Poem of the Week

April 17, 2008 #482

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."

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Here we have a story for the world,
A tale of justice served and freedom won,
Principles of goodness, universal,
Printed out on stone by God's own hand.
Yes, the past was bloody, and the old
Promise was by faithlessness undone.
And wonders ceased, memories turned brittle,
Shadows fell, and love turned into land.
Still, the story breathes the air of words
Old and new, a tale not writ in stone,
Vast as the hard history of a people
Ever changing, ever one, a grand
Recital running through time's glass like sand.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Poem of the Week

April 10, 2008 #481

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

Sixty doesn’t feel at all like sixty.
Instead, it feels like forty-five or fifty.
X-tra years were added!
The numbers just seem padded!
Yet there it is – unreal but real – too swiftly.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Poem of the Week

April 3, 2008 #480

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. Please note, however, that comments will be moderated and that not all comments will appear in the blog.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Happy sixteenth anniversary!

After all these years, still in love!

Perhaps not more or less, but differently,

Perhaps because we know what time has proved.

Years flow past our bit of riverside

Singing inconsolably of beauty.

In sympathy, we watch the boats go by,

Xeroxing our poems in praise of duty.

There is in home an antidote for time,

Even as love lasts beyond a life,

Each passion pressed into a paradigm

New realized in the grace of man and wife.

The love that lasts is stubborn, tough, and strong,

Having need to need, both plain and long.

Poem of the Week

March 27, 2008 #479

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a love 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."

Yours,

Nick Gordon

I want you, but I don’t want you to know.
I fear the loss more than I trust the gain.
You are my love. I will not let you go.

Nor do I have the courage to bestow
My love on you, that you might see me plain.
I want you, but I don’t want you to know.

I fear your presence like an undertow
That drags me out unready, trite, inane.
You are my love. I will not let you go.

And yet when you are near I feel your glow
Like sunlight dancing through my windowpane.
I want you, but I don’t want you to know.

Empty but for you, I cannot show
You anything of interest I contain.
You are my love. I will not let you go.

I am a box within a box, safe so.
Sealed from self, I hide from your disdain.
I want you, but I don’t want you to know.
You are my love. I will not let you go.

Poem of the Week

March 20, 2008 #478

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."

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Here are festive flowers for your room,
A spray of springtime on your bare night table:
Placed upon a place within your view;
Placed where best to light your harried heart.
Yet my blossoms can’t dispel your gloom,
Even were they many times more able:
All that gifts from loving friends can do
Sings just one unaccompanied inner part.
The music cannot come from aught but you,
Evangelist beside the empty tomb
Rejoicing with all innocence and art.

Poem of the Week

March 13, 2008 #477

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a St. Patrick'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."

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Seriously, nothing would surprise me.
The land we loved is turned into a store,
Prettied up for foreigners, while we
Are salesclerks and waitresses, no more
The warriors of old, the priests of passion,
Royalty of tongue, the banshee dancers.
Instead, we have become the latest fashion,
Cheapened by the sale itself, the prancers
Kindled by a check to do their chore.

Poem of the Week

March 6, 2008 #476

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."

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Forty has her husband, child, home.
On her rests much, but she is light of heart.
Rewards are filtered through the clouds of stone,
The merciless routine in monotone
Yielding to her patience, will, and art.