On The Companionship With Nature
Let us be much with Nature; not as they
That labour without seeing, that employ
Her unloved forces, blindly without joy;
Nor those whose hands and crude delights obey
The old brute passion to hunt down and slay;
But rather as children of one common birth,
Discerning in each natural fruit of earth
Kinship and bond with this diviner clay.
Let us be with her wholly at all hours,
With the fond lover's zest, who is content
If his ear hears, and if his eye but sees;
So shall we grow like her in mould and bent,
Our bodies stately as her blessèd trees,
Our thoughts as sweet and sumptuous as her flowers.
poem by Archibald Lampman
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The Village
When a new life turns towards you
And the night becomes a bay
We shall remain forever
Everyone who meets his way
Oh, our love is like the flowers
The rain and the sea and the hours
Oh, our love is like the flowers
The rain and the sea and the hours
When the rain falls to the sea
Theyll be waiting for you and for me
And the sky reflects our image
Trying to sleep right through our lives
Oh, our love is like the earth
The sun and the trees and the birth
Oh, our love is like the earth
The sun and the trees and the birth
I am still here two days later
Same place, same time
And Im stuck here two years too long
Same place, the wrong time
Oh, our love is like the flowers
The rain and the sea and the hours
Oh, our love is like the flowers
The sun and the sea and the hours
Their love died three years ago
Spoken words I cannot show
song performed by by New Order
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The day has come
Potter moulds clay;
A day would come
For the clay to mould man.
Man mould nature;
The day has come
For the nature to mould man.
26.03.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Human-nature relation
The Sun is beaming direct ultra rays
Sea waves rising and blocking the ways
Moon is hiding face with no cool shine
Nothing seems to be going very fine
Sudden change is causing alarm
Snow bound areas are turning warm
Greenery is disappearing along with farms
You don’t feel warmth when embraced by arms
Glaciers are melting with floods so common
Volcanoes erupt with force all of sudden
Earthquakes take toll with so much destruction
Human error tragedies too………………..
Nothing is going on in normal way
Nature is infuriated with complete sway
She has been naked by uprooting trees
Natural holocaust is asking for free
Spreading of virus and birth of new diseases
Human misery doesn’t stop or never ceases
What we are waiting for on earth to witness?
All able bodied human beings with weakness
We may loose complete natural resources
Helplessly we may watch all destructive forces
Nothing will be left to cry or lament upon
We may be digging grave for our own
Poisonous snakes and animals rush to population
Human hunt by them is on rise with escalation
We are inching forward for complete annihilation
This has got direct bearing on human-nature relation
How to protect and preserve our natural heritage?
Do we consider nature and its source as vintage?
Is nature loosing its prominence and advantage?
Let there be any thing but it has got an edge
It is still not late to act with honest intention
We must act fast for its loss or prevention
We may survive if nature is protected
Go for remedies or plugging holes if detected
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Sonnet -Bad Thoughts Lead To Sinful Actions
Our Life's a fight within oneself from birth;
A fight with forces, external also;
We have to go through this struggle on earth;
'Tis left to us to Heaven, well forgo.
Bad thought's the seed for any type of sin;
Good thought's the seed that makes one do good deeds;
A sinful thought, we must always well pin,
'fore poisonous trees grow from these evil seeds.
To control thoughts is well within our pow 'r;
Our actions most are quite voluntary;
The joy from sin is just momentary;
The devil is the sinner's main lover.
Nip off your evil thoughts whenev'r newborn;
If allowed then, your soul is surely torn.
poem by John Celes
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The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part III: Gods And False Gods: LXIV
HE APPEALS AGAINST HIS BOND
In my distress Love made me sign a bond,
A cruel bond. 'Twas by necessity
Wrung from a foolish heart, alas, too fond,
Too blindly fond, its error to foresee.
And now my soul's estate, in jeopardy,
Lies to a pledge it never can redeem.
Love's loan was love, one hour of ecstasy,
His penalty eternal loss of him.
--See, I am penniless, the forfeit paid,
And go a beggar forth from thy dear sight,
My pound of more than flesh too strictly weighed
And cut too near the heart. Fair Israelite,
Thy plea was just. Thy right has been confessed.
And yet a work of mercy were twice blessed.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Children’s Day 2011
The bud that tried to form some way
Was disallowed from doing so;
The bud that sprung out fine one day
Couldn’t blossom like how others do.
The buds that bloomed into flowers
Got plucked or crushed before they grew;
The flowers that found the rain showers
Got withered unseeded by dew!
When children are future adults on earth,
Why parents choose to play God while in womb?
And kill them mercilessly before birth,
Converting their first home into a tomb!
When love of God has formed them healthy, hale,
Should mom or dad decide their destiny?
And if to Maker unborn tell their tale,
God’s rage will rise supporting the tiny!
Let parents love their kids before their birth;
Let unborn see world’s grandeur that’s God-made;
Let human beings be humane on earth;
Let love of life be prime and hatred fade!
Allow all children to be born and fed;
Give them the love and tender care they need;
Bestow the warmth and human touch in bed;
Let children grow like mammoth trees from seed!
On Children’s Day, let love enter young hearts;
Let children not be unwanted on earth;
Let children not be used as man’s spare-parts;
Let every nation feel proud by their birth!
poem by John Celes
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Hamatreya
Bulkeley, Hunt, Willard, Hosmer, Meriam, Flint,
Possessed the land which rendered to their toil
Hay, corn, roots, hemp, flax, apples, wool and wood.
Each of these landlords walked amidst his farm,
Saying, "'Tis mine, my children's and my name's.
How sweet the west wind sounds in my own trees!
How graceful climb those shadows on my hill!
I fancy these pure waters and the flags
Know me, as does my dog: we sympathize;
And, I affirm, my actions smack of the soil.'
Where are these men? Asleep beneath their grounds:
And strangers, fond as they, their furrows plough.
Earth laughs in flowers, to see her boastful boys
Earth-proud, proud of the earth which is not theirs;
Who steer the plough, but cannot steer their feet
Clear of the grave.
They added ridge to valley, brook to pond,
And sighed for all that bounded their domain;
'This suits me for a pasture; that's my park;
We must have clay, lime, gravel, granite-ledge,
And misty lowland, where to go for peat.
The land is well,--lies fairly to the south.
'Tis good, when you have crossed the sea and back,
To find the sitfast acres where you left them.'
Ah! the hot owner sees not Death, who adds
Him to his land, a lump of mould the more.
Hear what the Earth says:--
Earth-Song
'Mine and yours;
Mine, not yours, Earth endures;
Stars abide--
Shine down in the old sea;
Old are the shores;
But where are old men?
I who have seen much,
Such have I never seen.
'The lawyer's deed
Ran sure,
In tail,
To them, and to their heirs
Who shall succeed,
Without fail,
Forevermore.
'Here is the land,
Shaggy with wood,
With its old valley,
Mound and flood.
"But the heritors?--
Fled like the flood's foam.
The lawyer, and the laws,
And the kingdom,
Clean swept herefrom.
'They called me theirs,
Who so controlled me;
Yet every one
Wished to stay, and is gone,
How am I theirs,
If they cannot hold me,
But I hold them?'
When I heard the Earth-song,
I was no longer brave;
My avarice cooled
Like lust in the chill of the grave.
poem by Ralph Waldo Emerson
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Love Lives Beyond the Tomb
Love lives beyond
The tomb, the earth, which fades like dew-
I love the fond,
The faithful, and the true.
Love lies in sleep,
The happiness of healthy dreams,
Eve's dews may weep,
But love delightful seems.
'Tis seen in flowers,
And in the even's pearly dew
On earth's green hours,
And in the heaven's eternal blue.
'Tis heard in spring
When light and sunbeams, warm and kind,
On angels wing
Bring love and music to the wind.
And where is voice
So young, so beautiful, so sweet
As nature's choice,
Where spring and lovers meet?
Love lies beyond
The tomb, the earth, the flowers, and dew.
I love the fond,
The faithful, young, and true.
poem by John Clare
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Wonder I at Nature!
Lovely song delights heart;
Beautiful poem pleases mind;
Sweet art sustains soul ever;
Nature is living art all in one!
Singing bird is amazing wonder;
Swimming swan is swaying beauty;
Colourful butterfly is flower alive;
Nature is divine art all in one!
Beautiful flowers dancing by wind,
Colourful fish swimming in ecstasy,
Stars twinkling as diamonds in sky
Nature simply delights all in ecstasy!
Is Nature in all its glory only on Earth
Or in the whole of Universe? I wonder!
poem by Ramesh T A
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Strange fits of passion have I known
Strange fits of passion have I known:
And I will dare to tell,
But in the lover's ear alone,
What once to me befell.
When she I loved looked every day
Fresh as a rose in June,
I to her cottage bent my way,
Beneath an evening-moon.
Upon the moon I fixed my eye,
All over the wide lea;
With quickening pace my horse drew nigh
Those paths so dear to me.
And now we reached the orchard-plot;
And, as we climbed the hill,
The sinking moon to Lucy's cot
Came near, and nearer still.
In one of those sweet dreams I slept,
Kind Nature's gentlest boon!
And all the while my eye I kept
On the descending moon.
My horse moved on; hoof after hoof
He raised, and never stopped:
When down behind the cottage roof,
At once, the bright moon dropped.
What fond and wayward thoughts will slide
Into a Lover's head!
'O mercy!' to myself I cried,
'If Lucy hould be dead!'
poem by William Wordsworth
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Growth And Trees
Growth
Trees are conceived just as humans are
from seeds the striplings rise
Yet rooted to one place
They grow
No choice where their future lies
Subject to nature’s way’s and whim’s
bearing the brunt of chance
No option, no choice
No vote, no voice
they perform in the wind, their arboreal dance
And they grow
Like young children they blossom with grace and wonder
With litheness, with vibrance
Innocence thereunder
filled with awe and wonder
They grow, oh how they grow!
Tall and stronger, each day brings them closer
To the sky and the clouds
To the smell of ambrosia
like their wee kinfolk, in fields of timothy and clover
Children and trees know nothing of guile
Lies, treachery, deceit
The common, the elite
And yet all the while
They grow
With the approach of Fall winds, the trees sway and quiver
Immodestly dropping more leaves with each shiver and
a blanket of yellow, a patchwork of gold
Shielding the earth from winter’s coming cold
Settles silently,
Yet relentlessly
Shyly, yet bold
Through the winds of winter
Through the ice and the snow
They exist, they persist
They resist, they insist
That they grow
They grow
They awaken like children to springs fresh breath
Limbs green, supple and new
Buds swelling, birds dwelling, life is refreshed
Mother natures, spring time brew
Invigorating
Intoxicating and
Exhilarating too
Children and trees rush toward summer with glee and
Are dressed in new raiment to suit
The trees clad in green, the child’s green knees
New seeds in the ground taking root
Squirrels scratch the bark
The sparrow, the lark
They grow
The young, in nests, creation reborn
New life, new presence on earth
From womb, from eggs, new life is formed
The world as always gives birth
As it was
As it is
As it always will be
They will never cease
To grow.
poem by David Whalen
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Flower naturally to boom
I had always wished flowers to boom
With nice place, space and very good room
Where they can come out from their hiding
See the world themselves and chiding
We know it is for short duration
So is the life too in question!
Why do we stop them from booming?
When danger is already large looming?
Let children too invade this holy land
No restriction for their coming to befriend
Lovely air and nature for very good refuge
Large and tall trees with mountains so huge
We want their arrival restricted
Cruelty and other sorts inflicted
Yet they come despite out precaution
We just need to think it with only caution
We need to leave certain things to our creator
He is whole and sole and real mentor
What we are on earth today?
Just helpless animal pushed away
We do the things never called for
We defy the rules and kill the persons in war
We recklessly aim at complete annihilation
How can we go in for such devastation?
Let us do the complete rethinking
Take steps before ship is sinking
Not a blade of grass may grow
If we continuously pollute the river flow
We can destroy the land several times today
Still some weapons will be left to throw away
We can mange to destroy but not to revive
Yet time is left to think over and survive
What will be left on earth to enjoy?
If we employ the methods to destroy
Why flowers, children, and trees alone?
Only beautiful earth will left behind with stones
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Flowers to boom
I had always wished flowers to boom
With nice place, space and very good room
Where they can come out from their hiding
See the world themselves and chiding
We know it is for short duration
So is the life too in question!
Why do we stop them from booming?
When danger is already large looming?
Let children too invade this holy land
No restriction for their coming to befriend
Lovely air and nature for very good refuge
Large and tall trees with mountains so huge
We want their arrival restricted
Cruelty and other sorts inflicted
Yet they come despite out precaution
We just need to think it with only caution
We need to leave certain things to our creator
He is whole and sole and real mentor
What we are on earth today?
Just helpless animal pushed away
We do the things never called for
We defy the rules and kill the persons in war
We recklessly aim at complete annihilation
How can we go in for such devastation?
Let us do the complete rethinking
Take steps before ship is sinking
Not a blade of grass may grow
If we continuously pollute the river flow
We can destroy the land several times today
Still some weapons will be left to throw away
We can mange to destroy but not to revive
Yet time is left to think over and survive
What will be left on earth to enjoy?
If we employ the methods to destroy
Why flowers, children, and trees alone?
Only beautiful earth will left behind with stones
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A flower's boom
I had always wished flowers to boom
With nice place, space and very good room
Where they can come out from their hiding
See the world themselves and chiding
We know it is for short duration
So is the life too in question!
Why do we stop them from booming?
When danger is already large looming?
Let children too invade this holy land
No restriction for their coming to befriend
Lovely air and nature for very good refuge
Large and tall trees with mountains so huge
We want their arrival restricted
Cruelty and other sorts inflicted
Yet they come despite out precaution
We just need to think it with only caution
We need to leave certain things to our creator
He is whole and sole and real mentor
What we are on earth today?
Just helpless animal pushed away
We do the things never called for
We defy the rules and kill the persons in war
We recklessly aim at complete annihilation
How can we go in for such devastation?
Let us do the complete rethinking
Take steps before ship is sinking
Not a blade of grass may grow
If we continuously pollute the river flow
We can destroy the land several times today
Still some weapons will be left to throw away
We can mange to destroy but not to revive
Yet time is left to think over and survive
What will be left on earth to enjoy?
If we employ the methods to destroy
Why flowers, children, and trees alone?
Only beautiful earth will left behind with stones
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Wonders Of Nature
The wonders of Nature around us every day
The billions of multicoloured wildflowers that bloom in their own natural way
The hum of the nectar gathering honey bees
And the scent of pollen blown out from the blossoming trees.
The pleasant sounds of Nature to us ever near
The songs of the wild birds so pleasing for to hear
And as much as the trees and the flowers and as much as bird song
We are part of Nature and to her we belong.
The beauty of Nature is for all to see
It is all around you and it is all around me
The beauty of our Earth Mother is for all to admire
And of singing her praises could one ever tire.
The poets are inspired by her and in their poems they sing
Of her Seasons the Summer, Fall, Winter and Spring
And in the work of the artist on the gallery wall
The beauty captured on canvas of a waterfall.
The wonders of Nature are around us everywhere
White butterflies dancing in the balmy air
And in Nature everything lives in a natural way
And for to view her beauty we do not have to pay.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Aesop
HE sat among the woods; he heard
The sylvan merriment; he saw
The pranks of butterfly and bird,
The humors of the ape, the daw.
And in the lion or the frog,—
In all the life of moor and fen,—
In ass and peacock, stork and dog,
He read similitudes of men.
“Of these, from those,” he cried, “we come,
Our hearts, our brains descend from these.”
And, lo! the Beasts no more were dumb,
But answered out of brakes and trees:
“Not ours,” they cried; “Degenerate,
If ours at all,” they cried again,
“Ye fools, who war with God and Fate,
Who strive and toil; strange race of men.
“For we are neither bond nor free,
For we have neither slaves nor kings;
But near to Nature’s heart are we,
And conscious of her secret things.
“Content are we to fall asleep,
And well content to wake no more;
We do not laugh, we do not weep,
Nor look behind us and before:
“But were there cause for moan or mirth,
’T is we, not you, should sigh or scorn,
Oh, latest children of the Earth,
Most childish children Earth has born.”
They spoke, but that misshapen slave
Told never of the thing he heard,
And unto men their portraits gave,
In likenesses of beast and bird!
poem by Andrew Lang
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Lucy i
STRANGE fits of passion have I known:
And I will dare to tell,
But in the lover's ear alone,
What once to me befell.
When she I loved look'd every day
Fresh as a rose in June,
I to her cottage bent my way,
Beneath an evening moon.
Upon the moon I fix'd my eye,
All over the wide lea;
With quickening pace my horse drew nigh
Those paths so dear to me.
And now we reach'd the orchard-plot;
And, as we climb'd the hill,
The sinking moon to Lucy's cot
Came near and nearer still.
In one of those sweet dreams I slept,
Kind Nature's gentlest boon!
And all the while my eyes I kept
On the descending moon.
My horse moved on; hoof after hoof
He raised, and never stopp'd:
When down behind the cottage roof,
At once, the bright moon dropp'd.
What fond and wayward thoughts will slide
Into a lover's head!
'O mercy!' to myself I cried,
'If Lucy should be dead!'
poem by William Wordsworth
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Symbolic Spring
Spring is like birth.
You finally come onto the Earth.
You bloom and grow like flowers.
As birth can go on for hours.
The color of you is red.
Like the roses in a rose bed.
Your first breath is a scream of doom.
Not everything has hit full bloom.
poem by Sammi Schneider
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Hours Continuing Long
HOURS continuing long, sore and heavy-hearted,
Hours of the dusk, when I withdraw to a lonesome and unfrequented
spot, seating myself, leaning my face in my hands;
Hours sleepless, deep in the night, when I go forth, speeding swiftly
the country roads, or through the city streets, or pacing miles
and miles, stifling plaintive cries;
Hours discouraged, distracted--for the one I cannot content myself
without, soon I saw him content himself without me;
Hours when I am forgotten, (O weeks and months are passing, but I
believe I am never to forget!)
Sullen and suffering hours! (I am ashamed--but it is useless--I am
what I am;)
Hours of my torment--I wonder if other men ever have the like, out of
the like feelings?
Is there even one other like me--distracted--his friend, his lover,
lost to him?
Is he too as I am now? Does he still rise in the morning, dejected,
thinking who is lost to him? and at night, awaking, think who
is lost?
Does he too harbor his friendship silent and endless? harbor his
anguish and passion? 10
Does some stray reminder, or the casual mention of a name, bring the
fit back upon him, taciturn and deprest?
Does he see himself reflected in me? In these hours, does he see the
face of his hours reflected?
poem by Walt Whitman
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Recognition of this kinship with the rest of the universe is necessary for understanding him, but his essential nature is defined by qualities found nowhere else, not by those he has in common with apes, fishes, trees, fire, or anything other than himself.
quote by George G. Simpson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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