To My Love
To My Love
As a fragrant flower
Let me bloom a day,
And in your silken locks
Let me for a moment stay:
As the bright vermilion,
Let me be with thee,
On your moon-like forehead,
With pride for others to see:
As a string of pearls
Let me around you stay,
To caress your slender neck
And there to happily play:
As the tinkling bangles
Let me for once be
On your fair, lovely arms
And roll on with glee:
As the soft breeze
Let me for a time flow,
And on your lap play
Like a sweet child of glow:
The heart I possessed,
I know not how you snatched,
At your feet, now, my soul, I lay
With a love that is unmatched!
poem by Chandra Thiagarajan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The Sweet Lass-Chandrakanta
The Sweet Lass—CHANDRAKANTA
The Magnetic Moon,
Is she aptly named;
For her innocent smile
In ICF she's famed.
Like a lovely creeper
Swaying in the breeze;
She is pretty sweeter,
For one's heart does squeeze,
The dark flowing tresses
In one long plait,
Swinging to and fro
With her swan-like gait:
Adorned with an aster
In all it's bloom;
She is sure an angel,
Dispelling all gloom.
Like a new bride
Clinging to her spouse,
The pretty flower
From her own house—
Kissing her silken locks
And smiling with pride;
It is enhanced in beauty,
Tucking in at her side.
poem by Chandra Thiagarajan
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April Flower
Bloom for me,
My April flower.
Show your beauty,
I'll take a gander.
The wind scatters your scent
Giving me the feeling of heaven.
You're the perfection i've dreamt,
The one that i've chosen.
Bloom for me,
My April Flower,
And let me see,
Your petals that matches no other.
I know you're not mine
And you did not grew for me
I can only see you again this time
Unable to resist fate's cruelty.
Bloom for me,
My April Flower,
Though we're not destined to be,
Stay in my heart and take shelter.
In my heart, you will not wilt,
You will eternally bloom..
Even if i am burdened by this guilt,
and love is my certained doom.
Bloom for me for the last time,
At least i can call this moment mine
Ignore my reasons that doesn't rhyme,
Show me your beauty that i can't define.
Bloom..for all eternity..April Flower.
poem by John Paul Ang
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Vermilion
Pierre Bonnard would enter
the museum with a tube of paint
in his pocket and a sable brush.
Then violating the sanctity
of one of his own frames
he'd add a stroke of vermilion
to the skin of a flower.
Just so I stopped you
at the door this morning
and licking my index finger, removed
an invisible crumb
from your vermilion mouth. As if
at the ritual moment of departure
I had to show you still belonged to me.
As if revision were
the purest form of love.
poem by Linda Pastan
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Nearer my God to Thee
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer to Thee
E'en though it be a cross
That raiseth me,
Still all my song shall be,
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer to Thee.
Tho' like a wanderer,
The sun gone down,
Darkness be over me,
My rest a stone,
Yet in my dreams I'll be
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer to Thee.
There let the way appear,
Steps unto heaven;
All that Thou sendest me
In mercy be given,
Angels to beckon me
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer to Thee.
Then with my waking thoughts
Bright with Thy praise,
Out of my stony griefs
Bethel I'll raise;
So by my woes to be
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer to Thee.
Or if, on joyful wing
Cleavihg the sky,
Sun, moon, and stars forgot,
Upward I fly,
Still all my song shall be,
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer to Thee.
poem by Sarah Flower Adams
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Tribute to the Moon
Moon in your glorious moment
What a nice bright moon tonight,
With the big and round moon torching light on me
Crescent, Half-Moon, Full moon, Blue Moon
Make no difference as thee always the same
The dull night blush as usual
The lunar light streams as usual
Enlighten all the mankind with your light
Steer them away from the greed
Steer them away from the lust
It seem so long ago.
When i am tiny, repeatedly amazed by your splendor
Moon... Moon...
Listen to my plea..
Come to me..
Wash away all my worries.
Wash away all my sadness,
For thee only release me from all the stress
For thee only bring peacefulness to my life.
Absorb me in your luminescence
Light my life with thee.
poem by MyPrince Hong
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Nearer, my God, to Thee.
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer to Thee!
E'en though it be a cross
That raiseth me:
Still all my song shall be
Nearer, my God! to Thee,
Nearer to Thee.
Though, like the wanderer,
The sun gone down,
Darkness be over me,
My rest a stone;
Yet in my dreams I'd be
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer to Thee.
Then let the way appear
Steps unto heaven;
All that Thou sendest me
In mercy given:
Angels to beckon me
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer to Thee.
Then with my waking thoughts
Bright with Thy praise,
Out of my stony griefs
Bethel I'll raise;
So by my woes to be
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer to Thee.
Or if on joyful wing,
Cleaving the sky,
Sun, moon, and stars forgot,
Upward I fly:
Still all my song shall be,
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer to Thee.
poem by Sarah Flower Adams
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Purple Splendor
Shiny and purple trumpets
Tiny bright and purple
Hyacinth flowers
Make fragrant hours
Fragrant trumpets
Bright purple hyacinths
Inside an artichoke jar
On a marble table of carved cherubins
I love thee more than
My color TV.
poem by M.L. Squier
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A Beautiful Flower Blooming
A withered flower blooming again
breeze shook the flower
the sun is shining on flower
rain water to wash the dust-filled flower
abort storm petals
storm that renders the flower petals
polling beetle sucking painful
flower that bloom so bright today
beauty exudes an aura of coolness of the beholder
spread the fragrance that invites a bee to touch
although many other flowers around it
bees sucking the flower first
choose to suck and touch the flower
lately the flower
always bloom radiate beauty
a bee was not able to get away from the flower
a bee sucking the beautiful bloomington
always produce the honey taste good
really beautiful relationship between the flower and bee
both are very compatible and complement each other
poem by meti Rahmawati
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My Flower
A scent lingering in the
room
has led me to this very bloom.
A scent so fragrant,
A scent so grand,
A scent so strong it could
spread across the land.
A shade of golden-brown
is something that will not make me frown.
A flower so beautiful,
a flower that's for me
makes me bend on this very
knee.
The allure, scent, and attraction
is enough to control my very
action.
Don't worry, she's not only your flower,
she's my flower.
poem by Casey Jarrell
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I'll wait for the Second Dawn......
may you came late to my life, as the
ageless moment flew in the past of today
you who lend me to feel the resounding
echo of thy heart, whisper the mocking
birds of my inner heart and calls to listen
in the harbor of celestine shore
come in, lovely wind and hold my
face folding your immense calmness that
i adore, wait until, dawn, of where my
chime call for thee
let the flower bloom in your hair
and lead me to honor your command, the
sprouted glows flower in your way
wind callous me to wake, in the dream
day that i wish and show the real you in
the face of today, my soul greeted for
thee, make a million sea's for the dune
has to say forever free
goodbye dear heart, now the wind blows
as it might be the end of seeing my lovely
hope that i may see
oh! droplets of dew sizzle the falling
flowers of beautiful moment to stay
pick me up dear ……
poem by Antonio Liao
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Day
Linger, oh Sun, for a little, nor close yet this day of a million!
Is there not glory enough in the rose-curtained halls of the West?
Hast thou no joy in the passion-hued folds of thy kingly pavilion?
Why shouldst thou only pass through it? Oh rest thee a little while, rest!
Why should the Night come and take it, the wan Night that cannot enjoy it,
Bringing pale argent for golden, and changing vermilion to grey?
Why should the Night come and shadow it, entering but to destroy it?
Rest 'mid thy ruby-trailed splendours! Oh stay thee a little while, stay!
Rest thee at least a brief hour in it! 'Tis a right royal pavilion.
Lo, there are thrones for high dalliance all gloriously canopied o'er!
Lo, there are hangings of purple, and hangings of blue and vermilion,
And there are fleeces of gold for thy feet on the diapered floor!
Linger, a little while linger. To-morrow my heart may not sing to thee:
This shall be Yesterday, numbered with memories, folded away.
Now should my flesh-fettered soul be set free! I would soar to thee,
cling to thee,
And be thy rere-ward Aurora, pursuing the skirts of To-day!
poem by James Brunton Stephens
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Sonnet, For My Mother’s Birthday
AT thy approach, oh, sweet bewitching May!
Through ev'ry wood soft melodies resound;
On silken wings Favonian breezes play,
And scatter bloom and fragrance all around!
Yet not for these I hail thy gentle reign,
And rove enchanted through thy fairy bow'rs;
Not for thy warbled songs, thy zephyr-train,
Nor all the incense of thy glowing flow'rs.
For this to thee I pour the artless lay,
Oh, lovely May! thou goddess of the grove!
With thee returns the smiling natal day,
Of her, who claims my fond, my filial love!
Bright as thy sun-beams may it still appear,
Calm as thy skies, unclouded with a tear!
poem by Felicia Dorothea Hemans
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Yesterday's Flower
Yesterday's Flower
sunshine falls on potent flowers
like the nectar of youth's love
' blooms in emerald green ', held captive rose buds
dance to the music of the wind
life at first soft and sweet subtle
a whisper behind the floral scene
we're short lived as the fragrance arose
for the intoxication of seasons past
the celebration of flower's spring
worn thin life's very stem
dew drops hang so sparkling clear
and the musk of a honeysuckle nights
caress the moment and kiss good-by
youth the bloom of a new flower
now spent and broken
and the Fall winds weep!
' We are like a lovely flower, fragrant and firm until
the season of our lives take the lively parts slowly.'
For death waits for no one!
poem by Myrtle Thomas
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The Night-Blooming Cereus
FLOWER of the moon!
Still white is her brow whom we worshiped on earth long ago;
Yea, purer than pearls in deep seas, and more virgin than snow.
The dull years veil their eyes from her shining, and vanish afraid,
Nor profane her with age—the immortal, nor dim her with shade.
It is we are unworthy, we worldlings, to dwell in her ways;
We have broken her altars and silenced her voices of praise.
She hath hearkened to singing more silvern, seen raptures more bright;
To some planet more pure she hath fled on the wings of the night,—
Flower of the moon!
Yet she loveth the world that forsook her, for, lo! once a year
She, Diana, translucent, pale, scintillant, down from her sphere
Floateth earthward like star-laden music, to bloom in a flower,
And our hearts feel the spell of the goddess once more for an hour.
See! she sitteth in splendor nor knoweth desire nor decay,
And the night is a glory around her more bright than the day,
And her breath hath the sweetness of worlds where no sorrow is known;
And we long as we worship to follow her back to her own,—
Flower of the moon!
poem by Harriet Monroe
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A Flower's Fragrance Declare The World
In friendship's fragrant garden
The flower is the poetry of reproduction.
None can have a healthy love for flowers
unless he loves the wild ones.
Everything has been thought of before
but the difficulty is to think of it again.
In the hope of reaching the moon
men fail to see the flowers
And it's my faith, that every flower
Enjoys the air it breathes.
flowers are our constant friends.
The gardens that make us happiest flourish
A flower's fragrance declares to all the world
poem by Ezna Stephna
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A fragrant bloom is not necessarily a beautiful flower; an orator may not be a crackerjack.
Mister Moon And Mister Sun
Time goes so fast today. Don't blink she'll go away. Don't
close your eyes. Not for one moment. You feel so good right
now. You have to stay somehow. Don't let it slip. Let time
stay frozen.
She needs you. You need her. Just like the sun. Don't think
that it's over. It's just begun.
Oh Mister Moon and Mister Sun. Our song has only just
begun. Oh Mister Sun and Mister Moon. Don't let these
minutes go too soon.
If wishes were for free. My only hope would be. To stop the
clock. Let's keep this moment. I guess that's just a dream.
As hollow as your own moon beam. So let us revel in our
time.
She needs you. You need her. Just like the sun. It never is
over. Once it's begun.
Oh Mister Moon and Mister Sun. Our life has only just
begun. Oh Mister Sun and Mister Moon. Don't let this
moment go too soon.
Oh Mister Moon and Mister Sun. Our life has only just
begun. Oh Mister Sun and Mister Moon. Don't let this
moment go too soon. Oh Mister Moon and Mister Sun. Our
song has only just begun. Oh Mister Sun and Mister Moon.
Don't let these minutes go too soon
song performed by by Human League
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Love Thee
I love thee—I love thee!
'Tis all that I can say;—
It is my vision in the night,
My dreaming in the day;
The very echo of my heart,
The blessing when I pray:
I love thee—I love thee!
Is all that I can say.
I love thee—I love thee!
Is ever on my tongue;
In all my proudest poesy
That chorus still is sung;
It is the verdict of my eyes,
Amidst the gay and young:
I love thee—I love thee!
A thousand maids among.
I love thee—I love thee!
Thy bright hazel glance,
The mellow lute upon those lips,
Whose tender tones entrance;
But most, dear heart of hearts, thy proofs
That still these words enhance,
I love thee—I love thee!
Whatever be thy chance.
poem by Thomas Hood
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A flower for you.....
My being stands to judge my emptiness and
let me lead the radiant hope of your dream, to reach
the zooming aspiration of heart; a motionless of
desire in my soul
I’m may be a hero you've not seen, a flower
that bloom's in the desert of beautiful faces, a water
fresh flowing from a dirty stream, where fish
wish and like to swim, I may not be the bird that flies
in the highest sky, just let my beautiful wings
spread and bring you to end, leaving you with no pain
as you stay beneath the feather i’ll go
Leave nothing for me in the air instead brings me to
stay, the oozing spirit gently sway, in the midst wind i
can see the way, and bring all the flowers i give
for thee, for the flight i'll take is high and fast as it
could be
Hold on the flowers and smell the fragrance
while you’re on the way, its spell like fairy tale, yet!
live it and face reality, for the flower i give
will hold you to the end; the humid beginning of
flowering bloom’s in the air
Here's a new flower for you.....Darling
Diao Anton
“ A poem dedicated to Dr. Arcelita B. Zamoras “
poem by Antonio Liao
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Flower and Bird
Amongst the lonely branches of a tree,
Stood a lovely flower fragrant and free,
She was the sight of every passer-by,
'What a beautiful flower! ' people would cry.
The flower in the prime of its youth,
Couldn’t identify life and its real truth,
Proud by its fragrance and beauty it stood,
And thought that beauty was what made it good,
Impressed by its beauty a little bird would sing,
The tale of its love and the whole valley would ring,
Perched on the branch of the great oak tree,
The bird sings its love for the flower to see,
People would stop and look at this tale,
Of the beautiful lady and the gallant male.
And one day the bird let its heart out,
And the beautiful flower refused with pout,
The bird wanting its beloved’s heart,
Asked her, 'What do I do so that we don’t part? '
And the proud flower told the lonely bird,
'There is a flower down the valley, have you heard?
Its brilliant red, is said is more beautiful than me,
So dear bird, make me red, as red as I can be! '
The bird said, 'But your beauty is no match,
So beautiful are you that my heart, you did catch! '
The flower in its pride and anger,
Told the bird 'Oh! Don’t bother',
The sadness in its eyes, the bird couldn’t see,
And said, 'I gift the colour red to thee! '
Saying this he pierced his heart on a thorn,
And spilt the blood on her till he was torn,
And the flower indeed did become red,
With the love of the little bird’s blood,
People would stare at the beautiful flower,
And amongst the branches it would hover,
The people passing soon forgot the song of the bird,
But the silent lament of the flower was never heard,
The flower never forgot the love of its bird,
But the melody of the poor bird was never heard!
poem by Supriya Mothay
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