The Ladybug
I watched a tiny ladybug
At morning's light descending
Upon a flower that it hugged
A lovely sight, refreshing!
It freely moved with balanced ease
The touch of a dancer's grace
Laid charm its own floral trapeze
...It amazes me always!
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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Ladybug Smile
Ladybug smiles, burgundy on my wall
Sauntering tapestry; gently and noble
On six tiny legs gallop a plump little parasol
Towards a beige canvas of tiled mould heavens
Ladybug raindrop, of glossy enamel
Decant out a jungle on vertigo deserts
A sunspot of scarlet hangs onto your navel
Quixotic nascent my serpentine empress
Ladybug softly, removes my last tempest
A portrait of Mary beams in your concave
Six dots colored black, make up the best harvest
With you up above there's is no need to now parlay
Ladybug quilts me, a guardian angel
Quietly painting my face with her sunshine
You soothe hookah visions you wanderlust royal
Regaining the axletree my antenna Duchess
Ladybug merry, my eyes to your parade
Exciting and vibrant I'm flowing to rise
In your elegant scarlet's a corset display
Where I am going to join you in the life we can fly
poem by Kevin Patrick
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The Night Dream
To R. L.
NEITHER her voice, her name,
Eyes, quietness neither,
That moved through the light, that came
Cold stalk in her teeth
Bitten of some blue flower
Knew I before nor saw.
This was a dream. Ah,
This was a dream. There was sun
Laid on the cloths of a table
We drank together. Her mouth
Was a lion's mouth out of jade
Cold with a fable of water.
Faces I could not see
Watched me with gentleness. Grace
Folded my body with wings.
I cannot love you she said.
My head she laid on her breast.
As stillness with ringing of bees
I was filled with a singing of praise.
Knowledge filled me and peace.
We were silent and not ashamed.
Ah we were glad that day.
They asked me but it was one
Dead they meant and not I.
She was beside me she said.
We rode in a desert place.
We were always happy. Her sleeves
Jangled with earrings of gold.
They told me the wind from the south
Was the cold wind to be feared.
We were galloping under the leaves
This was a dream, Ah
This was a dream.
And her mouth
Was not your mouth nor her eyes,
But the rivers were four and I knew
As a secret between us, the way
Hands touch, it was you.
poem by Archibald MacLeish
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My Lovely Flower
I thank God for my lovely flower
For there are millions who are ignorant of her existance,
The enchanting aroma that is with her,
Or her charm that makes me to always keep thinking,
I am fascinated that she was wonderfully made,
Then just kept for me to find one day.
Seeing her is like waking up at dawn to bath in the Sun's rays
She has harmless attraction like a colorful butterfly,
Or a bright flower always sort by the bees for it's beauty,
Not forgetting it's sweet nectar also!
That is my sweet Sweetie.
The flower is far from me and I cannot smell the aroma now,
Last night I went to dreamland where I hoped to find my flower Then I woke up this morning to melodious sounds,
Sounds of chirping birds in the nearby tree as if to praise her,
Thinking about my flower.
I want to tend and care for this flower,
So that she may produce more flowers like herself,
O flower! Remain that lovely forever.
poem by Nyota Yasulwe
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The Slug And The Ladybug
The sad, silly slug said to the lovely ladybug,
“Why are you pretty while I have this ugly mug?
I live under a rock since I don’t have a shell.
Because no one likes me, I don’t feel very well.
I’ll just keep living underneath this dirty stone,
All by myself so sadly alone.
The lovely ladybug shook her head and said,
“Sad, silly slug, get out from that awful, stony bed!
Just remember each of us has a place on this earth.
We’re put here for a reason so each of us has worth.
The one to make you happy has to be yourself,
But you’ve put your best friend on a forgotten shelf.
Start by being proud that you are the best slug you’ll ever see.
Don’t compare yourself to others that you’ll never be.
Love yourself, smile and always be kind.
You’ll be surprised how many friends that you’ll find.”
The sad, silly slug had never thought that way before.
He considered himself only a sad, silly slug and nothing more.
When he looked into the brook and smiled, what did he see?
It was a miracle that changed his face so he said happily,
“This smile has found a home in my once sad, lonely heart.
I’m proud of myself and look to each new day’s start.
I’m now happy with myself and proud to be free.
I’ll work hard to make myself the best that I can be.
Just a note of gratitude from this happy, hopeful slug:
He shouted, “With all my heart, thank you, lovely ladybug! ”
poem by Gregory Huyette
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Tiny Dancer
tiny dancer, dance for me
take away every dream and memory
trick me into believing everything is fine
dance til this rain turns to sunshine
as i watch you in my hand
...heal with with your beautiful dance
tiny dancer take me away
show me the way with your ballet
dance until my heart stops bleeding
kiss these wounds so they'll stop leaking
......now shes in me, always with me, tiny dancer in my hand
she dances with her heart and soul just so i can stand
poem by Tanesha Davenport
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Dancer
Im not invited to the party
Been sitting here all night
Im all alone here at the party
Aint got no black coat
Aint got no tie
I gotta shape up now
You gotto know why
Dancer, dancer
I cant live with it Im gonna die without it
Dancer, dancer
Aint no doubt about it
Dancer, dancer
Why dont you kick off your dancing shoes
And come along with me
Youre the life and soul of the funk-tion
It took me all night
To get hold of the right introduction
Blew me out of sight
I taste your lipstick
I look in your eyes
You feel fantastic
My body cries
(chorus)
(hot space)
Dancer, dancer
I cant believe your dancing
Cant take you home, cant take your dancing
Dancer, dancer, dance the night away
song performed by by Queen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Porcelain Dancer
I opened the music box
And music poured out,
Enchanting me.
Inside the music box
A porcelain dancer
Spun round and round
On her toes.
I lifted a finger
As the music died out
And touched the tiny dancer
She was cold
That tiny dancer
Of porcelain.
poem by Addie Taino
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Races She Beyond Me...
Races she beyond me
Tiny soul of great reverence...
Glides she like grace of wind
A smile from the lips of innocence...
Warm and vibrant...
As the sun and the green.
Charm and grace so feminine
Well carried out in the arms of simplicity...
Oh tiny soul where you embark,
In careless hustle of dreams...
(DEDICATED TO THE LITTLE RAG-PICKER)
poem by Lama Abbas
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The Morning Light
Say hello to the dawn’s arrival
Open your eyes to a brand new day
Lift your head to feel the sun’s blessing
The morning light will show you the way
The morning light will show you the way
Each gentle ray blesses the living
We all reach out for its energy
Its gentle warmth it will caress you
The morning light will show you the way
The morning light will show you the way
For every tree and every flower
That dances in the sun
For children playing in the daytime
And having their fun
For every broken heart that sees the
Light of day
The morning light will show you the way
The morning light will show you the way
Illuminating all that it touches
Brings out the color of the world
Its warmth it gives us good feelings
The morning light will show us the way
The morning light will show us the way
For every tree and every flower
That dances in the sun
For every childhood smile
That touches everyone
For every life that we are given
For every dream realized
The morning sun will show you the way
The morning sun will show you the way
poem by William Lindenmuth
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A little Flower
A flower grew out of the ground
A tiny flower from the dirt
A tiny living soul from underground
A baby crawling from the dirt
A little innocence of wild color
A tiny spark of hope
A tiny pleasure free of charge
A flower that i called my own
A little baby ran towards it
A tiny flower crushed beneath the feet
A little human innocence
A little bliss destroyed by ignorance
A little flower dead on the ground
A little baby jumping up and down
And only me from my own window, witnessed the death of my own flower beneath the feet of blissful child without idea of his first crime...
poem by Dmitriy Kokarev
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Rose
Beside the street there is fragrance
And wave of colours.
Rose plant seller attracts the
Passers-by and travellers.
Ladies and gentlemen collect yellow,
Red, white, violet
Coloured flowers;
To the street people it’s an
Enthusiasm and glamour.
In the hands of silvery bonny
Little girls it goes to the garden;
The perfume rends the firmament
And beautifies
The garden’s creation.
The tiny lovely flower attracts
The million.
She is the glory,
Dignity magnificence of our Nation.
On the head of the Goddess she
Is the attraction;
The poets are unable to depict
The charm and mention.
She is a ‘Beauty Queen’ in the
Creation,
With a little glance the
Tiny rosy cosy flower frees the tension.
poem by Vavroovahana Patra
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The Fall
He fell so gracefully
for a moment it looked liked he meant it.
The fall was perfectly balanced like
the sweep of a dancer's arm in reverence
or the endless curve at the base of a spine
inviting the hand or head to seek asylum.
The fall from grace can be subtle, a flower
following the sun or sudden as the jerk of the rope.
I never learned what caused his fall,
something simple, a mere turn of the screw
or complex as the port de bras.
For me it was the arch of an eyebrow
and blindness in a careless moment.
poem by Ronald Shields
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I Shall Not Be Moved
You will take my breath away,
Gild my heart with your love-
I shall not be moved.
My eyes will gloat at your sashay,
My lips will droll at your pulchritude-
I shall not be moved.
You will come with religions of faiths,
A heap of mountains you have moved-
Still I shall not be moved.
You will give me strongest of philtres,
Your touch will erect my one weakness-
But I shall not be moved.
You will light my darkest paths,
Move me here to there-
Yet I shall not be moved.
You will sing our song,
Your love for me will exceed eternity,
Even then, I shall not be moved.
You will live for me,
Die for me- For the last time-
I shall not be moved.
poem by Isunge Mwangase
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An April Morning
The morning awakes
with a cloudless sky
with the air cool and fresh
that you go outside
and sit a while
in the refreshing air
of an April morning.
The sun greets the morning
with its warming rays
and much promise of a lovely day.
You breathe in deeply
the nectar of life,
of this fresh air
of an April morning.
poem by David Harris
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The May Flower Tree
I was walking lone there,
Where we once had been.
I sought the house we lived in,
In the lush lush green.
Perhaps inmates out, I thought,
As none I could see.
She has been haunting ever,
Where's May Flower Tree?
Looked around and discovered,
Ah! she lost her grace!
Hugged her with my eager hands,
Alone at that place.
Touched her old bark earnestly,
Felt the touch of past.
Childhood cried in deep deep pain,
Days crept in we passed.
Suddenly the tree turned green,
The Sun shone brightly.
I saw the May Flower Tree,
An emblem of Infancy!
poem by Nilakshi Das
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A Poem for Marziyya
Our flower-like children
When sleeping early morning
It looks as if fairies descending from clouds
Are resting on silken bed-sheets
Bright and flowery, adorned by Turkmen
Like angels have come down from heavens
In proper order
Rolling rosaries in their strong hands
Praising the Lords
And sitting in bedroom windows
Guard them
Our flower-like children
When sleeping early morning
It looks as if subservient time
Head lowered, hands clasped, dawdling
Waiting by the bedside for them to wake up
So that colours splash, morning light shows up
Flowers spread perfume
Birds sing
Our flower-like children
When sleeping early morning
High above the shining stars
Lower than the heavens
Where fortune is distributed
Almighty packs piety, truthfulness and success
And on the wings of archangels, sends carved chests
Towards their bedrooms
Our flower-like children
[Translated from Urdu by Masror Hausen]
poem by Muhammad Izhar ul Haq
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Friendship's Flower
Life is like a garden
And friendship like a flower,
That blooms and grows in beauty
With the sunshine and the shower.
And lovely are the blossoms
That are tended with great care,
By those who work unselfishly
To make the place more fair.
And, like the garden blossoms,
Friendship's flower grows more sweet
When watched and tended carefully
By those we know and meet.
And, if the seed of friendship
Is planted deep and true
And watched with understanding,
Friendship's flower will bloom for you.
poem by Winniek Koh
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The Death of Innocence
In covert dim light
A nymphet came
To grace his sight
With her small frame
He caught her scent
And closed his eyes
Felt fleeting movements
Soar him high
And as they kissed
He felt the bliss
Of escalating passion
The night was young
And before long
They'll lock
In emptied satisfaction
With deep desire
He yearned to touch
Her captivating youth
Undressing her
He watched
His lovely prostitute
The streetlight glazed
His eyes went wild
Despaired to see her face,
He saw the death
Of Innocence...
For his date was just
..........A child.
Child prostitution is the most cruel of all crimes as it preys on
an innocent child who cannot defend himself.
--
May 6,2009 Tarlac City Philippines
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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FriendShip Flowers
Life is like a garden
And friendship like a flower,
That blooms and grows in beauty
With the sunshine and the shower.
And lovely are the blossoms
That are tended with great care,
By those who work unselfishly
To make the place more fair.
And, like the garden blossoms,
Friendship's flower grows more sweet
When watched and tended carefully
By those we know and meet.
And, if the seed of friendship
Is planted deep and true
And watched with understanding,
Friendship's flower will bloom for you (
poem by Mazher Sheikh
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Lovely Moon
I watched the Moon iridescent in the sky
The chilly wind of night embracing me
That enchanting orb had captured my eye
As its luminous light shown majestically
Laid on background of deep royal blue
Like fair giant pearl, it is Beauty enthroned
Lining its sides were dancing rainbow hues
The Moon's loveliness no star ever owned.
I watched fascinated, transfixed by the sight
The creation was awesome, so enraptured am I!
I thank the Creator of such magnificent delight
Yes, I watched His Moon iridescent in the sky.
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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