People are like grass in the field: some blossom, some wither.
Related quotes
Through the field I See
A field of green grass awaits me.
I have been on this grass before and it brought suffering and
anguish.
I wait for the pure colors of pink and red to cover all of the
envious grass.
In this field of colors I have not experienced.
Many a people, hand in hand, take this path of red and pink.
Through many a people take the field of grass choosing the
poison of which they will drink.
poem by Stephen Howard
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Soccer
Soccer
Have you ever been on a soccer field?
Well if you haven't it’s the m amazing thing
It’s like being in heaven but on grass
When the grass is just cut and the potato bugs are jumping in the air it gives you energy to have fun
And if you have been on a field then you know how the freshly cut grass
stings your nose and enlightens your heart to give you extra strength to
play soccer harder than you ever have in your life. That is what it’s like being on a soccer field!
By: Isaiah Bess
poem by Isaiah Bess
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Love and Flowers
Love is like flowers,
that bud, blossom, bloom,
and sadly sometimes
fades and die.
Like flowers of the seasons,
that brings colours to our world.
Love has the same effect,
bringing sunshine o our lives.
Like the flowers that wither and die.
Love can sometimes wither
eventually to fade away,
but not always.
10 August 2007
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
At The Un-National Monument Along The Canadian Border
This is the field where the battle did not happen,
where the unknown soldier did not die.
This is the field where grass joined hands,
where no monument stands,
and the only heroic thing is the sky.
Birds fly here without any sound,
unfolding their wings across the open.
No people killed – or were killed – on this ground
hallowed by neglect and an air so tame
that people celebrate it by forgetting its name.
poem by William Stafford
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Grass
Grass, grass up to my knees!
Grow up to the sky
So that there won't seem to be
Any you or I
So that I will turn all green
And blossom to my bones,
So that my words won't come between
Your freshness and my own.
So that for the two of us
There will be one name:
Either for both of us - grass,
Or both both of us - tuwim.
poem by Julian Tuwim
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Wither, Im A Flower
Whether, I'm a lover
Wither, I'm a flower
Whether, I'm a lover
Wither, I'm a flower
So city is my sister
And country is your brother
Learn to lose your battles
Cryin' on a shoulder
Whether, I'm a lover
Wither, I'm a flower
Whether, I'm a lover
Wither, I'm a flower
Whether, I'm a lover
Wither, I'm a flower
Whether, I'm a lover
Wither, I'm a flower
Whether, I'm a lover
Wither, I'm a flower
Whether, I'm a lover
Wither, I'm a flower
song performed by by Whiskeytown
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Cherry Blossom Girl
I don't want to be shy
Can't stand it anymore
I just want to say 'Hi'
To the one I love
Cherry blossom girl
I feel sick all day long
From not being with you
I just want to go out
Ever night for a while
Cherry blossom girl
Tell me why can't it be true
I never talk to you
People say that I should
I can pray everyday
For the moment to come
Cherry blossom girl
I just want to be sure
When I will come to you
When the time will be gone
You will be by my side
Cherry Blossom Girl
Tell me why can't it be true
I'll never love again
Can I say that to you
Will you run away
If I try to be true
Cherry blossom girl
Cherry blossom girl
I'll always be there for you
That means no time to waste
Whenever there's a chance
Cherry blossom girl
Tell me why can't it be true
song performed by by Air
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Queen Anne's Lace
Her body is not so white as
anemone petals nor so smooth--nor
so remote a thing. It is a field
of the wild carrot taking
thefield by force; the grass
does not raise above it.
Here is no question of whiteness,
white as can be, with a purple mole
at the center of each flower.
Each flower is a hand's span
of her whiteness. Wherever
his hand has lain there is
a tiny purple blossom under his touch
to which the fibres of her being
stem one by one, each to its end,
until the whole field is a
white desire, empty, a single stem,
a cluster, flower by flower,
a pious wish to whiteness gone over--
or nothing.
poem by William Carlos Williams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Ode To The Cherry Blossom
I have grown up with this tree,
as my father had grown with it,
and his father before him.
The cherry blossom tree where I was first exposed to the beauty of nature,
where my baby seat was set upon the picnic blanket in the grass,
and I could watch the petals fall and dance around me and my family.
and they would land in my seat,
and I would play with them.
The cherry blossom tree,
with its long branches,
where I first learned to climb,
and where I got my first broken bone,
after I slipped while pretending to be a monkey.
The cherry blossom tree,
where we had our first play date together.
We ran around and played two person tag,
and two person hide and seek,
and two person leap frog.
The cherry blossom tree,
where we had our first date,
where I picked a blossom and put it in your hair,
and called you my hime,
my princess.
The cherry blossom tree,
where we took shelter from the pouring rain,
and I gave you my jacket to put over your head,
and we ran home to take a bath in our clothes,
Because they couldn’t have gotten wetter anyway.
The cherry blossom tree,
under which we said our vows,
and got married,
and you cried,
and said you felt beautiful,
and I kissed you,
and said you looked beautiful,
and we ran through the blossom petals.
The cherry blossom tree,
where we took our two daughters,
and watched them pick flowers,
and give them to you.
The cherry blossom tree,
where our daughters took their loves,
and probably got caught in the rain,
just as we did.
The cherry blossom tree,
which we would watch from the near by bench,
watch children who were not ours play there,
watch couples who were not us date there.
The cherry blossom tree,
where I go to remember you,
where I sometimes cry for you,
where our daughters cry for you.
I grew up with that cherry blossom tree,
and now as I wait to rejoin you,
my love,
I watch others grow with it too.
poem by Evan Puglisi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Poverty Grass
Wild horses we
Pricked at the wind,
Never to know, alas;
That all the lord of our fortunes bought
For us
Was poverty grass.
Poverty grass
The paupered seed
So sickly poor, alas;
The souls of the great untamed grow weak
Despair
On poverty grass.
And you, my friend,
Grew sick awhile,
And cried and cried, alas;
While I grew fat on a flowering weed
Called pride
And poverty grass.
And when you left
The field to me
I almost died, alas;
For I was left in a fallow field
Piled high
In poverty grass.
Wild horses we
Pricked at the wind,
Never to know, alas;
That all the lord of our fortunes bought
For us
Was poverty grass.
24 January 1980
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Ay Me, Ay Me, I Sigh the Scythe A-field
Ay me, ay me, I sigh to see the scythe a-field;
Down goeth the grass, soon wrought to wither'd hay:
Ay me, alas! ay me, alas, that beauty needs must yield,
And princes pass, as grass doth fade away.
Ay me, ay me, that life can not have lasting leave,
Nor gold take hold of everlasting joy:
Ay me, alas! ay me, alas, that time hath talents to receive,
And yet no time can make a suer stay.
Ay me, ay me, that wit can not have wished choice,
Nor wish can win that will desires to see:
Ay me, alas! ay me, alas, that mirth can promise no rejoice,
Nor study tell what afterward shall be.
Ay me, ay me, that no sure staff is given to age,
Nor age can give sure wit that youth will take:
Ay me, alas! ay me, alas, that no counsel wise and sage
Will shun the show that all doth mar and make.
Ay me, ay me, come, Time, shear on and shake thy hay,
It is no boot to balk thy bitter blows:
Ay me, alas! ay me, alas, come, Time, take everything away,
For all is thine, be it good or bad, that grows.
poem by Anonymous Americas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Exeunt
Piecemeal the summer dies;
At the field's edge a daisy lives alone;
A last shawl of burning lies
On a gray field-stone.
All cries are thin and terse;
The field has droned the summer's final mass;
A cricket like a dwindled hearse
Crawls from the dry grass.
poem by Richard Wilbur
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Desire makes everything blossom possession makes everything wither and fade.
quote by Marcel Proust
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Outcry
Mountains stand straight against the barren sky
And it looks like a pastel drawing.
Where is that bird's song going?
Butterflies could see only in the season
And the flowers wither after giving their fragrance.
Helpless man like a foot-ruler measures the invisible destiny
When the death smiles behind.
Sun and Moon never try to live together
And he who writes and erase
Still the life is a mistake?
*Quotation
And the days are not full enough
And the nights are not full enough
And life slips by like a field mouse
Not shaking the grass
[Ezra.Pound]
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Desire makes everything blossom; possession makes everything wither and fade.
Marcel Proust in Les Plaisirs et les Jours (1896)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Blossom Friend
Black days of winter all were through
The blossoms came and they brought you
Clouds left the sky
And I knew the reason why
They made way for you and the blossom.
The seasons cycle turned again
An april shower now and then
Trees came alive
And the bees left their hive
They came out to see you and the blossom.
People were laughing, smiling with the sun
They knew that summer had begun.
The nights grew warm, the days grew long
Spring turned to summer and was gone
It seemed so fine
All the cider and the wine
But I knew youd go with the blossom.
When spring returns Ill look again
To find another blossom friend
Until I do
Find something new
Ill just think of you and the blossom.
song performed by by Nick Drake
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Love Field
You lie so unfolded
In a love field
With your contempt for any modesty
In a love field
In a love field
In a love field
You yield with your lips still sealed
In a love field
Lost in a sea of imaginary women
Everything youd want
From the dawn to the dimming
Breath comes sharp and heart beats faster
In a love field
Cold ground for a pillow
Under a blanket of stars
In a love field
In a love field
In a love field
Headlights that startled
This embrace of hours
In a love field
In a crooked house
Where things can be arranged
You think youre different from the rest
But you dont see how youve changed
Under an archway
On a road of white linen
In a love field
Feel the anxious rhythm of a functional stranger
In a love field
In a love field
In a love field
Shes so tense but its never mentioned
In a love field
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
I Be Or Don't Be (A Song)
I be or don’t be
Would be spreading whiff
As a blossom, As a bud
In the orchard of love
I be or don‘t be
Whatever the weather
I always will be there
To keep the orchard fresh
And in colour of desire
Will be watering it ever
As a blossom as a bud
The orchard of love
I be or don’t be
I will unfurl my shirt
And sway in the breeze
Will glow like flower
On the blossom trees
Would spread fragrance
As a blossom as a bud
In the garden of love
I be or don’t be
When I won’t be there
Her eyes with tears
Would be finding me
She would stop in reverie
Where I will meet her
As a blossom, as a bud
In the orchard of love
I be or don’t be
poem by S.D. Tiwari
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I've seen people with a tremendous amount of educational background in the field not turn out to be terribly good actors, and I've seen people with no education in the field turn out to be people that I admire quite a bit.
quote by Ron Silver
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy!
The Glories of our Blood and State
The glories of our blood and state
Are shadows, not substantial things;
There is no armour against fate;
Death lays his icy hand on kings.
Sceptre and crown
Must tumble down,
And in the dust be equal made
With the poor crooked scythe and spade.
Some men with swords may reap the field,
And plant fresh laurels where they kill;
But their strong nerves at last must yield,
They tame but one another still.
Early or late,
They stoop to fate,
And must give up their murmuring breath,
When they, pale captives, creep to death.
The garlands wither on your brow,
Then boast no more your mighty deeds;
Upon death's purple altar now,
See where the victor-victim bleeds.
Your heads must come
To the cold tomb;
Only the actions of the just
Smell sweet and blossom in their dust.
poem by James Shirley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!