February 17, 2011 #621
Dear Subscriber:
This week’s poem of the week is a poem for Presidents' 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
President's Day? Presidents' Day? Or Presidents Day?
Regarding spelling, what's the difference?
Even apostrophes must have their say,
Subtly shading each rendition's sense.
In the first, Washington alone
Deserves the day, the only president
Every state has honored on its own.
Nor does the change of date change what is meant.
The second rendition suggests that Lincoln, too,
Should share the honor, combining holidays
'Tween their birthdays, giving both their due,
Depending on which state such honor pays.
All presidents, too, the second could convey,
Yet the third one must be read that way.
© by Nicholas Gordon
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Poem of the Week
February 10, 2011 #620
Dear Subscriber:
This week’s poem of the week is a poem for Valentine'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
Vintners know the value of the soil.
A wine's taste is determined from below.
Love, like wine, takes sun and rain and toil.
Each may vary; the soil remains just so.
Nor can lovers choose the soil their roots
Take hold in. That lies deeper than the will:
In dreams, in loves long past, in lies and truths
None knows, but from the taste that lives distill.
Even so, the toil and the care --
'Twixt sun and rain, 'twixt seasons bad and good --
Sustain the passion, beautiful to share,
Destined to bring forth what joys it would.
All loves bear fruit, that take the time to grow,
Yielding most to those who patience know.
© by Nicholas Gordon
Dear Subscriber:
This week’s poem of the week is a poem for Valentine'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
Vintners know the value of the soil.
A wine's taste is determined from below.
Love, like wine, takes sun and rain and toil.
Each may vary; the soil remains just so.
Nor can lovers choose the soil their roots
Take hold in. That lies deeper than the will:
In dreams, in loves long past, in lies and truths
None knows, but from the taste that lives distill.
Even so, the toil and the care --
'Twixt sun and rain, 'twixt seasons bad and good --
Sustain the passion, beautiful to share,
Destined to bring forth what joys it would.
All loves bear fruit, that take the time to grow,
Yielding most to those who patience know.
© by Nicholas Gordon
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Poem of the Week
February 3, 2011 #619
Dear Subscriber:
This week’s poem of the week is a poem for the Lunar, or Chinese New Year (The Year of the Rabbit).
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 are those who shy away from being,
However smart or talented, the leader,
Each eagerly behind the scenes, agreeing
Yet again to serve all those who need her.
Everyone is wary of such tension
As being in the spotlight must entail,
Reigning over chaos and dissension,
One who takes the blame when others fail.
For me it is impossible to think
That I for just one moment might be there --
Head of something headed for some brink,
Etched frozen in the flashbulb's frigid glare.
Rabbits tend to run – that's what they do,
Acting well only when well hidden.
Best if you know best what's best for you --
Better off the bidder or the bidden.
I know myself, and so can satisfy
The one backstage, on whom all else rely.
© by Nicholas Gordon
Dear Subscriber:
This week’s poem of the week is a poem for the Lunar, or Chinese New Year (The Year of the Rabbit).
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 are those who shy away from being,
However smart or talented, the leader,
Each eagerly behind the scenes, agreeing
Yet again to serve all those who need her.
Everyone is wary of such tension
As being in the spotlight must entail,
Reigning over chaos and dissension,
One who takes the blame when others fail.
For me it is impossible to think
That I for just one moment might be there --
Head of something headed for some brink,
Etched frozen in the flashbulb's frigid glare.
Rabbits tend to run – that's what they do,
Acting well only when well hidden.
Best if you know best what's best for you --
Better off the bidder or the bidden.
I know myself, and so can satisfy
The one backstage, on whom all else rely.
© by Nicholas Gordon
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Poem of the Week
January 27, 2011 #618
Dear Subscriber:
This week’s poem of the week is a name 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
Aisha is a model Muslim woman:
Intelligent, loving, faithful, modest, kind;
Serving selflessly the words of Islam,
Having held them long in heart and mind;
A soul that seeks, yet knows what it will find.
© by Nicholas Gordon
Dear Subscriber:
This week’s poem of the week is a name 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
Aisha is a model Muslim woman:
Intelligent, loving, faithful, modest, kind;
Serving selflessly the words of Islam,
Having held them long in heart and mind;
A soul that seeks, yet knows what it will find.
© by Nicholas Gordon
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Poem of the Week
January 20, 2011 #617
Dear Subscriber:
This week’s poem of the week is a poem for Winter.
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
Winter is the world's long sleep,
In which the soil gets its rest,
Naked 'neath its blanket white,
Tucked in for the frigid night,
Earth by bitter north wind blessed,
Restored to life by slumber deep.
© by Nicholas Gordon
Dear Subscriber:
This week’s poem of the week is a poem for Winter.
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
Winter is the world's long sleep,
In which the soil gets its rest,
Naked 'neath its blanket white,
Tucked in for the frigid night,
Earth by bitter north wind blessed,
Restored to life by slumber deep.
© by Nicholas Gordon
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Poem of the Week
January 13, 2011 #616
Dear Subscriber:
This week’s poem of the week is a poem for Martin Luther King Jr.'s birthday.
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
Hatred has no color, creed, or race.
All hate, more or less, and thus destroy
The fragile ecosystem of the heart,
Restoring which requires faith and grace.
Each must love for any hope of joy,
Disciplining hate with well-honed art.
© by Nicholas Gordon
Dear Subscriber:
This week’s poem of the week is a poem for Martin Luther King Jr.'s birthday.
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
Hatred has no color, creed, or race.
All hate, more or less, and thus destroy
The fragile ecosystem of the heart,
Restoring which requires faith and grace.
Each must love for any hope of joy,
Disciplining hate with well-honed art.
© by Nicholas Gordon
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Poem of the Week
January 6, 2011 #615
Dear Subscriber:
This week’s poem of the week is a poem for Epiphany.
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
Each year again the gifts are given gladly,
Perhaps because one wants to be a gift.
In goods there can be good, yet sometimes, sadly,
People get the thing but not the drift.
How could the wise men come without some token,
A gift to give the child, new born a king?
Nor could their words speak as their gifts had spoken,
Yielding love incarnate in a thing.
© by Nicholas Gordon
Dear Subscriber:
This week’s poem of the week is a poem for Epiphany.
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
Each year again the gifts are given gladly,
Perhaps because one wants to be a gift.
In goods there can be good, yet sometimes, sadly,
People get the thing but not the drift.
How could the wise men come without some token,
A gift to give the child, new born a king?
Nor could their words speak as their gifts had spoken,
Yielding love incarnate in a thing.
© by Nicholas Gordon
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