Gardeners instinctively know that flowers and plants are a continuum and that the wheel of garden history will always be coming full circle.
quote by Francis Cabot Lowell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Tickets
The ticket was sold, in the soil of waters and roots,
Profiting from the sale of plants, a real awakening.
The gardeners travelled to a gathering so great,
Locomotion no problem, making progress against the weeds.
What are these plants? Plants give soil a trouble,
When do flowers reckon their demise?
The tickets have cancelled the talk of the nation,
Then the stages ended for the whole conversation.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Full Circle
All Ive ever touched or said to them
Becomes a rehearsal for you, just practicing,
Too many magic moments to be coincidence
It all comes full circle
I knew someone who knew you
And he introduced me to you
Your ex-girlfriend had a boyfriend
Who kissed my girlfriend
Who did adrian
The world keeps on getting smaller and smaller
And everything comes back full circle, full circle
Six degrees of separation
We all know someone else
It all comes full circle
And you come from england
My ex-boyfriend, he is indian
British passport, were all connected
And everyone else is affected
The world keeps on getting smaller and smaller
And everything comes back full circle, full circle
Six degrees of separation
We all know someone else
It all comes full circle
It all comes full circle
The world keeps on getting smaller and smaller
And everything comes back full circle, full circle
Six degrees of separation
We all know someone else
It all comes full circle
The world keeps on getting smaller and smaller
And everything comes back full circle, full circle
Six degrees of separation
We all know someone else
It all comes full circle
song performed by by No Doubt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Flowers Bloom Like People
The flowers in the garden strike blue,
Just like lovely you.
These flowers at the forefront speak loud,
Opening the doors to what is allowed.
Never do we release so many scents
As this day. This day, we march like gents.
Just like roses we announce,
We sometimes ponder and pounce.
In effect we denounce our leaders,
Leading the committee of readers.
These are the authority of the dance
Of flowers, in our garden of chance.
From this garden I walk into fields,
Then streets are with us, no more hayfields.
The green garden was behind now and then,
With innocence at its side, compared again.
A ghostly swamp is not our task,
Merely we dine in pleasure and mask.
For we arrive in the city streets,
Walking is an objective so much it cheats.
We are some, they are many,
This conundrum augments the penny,
For if they are greater than us,
We shall be greater with words to discuss.
Flowers, we claim, are at our heads,
They do swear to keep beds;
Our heads also keep them, one after the other,
The rooms to occupy are more than our mother.
The soil is so endangered by us,
Flowers keep great ideas in dirtiness.
The gardeners work forever this way,
Shaking the soil with their day.
May our sleeping hours prove to be higher
Than all of nature’s, still we can tire.
Flower the world with our march,
The march continues to arch.
May fatigue be the enemy of our protest,
This riot we create, and then be assessed.
What we are is not your concern,
The bushes and plants have a turn.
Their laziness requires religious thought,
We need to think better than today as sought.
Let the population know what we have forsaken,
The streets should be empty and obedient with abortion.
The walkers are right, just totally right,
An abduction causes us a different light.
They take away some flowers from the garden,
The garden of Us, we are the garden to pardon.
May we string new words,
Extract blessing from our birds.
The garden is polite like a stage,
Acting will never grow or enrage.
The nature of substances is grand,
Like that of this very land.
Lazy flowers shout too hard,
That is why they droop and be charred.
They wilt and slowly drop,
Like us as we come to the top.
Life is about the riots of flowers,
We marched up and down, with powers.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Chelsea Flower Show
Come and see the flowers in bloom,
Heavenly scents to fill a room,
Elaborate blossoms, in every hue,
Looking up, the sun to view,
Summer's here, and what a show,
Endless varieties for you to grow,
All kinds of plants for sun and shade,
Ferns and foliage, beautifully displayed,
Lavish garden designs, which are seen by the Queen,
On the BBC Channels you can view the whole scene,
Watching the gardeners, their fingers crossed,
Each one hoping, to get a certificate embossed,
Royal Horticultural Society, what a thrill,
Such excitement, hoping that all their skill,
Happens to get noticed by the Judges, who are,
Over the moon, and think they're a star,
Whatever the outcome, they all are, by far!
poem by Ernestine Northover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Majestic Tree
They bow to the winds that pass
The beautiful majestic trees,
With arms up toward the skies
They laugh in the summer breeze.
They provide shade and shelter for the bee,
He plants history, who plants a tree.
They provide lumber for houses, and barns
For a roof to cover our heads,
Lumber for aeroplanes, ships and cars
And for caskets, to bury our dead.
This is only a few uses you see
He plants history, who plants a tree.
They provide rest for the weary man
Food and protection, for many wild things,
Home and sanctuary, for millions of birds
And rock their babies to sleep in swings.
Their magestic grace so wild and free
He plants history, who plants a tree.
poem by Della Hodgson James
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Petunia The Gardeners Daughter
(words & music by sid tepper - roy bennett)
Ive gotta gal, oh what a pal
The apple of my eye
With something rare, a peach of a pear
But her dad wont let us meet and I could die
I love petunia the gardeners daughter
Oooh how that gal can kiss
Her eyes are blue as bluebells
Each cheek a rose to see
How I dance when she plants her two lips on me
Im as daffy as a daffodil
I long to kiss her all the time
Tonight Ill steal into her garden
And make petunias two lips mine
(Ive got a beau, I love him so
The apple of my eye
With something rare, a peach of a pear
But my dad wont let us meet and I could die)
And we could die
I love petunia the gardeners daughter
Oooh how that gal can kiss
(my eyes are blue as bluebells
Each cheek a rose to see)
How I dance when she plants her two lips on me
(hes as daffy as a daffodil
He loves to kiss me all the time)
Tonight Ill steal into her garden
And make petunias two lips mine
She makes other girls look just like weeds
(Im gonna be his clinging vine)
Tonight Ill steal into her garden
And make petunias two lips
(my ever loving two lips)
Make petunias two lips mine
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
A Rose And A Blade Of Grass
When rain falls to the ground
from the skies,
Its the Heavens kissing the
Earth,
When they make love-
Flowers, fruits, green grasses
are the offspring,
Dont lets kill these plants,
Cutting them down, classing
them as weeds-
Taking them away from their
mothers breath
After being vivified by tears of
love from their father,
Tears of men are sacred.
The Sun does not choose where
to shine,
Must we choose what plants are
of
More value than others?
A blade of grass I pick for you
In a den full of lions,
Must surely mean more than a
rose
I pick for you in a garden full of
butterflies.
© November 7,2011
poem by Isunge Mwangase
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
My Trees
The tree has branches so full of life’s teaching,
Anyone stays inside this house of wood.
My trees are in my garden of roses,
They are full of beauty, my garden tries hard
To learn and grow like humans and animals.
Your knowledge survives, my garden lives on
As it deserves to, my harder gardening is a concept.
Trees increase us in numbers, plants normally learn
Outright, their infinity is greater than ours.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
My Garden
My garden is a special place
Where morning blows its breeze
And sun dries the morning mists.
Where different plants and shrubs
Soothe the sight with flowers and buds.
My garden is a special place
Where busy bees fly and kiss
The beauty of flowers their nectar sipped
Where butterflies fly high and low
Attracting passers on the go.
My garden is a special place
Where I laid my worries and grief
Where I spend hours of peace
Where I hum with total bliss
Where I go and my stress ceased.
poem by Rose de Ramar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
My Little Garden
Sun yet to born,
crows yet to wake,
I ran to my little garden.
Dews everywhere
dark made a blanket on my plants.
I am looking for my rose flower
Mummy said today it will blossom.
I touched all my little plants
and they returned the shakehand
with cold honey dews.
The first rays of sun is coming
its breaking the dark into pieces
and my little swing birds started singing.
Where is my flower?
I checked everywhere.
Oh I found my plant and I cant believe
The beautiful yellow rose
I touched it, kissed it and plucked it
Mummy, Daddy.I screamed with joy
I run to them and showed, see my rose flower..
I stretched my hand to my mummy
then I noticed a red dot in the flower,
It was a dropp of blood
may be I touched the thorne
may be the plants eyedrops
may be the the flowers pain
may be the the pain of taking away from its mother
I feel sorry
Parting is sorrowfull
poem by Slb Pillai
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Great is The Heart permeated with Love, A treat is Life!
Pale are both eyes and world,
Only look like empty sketches,
Without love and emotions,
Just like Dariya saheb told!
A heart full with love,
Has that magical paint brush,
Which makes entire world blush,
No hate, no anguish,
Only sees lover even in plants and
bush
Ocean waves look like Kissing the
shore,
Clouds dance encircling
mountains,
shedding tears of
love as rain!
Bees heard singing to flower, To one without Love,
The path is full of scraps and
garbage,
But for a lovers eye,
It is flower bed spread by
nature, strange
Full of apple and grape!
Life is that garden,
Bodies are beautiful plants,
Heart filled with love are
fragrant flowers,
Mind and emotions Are colourful
petals,
Thought and deeds are fragrance,
wisdom and knowledge are
gracious fruits,
When all hearts are full of love,
eyes permeated with love,
Sees love permeate all around, Is home of that cosmic visitor,
Sometimes weary may he look,
Rest a while here and seeker
become one with seeked
Life it self is a treat
when love permeates through the devine garden
Great is that life
Permeate
and radiate Love!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I hardly have any spare time! But when I do, I garden a lot - I love plants and flowers.
Garden of Life
A garden of life is again a garden that I desire,
It grows from a point and a line that I concoct,
The real line is here, the garden is upon us.
What can May bring towards the end of the day?
It is summer evening, gardener of the week is absent
To feel fellowship with flowers and with plants and with trees.
Why do the seasons give in? What do you do in the night?
The day felt a picture too bold for the night, which was kind,
I like it when heat has ridden past the day.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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!
The Flowers
6 P M
At park
Lights on...
Green plants
Are sleeping...
No flowers
Plants on the park....
But...
Flowers smiling...
How...?
The lovers walking
On sitting on park....
Lovers also flowers...
A human body flowers...
Try to understand
Try with undreatand...?
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Circle And A Zero
A circle and a zero
Mistaken for each other
Taunt my mind for once
And I try to flee from them.
A circle has a unique face
And a zero has many.
The wise have ever proclaimed
As they have had to say something.
In a white paper, I draw a circle
But it looks like a zero.
When I attempt the latter,
The former fades away!
I run in a circle of odds
As many a zero chases me from behind.
I sleep under a circling wheel
And the nightmare of zeroes begins to haunt me.
Who are you both gentle images?
Why are you like twins identical?
May I ask you both just once?
What do you want to do with each other?
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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.
Circle Dream
[ buck/drew/gustafson/augustyniak/merchant ]
[ percussion: paulinho da costa ]
I dreamed of a circle, I dreamed of a circle round.
And in that circle I had made were all the worlds unformed and unborn yet.
A volume, a sphere that was the earth, that was the moon, that did revolve around my room.
I dreamed of a circle, I dreamed of a circle round.
And in that circle was a maze, a terrible spiral to be lost in.
Blind in my fear, I was escaping just by feel.
But at every turn my way was sealed.
I dreamed of a circle, I dreamed of a circle round.
And in that circle was a face.
Her eyes looked upon me with fondness.
Her warmth coming near, calling me sweetness, calling me dear.
But I whispered, no, I cant rest here.
I dreamed of a circle, I dreamed of a circle round.
song performed by by 10000 Maniacs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Ballade Of True Wisdom
While others are asking for beauty or fame,
Or praying to know that for which they should pray,
Or courting Queen Venus, that affable dame,
Or chasing the Muses the weary and grey,
The sage has found out a more excellent way -
To Pan and to Pallas his incense he showers,
And his humble petition puts up day by day,
For a house full of books, and a garden of flowers.
Inventors may bow to the God that is lame,
And crave from the fire on his stithy a ray;
Philosophers kneel to the God without name,
Like the people of Athens, agnostics are they;
The hunter a fawn to Diana will slay,
The maiden wild roses will wreathe for the Hours;
But the wise man will ask, ere libation he pay,
For a house full of books, and a garden of flowers.
Oh! grant me a life without pleasure or blame
(As mortals count pleasure who rush through their day
With a speed to which that of the tempest is tame)!
O grant me a house by the beach of a bay,
Where the waves can be surly in winter, and play
With the sea-weed in summer, ye bountiful powers!
And I'd leave all the hurry, the noise, and the fray,
For a house full of books, and a garden of flowers.
ENVOY.
Gods, grant or withhold it; your 'yea' and your 'nay'
Are immutable, heedless of outcry of ours:
But life IS worth living, and here we would stay
For a house full of books, and a garden of flowers.
poem by Andrew Lang
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Edmund: Thou'st spoken right. 'Tis true.
The wheel is come full circle. I am here.
line from King Lear, Act V, Scene 3 by William Shakespeare (1606)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
Vote! | Copy! | In Romanian