En.Citatepedia^®.ro

A Vase Built With Love

For Melvina Germain
Who suggested I write something about a simple vase.

A vase stood on the mantle piece
and two red roses within it stood
one for each heart for whom the vase belonged.
A century before on a potter’s wheel
the vase was carefully crafted by two loving hands
then fired in an oven to keep the love within.
It was then decorated with the same loving care.
The images on it told a story
of two lovers parted by a war.
It told how they had met down a leafy lane
and how their love had grown.
Then came the thunder of an approaching war.
It recorded their last kiss together
before the war tore them apart.
It also told of the years of agony
of waiting for his return,
then of the joys of reuniting,
and how after so long
their love began again to burn.
All this lovingly painted
so everyone could learn
that love never diminishes
even when separated by a war.

18 October 2008

poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

A vase of flowers

I saw a vase of purple-pink roses
lying on your dark brown buffet
and simply had to have it.

“Who painted this, ” I immediately enquired
loving the picture more with each look
that I took of it
as it’s not your thing
to paint still life’s with flowers.

“I painted it. It’s like painting pillow slips, ”
you replied and astonished
I looked at it again
and this was on board
and not in water colours
but done with oil paint.

The folds of the cups were edged
in ridges along their lines
using the techniques
of your abstract paintings
and one smaller unopened bud
laid next to the bowl
almost running into your name.

Little pink flowers was in the background
where the transparent vase with green stems
was against the wall on a tiled floor.

[Reference: Vase with roses by Mandi Engelbrecht. (This painting belongs to me.) ]

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Flowers In A Vase

A bunch of flowers
Sat in a vase
Colourful and lonely
A mind looks at them
Wondering
What is it they have to say
Are they a thank you
Or a gift of love
Are they an apology
Or given in remorse
Perhaps they are for nothing
Given to bring a smile
The mind looks on
Wondering for a while
The flowers sit in their vase
Unmoved by thought
Or the reason given to them
A little water at their base
To keep them fresh for a while
They are the end of the day
Just flowers in a vase

poem by Matthew Holloway
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

bottom of the stairs
red red roses in a vase
I srace to the top
red red roses in a vase
seem to get there before me

tanka by Dónall Dempsey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Red Roses In A Vase

Red roses in a vase
for you on Valentines Day.
One rose for every year
you’ve known one another
and your love has grown.
Now if you counted them
how many would you get?

13 February 2008

poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

0075 The Connoisseur

Do come in. I’m so glad that you came –
it’s good to have someone to
share one’s pleasures and delights with.
Some of my family think I’m
some sort of misanthrope, hiding away
with my collection of Chinese porcelain…

I tell them, it’s the opposite – I feel that
I’m in touch with the finest work of
contented men, creating some sort of memory of
perfection, for others to enjoy – I guess
you feel the same way about those poems
you write? Now –

your hands are clean? Not because of
this celadon Sung vase, let’s start with that –
but I’d like you to feel the outer layer
of skin on your fingertips touching
the surface of the vase and yet
not quite touching, feeling
the air between – silk on silk,
almost – I was going to say, the skin of
a young girl’s cheek greeting
another young girl’s cheek, but that wouldn’t
sound quite right – you must have
the same problems, with choosing just the right
similes and metaphors, that are
thrilling without being ‘clever’?

I don’t want to be pretentious about
all this – just feel the surface: not matt,
not shiny, the colour not bright, not blatant,
but not in hiding – and see
how the potter takes the vase’s curves and contours
from neck to belly, like a yacht,
like a horseman, like a lover – put
this vase in a room to itself and its stillness
fills the room with presence…

they talk a lot of nonsense about
connoisseurship – it’s just loving what
is fine, and long reflected over, and
as human an activity as can be. You meet
the maker in the art. And yes,
there are other connoisseurs who
love the roughness of a cracked, irregular
Japanese tea-cup, a one-off from a woodman’s kiln…

I expect you feel just the same
about poetry? How fortunate
we are, you and I..

poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Heart Is A Vase

A heart is a vase
Love is a flower we put in the vase
Passion is the water for the flower
But romance, respect, trust, and commitment
Is the sunshine that makes the flower bloom

(2011)

poem by Michael Ernst
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Blue Vase

Sit my love on this cliff
Shall we watch the ships sail
They sail like stars in the vast night
Flux of change like a shimmering sea
We meet in the hungry wind
Fragrance of peonies and bluebills

Now the west wind blows
Will you follow your heart?
Am I a secret constellation?
Are we driftwood going back to sea?
Harmonize with a vase of sorrow
A blue vase filled with lovers never to be

poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Should Never Have Told Me

You should have never told me
That you love me
You should have never told me, told me, told me
That you care
Ever since that day I saw your lovely face
You were on my mind
I knew that one day I would make you love me
It was just a matter of time
Every night and every day, girl
Im thinking of you
Girl, I cant believe youre mine
Way you kiss, youre right on time
Should have never told me
That you love me
You should have never told me, told me, told me
That you care
If by chance I owned the whole world
Id give it to you
All im trying to say
Love you through and through
Girl, lets stay together for life
cause you are my sugar and spice
Should have never told me
That you love me
You should have never told me, told me, told me
That you care
Naw, baby
Oh, baby
Should have never told me
That you love me
Should have never told me, told me, told me
That you care
Should have never told me
That you love me
Should have never told me, told me, told me
That you care
Should have never told me
That you love me

song performed by by New Edition
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Should Have Never Told Me

You should have never told me
That you love me
You should have never told me, told me, told me
That you care
Ever since that day I saw your lovely face
You were on my mind
I knew that one day I would make you love me
It was just a matter of time
Every night and every day, girl
Im thinking of you
Girl, I cant believe youre mine
Way you kiss, youre right on time
Should have never told me
That you love me
You should have never told me, told me, told me
That you care
If by chance I owned the whole world
Id give it to you
All Im trying to say
Love you through and through
Girl, lets stay together for life
cause you are my sugar and spice
Should have never told me
That you love me
You should have never told me, told me, told me
That you care
Naw, baby
Oh, baby
Should have never told me
That you love me
Should have never told me, told me, told me
That you care
Should have never told me
That you love me
Should have never told me, told me, told me
That you care
Should have never told me
That you love me

song performed by by New Edition
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

0009 Persian vase, Persian thoughts

As you enter this quiet and peaceful sunlit room,
it seems at first all space; but then your eye
- as is intended – straightway drawn
to that fine Persian vase which sits
upon an old oak chest, its lid, polished
with the wax of love and years,
a crack across it somehow speaking
of trials borne and overcome;
the tale of life, of time, of history, of lessons learnt.

The chest – it’s cedar lined, as aromatic as memory
when the lid is opened – does not now hold,
as when it was first carpentered, a bridal trousseau;
a girl given with fine clothes to destiny -
now, precious family documents
that tell of rights and duties, high positions
and their responsibilities, once held;
past, present and future, public life and private,
aromatic in the memory.

The vase is cool and vivid, curls of blue and white;
a cobalt blue, the colour of far-seeing beauty –
the surface colour seen in deepest sea;
the colour which the upper air, in flight,
seems to yearn for; as if we look
into the vase and through it and beyond it;
the white’s so white, it speaks of purity;
and here are touches of an emerald green
which sets off both, as if jewelled thoughts
are never far away from golden minds

I am the potter, speak that vase:
I am the eye that draws your eye,
I am the beauty that may touch your heart;
and to your mind, I bring the thought –
I too was born of dust, of clay and precious water,
decorated with a potter’s love;
one day I shall, by that accident which reigns
in life that passes, be broken into pieces
and return to dust…
you and I, our past is dust, our future dust –
but oh, the beauty of the present that’s eternal,
the joyous dancing of the here and now…
cobalt blue like sea and sky, innocent as white,
emerald as green fields fresh diamonded with dew..

poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Vase

the vase where
your flower is put
is filled with
mosquitoes

do you still want to
put it there?

in this lousy metaphor
my body is the vase.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Zen and the art of plastic flower maintenance

From time to time, when
I’ve been meditating, and
these things matter, I pick respectfully
the plastic flowers from their vase,
wash the vase, wipe the dust
off the leaves with a moist cloth,
dip the flower-heads in water
as one would give someone
a holy bath

and then replace them in
a slightly new position in the vase,
a slightly new position on the table.

absurdity and
something beautiful
have met and got along together rather well.

poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Consuming jealousy

I am jealous of the air you breathe,

of the soap that cleanses your body,

I am jealous of the rain that pours on

your face, and the sun that warms your

winter days, I am jealous of the way

you love the flowers and the vase they

wear, I am jealous of the sheets your

bed wears, that can touch every part

of your body, I am jealous of the mirror

that sees your face every morning day

and night. I am jealous yes I am, even

when you let my winds fly free and they

traveled to many seas, I am still there

facing my awe, consuming my flesh,

and my body speaking a language I can't

even comprehend, like a dark rose, that

lies on an empty vase, what do you do?

when the live you had, is gone and the

one you were living for, what is

there left? where do you go, what

doctor can cure the injured heart, doctor

love is just a tale, there's no cure for

the injured heart, nor there is for an

empty vase.

poem by Elenushka Toledo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me

Hold me, hold me
Never let me go until youve told me, told me
What I want to know and then just hold me, hold me
Make me tell you Im in love with you
Thrill me, thrill me
Walk me down the lane where shadows will be, will be
Hiding lovers just the same as well be, well be
When you make me tell you I love you
They told me be sensible with your new love
Dont be fooled thinking this is the last youll find
But they never stood in the dark with you love
When you take me in your arms and drive me slowly
Out of my mind
Kiss me, kiss me
And when you do Ill know that you will miss me, miss me
If we ever say I do, so kiss me, kiss me
Make me tell you Im in love with you
Kiss me, kiss me
And when you do Ill know that you will miss me, miss me
If we ever say I do, so kiss me, kiss me
Make me tell you Im in love with you
Never, never, never let me go

song performed by by Gloria Estefan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Farewell! -- But Whenever You Welcome the Hour

Farewell! but whenever you welcome the hour
That awakens the night-song of mirth in your bower,
Then think of the friend who once welcomed it too,
And forgot his own griefs to be happy with you.
His griefs may return, not a hope may remain
Of the few that have brighten'd his pathway of pain,
But he ne'er will forget the short vision, that threw
Its enchantment around him, while lingering with you.

And still on that evening, when pleasure fills up
To the highest top sparkle each heart and each cup,
Where'er my path lies, be it gloomy or bright,
My soul, happy friends, shall be with you that night;
Shall join in your revels, your sports, and your wiles,
And return to me, beaming all o'er with your smiles --
Too blest, if it tells me that, 'mid the gay cheer,
Some kind voice has murmur'd, "I wish he were here!"

Let Fate do her worst, there are relics of joy,
Bright dreams of the past, which she cannot destroy;
Which come in the night-time of sorrow and care,
And bring back the features that joy used to wear.
Long, long be my heart with such memories fill'd!
Like the vase, in which roses have once been distill'd --
You may break, you may shatter the vase, if you will,
But the scent of the roses will hang round it still.

poem by Thomas Moore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

A Numbered Poem

2. the mantle is heavy in white.
3. the white cup is not fuming.
4. the lover does not come tonight.
5. an empty vase keeps a shallow
6. conversation with the black clock.
7. there is no flower to brighten
8. the night without a tryst.
9. it is the black clock that ticks
10. time.It is this lament. A cup
11. without tea. A vase without
12. a rose, a daffodil, a white lily.
13. the black clock ticks. There
14. is no hint that it will stop.

That big shell knows it all.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

0068 The Connoisseur (2)

Is there a god
sleeping in this room?

even the doorhandle, gently turned,
seems to speak a message
before the room entered, the first breath taken
of the room’s own air

and on the table, the grey-green vase seems
to be the host; the silent messenger: the furniture
somehow eternal in its order; every line and curve
within the room speaking of some
divine geometry; the shaded sunlight seems
to fall on tiptoe, touch in silent praise;
the air, to be refined; and the silence –
what does the silence say unspoken

as if it holds some god-smiled word,
some solemn laughter, about what
is there and is not there, has made
of this room, this ordinary room,
a shrine where one can worship without form
oneself?

the vase too holds itself both
open and reserved; its perfect curves
the subtle decisions of a history
of centuries, of generations
of human hands; of things made
for oneself, for others, for all else
where all else is known;

silent the vase; the room full of its sound.
Is there a god
sleeping in this room?

you; moving forward with respectful quiet step
to touch this grey-green
Chinese vase

poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Sonnet XCV: The Vase of Life

Around the vase of Life at your slow pace
He has not crept, but turned it with his hands,
And all its sides already understands.
There, girt, one breathes alert for some great race;
Whose road runs far by sands and fruitful space;
Who laughs, yet through the jolly throng has pass'd;
Who weeps, nor stays for weeping; who at last,
A youth, stands somewhere crowned, with silent face.
And he has filled this vase with wine for blood,
With blood for tears, with spice for burning vow,
With watered flowers for buried love most fit;
And would have cast it shattered to the flood,
Yet in Fate's name has kept it whole; which now
Stands empty till his ashes fall in it.

poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Have I Ever?

Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?
How your beauty outshines the brightest of stars?
How I love that twinkle that sparks in your eye
How the world can brighten when you smile

Have I ever told you how wonderful you are?
How everything about you is as perfect as is
That nothing compares to the sight of you
You are more beautiful than I can ever describe

A compliment to your body...
Most fine and curled like a vase
A compliment to your personality
So gentle and kind with grace

You are a princess and the queen of my heart
You are the best that ever came into my arms
Only God can be thanked for the pleasure of knowing you
Thank you for your friendship and just being you

You are beautiful just as you are
And more beautiful than any star
You are perfect as just the way you are
So shine more brightly than any star

poem by Hafeni Nghidinua
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

I Told A Lie To My Heart

Recorded by: hank williams, sr.
Writer: hank williams, sr.
Capo: 1st fret/key: eb/play: d
[d] I told my [a] heart I didnt love [d] you
That [g] Id be happy if wed [d] part
But [g] now I know I was mis-[d] taken
[a] I told a lie to my [d] heart.
I [g] told my heart I didnt [d] love you
Now well forever be a-[a] part
[g] lonely years of tears and [d] sorrow
[a] I told a lie to my [d] heart.
[d] if we [a] sin somehow we [d] pay
And [g] now the bitter teardrops [d] start
[g] I must learn to live with-[d] out you
[a] I told a lie to my [d] heart.
I [g] told my heart I didnt [d] love you
That Id be happy if wed [a] part
[g] lonely years of tears and [d] sorrow
[a] I told a lie to my [d] heart.

song performed by by Hank Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!