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Quotes about chime, page 14

The Otherside

Nestled in nostalgia
Wondering if it is aware
The past sleeps lightly

Castles seem haunted
Wind and creeks
Memory is mystic

The old stairs and banister
Rain cannot clean blood
Perfume cannot hide war

Memorials of old soldiers
Visitations in the storm
Two dimensions gather

Dust the old flowered lamps
Her soul is filled with antiques
Crystal wine glasses, candles

[...] Read more

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A L M S

A donkey with stacks on its back
Takes what joy in his traipse on roads flinty
Be they sand bags or sandal planks
Earns those same hayricks, as ultimate fees

For a menial, crushing clods
What Sunshine in life, his moil can dawn
In paddy fields or for precious lodes
Rakes the same rewards of few steel coins

Mind you! The meaning of these alms
Tossed by mean masters at their thralls’ grovel
“Alive they come for one more Diem
To fill rosters at the chime of the bell”

With ample breath to toil and shrivel
But not enough to question and rebel

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Good People

How true in all time, good people can’t see
How true and sublime, their good could just be
How true in life’s grime, good people agree
How true with their chime, they sing of happy

This thank you decrees, to holding the keys
Of thanking with pleas, to hug good with ease

Good people make haste, to help and befriend
Good people are placed, with help that they lend
Good people won’t waste, the love that they tend
Good people are faced, with love to defend

This thank you extends, where it knows no ends
Of thanking my friends, where help and love blends

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O My Time

Time, time, o my time
Ring you like a chime
That always spreads a melodious tune
And relaxes one's mind like a good fortune;
Time, time, o my time
Be you like a hymn
That keeps the inner soul calm
And cures the mind like a balm;
Time, time, o my time
Fly me back in my prime
Where never was melancholy
And when I ever was like a lily;
Time, time, o my time
Be you like the sun's shine
That keeps the world green
And leaves nothing unseen;
Time, time, o my time
Be you not like a wine
That kills the very drunkard
Hence, seperates the sheep from its herd.

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Fauna of Life

take the bosom
of your smile, the
bloom of zooming frolic smile immortalize
the shadow of your spirit in me

touch every moist
of droplets rainbow as the
wind gladly starts its morning mess for
a little day

hear oh!
hear the gong of the chime,
the day is not yet over
oh! you must run to be free, feel the tender lips
I always pray
for thy cherry blossom shows its way,
come first in my side and let your
every ways recall

my heart, oh! Dear heart, ponder while you

[...] Read more

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Roderic Quinn

No more will Rod his lyrics sing,
As tuneful as the thrush when Spring
With minstrel voice is calling;
As joyous as the gentle chime
Of bellbirds in the Summertime
From sylvan spires down-falling.

The harp is mute from which he drew
The magic of a music new
Of woods and golden beaches;
Its silent strings tell ne'er again
Enraptured tales of hill and plain
And gleaming river reaches.

But this fair land shall ever be
Indebted to his minstrelsy,
So, written on the portal
Of Art's proud temple, will his name
Go down forevermore in fame
Untarnished and immortal.

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Song's End

THE CHIME of a bell of gold
That flutters across the air,
The sound of a singing of old,
The end of a tale that is told,
Of a melody strange and fair,
of a joy that has grown despair:

For the things that have been for me
I shall never have them again;
The skies and the purple sea,
And day like a melody,
And night like a silver rain
Of stars on forest and plain.

They are shut, the gates of the day;
The night has fallen on me:
My life is a lightless way;
I sing yet, while as I may!
Some day I shall cease, maybe:
I shall live on yet, you will see.

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Unlimited Reflections - 0848 - Current Version

Here follows an anthology to bring
enjoyment true, one world view versed in rhyme,
unlimited reflections over time
matured by mind whose searching soul would sing,
nursing ambitions empathy should string,
except most care not, - neither nickle, dime.
Listen to intuition's bells' strong chime
imprinting echo etched on soul, whose ring
may never fail, to nothing fade. Time's sting
outcast as shared experiences climb
up past extrapolations vague, masqued mime.
Just twenty six swift soldiers' ink link lines
recast lead die, redrawing causal signs.

(4 March 2009)

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Precious Pages

This faint page of letters shines after a light is entering its layers,
For the thin pages of this book chime in silent manner when folded.
Then the knowledge of the authorities all-mentioned climbs to completion,
Beautiful thoughts and remedies are transferred to our minds and eyes.
Our eyes are sustaining their shape as we read and tell of the glamour
Dissolved and then absorbed by us, by the ultimate being who is the reader.
The complete praise to be given is silent and from the heart,
Hearts cling to the words that can not be matched or sustained by most authors.

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Wanderer

Wanderer, far from his homeland,
You are poor and you are alone,
For the time, deprived of listening
To the music of mother tongue.

Yet here nature is so magnificent,
That you’re not entirely lost.
Singing birds on the trees around you –
Would you call it a foreign tongue?

Only listening to the autumn flute,
The cicadas iridescent chime;
Only noticing of the dragon-shape
Big white clouds up in the skies, -

You’ll embrace what you have inherited –
The eternal sadness and pain.
In your dreams, you’ll sail away back home
With your eyes shielded from the sun.

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