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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
I said,-for Love was laggard, O, Love was slow to come,-
“I'll hear his step and know his step when I am warm in bed;
But I'll never leave my pillow, though there be some
As would let him in-and take him in with tears!” I said.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
A Servant To Servants
I didn't make you know how glad I was
To have you come and camp here on our land.
I promised myself to get down some day
And see the way you lived, but I don't know!
I am just like a drop of the rain,
That success I always gain.
To live a meaningful life is main,
My dreams are long like a train.
Deep In Silence
i stared at all my stars as each one fell to the ground
i opened my mouth to scream but failed to make a single sound
The serpent's tail wrapped all around my body as i fight to breathe
Making all these decisions, contemplating, wondering where they'll all lead
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
Calm as no stories heard, Days to count: in white you vowed,
Eight years together for you money mattered,
In House of God you called each other brother and sister,
You blood related, blood related, Technologies never lie
Beware Of Dogs
No Fela and son could tell of
this present roaring Government.
We would soon forget this forgery pain
upon the odours the land created.
John Chizoba Vincent
Joy, what could be more eperetising than the Joy of life. what is life without joy. Love it can be given and it can never be taken. What is life like without being loved.
There is a million of things that I would rather do than love another. I would count stars day to day admiring each and everyone of them. I am greedy in nature. I do nothing which is temporary. my main reason why I would spend a lifetime counting stars. No matter how many I count each day the end is never near .
“Jessie, Jessie Cameron,
Hear me but this once,” quoth he.
“Good luck go with you, neighbor's son,
But I'm no mate for you,” quoth she.
Life Is A Circus
A young lad blossoms from a petal,
Many challenges to come and yet to settle.
Here begins life's crazy circus,
To be happy but yet sometimes serious.
The Trail Of Ninety-eight
Gold! We leapt from our benches. Gold! We sprang from our stools.
Gold! We wheeled in the furrow, fired with the faith of fools.
Fearless, unfound, unfitted, far from the night and the cold,
Heard we the clarion summons, followed the master-lure-Gold!
O happy soul, forget thy self!
This that has haunted all the past,
That conjured disappointments fast,
That never could let well alone;
Thomas Sturge Moore
The Holy Fair
A note of seeming truth and trust
Hid crafty observation;
And secret hung, with poison'd crust,
The dirk of defamation:
My mother she had children five and four are dead and gone;
While I, least worthy to survive, persist in living on.
She looks at me, I must confess, sometimes with spite and bitterness.
Nine months in my mother's womb was the most wonderful phase of her life, And my first step into the unknown then- Was the most beautiful moment she cherished; Unawareness and uncertainties my future held- Yet she did all that she could do to make it bright and beautiful. But only if dreams could turn into reality, I would have been a better child to her then;
I shattered her hopes and dreams- Compelled her to walk the path of guilt and shame, And now she only
sits wondering, where she went wrong, That transformed me to a person who now hardly remembers Mother's sweet songs.
Importance of my life has vanished, In the fog of wants and selfishness- Getting high and getting my kicks, Are the things that I now only embrace; I steal, I cheat and manipulate, Just to get the substance of my choice, I do weird and unsocial acts- Just to satisfy my Euphoric Thirst.
From what portion of my mind do my thoughts come from?
If only I knew,
there would be many I'm sure.
In Virgil's Sacred Verse we find,
That Passion can depress or raise
The Heav'nly, as the Human Mind:
Who dare deny what Virgil says?
My heart is what it was before,
A house where people come and go;
But it is winter with your love,
The sashes are beset with snow.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
In Praise Of Limestone
If it form the one landscape that we, the inconstant ones,
Are consistently homesick for, this is chiefly
Because it dissolves in water. Mark these rounded slopes
With their surface fragrance of thyme and, beneath,
W. H. Auden
MALLO lero iss im bo nero!
Go where they're threshing and find me my lover,
Mallo lero iss im bo bairn!
The three stood listening to a fresh access
Of wind that caught against the house a moment,
Gulped snow, and then blew free again-the Coles
Dressed, but dishevelled from some hours of sleep,
I Walk a thousand steps on you and you wouldn't complain.
I Throw my waist on you and you would not stop smiling.
All I am to you is a virus under you skin meant to protect and harvest.
What can I do when I am misled by all the earthly beings.
“Traveller, what lies over the hill?
Traveller, tell to me:
Tip-toe-high on the window-sill
Over I cannot see.”
The Songs Of Selma
ARGUMENTAddress to the evening star:
An apostrophe to Fingal and his times. Minonasings before the king the song of the unfortunate Colma; and the bards exhibit other specimens of their poetical talents; according to an annual custom established by the monarchs of the ancient Caledonians.
â??COME hither, my Sparrows,
My little arrows.
If a tear or a smile
Will a man beguile,
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,