Plants of great vigor will almost always struggle into blossom, despite impediments. But there should be encouragement, and a free genial atmosphere for those of more timid sort, fair play for each in its own kind.
quote by Margaret Fuller
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
The finest gift you can give anyone is encoragement. Yet, almost no one gets the encouragement they need to grow to their full potential. If everyone received the encouragement they need to grow, the genius in most everyone would blossom and the world would produce abundance beyond the wildest dreams. We would have more than one Einstein, Edison, Schweitzer, Mother Theresa, Dr. Salk and other great minds in a century.
quote by Sidney Madwed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Sonnet II. (Translated From Milton)
As on a hill-top rude, when closing day
Imbrowns the scene, some past'ral maiden fair
Waters a lovely foreign plant with care,
That scarcely can its tender bud display
Borne from its native genial airs away,
So, on my tongue these accents new and rare
Are flow'rs exotic, which Love waters there,
While thus, o sweetly scornful! I essay
Thy praise in verse to British ears unknown,
And Thames exchange for Arno's fair domain;
So Love has will'd, and oftimes Love has shown
That what He wills he never wills in vain.
Oh that this hard and steril breast might be
To Him who plants from heav'n, a soil as free.
poem by William Cowper
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
You know I used to sit there and I'd go outside and play ball and everything, but now in my free time I just kind of lay back and relax because this atmosphere is so busy and stressful, so anytime I can sleep, you'd best believe I'm sleepin'.
quote by Scotty McCreery
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Fair Flowers
Blossom fair flowers of my fair lady,
The prime time of love is now here to share with her;
For her precious petals are now full of love.
To unfold the truth and to kiss what she has to give to me,
But, i want to spin around the spot of love with pleasure things;
And with the blossom of fair flowers of her love.
Float like a butterfly and sting like a gnat on this muse!
For, i was born to love my fair lady in the ladn of beautiful flowers;
And, behind every great vision, there is a positive realm.
To cry at birth and to cry when you are older,
over the clouds of love and with the beauty of the rainbow around;
But this parasie of love is for my fair lady and i,
And like the black ribbon up high in the sky! !
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Can’t Breathe This Greed Industrialization
atmosphere
provide
oxygen
atmosphere
provide
carbon dioxide
atmosphere provide
for plants animals
seal in an ecosystem
atmosphere
guardian part
of water cycle
complex interactions
elements in atmosphere
without atmosphere
there would
be possible
no life at all
give me a little
of my God given air
of my God created air
give me a little
so i may breathe in renewed
complex wonder of creation
pollution sticks in my throat
burns eyes throat burns
mankind is burning creation
can’t breathe this
greed
industrialization
give
me less greenhouse
gases
earth pump
as God created
engineered
give me
a little
clean air
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Let It All Be Music
Music is a mirror
Near around my soul
Music is the spirit
Come on let it roll
Music is my nature
People have you heard
Music is my future
Music is the world
Let it all be music
People sing a song
Let it all be music
Let us sing it on and on and on and on
Lets play the music
My kind of music
Lets play the music
Play it on
Lets play the music
My kind of music
Lets play the music
Play it on and on and on
Music isnt somewhere
Music turns you right
Music is a fever
Leads you day and night
Music is like heaven
Where you wanna be
Music is religion
Music sets you free
Let it all be music
People sing a song
Let it all be music
Let us sing it on and on and on and on
Lets play the music
My kind of music
Lets play the music
Play it on
Lets play the music
My kind of music
Lets play the music
Play it on and on and on
Music is tomorrow
Music is today
Music is forever
Music is the way
Music is for women
Music is for men
Music is for children
Sing it all again
Let it all be music
People sing a song
Let it all be music
Let us sing it on and on and on and on
Lets play the music
My kind of music
Lets play the music
Play it on
Lets play the music
My kind of music
Lets play the music
Play it on and on and on
I can feel it, in my soul
I can feel it, in my heart
Sweet sweet sweet music
Music
Sweet sweet sweet music
Sweet music
Play it on
Play it on
My my my my my kind of music
Play it
Play the music
My my my my my kind of music
Play it
I said play it
On and on and on and on
Music
song performed by by Boney M.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Shall I Wasting in Despair
Shall I wasting in despair
Die because a woman's fair?
Or make pale my cheeks with care
'Cause another's rosy are?
Be she fairer than the day,
Or the flow'ry meads in May,
If she be not so to me,
What care I how fair she be?
Shall my heart be griev'd or pin'd
'Cause I see a woman kind?
Or a well-disposed nature
Joined with a lovely feature?
Be she meeker, kinder, than
Turtle dove or pelican,
If she be not so to me,
What care I how kind she be?
Shall a woman's virtues move
Me to perish for her love?
Or her well-deserving known
Make me quite forget mine own?
Be she with that goodness blest
Which may gain her name of best
If she be not such to me,
What care I, how good she be?
'Cause her fortune seems too high
Shall I play the fool and die?
Those that bear a noble mind,
Where they want of riches find,
Think what with them they would
That without them dare to woo;
And unless that mind I see,
What care I how great she be?
Great, or good, or kind, or fair,
I will ne'er the more despair;
If she love me, this believe,
I will die ere she shall grieve;
If she slight me when I woo,
I can scorn and let her go;
For if she be not for me,
What care I for whom she be?
poem by George Wither
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Cloud and atmosphere
Clouds appear
In the atmosphere
Atmosphere remained
Uncontaminated by clouds
Clouds is not always present
In the atmosphere
Atmosphere exists
Even when there is no clouds.
There is no clouds
There is atmosphere
There is no atmosphere
There is no clouds
Clouds is atmosphere
Atmosphere is not clouds.
Atmosphere exists in its own beings
Clouds has no separate existence
You are my atmosphere
I'm your cloud
Pray
Make me always clear
And in good use.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Song II
Shall I, wasting in despair,
Die, because a woman's fair?
Or make pale my cheeks with care
'Cause another's rosy are?
Be she fairer than the day,
Or the flow'ry meads in May;
If she be not so to me,
What care I how fair she be.
Should my heart be grieved or pined
'Cause I see a woman kind?
Or a well-disposèd nature
Joinèd with a lovely creature?
Be she meeker, kinder than
Turtle-dove or pelican:
If she be not so to me,
What care I how kind she be.
Shall a woman's virtues move
Me to perish for her love?
Or, her well-deserving known,
Make me quite forget mine own?
Be she with that goodness blest
Which may gain her name of best
If she be not such to me,
What care I how good she be.
'Cause her fortune seems too high,
Shall I play the fool and die?
Those that bear a noble mind,
Where they want or riches find,
Think what with them they would do
That without them dare to woo.
And unless that mind I see,
What care I though great she be.
Great, or good, or kind, or fair,
I will ne'er the more despair;
If she love me, this believe,
I will die ere she shall grieve.
If she slight me, when I woo,
I can scorn, and let her go.
For, if she be not for me,
What care I for whom she be.
poem by George Wither
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Manly Heart
Shall I, wasting in despair,
Die because a woman's fair?
Or my cheeks make pale with care
'Cause another's rosy are?
Be she fairer than the day
Or the flowery meads in May --
If she be not so to me,
What care I how fair she be?
Shall my foolish heart be pined
'Cause I see a woman kind;
Or a well dispos-ed nature
Join-ed with a lovely feature?
Be she meeker, kinder, than
Turtle-dove or pelican,
If she be not so to me,
What care I how kind she be?
Shall a woman's virtues move
Me to perish for her love?
Or her merit's value known
Make me quite forget mine own?
Be she with that goodness blest
Which may gain her name of Best;
If she seem not such to me,
What care I how good she be?
'Cause her fortune seems too high,
Shall I play the fool and die?
Those that bear a noble mind
Where they want of riches find,
Think what with them they would do
Who without them dare to woo;
And unless that mind I see,
What care I though great she be?
Great or good, or kind or fair,
I will ne'er the more despair;
If she love me, this believe,
I will die ere she shall grieve;
If she slight me when I woo,
I can scorn and let her go;
For if she be not for me,
What care I for whom she be?
poem by George Wither
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
We came from far, very far
We came from far,
We came from far,
I must come to believe that,
That we are on a long journey,
It hast no ending,
I must come to believe that,
We came from a long struggle,
Just believe and think that we are from a very long journey,
That the rest still cannot believe it,
This is the composure that is coming from this thought,
I know that all struggle's gave man no limits to that great encouragement,
The journey gave man no limitations,
Whilst Iam bearing in my conscience that world is tough,
All beginnings will have no ending,
With the thought of a great composure,
We are on that Higher Journey,
That most of Humanity still cannot believe it,
This is that remedy for Humanity,
Just hold on and believe with that conscience.
poem by Maxpoet Beauty
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Fisherman
The sunset hues
colour the sky red
at evening tide
predicting fair weather
for the day ahead.
No storm clouds
to follow me
as I set my sails
on my great fishing boat
for my journey out to sea
with sun and fair winds
to follow me.
A fisherman is my life
with the sail and sea my home.
Free to do what I do best
fish the bounty of the sea.
At dusk, I rest
and wait for the morning fair.
A fisherman is my life,
something I’ll always be
until the day comes along
to visit Davy Jones locker,
but until then I’ll roam free
wherever the fair wind takes me.
No landlover me
as the sea is my home
and where I always want to be,
watching whales and dolphins play
and the gulls for company.
17 February 2011
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
That's a little homage in a way to that and also to create that sort of creepy atmosphere that Hitchcock did. Vertigo was one of his great movies that was shot right here in The City and it's about a woman and the psychological twists and so forth.
quote by Philip Kaufman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Lover's Resolution
SHALL I, wasting in despair,
Die because a woman 's fair?
Or make pale my cheeks with care
'Cause another's rosy are?
Be she fairer than the day,
Or the flow'ry meads in May,
If she think not well of me,
What care I how fair she be?
Shall my silly heart be pined
'Cause I see a woman kind?
Or a well disposed nature
Joined with a lovely feature?
Be she meeker, kinder, than
Turtle-dove or pelican,
If she be not so to me,
What care I how kind she be?
Shall a woman's virtues move
Me to perish for her love?
Or her well-deservings known
Make me quite forget my own?
Be she with that goodness blest
Which may merit name of Best,
If she be not such to me,
What care I how good she be?
'Cause her fortune seems too high,
Shall I play the fool and die?
She that bears a noble mind,
If not outward helps she find,
Thinks what with them he would do
That without them dares her woo;
And unless that mind I see,
What care I how great she be?
Great, or good, or kind, or fair,
I will ne'er the more despair;
If she love me, this believe,
I will die ere she shall grieve;
If she slight me when I woo,
I can scorn and let her go;
For if she be not for me,
What care I for whom she be?
poem by George Wither
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Alankar (Decor) -12
What Sort Is He, Bitter Or Sweet....
What sort is He, bitter or sweet to say
Pastime painter black and white, dark and bright
Alltime sadist by nature He His play
Pain or pleasure He seems be His pretext..
Ruing so dark a woman black she hued
Blighted a leaf as withers she shrivels
This day even ahead on stairs cultured
Accursed, a bad society she feels
And look, laughing pride yet another one
Glowing outside fair with conceit inside
This day that all wish for union one
Dispairs her fair skin dark on rungs down slide
Writhing in mind a worm hunting His sort
In vain blaming, praising, admits His sport
poem by Indira Renganathan
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!
In River Of Time
Grains on the ground
With water blossom
Blossom into plants
Plants blossom into tree
The tree become grey
The grey will fall
In the river of time
Books were created
They should be open
Open to be read
Read to understand
Understood when finish
In the river of time
Candles give light
In the river of time
Their stem will shorten
When shorten, we see dark
The books will close
The trees will fall
Candles blow away
Sometimes eyes cry
Memories we hold
But soon we will fall
In the river of time
Dedicated: (To Her late Father in law)
Publish work of Eyan Desir
poem by Eyan Desir
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The hidden violence lurked (English sonnet)
The hidden violence lurked, was right there,
waiting always waiting to come to the surface
and in Africa most people were totally unaware
until the blood flowed, until they had to face
the destruction, until a hungry lion rushed in;
on the tranquil river eyes were peeping
and this struggle no unarmed person could win
when razor sharp jaws were snapping
and yet a kind of beauty, a kind of innocence,
was always present and just waiting to appear,
even if cruelty did daily feelings incense
there was something without any kind of fear
that dwelt in the early morning beauty,
something that stayed great and forever free.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Edge Of Your Atmosphere
Lets get to the point
Everything you have
You dont want
All you seem to do is whine for more.
You never hear a word i say
I wonder what motivates your selfish intuition
To get your way.
All the games you play
Makes everybody run away
Im sitting here just waiting
For you to come around.
So why you always think that im so retarded
Standing on the edge of your atmosphere?
You have everything that youve ever wanted
But your lifes not full, And youre miserable.
Where do we go from here?
Its getting really hard to justify
Your intolerable behaviour
Or is it me?
My attempts to break the ice
Just depends on a roll of the dice
Can you help me understand
What is it you fear?
Please tell me why,
All the games you play
Makes everybody run away
Im sitting here just waiting
For you to come around.
So why you always think that im so retarded
Standing on the edge of your atmosphere?
You have everything that youve ever wanted
But your lifes not full, And youre miserable.
Look at all the things you have said and done
I cant feel sorry for you anymore
Its only fair to say that your prescence i hold dear
So im sorry im still here.
All day and night
All we do is fight
Doesnt matter who is wrong or right.
So why you always think that im so retarded
Standing on the edge of your atmosphere?
You have everything that youve ever wanted
But your lifes not full, And youre miserable.
Look at all the things you have said and done
I cant feel sorry for you anymore
Its only fair to say that your prescence i hold dear
So im sorry im still here.
song performed by by Kelly Osbourne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
~My Book~
It's a one of a kind tale...
An unbelievable, kind of adventure saga...
My life-story, kind of fiction, novel -
A non-fiction, sort of auto-biography!
Wrapped up, in a Flowery Hard-Cover...
A Book of Prose, sort of adventure -
It's the raw and naked truth narrative, in verse...
About a woman, on a mission-kind, of Hidden Journal -
A day-to-day, action, sort of diary -
Defined as: ' Hot to Sizzling'
Located in an Eastern State of Our Nation -
In a city, quaintly named: Quantico -
It's: 'In a high demand' catagory -
It's 'My Life'
'The Reality
Then and Now'
poem by Theodora Onken
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!