The flowers in your garden don't smell as sweet as those in the wild, but they last much longer.
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Carnations in the garden
There are carnations in the garden
in colours of ruby red,
pure white and blossom pink
and some pink with deep purple inside
and others purple-blue.
I smell the sweet fresh flowers
and look at colours
hue as if by magic
into each other.
Some grow in flowering pots,
some are planted in flowerbeds,
others even in the rock garden
and the flowers at places are mixed
to catch the eye
and everywhere there’s care
and a lot of love
that went into the tending of it.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Spring
See how new green shoots
and branches and leaves
and flowers appear
and the green grass
rises everywhere,
the gods had set a part
of Eden here.
Hear the birds
sing and cheer
and see them fly past
and follow the white-hot sun
while the rays comes to stay
for a longer time.
Smell the first rain
and wild flowers
in the fields
and get thrilled
by the sweet scent
that every flower brings
Abide with me
as the trees dress fit
for a royal wedding
and new life
appears from where it hides
and realise that Spring
is a living thing.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Think of me
Think of me
while the horizon glows red
at dusk,
that folds like a translucent cloak
around the earth
where on the porch
you watch the wild doves
and people
passing in the street
and the church bell
counts the evening hour in the distance
and the sweet taste of the tea
disappear with satisfaction into you
and the night flowers
open their cups.
Think of me
while nights draws out long
and the smell of jasmine
comes sweet through the window
soaking in from the garden
and you awake
from your dreams at night
and the old black dog
make whimpering sounds in her sleep
because I am the whole time
right here next to you
and want to remember
every moment with you.
poem by Gert Strydom
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When Gardens Begin To Die
When gardens begin to die
In these scorching sun and times
Where shall we go to smell flowers sweet?
When gardens die for a season
I do not see a change, I see only an end.
Some one ordered me to be pessimistic.
A flying bird comes down to my abode
And asks all of a sudden, `How are you friend? `
I tell her a lie, ` I am happy in my garden`.
The clouds have a promise to fulfill
They must break into water drops.
To let our plants live in a garden.
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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In the Garden, With My Father
It is spring.
As in my garden, I stand.
In the garden -
My father is there;
... though long since gone...
He IS there.
I tend to the weeds,
The veggies and flowers...
He is there.
I never understood him
(as I should have, could have) ...
Until now,
Here, in the garden.
Where I, like he, work the soil.
I've come just recently
(these last few years)
To enjoy and love my garden so.
- I am not as surprised afterall, as I would have thought,
To find him here.
Here, in the garden.
He loved his garden very much.......
I - at that early age of restless youth - had no use
For such slow moving things.
But now, I see, and myself move, at a much slower pace.
Therefore, it is him I am here and now able to see,
In the garden.
Watching it all grow, so peacefully.
It is somewhat sad, that now,
When I can no longer tell him,
I understand.
For I have come to find... I love the garden too,
Just as much as he;
And we both always will.
My father - standing in the garden -
I now know.
After all these long years.
And I've missed him so;
But, how wonderful to find,
He IS here...
In the garden, our garden,
Always, with me.
poem by Smoky Hoss
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When a baby comes you can smell two things: the smell of flesh, which smells like chicken soup, and the smell of lilies, the flower of another garden, the spiritual garden.
quote by Carlos Santana
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Love Symphony
Along the garden ways just now
I heard the flowers speak;
The white rose told me of your brow,
The red rose of your cheek;
The lily of your bended head,
The bindweed of your hair:
Each looked its loveliest and said
You were more fair.
I went into the wood anon,
And heard the wild birds sing
How sweet you were; they warbled on,
Piped, trilled the self-same thing.
Thrush, blackbird, linnet, without pause,
The burden did repeat,
And still began again because
You were more sweet.
And then I went down to the sea,
And heard it murmuring too,
Part of an ancient mystery,
All made of me and you.
How many a thousand years ago
I loved, and you were sweet--
Longer I could not stay, and so
I fled back to your feet.
poem by Arthur William Edgar O'Shaughnessy
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A Lemon Sunshine Day
To float among the new summer clouds
and under a new full silver moon I can
see the shadows looking back down at me
to smell the night time fragrance from
the first Honey Suckle trees to bloom
to feel the new summer winds blowing
through my hair, whispering new
summer secrets in my ear.
And on the first new dawn of summer
to smell new smells, and natures old
forgotten familiar ones to stop and
hear a Robins babies peeping from
their nest hidden sunggled among
the Honey Suckle flowers, and branches.
The crickets are performing their first
concert of the summer.
With the smell of fresh summer
dirt comes Gods creatures so
small their emergeing from
cracks and crevasses of the
ground after their winter slumber.
Grandmas tulips are no longer
sleeping, their begining to stretch
looking up to that lemon summer sun,
to warm their new tips that have
started to emerge up through the ground.
Each new summer day some thing
new awakens to show its beauty..
New sounds, forgotten sounds
my garden has slept far to long.
Now the lemon summer sun has
started to do her job winter blankets
are no longer needed the blooms
have yet to be born, their in their
embryo stage.
But it will not be long until Gods
color pallette will explode and
the flowers will stand up and dance
in their dresses of beautiful colors.
The fragrance will fill the garden
all of this under the lemon summer
sun.
And on this the first day of summer.
GAYLE GOFF
JAN 2009
poem by Gayle Anne Goff
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Do Not Go To The Garden Of Flowers
Do not go to the garden of flowers!
Do not go to the garden of flowers!
O Friend! go not there;
In your body is the garden of flowers.
Take your seat on the thousand petals of the lotus,
and there gaze on the Infinite Beauty.
Sweet Reprieve Rose
Oh the smell of the sweet reprieve rose
That was thrown on the battle field for my soul
The inevitable mortal wound waits for me on yonder hill
As the dawn breaks on the time transcribed for me
Oh the smell of the sweet reprieve rose
Oh the smell of the sweet reprieve rose
When he was first enclosed
For three dark days and three lonely nights
Until he returned unto the light
Oh the smell of the sweet reprieve rose
Oh the smell of the sweet reprieve rose
When we are first enclosed
Waiting for his trumpet to blow
And for all of his people to be called home
Oh the smell of the sweet reprieve rose
poem by Brian Kilpatrick
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Ode to Friendship
This is a special ode to friendship
whispers of urgent telegraphic message
running through the membership
dormant friends given the delet passage
lack the ethos of apt consistency
a few real friends are always contributing
their smiles interest the tendency
not shaky, not silent but always inviting
why do you see my COF and whistle
“Boy! Nice pretty chicks you got smiling there
his only chick slept and on a trestle
I smiled at him, “these are real cool friends here
I trim, water them, always nurture
I must only plant a few flowers I well care for
so that their fresh smells give pleasure
he wept “yours smell sweet, mine like camphor
stop crying Boy! Go back to your garden
trim your flowers, reduce their size take just a few
nurture them well your heart must gladden
to see them flourish well and smell sweet in the dew
the lovely flowers in my COF you do envy
I always pray for, care for, feel for, water with love
tender devotion makes the task less heavy
the gentle breeze cools, so is the smiling sun above
poem by Dela Bobobee
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There Is A Secret Garden In My Heart
where i grow
some weeds
and flowers
with colors
and scents
not of your liking
i hide them
there
only for me
to see
and smell
and touch
you do not
know
i am more real
in this garden
my home
away from
you
where i can
be a weed
a grass
and not the
flower
that you always
love
in this garden
where
i am alone
where
i can be myself
away from
the clutches
of your choking
gaze
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sometimes it’s as if my childhood days comes back
Sometimes it’s as if my childhood days
comes back to me unexpectedly
where the sheer beauty of things astounds me,
water that lies glistening in a river
how water reflects my face and in wrinkles disguises it
the smell of wild flowers hanging sweet in the air
and the colour and texture catching me
as if I am walking in an overgrown garden
full of singing birds
where I see clouds spread like flakes
covering the bright blue in little pieces
with spots of blue between the white
and it is as if for short moments I can return
to a place and time
full of joy and jolliness
poem by Gert Strydom
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Surprise, Surprise )
-"there's a break ev'ry time, there"
-"................?.................."
-"no, oh, i thought it was you, sombody was hangin' over, maybe a foot on the pedal or something"
-"................?.................."
-"well, would you do it, jim? eh, i don't know what you do it on.....yeah!"
-".one, one, two, three, four"
Sweet as the smell of success,
Her body's warm and wet.
She gets me thru this god awful loneliness,
A natural high butterfly.
Oh, i, i need. need, need her.
Just like a willow tree,
A breath of spring, you see.
And, oh boy, you don't know what she do to me,
She makes me sweat, forget who i am.
Oh i, i need, need, need her.
Well, i was wond'rin' how long this could go on,
On and on.
'cause i thought i could never be surprised.
But could it be that i bit my own tongue?
Mm-hmm,
It's so hard to swallow when you're wrong.
A bird of paradise,
Sunrise in her eyes.
God only knows such a sweet surprise,
I was blind, she blew my mind,
Think that i, oh, i love, love, love her.
- "stay on your d! - d! - stay there. hey!"
Sweet, sweet, sweet,
Sweet, sweet smell.
Sweet, sweet, sweet
Such sweet, sweet,
Sweet, sweet smell.
- "ok, thank you! stop! let me just check it
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Garden Fair
Flowers are blooming in
my garden fair. Their
sweet perfume fills the
air. My Garden fair is
beautiful to see., with all
its glory surrounding me.
My garden fair is romantic
and bright, and so redeeming
in sunlight where song birds
nestle in the trees, and sing
with each flowing breeze.
My garden fair is a glorious
sight, that I rush to greet
at twilight my garden fair is
most supreme with such lovely
enchanting scenes.
poem by Dr. Janice Marie Murrell
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Flowers or garden
There are beautiful blossoms
In the garden
And the garden looks gorgeous
I often think
Whether it is flowers which make
A garden beautiful or
It is a garden that enhances the beauty of flowers
But it is certain that both are
Incomplete without each other.
poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir
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An Unknown Smell
I was walking down the hill,
I saw a wild bush along the
winding way.
A wonderful bunch of flower
was there, nodding with the wind
and did sway.
An unknown smell of jungle weed
put me in sheer feelings of trance,
and utter dismay.
An irresistible will to pluck
the flowers was telling me to
stand and stay.
But, the smell, the wildness
of the bunch, warned me
to go away.
Still, I stooped and plucked
and took near to my nose,
in mood gay.
Fainted I then fell on path,
as the flowers were venomous,
so to say.
poem by Nilakshi Das
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Country Song
`Lily of the Valley (Convalaria Majalis, fam. Lilliaceae). Grows wild in N. England. Commonly cultivated. Flowers in May. Berries red when ripe. Leaves particularly poisonous because three constituents depress the heart, like Foxglove.'
What are the constituents that depress the heart?
the scent of lilies in dark green silences under trees
milkweed and ragwort and sunshine in hedges
small flowers picked amongst trees when it's raining
A year ago
You planted lilies in the valley of my mind
There were lilies at the bottom of my garden
And ferrys at the bottom of my street
Now
I sit here in sunlight with the smell of wild garlic
Trying to tape record the sound of windflowers and
celandines
Wondering What are the three constituents that depress the heart Without you here in the country?
poem by Adrian Henri
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Motive
The green garden and the blue lover!
The love of your blues over the flowers;
But wash yourself separately for the first time.
Look beyond personality and learn a lot,
For the first time can change many things!
And like your sweet muse in the green garden.
Measure yourself by the things you value in this life,
For there is a difference between abuse and discipline;
And like the motive of your love in this garden.
The right choice is now with your integrity,
So do make sure that he or she is a moral person;
And like the muse of your sweet love in the green garden.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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If I Could Divide the Smell of Flowers
If I could divide the smell of flowers
I’d send some to the falsely charged
Locked in prison cells
Send some to the lonely seniors
Trapped in apartment hells
Send some to the weary miners
Sweating beneath the ground
Send some to the invisible people
Hauling our garbage ‘round
Some answers in life are so easy
Like zero plus zero is none
But how do we divide the smell of flowers
So their fragrance is shared by everyone?
If I could divide the smell of flowers
I’d pass some to the frightened animals
Caged against their wills
Pass some to the dying birds
Choking on oil spills
Pass some to the angry kids
Sniffing up airplane glue
Pass some to the crying widow
Missing the love she knew
Some answers in life are so easy
Like zero plus zero is none
But how do we divide the smell of flowers
So their fragrance is shared by everyone?
If I could divide the smell of flowers
Then you’d always have your share
If I could divide the smell of flowers
There’d be sweetness around you
Everywhere
song performed by by Henry Iglesias, music by Catman Cohen, lyrics by Catman Cohen from How I Want to Live: the Catman Chronicles 2 (2005)
Submitted by anonym
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