Many a genius has been slow of growth. Oaks that flourish for a thousand years do not spring up into beauty like a reed.
quote by George Henry Lewes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Beauties Nucleus, Gloria
.
My darling,
If I was a painter
a master of repute,
A genius of deft strokes
to sketch the charcoal base.
One thousand years of learning
need I,
indeed,
to reproduce the beauty
that dwells within your soul,
and reflects upon your face.
poem by Ken e Hall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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JESUS CHRIST and The Painter
Dear Jesus,
.
If I was a painter a master of repute
A genius of the deft stroke,
To sketch the charcoal base
A thousand years of learning need I indeed
To reproduce the beauty
that dwells within your soul and
Reflects upon your face.
poem by Ken e Hall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Beauty Is Upon You
Beauty is upon you like the rose without a thorn.
Beauty is upon you like the dew on grass each morn.
Beauty is upon you like the sapphire shining sea.
Beauty is upon you like the apple on the tree.
Beauty is upon you like the sunshine on the Earth.
Beauty is upon you like the day God granted birth.
Beauty is upon you like the wings on butterflies.
Beauty is upon you like the grace that God supplies.
Beauty is upon you like the diamond wedding ring.
Beauty is upon you like the season known as Spring.
Beauty is upon you like the little lambs that play.
Beauty is upon you like the snow on Christmas Day.
Beauty is upon you like the rainbows up above.
Beauty is upon you like the sentimental dove.
Beauty is upon you like the young bird new to flight.
Beauty is upon you like the shooting stars each night.
Beauty is upon you like the dolphins as they leap.
Beauty is upon you like the peace that comes with sleep.
Beauty is upon you like ten thousand whispering sighs.
Beauty is upon you like true love that never dies...
Beauty is upon you like true love that never dies...
Beauty is upon you like true love that never dies...
poem by Denis Martindale
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Nature Of Things Fascinate Me
Nature of things fascinate me
I just think and move on
Stopping shall be a grave mistake
I walk along dusty dreamy ways
Pale...kissing...faint sunshine
Oaks amidst reed
Flowery beds
Sweet smelling spring
Trespassed beauty without a glance
Heartless not I am
Nor blind of sense or taste
Nor Lack I words of praise
That shall fill your heart with delight
Bliss ever
Master's creation...
Not that amuses me not...
Not that I love him ever more
Not that visage of miracle of thy creation has worn a thick veil before me
But life calls
To stay shall be, too grave a mistake...
poem by Lama Abbas
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Love Her Beauty
How I love her beauty,
When I knew of such existence,
I searched for ever for her beauty,
Her existence lead me to another
World, another life, when I look up
At the stars the spirit of Picasso
Creates the vision of her beauty
Among the stars, I yearn to look
Upon her beauty for a blink of an
Eye is Hundreds of years, eternity
Between heart beats, a thousand
Sunsets and a thousand full moons
Pass and my search is forever.
poem by Rocky Romance
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Beauty Is Upon You
Beauty is upon you like the rose without a thorn.
Beauty is upon you like the dew on grass each morn.
Beauty is upon you like the sapphire shining sea.
Beauty is upon you like the apple on the tree.
Beauty is upon you like the sunshine on the Earth.
Beauty is upon you like the day God granted birth.
Beauty is upon you like the wings on butterflies.
Beauty is upon you like the grace that God supplies.
Beauty is upon you like the diamond wedding ring.
Beauty is upon you like the season known as Spring.
Beauty is upon you like the little lambs that play.
Beauty is upon you like the snow on Christmas Day.
Beauty is upon you like the rainbows up above.
Beauty is upon you like the sentimental dove.
Beauty is upon you like the young bird new to flight.
Beauty is upon you like the shooting stars each night.
Beauty is upon you like the dolphins as they leap.
Beauty is upon you like the peace that comes with sleep.
Beauty is upon you like ten thousand whispering sighs.
Beauty is upon you like true love that never dies...
Beauty is upon you like true love that never dies...
Beauty is upon you like true love that never dies...
Denis Martindale, copyright, August 2001.
poem by Denis Martindale
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Genius is not a possession of the limited few, but exists in some degree in everyone. Where there is natural growth, a full and free play of faculties, genius will manifest itself.
quote by Robert Henri
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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O Do Not Forsake Me (Demo)
O, do not forsake me, my indolent friends
O, do not forsake me for you know I must spend
All my darkest hours talking like this
For I am one thousand years old
One thousand years old
Sure you think that's old
ONe thousand years old, but what do you know?
In my darkest hour I'm talking like this
For I am one thousand years old
Oh, some have forgotten the flower of speech
And walks through the garden where
I go to defent misbegotten notions while talking like this
For I am one thousand years old
One thousand years old
Sure, I'd say that's old
ONe thousand years old, but what do I know?
In your darkest hour, my indolent friends, we'll be one thousand years old
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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O, Do Not Forsake Me
O, do not forsake me, my indolent friends
O, do not forsake me though you know I must spend
All my darkest hours talking like this
For I am one thousand years old
One thousand years old
Sure, you think thats old
One thousand years old
But what do you know?
In my darkest hour Im talking like this
For I am one thousand years old
Oh, some have forgotten the flower of speech
And walks through the garden where I go to defend
Misbegotten notions while talking like this
For I am one thousand years old
One thousand years old
Sure, Id say thats old
One thousand years old
But what do I know?
In your darkest hour, my indolent friends
Well be one thousand years old
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Muse
In my youth's years, she loved me, I am sure.
The flute of seven pipes she gave in my tenure
And harked to me with smile -- without speed,
Along the ringing holes of the reed,
I got to play with my non-artful fingers
The peaceful songs of Phrygian village singers,
And the important hymns, that gods to mortals bade.
>From morn till night in oaks' silent shade
I diligently harked to the mysterious virgin;
Rewarding me, by chance, for any good decision,
And taking locks aside of the enchanting face,
She sometimes took from me the flute, such commonplace.
The reed became alive in consecrated breathing
And filled the heart with holiness unceasing.
poem by Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin
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When Winter Suddenly Comes
When winter suddenly comes
year upon year I am caught by it,
when there is an end to growth,
when sudden change in age
strip branches, let's them hang lonely,
when winter suddenly comes
and it seems as if all of nature is dying,
when you long back to summer,
when there is an end to growth,
when with the ripe every spring flower wilts
and that an end is coming scares you,
when winter suddenly comes
you are astonished by the yellow-brown creeping death,
when even the bright bird songs wither,
when there is an end to growth,
and subtle even death claims its own property,
after years of decline of a life,
when winter suddenly comes,
when there is an end to growth.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Beauty of Spring
The Beauty of Spring
I am looking out of a glass window.
I see a group of cherry blossom trees in the distance.
Nearby, there is a quaint little house.
This magnificence takes my breathe away.
The Beauty of Spring.
Daffodils are blooming.
Butterflies are fluttering through the air.
Robins are singing there beautiful song.
The world is coming back to life after a long winter.
The Beauty of Spring.
A gentle breeze skims across my face.
I inhale the sweet scent of flowers.
I see a world of gorgeous and vivid colors.
I absolutely love spring.
The Beauty of Spring.
I am Taking in The Beauty of Spring
poem by Bleeding Heart
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A reed before the wind lives on, while mighty oaks do fall.
Love Has Its Seasons
A cool chill sweeps through the air
winter is approaching
soon the grass will have a blanket of white
nights will get longer
then soon it will be over for another year.
Spring will be with us
new growth will spring up from the ground
the days will get warmer
when summer once again appears
spreading its colours everywhere.
Then it is back into autumn once more
and the chilly air that it brings.
Love has its seasons also to share
sometimes it can be frosty
and winter chills fill the air
it can be cold
like the white blanket of snow.
Love can be like spring
imparting new life as it begins to grow.
The glow that if offers
is like the warming summer sun
that blossoms into beauty
before the ravages of autumn come
and the years trickle away.
poem by David Harris
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Nature's Season's
Season's come and season's go,
There are four in each year,
Of our time keeping.
Spring,
Summer,
Autumn,
Winter,
In other parts of the world,
Their season's are called something else,
Each Season is,
Of different type,
Yet,
Two and Two,
To begin and become,
Spring shows the begining,
Of growth and new season,
So for plants,
Vegetation,
Spring Chickens,
Spring Lambs,
The Calflings,
The Fouls,
All come in the Spring,
And flourish in the Summer,
Summer shows bloom,
From the plants to the Fouls,
And all are seen in full bloom,
Even the birds and the bees,
Sing the songs,
Of spring and summer,
With the Sun's rays,
That shows nature,
In full bloom,
By the time,
All is in full bloom,
And what shows and blooms,
Blossoms all summer,
And just when we are relaxed,
And see no clouds in the sky,
The seson changes,
Beginning with,
The fall,
Autumn's,
Season,
Commences to begin,
Where,
All in bloom,
Falls away and decays,
While the rest,
Fly away,
And,
Migrate,
Or,
Hibernate,
And just when,
We have seen it all disappear,
The frost and snow,
Covers all over,
And chills the air,
Where the chilling effect,
Kills off all decay,
And the blue ice time period,
Takes over for a time,
Chilling,
Freeezing,
Keeping everything beneath the earth,
As winter sets itself right in,
And far beneath the froasted earth,
Is all in nature,
Rekindling itself,
To regrowth itself,
And then spring growth,
Again,
Next season,
That starts the circle of life,
2 x 2 = 4,
The four seasons,
Of,
Our circle of life,
Spring,
Summer,
Autumn,
Winter,
The four seasons,
Of ours,
That is 2 x 2,
Spring and Summer,
Then,
Autumn and Winter,
That makes it known,
As 4 seasons,
To us all.
poem by Ellen Ni Bheachain
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Anniversary Poem to My Darling Gloria
The years fly our love grows stronger
Time bonds our life truly fonder
Weekday Sunday every day
Decades prove love will stay,
These words I say I know are true
Simply fact that ‘I love you'
.
.
NB.As teenagers 19 and 16 we wed
57 years ago July 1955. I wrote a poem
‘Gloria' {Published and sits on the
First page of an anthology of 200 poems]
Beauties Nucleus Gloria.
My darling,
If I was a painter
a master of repute,
A genius of deft strokes
to sketch the charcoal base.
One thousand years of learning
need I,
indeed,
to reproduce the beauty
that dwells within your soul,
and reflects upon your face.
poem by Ken e Hall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
If beauty was the rain
If beauty was the rain
I would close my eyes and drain
And listen to its reframe
That drips from the roof
If beauty was the sun
Then roast me till I’m done
And the growth that I has won
Lies open petal to the morn that break
Its calm to what may come.
If beauty was the moon
I would sing it a tune of full bloom
That pin point the dark sky
If beauty was a tree
Then cover me in leaves
Fall from my eyes in riot colors
Painted by what bark that shed
Its growth
poem by David E. Patton
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Thousand Human Eyes
Thousand human eyes
Cannot grasp nature’s beauty
In lifetime to praise
Thousand human eyes
Cannot see nature in full
As I always flies
Thousand human eyes
Falls short in their description
Of Sunset sunrise
Thousand human eyes
Cannot apprehend nature
Beneath the blue skies
Thousand human eyes
Fails to see nature’s beauty
To fully appraise
Thousand human eyes
Cannot fully understand
Nature to surmise
Thousand human eyes
Are blessed to see the nature
In its complete guise
Thousand human eyes
Sees the beauty of nature
With awe and oyez
Thousand human eyes
Is not capable to see
Nature’s burning eyes
poem by Mittur Ramprasad
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The First Swallow
The gorse is yellow on the heath,
The banks with speedwell flowers are gay,
The oaks are budding, and, beneath,
The hawthorn soon will bear the wreath,
The silver wreath, of May.
The welcome guest of settled Spring,
The swallow, too, has come at last;
Just at sunset, when thrushes sing,
I saw her dash with rapid wing,
And hailed her as she passed.
Come, summer visitant, attach
To my reed roof your nest of clay,
And let my ear your music catch,
Low twittering underneath the thatch
At the gray dawn of day.
poem by Charlotte Smith
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Spring Is In The Air
You can tell that spring is in the air
with scent of blossoms
fragmenting the air.
Flowers begin to show their finery
and more perfume fills the air.
Spring is just a wonderful time
with new growth and new life
abundant everywhere.
A time when you feel so alive.
You could live a hundred years
and enjoy everyday of it.
7 May 2008
poem by David Harris
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