Poem of the Week

March 24, 2011 #626

Dear Subscriber:

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

Spring springs out singing from the womb,
Passionate and prodigal,
Returning in a blaze of bliss,
Improvident, impetuous,
Neighbor's backyard canticle,
Grace bursting grandly into bloom!

© by Nicholas Gordon

Poem of the Week

March 17, 2011 #625

Dear Subscriber:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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