A Rainy Evening / Casey Stewart

In a room lined with marble
I find a moment of peace
Standing there with a calm breath
I realize, life goes on...
An eveing of temptations
Has come to an end and
once again, I sit with friends
The world can wait...
I have found my escape
Friends keep me afloat
When the storm is too dark
For land to be seen
They are my light in the shadows
All I needed to relax was a rainy evening... 

P.S. thanks to Sulagna for suggesting Casey Stewart.

I Love You / Sara Teasdale

When April bends above me
And finds me fast asleep
Dust need not keep the secret
A live heart died to keep.


When April tells the thrushes,
The meadow-larks will know,
And pipe the three words lightly
To all the winds that blow.


Above his roof the swallows,
In notes like far-blown rain,
Will tell the little sparrow
Beside his window-pane.


O sparrow, little sparrow,
When I am fast asleep,
Then tell my love the secret
That I have died to keep.

Do not stand at my grave and weep by Mary Elizabeth Frye

Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am in a thousand winds that blow,
I am the softly falling snow.
I am the gentle showers of rain,
I am the fields of ripening grain.
I am in the morning hush,
I am in the graceful rush
Of beautiful birds in circling flight,
I am the starshine of the night.
I am in the flowers that bloom,
I am in a quiet room.
I am in the birds that sing,
I am in each lovely thing.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there. I do not die.




*** Do not stand at my grave and weep is a poem written in 1932 by Mary Elizabeth Frye. Although the origin of the poem was disputed until later in her life, Mary Frye's authorship was confirmed in 1998 after research by Abigail Van Buren, a newspaper columnist.

Funeral Blues / W.H.Auden

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone.
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling in the sky the message He is Dead,
Put crêpe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever, I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun.
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

Love Poem XIV : I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees

Every day you play with the light of the universe.
Subtle visitor, you arrive in the flower and the water.
You are more than this white head that I hold tightly
as a cluster of fruit, every day, between my hands.

You are like nobody since I love you.
Let me spread you out among yellow garlands.
Who writes your name in letters of smoke among the stars of the south?
Oh let me remember you as you were before you existed.

Suddenly the wind howls and bangs at my shut window.
The sky is a net crammed with shadowy fish.
Here all the winds let go sooner or later, all of them.
The rain takes off her clothes.

The birds go by, fleeing.
The wind. The wind.
I can contend only against the power of men.
The storm whirls dark leaves
and turns loose all the boats that were moored last night to the sky.

You are here. Oh, you do not run away.
You will answer me to the last cry.
Cling to me as though you were frightened.
Even so, at one time a strange shadow ran through your eyes.

Now, now too, little one, you bring me honeysuckle,
and even your breasts smell of it.
While the sad wind goes slaughtering butterflies
I love you, and my happiness bites the plum of your mouth.

How you must have suffered getting accustomed to me,
my savage, solitary soul, my name that sends them all running.
So many times we have seen the morning star burn, kissing our eyes,
and over our heads the gray light unwind in turning fans.

My words rained over you, stroking you.
A long time I have loved the sunned mother-of-pearl of your body.
I go so far as to think that you own the universe.
I will bring you happy flowers from the mountains, bluebells,
dark hazels, and rustic baskets of kisses.

I want
to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.

Clenched Soul / Pablo Neruda

We have lost even this twilight.
No one saw us this evening hand in hand
While the blue night dropped on the world.
I have seen from my window
The fiesta of sunset in the distant mountain tops.
Sometimes a piece of sunburned like a coin in my hand.
I remembered you with my soul clenched
In that sadness of mine that you know.
Where were you then?
Who else was there?
Saying what?
Why will the whole of love come on me suddenly?
When I am sad and feel you are far away?
The book fell that always closed at twilight
And my blue sweater rolled like a hurt dog at my feet.
Always, always you recede through the evenings
Toward the twilight erasing statues.

Ghost Story / Sting

I watch the Western sky
The sun is sinking
The geese are flying South
It sets me thinking


I did not miss you much
I did not suffer
What did not kill me
Just made me tougher


I feel the winter come
His icy sinews
Now in the fire light
The case continues


Another night in court
The same old trial
The same old questions asked
The same denial


The shadows closely run
Like jury members
I look for answers in
The fire's embers


Why was I missing then
That whole December
I give my usual line:
I don't remember


Another winter comes
His icy fingers creep
Into these bones of mine
These memories never sleep


And all these differences
A cloak I borrow
We kept our distances
Why should it follow I must have loved you


What is the force that binds the stars
I wore this mask to hide my scars
What is the power that pulls the tide
I never could find a place to hide


What moves the Earth around the sun
What could I do but run and run and run
Afraid to love, afraid to fail
A mast without a sail


The moon's a fingernail and slowly sinking
Another day begins and now I'm thinking
That this indifference was my invention
When everything I did sought your attention


You were my compass star
You were my measure
You were a pirate's map
A buried treasure


If this was all correct
The last thing I'd expect
The prosecution rests
It's time that I confess: I must have loved you