Sourabh2/Poem_MultiM · Datasets at Hugging Face

image imagewidth (px) 212 500	prompt stringlengths 26 698
	keep busy with tasks that inspire you motivate you or please you
	blossoms will run away cakes reign but a day but memory like melody is pink eternally
	happiness is like a butterfly which when pursued is always beyond our grasp but if you will sit down quietly may alight upon you
	move him into the sun gently its touch awoke him once at home whispering of fields unsown always it awoke him even in france until this morning and this snow if anything might rouse him now the kind old sun will know think how it wakes the seeds woke once the clays of a cold star are limbs so dear-achieved are sides
	you'll remember me when the west wind moves among the fields of barley you can tell the sun in his jealous sky when we walked in fields of gold so she took her love for to gaze awhile among the fields of barley in his arms she fell as her hair came down among the fields of gold will you stay with me will you be my love among the fields of barley
	my death is like a swinging door a patient girl who knows the score whistle for her and the passing time my death waits like a bible truth at the funeral of my youth weep loud for that and the passing time
	life is about creating moments like open water life is unpredictable yet beautiful there are so many opportunities to grasp but only if we take the risk we do not know the future but we create a path towards one follow your heart take chances and embrace life be there
	where light materializes and exile ceases search search for wonder
	faults and flaws in granite reside 'neath the coin of genius shame and sorrow hide from a thorny stem springs the rose blur cradles sharpness while light from shadow grows
	hands - ten fingers disabled abandoned absolutely useless to anyone blind
	in this world of change nothing which comes stays and nothing which goes is lost
	it's sad to find a thorn when looking for a rose and sad for someone to refuse the friendship one day they might use friendship is a flower that a few times grows if it appears in your garden preserve it for life
	at the window sparrow twitter nobody knows how birds die
	a wet sheet and a flowing sea a wind that follows fast and fills the white and rustling sail and bends the gallant mast
	there rest the air is soft and sweet in this sequestered forest glade and there are scents of flowers around the evening dew draws from the ground how soothingly they spread
	i find myself at the extremity on a long beach how gladly does the spirit leap forth and suddenly enlarge its sense of being to the full extent of the broad blue sunny deep a greeting and homage to the sea
	i think that the leaf of a tree the meanest insect on which we trample are in themselves arguments more conclusive than any which can be adduced that some vast intellect animates infinity
	happiness is like a butterfly which when pursued is always beyond our grasp but if you will sit down quietly may alight upon you
	thy sun shall no more go down neither shall thy moon withdraw itself for the lord shall be thine everlasting light and the days of thy mourning shall be ended
	letter writing is the only device for combining solitude with good company
	two roads diverged in a yellow wood and sorry i could not travel both and be one traveler long i stood and looked down one as far as i could to where it bent in the undergrowth then took the other as just as fair and having perhaps the better claim because it was grassy and wanted wear though as for that the passing there had worn them really about the same
	please take a seat prix fixe wine pairings please order ala carte breathe in take off your shoes don't forget to tip take a seat remember the view don't repeat
	all my dreams are paintings coloured memories and desires in my dream my future bride was flying past a painted clock that had wings that made time fly and the musician playing the violin laughed as he played a wedding march and i cried tears of milk from a floating cow as the cock crowed
	autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower
	a fine and subtle spirit dwells in every little flower each one its own sweet feeling breathes with more or less of power there is a silent eloquence in every wild bluebell that fills my softened heart with bliss that words could never tell
	we all have our own life to pursue our own kind of dream to be weaving and we all have the power to make wishes come true as long as we keep believing
	the moment one give close attention to anything even a blade of grass it becomes a mysterious awesome indescribably magnificent world in itself
	i saw you at night in the plain of dreams and you were the fairest dream as a white heron of silence as a white heron of the waters i wished i could fly against the stars together with your universal light both naked in the sheet of passion where desire reaches its end hands like candlesticks of love
	gay stars little stars you are little eyes eyes of baby angels playing in the skies now and then a winged child turns his merry face down toward the spinning world what a funny place
	i am much too alone in this world yet not alone enough to truly consecrate the hour i am much too small in this world yet not small enough to be to you just object and thing dark and smart i want my free will and want it accompanying the path which leads to action and want during times that beg questions
	razors pain you rivers are damp acids stain you and drugs cause cramp guns aren't lawful nooses give gas smells awful you might as well live
	have we not seen purple of the pansy out of the mulch and mold crawl into a dusk of velvet blur of yellow almost we thought from nowhere but it was the silence the future
	earth's crammed with heaven and every common bush afire with god but only he who sees takes off his shoes
	my love is like a red red rose thats newly sprung in june my love is like the melody thats sweetly played in tune as fair art thou my bonnie lass so deep in love am i and i will love thee still my dear till a the seas gang dry till a the seas gang dry my dear and the rocks melt wi the sun
	dandelion in flight drifting out of sight fallowing the light between black and white find the rainbow
	he came home said nothing it was clear though that something had gone wrong he lay down fully dressed pulled the blanket over his head tucked up his knees he's nearly forty but not at the moment he exists just as he did inside his mother's womb clad in seven walls of skin in sheltered darkness tomorrow he'll give a lecture on homeostasis in metagalactic cosmonautics
	i'm a little teapot short and stout here is my handle here is my spout when i get all steamed up hear me shout tip me over and pour me out
	of living pained branches my garden's braided body cries at night calling on the billowing of birds's wings the moon's face wet amid leaves peers into nests full of absence green fingers tremble clasped tight on the wind's throat dawn
	they dined on mince and slices of quince which they ate with a runcible spoon and hand in hand on the edge of the sand they danced by the light of the moon
	lambs that learn to walk in snow when their bleating clouds the air meet a vast unwelcome know nothing but a sunless glare newly stumbling to and fro all they find outside the fold is a wretched width of cold as they wait beside the ewe her fleeces wetly caked there lies hidden round them waiting too
	my heart pieced together no glue no nylon steel or bamboo only impermanence when the timing is right it will fray fall apart into the wind to dissipate decay and fertilize the new sapling growing within
	ance there upon the shore what need have you to care for wind or water's roar and tumble out your hair that the salt drops have wet being young you have not known the fool's triumph nor yet love lost as soon as won nor the best labourer dead and all the sheaves to bind
	music hath charms to soothe a savage breast to soften rocks or bend a knotted oak
	we think too small like the frog at the bottom of the well he thinks the sky is only as big as the top of the well if he surfaced he would have an entirely different view
	the leaves had a wonderful frolic they danced to the wind's loud song they whirled and they floated and scampered they circled and flew along the moon saw the little leaves dancing each looked like a small brown bird the man in the moon smiled and listened and this is the song he heard the north wind is calling is calling and we must whirl round and round
	the artist is a receptacle for the emotions that come from all over the place from the sky from the earth from a scrap of paper from a passing shape from a spider's web
	our souls sit close and silently within and their own webs from their own entrails spin and when eyes meet far off our sense is such that spider-like we feel the tenderest touch
	an idea like a ghost must be spoken to a little before it will explain itself
	there is something about a martini a tingle remarkably pleasant a yellow a mellow martini i wish i had one at present there is something about a martini ere the dining and dancing begin and to tell you the truth it is not the vermouth i think that perhaps it's the gin
	long gone summer on the mountain slope my eyes have stopped colours fall frail from tall branches ripe carpeting my way up with crispy clouds
	footfalls echo in the memory down the passage which we did not take towards the door we never opened into the rose-garden
	tender words we spoke to one another are sealed in the secret vaults of heaven one day like rain they will fall to earth and grow green all over the world
	light is a thing that cannot be reproduced but must be represented by something else by color
	did you hear about the rose that grew from a crack in the concrete proving nature's law is wrong it learned to walk with out having feet funny it seems but by keeping it's dreams it learned to breathe fresh air long live the rose that grew from concrete when no one else ever cared
	deep in december it's nice to remember although you know the snow will follow deep in december it's nice to remember without a hurt the heart is hollow
	the air is like a butterfly with frail blue wings the happy earth looks at the sky and sings
	little boy blue come blow your horn the sheep's in the meadow the cow's in the corn where's the boy who looks after the sheep he's under the haystack fast asleep
	when i admire the wonder of a sunset or the beauty of the moon my soul expands in worship of the creator
	the windows of my soul i throw wide open to the sun
	i am of flowers of a bird wing the wind lives within me when unfurled i catch it raindrops of green rain awaken me with spring and i rub my eyes
	like the candle burns away she burned out like the flame goes away she went out like the dream is gone she died out how did you get that lonely what made you took that call just as if nothing had happened you are gone and i am here
	of living pained branches my garden's braided body cries at night calling on the billowing of birds's wings the moon's face wet amid leaves peers into nests full of absence green fingers tremble clasped tight on the wind's throat dawn
	i was sitting drumming thinking thumping pondering the mysteries of life outside the city shrieking screaming whispering the mysteries of life theres a funeral tomorrow at st patricks the bells will ring for you ah what must you have been thinking when you realized the time had come for you i wish i hadnt thrown away my time on so much human and so much less divine
	i dreamed that i stood in a valley and amid sighs for happy lovers passed two by two where i stood and i dreamed my lost love came stealthily out of the wood with her cloud-pale eyelids falling on dream-dimmed eyes i cried in my dream o women bid the young men lay their heads on your knees and drown their eyes with your fair or remembering hers they will find no other face fair till all the valleys of the world have been withered away
	flowers always make people better happier and more helpful they are sunshine food and medicine to the soul
	the sun will not rise or set without my notice and thanks the life i have chosen gives me hours of enjoyment for the balance of my life
	if a man knows not what harbor he seeks any wind is the right wind
	the door at the end appears closer now i knew it was always there but it was often shrouded in the fog of time i walk slowly aware of every step taking time to feel the sunlight among the shadows aware of every color
	silent oh moyle be the roar of thy water break not ye breezes your chain of repose while murmuring mournfully lir's lonely daughter tell's to the night-star her tale of woes when shall the swan her death-note singing sleep with wings in darkness furl'd when will heaven its sweet bell ringing call my spirit from this stormy world sadly oh moyle to thy winter-wave weeping fate bids me languish long ages away
	time sometimes flies like a bird sometimes crawls like a snail but a man is happiest when he does not even notice whether it passes swiftly or slowly
	a frozen heart the body shaked and iced if i had the location the direction i could become your guardian in the darkness the tears reflect the moonlight it directs where you are with a smile to wish the peace arrives from the silence
	so drifts this summer evening down the wye weary river from withered valleys worn forging through rocks your passage to the sea seared by the wind in cadences stillborn dusk now slithers down your silky way while sullen willows slow the waters flow and fluttering leaves their ambient music play as salmon snatch at flies in sunset glow now i my fond farewells must say with pain oh fickle water on a constant bed
	your laughter take bread away from me if you wish take air away but do not take from me your laughter do not take away the rose the lance flower that you pluck the water that suddenly bursts forth in joy the sudden wave of silver born in you
	drifting leaves in the autumn air farewell song
	something happened to mum between the altar and the sanctuary theatre and intensive care someone was careless and for an eternitys instant her brain was starved the stroke killing her oesophagus muscles made her last week a desert where her only thought was for liquid refreshment
	shed no tear no shed no tear the flow'r will bloom another year
	one small positive thought in the morning can change your whole day
	the bell strikes one we take no note of time but from its loss
	i am the daughter of earth and water and the nursling of the sky i pass through the pores of the ocean and shores i change but cannot die for after the rain when with never a stain the pavilion of heaven is bare and the winds and sunbeams with their convex gleams build up in the blue dome of air i silently laugh at my own cenotaph and out of the caverns of rain
	two roads diverged in a wood and i i took the one less traveled by
	not any star burns your profile not any god remembers your name not even the wind passes where you pass for you i will create a pure day free as the wind and repeated like the blooming of the orderly waves
	the butterfly counts not months but moments and has time enough time is a wealth of change but the clock in its parody makes it mere change and no wealth let your life lightly dance on the edges of time like dew on the tip of a leaf
	is fairer far in may although it fall and die that night it was the plant of flower and light
	places ive been its a wonder you dont know me here in transit you who knew me all before it was you who woke me to wonder in the white evening
	'tis the last rose of summer left blooming alone all her lovely companions are faded and gone no flower of her kindred no rose-bud is nigh to reflect back her blushes or give sigh for sigh i'll not leave thee thou lone one to pine on the stem
	the falling leaves drift by the window the autumn leaves of red and gold i see your lips the summer kisses the sunburned hands i used to hold since you went away the days grow long and soon i'll hear ol' winter's song but i miss you most of all my darling when autumn leaves start to fall
	sometimes if you stand on the bottom rail of a bridge and lean over to watch the river slipping slowly away beneath you you will suddenly know everything there is to be known
	theres a city draped in net fisherman net and in the half light in the half light it looks like every tower is covered in webs moving and glistening and rocking its babies in rhythm as the spider of time is climbing over the ruins there were hundreds of people living here
	morning and evening maids heard the goblins cry come buy our orchard fruits come buy come buy apples and quinces lemons and oranges plump unpeckd cherries melons and raspberries bloom-down-cheekd peaches swart-headed mulberries
	the wind one brilliant day called to my soul with an odor of jasmine in return for the odor of my jasmine id like all the odor of your roses i have no roses all the flowers in my garden are dead well then ill take the withered petals and the yellow leaves and the waters of the fountain the wind left and i wept and i said to myself what have you done with the garden that was entrusted
	october gave a party the leaves by hundreds came the chestnuts oaks and maples and leaves of every name the sunshine spread a carpet and everything was grand miss weather led the dancing
	there brews he beautiful water and beautiful it always is you see it glistening in the dewdrop you hear it singing in the summer rain you see it sparkling in the ice gem when the trees seem loaded with rich jewels dancing in the hailstorm leaping foaming dashing see how it weaves a golden gauze for the setting sun and a silvery tissue for the midnight moon
	if i could make days last forever i'd save every day like a treasure and then i would spend them with you
	he clasps the craig with crooked hands close to the sun in lonely lands ringed with the azure world he stands the wrinkled sea beneath him crawls he watches from his mountain walls and like a thunderbolt he falls
	a secret place full of magic and fairy dreams where light and shadow dance together and all is never what it seems a place of peace and daylight dreaming of rustling leaves and sunlight gleaming a place for me a place for you a place for one -a place for two
	only in the awareness of the present can your hands feel the pleasant warmth of the cup only in the present can you savor the aroma taste the sweetness appreciate the delicacy if you are ruminating about the past or worrying about the future you will completely miss the experience of enjoying the cup of tea you will look down at the cup and the tea will be gone life is like that if you are not fully present you will look around and it will be gone you will have missed the feel the aroma the delicacy and beauty of life it will seem to be speeding past you the past is finished learn from it and let it go the future is not even here yet plan for it but do not waste your time worrying about it
	she reminded me that the world was really one bee yard and the same rules work fine in both places don't be afraid as no life loving bee wants to sting you don't swat don't ever think about swatting
	you must remember this a kiss is still a kiss a sigh is just a sigh the fundamental things apply as time goes by moonlight and love songs never out of date hearts full of passion jealousy and hate woman needs man and man must have his mate that no one can deny it's still the same old story a fight for love and glory
	only in art will the lion lie down with the lamb and the rose grow without thorn
	you are responsible forever for what you have tamed you are responsible for your rose

keep busy with tasks that inspire you motivate you or please you

blossoms will run away cakes reign but a day but memory like melody is pink eternally

happiness is like a butterfly which when pursued is always beyond our grasp but if you will sit down quietly may alight upon you

move him into the sun gently its touch awoke him once at home whispering of fields unsown always it awoke him even in france until this morning and this snow if anything might rouse him now the kind old sun will know think how it wakes the seeds woke once the clays of a cold star are limbs so dear-achieved are sides

you'll remember me when the west wind moves among the fields of barley you can tell the sun in his jealous sky when we walked in fields of gold so she took her love for to gaze awhile among the fields of barley in his arms she fell as her hair came down among the fields of gold will you stay with me will you be my love among the fields of barley

my death is like a swinging door a patient girl who knows the score whistle for her and the passing time my death waits like a bible truth at the funeral of my youth weep loud for that and the passing time

life is about creating moments like open water life is unpredictable yet beautiful there are so many opportunities to grasp but only if we take the risk we do not know the future but we create a path towards one follow your heart take chances and embrace life be there

where light materializes and exile ceases search search for wonder

faults and flaws in granite reside 'neath the coin of genius shame and sorrow hide from a thorny stem springs the rose blur cradles sharpness while light from shadow grows

hands - ten fingers disabled abandoned absolutely useless to anyone blind

in this world of change nothing which comes stays and nothing which goes is lost

it's sad to find a thorn when looking for a rose and sad for someone to refuse the friendship one day they might use friendship is a flower that a few times grows if it appears in your garden preserve it for life

at the window sparrow twitter nobody knows how birds die

a wet sheet and a flowing sea a wind that follows fast and fills the white and rustling sail and bends the gallant mast

there rest the air is soft and sweet in this sequestered forest glade and there are scents of flowers around the evening dew draws from the ground how soothingly they spread

i find myself at the extremity on a long beach how gladly does the spirit leap forth and suddenly enlarge its sense of being to the full extent of the broad blue sunny deep a greeting and homage to the sea

i think that the leaf of a tree the meanest insect on which we trample are in themselves arguments more conclusive than any which can be adduced that some vast intellect animates infinity

happiness is like a butterfly which when pursued is always beyond our grasp but if you will sit down quietly may alight upon you

thy sun shall no more go down neither shall thy moon withdraw itself for the lord shall be thine everlasting light and the days of thy mourning shall be ended

letter writing is the only device for combining solitude with good company

two roads diverged in a yellow wood and sorry i could not travel both and be one traveler long i stood and looked down one as far as i could to where it bent in the undergrowth then took the other as just as fair and having perhaps the better claim because it was grassy and wanted wear though as for that the passing there had worn them really about the same

please take a seat prix fixe wine pairings please order ala carte breathe in take off your shoes don't forget to tip take a seat remember the view don't repeat

all my dreams are paintings coloured memories and desires in my dream my future bride was flying past a painted clock that had wings that made time fly and the musician playing the violin laughed as he played a wedding march and i cried tears of milk from a floating cow as the cock crowed

autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower

a fine and subtle spirit dwells in every little flower each one its own sweet feeling breathes with more or less of power there is a silent eloquence in every wild bluebell that fills my softened heart with bliss that words could never tell

we all have our own life to pursue our own kind of dream to be weaving and we all have the power to make wishes come true as long as we keep believing

the moment one give close attention to anything even a blade of grass it becomes a mysterious awesome indescribably magnificent world in itself

i saw you at night in the plain of dreams and you were the fairest dream as a white heron of silence as a white heron of the waters i wished i could fly against the stars together with your universal light both naked in the sheet of passion where desire reaches its end hands like candlesticks of love

gay stars little stars you are little eyes eyes of baby angels playing in the skies now and then a winged child turns his merry face down toward the spinning world what a funny place

i am much too alone in this world yet not alone enough to truly consecrate the hour i am much too small in this world yet not small enough to be to you just object and thing dark and smart i want my free will and want it accompanying the path which leads to action and want during times that beg questions

razors pain you rivers are damp acids stain you and drugs cause cramp guns aren't lawful nooses give gas smells awful you might as well live

have we not seen purple of the pansy out of the mulch and mold crawl into a dusk of velvet blur of yellow almost we thought from nowhere but it was the silence the future

earth's crammed with heaven and every common bush afire with god but only he who sees takes off his shoes

my love is like a red red rose thats newly sprung in june my love is like the melody thats sweetly played in tune as fair art thou my bonnie lass so deep in love am i and i will love thee still my dear till a the seas gang dry till a the seas gang dry my dear and the rocks melt wi the sun

dandelion in flight drifting out of sight fallowing the light between black and white find the rainbow

he came home said nothing it was clear though that something had gone wrong he lay down fully dressed pulled the blanket over his head tucked up his knees he's nearly forty but not at the moment he exists just as he did inside his mother's womb clad in seven walls of skin in sheltered darkness tomorrow he'll give a lecture on homeostasis in metagalactic cosmonautics

i'm a little teapot short and stout here is my handle here is my spout when i get all steamed up hear me shout tip me over and pour me out

of living pained branches my garden's braided body cries at night calling on the billowing of birds's wings the moon's face wet amid leaves peers into nests full of absence green fingers tremble clasped tight on the wind's throat dawn

they dined on mince and slices of quince which they ate with a runcible spoon and hand in hand on the edge of the sand they danced by the light of the moon

lambs that learn to walk in snow when their bleating clouds the air meet a vast unwelcome know nothing but a sunless glare newly stumbling to and fro all they find outside the fold is a wretched width of cold as they wait beside the ewe her fleeces wetly caked there lies hidden round them waiting too

my heart pieced together no glue no nylon steel or bamboo only impermanence when the timing is right it will fray fall apart into the wind to dissipate decay and fertilize the new sapling growing within

ance there upon the shore what need have you to care for wind or water's roar and tumble out your hair that the salt drops have wet being young you have not known the fool's triumph nor yet love lost as soon as won nor the best labourer dead and all the sheaves to bind

music hath charms to soothe a savage breast to soften rocks or bend a knotted oak

we think too small like the frog at the bottom of the well he thinks the sky is only as big as the top of the well if he surfaced he would have an entirely different view

the leaves had a wonderful frolic they danced to the wind's loud song they whirled and they floated and scampered they circled and flew along the moon saw the little leaves dancing each looked like a small brown bird the man in the moon smiled and listened and this is the song he heard the north wind is calling is calling and we must whirl round and round

the artist is a receptacle for the emotions that come from all over the place from the sky from the earth from a scrap of paper from a passing shape from a spider's web

our souls sit close and silently within and their own webs from their own entrails spin and when eyes meet far off our sense is such that spider-like we feel the tenderest touch

an idea like a ghost must be spoken to a little before it will explain itself

there is something about a martini a tingle remarkably pleasant a yellow a mellow martini i wish i had one at present there is something about a martini ere the dining and dancing begin and to tell you the truth it is not the vermouth i think that perhaps it's the gin

long gone summer on the mountain slope my eyes have stopped colours fall frail from tall branches ripe carpeting my way up with crispy clouds

footfalls echo in the memory down the passage which we did not take towards the door we never opened into the rose-garden

tender words we spoke to one another are sealed in the secret vaults of heaven one day like rain they will fall to earth and grow green all over the world

light is a thing that cannot be reproduced but must be represented by something else by color

did you hear about the rose that grew from a crack in the concrete proving nature's law is wrong it learned to walk with out having feet funny it seems but by keeping it's dreams it learned to breathe fresh air long live the rose that grew from concrete when no one else ever cared

deep in december it's nice to remember although you know the snow will follow deep in december it's nice to remember without a hurt the heart is hollow

the air is like a butterfly with frail blue wings the happy earth looks at the sky and sings

little boy blue come blow your horn the sheep's in the meadow the cow's in the corn where's the boy who looks after the sheep he's under the haystack fast asleep

when i admire the wonder of a sunset or the beauty of the moon my soul expands in worship of the creator

the windows of my soul i throw wide open to the sun

i am of flowers of a bird wing the wind lives within me when unfurled i catch it raindrops of green rain awaken me with spring and i rub my eyes

like the candle burns away she burned out like the flame goes away she went out like the dream is gone she died out how did you get that lonely what made you took that call just as if nothing had happened you are gone and i am here

of living pained branches my garden's braided body cries at night calling on the billowing of birds's wings the moon's face wet amid leaves peers into nests full of absence green fingers tremble clasped tight on the wind's throat dawn

i was sitting drumming thinking thumping pondering the mysteries of life outside the city shrieking screaming whispering the mysteries of life theres a funeral tomorrow at st patricks the bells will ring for you ah what must you have been thinking when you realized the time had come for you i wish i hadnt thrown away my time on so much human and so much less divine

i dreamed that i stood in a valley and amid sighs for happy lovers passed two by two where i stood and i dreamed my lost love came stealthily out of the wood with her cloud-pale eyelids falling on dream-dimmed eyes i cried in my dream o women bid the young men lay their heads on your knees and drown their eyes with your fair or remembering hers they will find no other face fair till all the valleys of the world have been withered away

flowers always make people better happier and more helpful they are sunshine food and medicine to the soul

the sun will not rise or set without my notice and thanks the life i have chosen gives me hours of enjoyment for the balance of my life

if a man knows not what harbor he seeks any wind is the right wind

the door at the end appears closer now i knew it was always there but it was often shrouded in the fog of time i walk slowly aware of every step taking time to feel the sunlight among the shadows aware of every color

silent oh moyle be the roar of thy water break not ye breezes your chain of repose while murmuring mournfully lir's lonely daughter tell's to the night-star her tale of woes when shall the swan her death-note singing sleep with wings in darkness furl'd when will heaven its sweet bell ringing call my spirit from this stormy world sadly oh moyle to thy winter-wave weeping fate bids me languish long ages away

time sometimes flies like a bird sometimes crawls like a snail but a man is happiest when he does not even notice whether it passes swiftly or slowly

a frozen heart the body shaked and iced if i had the location the direction i could become your guardian in the darkness the tears reflect the moonlight it directs where you are with a smile to wish the peace arrives from the silence

so drifts this summer evening down the wye weary river from withered valleys worn forging through rocks your passage to the sea seared by the wind in cadences stillborn dusk now slithers down your silky way while sullen willows slow the waters flow and fluttering leaves their ambient music play as salmon snatch at flies in sunset glow now i my fond farewells must say with pain oh fickle water on a constant bed

your laughter take bread away from me if you wish take air away but do not take from me your laughter do not take away the rose the lance flower that you pluck the water that suddenly bursts forth in joy the sudden wave of silver born in you

drifting leaves in the autumn air farewell song

something happened to mum between the altar and the sanctuary theatre and intensive care someone was careless and for an eternitys instant her brain was starved the stroke killing her oesophagus muscles made her last week a desert where her only thought was for liquid refreshment

shed no tear no shed no tear the flow'r will bloom another year

one small positive thought in the morning can change your whole day

the bell strikes one we take no note of time but from its loss

i am the daughter of earth and water and the nursling of the sky i pass through the pores of the ocean and shores i change but cannot die for after the rain when with never a stain the pavilion of heaven is bare and the winds and sunbeams with their convex gleams build up in the blue dome of air i silently laugh at my own cenotaph and out of the caverns of rain

two roads diverged in a wood and i i took the one less traveled by

not any star burns your profile not any god remembers your name not even the wind passes where you pass for you i will create a pure day free as the wind and repeated like the blooming of the orderly waves

the butterfly counts not months but moments and has time enough time is a wealth of change but the clock in its parody makes it mere change and no wealth let your life lightly dance on the edges of time like dew on the tip of a leaf

is fairer far in may although it fall and die that night it was the plant of flower and light

places ive been its a wonder you dont know me here in transit you who knew me all before it was you who woke me to wonder in the white evening

'tis the last rose of summer left blooming alone all her lovely companions are faded and gone no flower of her kindred no rose-bud is nigh to reflect back her blushes or give sigh for sigh i'll not leave thee thou lone one to pine on the stem

the falling leaves drift by the window the autumn leaves of red and gold i see your lips the summer kisses the sunburned hands i used to hold since you went away the days grow long and soon i'll hear ol' winter's song but i miss you most of all my darling when autumn leaves start to fall

sometimes if you stand on the bottom rail of a bridge and lean over to watch the river slipping slowly away beneath you you will suddenly know everything there is to be known

theres a city draped in net fisherman net and in the half light in the half light it looks like every tower is covered in webs moving and glistening and rocking its babies in rhythm as the spider of time is climbing over the ruins there were hundreds of people living here

morning and evening maids heard the goblins cry come buy our orchard fruits come buy come buy apples and quinces lemons and oranges plump unpeckd cherries melons and raspberries bloom-down-cheekd peaches swart-headed mulberries

the wind one brilliant day called to my soul with an odor of jasmine in return for the odor of my jasmine id like all the odor of your roses i have no roses all the flowers in my garden are dead well then ill take the withered petals and the yellow leaves and the waters of the fountain the wind left and i wept and i said to myself what have you done with the garden that was entrusted

october gave a party the leaves by hundreds came the chestnuts oaks and maples and leaves of every name the sunshine spread a carpet and everything was grand miss weather led the dancing

there brews he beautiful water and beautiful it always is you see it glistening in the dewdrop you hear it singing in the summer rain you see it sparkling in the ice gem when the trees seem loaded with rich jewels dancing in the hailstorm leaping foaming dashing see how it weaves a golden gauze for the setting sun and a silvery tissue for the midnight moon

if i could make days last forever i'd save every day like a treasure and then i would spend them with you

he clasps the craig with crooked hands close to the sun in lonely lands ringed with the azure world he stands the wrinkled sea beneath him crawls he watches from his mountain walls and like a thunderbolt he falls

a secret place full of magic and fairy dreams where light and shadow dance together and all is never what it seems a place of peace and daylight dreaming of rustling leaves and sunlight gleaming a place for me a place for you a place for one -a place for two

only in the awareness of the present can your hands feel the pleasant warmth of the cup only in the present can you savor the aroma taste the sweetness appreciate the delicacy if you are ruminating about the past or worrying about the future you will completely miss the experience of enjoying the cup of tea you will look down at the cup and the tea will be gone life is like that if you are not fully present you will look around and it will be gone you will have missed the feel the aroma the delicacy and beauty of life it will seem to be speeding past you the past is finished learn from it and let it go the future is not even here yet plan for it but do not waste your time worrying about it

she reminded me that the world was really one bee yard and the same rules work fine in both places don't be afraid as no life loving bee wants to sting you don't swat don't ever think about swatting

you must remember this a kiss is still a kiss a sigh is just a sigh the fundamental things apply as time goes by moonlight and love songs never out of date hearts full of passion jealousy and hate woman needs man and man must have his mate that no one can deny it's still the same old story a fight for love and glory

only in art will the lion lie down with the lamb and the rose grow without thorn

you are responsible forever for what you have tamed you are responsible for your rose