What Will Come?

There's a stirring in the air

On this lazy August day

i can feel it coming if i dare...

New and exciting in a way

Wait! amidst the wind...there it is!

The clouds darken together

More...a feeling more, but not of bliss

Strange how this feeling creeps over me because of weather

But i feel it growing stronger

In my soul and in my mind

Is it gone...or is there more

If i stay what will i find?

Maybe the skies are warning me

Of something that is to come

Cause the blackness is prevailing and i cannot see the sun

The trees bend their branches back and the wind doth hum

But here i still stand waiting to see what will

Come...

- CSL-

Pretty Times Gone

Where have all the pretty times gone?
The days were filled with jokes and giddy laughter.
I miss hearing the birds make fun of our careless ways,
And hearing our voices dance up to the rafters.

Where have all the pretty times gone?
Hand in hand, we drank from immaculate streams.
We disregarded all material things,
We played with words and we played with dreams.

Where have all the pretty times gone?
We basked in the light arrayed by the sun.
But when it rained we danced, exalting the heavens,
Letting the drops melt into our tongues.

Where have all the pretty times gone?
Where is the singing? Where is the sun?
Where is the rain? Where is everyone?
Where have all the pretty times gone?
They have left and we dance no more.
~Annie K. :)

Kate Rusby.....

Lay me down gently, lay me down low,


I fear I am broken and won't mend, I know.


One thing I ask when the stars light the skies,


Who now will sing me lullabies,


Oh who now will sing me lullabies.






In this big world I'm lonely, for I am but small,


Oh angels in heaven, don't you care for me at all?


You heard my heart breaking for it rang through the skies,


So why don't you sing me lullabies,


Oh why don't you sing me lullabies.






I lay here; I'm weeping for the stars they have come,


I lay here not sleeping; now the long night has begun.


The man in the moon, oh he can't help but cry,


For there's no one to sing me lullabies,


Oh there's no one to sing me lullabies.






So lay me down gently, oh lay me down low,


I fear I am broken and won't mend, I know .


One thing I ask when the stars light the skies,


Who now will sing me lullabies,


Oh who now will sing me lullabies.






Who will sing me to sleep


Who will sing me to sleep


Who will sing me to sleep


Who will sing me to sleep

She Sat and Sang.......

SHE SAT AND SANG







by: Christina Rossetti (1830-1894)






HE sat and sang alway


By the green margin of a stream,


Watching the fishes leap and play


Beneath the glad sunbeam.






I sat and wept alway


Beneath the moon's most shadowy beam,


Watching the blossoms of the May


Weep leaves into the stream.






I wept for memory;


She sang for hope that is so fair:


My tears were swallowed by the sea;


Her songs died in the air.

If by Rudyard Kipling

(My first post! For a while I couldn't get on here. ??)
This is my favorite poem of all time :)

If—

by Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you

Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,

But make allowance for their doubting too;

If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,

Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,

Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,

And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;

If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;

If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster

And treat those two impostors just the same;

If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken

Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,

Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,

And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings

And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,

And lose, and start again at your beginnings

And never breathe a word about your loss;

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew

To serve your turn long after they are gone,

And so hold on when there is nothing in you

Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,

Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,

If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,

If all men count with you, but none too much;

If you can fill the unforgiving minute

With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,

Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,

And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!