En.Citatepedia^®.ro

St. Francis And The Sow

The bud
stands for all things,
even those things that don't flower,
for everything flowers, from within, of self-blessing;
though sometimes it is necessary
to reteach a thing its loveliness,
to put a hand on its brow
of the flower
and retell it in words and in touch
it is lovely
until it flowers again from within, of self-blessing;
as St. Francis
put his hand on the creased forehead
of the sow, and told her in words and in touch
blessings of earth on the sow, and the sow
began remembering all down her thick length,
from the earthen snout all the way
through the fodder and slops to the spiritual curl of
the tail,
from the hard spininess spiked out from the spine
down through the great broken heart
to the blue milken dreaminess spurting and shuddering
from the fourteen teats into the fourteen mouths sucking
and blowing beneath them:
the long, perfect loveliness of sow.

poem by Galway Kinnell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Year Is Revived In New Blossoms

The year is revived in new blossoms
with a golden sun in the cobalt sky,
in my life only Your principles bloom;
bright flowers are preparing to carry fruit.
Days are hot, full of promises stretching forward
to a time of fruitfulness, of full maturity,
when suddenly nature works secretively,
when love in my life comes to expression;
the loveliness of flower upon flower is astounding.

When the loveliness of flower upon flower astounds,
there are birds everywhere singing of joy,
the year spins around from winter to summer
when Your blessings pierce the darkness,
life becomes more full of love and perfect
without any type of strange hindrance
when You create living things to Your image
when new life sprouts out after the pruning,
the year is revived in new blossoms.

poem by Gert Strydom
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A Beautiful Flower Blooming

A withered flower blooming again
breeze shook the flower
the sun is shining on flower
rain water to wash the dust-filled flower
abort storm petals
storm that renders the flower petals
polling beetle sucking painful

flower that bloom so bright today
beauty exudes an aura of coolness of the beholder
spread the fragrance that invites a bee to touch
although many other flowers around it
bees sucking the flower first
choose to suck and touch the flower
lately the flower
always bloom radiate beauty
a bee was not able to get away from the flower
a bee sucking the beautiful bloomington
always produce the honey taste good
really beautiful relationship between the flower and bee
both are very compatible and complement each other

poem by meti Rahmawati
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The Lover Sings Of A Garden

Oh, beautiful are the flowers of your garden,
The flowers of your garden are fair:
Blue flowers of your eyes
And dusk flower of your hair;
Dew flower of your mouth
And peony-budded breasts,
And the flower of the curve of your hand
Where my hand rests.

poem by Helen Hoyt
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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
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Nice Appeal

Why flowers have nice appeal?
Why do they look so natural?
Is it god's blessings for their appearance?
To observe them with keen interest is pure and lucky chance

We are deeply involved with day to day involvement
Find so many restrictions to make some happy moments
Some of us even don't have opportunity to see rising sun
Have feeling of morning breeze and synchronized it with health run

Flowers may appeal and attract
Yet we are forbidden to act
Pluck, keep for sometime and throw
Have fragrance for a while and experience blow

We as human being are like flowers
Enjoy it in open when rain dazzle with showers
Child age is considered full of innocence
But love is always there in its presence

With advent of young age
Your fancy comes out of the cage
You long for beautiful and lovely company
That is sometimes praised and condemned too by many

Young people find their own time
Choose the flower and enjoy sometimes
It is considered as sacred and heavenly sent
Bodies touch with bodies, curl and bend like serpents

Such is magic of beauty and totally unconcerned by any laws
It may have our blessing despite some dangers and flaws
Yet that has been accepted as natural act
We are meant for each others in fact

We may definitely weigh in favor of attachment
To bring about lovely union with happy moments
Yet we bleed some times leaving behind deep scars
Souls separate for no reasons and choose to go very far

With one passionate touch on forehead
Whole universe comes to our feet and felt by blood
Vanes expand to rush it heavily and send signal
Beware! Spring is round the corner and waiting for arrival

poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Anniversaries

for all
the things that we both know
we don't talk about them

we start talking
about those that we pretend we do not know

you choose the words
like the way you put the right flowers in a vase
at the headboard of the bed,

and i choose the words not to hurt you
we do not look at each other's eyes
we refrain the touch
of the hands

you leave the flowers there
and i look to another direction
there are things that remain
to be done
we ought to

and then the flowers wilt
nights come and go
and then the following morning
we choose again
words, flowers,

we continue
not talking about what we already know

i guess
this is the only way how we can survive
the travails of marriage.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Daisy

Where the thistle lifts a purple crown
Six foot out of the turf,
And the harebell shakes on the windy hill--
O breath of the distant surf!--

The hills look over on the South,
And southward dreams the sea;
And with the sea-breeze hand in hand
Came innocence and she.

Where 'mid the gorse the raspberry
Red for the gatherer springs;
Two children did we stray and talk
Wise, idle, childish things.

She listened with big-lipped surprise,
Breast-deep 'mid flower and spine:
Her skin was like a grape whose veins
Run snow instead of wine.

She knew not those sweet words she spake,
Nor knew her own sweet way;
But there's never a bird, so sweet a song
Thronged in whose throat all day.

Oh, there were flowers in Storrington
On the turf and on the spray;
But the sweetest flower on Sussex hills
Was the Daisy-flower that day!

Her beauty smoothed earth's furrowed face.
She gave me tokens three:--
A look, a word of her winsome mouth,
And a wild raspberry.

A berry red, a guileless look,
A still word,--strings of sand!
And yet they made my wild, wild heart
Fly down to her little hand.

For standing artless as the air,
And candid as the skies,
She took the berries with her hand,
And the love with her sweet eyes.

The fairest things have fleetest end,
Their scent survives their close:
But the rose's scent is bitterness
To him that loved the rose.

She looked a little wistfully,
Then went her sunshine way--
The sea's eye had a mist on it,
And the leaves fell from the day.

She went her unremembering way,
She went and left in me
The pang of all he partings gone,
And partings yet to be.

She left me marvelling why my soul
Was sad that she was glad;
At all the sadness in the sweet,
The sweetness in the sad.

Still, still I seemed to see her, still
Look up with soft replies,
And take the berries with her hand,
And the love with her lovely eyes.

Nothing begins, and nothing ends,
That is not paid with moan,
For we are born in other's pain,
And perish in our own.

poem by Francis Thompson
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I Am Carried Away

In the
hallows
of my
mind
you
exist.

A precious
flower
I ponder
your
loveliness.

A breath
of fresh
air.
softly
touching
my lips

Blowing
over me
cooling

A lovely
blossom
full of
promises

Whispering
sweet words
until I
melt into
you.

Finding
solace
in your
presence
I am
carried
away.

poem by Heather Burns
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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
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A flower.

A flower...

New born
Baby...
With a
Touch...
And kiss...
With touch...
Wonder of
New...
hand's
Legs...
Lips...
body...
A new flower...!
Heart also hunted
The flower...
IT is flower or baby..? !
Otteri selvakumar

poem by Starseven0 Starseven0
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The time when suddenly spring does unfold (English sonnet)

The time when suddenly spring does unfold
when skies are crystal clear, sunny and blue
in blossoming trees and flowers I do behold
and still my deep feelings for you are true

when all of nature is gay, full of life,
when the season is more hot than temperate
and it's a great blessing that you are my wife
that together daily we do face fate

and although at times you bring me pain
there is loveliness that on your face I see
and our feelings of affection and love does remain
as if by God's own hand they are set to be

as if from the creation together we do belong,
still my love for you daily grows more strong.

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A flower...

New born
Baby...

With a
Touch...

And kiss...
With touch...

Wonder of
New...

hand's
Legs...

Lips ...
body...

A new flower...!
Heart also hunted

The flower...
IT is flower or baby..? !

poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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At the Florist.

A Man enters a flower shop 
And chooses some flowers 
The Florist wraps the flowers 
The Man puts his hand in his pocket 
Searching for money 
Money to pay for the Flowers 
But at the same time 
Suddenly 
He puts his hand on his Heart and 
Falls 

At the same time as He falls 
The money falls to the floor 
And then the flowers fall 
At the same time as the man 
At the same time as the money 
And the Florist stands still 
With the falling money 
With the damaged flowers 
With the Dying Man 
Obviously all this is very sad 
And she must do something 
The Florist 
But She dosen't know what to do 
Dosen't know where to start 

There are so many things to do 
With this Man who's Dying 
These damaged Flowers 
And this Money 
This Money rolling 
Which dosen't stop rolling. 

Jacques Prévert- Translation

poem by David Holbrook
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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
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Rhymes & Reasons

This song appears on eleven albums, and was first released on the rhymes and reasons album, then this is john denver, the rocky mountain collection, the country roads collection, and reflections
Has been rerecorded on the very best of john denver (double cd), john denver (italian), country classics and greatest hits vol 1 albums. live versions also appear on an evening with john denver
He wildlife concert albums.
So you speak to me of sadness
And the coming of the winter
Fear that is within you now
It seems to never end
And the dreams that have escaped you
And the hope that youve forgotten
You tell me that you need me now
You want to be my friend
And you wonder where were going
Wheres the rhyme and wheres the reason
And its you cannot accept
It is here we must begin
To seek the wisdom of the children
And the graceful way of flowers in the wind
For the children and the flowers
Are my sisters and my brothers
Their laughter and their loveliness
Could clear a cloudy day
Like the music of the mountains
And the colours of the rainbow
Theyre a promise of the future
And a blessing for today
Though the cities start to crumble
And the towers fall around us
The sun is slowly fading
And its colder than the sea
It is written from the desert
To the mountains they shall lead us
By the hand and by the heart
They will comfort you and me
In their innocence and trusting
They will teach us to be free
For the children and the flowers
Are my sisters and my brothers
Their laughter and their loveliness
Could clear a cloudy day
And the song that I am singing
Is a prayer to non believers
Come and stand beside us
We can find a better way
Words and music by john denver

song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Anguish Thoughts

I saw a flower
Not so fresh, enchanting
It has no sweet smell as roses have.
But it has the thorns of roses.
If I touch a flower
I can tell its soft or rough
But all flowers are soft
Soft petals with sweet fragrance
Make a flower beloved.
But I can’t touch this flower
For it is dangerous.
But worms found its bed
And going to destroy my little flower.
Can this secret love
Destroy her crimson petals?

poem by Abdul Hakeem Parannur
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When Love Hurts

(2/22/12)

When love hurts - where do you hide your broken heart
That has been ravaged and torn apart.
How do you ease the pain you feel
When you no longer know what's fantasy or real.

Love hurts because you did not open your eyes
You rushed in totally blind.
The physical beauty is what attracted you
Now your heart is broken in two.

When love hurts - and you see others
Walking hand in hand, and you look at your life
And you can't understand.

When love hurts is when words start flying
And you know that there is some lying
Words are thrown with out remorse
And you wonder what was the course.

When love hurts - you try to block it from your mind
But it'll be with you for a very long time.
The pain starts rising from your gut
And climbs its way to your heart
And it starts to tear it apart.

When love hurts - there are two things
That you can do - pray to god
And tell a friend or two
For all will help and follow through.

When love hurts - just cry silently or
You can cry openly, for crying helps
To relieve some of the pain.
Just like the earth when it gets the rain.
It renews you like a flower is renewed
So you'll know what you have to do.

poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Without Lip Or Sucking Of Tongue

Of course I know 'how' I arrived.
And the length of time it took,
For anyone to notice my presence.
Although it was not my presence,
Or reason why...
That I began this journey to be noticed.
I was much too young.
Like a puppy first seeing its tail for the first time...
And curious as to where it came from.
Who knew?
I didn't!
Until I began following an attraction,
That seemed always in my mind.

Of course I 'know' how I arrived.
I first heard my voice.
And my parents noticed it.
I learned if I used it in certain ways,
They were there.
I was a baby them.

Then I connected my voice to words.
I was in awe that letters were attached.
And those letters attached used in different ways,
Made those words I said more or less effective.
Then I began to see those letters change,
As I began to print them by hand slowly.
I was amazed! .

Then I discovered certain words I shouldn't say!
I should never have been told that.
Because even today...
I will use those same words to chase people away.

Of course I know 'how' I arrived.
And I used a lot of cussing along the way.
Trust me.
But I stopped when it was pointed out to me,
I 'seemed' to have had more intelligence than that.
And whoever said that to me,
Had no clue as to how curious I was.

'Ma?
What's intelligence? '

~Someobody who asks too many questions.
And is about to get on my last nerve.~

'You talking about me? '

~Are you or are you not in my face? ~

'Why can't I ask you anything,
Before it's turned into a test? '

~And if you want to pass,
You know what to do.
Without lip or sucking of tongue.
You got that, mister? ~

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Broken Vase

The vase where this verbena is dying
was cracked by a blow from a fan.
It must have barely brushed it,
for it made no sound.

But the slight wound,
biting into the crystal day by day,
surely, invisibly crept
slowly all around it.

The clear water leaked out drop by drop.
The flowers' sap was exhausted.
Still no one suspected anything.
Don't touch! It's broken.

Thus often does the hand we love,
barely touching the heart, wound it.
Then the heart cracks by itself
and the flower of its love dies.

Still intact in the eyes of the world,
it feels its wound, narrow and deep,
grow and softly cry.
It's broken. Don't touch!

poem by Rene Francois Armand Prudhomme
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The Star's Song

Flower! Flower, why repine?
God knows each creature's place;
He hides within me when I shine,
And your leaves hide His face.

And you are near as I to Him,
And you reveal as much
Of that eternal soundless hymn
Man's words may never touch.

God sings to man through all my rays
That wreathe the brow of night,
And walks with me thro' all my ways --
The everlasting light.

Flower! Flower, why repine?
He chose on lowly earth,
And not in heaven where I shine,
His Bethlehem and birth.

Flower! Flower, I see Him pass
Each hour of night and day,
Down to an altar and a Mass
Go thou! and fade away.

Fade away upon His shrine!
Thy light is brighter far
Than all the light wherewith I shine
In heaven, as a star.

poem by Abram Joseph Ryan
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