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The Parting Ways

We trod together pleasant ways; The earth was fair and blue the sky; Clear were the nights and bright the days And life was joy, for you were nigh. To-day the road looks steep and grim, And shadows fall on every side, The sun grows strangely blurred and dim-- For in this place our paths divide.(The end)Frank Oliver Call's poem: Parting Ways... Poems - Post by : willQ4u - Date : October 2011 - Author : Frank Oliver Call - Read : 3313

The Ships Of Memory

The silent ships of memory creep Across the seas of long ago; Like phantoms, on a tideless deep, Their pale prows wander to and fro. Some bear the dreams of happy years Or bring a cargo all of gold; Some bear a freight of useless tears, For love and sorrow long untold. And each man takes the proffered dower For golden grain or bitter loss; O, happy he that hath the power To take the gold and leave... Poems - Post by : stwoodruff - Date : October 2011 - Author : Frank Oliver Call - Read : 1349

The Indifferent Ones

Unmoved they sit by the stream of life And its blood-red tide to the sea goes down, While the hosts are borne through the surging strife To a hero's death and a martyr's crown. They pay no toll of their gold or blood; For them 'tis a pageant and naught beside; So they calmly dream by the reeking flood, While the sun goes down in the crimson tide.(The end)Frank Oliver Call's poem: Indifferent Ones... Poems - Post by : crafty - Date : October 2011 - Author : Frank Oliver Call - Read : 2793

The Frozen Brook

The winter woods lie gray and still Beneath the dreary sunless skies, The brook that rippled down the hill In summer hours, all silent lies. And though its breast by ice is bound, By bending low and listening long, I hear a faint and far-off sound-- The echo of a summer song. O weary heart, though cold and drear The days along thy pathway seem, To Nature's breast bend low thine ear And listen to its pulsing stream.(The... Poems - Post by : TheVirtualOne - Date : October 2011 - Author : Frank Oliver Call - Read : 1827

The Old School Bell

I can hear it calling, calling, sounding on the morning breeze, As so often I have heard it call before, And its ringing thrills my spirit as the wind the whispering trees, But alas, I know for me it calls no more. Ah, how sweet the memory lingers! Though old Time's relentless fingers Oft have turned the glass while flowed the sands away, Yet I'd give the dearest treasure Hardly gained from Fortune's measure, Could I... Poems - Post by : whtever - Date : October 2011 - Author : Frank Oliver Call - Read : 3225

Eternity

Eternity thou dark unbounded sea, Upon whose tide we drift into the night, One moment let us with our mortal sight Pierce through the fogs and know thy mystery. Voiceless thou art and voiceless wilt thou be, Across thy still, cold deeps there comes no light, While age and aeon or a moment's flight Pass on as one and vanish lost in thee. Yet onward driven must our frail barques go, Though through the night no beacon gleams afar,... Poems - Post by : 53175 - Date : October 2011 - Author : Frank Oliver Call - Read : 2237

A Year Ago

The waters of the river gleamed as brightly And murmured with the same untiring flow, The branches of the birches tossed as lightly, Among them sang the breeze as soft and low, A year ago. We sat beneath the white-stemmed birches bending To reach the gurgling waters of the bay, We saw the boats their courses seaward wending, And earth seemed fair,--before us life's long day, Night far... Poems - Post by : merled - Date : October 2011 - Author : Frank Oliver Call - Read : 2574

The Vision

A vision came unto a saint of old Of a fair city by a crystal stream, Its gates of pearl, its streets of shining gold,-- Barbaric splendours of a mystic's dream. There upon floating wings the white-robed throng No man can number chant in endless song; Across the tideless sea no shadow falls To dim the glory of the sapphire walls, Or mar the splendour of the throne-crowned height. Ah love, the mystic's vision wakes to-night, With all its glittering show and kingly pride, No longing... Poems - Post by : daniel8562ha - Date : October 2011 - Author : Frank Oliver Call - Read : 3633

On Mount Royal

I climb its sides when the day grows old And its mighty shadow falls deep and wide, And over the gleam of the sunset's gold The darkness creeps like a rising tide; And higher and higher up rocky height, Past oaks that are gnarled by the winter's blast, I climb till a marvellous vision of light Breaks forth on my wondering sight at last. Dome and spire of house of prayer, Convent cloister gloomy and gray, Street and market and bridge... Poems - Post by : gouzts - Date : October 2011 - Author : Frank Oliver Call - Read : 2637

The Snowdrift

The snowflakes fell on a mountain peak, Where the rocks were bare and the winds were bleak, And at first they clung to the mountain's breast, But soon they fell from its lofty crest, And stained and soiled was the new-born snow When it reached the valley far down below. But up on the height one drift alone Still firmly clung to the rugged stone, And men in the gloomy vale below Looked up and gazed on the shining snow, And their darkened souls drank in the light From the... Poems - Post by : rrwooddog - Date : October 2011 - Author : Frank Oliver Call - Read : 2436

The Chambly Rapid

There's a spirit in the rapid, calling, calling through the night, There's a gleam upon the water, burning pale and burning bright. Woe to him who hears the calling! Woe to him who sees the light! My son and I had left St. Jean, Our paddles dipping in the blue, And many miles to north had gone Along the silent Richelieu; The night came down, we thought of rest; A threatening cloud hung in the west.... Poems - Post by : dopom9 - Date : October 2011 - Author : Frank Oliver Call - Read : 1383

A Lincolnshire Maiden

Long the eastern beaches, Where brown the seaweed grows, And over broad salt meadows, The green tide ebbs and flows. Above the low-roofed houses, Two ancient towers rise, And stand like giant druids, Against the wind-swept skies. Through mist or rain or sunshine, Their prows festooned with foam, The fishing-boats go outward Or laden, turn them home. She watches by the window, And tearless are her eyes; She sees not church or tower,... Poems - Post by : tim3333 - Date : October 2011 - Author : Frank Oliver Call - Read : 3530

In A Belgian Garden

Once in a Belgian garden, (Ah, many months ago!) I saw like pale Madonnas The tall white lilies blow. Great poplars swayed and trembled Afar against the sky, And green with flags and rushes The river wandered by. Amid the waving wheatfields Glowed poppies blazing red, And showering strange wild music A lark rose overhead. * * * * *... Poems - Post by : Eaglemarkets - Date : October 2011 - Author : Frank Oliver Call - Read : 3158

Prayer

I. A wind-bell hung at the gateway of an ancient temple And played the music taught it by the wind, At times soft, like bubbles breaking in a fountain, When the breeze of summer night caressed it, Then loud and jangling when the typhoon swept across the sea, Or low and moaning when the temple gongs sounded for prayer. And the people, Who never heard the music of the wind, Paused to listen to the wind-bell, And then passed on through the temple gate, With music echoing in their ears.... Poems - Post by : MarkU - Date : October 2011 - Author : Frank Oliver Call - Read : 3598

The Loon's Cry

Outside the tent Darkness and giant trees swaying in the wind. The lake is moaning in its troubled sleep. And far across the lazy lapping waves, Above the crooning of the wind, I hear a wild loon crying, Like a weary soul alone on the dark water. Inside the tent Your gentle breathing, Untroubled by crooning wind or wailing loon; Your face is lighted by the embers of the fire. Fainter and farther away echoes the loon's cry, But now it is only the voice of Loneliness Bidding... Poems - Post by : JBowery - Date : October 2011 - Author : Frank Oliver Call - Read : 3475

Cups Of Jade

The mists lie along the iris-purple valleys; The little wooden bridge, Where the waterfall rings its silver bells, Is a bow of darkness; The dust of the highway is gray as ashes under our feet; A cloud of night-birds Dots the orange sky. All day our paths have led us side by side Along the steep hot highways. It is cool evening now, And the temple bells call you one way And the silence calls me another. We come to the white door-posts of your house, We leave... Poems - Post by : jstrellner - Date : October 2011 - Author : Frank Oliver Call - Read : 3028

Japanese Love-songs

(In the Hokku manner) I. The white lotus-flower Grows in the depths of the pool, Love grows in my heart. II. The peony flames crimson. My heart's blood is far redder Than its flame. III. Sere iris leaves and dead blossoms. Mist and drizzle of rain. Where art thou? IV. Darkness. Shadows in my soul. The vision of your face. Dawn and music. V. Hush of night. Perfumed breath of night. A moth with flaming wings. Come beloved.(The end)Frank... Poems - Post by : Charlotte - Date : October 2011 - Author : Frank Oliver Call - Read : 1438

Japanese Iris

A great prince of the ancient days Once loved a little geisha girl, Who wore a silken robe, Blue as the waters of the lily-pond. But the Great Prince was sent to a distant island, And the little geisha girl Never put on her robe of blue again. And you, O purple iris with the golden bands, Are the soul of the Great Prince; And you, O slender one, Blue as lapis lazuli, Are the soul of the little dancing-girl; And you nestle at last Beside your stately... Poems - Post by : simonpayn - Date : October 2011 - Author : Frank Oliver Call - Read : 1501

A Venetian Palace

In quivering translucent light, Her head resting upon the blue pillow of the sky, Her feet upon the floor of the smoke-blue water, Sleeps Beauty, Turned to stone by a miracle of art. And though she never stirs, But slumbers on in a worn and faded robe Rose-colored and bordered with old lace of ivory white, We come from far-off cities, And we turn to her our hungry eyes, Even away from sunlit sky and sea.(The end)Frank Oliver Call's poem: Venetian Palace... Poems - Post by : Scott_Doppke - Date : October 2011 - Author : Frank Oliver Call - Read : 777

Japanese Prints

I.--THE LADY WITH THE YELLOW FAN O little lady with the yellow fan Why are you so sad? Why does a tear stand Like a tea-flower bud upon your cheek? Your dress is of blue and scarlet silk, Your slippers are embroidered with gems, A gold and emerald butterfly has lighted in your hair, Your serving-maid stands near Awaiting your command, And if you lifted but one slender finger A chariot would come and carry you away to your father's palace. Why are you so sad? It is... Poems - Post by : dzinecity - Date : October 2011 - Author : Frank Oliver Call - Read : 2217

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