FAVOURITE POEMS

Excerpt T. S. Eliot's Four Quartets



We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
Through the unknown, unremembered gate
When the last of earth left to discover
Is that which was the beginning;
At the source of the longest river
The voice of the hidden waterfall
And the children in the apple-tree
Not known, because not looked for
But heard, half-heard, in the stillness
Between two waves of the sea.
Quick now, here, now, always—
A condition of complete simplicity
(Costing not less than everything)
And all shall be well and
All manner of thing shall be well
When the tongues of flame are in-folded
Into the crowned knot of fire
And the fire and the rose are one.

Bella wrote:

Come live with me and be my love
Christopher Marlowe

Come live with me and be my love,
And we will all the pleasures prove
That valleys, groves, hills, and fields,
Woods or steepy mountain yields.

And we will sit upon the rocks,
Seeing the shepherds feed their flocks,
By shallow rivers to whose falls
Melodious birds sing madrigals.

And I will make thee beds of roses
And a thousand fragrant posies,
A cap of flowers, and a kirtle
Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle;

A gown made of the finest wool
Which from our pretty lambs we pull;
Fair lined slippers for the cold,
With buckles of th purest gold;

A belt of straw and ivy buds,
With coral clasps and amber studs:
And if these pleasures may thee move,
Come live with me and be my love.

The shepherds' swains shall dance and sing
For thy delight each May morning:
If these delights thy mind may move,
Then live with me and be my love.
The Passionate Shepherd to His Love
Christopher Marlowe

___________________________________________

Bella. My first husband used to recite this very poem to me over the phone, when I was about 15 and we were going out. I used to be stood there blushing, on the other end of the line, wondering what pleasures he had in mind.

Very 'sensual pleasures' if you had anything to do with it.

Shine wrote:

Very 'sensual pleasures' if you had anything to do with it.

_____________________________________________________________
Well ,in the end, I was his first.

But he wasn't your first

Shine wrote:

But he wasn't your first

_________________________________

No, he wasn't.

Or your last

Shine wrote:

Or your last

____________________________________________________

I'm taking this off poems now.

I had it recited at my wedding,Magical

You are like the diamond
You glimmer and glow
And shine so brightly
Some, like me, draw close
To feel your warmth, your heat
Only to find none

You are like the diamond
You are bright and strong
But you have no warmth, or love
It's a terrible game
To play with people's hearts
Like mine

You are like the diamond
You will last longer than most
But you will have no love
No warmth to back up that bright light
So what kind of life will it be?
Besides long?

Will you regret it someday?
Regret being so much like the diamond
Regret being so cold
And look for me
A find me gone?
Can I ever leave?

No, I can never leave you
I am drawn to this cold light
This false sense of warmth you give
I keep wishing and hoping
That someday, you will give warmth
But, this will never be

Diamonds last forever

Star wrote:

A Farewell to False Love

Farewell false love, the oracle of lies,
A mortal foe and enemy to rest,
An envious boy, from whom all cares arise,
A bastard vile, a beast with rage possessed,
A way of error, a temple full of treason,
In all effects contrary unto reason.

A poisoned serpent covered all with flowers,
Mother of sighs, and murderer of repose,
A sea of sorrows whence are drawn such showers
As moisture lend to every grief that grows;
A school of guile, a net of deep deceit,
A gilded hook that holds a poisoned bait.

A fortress foiled, which reason did defend,
A siren song, a fever of the mind,
A maze wherein affection finds no end,
A raging cloud that runs before the wind,
A substance like the shadow of the sun,
A goal of grief for which the wisest run.

A quenchless fire, a nurse of trembling fear,
A path that leads to peril and mishap,
A true retreat of sorrow and despair,
An idle boy that sleeps in pleasure's lap,
A deep mistrust of that which certain seems,
A hope of that which reason doubtful deems.

Sith* then thy trains my younger years betrayed, [since]
And for my faith ingratitude I find;
And sith repentance hath my wrongs bewrayed*, [revealed]
Whose course was ever contrary to kind*: [nature]
False love, desire, and beauty frail, adieu.
Dead is the root whence all these fancies grew.

Sir Walter Raleigh

An image packed expression of a hurt mind there, Star.

Im putting this poem i here .....

A SEA-SIDE INCIDENT.






GOOD people attend, while I briefly relate,
An incident witnessed at Blackpool of late;
'Tis a picture one's fancy may easily trace,
If he lives, like myself, at some watering place.
'Twas winter, the wind whistled loud through the panes,
Nearly freezing the blood as it coursed through our veins;
The Sun, full of glory, had gone down to rest,
Behind the great ocean, far, far in the west;
The Moon, taking hold of the reins of the night,
Drove steadily on in her chariot of light;
The Stars, her attendants, were twinkling on high,
As if proud of their posts in that wintry sky.
'Twas a bitter cold night for the shelterless poor,
When a rather loud tapping was heard at my door,
Which I hastened to open, when lo! and behold,
A poor ragged urchin stood there in the cold.
He was tattered and shoeless, his poor little feet
I could see were exposed to the cold of the street.
With feelings of sadness I gazed on the lad,
As he stood on my doorstep so scantily clad;
And I thought of my own, with their bright curly heads.
So nicely, so snugly asleep in their beds;
And my feelings, which I could no longer disguise.
Were expressed in the tear-drops that stood in mine eyes.
The Moon, which awhile had been hid from our sight,
Behind a dark cloud, now poured down her light,
And her silvery beams, falling full on the face
Of that child as he stood there, methought I could trace
Some resemblance to one lately ta'en from us here
To bask in a fairer and happier sphere.
With pity and sadness pourtrayed on my brow,
I addressed him, and said, my dear lad, who art thou
That cometh to us in this pitiable plight,
Exposed to the cold of this bleak winter night?
I fear thou art some wild, untractable youth,
Disobeying thy parents; come tell me the truth.
His eyes, which were hitherto hid from my gaze,
Now anxiously, pleadingly, looked in my face,
And his half-covered bosom seemed throbbing with grief;
So I said, "Speak out, child, it may give thee relief."
He spoke, and these words pierced me right to the heart,
"Dun yo want ony mussels, threeaupence a quart?"

I enjoyed reading that, Star. Did you write it.

Shine wrote:

I enjoyed reading that, Star. Did you write it.

I wish i did ...I thought it was very moving .

The summer sun is back again,
as the desert starts to swelter.
Its so hot the bugs all hide,
and animals hunt for shelter.

Plants dry up and blow away,
and streams just seem to fade.
Some times it gets so hot,
its over 100 in the shade.

Tar bubbles up from the road,
as the sun brings it to boil.
Dirt dries out and turns to sand,
with huge cracks in the soil.

There's no rain in sight for now,
as the sun dries up the clouds.
People flock towards the lakes,
seems they draw the biggest crowds.

Cowboy hats with wide brims,
are worn by lots of folks.
The sun beating down all day,
can be the cause of many strokes.

Even though the desert is pretty,
it can become a deadly trap.
Every year you hear a tail,
someone died while taking a nap.

The desert is no place to play,
when you are not prepared.
The sun has no mercy,
as no one will be spared.

That's a nice little poem, Star.