Faithful Prayers

In God's Scented Garden
You Are Mentioned Always
As Faithful Prayers
Blossom Into Flowers

-God's HeartStrings

The swing

How do you like to go up in a swing? 
Up in the air so blue?
Oh, I do think it the pleasantest thing 
Ever a child can do!

Up in the air and over the wall,
Till I can see so wide, 
Rivers and trees and cattle and all 
Over the countryside--

Till I look down on the garden green, 
Down on the roof so brown - 
Up in the air I go flying again, 
Up in the air and down!

In the night

under the tree
until dark
among the stars
below the clouds
with you about
before i sleep
beyond my dreams 
thoughts of you.

Myself

I have to live with myself and so
I want to be fit for myself to know,
I want to be able as days go by,
To look at myself straight in the eye.
I don't want to stand with the setting sun
And hate myself for the things I've done.

I don't want to hide on a closet shelf
A lot of secrets about myself,
And fool myself as I come and go
Into thinking that nobody else will know
What kind of man I really am;
I don't want to dress myself in sham.

I want to go with my head erect,
I want to deserve all men's respect
And in this struggle for fame and pelf
I want to be able to like myself.
I don't want to look at myself and know
That I am a bluster and empty show.

I cannot hide myself from me;
I can see what others can never see;
I know what others can never know,
I cannot fool myself, and so

Whatever happens, I want to be
Self-respecting and conscience free.

An Old Man's Winter Night

All out of doors looked darkly in at him
Through the thin frost, almost in separate stars,
That gathers on the pane in empty rooms.
What kept his eyes from giving back the gaze
Was the lamp tilted near them in his hand.
What kept him from remembering what it was
That brought him to that creaking room was age.
He stood with barrels round him -- at a loss.
And having scared the cellar under him
In clomping there, he scared it once again
In clomping off; -- and scared the outer night,
Which has its sounds, familiar, like the roar
Of trees and crack of branches, common things,
But nothing so like beating on a box.
A light he was to no one but himself
Where now he sat, concerned with he knew what,
A quiet light, and then not even that.
He consigned to the moon, such as she was,
So late-arising, to the broken moon
As better than the sun in any case
For such a charge, his snow upon the roof,
His icicles along the wall to keep;
And slept. The log that shifted with a jolt
Once in the stove, disturbed him and he shifted,
And eased his heavy breathing, but still slept.
One aged man -- one man -- can't keep a house,
A farm, a countryside, or if he can,
It's thus he does it of a winter night. 

A little girl lost!!!!!

Children of the future age,
Reading this indignant page,
Know that in a former time
Love, sweet love, was thought a crime.

In the age of gold,
Free from winter's cold,
Youth and maiden bright,
To the holy light,
Naked in the sunny beams delight.

Once a youthful pair,
Filled with softest care,
Met in garden bright
Where the holy light
Had just removed the curtains of the night.

Then, in rising day,
On the grass they play;
Parents were afar,
Strangers came not near,
And the maiden soon forgot her fear.

Tired with kisses sweet,
They agree to meet
When the silent sleep
Waves o'er heaven's deep,
And the weary tired wanderers weep.

To her father white
Came the maiden bright;
But his loving look,
Like the holy book
All her tender limbs with terror shook.

'Ona, pale and weak,
To thy father speak!
Oh the trembling fear!
Oh the dismal care
That shakes the blossoms of my hoary hair!' 

A little boy lost!!!

v'Nought loves another as itself, Nor venerates another so, Nor is it possible to thought A greater than itself to know. 'And, father, how can I love you Or any of my brothers more? I love you like the little bird That picks up crumbs around the door.' The Priest sat by and heard the child; In trembling zeal he seized his hair, He led him by his little coat, And all admired the priestly care. And standing on the altar high, 'Lo, what a fiend is here! said he: 'One who sets reason up for judge Of our most holy mystery.' The weeping child could not be heard, The weeping parents wept in vain: They stripped him to his little shirt, And bound him in an iron chain, And burned him in a holy place Where many had been burned before; The weeping parents wept in vain. Are such thing done on Albion's shore?

A dreams

Once a dream did weave a shade O'er my angel-guarded bed, That an emmet lost its way Where on grass methought I lay. Troubled, wildered, and forlorn, Dark, benighted, travel-worn, Over many a tangle spray, All heart-broke, I heard her say: 'Oh my children! do they cry, Do they hear their father sigh? Now they look abroad to see, Now return and weep for me.' Pitying, I dropped a tear: But I saw a glow-worm near, Who replied, 'What wailing wight Calls the watchman of the night? 'I am set to light the ground, While the beetle goes his round: Follow now the beetle's hum; Little wanderer, hie thee home!'

Dreams-An incomplete story

There is so much left be done, There is so much left to be said, In this path of struggle, I feel I'm the only one. There is so much I couldn't be, There was so much to become of me, Everything was in front of me, Still i did not care to see. Plans and dreams were endlessly made, But eventually died at last, 'What's to become of him? ', they said, Dreams of what could be, Wandered the streets of my past, I silently stood, but aghast. Time is passing me by, People say, 'Stand on your feet', But, at the end of everything, I would be leaving on someone else's shoulder, Without a care, Without a bother. And as I leave, I might wonder, There is so much left to be done, Wish I could save myself from all the blunder. I had never liked what i had, I never had what i liked, Hope that someday, I will get what i love, or, Learn to love, what i have...

Dreams are Dreams

It’s a dream I have. A dream not of fantasy, but one of life. One, where I can be alone. One, where I’m not alone. One, where I can do as I please, and where I have a choice. One where they won’t cry and I won’t cry We will not cry! It’s a dream I have.

have a new blog

aku ada blog baru la................