Quotes about ramble, page 5
No Time To Think
No time to think, no time for dreams
No time for anything it seems.
No time to stop, no time to waste,
No time for anything but haste.
No time to wonder at the snow,
No time to watch our children grow.
But time enough to race about
And time enough to scream and shout.
And time enough to rush, rush, rush,
And time enough to push, push, push.
But no time to care or to smile,
No time to ramble for a while.
No time to sit, no time time to stand,
No time to shake you by the hand.
No time to stop, no time to blink
But most of all no time to think
poem by Paul Anthony
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Why Do You Ramble On Me?
I slipped and fell on your mind.
You smile, reel and ramble on.
Day and night you reign in my heart,
so sleep and rest from my soul gone.
When we wed and join together,
peace and pleasure will blossom in our life. (You smile, …………on)
Don’t be mean and hide your face
to make me addled and pensive.
Never will I jilt you and make you gloomy;
let thy smile to bail me off slumber. (You smile……….on)
I now feel the balmy breeze
by listening to thy music.
Your somber melody fills my heartful
and the rills of tearful rhymes pour out, Oh! (You smile…….on.)
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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Saturday Night At The Local
Saturday night in The Ramble Inn Bar
Johnny the folk singer strums on his guitar
For his entertainment in beer he is paid
Not a hard one to please is Danny McDaid,
Saturday night the night for the sing along
Everyone gets a chance to sing a song
Anyone who sings will get a free beer
Saturday night is the night of good cheer,
Annie she sings and she receives an encore
Drinks her free beer and she sings a few more
Singing and dancing and reciting rhyme
Everyone's having a jolly good time,
Nobody is looking for trouble or fight
Down at the Local on Saturday night.
poem by Francis Duggan
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A Respite
While easing on my lane of life,
I was facinated by a handsome weirdo.
Keeled over by his stunning ochre eyes..
I found my lost inspiration in his incredulous smile.
I rued for many things in my life
but i wont fret for tipping over a person with whom i could never utter...
Till the time i ramble, the best thing i could get is...
'Inspiration' from his enticing brown eyes and his fillip smile.
Once I decamp this place and I sit in my garden with those ravishing blossoms
My thought would wing its way back to his stricking gaze and entrancing smile.
when a petty naughty smile would pass on my visage.
poem by Priya Govindh
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Sonnet VI: thine fair love, thine pride
I indite this ramble to prove that thine intentions
Are of graver labour into lust of thine contentions
Since denounced thee of thy conjugal consent
Apart fallen thine world ever thence
I have strived under the scorching eye of the sky
And beneath the gorgeously low moon have I so tense
To linger earnestly thine hopes where high
You do no worst my dear, despite my wrong
I shall cast thy beautiful antique into thine mind
In thy fair love's beauty treads every glow
Is there more to it that I do not know?
That stars fall in thy eyes in throng
And men claim thee of poor earth's pride
In this league of adulation my dear, I do belong
poem by Folayemi Akande
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Schoolboys in Winter
The schoolboys still their morning ramble take
To neighboring village school with playing speed,
Loitering with passtime's leisure till they quake,
Oft looking up the wild-geese droves to heed,
Watching the letters which their journeys make;
Or plucking haws on which their fieldfares feed,
And hips and sloes; and on each shallow lake
Making glib slides, where they like shadows go
Till some fresh passtimes in their minds awake.
Then off they start anew and hasty blow
Their numbed and clumpsing fingers till they glow;
Then races with their shadows wildly run
That stride huge giants o'er the shining snow
In the pale splendour of the winter sun.
poem by John Clare
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Meaningless Noise
the little baby that crawls from the cradle
to the kitchen,
the boy that walks from the village to the
city,
the same man that starts some lines, ponders,
and assembles thoughts and speaks
and
writes this poem,
it is the same man that speaks upon a rooted silence,
at the top soil, there is nothing much to say
perhaps only some leaves with worms
the usual predator-prey relationship, parasite-host thing
it is the same ramble at night
loose, nameless, meaningless noise,
[...] Read more
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Streets of solitude
Last breaths of life pass away
From dingy shades of dark rooms.
Pracedented yet unseen
By the multitude.
The city sleeps in despondence.
The drenched, marshy streets of solitude.
Scraps of paper and posters
Of politics
Fall and wither.
Weary and musty the days go by;
A chain of sudden events,
Hardly predictable.
We spit
We stamp
We stumble
Upon the streets of solitude.
Sounds of cherubim-faced spirits
[...] Read more
poem by Sahana Mukherjee
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Una
Roving, roving, as it seems,
Una lights my clouded dreams;
Still for journeys she is dressed;
We wander far by east and west.
In the homestead, homely thought;
At my work I ramble not;
If from home chance draw me wide,
Half-seen Una sits beside.
In my house and garden-plot,
Though beloved, I miss her not;
But one I seek in foreign places,
One face explore in foreign faces.
At home a deeper thought may light
The inward sky with chrysolite,
And I greet from far the ray,
Aurora of a dearer day.
[...] Read more
poem by Ralph Waldo Emerson
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mE (for a friend)
I really want to tell you, about this friend I've got, called mE.
Signs their texts, with a simple little word, called me.
Like you're sitting in the chair at home, wondering what's going on,
When you hear a knock at the door and you're no longer alone,
Who's there? Who's here? It's me!
Yeah, I know who me is, do you? Come in me!
Me doesn't tell you their real name, cause you know who.
Me is a friend you know is always there for you.
They'll put up with your stupid pranks, and big head,
They'll listen to you ramble when you're half-dead.
[...] Read more
poem by Joses Tirtabudi
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