Thursday, April 15, 2010

Poem of the Week

April 15, 2010 #577
 
Dear Subscriber:
 
This week’s poem of the week is a number poem.
 
You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com and clicking on "Poem of the Week." 
 
You can post a comment on the poem or read other comments on it at http://nicholasgordon.blogspot.com.
 
Yours,
 
Nick Gordon
 
Twenty-three believes that life may perish.
What would any lover do but save it?
Each moment is an act of desperation,
Nor can one plead the beauty of sensation,
Though there is much good grace in those who crave it.
Yet now one must sustain what one would cherish.
 
There's nothing for it but to live one's anguish,
Having made one's life a sign, and wave it
Relentlessly, till one becomes a nation,
Embracing all who'll face despair and brave it,
Even though the rest their world relinquish.
 
© by Nicholas Gordon

Thursday, April 8, 2010

Poem of the Week

April 8, 2010 #576
 
Dear Subscriber:
 
This week’s poem of the week is an anniversary poem.
 
You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com and clicking on "Poem of the Week." 
 
You can post a comment on the poem or read other comments on it at http://nicholasgordon.blogspot.com.
 
Yours,
 
Nick Gordon
 
Happy First Anniversary!
A moment to stand back and look at life,
Pleased with this first year as man and wife,
Pleased with dreams that now have come to be.
Yet these are just the first few opening measures:
For you there is a symphony in store,
In which the years will ask of you much more,
Rewarding you with rich and varied pleasures.
So may this moment sing of joy and love,
The first of many that your hearts will move.
 
© by Nicholas Gordon

Thursday, April 1, 2010

Poem of the Week

April 1, 2010 #575
 
Dear Subscriber:
 
This week’s poem of the week is an Easter poem.
 
You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com and clicking on "Poem of the Week." 
 
You can post a comment on the poem or read other comments on it at http://nicholasgordon.blogspot.com.
 
Yours,
 
Nick Gordon
 
Even as the Earth turns into Spring,
Angling its torso towards the sun,
So like birds our hearts begin to sing,
Touched by time as tides by moonlight run,
Ebbing as faith faces the long night,
Returning with the laughter and the light.
 
© by Nicholas Gordon

Thursday, March 25, 2010

Poem of the Week

March 25, 2010 #574
 
Dear Subscriber:
 
This week’s poem of the week is a Passover poem.
 
You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com and clicking on "Poem of the Week."
 
You can post a comment on the poem or read other comments on it at http://nicholasgordon.blogspot.com.
 
Yours,
 
Nick Gordon
 
Pour yourself like wine into the glass,
A liquid shaped by glass blown long ago,
Singing every year the words you know,
Songs that do not change as your years pass.
Old glass, new wine; new matter, ancient form;
Vintages that burst with life and joy;
Enduring hope no horror can destroy;
Ritual that makes a faith a home.
 
© by Nicholas Gordon

Thursday, March 18, 2010

Poem of the Week

March 18, 2010 #573
 
Dear Subscriber:
 
This week’s poem of the week is a poem about a profession.
 
You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com and clicking on "Poem of the Week."
 
You can post a comment on the poem or read other comments on it at http://nicholasgordon.blogspot.com.
 
Yours,
 
Nick Gordon
 
There is no greater passion than for beauty --
Ecstasy distilled into a song --
Nor calling more exquisite than the duty
To make our own the truths for which we long.
Here's to you, then! And for what you've done
To be the muse who mirrors well our hearts,
Restoring the lone many to the one
Common love that underlies all arts.
O love of being, bearer of our pain!
Well might we praise the gardeners who bring
Our passions into bloom, that we again
Might hear the sunlit bird within us sing.
Long may you ply what practices you've learned,
Profiting all by artistry you've earned.
 
© by Nicholas Gordon

Thursday, March 11, 2010

Poem of the Week

March 11, 2010 #572

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a poem for Mothering Sunday (the British Mother's Day).

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com and clicking on "Poem of the Week."

You can post a comment on the poem or read other comments on it at http://nicholasgordon.blogspot.com.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Have no fear, for love is all around you.
All come helpless from a common womb.
Perhaps you do not know that love surrounds you.
Perhaps you do not know that you're in bloom.
Yet mothers, too, are children, ever loved,
Minded by the living and the dead,
Old enough to give, as time has proved,
The need no less, though time and tears have fled.
Have faith that love's a mystic tide that flows
Equally to and from the heart,
Returning, turning as it comes and goes,
'Mid moon and moon your sea, your song, your art.
Sing, then, of this moment of your giving,
Deep within the ebb and flow of living.
All you feel is what was felt for you,
Yearning your own yearning will renew.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Thursday, March 4, 2010

Poem of the Week

March 4, 2010 #571

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a number poem.

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com and clicking on "Poem of the Week." You can also cast a vote for it to boost its popularity on Yahoo Buzz.

You can post a comment on the poem or read other comments on it at http://nicholasgordon.blogspot.com.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Forty-two has friends and a young daughter.
Open up her life and you will find,
Resting at the unprotected center,
The quiet self-assurance of her mind,
Yielding nothing as the years unwind.

There is no future that can be designed.
What course the will may set, the wind will alter.
One is oneself one's fortune, cruel or kind.

© by Nicholas Gordon