POEMS

Today’s  Poem: 16/05/2012

TO A CHILD DANCING IN THE WIND

Dance there upon the shore;
What need have you to care
For wind or water’s roar?
And tumble out your hair
That the salt drops have wet;
Being young you have not known
The fool’s triumph, nor yet
Love lost as soon as won,
Nor the best laborer dead
And all the sheaves to bind.
What need have you to dread
The monstrous crying of the wind?

Has no one said those daring
Kind eyes should be more learn’d?
Or warned you how despairing
The moths are when they are burned,
I could have warned you,
but you are young,
So we speak a different tongue.

You will take whatever’s offered
And dream that all
the world’s a friend,
Suffer as your mother suffered,
Be as broken in the end.

But I am old and you are young,
And I speak a barbarous tongue.

W.B. Yeats

W.B. Yeats (1907)

W.B. Yeats (1907) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)



 

Look to the Future

Look to the future
Detach from the past
Let the people go
Start a new this time
Look to the future
Love like it’ll last
Dream like it’s forever
No move envy
Look to the future
Have the star life
Learn from others
Take it in
Look to the future
Be proud with yourself
No more lies
No more disguises
Look to the future
Solve the unresolved
Be someone’s firefly
Stop living for yourself
Look to the future
Be the person
You dream to be
Stop fantasizing
Look to the future
It’s only gets brighter
From here on out
Detach from the past
Look to the future

Leah Harlow

Serenity is thy name...

Serenity is thy name… (Photo credit: Nagesh Kamath)

Evening Star

‘Twas noontide of summer,
And mid-time of night;
And stars, in their orbits,
Shone pale, thro’ the light
Of the brighter, cold moon,
‘Mid planets her slaves,
Herself in the Heavens,
Her beam on the waves.
I gazed awhile
On her cold smile;
Too cold- too cold for me-
There pass’d, as a shroud,
A fleecy cloud,

And I turned away to thee,
Proud Evening Star,
In thy glory afar,
And dearer thy beam shall be;
For joy to my heart
Is the proud part
Thou bearest in Heaven at night,
And more I admire
Thy distant fire,
Than that colder, lowly light.

Edgar Allan Poe
1848 Daguerreotype of Edgar Allan Poe at 39, a...

1848 Daguerreotype of Edgar Allan Poe at 39, a year before his death (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

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