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Midis LINK |
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Our World |
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Wystan Hugh Auden
(1907-1973)
Stop All The Clocks
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone
Prevent the dog from barking at a juicy bone
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling in the sky the message "He is dead"
Put crêpe bows round the white necks of the public doves
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves
He was my north, my south, my east and west
My working week and my sunday best
My moon, my midnight, my talk, my song
I thought that love would last forever, I was wrong
The stars are not wanted now, put out every one
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood
For nothing now can ever come to any good |
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When they ring the golden bells for you and me.. |
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...the metallic crash of the windmill vane as the wind swung it around...and later, driving the big truck to the granary... unloading...going back to the field for... another load of wheat. |
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Clean |
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Poetry |
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More Poetry |
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Do you wonder how Natalya got those precious boots and why she smiled so serenely as if she knew she was safe from the Germans.. she had appealed to their needs and gotten her own pure needs for security met.. at least for the timebeing.. Where and how did she get those boots Doyle? |
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I think of your dogs howling in the night.. the coyotes...singing us to sleep and the wind rushing through your trees.. so soothing to my soul.. thank you for the serenity I felt with you my Dear... |
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Charles Williams (1886-1945)
After Ronsard
When you are old, and I - if that should be -
Lying afar in undistinguished earth,
And you no more have all your will of me,
To teach me morals, idleness, and mirth,
But, curtained from the bleak December nights,
You sit beside the else-departed fire
And 'neath the glow of double-poléd lights,
Till your alert eyes and quick judgement tire,
Turn some new poet's page, and to yourself
Praise his new satisfaction of new need,
Then pause and look a little toward the shelf
Where my books stand which none but you shall read:
And say: 'I too was not ungently sung
When I was happy, beautiful, and young.' |
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Running into the midnight
With her clothes whipping in the wind
Reaching into the heart of the darkness
For the tenderness within
Stumblin' into the lights of the city
And then back in the shadows again
Hanging onto the laughter
That each of us hid our unhappiness in
Talk about celestial bodies
And your angels on the wing
She wasn't much good at stickin' around--but
She could sing... |
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Last Song
( Edward Bear )
Did you know I'd go to sleep and leave the lights on?
Hopin' you'd come by and know that I was home and still awake.
But two years go by and still my lights on
This is hard for me to say but this is all that I can say...
It's the last song I'll ever write for you
It's the last time that I'll tell you just how much I really care
This is the last song I'll ever sing for you
You come looking for the light and it won't be there
But I love you, oh, yes I do, yes I do
All the times that I've spent waiting wondering where you are
Always knew the time would come when I would start to wonder why
Now the time is here, I don't know where you are
So I'll write you one more song but it's the last time that I'll try
It's the last song I'll ever write for you
It's the last time that I'll tell you just how much I really care
This is the last song I'll ever sing for you
You come looking for the light and it won't be there
But I love you, oh, yes I do, mmm mmm
It's the last song I'll ever write for you
It's the last song I'll ever write for you
It's the last song I'll ever write for you
It's the last song I'll ever write for you
It's the last song I'll ever write for you |
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