Poems & lyrics :)

[Roadrunner3]

Capturing a beautiful, meaningful moment in time. This entire poem is a metaphor and very
nicely written.
RR3

 

[Ada Lovelace]

Just now across an open space
The moonlight uttered sound,
All moveless on a thistle’s face,
All moveless on the ground.
Faintly, faintly as a bird
Walks through the afternoon,
I heard a sound that hardly stirred -
And knew it was the moon.

The moonlight moveless in a glade,
The moonlight speaking there -
So strangely speaking sounds were made
Like colors on the air.

Who listened then and knew the sound,
And answered in his place
The moonlight moveless on the ground
And on the thistle’s face

 

[Ada Lovelace]

We must be brave to face this thing we know:
We must direct our eyes to look and see:
A little ahead of us, of you and me,
It goes before, unbeautiful and slow.
Soon we shall come to it across our way,
Pause in the dark, and draw each other near,
Feeling the pathway strange, the moment dear,
Not knowing whether to move or what to say.
And I shall feel your heart beat loud and strong
Against my heart; and you will hear a note
Cry out and die forever in my throat,
Articulate and perfect as a song.
Then, hand in kindly hand, naked to truth,
We two will walk together out of youth.

 

[Ada Lovelace]

It is a heaviness too great to bear
To know you love me; my uncertainty
Was delicate and winged as April air,
Wrapping me softly while it left me free.
Now I must bear the weight of your brown head
Always upon my heart, always your eyes
Aching behind my eyes - till I am dead.
This is the way the wind must feel in spring,
Burdened with bright aroma. This is how a lark
Pulsing with song must be afraid to sing.
When there escapes a look, a light, a word,
A part of me breaks walls and loosens tongue;
A part stays back, reluctant and too young.

 

[Ada Lovelace]

"I have been Song," the aspen breathed,
And its trembling leaves all sighed.
“I have been Love,” the linden moaned,
And I watched there…… while it died.

Then I ran up the mountainside
Where the dawn was coming clementine,
And knelt at the roots of a twisted pine;
“I have been Life,” it said.

 

[Ada Lovelace]

I have no sound but my heart’s sound,
Since love has come like fear, and bound
The earth in his soft spell, and drowned
In dreadful stillness sea and sky.

Now everything that dreams will die.

I sets my curious calm upon
Star and blossom, bird and stone,
And sigh, and suddenly everything
Is wild and still, and the pale spring
In terrible silence trembles and blooms
Like many peacocks lifting their plumes.

Who dreamed that love would come like fear?

This is that quiet, sick, and clear,
Before a thunderstorm. I hear
Only my heart beat in the hush
Ere the wind roar, the rain rush.

 

[TheGoodLight]

*presses 'Watch Thread'*

Though now that I've posted, I would be receiving alerts regardless.

 

[Ada Lovelace]

*presses 'Watch Thread'*

Though now that I've posted, I would be receiving alerts regardless.

You've made me smile! Thanks for following this thread.

 

[Ada Lovelace]

The red-lipped kiss of the departed sun
Hangs in liquid hues over the horizon;
A haze of color shoots far into the sky-arch.
A procession of scuds, transfused with purple,
Race playfully across the imponderable blue.
The lake puts on a silver gown,
Powders her hair,
And dances to the beat of a west-wind.
A skylark writes and rewrites her secret wishes
On the descending dome of heaven
Which only the silence answers and understands.

 

[Ada Lovelace]

There’s no reproach to a bird,
Whatever he does is right:
There’s no mistake to be heard
In his crying by night;
He flies for the joy of flying,
He lights for the moment’s whim,
And when he is ready for dying
The earth approves of him.

Home, to the feathered breast
Of her with the habit of song -
Home, to the neat-woven nest
Where the hours of sleep are long,
And eggs, at a waking word,
Hatch suddenly into a bird.

Essential color comes through
The medium of his wing:
Where did they mix the blue?
What imagined the ring
Of rust that circles the neck,
And feet familiar with dew,
And yellow no sable could check,
And beak unerringly true?

His proper abode is the air
And the wild vagaries of light,
Whatever he does is fair,
Whatever he feels is right.
Careless or wise or absurd.
There’s no reproach to a bird.

 

[Ada Lovelace]

Beauty was not born mutable that time:
no motion encircled it and let it go;
steady as vision and unvarying
it kept its ideal state until the dark.
Someone tears up the unsold tickets;
the doors are locked, and the terraced darkness
is left to draughts and the settling dust;
sleep advances, meeting little resistance.

We have the smoke blown on the avenue,
the expected expenses, the usual wear and tear,
the things misplaced; lost sooner or later.
Familiar hands stretched in alien gestures
will make us wonder, turning to windows
and the wind blowing out the gray east

Shall I make an answer. It is best.
Where all men’s reasoning is weak
To take the answer that is sent.
What man shall have the right to speak
Who has not dared experiment?

 

[Ada Lovelace]

To find authentic voice,
however light,
against the sea’s going -
the loud flung whiteness at the rocks and coves.

Or the rattle of keys at night,
where darkness lifts like water
under an easy keel,
and the skylark sings, whose song must be fire-like, wherever it is.

To leave the sea its line,
the hidden its element,
but to be broken there,
and to find out the place and that burning.

 

[Ada Lovelace]

When night is dark in the minds of men and evil dreams wander
Silently along the faithless shadows, it is wisdom
To hug forgetfulness like sleep, give up the banner
You once died for, skulk with the skulking spies, draw nearer
The unsuspecting camps of the remembered daylight,
Smother with crash of steel the opened, warning lips?

Think how the day once shown upon your gathered armies,
The harvests of its light; think how the pledge was given
To be the banner’s self in stress of dust and darkness
Until the day be won. Why let survival lessen
The beautiful bright helmets of the dawn impending,
Inevitable as the silence of murdered lips?

 

[ewq1938]

The first star trembles like a gilded fly
While walks the moon her web of sky.
Wish quickly. Some wish the weight of a bird,
The worth of a sigh;………. no matter: the word
Would be some language the world knows not,
Your lips be granite, the star forgot,
The spider moon be starved and dead
Before your lightest wish was said.

This is my fav so far.

 

[Ada Lovelace]

It is the silence, not the snow, we dread.
It is the silence, so emphatic now,
that terrifies the owl-eyes on the bough.
It is the keen portentousness, we said.

The owl, we said, is neither wise nor kind.
'The owl is stupid.' Then we moved away.
(The owl crouched still in vigil, still resigned.)
We searched and found no careless word to say.

And we, unlike one bird, were alien.
And cautiously we stepped along the field,
and fearfully, and knew the thoughts of men
committed to a doom forever sealed.

It is the silence, not the snow, we dread.
It is the silence, so emphatic now,
that terrifies the owl-eyes on the bough.
It is the keen portentousness, we said.

 

[afishamongmany]

It is the silence, not the snow, we dread.
It is the silence, so emphatic now,
that terrifies the owl-eyes on the bough.
It is the keen portentousness, we said.

The owl, we said, is neither wise nor kind.
'The owl is stupid.' Then we moved away.
(The owl crouched still in vigil, still resigned.)
We searched and found no careless word to say.

And we, unlike one bird, were alien.
And cautiously we stepped along the field,
and fearfully, and knew the thoughts of men
committed to a doom forever sealed.

It is the silence, not the snow, we dread.
It is the silence, so emphatic now,
that terrifies the owl-eyes on the bough.
It is the keen portentousness, we said.

Very good indeed Stanfordella. Enjoyed reading. Hope your next one isn't another 21months away.
><>

 

[Ada Lovelace]

Very good indeed Stanfordella. Enjoyed reading. Hope your next one isn't another 21months away.
><>

Thank you so much for your encouragement! I'll try to share poems a bit more often!

 

[Greatcloud]

Glad you are giving glory to Providence for the sake of insight and integrity . Check out my original musical praise songs. If you have time -Greatcloud

 

[Gianna Daniels]

can someone help me write a poem about love or about love I have writers block o tonight.

 

[Gianna Daniels]

O want to post my stories and poems i am trying to think