Lives Poems

Popular Lives Poems
Masonic Song—ye Sons Of Old Killie -
by Robert Burns

YE sons of old Killie, assembled by Willie,
To follow the noble vocation;
Your thrifty old mother has scarce such another
To sit in that honoured station.
I've little to say, but only to pray,
As praying's the ton of your fashion;
A prayer from thee Muse you well may excuse
'Tis seldom her favourite passion.
Ye powers who preside o'er the wind, and the tide,
Who markèd each element's border;

......

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The Interne
by Maxwell Bodenheim

O the agony of having too much power!
In my passive palm are hundreds of lives.
Strange alchemy, they drain my blood.
My heart becomes iron; my brain copper; my eyes silver; my lips brass.
Merely by twitching a supple finger, I twirl lives from me,
Strong-winged or fluttering and broken.
They are my children: I am their mother and father.
I watch them live and die.

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The Lives I Have Known
by Evelyn Judy Buehler

It has been ages since the laughter died, which was many suns ago,
Soon swept away by fleeting time, like the brief giggle of a rainbow.

My vacant halls now are silent, and the flower garden is overgrown,
Effusing rich and cloying fragrance, lovely nature reclaiming its own.

The tree boughs are overhanging, the bushes begging to be pruned,
Like a piano that once made beautiful music, is begging to be tuned.

The fruit trees so long neglected, has left fruit rotting on the ground,

......

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Recent Lives Poems
The Lives I Have Known
by Evelyn Judy Buehler

It has been ages since the laughter died, which was many suns ago,
Soon swept away by fleeting time, like the brief giggle of a rainbow.

My vacant halls now are silent, and the flower garden is overgrown,
Effusing rich and cloying fragrance, lovely nature reclaiming its own.

The tree boughs are overhanging, the bushes begging to be pruned,
Like a piano that once made beautiful music, is begging to be tuned.

The fruit trees so long neglected, has left fruit rotting on the ground,

......

Continue reading
Masonic Song—ye Sons Of Old Killie -
by Robert Burns

YE sons of old Killie, assembled by Willie,
To follow the noble vocation;
Your thrifty old mother has scarce such another
To sit in that honoured station.
I've little to say, but only to pray,
As praying's the ton of your fashion;
A prayer from thee Muse you well may excuse
'Tis seldom her favourite passion.
Ye powers who preside o'er the wind, and the tide,
Who markèd each element's border;

......

Continue reading
The Interne
by Maxwell Bodenheim

O the agony of having too much power!
In my passive palm are hundreds of lives.
Strange alchemy, they drain my blood.
My heart becomes iron; my brain copper; my eyes silver; my lips brass.
Merely by twitching a supple finger, I twirl lives from me,
Strong-winged or fluttering and broken.
They are my children: I am their mother and father.
I watch them live and die.

Continue reading
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