Quotes about vintage, page 11
Mourning and Longing
The Saviour hides His face;
My spirit thirsts to prove
Renew'd supplies of pardoning grace,
And never-fading love.
The favor'd souls who know
What glories shine in Him,
Pant for His presence as the roe
Pants for the living stream.
What trifles tease me now!
They swarm like summer flies!
They cleave to everything I do,
And swim before my eyes.
How dull the Sabbath day,
Without the Sabbath's Lord!
How toilsome then to sing and pray,
And wait upon the Word!
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poem by William Cowper
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Olney Hymn 41: Mourning And Longing
The Saviour hides His face;
My spirit thirsts to prove
Renew'd supplies of pardoning grace,
And never-fading love.
The favor'd souls who know
What glories shine in Him,
Pant for His presence as the roe
Pants for the living stream.
What trifles tease me now!
They swarm like summer flies!
They cleave to everything I do,
And swim before my eyes.
How dull the Sabbath day,
Without the Sabbath's Lord!
How toilsome then to sing and pray,
And wait upon the Word!
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poem by William Cowper
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Ylladmar
Her hair was, oh, so dense a blur
Of darkness, midnight envied her;
And stars grew dimmer in the skies
To see the glory of her eyes;
And all the summer rain of light
That showered from the moon at night
Fell o'er her features as the gloom
Of twilight o'er a lily-bloom.
The crimson fruitage of her lips
Was ripe and lush with sweeter wine
Than burgundy or muscadine
Or vintage that the burgher sips
In some old garden on the Rhine:
And I to taste of it could well
Believe my heart a crucible
Of molten love--and I could feel
The drunken soul within me reel
And rock and stagger till it fell.
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poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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~ Eve Niv ~
Keep in
Bosoms’ sleeve
Your Eve Niv.
Eve Niv
Many looks -
Smart Street n’ Hip Hop
Cute n’ Tip Top
Vintage n’ Trendy
Blossoming BrunetteBlondie
Ethnic n’ Debonair
O’ Beaut connoisseur
Come-on to allure
Assure I’ll be your.
Says Eve Niv
Hush why?
Flush stale shy.
Will salve
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poem by Ms. Nivedita Bagchi Spc. Uk.
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Natural Magic.
I have put by the schoolmen,
The seeming great and sage;
Nor will I taste the vintage
Brewed in the vats of Age;
But I will sip the dewdrops
On the lily's leaves unfurl'd,
And list the wild birds warble
The wisdom of the world.
But this shall be my learning:
Whate'er the pundit knows
Has the dust of doubt upon it
As to the grave it goes.
The truths that I would gather
Are different in kind,
Touched with a natural magic
No artifice can find.
Ere time, a weird, wild creature,
Had been ensnared and thrall'd
By any human meaning,
The gods in thunder call'd
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poem by Robert Crawford
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The Pride To Be An African
My Africa My Africa My Africa
My Africa of which everybody imitates
My Africa of which culture exceed the Greek
My Africa of which everyone is jealous of
My Africa My Africa My Africa
My Africa of enormous natural endowment
My Africa of Non-Violence
My Africa of Amorous populates
My Africa My Africa My Africa
My Africa of patriot men and women
My Africa of shelter and vintage hospitality
My Africa of great ancestral mythology
My Africa My Africa My Africa
My Africa that bore fruits of black diamonds
My Africa which is a gift to the whole world
My Africa of great leadership
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poem by Fasan paul
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Piece of Mind...
oh! dry spill water my spell, thirst fill the
hill, dying but, not sipping in the mud, of
everybody’s mad
walk down the silent rope, the vintage line
comes to troops, marching toward and forward
the pieces of proof readied lying to dirt, to end,
to burnt with nothing to lost, now delay my flesh,
until I survive
leave me not, collapse thirst watering holes
dying for a little dropp to drink, full yet! emptied
grasping hands sake of a thirsting lips, a losing,
breathe of the sky await, stay clouds that tears
the eyes is falling to the ground
Its must be the curtain drops of tears, that open
the gate I always say I love goodbye, fulfill
working destiny and let no one regret your lasting
feet slaking throat, that raining days has to be
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poem by Antonio Liao
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Spring Up
How beautiful that you are and,
How wonderful is your place of love?
My shepherdess in the land of love,
Please come to me with your love.
The bridal week,
Please do not leave me lonely;
For i can't sleep at night alone and,
I need to get close to you my love.
I don't know what i am waiting for in this life but,
I will not give up on my dreams to become your partner;
But i am now on my way to the Red Sea so,
Do sprin up oh well of love and give me some water!
I am very thirsty for your love and,
I will be beside you like the waters of Meribah!
As white as snow and as black as coal,
As red as blood and as deep as love,
For i am along the route of the red sea to find my lover;
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poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Salad is Incompatible with Life
Yes, my waist is fifty inches -
Big for me because I'm short.
And yes, I like my cheddar cheese
When partnered with a vintage port.
Okay, okay, that double cream
Is always served with pud,
And cake and biscuits with my tea
Are just no bloody good
For my poor hardened arteries,
But see my point of view,
Please dear wifey if you please,
A Salad makes me spew!
I'd rather eat a bowl of air
Than crunch away on greens;
Drink water from the toilet bowl
Or nibble on my jeans!
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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(Sleep) This Isn't a Lullaby
Always remember things
Can be sung
In different runes.
Like this isn't a cotton field,
It's pollen from the moons.
And that wasn't a rainbow,
Swivelling
Above our trails,
That was God's licorice stick,
Stretching past the dales.
This isn't the night dusking,
Husking
The sunny fade.
Just the lights dimming
For the starry-light parade.
That isn't a wolf's howling,
Prowling
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poem by K. Jared Hosein
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