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If the sun sets for me at dawn
So that the white in me turns black
Before I shed off a single milk teeth
If I vacate that soothsome seat
A Cup Of Tea
I thought and thought and thought,
For a perfect subject.
To write my first poem,
As a poet on Internet.
The room is full of you!-As I came in
And closed the door behind me, all at once
A something in the air, intangible,
Yet stiff with meaning, struck my senses sick!-
Edna St. Vincent Millay
A Red, Red Rose
O my Luve's like a red, red rose
That's newly sprung in June;
O my Luve's like the melodie
That's sweetly played in tune.
Oh dear !
Can our hearts the agonies smear ?
Let's be candid,
Let's be clear.
C K Rawat
My heart is yours
I know for sure
But not so sure
your heart is mine.
C K Rawat
Wouldst thou be taught, when sleep has taken flight,
By a sure voice that can most sweetly tell,
How far off yet a glimpse of morning light,
And if to lure the truant back be well,
It was a' for our rightfu' King
We left fair Scotland's strand;
It was a' for our rightfu' King
We e'er saw Irish land,
I'm tired of this relationship,
A relationship that has no weight.
Tired of all the days,
That has been wasted,
Innocent Killings In Kashmir
My dear friend, I see everyday bloodshed in Kashmir.
My dear friend, I see every day in Kashmir innocent Rose's lost their lives.
My dear friend, I see everyday mother's lost their innocent Rose's in Kashmir.
My dear friend, I see everyday blood flowing in the rivers.
Here alone it makes me feel bad.
Mostly when i keep thinking about the plans we had, sad.
My heart is broken, no craft maker would even fix it.
"Hign bliss is only for a higher state,"
But, surely, if severe afflictions borne
With patience merit the reward of peace,
Peace ye deserve; and may the solid good,
The Norman Boy
High on a broad unfertile tract of forest-skirted Down,
Nor kept by Nature for herself, nor made by man his own,
From home and company remote and every playful joy,
Served, tending a few sheep and goats, a ragged Norman Boy.
All thoughts, all passions, all delights,
Whatever stirs this mortal frame,
Are all but ministers of Love,
And feed his sacred flame.
Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Now while my lips are living
Their words must stay unsaid,
And will my soul remember
To speak when I am dead?
Michael: A Pastoral Poem
If from the public way you turn your steps
Up the tumultuous brook of Green-head Ghyll,
You will suppose that with an upright path
Your feet must struggle; in such bold ascent
There's a whisper down the field where the year has shot her yield
And the ricks stand gray to the sun,
Singing:-'Over then, come over, for the bee has quit the clover
And your English summer's done.'
My dear daddy,
You gave me intensive care for being weak ,
And made me what I am today,
Believing that I can be by your side,
My poem may be yours indeed
In melody and tone,
If in its rhythm you can read
A music of your own;
Please look after her
As i had failed
To show my care
You Can't Can Love
I don't know how the fishes feel, but I can't help thinking it odd,
That a gay young flapper of a female eel should fall in love with a cod.
Yet-that's exactly what she did and it only goes to prove,
That' what evr you do you can't put the lid on that crazy feeling Love.
Cinderella in the street
In a ragged gown,
Sloven slippers on her feet,
Shames our tidy town;
I know you are too dear to stay;
You are so exquisitely sweet:
My lonely house will thrill some day
To echoes of your eager feet.
She Loves Me Not
She loves me not but I love her,
I loves her not but she loves me,
Love is not always from both side,
Love is sometime from one side only.
My dear beloved parents,
You cared & raised me,
Sent school to learn,
Made me what I am today,
I Wish I Could
I wish I could Get you,
I don't know how much this heart wants you all the time,
Feel Your Presence Everywhere,Where you are not there,
Always think to See you Again with that Shiny little Rain,
It was your way, my dear,
To be gone without a word
When callers, friends, or kin
Had left, and I hastened in
Scenes From The Heaven [kashmir]
Oh! the dreamers of heaven, have you just dreamt of heaven?
Have you seen it? Have you felt it?
Obviously not, So here am I
Here I am the one who has seen the scenes of heaven.
The Old Huntsman
I've never ceased to curse the day I signed
A seven years' bargain for the Golden Fleece.
'Twas a bad deal all round; and dear enough
It cost me, what with my daft management,
Summer pleasures they are gone like to visions every one
And the cloudy days of autumn and of winter cometh on
I tried to call them back but unbidden they are gone
Far away from heart and eye and for ever far away
" Enslaved "
The lashes stained deep beneath his melanin, tears incubates, but pours without. Led by chains for he was manly built, intimidating appearance, on his face there weren't a grin.
The ships came in minutes they were filled, off to the North with gracious wind, many die of hunger, some from lashes, thrown overboard big creatures feasted.