Friday, October 23, 2015

Anne Tibbitts writes

 
A set of three
 
[1]
 
Oh my 
U sleeping beside me
The movie on so intense
My dog tunneled under the covers
I never knew this kind of ease
The kind of love u give
Something out of this world
Im ur virgin
Im the girl who fell in love w u
Im the woman here beside u now

Im the luckiest woman alive
 
[2]
 
-Live with me
And be my love 
For i

Shall not forsake you
Our life can be a wondrous thing
That i know for sure

To be all yours
A dream come true
Its never gonna fade
My love for u is way down deep
Which nothing shall uproot

You are the man for me my love
Dont question that again
One day ull wake up next to me
And really understand------
 
[3]
 
The sheets are gone girl where u lay
Im sorry its your loss
So come and get ur things right soon
Before they gather moss

U had ur chance to love this man
Beside me who does sleep
I gather u would rather fly
Than plant ur roots down deep

And so it goes
Its my turn now youll never get back in
Cause clearly girl u played a hand
That simply cannot win

5 comments:

  1. Christopher Marlowe opened his poem, "The Passionate Shepherd to His Love" with a line that has been reused continuously in English poems and songs. Here is a very small sample, beginning with Marlowe's original:

    Come live with me and be my love,
    And we will all the pleasures prove,
    That Valleys, groves, hills, and fields,
    Woods, or steepy mountain yields.

    And we will sit upon the Rocks,
    Seeing 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
    Embroidered all with leaves of Myrtle;

    A gown made of the finest wool
    Which from our pretty Lambs we pull;
    Fair lined 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.

    The Shepherds’ 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.

    Walter Ralegh responded almost immediately with his " The Nymph's Reply To The Shepherd":

    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.

    Times drives the 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 reason rotten.

    Thy belt of straw and ivy buds,
    Thy coral clasps and amber studs,
    All these to 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.

    (William Shakespeare "borrowed" freely from both of his predecessors in THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR)

    ReplyDelete
  2. The borrowing continued, even by major poets such as John Donne in "The Bait":

    Come live with me, and be my love,
    And we will some new pleasure prove
    Of golden sands and christal brooks
    With silken lines and silver hooks.

    There will the river whispering run,
    Warm'd by thine eyes more than the sun;
    And there th' enamoured fish will stay
    Begging themselves they may betray.

    When thou wilt swim in that live bath,
    Each fish which every channel hath
    Will amorously to thee swim,
    Gladder to catch thee than thou him.

    If thou to be so seen beest loath
    By sun or moon, thou darkenest both ;
    And if my self have leave to see,
    I heed not their light, having thee.

    Let others freeze with angling reeds
    And cut their legs with shells and weeds,
    Or treacherously poor fish beset
    With strangling snare or winding net.

    Let coarse bold hands from slimy nest
    The bedded fish in banks outwrest,
    Or curious traitors, sleave-silk flies,
    Bewitch poor fishes' wandering eyes.

    For thee, thou need'st no such deceit,
    For thou thyself art thine own bait:
    That fish that is not catched thereby,
    Alas, is wiser far than I.

    Here's Izaak Walton's "The Milk-Maid's Mother's Response" from “The Complete Angler: or, the contemplative man's recreation”

    The milk-maid's mother's response:

    But time drives flocks from field to fold:
    When rivers rage and rocks grow cold,
    And Philomel becometh dumb,
    The age 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 sorrows 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 reason rotten.

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

    What should we talk of dainties then,
    Of better meat than's fit for men?
    These are but vain: that's only good
    Which God hath blest, and sent for food.

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

    ReplyDelete

  3. The love of that line was not just an affectation of the 17th century but persists to the present; for example, here's Cecil Day Lewis:

    Come, live with me and be my love,
    And we will all the pleasures prove
    Of peace and plenty, bed and board,
    That chance employment may afford.

    I’ll handle dainties on the docks
    And thou shalt read of summer frocks:
    At evening by the sour canals
    We’ll hope to hear some madrigals.

    Care on thy maiden brow shall put
    A wreath of wrinkles, and thy foot
    Be shod with pain: not silken dress
    But toil shall tire thy loveliness.

    Hunger shall make thy modest zone
    And cheat fond death of all but bone –
    If these delight thy mind may move,
    Then live with me and be my love.

    And of course there are the popular song lyrics. Here are Cindy Walker's lyrics to a song made popular by Eddy Arnold:

    Come live with me and be my love
    Come fullfill the dreams my heart's dreaming of
    While the turtle dove calls to the mist as Aparil rain falls
    Oh, come live with me and be my love.

    Come take my hand and walk with me
    Unafraid to face whatever may be
    While the wildwoods murmur
    With the sweetest wind song of summer.

    Oh, come live with me and be my love
    And say to me autumn leaves turned to gold
    Stay and hold me in your arms
    When the world is cold.

    Come live with me and be my love
    While the candle shine and bells ring above
    And forsake me never could be my love forever
    Oh, come live with me and be my love...

    And even the Waterboys' song (by Marty Ware, Ian Marsh, and Glen Gregory):,

    Come live with me and be my love
    Share my bread and wine
    Be a part of me, the heart of me
    Be mine
    Come live with me and be my love
    Let our dreams combine
    Be wife to me, be life to me
    Be mine
    With these hands I will build a roof
    To shield your head
    And with these hands I will carve the wood
    For our baby's bed
    Come live with me and be my love
    And let me love you all the time
    Be mate to me, be fate to me
    Be mine
    I will try to do my best for you
    I swear, I promise you
    I will cry for you, I will comfort you
    My whole life through
    Come live with me and be my love
    Share my bread and wine
    Be a part of me, be the heart of me
    Be mine

    ReplyDelete
  4. I never miss a chance to read Anne. I love part 3!

    ReplyDelete

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