March | 2013 | The Bard on the Hill

O soft embalmer of the still midnight,
   Shutting, with careful fingers and benign,
Our gloom-pleased eyes, embowered from the light,
   Enshaded in forgetfulness divine:
O soothest Sleep! If so it please thee, close,
   In midst of this thine hymn, my willing eyes,
Or wait the amen, ere thy poppy throws
   Around my bed its lulling charities.
Then save me, or the passed day will shine
Upon my pillow, breeding many woes, –
   Save me from curious conscience, that still lords
Its strength for darkness, burrowing like a mole;
   Turn the key deftly in the oiled wards,
And seal the hushed casket of my soul.

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This River by Dennis Lange

Posted in My Poems, tagged bard on the hill, Dennis Lange, poems, poetry, river of life, This River on March 28, 2013| 7 Comments »

This River

Remember when my hair was black,
And we were young and gay,
And on this river, we set forth
To spend a summer’s day?

The wind was warm, the water cool,
The river smooth and free.
We were so young we did not know
Where rivers run to be.

Soft clouds were pillows in the sky;
Birds flew among the trees
That lined our way like sentinels.
I rowed; you looked at me.

The water lapping at the oars,
And song the swallows sang,
Plus pulse of hearts that beat as one
Across the river rang.

We were so young and still naïve;
The course we could not know
That currents take, the twists and turns,
The rapids and the slow.

And yet, together, we have come
Down, down the river long
Through good and bad days bound as one.
And hearts still beat as strong.

Remember when my hair was black,
And we were young and gay?
And on this river, we set forth
And passed our lives away.

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photo by Michael Adams-Wade at http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/mP6tT8g/Boating+on+the+river.

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To A Distant Friend by William Wordsworth

Posted in Poems of Other Poets, W-Z, tagged < William Wordsworth, bard on the hill, is thy love a plant, poems, poetry, To A Distant Friend on March 27, 2013| Leave a Comment »

To A Distant Friend

Why art thou silent? Is thy love a plant
Of such weak fibre that the treacherous air
Of absence withers what was once so fair?
Is there no debt to pay, no boon to grant?

Yet have my thoughts for thee been vigilant,
Bound to thy service with unceasing care –
The mind’s least generous wish a mendicant
For nought but what thy happiness could spare.

Speak! – though this soft warm heart, once free to hold
A thousand tender pleasures, thine and mine,
Be left more desolate, more dreary cold.

Than a forsaken bird’s-nest fill’d with snow
‘Mid its own bush of leafless eglantine –
Speak, that my torturing doubts their end may know!

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Three Success/Failure Haiku by Dennis Lange

Posted in My Haiku, tagged bard on the hill, Dennis Lange, Haikus, hard work, poems, poetry, success failure on March 26, 2013| 1 Comment »

Success/Failure

If only
It was that easy –
All spelled out.

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Signs were placed
Day after I went
The wrong way.

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Success sign
Is often in code:
“Hard Work Way”.

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photo by Sigurd Decroos at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/meZaC80/Sign%3A+Success+%26+Failure

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* The haiku I write are lines of 3-5-3 syllables instead of 5-7-5.

See Haiku article here for explanation, if needed: https://thebardonthehill.wordpress.com/2011/08/08/haiku/

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Loss Of The Royal George by William Cowper

Posted in C-D, Poems of Other Poets, tagged bard on the hill, eight hundred, England, Kempenfelt, Loss of the Royal George, poems, poetry, William Cowper on March 25, 2013| 2 Comments »

Sinking of the Royal George (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Loss Of The Royal George

Toll for the Brave!
The brave that are no more!
All sunk beneath the wave
Fast by their native shore!

Eight hundred of the brave
Whose courage was well tried,
Had made the vessel heel
And laid her on her side.

A land-breeze shook the shrouds
And she was overset;
Down went the Royal George,
With all her crew complete.

Toll for the brave!
Brave Kempenfelt is gone;
His last sea-fight is fought,
His work of glory done.

It was not in the battle;
No tempest gave the shock;
She sprang no fatal leak,
She ran upon no rock.

His sword was in its sheath,
His fingers held the pen,
When Kempenfelt went down
With twice four hundred men.

– Weigh the vessel up
Once dreaded by our foes!
And mingle with our cup
The tears that England owes.

Her timbers yet are sound,
And she may float again
Full charged with England’s thunder,
And plough the distant main:

But Kempenfelt is gone,
His victories are o’er;
And he and his eight hundred
Shall plough the wave no more.

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http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/HMS_Royal_George_(1756)

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Woe Floats by Dennis Lange

Posted in Limericks, My Poems, Religious, tagged Dennis Lange, drinking helps one to forget, limerick, poems, poetry, the bard on the hill, whiskey, Woe Floats on March 23, 2013| 7 Comments »

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Woe Floats

Some find their solace in whisky;
But such has proven too risky.
No sorrows are drowned;
They just stay around,
And swim with new friends and get frisky.

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The Indian Serenade by Percy Bysshe Shelley

Posted in Poems of Other Poets, S, tagged bard on the hill, Champak odors, I arise from dreams of thee, love, Percy Bysshe Shelley, poems, poetry, The Indian Serenade on March 23, 2013| 2 Comments »

The Indian Serenade

I arise from dreams of thee
In the first sweet sleep of night,
When the winds are breathing low,
And the stars are shining bright:
I arise from dreams of thee,
And a spirit in my feet
Hath led me – how knows how?
To thy chamber window, Sweet!

The wandering airs they faint
On the dark, the silent stream –
The Champak odors fail
Like sweet thoughts in a dream;
The nightingale’s complaint,
It dies upon her heart; –
As I must on thine,
Oh, beloved as thou art!

Oh lift me from the grass! –
I die! I faint! I fail!
Let thy love in kisses rain
On my lips and eyelids pale.
My cheek is cold and white, alas!
My heart beats loud and fast; –
Oh! press it to thine own again,
Where it will break at last.

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March MADness by Dennis Lange

Posted in Humor, My Poems, Sports, tagged bard on the hill, basketball, bracket, Dennis Lange, Florida Gulf Coast Eagles, Georgetown Hoyas, March Madness, NCAA tournament, number 15 seed beats number two, poems, poetry, sports, upset on March 22, 2013| 1 Comment »

(Photo credit: mvongrue)

March MADness

Florida WHO???
Beat number two!
That smashing sound,
Heard world around,
That awful racket
Was just my bracket
And Hoyas (Georgetown)
As both crashed down.

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