Author Topic: Victoria's Poetry Stop (Read 55753 times)

Divine Metamorphoses · « **Reply #30 on:** February 16, 2016, 02:23:06 am »

Quote from: pryzmsticv on February 16, 2016, 12:44:11 am

Quote from: Divine Metamorphoses on February 13, 2016, 12:27:14 am
Lady Victoria

I can feel the intensity of emotions that are tearing my heart for the pain felt and seen.

Love has many different definitions at different stages.

Thank you for showing us the anguish that exists in this life

Much love and light
Divine
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Thank you lady D, it was and had been in my heart & my head. She could have so many times, given her life. She is not just a friend but my sister. So from the heart it did wrestle with me. Thank you my dear for the beauty of your words. Luv you😚 my dear

Lady V you're in my thoughts and prayers always beautiful!

Thank you for sharing such expressive haunting amazing prose the story behind it.

Life is full of trials and tribulations.
Learning to close the chapter is one of the toughest things to do.

Love and light
Divine

pryzmsticv · « **Reply #31 on:** February 16, 2016, 02:29:16 am »

Thank you lady D, it took alot for me, but my mother isn't around anymore to help her, nor my brother that wanted to kill him. But there was better ways. My prose are my therapy as it goes. Thank you so my dear friend. Luv ya😚

Divine Metamorphoses · « **Reply #32 on:** February 16, 2016, 02:43:27 am »

Quote from: pryzmsticv on February 16, 2016, 02:29:16 am

Thank you lady D, it took alot for me, but my mother isn't around anymore to help her, nor my brother that wanted to kill him. But there was better ways. My prose are my therapy as it goes. Thank you so my dear friend. Luv ya😚

Serendipitous how we are all united in the Camelot fantasy

Love you sweet soul
They who are on the other side too send love

We are here for you
Thank you for sharing
Love and light
Divine

pryzmsticv · « **Reply #33 on:** February 16, 2016, 02:52:41 am »

BEATING HEARTS

As I drift thru the mist, visions of mine persist.
Memories ov a time, when my life was refined.
Decades do I respect, ov the mortals I protect.
Resentment of our kind, crimson was the contentment to the mind.
Feared for years, we hunted & persevered.
Bloodletting ov severe, aromas so Devine.
To luv was distant, with the beating of the heart.
Charismatic was life, as death do us part.
Loneliness is mundane, a luver I need to claim.
Am I willing, to cause so much pain.
Loosing myself, thru the facets of my brain.
With deep respect, my luv I wish to retain.
Beating hearts, no longer do i refrain.

pryzmsticv · « **Reply #34 on:** February 16, 2016, 03:06:15 am »

LUVS PRIDE

Loneliness a brilliant spell, where darkness could preside.
It could take you to hell, with the distancing ov your pride.
Luving is the finesse, ov the solution ov fear.
For hells' emptiness, luv is to persevere.
Fear not the luv, that you compel.
More brilliant, is Luvs' spell.
Luv will reside,with in your pride.

Clay Death · « **Reply #35 on:** February 16, 2016, 03:10:31 am »

Clay Death · « **Reply #36 on:** February 16, 2016, 03:11:43 am »

Clay Death · « **Reply #37 on:** February 16, 2016, 03:12:19 am »

pryzmsticv · « **Reply #38 on:** February 16, 2016, 03:28:09 am »

Thank you so much, for the images, my dear. You always persevere with you beauty & respect. Your work doth inspire, works ov poetic desires. With great admiration I Thank You Sire 😚

Clay Death · « **Reply #39 on:** February 16, 2016, 03:31:04 am »

Quote from: pryzmsticv on February 16, 2016, 03:06:15 am

LUVS PRIDE

Loneliness a brilliant spell, where darkness could preside.
It could take you to hell, with the distancing ov your pride.
Luving is the finesse, ov the solution ov fear.
For hells' emptiness, luv is to persevere.
Fear not the luv, that you compel.
More brilliant, is Luvs' spell.
Luv will reside,with in your pride.

wonderful prose.

EquineAnn · « **Reply #40 on:** February 16, 2016, 10:20:27 am »

You have written some good poems there.

pryzmsticv · « **Reply #41 on:** February 17, 2016, 12:05:50 am »

Thank You Sire & lady Ann with poetics minds that we have here at Camelot, inspirations will commandeer, the beauty that is so dear. Thank you again my dear friends.😚

Clay Death · « **Reply #42 on:** February 17, 2016, 12:12:34 am »

The Passionate Shepherd to His Love

Come live with me and be my Love,
And we will all the pleasures prove,
That hills and valleys, dales and field,
Or woods or steepy mountain yields.

And we will sit upon the rocks
And see the shepherds feed their flocks,
By shallow rivers, to whose falls
Melodious birds sing madrigals.

And I will make thee beds of roses
And a thousand fragrant posies,
A cap of flowers, and a kirtle
Embroider'd all with leaves of myrtle.

A gown made of the finest wool,
Which from our pretty lambs we pull,
Fair linèd slippers for the cold,
With buckles of the purest gold.

A belt of straw and ivy buds
With coral clasps and amber studs:
And if these pleasures may thee move,
Come live with me and be my Love.

Thy silver dishes for thy meat
As precious as the gods do eat,
Shall on an ivory table be
Prepared each day for thee and me.

The shepherd swains shall dance and sing
For thy delight each May-morning:
If these delights thy mind may move,
Then live with me and be my Love.

Christopher Marlowe (1564-1593)

Clay Death · « **Reply #43 on:** February 17, 2016, 12:16:26 am »

Her Reply

If all the world and love were young,
And truth in every shepherd's tongue,
These pretty pleasures might me move
To live with thee and be thy Love.

But Time drives flocks from field to fold;
When rivers rage and rocks grow cold;
And Philomel becometh dumb;
The rest complains of cares to come.

The flowers do fade, and wanton fields
To wayward Winter reckoning yields:
A honey tongue, a heart of gall,
Is fancy's spring, but sorrow's fall.

Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses,
Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies
Soon break, soon wither--soon forgotten,
In folly ripe, in season rotten.

Thy belt of straw and ivy-buds,
Thy coral clasps and amber studs,--
All these in me no means can move
To come to thee and be thy Love.

But could youth last, and love still breed,
Had joys no date, nor age no need,
Then these delights my mind might move
To live with thee and be thy Love.

Sir Walter Raleigh (1552?-1618)

Clay Death · « **Reply #44 on:** February 17, 2016, 12:20:02 am »

Corinna's Going A-Maying

by Robert Herrick
(1591-1674)

Get up, get up for shame, the blooming Morn
Upon her wings presents the god unshorn.
See how Aurora throws her fair
Fresh-quilted colours through the air;
Get up, sweet slug-a-bed, and see
The dew bespangling herb and tree.
Each flower has wept, and bow'd toward the east,
Above an hour since; yet you not drest,
Nay! not so much as out of bed?
When all the birds have matins said,
And sung their thankful hymns, 'tis sin,
Nay, profanation, to keep in,
Whenas a thousand virgins on this day
Spring, sooner than the lark, to fetch in May.

Rise; and put on your foliage, and be seen
To come forth, like the spring-time, fresh and green;
And sweet as Flora. Take no care
For jewels for your gown, or hair;
Fear not, the leaves will strew
Gems in abundance upon you;
Besides, the childhood of the day has kept,
Against you come, some orient pearls unwept;
Come and receive them while the light
Hangs on the dew-locks of the night;
And Titan on the eastern hill
Retires himself, or else stands still
Till you come forth. Wash, dress, be brief in praying;
Few beads are best when once we go a-Maying.

Come, my Corinna, come; and, coming, mark
How each field turns a street, each street a park
Made green and trimm'd with trees; see how
Devotion gives each house a bough
Or branch; each porch, each door ere this
An ark, a tabernacle is,
Made up of white-thorn, neatly interwove;
As if here were those cooler shades of love.
Can such delights be in the street
And open fields and we not see't?
Come, we'll abroad; and let's obey
The proclamation made for May,
And sin no more, as we have done, by staying;
But my Corinna, come, let's go a-Maying.

There's not a budding boy, or girl, this day,
But is got up, and gone to bring in May.
A deal of youth, ere this, is come
Back, and with white-thorn laden, home.
Some have despatch'd their cakes and cream,
Before that we have left to dream;
And some have wept, and woo'd, and plighted troth,
And chose their priest, ere we can cast off sloth;
Many a green-gown has been given;
Many a kiss, both odd and even;
Many a glance too has been sent
From out the eye, love's firmament;
Many a jest told of the keys betraying
This night, and locks pick'd, yet we're not a-Maying.

Come, let us go, while we are in our prime;
And take the harmless folly of the time.
We shall grow old apace, and die
Before we know our liberty.
Our life is short, and our days run
As fast away as does the sun;
And as a vapour, or a drop of rain,
Once lost, can ne'er be found again,
So when or you or I are made
A fable, song, or fleeting shade,
All love, all liking, all delight
Lies drown'd with us in endless night.
Then while time serves, and we are but decaying,
Come, my Corinna, come, let's go a-Maying.

CAMELOT FANTASIES

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Author Topic: Victoria's Poetry Stop (Read 55753 times)

Divine Metamorphoses

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