The Mystery
If sunset clouds could grow on trees
It would but match the may in flower;
And skies be underneath the seas
No topsyturvier than a shower.
If mountains rose on wings to wander
They were no wilder than a cloud;
Yet all my praise is mean as slander,
Mean as these mean words spoken aloud.
And never more than now I know
That man's first heaven is far behind;
Unless the blazing seraph's blow
Has left him in the garden blind.
Witness, O Sun that blinds our eyes,
Unthinkable and unthankable King,
That though all other wonder dies
I wonder at not wondering.
poem by G.K. Chesterton
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
The Mystery
If sunset clouds could grow on trees
It would but match the may in flower;
And skies be underneath the seas
No topsyturvier than a shower.
If mountains rose on wings to wander
They were no wilder than a cloud;
Yet all my praise is mean as slander,
Mean as these mean words spoken aloud.
And never more than now I know
That man's first heaven is far behind;
Unless the blazing seraph's blow
Has left him in the garden blind.
Witness, O Sun that blinds our eyes,
Unthinkable and unthankable King,
That though all other wonder dies
I wonder at not wondering.
poem by Gilbert Keith Chesterton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Nature's Rose
As the vast nature
blinds the eye by its beauty
the trees grow taller
the grasses grow greener
The animals grow more peaceful in their natural habitat
But none grow as beautiful as the red rose
As the red rose grows day by day
I walk by it desiring to pick it
Sitting and waiting for the petals to grow more mature
To grow and show off the beauty of the rose
Years go by and the rose is almost grown
This special rose is different from the rest.
Others grow, beautify, and die
While this one grows year after year
The blood of the rose is pure
as it flows up and through the beautiful flower
But the rose has not completed its growth
I run my hand down the body of the beautiful flower
Shedding my blood from the sharp thorns
I grasp the flower and thrust it from the ground
As my blood drips, the blood of the flowers does so too
The red of both mix and mature and fall to the ground dropp after drop
The smell of the flower overtakes the pain
This is Nature's Rose
Winter Sunset
Roses in the sky,
Roses in the sea
Bowers of scarlet sky-roses
Take my heart and me.
God was good to make,
This December weather,
All this sky a rose-garden,
Rose and fire together.
To the East are burning
Roses in a garden,
Roses in a rosy field,
Hesper for their warden.
Yonder to the West
Roses all afire,
Mirror now some rare splendid
Rose of their desire.
Pulsing deeper, deeper,
Waves of fire throb on,
Never were such red roses
At sunset or dawn.
Roses on the hills,
Roses in the hollow,
Roses on the wet hedges,
In the shining fallow.
West wind, blow and blow!
That has blown ajar
Gates of God's great rose-garden,
Where His Angels are,
Gathering up the rose-leaves
For a shower of roses
On the night the Lord Babe
His sweet eye uncloses.
All the sky is scarlet
Flaming on the azure.
O, there's fire in Heaven
My heart aches with pleasure.
Leagues of rose and scarlet,
Roses red as blood:
All the world's a rose-garden.
God is good, is good.
poem by Katharine Tynan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Wildflowers
The hills were alive with wildflowers
And I was as wild, even wilder than they
For at least I could run, they just died in the sun
And I refused to just wither in place
Just a wild mountain rose, needing freedom to grow
So I ran fearing not where Id go
When a flower grows wild, it can always survive
Wildflowers dont care where they grow
And the flowers I knew in the fields where I grew
Were content to be lost in the crowd
They were common and close, I had no room for growth
I wanted so much to branch out
I uprooted myself from home ground and left
Took my dreams and I took to the road
When a flower grows wild, it can always survive
Wildflowers dont care where they grow
I grew up fast and wild and I never felt right
In a garden so different from me
I just never belonged, I just longed to be gone
So the garden, one day, set me free
Hitched a ride with the wind and since he was my friend
I just let him decide where wed go
When a flower grows wild, it can always survive
Wildflowers dont care where they grow
Repeat chorus
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Rainbow Shower
Hey rainbow shower, rainbow shower
shower on me, shower on me..
Pick a pink flower, a shy pink flower
and shower on me, shower on me
Hey rainbow shower, I m lost in a hey
Sprinkle the purple orchids n roses
and take me to the bay, oh rainbow shower...
just flower on me, flower on me..
Hey rainbow shower, drench me with colors
cozy blues green gold and yellows,
sparkle the light with shades bright
I m crazy after you, my rainbow shower...
Hey rainbow shower, rainbow shower
Can you dance wid me, yaa dance wid me
Play the tunes of the skies, big grey blues n wise
oh rainbow shower, my rainbow shower! !
poem by Sanjay Kamlakar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Final Painting
The white cloud passed over the land
there is sea always round the land
the sky is blue always above the cloud
the cloud in the blue continues to move
- nothing is limited by the canvas or frame -
the white cloud can be pictured like any
other clouds or like a fist of wool
or a white fur rose
The white cloud passes a shadow across
the landscape and so there is a passing greyness
The grey and the white both envelop
the watcher until he too is drawn into the picture
It is all a journey from a room through a door
down stairs and out into the street
The cloud could possess the house
The watchers have a mutual confidence
with the approaching string of white clouds
It is beyond spoken words what they are
silently mouthing to the sky
There was no mystery in this - only the firm
outline of people in overcoats on a hillside
and the line of clouds above them
The sky is blue The cloud white with touches
of grey - the rest - the landscape below -
can be left to the imagination
The whole painting quietly dissolved itself
into its surrounding clouds
poem by Lee Harwood
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Thorn & A Wlid Rose
By d. toler, t. colton & b. waibel
He came from the streets, she came from the mountains
A faded star and an angel without wings,
Their passions flowed like a deep running river
They had nothing left to lose and everything to gain and he said
Lets make a garden said the thorn to the wild rose,
Plant some seeds deep in the ground,
Lets make a garden said the thorn to the wild rose,
Strong enough to hold us down
Seasons will change, well last forever well see the snow and the
Falling of the leaves
High on the hill with the sky all around us, well watch it grow
From two wild seeds
Lets make a garden said the thorn to the wild rose,
Plant some seeds deep in the ground,
Lets make a garden said the thorn to the wild rose,
Where its springtime all around
Solo
He came from the streets, she came from the mountains
A faded star and an angel without wings,
Their passions flowed like a deep running river
They had nothing left to lose and everything to gain and he said
Lets make a garden said the thorn to the wild rose,
Plant some seeds deep in the ground,
Lets make a garden said the thorn to the wild rose,
Where its springtime all around
Lets make a garden said the thorn to the wild rose,
Plant some seeds deep in the ground,
Lets make a garden said the thorn to the wild rose,
Where its springtime all around
song performed by by Allman Brothers Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
A Blue Rose!
Genetically modified flower blue rose is unique!
Rose colour gives hope of future by its very look;
Red rose is unique among flowers as it is queen
In the flower world nobody can deny having it!
Yellow rose shines bright in the long green garden
Full of many trees and other flower plants broad!
Pink rose flowers are many everywhere as border
Mainly in the botanical garden of hill stations here!
Blue rose, a new addition in the flower kingdom
Among lavender, blue bells and rare kurinjis of
Light blue, violet and ink blue colours everywhere
Stands majestic and having healing touch to all!
Rose is rose by whatever name it is called and also
Rose is rose by whatever colour it is produced ever!
poem by Ramesh T A
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Fairy Tale
All things grew upwards, foul and fair:
The great trees fought and beat the air
With monstrous wings that would have flown;
But the old earth clung to her own,
Holding them back from heavenly wars,
Though every flower sprang at the stars.
But he broke free: while all things ceased,
Some hour increasing, he increased.
The town beneath him seemed a map,
Above the church he cocked his cap,
Above the cross his feather flew
Above the birds and still he grew.
The trees turned grass; the clouds were riven;
His feet were mountains lost in heaven;
Through strange new skies he rose alone,
The earth fell from him like a stone,
And his own limbs beneath him far
Seemed tapering down to touch a star.
He reared his head, shaggy and grim,
Staring among the cherubim;
The seven celestial floors he rent,
One crystal dome still o'er him bent:
Above his head, more clear than hope,
All heaven was a microscope.
poem by G.K. Chesterton from The Wild Knight and Other Poems (1900)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy!
The Parting Hour
Not yet, dear love, not yet: the sun is high;
You said last night, 'At sunset I will go.'
Come to the garden, where when blossoms die
No word is spoken; it is better so:
Ah! bitter word 'Farewell.'
Hark! how the birds sing sunny songs of spring!
Soon they will build, and work will silence them;
So we grow less light-hearted as years bring
Life's grave responsibilities - and then
The bitter word 'Farewell.'
The violets fret to fragrance 'neath your feet,
Heaven's gold sunlight dreams aslant your hair:
No flower for me! your mouth is far more sweet.
O, let my lips forget, while lingering there,
Love's bitter word 'Farewell.'
Sunset already! have we sat so long?
The parting hour, and so much left unsaid!
The garden has grown silent - void of song,
Our sorrow shakes us with a sudden dread!
Ah! bitter word 'Farewell.'
poem by Olive Custance
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I'm Growing Old
I’M growing old — ‘t is surely so;
And yet how short it seems
Since I was but a sportive child,
Enjoying childish dreams!
I cannot see the change that comes
With such an even pace;
I mark not when the wrinkles fall
Upon my fading face.
I know I’m old; and yet my heart
Is just as young and gay
As e’er it was before my locks
Of bright brown turned to gray.
I know these eyes to other eyes
Look not so bright and glad
As once they looked; and yet ‘tis nor
Because my heart’s more sad.
I never watched with purer joy
The floating clouds and glowing skies,
While glistening tears of rapture fill
These old and fading eyes.
And when I mark the cheek, wkere once
The bright rose used to glow,
It grieves me not to see instead
The almond crown my brow.
I’ve seen the flower grow old and pale,
And withered more than I;
I’ve seen it lose its every charm,
Then droop away and die.
And then I’ve seen it rise again,
Bright as the beaming sky,
And young and pure and beautiful—
And felt that so shall I.
Then what if I am growing old?
My heart is changeless still,
And God has given me enough
This loving heart to fill.
I love to see the sun go down,
And lengthening shadows throw
Along the ground, while o’er my head
The clouds in crimson glow.
I see, beyond those gorgeous clouds,
A country bright and fair,
Which needs no sun: God and the Lamb
Its light and beauty are.
I seem to hear the wondrous song
Redeemed sinners sing;
And my heart leaps to join the throng
To praise the Heavenly King.
I seem to see three cherub boys,
As hand in hand they go,
With golden curls and snowy wings,
Whose eyes with rapture glow.
When I was young I called them mine —
Now Heaven’s sweet ones are they;
But I shall claim my own again,
When I am called away.
Perhaps, when heaven’s bright gate I’ve passed,
They’ll know from every other
The one who gave them back to God,
And haste to call me mother.
0! 1 am glad I’m growing old!
For every day I spend
Shall bring me one day nearer that
Bright day that has no end.
poem by Anonymous Americas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
In The Garden
When they came for him in the garden, did they know?
When they came for him in the garden, did they know?
Did they know he was the son of god, did they know that he was lord?
Did they hear when he told peter, peter, put up your sword?
When they came for him in the garden, did they know?
When they came for him in the garden, did they know?
When he spoke to them in the city, did they hear?
When he spoke to them in the city, did they hear?
Nicodemus came at night so he wouldnt be seen by men
Saying, master, tell me why a man must be born again.
When he spoke to them in the city, did they hear?
When he spoke to them in the city, did they hear?
When he healed the blind and crippled, did they see?
When he healed the blind and crippled, did they see?
When he said, pick up your bed and walk, why must you criticize?
Same thing my father do, I can do likewise.
When he healed the blind and crippled, did they see?
When he healed the blind and crippled, did they see?
Did they speak out against him, did they dare?
Did they speak out against him, did they dare?
The multitude wanted to make him king, put a crown upon his head
Why did he slip away to a quiet place instead?
Did they speak out against him, did they dare?
Did they speak out against him, did they dare?
When he rose from the dead, did they believe?
When he rose from the dead, did they believe?
He said, all power is given to me in heaven and on earth.
Did they know right then and there what that power was worth?
When he rose from the dead, did they believe?
When he rose from the dead, did they believe?
When he rose from the dead, did they believe?
When he rose from the dead, did they believe?
He said, all power is given to me in heaven and on earth.
Did they know right then and there what that power was worth?
When he rose from the dead, did they believe?
When he rose from the dead, did they believe?
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Margaret
I KNOW a garden where white lilies grow,
Under the grey sweet-laden apple boughs;
It is a garden where the roses blow,
And honeysuckle covers half the house.
O happy garden, do you keep the vows
Breathed in your quiet ear beneath the rose,
Or do you tell the tale to each soft wind that blows?
Across your grassy paths she used to stray,
She moved among you like a living flower,
Her beauty drank your beauty every day,
Your beauty decked her beauty every hour.
You gave her rose and lily for a dower,
With all sweet flowers and fruits your bosom bore--
She took them all--and now she comes not any more.
O garden, if you breathe such secret things
To the south wind who loves you, tell him this:
To spread the scented softness of his wings,
And seek that other garden where she is,
And bid him bear no blossom and no kiss;
Only, dear garden, tell the wind to say
How grey the world is grown since Margaret went away!
poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
If God Made You
Hey Kid Your time has come to change
Though I need you more than I've needed anyone in any way tonight
Hey Kid I know it won't be long
The Captain's callingcome to see you back where we belong
Something inside me is breaking
Something inside says there's somewhere better than this
Sunset sailing on April skies
Bloodshot fire clouds in her eyes
I can't say what I might believe
But if God made you he's in love with me
Hey KidDo wishes count at all
Can you give me a signgive me anything I won't tell a soul you told
Hey KidWill you hold me when I sleep
Will you find me when the tide decides that I got to leave
Something inside me is breaking
Something inside says there's somewhere better than this
Sunset sailing on April skies
Bloodshot fire clouds in her eyes
I can't say what I might believe
But if God made you he's in love with me
Sunset sailing on April skies
Bloodshot fire clouds in your eyes
I can't say what I might believe
But if God made you he's in love with me
Something inside me is breaking
Something inside says there's somewhere better than this my love
Sunset sailing on April skies
Bloodshot fire clouds in her eyes
I can't say what I might believe
But if God made you he's in love with me
Sunset sailing on April skies
Bloodshot fire clouds in your eyes
I can't say what I might believe
But if God made you he's in love with me
song performed by by Five For Fighting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
My Baby and the Rose
A rose tree grew by the garden wall,
And its highest blossom was just as tall
As my baby's curly head;
A lovely, fragrant, perfect rose,-
But sweeter from head to dimpled toes,
Was the baby I fondly led.
Now summer is over and winter gone,
And the winds of March are whistling on
Where the rose its petals shed;
No trace of rose perfumed and rare,
No baby face as seraph fair,
My baby sweet is dead.
The summer sun will shine again,
And 'neath the pattering, warm June rain,
Again the rose will bloom,
And so beyond these lowering skies
My baby dear, with smiling eyes,
Shall peer through earthly gloom,
And guide me with her angel hand
Through Heaven's gates,-and with me stand
Away from worldly woes,-
Where Heaven's flowers, divinely sweet,
Soften the path for weary feet
With perfume of the rose.
poem by Ida McCormick
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Now that you are away
Now that you are away
days are falling apart
and I feel
like the stripped chestnut tree
that stands skeleton against the sky
and the colours of flowers are trying
to match your eyes
while a drawling sun
at of the beginning of winter
hangs in the sky.
The rest and peace
are suddenly gone
while I walk purposeless
up and down in the garden.
Bougainvilleas pierce me
when I cut the stems
and at places I am scratched
and there are other places
where I bleed
and I wonder what it takes
to let a perfect flower grow,
or do you look past it
while the glare of the sun
almost blinds you
and do not know how lucky you are
when you have all ready got it
and all others fade away in her shade?
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
One Saturday Morning At The Mountain Top Inside The House
it is raining outside
it is the habitualness of the image that flows inside us
green grass and rolling hills and clouds a drifting
the sound of rain like footsteps of children playing under the shower from heaven
i sit upon a chair looking outside
i am not thinking about anything simply watching the rain
the green grass
the trees the sea and the horizon that extends more than what my eyes can see
more than what i can contain
this empty bowl with a wide mouth open
this hollowness that cannot speak because it does not have the exact words
to say
it seems to me that the correct existence that fills this void is nothing
but the silence of the trees, the grass, the hills and the far away seas
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Essence of my Dreams
Losing myself in flight on an early summer's morning-
In flight, unaware of the direction-
Unaware of the time of day, I know that
I don't believe in heaven anymore-
In flight above deep blue mountains-
But not weary of the sun's rays attacking me-
Never touching the sun and
Never finding my rainbow,
A myriad of colors are painting the sky-
Though only inside the world of my imagination.
Losing myself in flight and wondering-
If I will ever find safety and peace of mind here in the sky,
Amongst the scattered clouds that surround me-
I could hide behind a cloud to escape reality-
Reality that has become none but a threat to my existence.
Within the figment of my imagination-
I have wings that carry me high above the mountains,
Above the treetops and the ocean turning green as
Its waves lap against the shore-
A multitude of colors are decorating the land below-
Trees are never green but violet in their hue and
That ocean- green but never blue as are the mountains-
In flight I am losing myself in so many different ways-
Separating myself from the world into which I was born-
My mind is creating visions of far away places and
Inside the fortress of my mind, God has given me wings to fly with,
Although I do not believe in heaven-
Within moments I find myself lying upon the ground-
The sky, cloud covered as rain begins to pour down upon me-
I am a lost, lone, and confused spirit-
Threatened by sounds of cars speeding up and down the road behind me-
And people shouting while thunder claps and lightening strikes.
Voices inside of mind are commanding me
To lift my wings and take flight once again-
However I am trapped, being unable to fly, my wings having been phantasmal-
Though inside my dreams I can swim the ocean, searching for safety and familiarity-
Perhaps I shall find myself an island amongst the sea-
But alas only in my dreams-
And perhaps the rain shall stop falling and a rainbow shall rise above the mountains-
Inside the world of my thoughts I shall paint the sky blue and cloudless,
Lift my wings and soar back into the sky and look down-
Down at this world where I have always wished to escape from-
Happiness shall be found within the world of my imagination-
Violet hued trees - their branches swaying in the wind
May someday give me shade as I close my eyes and dream,
Then I shall burst into song, in chorus with the voices inside my mind-
I have peace of mind now knowing I can be anyplace I can fathom-
Because I am a person who though never believed in heaven-
Strongly believes in the essence of my dreams…
poem by Claudia Krizay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Growth of a Rose
A rose has been planted in it's place
Waiting to begin it's life as a beautiful flower
A shower of rain falls on the rose
Awakening the rose from it's long slumber
Beneath the ground where this flower is planted
It's roots have started to grow out from the rain
Soon the rain has stopped and the sun shines
The warmth of the sun's rays help the rose grow
Seeing the bright rays shine from it's source
The rose begins to reach out to the sky
Finally escaping the cold dark place the flower was in
It has at last faced the bright world for the first time
Revealing it's beauty and experiencing the feeling of pure happiness
poem by Sarah Bruun
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Song V
THE sunshine of your presence lies
On the glad garden of my heart
And bids the leaves of silence part
To show the flowers to your dear eyes,
And flower on flower blooms there and dies
And still new buds awakened spring,
For sunshine makes the garden wise,
To know the time for blossoming.
Night is no time for blossoming,
Your garden then dreams otherwise,
Of vanished Summer, vanished Spring,
And how the dearest flower first dies.
Yet from your ministering eyes
Though night hath drawn me far apart
On the still garden of my heart
The moonlight of your memory lies.
poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!