I bought the nettle, sowed the nettle, and then the nettle stung me.
Related quotes
It Nods and Curtseys and Recovers
It nods and curtseys and recovers
When the wind blows above,
The nettle on the graves of lovers
That hanged themselves for love.
The nettle nods, the wind blows over,
The man, he does not move,
The lover of the grave, the lover
That hanged himself for love.
poem by Alfred Edward Housman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Falsehood is a nettle that stings those who meddle with it.
Falsehood, like a nettle, stings those who meddle with it.
Better to be a nettle in the side of your friend than his echo.
quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
If you gently touch a nettle it'll sting you for your pains; grasp it like a lad of mettle, an' as soft as silk remains.
Harvest Dreaming
in my muddle-minded daze
a rustic song rising up
tendrilled smoke drifting southward
'Go home, ' spoke the lone nettle
still standing silent, weeping
shady sheaves heavy: waiting;
tomorrows bursting with grain.
`
poem by Frederick Kesner
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Pain Killer
A city dies in me
anacephalic.
A white sheet spreads/
blinding.
You don’t feel the epidural.
Untitled, death walks/
like a whore/
contamination of inbreeding.
Recycled pain
hurts again. You want
to give a stillbirth
over the dense-packed nettle.
First birthday of a dream.
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Pain In Pleasure
A THOUGHT ay like a flower upon mine heart,
And drew around it other thoughts like bees
For multitude and thirst of sweetnesses;
Whereat rejoicing, I desired the art
Of the Greek whistler, who to wharf and mart
Could lure those insect swarms from orange-trees
That I might hive with me such thoughts and please
My soul so, always. foolish counterpart
Of a weak man's vain wishes ! While I spoke,
The thought I called a flower grew nettle-rough
The thoughts, called bees, stung me to festering:
Oh, entertain (cried Reason as she woke)
Your best and gladdest thoughts but long enough,
And they will all prove sad enough to sting !
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Stinging Nettle
The stinging nettle only
Will still be found to stand:
The numberless, the lonely,
The thronger of the land,
The leaf that hurts the hand.
That thrives, come sun, come showers;
Blow east, blow west, it springs;
It peoples towns, and towers
Above the courts of Kings,
And touch it and it stings.
poem by Alfred Edward Housman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
She is very fragile and handle very carefully
Life provokes all the time and the man in netting
That stings when touched like nettle.
He gets a partner for his solitary pilgrimage
And she seems to be tangible or capable to rough weather.
Otherwise the whole mysterious life would be a sore.
She likes a sister to him and sometimes a lover.
She advice as a mother and please strum her soft heart string carefully
Then you hear the melody that tiptoes with you in this tiresome journey.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sans Souci
I cannot tell what this love may be
That cometh to all but not to me.
It cannot be kind as they'd imply,
Or why do these gentle ladies sigh?
It cannot be joy and rapture deep,
Or why do these gentle ladies weep?
It cannot be blissful, as 'tis said,
Or why are their eyes so wondrous red?
If love is a thorn, they show no wit
Who foolishly hug and foster it.
If love is a weed, how simple they
Who gather and gather it, day by day!
If love is a nettle that makes you smart,
Why do you wear it next your heart?
And if it be neither of these, say I,
Why do you sit and sob and sigh?
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Butterfly
Butterfly flitting about beneath my eyes,
you never seem to climb the highest highs.
Your wings seem to gently caress the air
lifting and lowering you wherever you care.
Fluttering here and there above the ground
minding your own business without a sound.
Your composure shows the way that you have fun,
after visiting a flower you rest and bathe in the sun.
You never display signs of urgency or haste
in your search for a nesting place.
Are you seeking somewhere specific to settle
perhaps in a hedgerow or on a stinging nettle?
I’m sure you will find a suitable place soon
to lay your eggs before the rising moon.
poem by Orlando Belo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Hold Back
Hear the voice of experience
A word from the wise
Grab opportunity
While you're alive
'Cos if you follow the crowd
'Cos if you act like a coward
You'll end up yelling out loud
Hold back
You'll regret it someday
Choke on that
Don't let it pass you by
Hold back
You better seize the hour
You look in your history books
You delve in the past
Stalin and Roosevelt
Both took their chances
And George grasped the nettle
It's do or dare
From the banks of the Delaware
Yeah don't hold back
Trust your gut reaction
Be bold
song performed by by Rolling Stones from Dirty Work
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
We are as the dew on a prairie
We are as the dew on a prairie
Flowers amongst limestone graves
Entrenched in living rock
Watered by bird song
Engulfed in nettle stings
We are but charcoal smoke rings
Fasting on a single drawn out breath
Resting on a forward moving breeze
We are a clutch of eggs
Encased in a bough of creeping ivy
Squawking franticly upwards
Up at the midnight's sun
We are the covenant…?
The rain storm afore the rainbow
Slayed by the swords of angels
We are the dewdrops on the prairie
Flowering; amidst the entire universe.
poem by Mark Heathcote
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Barefoot Boy
A barefoot boy! I mark him at his play --
For May is here once more, and so is he, --
His dusty trousers, rolled half to the knee,
And his bare ankles grimy, too, as they:
Cross-hatchings of the nettle, in array
Of feverish stripes, hint vividly to me
Of woody pathways winding endlessly
Along the creek, where even yesterday
He plunged his shrinking body -- gasped and shook --
Yet called the water 'warm,' with never lack
Of joy. And so, half enviously I look
Upon this graceless barefoot and his track, --
His toe stubbed -- ay, his big toe-nail knocked back
Like unto the clasp of an old pocketbook.
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Once they spall-sparkled like foxglove!
The downbeat, downtrodden, joys of love.
Once they spall-sparkled like foxglove!
But now deflate like a beach ball…
Pig’s bladder, words choke, a hairball.
And cough out each forgotten phrase!
Utterances of the bee, still purveys.
But—isn’t partial to a petal…
Doesn’t wish, to defile; not a bud.
And the rose, herself is quite, bruised.
Froze, wounded, and suffused:
Her pink-briar-arms, no-longer-cling…
The white-picket-fence where-once did sing.
Inside the fountains cave all they grasp
Steadfast nettle stinging, an asp…?
O’ they hear torrent; waters past…
In their drowning, they cut the mainmast.
But remain, anchored to the last.
For they’ve made a sticky honey-caste!
poem by Mark Heathcote
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sonnet-Truth Remains The Same
Which flow'r perfumed not the fingers that had crushed?
Which hungry Lion spares the beast thats near?
Which nettle failed to sting the hand that touched?
Which darkness failed to fill a child with fear?
Which soil did yield without it being tilled?
Which tornado leaves roof intact thats tiled?
Which fall from height maimed not the man it felled?
Which mother sane had failed to nurse her child?
All things on earth behave in basic ways;
The contrary of things is rather rare;
Despite this knowledge man spents troubled days;
Behave one must in ways prudent and fair.
Let man do things God-guided and be wise;
For Truth is always Truth, never a dice.
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!