New Members to Patricia's Poetry Society

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LOST IN THE INTERNET

I do not know where my poem went
perhaps to your other address it was sent
mayhaps lost in electronic never land,
surely it's not at the beach on the sand.
perhaps a wave carried it to far off strands
could it be wending towards you via strange lands?
Ah, sweet mystery of the internet.

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Submit to Validate?

I sit here in the dark of my home,
I see your webpages take form.
I think you must enjoy this forum.
It looks great on my monitor,
What monitorial variation are you looking for?
I like to write doggerel,
I like to hear them read it and scream "Holy Mackerel!"
What do you mean submit text to validate?
I'll never submit at this rate,
So, off goes my text,
You shall now look forward to the next.

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A Quiet Place

Each man needs a qiet place,
Wherein to meet God face to face,
A very private interlude,
In which no other may intrude.
There are things one cannot share
With another anywhere,
Feelings that the heart has known,
Only meant for God alone.

Heartache often leaves a scar,
Being human as we are,
But in crowds one cannot find
That illusive peace-of-mind.
There's a bit of hermit in
The most eloquent of men,
Who must leave the beaten track,
To get their lost perspective back.

And though it is very true,
"No man is an island," you
Must stop awhile and walk apart
To hear the music of your heart.
Cast off the old distractions, find
God's love beyond the dawn of time,
And entering a quiet place,
...Speak to your Maker, face to face.

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Ode to Quintessa

For a moment in time,
I held you in my hands....
Almost,
My little Sonbeam.
I watched you sparkle and dance
Across the green earth,
Full of life and joy!
Too perfect.
Then, too soon,The Son
Drew you back unto Himself.
Now you are free
To sparkle and dance with Him,
Full of joy
Across the Heavens,
His little Sonbeam!
Too perfect,
Quintessa

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The following sonnet was sent to me from a friend in Italy.
It is one she memorized in school many, many years ago.

ALLA SERA (Italian Sonnet) by Ugo Foscolo, Italina Poet, (1778-1827)

Forse perché della fatal quiete
tu sei l’immago a me sì cara vieni
o sera! E quando ti corteggian liete
le nubi estive e i zeffiri sereni,
e quando dal nevoso aere inquiete
tenebre e lunghe all’universo meni
sempre scendi invocata, e le secrete
vie del mio cor soavemente tieni.

Vagar mi fai co’ miei pensier su l’orme
che vanno al nulla eterno; e intanto fugge
questo reo tempo e van con lui le torme
delle cure onde meco egli si strugge;
e mentre io guardo la tua pace, dorme
quello spirto guerrier ch’entro mi rugge.

Sent by Prof. Dr Olimpia Coppellotti Krupa, Padova (Italy) - Entered in this web page - Nov 24, 2008

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Web Pages Created, May 4, 2000, by Patricia Foreman
Graphics selections and modifications by Patricia Foreman
Last edited Nov 24, 2008