Assault
I
I had forgotten how the frogs must sound
After a year of silence, else I think
I should not so have ventured forth alone
At dusk upon this unfrequented road.
II
I am waylaid by Beauty. Who will walk
Between me and the crying of the frogs?
Oh, savage Beauty, suffer me to pass,
That am a timid woman, on her way
From one house to another!
poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay
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Related quotes
Beauty and the Beast by Meena Mustafa
We all know the story of Beauty and the Beast
Here I was Beauty to some from the East
Who I thought would be my Prince Charming,
not knowing what would come
As he bowed to kiss me,
I knew he was dumb.
I was told I had to kiss many frogs in life
Before Prince Charming came and finally made it right
All I could see were these frogs croaking all the way
I was blind to their liking and wondered every day
May be some day it will happen when I will finally find my man
May be its just destiny, I will try as much as I can…
I am so glad to be out of that story as nothing good I recall
To some I will still be a Beauty, I don't want a beast at all
poem by Meena Mustafa
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I raised frogs every spring in our house from tadpoles and by end of summer our house was overrun with frogs.
quote by William Joyce
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Beauty of a Woman
The beauty of a woman lies in her silence
Rather than her speech
The beauty of a woman lies in her patience
Rather than her inquisitiveness outreach
The beauty of a woman lies in her experience
Rather than her age
The beauty of a woman lies in her veil for awhile
Rather than her face
The beauty of a woman lies in her submission
Rather that her dominance
The beauty of a woman lies in her smile
Rather than her laughter
The beauty of a woman lies in her abode
Rather than her adventure
The beauty of a woman lies in her offspring
Rather than herself ever
The beauty of a woman lies in her heart's spring
Rather than in skin cover
Shashikant Nishant Sharma
(शशिकांत निशांत शर्मा ‘साहिल')
poem by Shashikant Nishant Sharma
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The Oppressed Frog
a frog
who is never given the pond
that he deserves
cannot appreciate
what beauty is,
and the white crane
whose beauty you
adore
who takes frogs
for dinner
of course
shall never be
his goddess
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Beauty Of Silence
The beauty of silence is,
When there are no mistakes
The beauty of silence is,
When there is no time to hate
The beauty of silence is,
When there is nothing to explain
The beauty of silence is,
When there is no time to diminish in pain
Lust for every love
Dreams of entire reverie
Beget the pins & pains
Of lies in the stygian of mind
The beauty of silence is, when there's no one to divulge.
The beauty of silence is, when we see in divergent views.
The beauty of silence is, when there's only you.
poem by Amir Amzah
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The Sound Of The Rain
do not mislead me with the
point-of-view of the frog
you croak and you say this
is how something beautiful
sounds, how ugliness feigns
i tell you i like the rain and
the frog likes it too, i am
one of those frogs bathing
and jumping on the pond,
but do not mislead me with
your sound, it does not sound
like the hush of the wind,
it has no color of the moon,
i am one of the frogs of this
pond, but i do not wish to
sound like you: i am in love
with the sound of the rain,
and this is the one that makes
me stay. It is not you, your
sound is not gentle, it is
rough like the skin of the
teething toad. I love the
rain, the way it sounds,
and that is enough
for my suffering.
Dripping.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Navajo Night Way Ceremony
In beauty may I walk
All day long may I walk
Through the returning seasons may I walk
Beautifully I will possess again
Beautifully birds
Beautifully joyful birds
On the trail marked with pollen may I walk
With grasshoppers about my feet may I walk
With dew about my feet may I walk
With beauty may I walk
With beauty before me may I walk
With beauty behind me may I walk
With beauty above me may I walk
With beauty all around me may I walk
In old age, wandering on a trail of beauty,
lively, may I walk
In old age, wandering on a trail of beauty,
living again, may I walk
It is finished in beauty
It is finished in beauty
poem by Anonymous Americas
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I Walk Down This Road Of Beauty
I WALK DOWN THIS ROAD OF BEAUTY
I walk down this road of Beauty-
Its colors sing inside my mind-
I have a happy life
When I go to pray each morning.
I walk down this road of Beauty
And I am happy inside.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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God is beauty
The beauty of a lady
Spreading love on Internet
The beauty of the first kiss
On the corner of a dark room
The beauty of a crow
Pecking the food into grasses
The beauty of the skins
The beauty of the smile
Of a pretty girl
The beauty of the morning light
The beauty of a queer feeling
Under the shadow of a tree
The beauty of the sparrows
Bathing in the pond
The beauty of the unknowns
The beauty of forgiveness
The beauty of solitude
At a goodbye party
The beauty of a sinking heart
Driving on a steep road
The beauty of a lady
Walking alone
In the park
The beauty of the laughter of a child
The beauty of being loved
The beauty of the pat unexpected
On our shoulder
Saying I am here beside you
The beauty of making love
Early in the morning!
The beauty of the beauty
The beauty of God
The beauty of Jesus
The beauty of Zoroaster
The beauty of Buddha
The beauty of myths
The beauty of goddess
The beauty of you and I!
poem by Framarz Bagheri
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Beauty, Beauty
Beauty, beauty in the light. Beauty, Beauty falling through. How sweet must beauty, beauty be. Beauty, beauty how it's happy. Beauty, beauty in the sky and in the grass. Beauty, beauty in the trees. Beauty, beauty on the ground. Beauty, beauty crawling on the ground. Beauty, beauty always climbing. Beauty, beauty that we are sirrounded by.
poem by Shania K. Younce
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Is There Any Truth in Beauty?
Is there any truth in Beauty?
What of the lies beauty tells thee?
Could my beauty not be as worthy
As I make thy Beauty part of me?
Such is Beauty as to make one's sight loud.
This beauty that veils our sense in a shroud.
beauty: that which deters seeing the person.
Does Beauty not conceal what is and isn't?
Yet merciless time holds beauty as a hostage,
Defiles Beauty and scars it with lasting ravage.
Thus the years that pass send Beauty to its resting-place
For vain beauty will yield, to woefully fall from grace.
If beauty should ever lament on age's cruelty,
Let not Beauty forget how little it has wept for me.
The Beauty Of A Poem
The beauty of a poem
The beauty of music
The beauty of light
The beauty of life
The beauty which makes us want to live life more
The beauty which pains us inside
The beauty in longing.
The beauty we come upon by surprise
The beauty of the day and the beauty of the night
The beauty we all have inside us
The beauty we can see and feel and never explain
The beauty that lifts us up
The beauty that makes us want to live more
The beauty that makes us reach out to God
The beauty we want to thank God for
The beauty of lilacs
The beauty of autumn leaves
The beauty of the people we love
The beauty that pervades life
The beauty that turns away from us
And will not let us be a part of it
The beauty we hold on to fragilely
As a driven leaf
The beauty the beauty the beauty
Oh life oh God of goodness oh death
The beauty we can never see
And the Beauty within us all
Oh God
The Beauty in us and Beyond us all.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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In Priaise Of Idleness...
i sit on the stair
to see the world
to follow the flight of a bird
and appreciate the beauty of its song
in my imagination
i listen to the rain
observe its heavy downpour
i am passive
i do not run away
to chase a bird
i do not go out the house
and bathe under the rain
i do not destroy the
placement of the grasses on the lawn
i do not cut the stalk of the daisy
and bring it home
i hear the frogs croaking
excited to their games
jumping and swimming
on that greenish pool
i stay on the porch
lean upon a wall
i listen to the wind
i let the hours pass
i do nothing...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Woman's Beauty
The beauty of a woman
Is not determined by a man
Her beauty can be found in her grace
Not just the beauty of her face
It can be found in her style
It can also be found in her smile
Her beauty is in her thoughts
Not just what she has been taught
It can also be found in her soul
It cannot go untold
Her beauty is within her
She does not need to lure
Anyone, because her presence
It is her whole essence
A woman’s beauty is in her heart
Her beauty is her art
I am in full dream
Long long miles away from you
Under the open deep blue sky
Besides the ever flowing river
I stand alone, and feel very lonely
My heart and mind is open to listen
The mystic music of nature deeply
the sound of the cricket seems to me
is the best, sweeter of the sweetest
Blowing of the wind is very soothing
The firefly dances with the singing
Of the birds, and the golden sun adds
Some colours, the call of the fox is like
Beating of the drums, the occasional sound
Of the frogs in the water is thrilling enough,
the his his sound of leaves raises my hairs
the queen, night, comes in along with moon light
I swallow the beauty with delight.
I wanted to share with you, ah! I miss you very much,
The worries of my life crowded out but your memories crowded in
now I am in full dream along with your memories mingled
with the beauty of the moon.
poem by Abdul Wahab
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Apple for a prince
Nice apples can be red and often green
and sometimes something in between
Frogs are nearly always green
Soon you'll see what I mean
I took a bite and now the worse
as this apple had a curse
Im now a frog with little chance
of finding my desired romance
Sunlight came and sunlight go
Poor frog doesnt know
To lift the curse he needs a kiss
Can a princess take a risk
Ill try and reach her from the ground
Maybe she'll hear my croaking sound
Please be kind to frogs you see
As the one you spot may be me
poem by Alan Draper
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Though boys throw stones at frogs in sport, the frogs do not die in sport, but in earnest.
What a Beauty-Full Life
Beauty is in flowers, and the petals
Bathing in the early morning dew
Beauty is in the eyes of a father
When his son takes the first step
Beauty is on the face of a baby,
Sleeping in mother's lap
Beauty is in freedom,
When you fly high on the wings of hope
Beauty is in the expressions of a poor man
When he gets food after eternity
Beauty is in the pride of a teacher
When his student supersedes
Beauty is in the compassion of a devotee
When he finds solace
Beauty is in the innocence of a child
When he asks you questions
Beauty is in the sips of laughter,
You share with your friends
Beauty is in the springs of desire
that arrive after a prolonged autumn
Beauty is in the cry of a woman,
Whose womb succeeds
Beauty is in the silence,
When you don't speak, and you say a lot
Beauty is in the warmth of passion
That builds around the arms of a lover
Beauty is when those small fights,
End with tears of joy
Beauty is when the first raindrop,
Kisses your cheek
Beauty is in perseverance,
When the world's showing off
Beauty is in the enigma,
When everything's certain
Beauty is in a poem,
Where poetry meets prose
Beauty is in little chunks of life,
Filled with joys and sorrows
Beauty is in your eyes,
your heart, and in every single breath
Beauty is when you say,
"What a Beauty-Full Life..."
poem by Piyush Kaushal
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The Wavering Grain
Just as smoke from the fire
rises to the canopy of pine,
my eyes believe,
'thine beauty is mine.'
Observing the embers,
as they flash and die.
Through the air,
so clear and fine.
My eyes conceive.
'thine beauty is mine.'
These sights alone,
have led me to the road,
covered in gravel,
isolated in it's own
Walking past the house of the owner,
down to the river,
I studder.
For even in darkness,
a cerulean sky is above.
With a snowflake shape light,
made with stars through the night.
Gazing upon further,
a shooting star,
then,
no longer.
Like a flicker,
through a shutter,
until I have come to find,
tis not divine,
'thine beauty is mine'
And on my path back home,
a road tempts me,
but not my own.
And it sounds as if, or nay,
that the sound of life
has refrained from it today.
But I choose not to go,
for thine beauty is mine
and this night has allowed it to be so.
Plain and plentiful,
the wavering grain.
Breathes and recedes.
Through morning dew,
summer heat,
and magenta sky.
-
As dusk approaches-
its breathing subsides,
but it does not die.
For like I,
the grain,
plain and plentiful,
finds solace
in the night sky.
poem by Joseph Ostapiuk
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Beauty In The Woman
Perched, dropped, flipped
Sounds of the day
Sounds of the woman in colors
In beauty she crops
In beauty she counts
While beauty in her eye
Is blonde, scorch, gloomy
Drunkard in spots hit
Is a woman with beauty
Her face, agolden facet
Beauty in the woman
Craves no murmurs, calm she comes
Head on the valley of green
of saltless
Speechless and never smiling
Like adog
Beauty in the woman
Loving she is born
Caring she spoils in a reborn
While dragging in no wars
such afamily of fame
Only lives in her
poem by Paul Mwenelupembe
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