Quotes about lark, page 22
Rurin
I fear the closeness of theiy heart,
Come to close to the heaven’s hark,
To beautiful is this lonely lark,
For one that brings a bloody mark,
Listen my friend of the ones whom run,
Free and wild within the sun,
Listen closely,
Side by side,
Ear to ear,
I heed my warning loud and clear,
‘Come no further to my soul,
Afraid that I might lose it all.’
‘To precious for my skin and bone,
Ashes tossed upon theiy throne.’
Listen closely,
Side by side,
Ear to ear,
I heed my warning loud and clear....
poem by Ashley Fortin
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Insularum Ocelle
Sark, fairer than aught in the world that the lit skies cover,
Laughs inly behind her cliffs, and the seafarers mark
As a shrine where the sunlight serves, though the blown clouds hover,
Sark.
We mourn, for love of a song that outsang the lark,
That nought so lovely beholden of Sirmio's lover
Made glad in Propontis the flight of his Pontic bark.
Here earth lies lordly, triumphal as heaven is above her,
And splendid and strange as the sea that upbears as an ark,
As a sign for the rapture of storm-spent eyes to discover,
Sark.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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Bury st. Edmunds
Visit the abbey in ruin,
Greene king pubs beckoning you in,
Amid bloom see the sights you can,
See links to an age that's Norman,
A charming suffolk market town,
That's known by an arrow shot crown,
Named after the martyr king Edmund,
The true patron saint of England,
Sample the local vintage ales,
Take in the area's folktales,
See the history in Moyse's hall,
Bury cathedral standing tall,
Note what's on at the theatre royal,
At the festival enjoy all,
Walk the lark vale and angel hill,
Fondness a visit will instil.
poem by Christian Lacdael
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Bird Raptures
The sunrise wakes the lark to sing,
The moonrise wakes the nightingale.
Come darkness, moonrise, everything
That is so silent, sweet, and pale,
Come, so ye wake the nightingale.
Make haste to mount, thou wistful moon,
Make haste to wake the nightingale:
Let silence set the world in tune
To hearken to that wordless tale
Which warbles from the nightingale.
O herald skylark, stay thy flight
One moment, for a nightingale
Floods us with sorrow and delight.
To-morrow thou shalt hoist the sail;
Leave us tonight the nightingale.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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I'ld Rather Climb A Tree
Pay for this, pay for that,
pay for everything on the rack.
Drive in my new 66 Chevy car
not knowing what I pay for gets me that far.
Everything is a shot in the dark,
nvesting in something that could be a lark.
It ends up being a half baked cake,
doesn’t even rise for heaven sakes.
Time could be wasted on better times,
could have been having fun drinking wine
with friends that make me feel fine.
So I say the best things in life are free,
like when I was a kid climbing a tree.
Written By Suzae Chevalier on January 17,2012
poem by Christina Sunrise
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Heavenly Messenger.
Heavenly messenger.
As morning breaks the still, dark lake
reflects the opalescent light.
The waterbirds begin to wake.
Then somewhere near a lark takes flight.
This tiny bird whose melody
informs the world of a new day.
She rises singing joyously.
The blackbird adds his roundelay.
A pleasure for the ears and eyes
of early rising men who see
the pastel colours of sunrise.
Spread from the east above the sea.
I am content to listen to
her hymn of praise forever new.
Saturday,11 September 2010
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Hounds of hurts and sounds of silence
Blind blood bound in blasts and bursts
Hundred a hound hunts in hidden hurts
The lip bloom slips the snow's slope embedded
Wept in white whispers time wound and wedded
A hello to hollows is holiness still heard
Beating in the blasts burning in the blood
Shimmering ashes by silent shores ensured
Foes to frightful fight of feverish floods
Ashes wash the wounds wipe away the weeds
By a sky-lark melody down the lily lakes
The sweetest singing in silence sewed seeds
A sewer-seer's secret this melody makes
2010.
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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A Serenade
Ah! County Guy, the hour is nigh
The sun has left the lea,
The orange-flower perfumes the bower,
The breeze is on the sea.
The lark, his lay who trill’d all day,
Sits hush’d his partner nigh;
Breeze, bird, and flower confess the hour,
But where is County Guy?
The village maid steals through the shade
Her shepherd’s suit to hear;
To Beauty shy, by lattice high,
Sings high-born Cavalier.
The star of Love, all stars above,
Now reigns o’er earth and sky,
And high and low the influence know—
But where is County Guy?
poem by Sir Walter Scott
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Harry Styles
Harry Styles Simile Poem
By: Kayla Thomas
He looks as handsome as a prince,
His hair is as untamed and free spirited as a bird,
His nose is like a sloping mountain,
His eyes are as blue as sapphires,
He speaks as clear as a bell,
His face looks as smooth as a baby's bottom,
He walks as cool as a cucumber,
His smile is as happy as a lark,
His teeth are as white as pearls,
His clothes are as crisp as new linen,
His band members are as different as chalk from cheese,
His personality is a sweet as a tub of honey,
He is my Idol.
poem by Kayla Thomas
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The Wind that Shakes the Barley
There's music in my heart all day,
I hear it late and early,
It comes from fields are far away,
The wind that shakes the barley.
Above the uplands drenched with dew
The sky hangs soft and pearly,
An emerald world is listening to
The wind that shakes the barley.
Above the bluest mountain crest
The lark is singing rarely,
It rocks the singer into rest,
The wind that shakes the barley.
Oh, still through summers and through springs
It calls me late and early.
Come home, come home, come home, it sings,
The wind that shakes the barley.
poem by Katharine Tynan
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