Daffodils (cavatina)
Somewhat solitary some flowers grew in
a little knot,
looking gay and they were ever changing,
I found a lot,
they did toss, did in the stormy wind reel
where other sorts rot,
they grew to a kind of sheer perfection,
glorious waving in each direction.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Grew Up Fast
We grew up fast
And no one seemed to notice
We grew up fast
And we grew up alone
Mom and dad
Were never what we wanted
We grew up fast
And we grew up alone
We grew up along
Well you know who I am
So dont treat me like Im someone else
Well you know what I am
So dont treat me like Im someone else
You never act like that with no one else
We grew up fast
When lies were just a fact of life
We grew up mad
Cause we never had a home
We faced the past
And forgave the revolution
We grew up smashed
And we grew up alone
We grew up alone
Hey my brother
I got no fight with you
I just cant lie down
Hey my brother
I got no fight with you
I just cant lie down
No, I just cant ride down
I just cant ride down
Well you know who I am
So dont treat me like Im someone else
Well you know what I am
So dont act like Im something else
Well you know who I am
So dont treat me like Im someone else
You know where I am
So dont act like Im somwhere else
You never talk like that to no one else
You never scream like that for no one else
You never suck like that for no one else
song performed by by Tom Petty
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Weed
There was an old woman
that planted a garden.
And in the garden
there grew a weed.
The weed grew next to
a beautiful flower.
The flower had grown
from a tiny seed.
The weed was strong
and would not bend.
The wind did blow
and it did send
the seeds from the flower
into the air.
They circled around
and landed where
the weed was growing
next to the flower.
Soon the weed was
surrounded by flowers.
It loved where it was
and looked by the hours
at all of the beautiful
colorful flowers.
The old woman who planted
the garden one day
decided that she would
make a bouquet.
She went to the garden
to cut the flowers.
But when she got there
down came the showers.
The raindrops that fell
made the weed shine
which made the old woman
change her mind.
She left them alone
in her garden and knew
that the weed belonged
with the flowers that grew.
She'd planted the flowers.
God planted the weed.
The garden was perfect.
No bouquet did she need.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
My Direction
Perfection is my direction
Even if thats all I had
Its not like I need no correction,
I just know that lifes not so bad
Picture this, everyday,
Kids that just cant find a way,
Stuck in this erect,
Cant find hope for better days
Its our 2 generation,
Our child of frustration
In the last 30 years teenage suicide has increased 300% in north america & is the 2nd major continent attached to canada.
Perfection is my direction
Even if thats all I had
Its not like I need no correction,
I just know that lifes not so bad
When will all my problems disappear?
Am I just going crazy from the fear?
Oh why am I going far past the break
The bridge is like a way,
And I still cant think straight.
Perfection is my direction
Even if thats all I had
Its not like I need no correction,
I just know that lifes not so bad
I met my destination
Whats life to complain about?
All these aggrivations
Building till the sea fall out
Im running by, no lie,
When every time I lie,
(dont tell me without a doubt this new found luck has all run out [repeat])
Perfection is my direction
Even if thats all I had
Its not like I need no correction,
I just know that lifes not so bad
song performed by by Sum 41
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Paradise refused for Friend JTEarly
I dreamt I was in paradise
Where every thing was beautiful
Nothing here displeased my eyes.
I thought at first how wonderful.
But I grew bored and longed to see
something which lacked perfection
This paradise did not suit me.
I voiced my consternation
I needed contrasts to compare
The constant beauty soon grew stale.
I did not want to remain there
I was afraid that I would fail.
Lose my ability to choose
What kind of beauty I preferred
I made my mind up to refuse
The sad boredom heaven offered.
Your paradise would be my hell
Total perfection’s not for me
I must have ugliness as well
a difference that I can see.
When I awoke I was relieved
to see my world just as it is.
And not the paradise conceived
by others as a state of bliss.
13-Sep-08
http: // blog myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
All The Wrong Reasons
Trouble blew in on a cold dark wind
It came without no warnin
And that big ol house went up for sale
They were on the road by morning
The days went slow into the changing season
Out in the col d for all the wrong reasons
Well she grew up hard, and she grew up fast
In the age of television
And she made a vow to have it all
It became her new religion
Down in her soul, it was an act of treason
Down they go, for al l the wrong reasons
Where the sky begins the horizon ends
Despite the best intentions
And a big old man goes up for sale
He becomes his own invention
The days go slow, into the changing season
Bought and sold for all the wrong reasons
Down they go for all the wrong reasons
song performed by by Tom Petty
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
I feard the fury of my wind...
I feard the fury of my wind
Would blight all blossoms fair & true
And my sun it shind & shind
And my wind it never blew
But a blossom fair or true 5
Was not found on any tree
For all blossoms grew & grew
Fruitless false tho fair to see
poem by William Blake from Songs and Ballads
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy!
o2b4u
Oh to be yours forever
.Under opalescent mother of pearl skies
.To sink into your lazy lagoon of sheer tranquility
.Where sorrows once accumalated-now are days gone by
Oh to bathe in your crystaline reflection
.Your absolute and sheer perfection
.My choice of transparency restless in my selection
.Wanton at times with maudlin indiscretion
Oh to be the grass under your feet
.Or the chalice of yours to drink
.Perhaps your feet stepping ever high
.Changing stormy weather to sun in a blink
Oh to be the rooster who crows in your morn
.Of your every brand new day
.To spend time my beloved in your magical, mystical world
Where absolute health prevails and illness forever gone away
June 6,2009
poem by Theodora Onken
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
All our morning glory days are done
All our morning glory days are done
just like the flowers
that you made me rip out
from where they grew
towering under the sun.
The garden is empty
and stripped of the violet flowers
that grew everywhere
and I am no longer there
and wonder if the geraniums,
irises, marigolds, white lilies,
red roses and lavender
are still being watered
or is every thing in your life
just fading away
into death
with the falling leaves
of this autumn?
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The misfortune of the old
Who else will protect me as I’m too old?
I begot a son, who grew strong and bold.
Fully secure in his hand, I grew bald.
Alas! I couldn’t die before he grew old.
22.05.2005
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Without Regret
Saddened memories,
I once held as property.
Who knew,
They would go...
When they grew,
Inside of me!
I now reflect,
Without regret.
I know now
Defeats I've met!
But who knew,
They would go...
When they grew,
Inside of me!
Those times
Stayed on my mind
For days at a time.
I used that to feed,
My own desperate needing.
I lived with anger and deceit!
I felt those feelings deep,
Within me!
Defeats I have met!
But who knew,
They would go...
When they grew,
Inside of me!
But...
Who knew,
They would go...
When they grew,
Inside of me!
Who knew,
Like I do now...
When they grew,
Somehow
They would go...
From inside of me!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
If Hope Grew On A Bush
If hope grew on a bush,
And joy grew on a tree,
What a nosegay for the plucking
There would be!
But oh! in windy autumn,
When frail flowers wither,
What should we do for hope and joy,
Fading together?
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
My Healer Baby
MY HEALER BABY
Dating is a white butterfly,
Its separations are black,
My soul is a sad child
Grew in charity with lack.
My graceful poor baby,
Who dream is wounded, baby.
Looking at stony roads,
My hopes grew into roads.
I burnt, my ashes grew,
Into a flower of luckless dreams.
A companion to the dream, my baby,
Whose joy is wounded, my baby.
Love is water in the stream,
Has run beside you flowing.
Seeing your weak state also
Hasn't gone a moment of waving
From pains suffers, my healer baby,
Whose faith seems victorious, my baby.
poem by Uktamoy Khaldorova
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Blue Black
Eat your words, eat your heart out
Eat your words, eat your heart out.
Theres not much left, just my red dress
Just this feeling that I got
You made me a victim in your christmas kitchen
Its my memory its your loss.
Blue black, maybe you got something
But the flowers grew back.
And was it familiar when you touched my sister
God, I dont think theres a word for that.
Blue black, maybe you got something
But the flowers grew black.
I gave it away, whore for a day
Its so ugly, Im still breathing
But you never got my virgin heart
It stayed locked up, its still beating.
Blue black, maybe you got something
But the flowers grew black
Eat your words, eat your hat
Eat your words, eat your heart out.
I never felt so clean, you did the sin supreme
You never had a clue, you cant take it with you
I never felt so clean, you did the sin supreme
You never had a clue, you cant take it with you.
song performed by by Heather Nova
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
I always, always liked children... I was very afraid of them before. Because I never really grew up, I mean, with a lot of little kids around. Even though I am from a kind of Italian family, I never really grew up with a lot of little kids around.
quote by Steve Burns
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
What Did You Expect Me To Do
(Sanger D. Shafer)
Sometimes I smile
When you stayed home for a while
What did you expect me to do
I always cried
Each time you tolled a lie
What did you expect me to do
Each time I forgave you
You grew bolder
And each time you hurt me
My heart grew colder
Sure I loved
But I found someone new
What did you expect me to do
Each time I forgave you
You grew bolder
And each time you hurt me
My heart grew colder
Sure I loved
But I found someone new
What did you expect me to do
song performed by by George Strait
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Quiet Thought
A thought slowly heard
Grew into an idea conceived
That a heart was distracted
Into sight a passion caught
A feeling grew to be known
Into life it breathed
A whisper quietly heard
Found substance inside a thought
That a heart then smiled
Upon the sight which greeted it
Such feeling took hold
And grew to live
A name waited to be spoken
A word calling out
Shouted into the world
A feeling found and felt
Love, passion, desire
All became heard then known
poem by Matthew Holloway
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Ponder
The tufts of grass grew tall along the wall,
then through the fence, continued on their way,
into a meadow.
There, wild flowers grew,
in vivid colours of every hue,
and were strewn down the hill in disarray,
sparkling bright in the early newborn day,
leaving the mind to ponder on it all.
poem by Ernestine Northover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Himself
Last night, when I was listenin’
Alone, to wind and rain,
He took the chair beside me,
Himself - come home again.
His kind blue eyes were smilin’
Beneath his thatch of grey,
He laid his hand on my hand,
The ould sweetheartin’ way.
I pressed my cheek upon it,
Remembering bitterly
The times he faced his daily toil
Without one smile from me.
And yet, his meals were always good,
His clothes well kept and clean,
The neighbours, sure, will tell you,
The splendid wife I’ve been.
But in Life’s stress and struggle,
We somehow, grew apart,
You know these Irish mothers,
'Tis “the childer” has their heart.
And he grew grim, and close-lipped,
And harder, day by day,
Poor man - too tired for laughter,
Too worried to be gay.
But - how his care enclosed us,
For all he was so grim,
The very rafters of our home
Were cut and laid by him.
And I, that might have cheered him,
The bitter words I said,
Oh! God, that we remember,
Only when they are dead.
But now - my arms were round him,
The room seemed full of flowers,
And Youth came back and sunshine,
That glorious time was ours.
The firelight flamed and flickered,
The embers fell apart,
I woke to empty silence,
With sorrow at my heart.
The wild winds brought the morning,
The dawn was red and chill,
And Himself was lyin’ sleepin’
In the graveyard on the hill!
poem by Alice Guerin Crist
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Riding Together
For many, many days together
The wind blew steady from the East;
For many days hot grew the weather,
About the time of our Lady's Feast.
For many days we rode together,
Yet met we neither friend nor foe;
Hotter and clearer grew the weather,
Steadily did the East wind blow.
We saw the trees in the hot, bright weather,
Clear-cut, with shadows very black,
As freely we rode on together
With helms unlaced and bridles slack.
And often, as we rode together,
We, looking down the green-bank'd stream,
Saw flowers in the sunny weather,
And saw the bubble-making bream.
And in the night lay down together,
And hung above our heads the rood,
Or watch'd night-long in the dewy weather,
The while the moon did watch the wood.
Our spears stood bright and thick together,
Straight out the banners stream'd behind,
As we gallop'd on in the sunny weather,
With faces turn'd towards the wind.
Down sank our threescore spears together,
As thick we saw the pagans ride;
His eager face in the clear fresh weather,
Shone out that last time by my side.
Up the sweep of the bridge we dash'd together,
It rock'd to the crash of the meeting spears,
Down rain'd the buds of the dear spring weather,
The elm-tree flowers fell like tears.
There, as we roll'd and writhed together,
I threw my arms above my head,
For close by my side, in the lovely weather,
I saw him reel and fall back dead.
I and the slayer met together,
He waited the death-stroke there in his place,
With thoughts of death, in the lovely weather,
Gapingly mazed at my madden'd face.
Madly I fought as we fought together;
In vain: the little Christian band
The pagans drown'd, as in stormy weather
The river drowns low-lying land.
They bound my blood-stain'd hands together,
They bound his corpse to nod by my side:
Then on we rode, in the bright March weather,
With clash of cymbals did we ride.
We ride no more, no more together;
My prison-bars are thick and strong,
I take no heed of any weather,
The sweet Saints grant I live not long.
poem by William Morris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Mr. Finney's Turnip
Mr. Finney had a turnip,
And it grew, and it grew,
And it grew behind the barn,
And the turnip did no harm.
And it grew, and it grew,
Till it could grow no taller;
Then Mr. Finney took it up
And put it in the cellar.
There it lay, there it lay,
Till it began to rot ;
When his daughter Susie washed it
And put it in the pot.
Then she boiled it and boiled it,
As long as she was able;
Then his daughter Susie took it
And put it on the table.
Mr. Finney and his wife
Both sat down to sup;
And they ate, and they ate,
Until they ate the turnip up.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!