Dies Dominica! the sunshine burns
Dies Dominica! the sunshine burns
strong incense on the breathing fields of morn:
lucid, intense, all colour towards it yearns
that souls of flowers on the air are born.
What claustral joy to-day is on the air
—expanding now and one with the celebrant sun—-
and fills with pointed flame all things aware,
all flowers and souls that sing—and I am one!
Dies Dominica! the passion yearns,
and the world and the singer is but one flower
from out whose luminous chalice odour burns
intenser toward the blue thro’ this keen hour:
—this hour is my eternity! the soul
rises, expanding ever, with the sight,
thro’ flowers and colours, and the visible whole
of beauty mingled in one dream of light.
poem by Christopher John Brennan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
The flame has softer fingers
The flame has softer fingers,
Than petals from a flower,
And it's memory is less
For every hour that it burns,
And the flower isn't jealous,
Of whomever enjoys it's beauty;
While the fire consumes most anything,
And none of it is spurned.
But flowers know almost nothing,
Of how a flame gets started;
And a fire knows even less
Of how a flower grew
Still, they have a slight respect,
In regarding, each the other;
As if each had certain knowledge
Flames and flowers are too few.
So there's a lesson for us,
If we care to pay attention
To living forests forming
Their own funeral pyres:
As the flame hates not rare beauty.
And the flower's not faint-hearted;
If you've never yet been burned:
You don't have to fear the fire.
poem by Patti Masterman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Flowers Fade Into Rebirth
flowers fade into rebirth
forget me nots soft blue petals
fog out of sight out of mind
flowers yellow flame gold centres
form early spring seed perennials
forming expanding second blooms
poem by Terence George Craddock
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!
Introduction
‘Five windows light the cavern’d Man: thro’ one he breathes the air;
Thro’ one hears music of the spheres; thro’ on the eternal vine
Flourished, that he may receive the grapes; thro’ one can look
And see small portions of the eternal world that ever growth;
Thro’ one himself pass out what time he please, but he will not;
For stolen joys are sweet, & bread eaten in secret pleasant.’
So sang a Fairy mocking as he sat on a streak’d Tulip,
Thinking none saw him; when he ceas’d I started from the trees,
And caught him in my hat as boys knock down a butterfly.
‘How know you this,’ said I, ‘small Sir? where did you learn this song?’
seeing himself in my possession, thus he answer’d me:
‘My Master, I am yours; command me, for I must obey.’
‘Then tell me what is the material world, and is it dead?’
He laughing answer’d: ‘I will write a book on leaves of flowers,
If you will feed me on love-thoughts, & give me now and then
A cup of sparkling poetic fancies. So, when I am tipsie,
I’ll sing to you to this soft lute, and shew you all alive
The world, where every particle of dust breathes forth its joy.’
I took him home in my warm bosom. As we went along
Wild flowers I gather’d, & he shew’d me each eternal flower.
He laugh’d aloud to see them whimper because they were pluck’d.
They hover’d round me like a cloud of incense. When I came
Into my parlour and sat down, and took my pen to write,
My Fairy sat upon the table, and dictated ‘EUROPE.’
poem by William Blake from Europe a Prophecy (1794)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy!
My Heart Burns and Melts
My heart burns and melts with a pain and sickness
unlike this world has seen
for the tears and cries and pain and hurt of loved ones
my heart burns and melts with the ugliness which paints this world
a gloomy gray for the greed, violence, hate, and prejudice
which plaques our world
my heart burns and melts for the tired, hungry, weak, and poor
for the wars that slaughters billions and families
that are torn apart by lust and greed and jealously and hate
my heart burns and melts with a passion as strong as incense
as we live our lives in sin and vain without a care in the world
for the world we live in is cold as ice and the world is dark as pitch
for my heart burns and melts with a passion of pain and sadness
as my heart burns and melts like ice
for my heart burns and melts for the sick and needy of the world
for the broken hearts out there who need healing
for my heart burns and melts with a passion as strong as love itself
in hoping that one day the world will a happier place
enriched in golden bliss of happiness and peace on earth
for my heart burns with a passion for a dream
that's as sweet as love itself in all its beauty
poem by Brett Strotman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Loom of Years
In the light of the silent stars that shine on the struggling sea,
In the weary cry of the wind and the whisper of flower and tree,
Under the breath of laughter, deep in the tide of tears,
I hear the Loom of the Weaver that weaves the Web of Years.
The leaves of the winter wither and sink in the forest mould
To colour the flowers of April with purple and white and gold:
Light and scent and music die and are born again
In the heart of a grey-haired woman who wakes in a world of pain.
The hound, the fawn, and the hawk, and the doves that croon and coo,
We are all one woof of the weaving and the one warp threads us through,
One flying cloud on the shuttle that carries our hopes and fears
As it goes thro’ the Loom of the Weaver that weaves the Web of Years.
The green uncrumpling fern and the rustling dewdrenched rose
Pass with our hearts to the Silence where the wings of music close,
Pass and pass to the Timeless that never a moment mars,
Pass and pass to the Darkness that made the suns and stars.
Has the soul gone out in the Darkness? Is the dust sealed from sight?
Ah, hush, for the woof of the ages returns thro’ the warp of the night!
Never that shuttle loses one thread of our hopes and fears,
As it comes thro’ the Loom of the Weaver that weaves the Web of Years.
O, woven in one wide Loom thro’ the throbbing weft of the whole,
One in spirit and flesh, one in body and soul,
Tho’ the leaf were alone in its falling, the bird in its hour to die,
The heart in its muffled anguish, the sea in its mournful cry,
One with the flower of a day, one with the withered moon
One with the granite mountains that melt into the noon
One with the dream that triumphs beyond the light of the spheres,
We come from the Loom of the Weaver that weaves the Web of Years.
poem by Alfred Noyes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Loom of Years
In the light of the silent stars that shine on the struggling sea,
In the weary cry of the wind and the whisper of flower and tree,
Under the breath of laughter, deep in the tide of tears,
I hear the Loom of the Weaver that weaves the Web of Years.
The leaves of the winter wither and sink in the forest mould
To colour the flowers of April with purple and white and gold:
Light and scent and music die and are born again
In the heart of a grey-haired woman who wakes in a world of pain.
The hound, the fawn, and the hawk, and the doves that croon and coo,
We are all one woof of the weaving and the one warp threads us through,
One flying cloud on the shuttle that carries our hopes and fears
As it goes thro’ the Loom of the Weaver that weaves the Web of Years.
The green uncrumpling fern and the rustling dewdrenched rose
Pass with our hearts to the Silence where the wings of music close,
Pass and pass to the Timeless that never a moment mars,
Pass and pass to the Darkness that made the suns and stars.
Has the soul gone out in the Darkness? Is the dust sealed from sight?
Ah, hush, for the woof of the ages returns thro’ the warp of the night!
Never that shuttle loses one thread of our hopes and fears,
As it comes thro’ the Loom of the Weaver that weaves the Web of Years.
O, woven in one wide Loom thro’ the throbbing weft of the whole,
One in spirit and flesh, one in body and soul,
Tho’ the leaf were alone in its falling, the bird in its hour to die,
The heart in its muffled anguish, the sea in its mournful cry,
One with the flower of a day, one with the withered moon
One with the granite mountains that melt into the noon
One with the dream that triumphs beyond the light of the spheres,
We come from the Loom of the Weaver that weaves the Web of Years.
poem by Alfred Noyes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Three Ponds in Hellbrunn
The First
Around the flowers the blowflies reel,
Around the pale flowers on dull flood,
Go away! Go away! The air burns!
In the depth the fervor of putrefaction glows!
The pasture weeps, the silence stares,
A sultry vapor brews on the waters.
Go away! Go away! It is the place
For black toads' disgusting rut.
The Second
Images of clouds, flowers, and people
Sing, sing, joyful world!
Smiling innocence reflects you -
Everything it likes becomes heavenly!
It amicably transforms darkness into light,
Distant things become near! O joyful you!
Sun, clouds, flowers and people
Breathe the peace of God in you.
The Third
The waters shimmer greenish-blue
And calmly the cypresses breathe,
The evening sounds bell-deep -
Then the depth grows immeasurably.
The moon rises, the night turns blue,
Blossoms in the reflection of the floods -
An enigmatic Sphinx face,
On which my heart wants to bleed to death.
poem by Georg Trakl
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
How The Heart Approaches What It Yearns
In the blue light
Of the belvedere motel
Wondering as the television burns
How the heart approaches what it yearns
In a fever
I distinctly hear your voice
Emerging from a dream, the dream returns
How the heart approaches what it yearns
After the rain on the interstate
The headlights slide past the moon
A bone-weary traveler
Waits by the side of the road
Wheres he goin?
I dream we are lying on the top of a hill
And headlights slide past the moon
I fold in your arms
And your voice is the heat of the night
Im on fire
In a phone booth
In some local bar and grill
Rehearsing what Ill say, my coin returns
How the heart approaches what it yearns
How the heart approaches what it yearns
song performed by by Paul Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Dream Dies
So aother dream dies
And another I suppose ends up in blue skies
Give me a why?
Not tonight, not tomorrow
There's nothing to say
You are a shadow in a flame
A blue flame, but it burns cold
So cold it burns, cold white hot and blue
Be the reason, come down star
Take me away to where nothing
Is all it seems
poem by Midnights Voice
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Ugly Flowers
Ugly flower
Anything in
The world...?
No...
Not its...
Beauty...
Very beauty flowers
Are there...
Normal flowers also
Are there...
Ugly flowers
Are not in
The world...
Many ugly flowers
Are born on some
Bleady people
Sole and mind only...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
But a short time to live
Our little hour,—how swift it flies
When poppies flare and lilies smile;
How soon the fleeting minute dies,
Leaving us but a little while
To dream our dream, to sing our song,
To pick the fruit, to pluck the flower,
The Gods—They do not give us long,—
One little hour.
Our little hour,—how short it is
When Love with dew-eyed loveliness
Raises her lips for ours to kiss
And dies within our first caress.
Youth flickers out like wind-blown flame,
Sweets of to-day to-morrow sour,
For Time and Death, relentless, claim
Our little hour.
Our little hour,—how short a time
To wage our wars, to fan our hates,
To take our fill of armoured crime,
To troop our banners, storm the gates.
Blood on the sword, our eyes blood-red,
Blind in our puny reign of power,
Do we forget how soon is sped
Our little hour?
Our little hour,—how soon it dies:
How short a time to tell our beads,
To chant our feeble Litanies,
To think sweet thoughts, to do good deeds.
The altar lights grow pale and dim,
The bells hang silent in the tower—
So passes with the dying hymn
Our little hour.
poem by Leslie Coulson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Flower Show
Flower show
Flowers
Smile
Clour to
Clours...
Hunted for
Heart..
For flower smooth..
Flowers are
Beauty....
Some flowers
Are ugly...
I dont want
This matter...
Flowers are
Only Sumilee'S
That is flowers....
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Beauty at scrutiny
Beauty is born of novelty
And dies of banality
Beauty is born of rarity
And dies of disuse.
Beauty is born of formidability
And dies off familiarity.
Beauty is born of forbidden ness
And dies of togetherness.
Beauty is born in conquest
And dies of another conquest.
In net, beauty is born in one’s arrival
And dies in one’s overstaying.
A thing of a fresh one is a joy for ever.
03.03.2003
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sunshine(a song)
Shining so bright up in the sky
The brightest thing in the world
Other than you
Sunshine...
ooh oow oh
Sunshine...oh oh oh
You are the sunshine in my eyes
the light in my soul
Sunshine...
ooh oow oh
(chorus)
Moonlit nights
Sunshining days
Sunshine...Sunshine
oh oow oh
Sunshine...
Yea, yea, yea
Sunshine that never dies out
The way you look into my eyes
Burns just like the sunshine
Sunshine...oh oh oh oow
(chorus)
Baby...
The light in your eyes
Makes my heart melt
Like ice in the sun
Sunshine, sunshine, sunshine
oh oh oh
(chorus) x2
(sunshine, oh oh oh)
6\20\08
poem by Alexandria Rios
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Born With The Hunger
Hear the coyote howl
He's found his pray at last
In one moment of weakness
The chase is over so fast
He celebrates his kill
No mercy in his eyes
When you're born with the hunger
The hunger never dies
Midnight is on the prowl
And I hear it call my name
Danger lurks in the shadows
But it's all part of a game
Until I quench this thirst
I will not close these eyes
When you're born with the hunger
The hunger never dies
You and I, we're the same
We both carry this flame
To depths of our souls
Once the fever awakes
We can never escape
It's beyond our control
We're both born with the hunger
Oh with the hunger
Temptation bites your lip
One kiss ignites the fire
So begins the seduction
As we succumb to desire
Your body aches for more
Why are you so surprised
When you're born with the hunger
The hunger never dies
When you're born with the hunger
The hunger - it never dies
Never dies
When you're born with the hunger It never dies
When you're born with the hunger Oh, it never dies
He celebrates the kill
You're born with the hunger
It never dies
song performed by by Cher
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
When I look at the world around me
Pink, red and purple geraniums
that flower in the garden,
cannot grow without sunlight
and water.
Still, every different flower
has an own colour, a different odour
and the texture of flower cups
and the time that buds last
are different.
When I look at the world around me,
I know how a part
of You’re great omnipotence looks
and I see flowers dazzling everywhere,
to pay homage to You
from who
every thing comes
and every plant and flower
leaves me dumbstruck with beauty.
In all things, Your love is unlimited
and the greatness of Your works
tells me that I‘m also part
of Your making
and that all things fit somewhere
in Your universe.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Thoughts at the Trysting Stile
Come, May, and hang a white flag on each thorn,
Make truce with earth and heaven; the April child
Now hides her sulky face deep in the morn
Of your new flowers by the water wild
And in the ripples of the rising grass,
And rushes bent to let the south wind pass
On with her tumult of swift nomad wings,
And broken domes of downy dandelion.
Only in spasms now the blackbird sings.
The hour is all a-dream.
Nets of woodbine
Throw woven shadows over dreaming flowers,
And dreaming, a bee-luring lily bends
Its tender bell where blue dyke-water cowers
Thro' briars and folded ferns, and gripping ends
Of wild convolvulus.
The lark's sky-way
Is desolate.
I watch an apple-spray
Beckon across a wall as if it knew
I wait the calling of the orchard maid.
Inly I fell she will come in blue,
With yellow on her hair, and two curls strayed
Out of her comb's loose stocks, and I shall steal
Behind and lay my hands upon her eyes,
'Look not, but be my Psyche! '
And her peal
Of laughter will ring far, and as she tries
For freedom I will call her names of flowers
That climb up walls; then thro' the twilight hours
We'll talk about the loves of ancient queens,
And kisses like wasp-honey, false and sweet,
And how we are entangled in love's snares
Like wind-looped flowers.
poem by Francis Ledwidge
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Flowers, Beautiful Flowers
Life is that precious and divine,
Souls journey as per schedule,
Visit places and people,
smile and laugh,
Weep and cry together,
Come alone and go alone,
Nothing brought, nothing taken!
Just it is like flower,
Blossom and spread its fragrance,
Put a signature on several hearts,
Gone flower, never come,
Memory of its beauty,
Aura remains all the time everywhere
In hearts of those who had seen it!
People too are like flowers,
That flowers in the garden of divine,
Some are beautiful,
Some by their wisdom and knowledge,
Some with deeds and virtues,
Flowers, beautiful flowers of God's Garden!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
In the spring garden
In the spring garden
~
In the spring garden
Birds sing and chatter
While flowers raise their heads
To greet the morning sun
A garden filled with colour bright
A garden which now fills with life
The bee and the butterfly hover
From flower to flower gathering nectar
Seeding the flowers blossom
Throughout the spring garden
The dew glistens upon the grass
While the wind gently rolls in the tree
All the world slowly waking
Soon to this bounty of great beauty
Every hue from natures pallet
Is here free for all to see
In the spring garden
poem by Matthew Holloway
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!