Quotes about sill, page 14
Winter Night
My house is poor; those that I love have left me;
My body is sick; I cannot join the feast.
There is not a living soul before my eyes
As I lie alone locked in my cottage room.
My broken lamp burns with a feeble flame;
My tattered curtains are crooked and do not meet.
'Tsek, tsek' on the door-step and window-sill
Again I hear the new snow fall.
As I grow older, gradually I sleep less;
I wake at midnight and sit up straight in bed.
If I had not learned the 'art of sitting and forgetting,'
How could I bear this utter loneliness?
Stiff and stark my body cleaves to the earth;
Unimpeded my soul yields to Change.
So has it been for four hateful years,
Through one thousand and three hundred nights!
poem by Bai Juyi
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February
THE trees stand brown against the gray,
The shivering gray of field and sky;
The mists wrapt round the dying day
The shroud poor days wear as they die:
Poor day, die soon, who lived in vain,
Who could not bring my Love again!
Down in the garden breezes cold
Dead rustling stalks blow chill between;
Only, above the sodden mould,
The wallflower wears his heartless green
As though still reigned the rose-crowned year
And summer and my Love were here.
The mists creep close about the house,
The empty house, all still and chill;
The desolate and trembling boughs
Scratch at the dripping window sill:
[...] Read more
poem by Edith Nesbit
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When the Rain Stops
When the rain stops and the sun comes out
I have a feeling, a nagging little doubt
That the clouds and the just departing rain
Have stolen from me something
Never to be got back again!
Those moments of tender touching on cheeks
Chasing droplets running down window sill
The swaying shower that from the sky leaks
To give the yearning soil a vigorous thrill!
The symphony the rain clatters on the tin
The sounds the leaves make while they drink
I want to hold onto but lose in the din
As the landscapes around me dim and shrink!
The raining moments leave with something of me
Hidden inside and longing to be free
What one rain takes the other never returns
The times, the hopes and the fire that burns!
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
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Robert Bruce's March To Bannockburn
Scots, what hae wi' Wallace bled,
Scots, wham Bruce has aften led,
Welcome to your gory bed,
Or to victorie!
Now's the day, and now's the hour;
See the front o' battle lour;
See approach proud Edward's power -
Chains and slaverie!
Wha will be a traitor knave?
Wha can fill a coward's grave?
Wha sae base as be a slave?
Let him turn and flee!
Wha, for Scotland's King and Law,
Freedom's sword will strongly draw,
Free-man stand, or Free-man fa',
Let him on wi' me!
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poem by Robert Burns
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Conscious
His fingers wake, and flutter up the bed.
His eyes come open with a pull of will,
Helped by the yellow may-flowers by his head.
A blind-cord drawls across the window-sill . . .
How smooth the floor of the ward is! what a rug!
And who's that talking, somewhere out of sight?
Why are they laughing? What's inside that jug?
"Nurse! Doctor!" "Yes; all right, all right."
But sudden dusk bewilders all the air --
There seems no time to want a drink of water.
Nurse looks so far away. And everywhere
Music and roses burnt through crimson slaughter.
Cold; cold; he's cold; and yet so hot:
And there's no light to see the voices by --
No time to dream, and ask -- he knows not what.
poem by Wilfred Owen
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Love is like Heaven but it can Hurt like Hell
Your deep voice
Went straight to my heart
You must feel so smart
Your kisses
That made me dizzy and light
It felt so right
The big hugs you gave me
Like you were a big grizzly bear
I could never share
All those secrets
You never kept from me
Still, I couldn't see
I love you so much more
Yet, i still don't want to let go
You put on such a great show
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poem by Samantha Bell
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Let's Build A Country
let's build a country that makes us proud
like a house tall and seen from only a sill
whose praise will be sang clear and loud
let our NASS work hard and sign a bill
that can fight very well all graft
just like it's often done on capitol hill
when there's no partisan witchcraft
let's fight those who maim and kill
militants armed robbers and terrorists
that's the silver bullet or perfect pill
to get investors and even tourists
we can make this work with our will
young man be empowred to be self employed
and young lady encouraged to use your skill
that soon we'll have what yankees enjoyed
let's make our land blessings count still
food we grow from the savanna we plough
to the evergreen rain forest we till
poem by Ray Anyasi
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Tracing Raindrops
She sits by the window watching the rain
tracing the drops down the window pane.
Some flow so quickly, some very slow.
She follows each one with her finger like so.
Mama has told her it's just a sweet game
and will pass the time ‘til she's home again.
So she counts raindrops mixed with her tears
watching and waiting ‘till mother appears.
In her head every dropp has a life all its own
and each battles to win, to the bottom they flow.
When they hit the sill she feels quite bad
as that's when each raindropp will die and she's sad.
Suddenly sunshine breaks through the clouds,
a rainbow appears and a familiar sound.
[...] Read more
poem by Ruth Walters
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Marital Status: Single.
The generations of celluloid kids,
And Black and white hippy brats,
Produced multi color monitor tots,
Who in turn give birth to laptop lads,
We are the modern people,
Learn the life through the cable,
Earn and live is our motto, simple,
Tomorrow really exists in our bible,
Thirty percent of us still single,
Looking for a spouse who can twinkle,
To make our body and mind to be thrilled,
The way we get excited in window sill,
None excites us as we excite none,
available have no suitable person,
We are the happy singles, playing,
Games in online jungle, worrying,
Of the wrinkles once in a while,
Otherwise, contented with our smile,
Sometimes fake, sometimes real,
Generations of singles are, on the prowl.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Autumn Comes Running
Too soon comes Autumn, as nipping the heels
Of unwary Summer, it stealthily seals
Small changes in heavily leaf-laden trees.
Summer fruits begin dropping, balanced astride
Branches festooned, in which Autumn takes hide
Before battle commences it's shivery breeze
Which scatters browned leaves, to bring to their knees
Beaten down Summer days of warm ease.
Autumn comes running, nor waits to abide
While brave Summer blooms adjust to it's ride.
It tosses, relentless, all 'Summer' it sees
Havocing treetops, nor does it allay
It's mischievous goadings for yet one more day.
Scurrying birds sense each warning of chill.
Consistently peck around my window-sill,
Fattening on seeds before temperatures freeze.
Autumn comes running
To stay.
poem by Fay Slimm
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