Today's poet

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Originally Posted by Harry H Howgill

From morn to midnight, all day through,
I laugh and play as others do,
I sin and chatter, just the same
As others with a different name.

And all year long upon the stage
I dance and tumble and do rage
So vehemently, I scarcely see
The inner and eternal me.

I have a temple I do not
Visit, a heart I have forgot,
A self that I have never met,
A secret shrine -- and yet, and yet

This sanctuary of my soul
Unwitting I keep white and whole,
Unlatched and lit, if Thou should'st care
To enter or to tarry there.

With parted lips and outstretched hands
And listening ears Thy servant stands,
Call Thou early, call Thou late,
To Thy great service dedicate.

Charles Hamilton Sorley

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Wow!!!!!!!!! loving it!:)

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Originally Posted by freckle

Evening Harry, this is really nice, i found it quite moving :)

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Evening Freckle, I just delved into one of my old books tonight and I'm enjoying finding some good stuff again.

The Shepherdess

She walks-the lady of my delight-
A shepherdess of sheep.
Her flocks are thoughts. She keeps them white;
She keeps them from the steep;
She feeds them on the fragrant height,
And folds them in for sleep.

She roams maternal hills and bright,
Dark valleys safe and deep.
Into that tender breast at night
The chastest stars may peep.
She walks-the lady of my delight-
A shepherdess of sheep.

She holds her little thoughts in sight,
Though gay they run and leap.
She is so circumspect and right;
She has her soul to keep.
She walks-the lady of my delight-
A shepherdess of sheep.

Alice Alice Meynell

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Originally Posted by Harry H Howgill

THE HOUSE BEAUTIFUL

by: Robert Louis Stevenson

• 
  
  • http://www.poetry-archive.com/a_pic.gif NAKED house, a naked moor,
  • A shivering pool before the door,
  • A garden bare of flowers and fruit
  • And poplars at the garden foot:
  • Such is the place that I live in,
  • Bleak without and bare within.
  • Yet shall your ragged moor receive
  • The incomparable pomp of eve,
  • And the cold glories of dawn
  • Behind your shivering trees be drawn;
  • And when the wind from place to place
  • Doth the unmoored cloud-galleons chase,
  • Your garden gloom and gleam again,
  • With leaping sun, with glancing rain.
  • Here shall the wizard moon ascend
  • The heavens, in the crimson end
  • Of day's declining splendour; here
  • The army of the stars appear.
  • The neighbor hollows dry or wet,
  • Spring shall with tender flowers beset;
  • And oft the morning muser see
  • Larks rising from the broomy lea,
  • And every fairy wheel and thread
  • Of cobweb dew-bediamonded.
  • When daisies go, shall winter time
  • Silver the simple grass with rime;
  • Autumnal frosts enchant the pool
  • And make the cart-ruts beautiful;
  • And when snow-bright the moor expands,
  • How shall your children clap their hands!

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Love this alot :)

Wander Thirst

Beyond the east the sunrise; Beyond the west the sea
And East and West the Wander-Thirst that will not let me be;
It works in me like madness to bid me say goodbye,
For the seas call, and the stars call, and oh! The call of the sky!

I know not where the white road runs, nor what the blue hills are,
But a man can have the sun for friend, and for his guide, a star;
And there's no end to voyaging when once the voice is heard,
For the rivers call, and the road calls, and oh! The call of a bird!

Yonder the long horizon lies, and there by night and day
The old ships draw to home again, the young ships sail away
And come I may, but go I must, and if men ask you why,
You may put the blame on the stars and the sun,
And the white road and the sky.

By Gerald Gould

Listen to Andrew Motion on Radio 3 BBC iPlayer "The Path and The Poem"

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Originally Posted by BBC

Poet and critic Andrew Motion explores the connection between
walking and writing in a series about poems that follow paths.

Broadcast on: BBC Radio 3, 11:00pm Friday 8th January 2010
Duration: 15 minutes
Available until: 11:17pm Friday 15th January 2010

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Our place in the universe.

Think you can control your time,
Impossible,fruitless,asinine,
The vice like grip of destiny,
Determines every step for thee.

Battered,broken by the universe,
A celestial toy it could have been worse,
Decisions you make all made before,
Trapped inside universal quantum law.

Let yourself the puppet be,
And at least pretend that you are free,
All mapped out from before you were born,
Let destiny take you be it's pawn.


By Matthew Harmston.

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Originally Posted by XRunner

Listen to Andrew Motion on Radio 3 BBC iPlayer "The Path and The Poem"

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thanks for this x runner i look forward to that...currently reading fr:)y

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Originally Posted by Derby Tup

I read it as a light hearted call to enjoy your life but agree its open to a huge range of interpretation. I loved the idea of being drunk on poetry! :D

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I read it as....'get the wine down yer lass!' :D....oh and enjoy the poetry too! ;)

TAIL CHASING

Running, running, here I go
To catch my tail but I'm so slow
And lagging, dragging, my behind
To try to catch up with my mind.

Tripping, falling on my tongue
That is often too high-strung,
Dropping words I have to eat
And spitting them upon my feet.

Keeping up with things today
Is harder than my words can say
For every time I think I've won,
There I fall down on my bun.

My body's old, my mind is young;
Upon a cloud, my dreams are hung
And so if you should see me cry,
You will know the cloud's passed by.

Slower, slower, now I go
Like Wisconsin winters in the snow,
So if you want to walk with me,
You'll have to slow down or me carry.