March 17, 2011 #625
Dear Subscriber:
This week’s poem of the week is a poem for St. Patrick'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
Sing of the home that you have never seen,
The place your ancestors once called their own!
Play the music of that island green,
And dance the dances dear to those long gone!
Time again to fill their dancing shoes,
Reawakening the ghosts within,
In touch with some incendiary muse,
Channeling the beauty that had been.
Knowledge is not merely of the mind:
'Tis of the arms and legs, the throat, the heart.
Sing, that you not lose your soul to time!
Dance, that you might nurture it through art!
As all your passions quickly become past,
Yet you may give life to things that last.
© by Nicholas Gordon
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Poem of the Week
March 10, 2011 #624
Dear Subscriber:
This week’s poem of the week is a thank you for a birthday 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
Thank you all for coming here
To celebrate my life.
But most of all I'd like to thank
My lovely, loving wife.
One gives up a lot for love
In freedom, time, and tears,
And makes commitments that must last
For lifetimes, not just years.
What one gets I can see here –
A world one can call home,
A space that's safe for innocence,
A common comfort zone.
And so I'm glad that you have come,
All gathered in this place
To share this bit of birthday joy,
To share this glimpse of grace;
To share this meal with me as I
Another year accrue,
That I might know the happiness
I wish for all of you.
© by Nicholas Gordon
Dear Subscriber:
This week’s poem of the week is a thank you for a birthday 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
Thank you all for coming here
To celebrate my life.
But most of all I'd like to thank
My lovely, loving wife.
One gives up a lot for love
In freedom, time, and tears,
And makes commitments that must last
For lifetimes, not just years.
What one gets I can see here –
A world one can call home,
A space that's safe for innocence,
A common comfort zone.
And so I'm glad that you have come,
All gathered in this place
To share this bit of birthday joy,
To share this glimpse of grace;
To share this meal with me as I
Another year accrue,
That I might know the happiness
I wish for all of you.
© by Nicholas Gordon
Labels:
birthday poems,
birthday poetry,
poems,
poetry,
thank you poems,
thank you poetry,
thanks
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Poem of the Week
March 3, 2011 #623
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
Four years? No, it cannot be that long!
Only yesterday you two were married!
Unplug the sundial! The shadow must be wrong!
Rotating somethings somewhere have miscarried!
Yet so it is – four years have passed already,
Even as the moment is still here.
As time moves on, the miracle holds steady --
Real life, real love, far more than one can bear,
Simply, truly, beautifully there.
© by Nicholas Gordon
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
Four years? No, it cannot be that long!
Only yesterday you two were married!
Unplug the sundial! The shadow must be wrong!
Rotating somethings somewhere have miscarried!
Yet so it is – four years have passed already,
Even as the moment is still here.
As time moves on, the miracle holds steady --
Real life, real love, far more than one can bear,
Simply, truly, beautifully there.
© by Nicholas Gordon
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Poem of the Week
February 24, 2011 #622
Dear Subscriber:
This week’s poem of the week is a philosophical 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
There is no better time of life than now.
Whatever age you are, this time is best.
Ever in the prime of life, the soul
Needs no source of joy more than the whole,
The One, in whom contingent souls are blessed.
Yet one finds joy as time and change allow.
So may you know the pleasures of your years
Even as they pass, for others come,
Vivid in the moments of their being.
Each lives in both the datum and the sum.
Nor can one separate delight from tears.
© by Nicholas Gordon
Dear Subscriber:
This week’s poem of the week is a philosophical 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
There is no better time of life than now.
Whatever age you are, this time is best.
Ever in the prime of life, the soul
Needs no source of joy more than the whole,
The One, in whom contingent souls are blessed.
Yet one finds joy as time and change allow.
So may you know the pleasures of your years
Even as they pass, for others come,
Vivid in the moments of their being.
Each lives in both the datum and the sum.
Nor can one separate delight from tears.
© by Nicholas Gordon
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Poem of the Week
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
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 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
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