In The Meadow - What In The Meadow?
In the meadow - what in the meadow?
Bluebells, buttercups, meadowsweet,
And fairy rings for the children's feet
In the meadow.
In the garden - what in the garden?
Jacob's-ladder and Solomon's-seal,
And Love-lies-bleeding beside All-heal
In the garden.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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Related quotes
Across the Meadow
Across the meadow
Across the sea
Their life is brighter
Their life you should see
Across the meadow
Across the sea
Their leader so sagacious
To there, why don't we flee?
Across the meadow
Across the sea
Life is greener on the other side
Same goes for the village
Across the meadow and across the sea
Close your eyes, and then you will see
poem by Solomon Crane
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pirate Story
Three of us afloat in the meadow by the swing,
Three of us abroad in the basket on the lea.
Winds are in the air, they are blowing in the spring,
And waves are on the meadow like the waves there are at sea.
Where shall we adventure, to-day that we're afloat,
Wary of the weather and steering by a star?
Shall it be to Africa, a-steering of the boat,
To Providence, or Babylon or off to Malabar?
Hi! but here's a squadron a-rowing on the sea--
Cattle on the meadow a-charging with a roar!
Quick, and we'll escape them, they're as mad as they can be,
The wicket is the harbour and the garden is the shore.
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
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Mommio
When I was a child, you showed me a meadow of flowers.
You told me their names and we stayed there for hours.
Buttercups glistened as they drank the sun’s rays
Amongst bluebells that glowed in their majestic ways.
I played in the meadow, but loved holding your hand.
You taught me about life and helped me understand
That love, like these flowers, though silent, can voice
A splendiferous message when it’s my choice,
To express love with actions like forgive and forget;
To greet all with a smile and be glad that we’ve met;
To lead a colorful, bountiful life and have fun,
Praising the heavens as do flowers the sun.
This selfless love that you’ve forever shown me
Has opened my eyes so that I’ll always see
The softness that buttercups and bluebells display
With their colors and scents that can lighten life’s way.
Thank you, dearest mother, for your hand from the start.
Though flowers will fade, your love lives deep in my heart.
poem by Gregory Huyette
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To Mommio
When I was a child, you showed me a meadow of flowers.
You told me their names and we stayed there for hours.
Buttercups glistened as they drank the sun’s rays
Amongst bluebells that glowed in their majestic ways.
I played in the meadow, but loved holding your hand.
You taught me about life and helped me understand
That love, like these flowers, though silent, can voice
A splendiferous message when it’s my choice,
To express love with actions like forgive and forget;
To greet all with a smile and be glad that we’ve met;
To lead a colorful, bountiful life and have fun,
Praising the heavens as do flowers the sun.
This selfless love that you’ve forever shown me
Has opened my eyes so that I’ll always see
The softness that buttercups and bluebells display
With their colors and scents that can lighten life’s way.
Thank you, dearest mother, for your hand from the start.
Though flowers will fade, your love lives deep in my heart.
poem by Gregory Huyette
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dearest Mother
When I was a child, you showed me a meadow of flowers.
You told me their names and we stayed there for hours.
Buttercups glistened as they drank the sun's rays
Amongst bluebells that glowed in their majestic ways.
I played in the meadow, but loved holding your hand.
You taught me about life and helped me understand
That love, like these flowers, though silent, can voice
A splendiferous message when it's my choice,
To express love with actions like forgive and forget;
To greet all with a smile and be glad that we've met;
To lead a colorful, bountiful life and have fun,
Praising the heavens as do flowers the sun.
This selfless love that you've forever shown me
Has opened my eyes so that I'll always see
The softness that buttercups and bluebells display
With their colors and scents that can lighten life's way.
Thank you, dearest mother, for your hand from the start.
Though flowers will fade, your love lives deep in my heart.
poem by Gregory Huyette
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In The Meadow
I asked the silver one on one
Tell me who I am
Lines on your finger says
You wouldnt understand
I asked the silver one on one
Tell me whats the score
Lies on your picture says
You wouldnt need much more
In the meadow
I asked oblivion just for fun
Tell me what to say
Climb up the mountain boy
And look the other way
I asked a million questions
Of the world I want to be
And the signs I remember
Whos the one they got to me
In the meadow,
Looking for life in the world
Everythings fine
In the meadow
Ceilings so high
Life might be listening
So we better take our time
We asked a wonder one on one
Please tell me what to be
Call down the miracles
And save yourself for me
We asked a river one on one
Please tell me what you see
I see forever
And it looks like you and me
In the meadow
Looking for life in the world
Everythings fine
In the meadow
Ceilings so high
Life might be listening
So we better take our time
In the meadow
Looking for life in the world
In the meadow
Everythings fine
In the meadow
Ceilings so high
Life might be listening
So we better take our time
In the meadow
In the meadow
Looking for life
In the meadow
Feeling so fine
In the meadow
Seeming so high
Life might be listening
Life might be listening
So we better take our time
In the meadow
song performed by by Men Without Hats
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Garden
Do you believe in the man in the garden
Do you believe that he was there
Do you believe in the man in the garden
Do you believe or do you care
Did he rise from the ashes and lead the sky above
Did he lie in the name of love
....in the garden
Do you believe in the path that you follow
Do you believe it takes you where you want
Do you believe in the lies that you swallow
Do you believe it takes you where you go
See the man. he never lies he never will
Did he fight for the right to kill
....in the garden
....in the garden
Theres a little man in a house alone...waiting
He doesnt lie.
He doesnt wait for love to hold on to
He doesnt lie. he doesnt wait...
Johnnys in the garden
I see the err in my ways
....in the garden
Do you believe in the man in the garden
song performed by by Five For Fighting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Garden
Do you believe in the man in the garden
Do you believe that he was there
Do you believe in the man in the garden
Do you believe or do you care
Did he rise from the ashes and lead the sky above
Did he lie in the name of love
....in the garden
Do you believe in the path that you follow
Do you believe it takes you where you want
Do you believe in the lies that you swallow
Do you believe it takes you where you go
See the man. he never lies he never will
Did he fight for the right to kill
....in the garden
....in the garden
Theres a little man in a house alone...waiting
He doesnt lie.
He doesnt wait for love to hold on to
He doesnt lie. he doesnt wait...
Johnnys in the garden
I see the err in my ways
....in the garden
Do you believe in the man in the garden
song performed by by Five For Fighting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Garden, The
do you believe in the man in the garden
Do you believe that he was there
Do you believe in the man in the garden
Do you believe or do you care
Did he rise from the ashes and lead the sky above
Did he lie in the name of love
....in the garden
Do you believe in the path that you follow
Do you believe it takes you where you want
Do you believe in the lies that you swallow
Do you believe it takes you where you go
See the man. he never lies he never will
Did he fight for the right to kill
....in the garden
....in the garden
There's a little man in a house alone...waiting
He doesn't lie.
He doesn't wait for love to hold on to
He doesn't lie. he doesn't wait...
Johnny's in the garden
I see the err in my ways
....in the garden
Do you believe in the man in the garden
song performed by by Five For Fighting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Too Soon (Dedicated To Mrs Tham My El Lit Teacher, hi PUALINA
The bluebells of June have finally been lost,
back to the earth that bore them,
throughout my life I will dread their flowering
for they scar a time of yearning.
Their coming fills me with the happiness
of memories of you, but they still gave me suffering
with the time of mourning for you
But yet these could still
Reveal the secret garden of my heart.
The forest floor, full of purple glory
scented gently of you,
one March we strolled its peaceful path
a meadow beneath our feet.
A year passed in a blink of an eye,
And then you were gone
Later in the month of June,
came the anguish of my soul -
you left me far too soon,
Like the bluebells of June
If only I could hear your voice,
the calming things you would say,
the earth itself would bow to my grief.
Like the bluebells every June,
You came and-
Gone too soon.
12/07/12
poem by Skylar Stamon Silver Salvatore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Childhood Garden
my childhood garden
my childhood garden
lush and green
it was so happy it made me scream
my joy and hopes
and all my mopes
my childhood garden
my childhood garden
with the ups and downs
when i jumped i could not touch the ground
with my purle ponys
it made it homey
my childhood garden
my childhood garden
flying high
with the little lies
the grass fine
up in the sky my kite
my childhood garden
my childhood garden
now in the past
i now know that it can never last
now as i get taller
it was differnt when i was smaller
my childhood garden
poem by Danielle Eager
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Mocking Fairy
'Won't you look out of your window, Mrs. Gill?'
Quoth the Fairy, nidding, nodding in the garden;
'Can't you look out of your window, Mrs. Gill?'
Quoth the Fairy, laughing softly in the garden;
But the air was still, the cherry boughs were still,
And the ivy-tod neath the empty sill,
And never from her window looked out Mrs. Gill
On the Fairy shrilly mocking in the garden.
'What have they done with you, you poor Mrs. Gill?'
Quoth the Fairy brightly glancing in the garden;
'Where have they hidden you, you poor old Mrs. Gill?'
Quoth the Fairy dancing lightly in the garden;
But night's faint veil now wrapped the hill,
Stark 'neath the stars stood the dead-still Mill,
And out of her cold cottage never answered Mrs. Gill
The Fairy mimbling, mambling in the garden.
poem by Walter de la Mare
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There's a Fairy Hippy Commune I Know
Down at the bottom of the garden
Where the bluebells grow
We've got wondrously special fairies
That we ever did really know
Mummy doesn't believe us
Because they've got long hair
And she says
'Whoever heard of a fairy say what's mine is yours to share'?
I wish that she could see them
I wish that she would go
Down to the bottom of the garden
Where the hippy faries go
Last saturday they had a party
And it was really great
There was fairy wine
And mushroom crisps piled up upon a plate
The leader of the commune
Is a boy in bright coloured clothes
He talks of love and being kind
To everyone he knows
But now they must be moving
To go and camp elsewhere
Preaching fairy love and happiness
To People everywhere.
poem by Margaret Beil
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In the Garden, With My Father
It is spring.
As in my garden, I stand.
In the garden -
My father is there;
... though long since gone...
He IS there.
I tend to the weeds,
The veggies and flowers...
He is there.
I never understood him
(as I should have, could have) ...
Until now,
Here, in the garden.
Where I, like he, work the soil.
I've come just recently
(these last few years)
To enjoy and love my garden so.
- I am not as surprised afterall, as I would have thought,
To find him here.
Here, in the garden.
He loved his garden very much.......
I - at that early age of restless youth - had no use
For such slow moving things.
But now, I see, and myself move, at a much slower pace.
Therefore, it is him I am here and now able to see,
In the garden.
Watching it all grow, so peacefully.
It is somewhat sad, that now,
When I can no longer tell him,
I understand.
For I have come to find... I love the garden too,
Just as much as he;
And we both always will.
My father - standing in the garden -
I now know.
After all these long years.
And I've missed him so;
But, how wonderful to find,
He IS here...
In the garden, our garden,
Always, with me.
poem by Smoky Hoss
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When You Define A Thing
when you define
a thing, you limit it,
it is like fencing
your garden
the garden becomes
a set of exclusive
flowers, and anything
not like it becomes
a weed, and anything
that moves
becomes a pest
it is not that you
do not define, we do
it sometimes
only to understand
the limits of
understanding,
but we must be open
to other possibilities
of a garden,
a garden of stones
a garden of sand
of mud, of water
a fountain, a garden
of winds, of clouds
a garden of memories
like a poem
for instance, a garden
of words,
words with arms open
to the magic
of further creation
words still trying
to define themselves
in the garden
of the unknown
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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That Same Old Obsession
I come to this garden
I come here to rest
Early each day upon risin
I think of my lost love
From over the sea
And sometimes Ive wondered
If she thinks of me
I long to recall every kiss, every kind word
I miss her so much I could die
But the creatures of evil
Have captured her heart
And that same old obsession
Still keeps us apart
Theres peace in the garden
Theres peace in the air
Peace in the sound of the river
Theres peace in the meadow
The sun shines like gold
And if she were with me
Thered be peace in my soul
I long to return to the place, I remember
The taste of her lips close to mine
I could do much better
If I could be strong
Come into my garden
But leave me alone
I come to this garden
I come here to rest
Just as the night comes stealin
Someone is weeping
Shes calling my name
Deep in the garden
Deep in my brain
I long to recall every kiss, every kind word
I miss her so much I could die
But the creatures of evil
Have captured her heart
And that same old obsession
Still keeps us apart
But the creatures of evil
Have captured her heart
And that same old obsession
Still keeps us apart
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Attraction
The meadow and the mountain with desire
Gazed on each other, till a fierce unrest
Surged ‘neath the meadow’s seemingly calm breast,
And all the mountain’s fissures ran with fire.
A mighty river rolled between them there.
What could the mountain do but gaze and burn?
What could the meadow do but look and yearn,
And gem its bosom to conceal despair?
Their seething passion agitated space,
Till lo! the lands a sudden earthquake shook,
The river fled: the meadow leaped, and took
The leaning mountain in a close embrace.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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The First Noel / When The Meadow Was Bloomin'
(Instrumental)
In April weather
when the meadow was bloomin'
we walk together
to the top of the hill
upon the clover
when the meadow was bloomin'
we dreamed together
just us true lovers will
but summer flies on
far across the horizon
and winter lies on
over the valley and hills
do you remember
when the meadow was bloomin'
in bleak December
do you think of me still
but summer flies on
far across the horizon
and winter lies on
over the valley and hills
do you remember
when the meadow was bloomin'
in bleak December
do you think of me still
do you remember
just as I always will
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ragged and Wise.
I Looked into my garden,
At the bluebells.
And thought of a wood,
Far away and long ago.
I could never return to (anymore) .
Ragged and wise.
I never, ever saw your lies.
Why is love so unwise?
I`ve loved my garden,
It`s every new growth and nuance.
But never as much as
I longed for
Your smiling eyes.
Once more,
Ragged and unwise.
poem by Peter Vealey
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Buttercup
Summer is brought
through this lemon zest
of colour-
reflected under the chin,
means, that you like
a flavour.
And in the meadows
of childhood,
and Laughter's happiness,
caught between
the embrace of trees,
at Glendalough,
we sit together.
Like buttercups
In the meadow of laughter,
A reflection upon my chin,
and smile and
laughter,
like a buttercup in
The summer meadow,
Your happiness,
reflects and refracts.
poem by Bernard Kennedy
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