Poem of the Week

May 5, 2011 #632

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a poem for 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

Hinder not the happiness
Alive within the heart.
Perhaps it's only natural,
Perhaps it is an art.
Yet many rarely feel it,
Many do not know
Of the eternal music
That makes the moment flow.
How might one listen to it
Except to sing and dance,
Reveling in beauty
'Mid clarity and trance?
Singing to the mothers,
Dear vessels of the soul,
As Mary was to Jesus,
Yielding glory whole.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Poem of the Week

March 31, 2011 #627

Dear Subscriber:

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

Melodies, like people, have a home.
Otherwise, they'd wander aimlessly.
They modulate and mutate as they roam,
Having held their own quite painlessly,
Eventually returning to the heart
Reserved for them by nature or by art,
Savoring that long-sought tonic tone.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Poem of the Week

 
May 6, 2010 #580
 
Dear Subscriber:
 
This week’s poem of the week is a Mother's Day 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 Mother's Day to a dear aunt,
A refuge from conditions and demands,
Perhaps because you have a different slant,
Perhaps because your love is free of plans.
Yet for whatever reason, you are there
More simply and directly than the other,
One with whom a child can always share
The kinds of joys too carefree for a mother.
Happiness can use a bit of room,
Even in the midst of an embrace.
Relevance requires not the womb:
'Tis love and labor that replenish grace.
So do you play this secondary part,
Dealt not by birth but by the willing heart,
Aunt extraordinaire, whose love will bring
Years of memories that dance and sing.
 
© by Nicholas Gordon

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

Poem of the Week

May 7, 2009 #531

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a Mother's Day poem to a daughter.

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

Happy Mother's Day from far away!
As love has wings, it flies across the sea,
Passing seraphim alight with glee,
Placed in nooks on clouds along its way.
Years cannot such innocence betray,
Morning's holy light perpetually
On fire within the heart, a pillar we
Then follow through the desert night and day.
Here, then, is my love, and as it lands,
Exchange it for a pigeon of your own,
Returning through the heavens what I once,
'Ere you were born, delivered to your door.
So are we eternal, though the sands
Demand of us that piece that is on loan,
As love renews, renews the ancient dance,
Yet dancing though the wide world be no more.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Poem of the Week

March 19, 2009 #524

Dear Subscriber:

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

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

Mothering Sunday, Mothering Sunday,
Oh, what gratitude --
Till Monday!
Have a bit o' bliss
Each one day
Reserved as your
Intended fun day.
Nor should a normal
Got-to-run day
Silence love
Until some someday;
Nor word not light a
Desperate glum day
As we await
Your Mothering Sunday.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Poem of the Week

May 1, 2008 #484

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a philosophical poem to a mother.

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

Maybe time is like a snowdrift. Spring
Opens up its secrets. And perhaps
There you find what you’ve been looking for.
Harsh winters wait, of course, but there are more
Ecstasies than sorrows under wraps,
Retained in drifts till their awakening.

© by Nicholas Gordon