Precious to Me—She still shall be
727
Precious to Me—She still shall be—
Though She forget the name I bear—
The fashion of the Gown I wear—
The very Color of My Hair—
So like the Meadows—now—
I dared to show a Tress of Theirs
If haply—She might not despise
A Buttercup's Array—
I know the Whole—obscures the Part—
The fraction—that appeased the Heart
Till Number's Empery—
Remembered—as the Millner's flower
When Summer's Everlasting Dower—
Confronts the dazzled Bee.
poem by Emily Dickinson
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It will be Summer—eventually
342
It will be Summer—eventually.
Ladies—with parasols—
Sauntering Gentlemen—with Canes—
And little Girls—with Dolls—
Will tint the pallid landscape—
As 'twere a bright Bouquet—
Thro' drifted deep, in Parian—
The Village lies—today—
The Lilacs—bending many a year—
Will sway with purple load—
The Bees—will not despise the tune—
Their Forefathers—have hummed—
The Wild Rose—redden in the Bog—
The Aster—on the Hill
Her everlasting fashion—set—
And Covenant Gentians—frill—
Till Summer folds her miracle—
As Women—do—their Gown—
Of Priests—adjust the Symbols—
When Sacrament—is done—
poem by Emily Dickinson
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Envy Exposed
Green with Envy does not describe
The color worn by this foul Sin
For green is the color of living things
An Envious Heart has no life therein
The color Blue for Envy will not do
Blue is the sky where freedom sings
In skies so many dreams take flight
An Envious Heart has no wings
Envy cannot dress in Yellow or Gold
The warm colors of the life giving Sun
An Envious Heart is so bitterly cold
With no joie de vivre for all of life’s fun
Envy dare not wear any shade of Red
A color so linked to precious bloodshed
Blood is sacred not to be wantonly shed
An Envious Heart would bleed others till dead
Purple is the color of Passionate fire
An Envious Heart knows only Hate’s ire
Pink is a color where innocent youth may abide
An Envious Heart is tired and shriveled inside
Nor can Envy ‘s color be Black as night
For the star filled night is laced with light
Envy won’t wear Purity’s symbolic White
An Envious Heart does not own such a right
Envy cannot even lay its claim to Grey
(Muddled mix of color though be as it may)
Grey is the color of softness seen
An Envious Heart is hard and mean
What Envy wears best is Invisibility
So denuded of Soul none would wish to see
No color born of Heaven will suit it well
An Envious Heart will be naked in Hell
poem by Mary Havran
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La Derniere Robe De Soi
OH, silken gown, all pink and pretty,
Bought, quite a bargain, in the City,
Your ill-trained soul full false has played me--
No Paris gown would have betrayed me.
You knew, my pretty silken treasure,
I must not wed for love or pleasure,
But for a settlement and title;
Yet you encouraged his recital!
He said--oh, faithless gown, you listened
While on your sheen two tear drops glistened--
He said . . . let love to music set it,
I'll never speak it--nor forget it!
'No, no!' I cried, I tried to save you--
False gown, you showed the tears I gave you!
You looked discreet when first I found you.
How could you let his arm go round you?
You darling dress--I'll smooth your creases,
I'll wear you till you drop to pieces;
But poor men's wives wear cotton only--
Dear gown--I hope you won't feel lonely!
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Buttercup
This morning there’s blankness in my mind,
which is quite unusual for me to find.
The creative process has all but dried up,
but then I thought of a buttercup.
A buttercup comes to mind with a golden glow,
as though kissed by sunlight for a special show.
As children we placed a buttercup under our chin
and were amazed by its reflection onto our skin.
It was said that if a bright yellow glow was seen,
you preferred butter on your bread to margarine.
A child’s way of passing a warm summer’s day,
as you sat on the grass letting time slip away.
poem by Orlando Belo
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The Shroud
Death, I say, my heart is bowed
Unto thine,—O mother!
This red gown will make a shroud
Good as any other!
(I, that would not wait to wear
My own bridal things,
In a dress dark as my hair
Made my answerings.
I, to-night, that till he came
Could not, could not wait,
In a gown as bright as flame
Held for them the gate. )
Death, I say, my heart is bowed
Unto thine,—O mother!
This red gown will make a shroud
Good as any other!
poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay
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The Red Dress
I always saw, I always said
If I were grown and free,
I'd have a gown of reddest red
As fine as you could see,
To wear out walking, sleek and slow,
Upon a Summer day,
And there'd be one to see me so
And flip the world away.
And he would be a gallant one,
With stars behind his eyes,
And hair like metal in the sun,
And lips too warm for lies.
I always saw us, gay and good,
High honored in the town.
Now I am grown to womanhood....
I have the silly gown.
poem by Dorothy Parker
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A Beautiful Flower
I have a flower, Yes I have picked a beautiful flower,
One with greatest strength like a tree with mightiness and power,
Power of faith beyond any measure,
Yet precious and few like a beautiful treasure.
How precious its love it shares,
How very precious sweet and rare.
Easily lost as colors are tossed on the tides,
For those who tend to set it aside.
Beauty beyond their eye’s is what I have gained as a prize,
And keeping it, is what makes my heart so wise.
It may seem like neglect on their part,
But neglect has not been the wish of their heart.
Why so often many are in a rush,
The beauty of this flower is often a hush.
I praise my flower for its humbleness,
Staying that way always brings forth its beautifulness.
Yes my flower that I have I would gladly share,
To those who appreciate my gift that is rare.
This flower is a gift and I will tell you why,
Because its known for its beauty that will never die.
For if my flower and me ever depart,
The beauty of it will always be found in my heart.
Yes I have a flower, a beautiful flower to name,
It would have to be beautiful,
it would have to meet its beauty inside and out the same.
For that isn’t hard to do, Why you don’t even need a clue,
For I could have never have picked a better you,
My Dear Friend (put name here)….. Its true.
A name, that’s beautiful as you.
poem by Esther Ayala
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12 Roses I Need To Say
I grab a rose that is number one
To show you that it is for fun
To have a girl that you can always have fun with
Not only someone to love but a friend also
To hang out and laugh
One is for fun
I grab a rose that is number two
To show you that it is so true
True love that is
True everything and much more
Nothing but true happiness
Two is for true
I grab a rose that is number three
To show you that it is for me
What you did to me
To show me I can smile
To make my heart beat again
Three is for me
I grab a rose that is number four
To show you that it is for more
Everyday the feelings don’t stop
More good things come every time we see each other
Everyday I love you more and more
Four is for more
I grab a rose that is number five
To show you it is for alive
I feel alive again
I do not spend my days being down
I spend them thinking of you
Five is for alive
I grab a rose that is number six
To show you that it is for fix
No matter what happens
We can fix it because our love
Is stronger then anger
Six is for fix
I grab a rose that is number seven
To show you that it is for heaven
You are like an angel from heaven
You make my world feel like heaven
You mean everything to me
Seven is for heaven
I grab a rose that is number eight
To show you that it is for date
The day I first laid eyes on you
The date I will not forget
The day my face smiled
Eight is for date
I grab a rose that is number nine
To show you that it is for shine
You shine in everyway
When you smile my day is happy
When you hold me I am at ease
Nine is for shine
I grab a rose that is number ten
To show you that it is for when
Like I am happy WHEN I hold you
I am happy WHEN I miss you
When I miss you I can’t wait WHEN I see you next
Ten is for when
I grab a rose that is number eleven
To show you that it is for seven
Seven days a week
I will work for it till the future comes
When I can see you every one of these days
Eleven is for seven
I grab a rose that is number twelve
To show you that it is for…you know what?
poem by Paul Celano
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Till The Day I Die
(coverdale)
When ice cold winds of winter
Chill me to the bone,
An thoughts of summer breezes
Turn my heart to stone
Thats when I need a hand to guide me,
When its more than I can bear
A shoulder I can cry on,
Someone to lead me there
An give me love,
Give me love,
Give me love
Till the day I die,
Till the day I die
Slowly I awaken
To the weavers plan for me,
To drift upon the waters
Of my own uncertainty,
To look for a companion
Who will share my destiny,
A guiding hand to understand
An walk to road with me
An give me love,
Give me love,
Give me love
Till the day I die,
Till the day I die
I wanna be the master of my destiny,
I never wanna crawl an beg for no sympathy,
When everything I have is yours,
An all I ask of you
Is give me love.
Give me love,
Give me love
Till the day I die,
Till the day I die
I never wanna be the first
To show Im down,
But, Im never gonna wear the frozen smile of a clown
When everything I have is yours
And all I ask of you
Is give me love
Give me love,
Give me love
Till the day I die,
Till the day I die
Give me love,
Give me love,
Give me love.
Till the day I die
Give me love,
Give me love,
Give me love.
Till the day I die
Till the day I die...
song performed by by Whitesnake
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I am ashamed—I hide
473
I am ashamed—I hide—
What right have I—to be a Bride—
So late a Dowerless Girl—
Nowhere to hide my dazzled Face—
No one to teach me that new Grace—
Nor introduce—my Soul—
Me to adorn—How—tell—
Trinket—to make Me beautiful—
Fabrics of Cashmere—
Never a Gown of Dun—more—
Raiment instead—of Pompadour—
For Me—My soul—to wear—
Fingers—to frame my Round Hair
Oval—as Feudal Ladies wore—
Far Fashions—Fair—
Skill to hold my Brow like an Earl—
Plead—like a Whippoorwill—
Prove—like a Pearl—
Then, for Character—
Fashion My Spirit quaint—white—
Quick—like a Liquor—
Gay—like Light—
Bring Me my best Pride—
No more ashamed—
No more to hide—
Meek—let it be—too proud—for Pride—
Baptized—this Day—a Bride—
poem by Emily Dickinson
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First Robin
I dreaded that first robin so,
But he is mastered now,
And I'm accustomed to him grown,--
He hurts a little, though.
I thought if I could only live
Till that first shout got by,
Not all pianos in the woods
Had power to mangle me.
I dared not meet the daffodils,
For fear their yellow gown
Would pierce me with a fashion
So foreign to my own.
I wished the grass would hurry,
So when 't was time to see,
He'd be too tall, the tallest one
Could stretch to look at me.
I could not bear the bees should come,
I wished they'd stay away
In those dim countries where they go:
What word had they for me?
They're here, though; not a creature failed,
No blossom stayed away
In gentle deference to me,
The Queen of Calvary.
Each one salutes me as he goes,
And I my childish plumes
Lift, in bereaved acknowledgment
Of their unthinking drums.
poem by Emily Dickinson
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A Wing And A Prayer
I heard someone talking
about kids and what they wear.
They said they walk about these days
wearing nothing but a wing and a prayer.
I smiled to myself at that remark
because it was obviously they had forgot
about the clothes they used to wear.
So before we are quick to condemn
lets take a trip down memory lane,
back to the clothes we used to wear
when we were that age
and to the designs that were all the rage.
Suppose we go back to the sixties
now that was a good time,
the Mods and the Rockers,
scooters and motorbikes,
not to forget Flower Power.
Oh, yes I remember it well.
The drainpipe trousers,
sitting in the bath
to shrink the jeans down,
not forgetting the holy vest and long hair,
brothel creepers and winkle picker shoes,
and that was just the boys.
What about the girls with their skirts?
There was the maxi, the mini and the micro,
the latter once described as nothing more than a long scarf.
So before we condemn the youngsters today
for going around with nothing but a wing and a prayer, l
et us not forget what we used to wear.
I can remember my parents saying
your showing your knee
now that is so shocking.
Today people look at youngsters
saying it wasn’t like that in my day.
Don’t you believe it,
we were just as bad,
and we were just as crazy as kids today.
When it came to our clothes,
we have no right to condemn
for whatever they wear.
We were just the same at their age,
we used to wear
nothing more than a wing and a prayer.
We called it Fashion
way, way back then,
the same as they call it now.
poem by David Harris
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Pomagrantes fruit
Pomagrantes
Redish purple
The color of elegance
Also passion
Never out dated
Classic
Timeless
A statement of fashion
Never overbearing
No need to fraction
So sweet.to taste
Brings satisfaction
poem by Angel A. Lockwood
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A Flower of Cactus
You could not ask for,
And I dared not offer you,
the small inglorious flower of cactus.
Instead I brought you tulips and roses,
to fill our lives with transient happiness.
In the darkness we hid our face.
Thus passed years,
Times we shed silent tears,
For having not dared the most precious -
A small inglorious flower of cactus!
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
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Sweet Flora
Sweet Flora
Lovers flit from flower to flower
ignoring flora's lusty dower.
So, there she would wait, a lovely sight
wishing for her lover to alight
and spread her seed with April showers.
She watches from her lofty bower
as Spring succumbs to Summer's power.
but sees no messengers in their flight.
As Summer's sun begins to cower
sweet Flora does mourn her endless plight.
She dreams of Autum's belated knight
arriving at the perfect hour
to stroke the nub within her flower
with fluttering wings that can excite
bringing her joy and complete delight.
As Autumn departs without a fight
her lover arrived upon the site
where love did wait and love did scour
for one to bare her lusty dower
His heart was so sad, he felt contrite.
Her lovely petals were once so bright;
body wilted and scent devoured
as he sought natures perfect flower.
But, he was too late to be her knight;
sweet Flora did die from Winter's bite.
©2008 Dawn Slanker
poem by Dawn Slanker
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(For Dónall) A Summer Day - To Dónall on his Birthday
It was a summer's day when we first met
the memories are clear - I won't forget -
traffic noise, new faces, beer and sweat -
that summer day when you and I first met.
The kilt you wore - it played its part that summer day
your naked knee on mine, I felt your strength and knew
though we sat down as strangers, my compass was reset
I could not bear to say goodbye to you.
That summer day we met, a year ago
in love we lay, in love we have remained
together we are free and both do know
in loving touch our love will be maintained.
We met amid banality and yet
we kissed and changed our courses - compasses reset
the memories are clear – I never will forget
that summer’s day when you and I first met.
poem by Janice Windle
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I Can Love You Like That
(steve diamond/maribeth derry/jennifer kimball)
They read you cinderella
You hoped it would come true
That one day your prince charming
Would come rescue you
You like romantic movies
You never will forget
The way you felt when romeo kissed juliet
All this time that youve been waiting
You dont have to wait no more
I can love you like that
I would make you my world
Move heaven and earth if you were my girl
I will give you my heart
Be all that you need
Show you youre everything thats precious to me
If you give me a chance
I can love you like that
I never make a promise I dont intend to keep
So when I say forever, forevers what I mean
Im no casanova but I swear this much is true
Ill be holdin nothin back when it comes to you
You dream of love thats everlasting
Well baby open up your eyes
I can love you like that
I would make you my world
Move heaven and earth if you were my girl
I will give you my heart
Be all that you need
Show you youre everything thats precious to me
If you give me a chance
I can love you like that
You want tenderness-i got tenderness
And I see through to the heart of you
If you want a man who understands
You dont have to look very far
I can love you
I can
I can love you like that
I would make you my world
Move heaven and earth if you were my girl
I will give you my heart
Be all that you need
Show you youre everything thats precious to me
I can love you like that
I would make you my world
Move heaven and earth if you were my girl
I will give you my heart
Be all that you need
Show you youre everything thats precious to me
I can love you like that
I would make you my world
Move heaven and earth if you were my girl
song performed by by John Michael Montgomery
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In My Fashion
In my fashion I have been a good man
I have loved and I have lost
Ever after I will be remembered
In my fashion, in my way
There have been times, I have seen the reaper
In the bad times, and in the good
I have bent down, I have touched the ground
Saying prayers and touching wood
In my fashion, I have been a father
I have loved and been loved in return
From the ashes, I have kept the homefires
Burning after all was said and done
Now take a look at me
Do I look like the kind of guy
The kinda fool who went to school
And had to stand on a stool,
Because he couldnt come t terms with a slide rule
Take a look around again
Is it any different now than it was then
In my fashion I have been a good man
I have loved and I have lost
And ever after I will be remembered
In my fashion, in my way
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Doubt Me! My Dim Companion!
275
Doubt Me! My Dim Companion!
Why, God, would be content
With but a fraction of the Life—
Poured thee, without a stint—
The whole of me—forever—
What more the Woman can,
Say quick, that I may dower thee
With last Delight I own!
It cannot be my Spirit—
For that was thine, before—
I ceded all of Dust I knew—
What Opulence the more
Had I—a freckled Maiden,
Whose farthest of Degree,
Was—that she might—
Some distant Heaven,
Dwell timidly, with thee!
Sift her, from Brow to Barefoot!
Strain till your last Surmise—
Drop, like a Tapestry, away,
Before the Fire's Eyes—
Winnow her finest fondness—
But hallow just the snow
Intact, in Everlasting flake—
Oh, Caviler, for you!
poem by Emily Dickinson
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Pain Of Losing You
I’m going through the pain of losing you
It’s a pain I can not bear
I always had your love, with you
That I could share.
So many memories that flash through my mind
Of all those precious moments and all the beautiful times.
Of walking down the street holding each others hand
Smiling with each other, and the future that we planned.
Sitting in the park till the moment that it got dark
Then looking up to the sky, and trying to count the stars.
When looking in your eyes, I felt like I was floating
High in the sky with all the stars above
Searching every star for your everlasting love.
I recall when we met, it seems so long ago
That I had asked you if you wanted to see a show.
You gave me a smile which I never could forget
Then you cracked a joke that I remember yet.
All these memories stay running in my mind
And I can’t stop them, and I don’t want to try.
Memories are like the ocean waves that
Beat against the shores, they are here now
And will be forever more.
The pain of losing you leaves me angry deep inside
For I know, that it wasn’t your time to die.
I know that GOD works in mysterious ways
And every night I ask him, as I get on my knees to pray.
I saw you in my dreams last night, and I heard
You gently say, that you truly love me
But with GOD you have to stay.
He had taken you for a reason which I would
Not understand, but everything you do was
to help your fellow man.
So with a sadness that I feel deep in my heart
With these words I love you, we will now part.
We will be together in the afterlife
And that’s when I’ll ask you if you’ll be my wife.
poem by Louis Rams
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