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No love is comparable to mother's love
Inspiration when life becomes tough
Mother's love is unconditional and eternal
Sacrificial lamb for the child
Down The Lanes Of August
DOWN the lanes of Augustâ??and the bees upon the wing,
All the world's in color now, and all the song birds sing;
Never reds will redder be, more golden be the gold,
Down the lanes of August, and the summer getting old.
Edgar Albert Guest
Kal tu mere pass tha sath tha
Har pal-har waqt ek khushi ka ehsaas tha
Hath pakadhna galein lagana
Bahut sari batein karna
Love oh love,
You are sweeter than honey.
You make things easy without money;
Everything smiles at where there is love
I miss the distant sounds of crickets,
The melody formed by hummingbirds.
Nature's whispers, such calming voices,
The water dripping towards my eardrums
The old man looking out from the unclad window of his tiny hut,
He grinned his teeth and smile as the night greets his wrinkled face with it's crimson tide of a beautiful grim from a maiden moonlight.
To him; Oh! Age how often you come,
From My Heart
A million stars up in the sky.
One shines brighter - I can't deny.
A love so precious, a love so true,
a love that comes from me to you.
They please me not-these solemn songs
That hint of sermons covered up.
'Tis true the world should heed its wrongs,
But in a poem let me sup,
Paul Laurence Dunbar
The Voice Of Spring
I am coming, I am coming!
Hark! the honey bee is humming;
See, the lark is soaring high
In the blue and sunny sky,
Auguries Of Innocence
To see a world in a grain of sand
And a heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand
And eternity in an hour.
I Miss You
Where are you my darling
I tried calling out your name but I met no reponse
I tried reaching out to you but you are no where to be seen, honey
Where are you, I need you to set me free from these nightmares.
Song Of Seventy Horses
Once again the Steamer at Calais, the tackles
Easing the car-trays on to the quay. Release her!
Sign-refill, and let me away with my horses
(Seventy Thundering Horses!)
Venus And Adonis
Even as the sun with purple-coloured face
Had ta'en his last leave of the weeping morn,
Rose-cheeked Adonis hied him to the chase;
Hunting he loved, but love he laughed to scorn.
South Of My Days
South of my days' circle, part of my blood's country,
rises that tableland, high delicate outline
of bony slopes wincing under the winter,
low trees, blue-leaved and olive, outcropping granite-
Well then; I now do plainly see
This busy world and I shall ne'er agree.
The very honey of all earthly joy
Does of all meats the soonest cloy;
nd her sultry bloom
Insects as small as dust are never done
Wi' glittering dance and reeling in the sun
And green wood fly and blossom haunting bee
Of all the meals that glad my day
My morning one's the best;
Purveyed me on a silver tray,
Said Abner, ``At last thou art come! Ere I tell, ere thou speak,
``Kiss my cheek, wish me well!'' Then I wished it, and did kiss his cheek.
HONEY, child, honey, child, whither are you going?
Would you cast your jewels all to the breezes blowing?
Would you leave the mother who on golden grain has fed you?
Would you grieve the lover who is riding forth to wed you?
In The Carolinas
The lilacs wither in the Carolinas.
Already the butterflies flutter above the cabins.
Already the new-born children interpret love
In the voices of mothers.
MALLO lero iss im bo nero!
Go where they're threshing and find me my lover,
Mallo lero iss im bo bairn!
Punishment In Kindergarten
Today the world is a little more my own.
No need to remember the pain
A blue-frocked woman caused, throwing
Words at me like pots and pans, to drain
He didn’t pen it with his own hands,
Your lord did inspire it.
By involving forty writers.
He made a fishermen loose the shore site,
De dog go howlin' ‘long de road,
De night come shiverin' down;
My back is tiahed of its load,
I cain't be fu' f'om town.
Paul Laurence Dunbar
Look! the round-cheeked moon floats high,
In the glowing August sky,
Quenching all her neighbor stars,
Save the steady flame of Mars.
Once, in the city of Kalamazoo,
The gods went walking, two and two,
With the friendly phoenix, the stars of Orion,
The speaking pony and singing lion.
Shall I compare you my friend
With a flower:
You would smell better than a rose
From you, one drop of honey
THE Butterfly, an idle thing,
Nor honey makes, nor yet can sing,
As do the bee and bird;
Nor does it, like the prudent ant,
Now swarthy Summer, by rude health embrowned,
Precedence takes of rosy fingered Spring;
And laughing Joy, with wild flowers prank'd, and crown'd,
A wild and giddy thing,
If I were Lord of Tartary,
Myself, and me alone,
My bed should be of ivory,
Of beaten gold my throne;
Walter De La Mare
Bee's Of Earth
They run looking for the sweet side of you,
but never the bitter side of you,
they dance to all the music you play,
but never to see the pain in your hand's as you drum,
Afe Tosin Shola