Today's poet

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Hes

It's great to see new faces on here...another unknown one to me and some good stuff contained within, thanks Deejay

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Are your refering to the Ambrosia Kid or Deejay as the unknown one?

I rose to the ridge
Our eyes met, a shared moment
Deer bounded. Gone.

Another great night of posts. Hello to all new and old.

Joy and Pleasure

NOW, joy is born of parents poor,
And pleasure of our richer kind;
Though pleasure's free, she cannot sing
As sweet a song as joy confined.

Pleasure's a Moth, that sleeps by day
And dances by false glare at night;
But Joy's a Butterfly, that loves
To spread its wings in Nature's light.

Joy's like a Bee that gently sucks
Away on blossoms its sweet hour;
But pleasure's like a greedy Wasp,
That plums and cherries would devour.

Joy's like a Lark that lives alone,
Whose ties are very strong, though few;
But Pleasure like a Cuckoo roams,
Makes much acquaintance, no friends true.

Joy from her heart doth sing at home,
With little care if others hear;
But pleasure then is cold and dumb,
And sings and laughs with strangers near.

W.H. Davies

Quote:

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Originally Posted by XRunner

Are your refering to the Ambrosia Kid or Deejay as the unknown one?

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Ha ha...neither, just the poem that Deejay posted. So many ways to be misunderstood.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Mossdog

Joy and Pleasure

NOW, joy is born of parents poor,
And pleasure of our richer kind;
Though pleasure's free, she cannot sing
As sweet a song as joy confined.

Pleasure's a Moth, that sleeps by day
And dances by false glare at night;
But Joy's a Butterfly, that loves
To spread its wings in Nature's light.

Joy's like a Bee that gently sucks
Away on blossoms its sweet hour;
But pleasure's like a greedy Wasp,
That plums and cherries would devour.

Joy's like a Lark that lives alone,
Whose ties are very strong, though few;
But Pleasure like a Cuckoo roams,
Makes much acquaintance, no friends true.

Joy from her heart doth sing at home,
With little care if others hear;
But pleasure then is cold and dumb,
And sings and laughs with strangers near.

W.H. Davies

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He is good isn't he. He's got to be one of my favourites. Poor chap only had one foot!

I've really been enjoying your choices Moss Dog. I am also pleased that you and HHH have introduced me to a poet whose work I hardly know. That's another of the great things about this thread. You never know what you will discover on it.

I can't thank HHH enough for introducing me to this poet. Here's another lovely example of his work...

Come, Let Us Find

COME, let us find a cottage, love,
That's green for half a mile around;
To laugh at every grumbling bee,
Whose sweetest blossom's not yet found.

Where many a bird shall sing for you,
And in your garden build its nest:
They'll sing for you as though their eggs
Were lying in your breast,
My love--
Were lying warm in your soft breast.

'Tis strange how men find time to hate,
When life is all too short for love;
But we, away from our own kind,
A different life can live and prove.

And early on a summer's morn,
As I go walking out with you,
We'll help the sun with our warm breath
To clear away the dew,
My love,
To clear away the morning dew.

W.H. Davies

Eeeh. Ain't that lovely.:):)

Its nice when you find just the perfect one for the way you see life.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Mossdog

I can't thank HHH enough for introducing me to this poet. Here's another lovely example of his work...

Come, Let Us Find

COME, let us find a cottage, love,
That's green for half a mile around;
To laugh at every grumbling bee,
Whose sweetest blossom's not yet found.

Where many a bird shall sing for you,
And in your garden build its nest:
They'll sing for you as though their eggs
Were lying in your breast,
My love--
Were lying warm in your soft breast.

'Tis strange how men find time to hate,
When life is all too short for love;
But we, away from our own kind,
A different life can live and prove.

And early on a summer's morn,
As I go walking out with you,
We'll help the sun with our warm breath
To clear away the dew,
My love,
To clear away the morning dew.

W.H. Davies

Eeeh. Ain't that lovely.:):)

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I'm Ready.

I sometimes wonder whether to carry on,
It seems such hard work I've been at it too long,
I don't have the energy my will has gone,
And i have sung my final song.

It's nearly two score years i've battled with this,
Please don't let me see another day,
I'm ready now to receive the angels kiss,
Time for me to slowly slip away.

I hear nothing all around me is silent,
My maker i will meet i know that this is right,
Almost there now i shall not repent,
The time is now to slip into eternal night.

By Matt Harmston.