become them, let us steadfastly forget them, even as we know our children must ... Keywords/Tags: pale, dead, shades, shadows, fragrance, mist, vapor, fog, rain, forgotten, melodies, dismembered, tombs, graves, catacombs, sepulchers, mausoleums, graveyard, dust
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Mar 30, 2020
Mar 30, 2020 at 2:24 AM UTC
Sometimes the Dead
There comes a time, When a task prevails. Challenging our skills, Urging us to push, From deep within; To explore... Through the dark spell, Until we find light! And then begins a journey... Sometimes high and sometimes low, Often worries crease a brow, And then again Laughter springs alive! ...new horizons ...new people ...new lifestyle Expands the spectrum of life! The chalice of achievement, Glows with success Through the days and nights, Even while at work, We make friends... A parameter of home Just redefined! There comes a time, When we have to bid, Adieu Pain reeks deep within, But memories - So fond... So golden... Forever shall gladden thy heart! Spreading a smile Keeping us connected All through the distance!
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Jan 7, 2013
Jan 7, 2013 at 3:34 AM UTC
Task