En.Citatepedia^®.ro

As A Pretty Butterfly That Flutters (Cavatina Sequence)

As a pretty butterfly that flutters
along she came,
rapidly always running up and down;
nothing could tame
that childish sweet happy rushing spirit;
her lovely name
is not heard anymore as she is gone,
from life into death she has moved on.

Some soothing summer sunshine must be lost,
she does not pass,
no small shadow falls or lingers at times;
outside the grass
is quite soft where her small feet once did tread,
like clear bright glass
the sky is clear without a single fleck;
from her I cannot my sad thoughts direct.

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cadences

I
(MINOR)

THE ANCIENT memories buried lie,
And the olden fancies pass;
The old sweet flower-thoughts wither and fly,
And die as the April cowslips die,
That scatter the bloomy grass.

All dead, my dear! And the flowers are dead,
And the happy blossoming spring;
The winter comes with its iron tread,
The fields with the dying sun are red,
And the birds have ceas’d to sing.

I trace the steps on the wasted strand
Of the vanish’d springtime’s feet:
Wither’d and dead is our Fairyland,
For Love and Death go hand in hand
Go hand in hand, my sweet!

II
(MAJOR)

OH, what shall be the burden of our rhyme,
And what shall be our ditty when the blossom’s on the lime?
Our lips have fed on winter and on weariness too long:
We will hail the royal summer with a golden-footed song!

O lady of my summer and my spring,
We shall hear the blackbird whistle and the brown sweet throstle sing,
And the low clear noise of waters running softly by our feet,
When the sights and sounds of summer in the green clear fields are sweet.

We shall see the roses blowing in the green,
The pink-lipp’d roses kissing in the golden summer sheen;
We shall see the fields flower thick with stars and bells of summer gold,
And the poppies burn out red and sweet across the corn-crown’d wold.

The time shall be for pleasure, not for pain;
There shall come no ghost of grieving for the past betwixt us twain;
But in the time of roses our lives shall grow together,
And our love be as the love of gods in the blue Olympic weather.

poem by John Howard Payne
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Sestina

I have come, alas, to the great circle of shadow,
to the short day and to the whitening hills,
when the colour is all lost from the grass,
though my desire will not lose its green,
so rooted is it in this hardest stone,
that speaks and feels as though it were a woman.

And likewise this heaven-born woman
stays frozen, like the snow in shadow,
and is unmoved, or moved like a stone,
by the sweet season that warms all the hills,
and makes them alter from pure white to green,
so as to clothe them with the flowers and grass.

When her head wears a crown of grass
she draws the mind from any other woman,
because she blends her gold hair with the green
so well that Amor lingers in their shadow,
he who fastens me in these low hills,
more certainly than lime fastens stone.

Her beauty has more virtue than rare stone.
The wound she gives cannot be healed with grass,
since I have travelled, through the plains and hills,
to find my release from such a woman,
yet from her light had never a shadow
thrown on me, by hill, wall, or leaves’ green.

I have seen her walk all dressed in green,
so formed she would have sparked love in a stone,
that love I bear for her very shadow,
so that I wished her, in those fields of grass,
as much in love as ever yet was woman,
closed around by all the highest hills.

The rivers will flow upwards to the hills
before this wood, that is so soft and green,
takes fire, as might ever lovely woman,
for me, who would choose to sleep on stone,
all my life, and go eating grass,
only to gaze at where her clothes cast shadow.

Whenever the hills cast blackest shadow,
with her sweet green, the lovely woman
hides it, as a man hides stone in grass.

poem by Dante Alighieri
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To the Grasshopper and the Cricket

Green little vaulter in the sunny grass,
Catching your heart up at the feel of June,
Sole voice that's heard amidst the lazy noon,
When even the bees lag at the summoning brass;
And you, warm little housekeeper, who class
With those who think the candles come too soon,
Loving the fire, and with your tricksome tune
Nick the glad silent moments as they pass;
Oh sweet and tiny cousins, that belong
One to the fields, the other to the hearth,
Both have your sunshine; both, though small, are strong
At your clear hearts; and both were sent on earth
To sing in thoughtful ears this natural song:
Indoors and out, summer and winter,--Mirth.

poem by James Henry Leigh Hunt
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Sunshine (The Acid Summer)

Roll and tumble with your big heart falling
Youre rolling tumbling alone
Beats forever what your dirty hands holding
You reach for something you will never know
Heard you singing in a taco bell bathroom
Heard you singing a cheap trick song
Yeah, we sang surrender all the way the county line
When I listen to that music
It makes me think of summertime
Yeah, that acid summer
We were wasted and happy
We were laughing in the sunshine
(sunshine)
Twist and turn with your bright eye shining
Twist and turn in the california sun
Wait forever for the life you dream of
You wait for something that will never come
You twist and turn in the slow motion daydream
You twist and turn in your own sweet hell
I dont get too close to the fire anymore
But when I think of you now, it makes me think of summertime
Yeah, that acid summer
We were wasted and happy
We laughing in the sunshine
Laughing in the sunshine
Laughing in the sunshine
Laughing in the sunshine
In the sunshine
Twist and turn with your bright eyes shining
Twist and turn in the california sun
Wait forever for the life you dream of
You wait for something that will never come
You twist and turn in the slow motion freefall
You twist and turn in your own good time
I cant watch you twisting and turning anymore
No I never thought a good time would turn into a lifestyle
No I just cant watch you wait anymore
But when I think of that summertime
It always seem to make me smile
(smile)
Yeah, that acid summer
We were wasted and happy
We were laughing in the sunshine
(go!)
We were laughing in the sunshine
(go!)
Laughing in the sunshine
(go!)
Laughing in the sunshine
(go!)

song performed by by Everclear
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sandpiper

The roaring waves that is shaking the beach
the hissing surf that shines like glass
is part of its world and continually it is just out of reach
where wave upon wave is passing as it runs fast

and it is quick on little brittle dark feet
where sucking small sand grains
sweep in and out and water foams on sheet upon sheet
and there the rushing little bird remains

while its world is at times filled with vapour
and then again suddenly clear
it is focussing on things minutely small while waters roar
are drawing very near

it is continually searching for some allure
it runs and runs on little feet that are sure

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Love Outshines The Summer Sun (Sonnet Corona)

(after William Shakespeare)

I

My love outshines the summer sun,
even stars in their remote twinkling light
and her eyes are more beautiful, each one
than the stars glimmering at night

Her cheeks is dimpled cute
her hair is an auburn crown,
her cheeks is rosy beyond repute
her hair is sun-shot twisting in a way of their own.

Her lips are more soft and warm
and her spirit is more mild
than a ray of light falling on my arm
or at times more free and wild

than birds where they fly,
my love is like the radiant sapphire sky.

II

My love is like the radiant sapphire sky
like the breeze rustling through trees
so lovely on my eye,
eager to please.

My love is like the summer sun,
like the blue hued sea
always warm and full of fun,
touching me gently

even when the darkness calls
and when time goes to its finality
like a star her light still falls,
my love stays true to me

in every thing her face I see
so gentle, sweet and free.

III

So gentle, sweet and free
my love lives her life
but I long for her to be near to me
in a world without any strive.

Like a lily prospering alone in the marsh
blooming pure and serene,
my darling lives unknown to a world harsh
out of control, away from the limelight scene

and in that rural place
her beauty is untouched by makeup,
filled with a sweet grace
and even in the morning when she wakes up

the sun is in her hair,
my darling is really fair.

IV

My darling is really fair
there are stars in her eyes,
she’s the most beautiful flower found anywhere,
her eyes are much more pure than the bluest skies.

When she smiles at me,
smiling tenderly,
I in her smile blessings see
as if love is there in all of its glory.

Still more so the bliss
that is caught in her kiss
that comes from the divine
which she is making mine

and sometimes the beauty makes her cry,
when the day flutters by.

V

When the day flutters by
with the sun setting red
you will find my love and I
where stars come out from bed,

then like a butterfly
the sun kisses the night,
touches the dark low and high
before it goes by with its last light

and she unloosens my tie
while we watch the full yellow moon,
while the fire in her eyes lie
sparkling, much brighter than the sunny afternoon,

but with a passing bat flying low she catches a fright,
while the stars are shining bright.

VII

While the stars are shining bright
like jewels in the sky’s crown
on a winter night
it has tranquillity, a beauty of its own,

her eyes are radiant,
as if aflame
lovely and brilliant
and of some she know the name

and something indiscernibly small
creeps into the very soul, into the heart
and of it that is all,
a smouldering, something with which we cannot part:

to me she remains the only one in joy and fun,
my love outshines the summer sun.

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Keys of Morning

While at her bedroom window once,
Learning her task for school,
Little Louisa lonely sat
In the morning clear and cool,
She slanted her small bead-brown eyes
Across the empty street,
And saw Death softly watching her
In the sunshine pale and sweet.

His was a long lean sallow face;
He sat with half-shut eyes,
Like a old sailor in a ship
Becalmed 'neath tropic skies.
Beside him in the dust he had set
His staff and shady hat;
These, peeping small, Louisa saw
Quite clearly where she sat -
The thinness of his coal-black locks,
His hands so long and lean
They scarcely seemed to grasp at all
The keys that hung between:
Both were of gold, but one was small,
And with this last did he
Wag in the air, as if to say,
"Come hither, child, to me!"

Louisa laid her lesson book
On the cold window-sill;
And in the sleepy sunshine house
Went softly down, until
She stood in the half-opened door,
And peeped. But strange to say
Where Death just now had sunning sat
Only a shadow lay:
Just the tall chimney's round-topped cowl,
And the small sun behind,
Had with its shadow in the dust
Called sleepy Death to mind.
But most she thought how strange it was
Two keys that he should bear,
And that, when beckoning, he should wag
The littlest in the air.

poem by Walter de la Mare
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Sunshine

Roll and tumble with your big heart falling
You roll and tumble alone
You reach forever with your dirty hand's holding
You reach for something you will never know
Heard you singing in a Taco Bell bathroom
Heard you singing a Cheap Trick song
Yeah, we sang Surrender all the way the county line
When I listen to that music
It makes me think of summertime
Yeah, that acid summer
We were wasted and happy
We were laughing in the sunshine
(Sunshine)
You twist and turn with your bright eyes shining
You twist and turn in the california sun
You wait forever for the life you dream of
You wait for something that will never come
You twist and turn in the slow motion daydream
You twist and turn in your own sweet hell
I don't get too close to the fire anymore
But when I think of you now, it makes me think of summertime
Yeah, that acid summer
We were wasted and happy
We laughing in the sunshine
Laughing in the sunshine
Laughing in the sunshine
Laughing in the sunshine
In the sunshine
Twist and turn with your bright eyes shining
Twist and turn in the california sun
Wait forever for the life you dream of
You wait for something that will never come
You twist and turn in the slow motion freefall
You twist and turn in your own good time
I can't watch you twisting and turning anymore
No I never thought a good time would turn into a lifestyle
No I just can't watch you wait anymore
But when I think of that summertime
It always seem to make me smile
(Smile)
Yeah, that acid summer
We were wasted and happy
We were laughing in the sunshine
(Go!)
We were laughing in the sunshine
(Go!)
Laughing in the sunshine
(Go!)
Laughing in the sunshine
(Go!)

song performed by by Everclear
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The summer

The summer is busy
catching speed
and I see how the bright blue sky,
is changed by clouds
that suddenly hangs dark and breeding.

In the distance a thunder rolls
and there are big drops
that falls about me in the red dirt
and I can almost see the grass,
bushes and trees
jump centimetres
from the power
that the clear drops bring.

Small sprouts are bursting green
out of the red brown ground
in the vegetable garden
and the magic of new life
is everywhere to be seen.

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ghosts Of All The Past Mornings (Elfin Stanza Sonnet)

This day brings very sweet tranquillity
ghosts of other days, of some past morning
are present during this bright day in spring,
outside there is a kind of dignity

insects are buzzing up and down, are free
some are fluttering on a fragile wing,
you are dressed exceedingly lovely
while thousands of small birds do outside sing,

but this sunshine envelops everything
there is happiness in all that I see,

I have lived in times of real fighting
and have survived while you did love me,
our lives at times have been quite exciting
and every single day I see your beauty.

poem by Gert Strydom
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A Year and a Day

Slow days have passed that make a year,
Slow hours that make a day,
Since I could take my first dear love
And kiss him the old way;
Yet the green leaves touch me on the cheek,
Dear Christ, this month of May.

I lie among the tall green grass
That bends above my head
And covers up my wasted face
And folds me in its bed
Tenderly and lovingly
Like grass above the dead.

Dim phantoms of an unknown ill
Float through my tired brain;
The unformed visions of my life
Pass by in ghostly train;
Some pause to touch me on the cheek,
Some scatter tears like rain.

A shadow falls along the grass
And lingers at my feet;
A new face lies between my hands --
Dear Christ, if I could weep
Tears to shut out the summer leaves
When this new face I greet.

Still it is but the memory
Of something I have seen
In the dreamy summer weather
When the green leaves came between:
The shadow of my dear love’s face --
So far and strange it seems.

The river ever running down
Between its grassy bed,
The voices of a thousand birds
That clang above my head,
Shall bring to me a sadder dream
When this sad dream is dead.

A silence falls upon my heart
And hushes all its pain.
I stretch my hands in the long grass
And fall to sleep again,
There to lie empty of all love
Like beaten corn of grain.

poem by Elizabeth Eleanor Siddal
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Love Is Like A Butterfly

Love is like a butterfly
As soft and gentle as a sigh
The multicolored moods of love are like its satin wings
Love makes your heart feel strange inside
It flutters like soft wings in flight
Love is like a butterfly, a rare and gentle thing
I feel it when youre with me
It happens when you kiss me
That rare and gentle feeling that I feel inside
Your touch is soft and gentle
Your kiss is warm and tender
Whenever I am with you I think of butterflies
Love is like a butterfly
The multicolored moods of love are like its satin wings
Love makes your heart feel strange inside
It flutters like soft wings in flight
Love is like a butterfly, a rare and gentle thing
Your laughter brings me sunshine
Everyday is spring time
And I am only happy when you are by my side
How precious is this love we share
How very precious, sweet and rare
Together we belong like daffodils and butterflies
Love is like a butterfly
As soft and gentle as a sigh
The multicolored moods of love are like its satin wings
Love makes your heart feel strange inside
It flutters like soft wings in flight
Love is like a butterfly, a rare and gentle thing
Love is like a butterfly, a rare and gentle thing

song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wedding Cake Dance

A happy girl
And a happy man
She so happy to be with him

A pretty girl
With a pretty smile

A pretty man
With pretty eyes

He danced with her
Twirled her
They both laughed

Their minds raced with how pretty they were
Atop the wedding cake

They sat and spoke
Sipped on spirits in crystal
Perfectly square

The ice danced
Crisp noise against glass
With the music

Their pretty mouths moved
Then they smiled
He fed her something sweet

He wanted to know the taste of the prettiness that he saw
She wanted him to taste the sweetness
Until She felt it
In her hips

He licked the innocence
In one single kiss
Right off of her lips

She to blush
Next to smile
Then it was over after that

poem by Ana Burnhep
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Happy The Times Were

Happy the times were when we were free of our troubles
Happy the times were when we rode around in the car with the wind in our hair.
Dancing in the rain in the middle of the street
Running in the sprinklers at the football field at night
We were happy knowing that we weren't going anywhere
Who knew our fun would end sooner than we thought.

Winter came and all of our fun disappeared into the snow and dead leaves.
Happy the times were when everything was in our hands
But now things hang by a loose thread, not making any sense at all

Looking back at the small town with a couple of thousand to keep us company
Looking back as we drive away to the 'supposed' new great life

Happy the times were when we lived in the small town we loved so dear
Happy the times were when we had Sonora.

poem by Kamilla Davila
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The Skeleton Butterfly

A skeleton butterfly, Kisses my cheek,
A kiss so beautiful...so gentle....so sweet,
It floats around the air, where death has been,
Always following me, for death has always been to close to touch,
Its beautiful bones, and wings of Crimson embers, Is left as a reminder that death Lives within us all,
he'll pay you a visit the cost is small,
This beautiful creature of death, left to ponder the living,
Lost in the sarrows of humans Frightened be fear,
It clings to me for life has more meaning when Death visits and leaves,
Lost in the devils eternity,
A butterfly stays with those touched by death, forever there friend,
when the world has left.

poem by Crimson Love
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Sam and the Butterfly

One day I saw a sweet butterfly
Just as pretty as can be
My coal black tomcat, Sam
Was walking next to me

A beautiful summer day
I smiled and hummed a song
Enjoying this flitting butterfly
As Sam and I walked along

And suddenly, you’ll not believe
Without a single sound
Sam swiped his paw into the air
Knocking this butterfly to the ground!

poem by Marilyn Lott
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Cold, clear, and blue the morning heaven

Cold, clear, and blue the morning heaven
Expands its arch on high;
Cold, clear, and blue Lake Werna's water
Reflects that winter sky:
The moon has set, but Venus shines,
A silent, silvery star.

Will the day be bright or cloudy?
Sweetly has its dawn begun;
But the heaveb may shake with thunder
Ere the settling sun.

Lady, watch Apollo's journey;
Thus thy first hour's course shall be;
If his beams through summer vapours
Warm the earth all placidly,
Her days shall pass like a pleasant dream in sweet tranquility.

If it darken, if a shadow
Quench his rays and summon rain,
Flowers may open, buds may blossom,
Bud and flower alike are vain;
Her days shall pass like a mournful story in care and tears and pain.

If the wind be fresh and free,
The wide skies clear and cloudless blue,
The woods and fields and golden flowers
Sparkling in sunshine and in dew,
Her days shall pass in Glory's light the world's drear desert through.

poem by Emily Brontë from The Complete Poems of Emily Brontë (1908)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Heard Somebody Cry

(I thought I heard somebody cry--
I though I heard somebody cry)
I went to see what I could find
Like flowers in the dead of night
Like shadows in the moonlight--
I though I heard somebody cry
A choir with a single voice--a picnic on a cliff
Antenna like an insect--to pick up all your thoughts
Chorus
It isnt true
I am not the ghost
Without a soul . . . come
Listen to my heart
You feel the beat . . . stop
Listen to the sound
Of moving feet . . . walk
Through the halls at night
When Im asleep
I dont believe . . .i dont believe
The shoe is on the other foot--the glove is on the fist
The first is like a cannonball--but it feels like a kiss
I got a bed thats real soft--in a room thats always sad
I thought I heard a window sigh--
I though I heard somebody cry
Chorus
A choir with a single voice--a picnic on a cliff
Antenna like an insect--to pick up all your thoughts
I sip the running water--like rivers from your eyes
I thought I heard somebody cry--somebody might be lost
I thought I heard somebody cry--somebody might be lost
I thought I heard somebody cry--i thought Id go and see
I thought I heard somebody cry--somebody might be me

song performed by by Oingo Boingo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Butterfly Flutterby

The butterfly was young
Her vibrant wings of delicate lace
Such grace such poise
A hcarming butterfly
The cricket was slick thicket
Moving quick but swift
Yet smart somewhat wise
Proud of his chirp
Hopping through the grass
Butterfly fluttered by till upon a rose
Spreading her wings a dainty show
Slowly sipping sweet
Hopping skipping
Cricket saw
Butterfly glanced
The cricket saw butterfly
The butterfly looked yonder
Cricket hopped and chirped
A jumpety crickety song
Butterfly sighed
And rolled her eyes
Cricket hopped closer
Butterfly laughed
Silly cricket trying hard
Butterfly cared less
Poor cricket hopped and hopped
Butterfly sipping nectar sweet
Cricket sang sonfter sweeter
Butterfly stopped
A song so sweet
Too lovely than nectar
Cricket hopped upon a rose
Butterfly jumped
Almost to fly away
Cricket song too lovely to fly away
Butterfly in a trance
Fluttering her wings lovely
Too charming
Too tempting
Crickect sang
Butterfly in a spell
Too late to break
Lovers forever
Strange couple though
Yet lovely
Yet happy
Suave cricket, Princess Butterfly
Flutterby, flutterby.......

poem by Bella Ravenstar
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After our Likeness.

Before me now a little picture lies—
A little shadow of a childish face,
Childishly sweet, yet with the dawning grace
Of thought and wisdom on her lips and eyes.

Fair, oval, broad-brow'd face—small, delicate head—
Transparent skin, with blue veins shining through—
All the soft outlines, beautiful and true,
Bring me the echo of the words “God said.”

Made “in our image”—sure 'tis that we see,
God's likeness, in the fair face of a child,
By the world's sin and passion undefiled—
Ay, as I look, it seems quite plain to me.

The light wherein the little features shine,
Strange, mystic light, so undefined and faint,
So far too pure for any words to paint—
'Tis a reflection of the Face divine.

Some day the earthly shadows will be cast
Across that sunshine—it may be to dim
A while the visible countenance of Him;
But 'twill be there—the likeness—to the last.

Some day the lucid waters, in which lie
Pictured those glorious lineaments, will be
Stirred up and troubled like a stormy sea;—
But they will yet re-settle—by-and-by.

They will re-settle when the soul is still'd,
Its passions, its wild longings, and its pain;
The pure reflection will shine out again
When earth's hopes are relinquish'd, unfulfill'd.

They will re-settle in those after-years
When life's hard lessons have been conned and learn'd;
Then this child's beauty will have all return'd,
More lovely for the trouble and the tears.
They will re-settle in the calm of death,
When the sweet eyes are laid asleep, and when
The heart is hush'd. Truly God's likeness then—
The mirror clear, unsullied by a breath.

Ah! while I look, and trace each tender line,
I think most of the day when I shall see
The dear face in that perfect purity,
Its mortal features clothed with the divine.

This self-same face, but with the image bright,
Nevermore undefined, and faint, and dim;
This self-same face, yet like the face of Him,
In glory and in beauty infinite.

poem by Ada Cambridge
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