A Welcome

Come in the evening, or come in the morning,
Come when you’re looked for, or come without warning,
Kisses and welcomes you’ll find here before you,
And the oftener you come here the more I’ll adore you.

THOMAS O. DAVIS

The Night Has a Thousand Eyes

The night has a thousand eyes,
And the day but one;
Yet the light of the bright world dies
With the dying sun.

The mind has a thousand eyes,
And the heart but one;
Yet the light of a whole life dies
When love is done.

FRANCIS WILLIAM BOURDILLON

If You Made Gentler the Churlish World

If you have spoken something beautiful,
Or touched the dead canvas to life,
Or made the cold stone to speak --
You who know the secret heart of beauty;
If you have done one thing
That has made gentler the churlish world,
Though mankind pass you by,
And feed and clothe you grudgingly --
Though the world starve you,
And God answer not your nightly prayers,
And you grow old hungering still at heart,
And walk friendless in your way,
And lie down at last forgotten --
If all this befall you who have created beauty,
You shall still leave a bequest to the world
Greater than institutions and riches and commerce,
And by the immutable law of the human heart
The God of the universe is your debtor,
If you have made gentler the churlish world.

MAX EHRMANN

Love

I love you,
Not only for what you are,
But for what I am
When I am with you,
I love you,
Not only for what
You have made of yourself
But for what
You are making of me.

I love you
For the part of me
That you bring out;
I love you
For putting your hand
Into my heaped-up heart
And passing over
All the foolish, weak things
That you can’t help
Dimly seeing there,
And for drawing out
Into the light
All the beautiful belongings
That no one else had looked
Quite far enough to find.
Winter’s cold, or summer’s heat,
Autumn’s tempests, on it beat,
It can never know defeat,
Never can rebel.

Such the love that I could gain,
Such the love, I tell thee plain,
Thou must give, or woo in vain;
So to thee, farewell!
Love me little, love me long,
Is the burden of my song.

ANONYMOUS

Together

You and I by this lamp with these
Few books shut out the world. Our knees
Touch almost in this little space.
But I am glad. I see your face
The silences are long, but each
Hears the other without speech.
And in this simple scene there is
The essence of all subtleties,
The freedom from all fret and smart,
The one sure Sabbath of the heart.

The world – we cannot conquer it,
Not change the minds of fools one whit.
Here, here alone do we create
Beauty and peace inviolate;
Here night by night and hour by hour
We build a high impregnable tower
Whence may shine, now and again,
A light to light the feet of men
When they see the rays thereof:
And this is marriage, this is love.

LUDWIG LEWISOHN

All Paths Leads to You

All paths lead to you
Where e’er I stray,
You are the evening star
At the end of day.

All paths lead to you
Hill-top or low,
You are the white birch
In the sun’s glow.

All paths lead to you
Where e’er I roam.
You are the lark-song
Calling me home!

BLANCHE SHOEMAKER WAGSTAFF

These are very beautiful A~G.Thank You!for sharing them with us.I like
them very much.Excellent read.Godspeed!Cybear

Since you have one by Max Eharmann, you may as well include his best
known:

DESIDERATA

Go placidly amid the noise and haste and remember what peace there may
be in silence. As far as possible without surrender be on good terms
with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to
others; even the dull and ignorant; they too have their story.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexatious to the spirit. If
you compare yourself with others, you may become vain and bitter; for
always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself. Enjoy
your achievements as well as your plans.

Keep interested in oyur own career however humble; it is a real
posession in the changing fortunes of time. Exercise caution in your
business affairs; for the world is full of trickery. But let this not
blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals;
and everywhere life is full of heroism

Be yourself. Espacially, do not feign affection. Neither be cynical
about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is
perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things
of youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with imaginings. Many fears are born of
fatigue and loneliness. Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with
yourself.

You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no
doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be, and
whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life
keep peace with your soul

With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful
world. Be cheerful. Strive to be happy

MAX EHRMANN 1927

Thank you!!!

Let's create a mood here ... I hope everyone posts their favourites...by
anyone

Nightfall

I need so much the quiet of your love
After the day’s loud strife;
I need your calm all other things above
After the stress of life.

I crave the haven that in your dear heart lies,
After all toil is done,
I need the star shine of your heavenly eyes,
After the day’s great sun.

CHARLES HANSON TOWNE

NIGHT ON THE ISLAND


All night I have slept with you
next to the sea, on the island.
Wild and sweet you were between pleasure and sleep,

Perhaps very late
our dreams joined
at the top or at the bottom,
up above like branches moved by a common wind,
down below like red roots that touch.

Perhaps your dream
drifted from mine
and through the dark sea
was seeking me
as before,
when you did not yet exist,
when without sighting you
I sailed by your side,
and your eyes sought
what now –
bread, wine, love, and anger –
I heap upon you
because you are the cup
that was waiting for the gifts of my life.

I have slept with you
all night long while
the dark earth spins
with the living and the dead,
and on waking suddenly
in the midst of the shadow
my arm encircled your waist.

Neither night nor sleep
could separate us.

I have slept with you
and on waking, your mouth,
come from your dream,
gave me the taste of earth,
of sea water, of seaweed,
of the depths of your life,
and I received your kiss
moistened by the dawn as if it came to me
from the sea that surrounds us.

PABLO NERUDA

"The Bear"

The bear puts both arms around the tree above him
And draws it down as if it were a lover,
And its choke cherries lips to kiss good-bye
Then lets it snap back upright in the sky.

His next step rocks a boulder on the wall
He's making his cross-country in the fall,
His great weight creaks the barbed-wire in it's staples
As he flings over and off down through the maples.

Leaving on one wire moth a lock of hair
Such is the uncaged progress of the bear,
The world has room to make a bear feel free
The universe seems cramped to you and me.

Man acts more like the poor bear in a cage
That all day fights a nervous inward rage,
His mood rejecting all his mind suggests
He paces back and forth and never rests.

The constant click and shuffle of his feet
The telescope at one end of his beat,
And at the other end the microscope
Two instruments of nearly equal hope.

And in conjunction giving quite a spread
Or if he rests from scientific tread,
Tis only to sit back and sway his head
Through ninety odd degrees of arc it seems.

Between two metaphysical extremes
He sits back on his fundamental butt,
With lifted snout and eyes(if any)shut
lie almost looks religious but he's not.

And back and forth he sways from cheek to cheek
At one extreme agreeing with one Greek,
At the other agreeing with another Greek
Which may be thought,but only so to speak,
A baggy figure,equally pathetic
When sedentary and when peripatetic.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
p.s.This poem was written by one of the finest
writers ever known to Man.{Robert Lee Frost}.
Certainly one of my all time fav.Author/Poet
Written by Robert.L.Frost/Humbely submitted by Cybear.

Thank you Cybear! I love Frost!

Your most welcome sweetheart.His hometown ironically is from my
state"Mass"I was hooked on him at 8 yrs.old & never looked back.For
without him I would of never tried my hand @ Poetry.For this I am
eternally grateful to the master Poet;Robert L.Frost{LUV HIM}
Your bearific friend,Cybear;=)~(((bear~hug)

nice thread AG

Pour toi mon amour

Je suis allé au marché aux oiseaux
Et j'ai acheté des oiseaux
Pour toi
Mon amour
Je suis allé au marché aux fleurs
Et j'ai acheté des fleurs
Pour toi
Mon amour
Je suis allé au marché à la ferraille
Et j'ai acheté des chaînes
De lourdes chaînes
Pour toi
Mon amour
Et je suis allé au marché aux esclaves
Et je t'ai cherchée
Mais je ne t'ai pas trouvée
Mon amour



Jacques Prevert

La grasse matinée


Il est terrible
Le petit bruit de l'oeuf dur cassé sur un comptoir d'étain
Il est terrible ce bruit
Quand il remue dans la mémoire de l'homme qui a faim
Elle est terrible aussi dans la tête de l'homme
La tête de l'homme qui a faim
Quand il se regarde à six heures du matin
Dans la glace du grand magasin
Une tête couleur de poussière
Ce n'est pas sa tête pourtant qu'il regarde
Dans la vitrine de chez Potin
Il s'en fout de sa tête l'homme
Il n'y pense pas
Il songe
Il imagine une autre tête
Une tête de veau par exemple
Avec une sauce de vinaigre
Ou une tête de n'importe quoi qui se mange
Et il remue doucement la mâchoire
Doucement
Et il grince des dents doucement
Car le monde se paye sa tête
Et il ne peut rien contre ce monde
Et il compte sur ses doigts un deux trois
Un deux trois
Cela fait trois jours qu'il n'a pas mangé
Et il a beau se répéter depuis trois jours
Ca ne peut pas durer
Ca dure
Trois jours
Trois nuits
Sans manger
Et derrière ces vitres
Ces pâtés ces bouteilles ces conserves
Poissons morts protégés par les boîtes
Boîtes protégées par les vitres
Vitres protégées par les flics
Flics protégés par la crainte
Que de barricades pour six malheureuses sardines..
Un peu plus loin le bistrot
Café-crême et croissants chauds
L'homme titube
Et dans l'intérieur de sa tête
Un brouillard de mots
Un brouillard de mots
Sardines à manger
Oeuf dur café-crème
Café arrosé rhum
Café-crème
Café-crème
Café-crime arrosé sang !...
Un homme très estimé dans son quartier
a été égorgé en plein jour
L'assassin le vagabond lui a volé
Deux francs
Soit un café arrosé
Zéro franc soixante-dix
Deux tartines beurrées
Et vingt-cinq centimes pour le pourboire du garçon.


Jacques Prevert

Le cancre


Il dit non avec la tête
Mais il dit oui avec le coeur
Il dit oui à ce qu'il aime
Il dit non au professeur
Il est debout
On le questionne
Et tous les problèmes sont posés
Soudain le fou rire le prend
Et il efface tout
Les chiffres et les mots
Les dates et les noms
Les phrases et les pièges
Et malgré les menaces du maître
Sous les huées des enfants prodiges
Avec des craies de toutes les couleurs
Sur le tableau noir du malheur
Il dessine le visage du bonheur.



Jacques Prevert

Le jardin

Des milliers et des milliers d'années
Ne sauraient suffire
Pour dire
La petite seconde d'éternité
Où tu m'as embrassé
Où je t'ai embrassèe
Un matin dans la lumière de l'hiver
Au parc Montsouris à Paris
A Paris
Sur la terre
La terre qui est un astre.

Jacques Prevert

Thank you s1ow!

I have no idea what they say yet the resonance of them spoken aloud
still feels beautiful.