A THOUSAND THINGS By;Esther Esuga

A thousand things I want to share
A thousand things I want to bear
A thousand things I want to do
A thousand things I want to feel
A thousand things I want to see
A THOUSAND THINGS


Written By; Esther Esuga

A TROUBADOUR I TRAVERSE By; Dennis Brutus

A troubadour, I traverse all my land

exploring all her wide flung parts with zest

probing in motion sweeter far than rest

her secret thickets with an amorous hand:

and I have laughed disdaining those who banned

enquiry and movement, delighting in the test

of wills when doomed by Saracened arrest,

choosing, like unarmed thumb, simply to stand.

Thus, quixoting till a cast-off of my land

I sing and fare, person to loved-one pressed

braced for this pressure and the captor's hand

that snaps off service like a weathered strand:

-no mistress-favour has adorned my breast

only the shadow of an arrow brand

Posted By Ozioma Ogbaji

This is another poem I love for its theme and literary expressions. Click here for a synopsis.

ON WEEKEND POSTS

Hey guys,

Thank you for the wonderful feedback.Your words are encouraging. We have found out that some of you have encountered problems while trying to post comments on the blog. We are sorry about that and are working to rectify the problem. Meanwhile, during weekends, we will be sharing with you our favourite poems by poets of old and poets of our time. We also would share poems submitted by friends or acquaintances so feel free to send your poems to poetreeinn@gmail.com. Thank you and tell a friend to tell a friend...xoxo

From Ozioma and Esther

TO HIS COY MISTRESS By; Andrew Marvell

Had we but world enough and time,

This coyness, lady, were no crime.

We would sit down, and think which way

To walk, and pass our long love’s day.

Thou by the Indian Ganges’ side

Shouldst rubies find; I by the tide

Of Humber would complain. I would

Love you ten years before the flood,

And you should, if you please, refuse

Till the conversion of the Jews.

My vegetable love should grow

Vaster than empires and more slow;

An hundred years should go to praise

Thine eyes, and on thy forehead gaze;

Two hundred to adore each breast,

But thirty thousand to the rest;

An age at least to every part,

And the last age should show your heart.

For, lady, you deserve this state,

Nor would I love at lower rate.

       But at my back I always hear

Time’s wingèd chariot hurrying near;

And yonder all before us lie

Deserts of vast eternity.

Thy beauty shall no more be found;

Nor, in thy marble vault, shall sound

My echoing song; then worms shall try

That long-preserved virginity,

And your quaint honour turn to dust,

And into ashes all my lust;

The grave’s a fine and private place,

But none, I think, do there embrace.

Now therefore, while the youthful hue

Sits on thy skin like morning dew,

And while thy willing soul transpires

At every pore with instant fires,

Now let us sport us while we may,

And now, like amorous birds of prey,

Rather at once our time devour

Than languish in his slow-chapped power.

Let us roll all our strength and all

Our sweetness up into one ball,

And tear our pleasures with rough strife

Through the iron gates of life:

Thus, though we cannot make our sun

Stand still, yet we will make him run.

Posted By Ozioma Ogbaji

To His Coy Mistress is one of my favourite poems. It was one of the poems in my syllabus back in school. I love it for the use of language, figures of speech and figures of expression. I also love the use of historical allusion and the entire theme of the poem. Just in case you do not understand literature or poetry this is a synopsis culled from wikipedia

SYNOPSIS: The speaker of the poem addresses a woman who has been slow to respond to his sexual advances. In the first stanza he describes how he would love her if he were to be unencumbered by the constraints of a normal lifespan. He could spend centuries admiring each part of her body and her resistance to his advances (i.e., coyness) would not discourage him. In the second stanza, he laments how short human life is. Once life is over, the speaker contends, the opportunity to enjoy one another is gone, as no one embraces in death. In the last stanza, the speaker urges the woman to requite his efforts, and argues that in loving one another with passion they will both make the most of the brief time they have to live.