Quotes about allied, page 9
Six Arms on Queens Road
Southgate to Oak shire- there's garden gnomes and heralds
The Six Arms flexing true through the miles
Lagers and Stouts quenching blokes on the road
Riding by rental room-to-lets
manic texting mobile phone sets
Taste of the nic on the roll-your-own gets
A fresh new perspective inside the door
But don't start habit forming, I implore
The mind loses sight of foreign instabilities
Through beer suds, cigar smoke, and football technicalities
Allied soldiers imprisoned in war
Thrown in a hole among three dead men
That's no way to treat a man
That Sudanese family- hunger and malaria
Thriving ticks harms throughout the towns
Driving to Six Arms and buying all rounds
poem by Mason Maestro
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Modern Declaration
I, having loved ever since I was a child a few things, never having
wavered
In these affections; never through shyness in the houses of the
rich or in the presence of clergymen having denied these
loves;
Never when worked upon by cynics like chiropractors having
grunted or clicked a vertebra to the discredit of those loves;
Never when anxious to land a job having diminished them by a
conniving smile; or when befuddled by drink
Jeered at them through heartache or lazily fondled the fingers of
their alert enemies; declare
That I shall love you always.
No matter what party is in power;
No matter what temporarily expedient combination of allied
interests wins the war;
Shall love you always.
poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay
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Balare - 1784 - We Sprinkle Stardust On Each Day
We sprinkle stardust on each day
spread joy through nightly dream,
love grows in oh! so many ways
expanding ever, seems
to welcome shared perceptions, beam
leaves haze maze, finds 'amaze! '
We sprinkle sunshine on each night
delight thread through day's fray,
light filters through as wings for flight
disperse Past's grey dismay,
thus day through day and night through night
we grow, glow, flow, sow, stay
united as true team whose trip
from alpha to omega
shows heart to heart and lip to lip
where every day more eager
sees shared advance which shall nor slip
nor fret should scope seem meager.
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poem by Jonathan Robin
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In Angola
In Angola I wondered
how the land of the free
had the power,
to launch soldiers
from another country
into the arms of eternity.
How could
the sly foxes of the CIA
find a way,
to sway
a country into it’s war.
What fools
had the politicians
of my country become,
to rise and let boys
of eighteen bare the brunt
for the most unpopular war.
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poem by Gert Strydom
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No I am not without love
I
No I am not without love
Or understating above…?
My monarch's wings have that black stucco-
Edge; like a church glass window.
Orange, warmth; heavily, leaded
But they're coursing with red-blood
Lights filter, within, vaulted:
To frame those darker, vaults pallid.
I'm a thorn of living fire
I mumble with choir inside
Weeping angels guide my satire
Both heart and soul are allied.
Simultaneously two wings beat
Love and compassion complete.
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poem by Mark Heathcote
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The Aged Patriarch
Of life's past woes, the fading trace
Hath given that aged patriarch's face
Expression, holy, deep, resign'd,
The calm sublimity of mind.
Years o'er his snowy head have pass'd,
And left him of his race the last;
Alone on earth, but yet his mien
Is bright with majesty serene;
And those high hopes, whose guiding star
Shines from eternal words afar,
Have with that light illumed his eye
Whose fount is immortality.
And o'er his features pour'd a ray
Of glory not to pass away,
He seems a being who hath known
Communion with his God alone.
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poem by Felicia Dorothea Hemans
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Comedy of Errors
COMEDY OF ERRORS
Shrew tamed, All's Well, though here is Much Ado!
Antony and Cleopatra met
No Rape, no Tragedy, since each stayed true,
Grave born, like Romeo and Juliet.
Thus Richard, John and Harry had preferred
One History where each could heed thy call!
Measured each Tempest's threat is, for unheard
All envy's Comic Error is withal!
My love as Pilgrim Passionate here's signed,
As Venus to Adonis here allied,
Urge Lover's Complaint in neatest verse aligned, -
Dove Turtle are to Phoenix true supplied.
Echoed are Plays with Sonnets' sequent frame,
Continued may sustain Shakespearian flame.
12 November 1990 revised 22 September 2008 as Sonnet CLXXIV Maude Care Is Our Dream Shakespeare's Plays Parodies
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poem by Jonathan Robin
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One difference between God's work and man's is, that, while God's work cannot mean more than he meant, man's must mean more than he meant. For in everything that God has made, there is layer upon layer of ascending significance; also he expresses the same thought in higher and higher kinds of that thought: it is God's things, his embodied thoughts, which alone a man has to use, modified and adapted to his own purposes, for the expression of his thoughts; therefore he cannot help his words and figures falling into such combinations in the mind of another as he had himself not foreseen, so many are the thoughts allied to every other thought, so many are the relations involved in every figure, so many the facts hinted in every symbol. A man may well himself discover truth in what he wrote; for he was dealing all the time with things that came from thoughts beyond his own.
quote by George MacDonald
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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To Mrs. K--,
WHAT crowding thoughts around me wake,
What marvels in a Christmas-cake!
Ah say, what strange enchantment dwells
Enclos'd within its od'rous cells?
Is there no small magician bound
Encrusted in its snowy round?
For magic surely lurks in this,
A cake that tells of vanish'd bliss;
A cake that conjures up to view
The early scenes, when life was new;
When mem'ry knew no sorrows past,
And hope believ'd in joys that last!--
Mysterious cake, whose folds contain
Life's calendar of bliss and pain;
That speaks of friends for ever fled,
And wakes the tears I love to shed.
Oft shall I breathe her cherish'd name
From whose fair hand the off'ring came:
For she recalls the artless smile
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poem by Helen Maria Williams
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Two Bicycles
when I was a little boy
of 14 years of age,
I desired to have a
‘Admiral' small 18' bicycle
to attend school,
roughly 4 kms. away.
promise after promise,
for every Christmas and birthdays,
yet, the cycle never turned up
my school days, were by then over
I joined a college hostel in a small town
Fees, books, dress, hostel deposit and allied
my father had paid them all, without any murmur
at the end of the degree course, I passed out with distinction
joined the bank at a remote village, as cash-cum-accounts clerk
by the grace of bank, festival advance Rs.150-
cycle advance of Rs.300
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poem by Santhana Louis
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