En.Citatepedia^®.ro

During that golden spring [1]

We had a place in the garden
where the fairest lilies grows,
and there was one crimson rose
and of the garden hose you were the warden

always bright and sunny and never sadden
and at times I held you close
tickled with a feather on your ear and nose
and you became either gladden or totally madden

at times shrieking, whimpering
could claw, bite or scream
while that feather was circling and stirring
and in return you would rub ice cream
in my face, in any place during that golden spring,
but now it so long ago, like a far off dream.

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Last Place God Made

Ive seen the best of times
Ive seen the worst of times
been around and Ive taken my chances
(but) I could never be tied down
Too many questions--not enough answers
Then I laid eyes on you
I knew right there and then
This would be more than a passing encounter
My fate is bound to yours
Ive found a cause right here
And if this is the last place God made
And yours is the last face I see
Just feeling close to you
Thats good enough for me
Weve seen the best of times
Weve seen the worst of times
Been through hell and high water together
Diamond bright and tear stained memries
These are the times Ill remember forever
If you believe in me--like I believe in you
Without a care for the why or the wherefore
I will be there for you
And youll be there for me
And if this is the last place God made
And yours is the last face I see
Just feeling close to you
Its good enough for me
If this is the last place God made
You know its the only place I want to be
Just feeling close to you
Thats good enough for me
If this is the last place God made
You know its the only place I want to be
Just feeling close to you
Its good enough for me

song performed by by Peter Cetera
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Less’er Love, And A Rose, In My Garden

I am gardener…. I prune, sheer… at times
…at times I have lesser love
And in less is more, very much more
…………….and there is this garden
..the garden, ours by the Grace of the Life Force, supreme God
..there is this Rose, and those Roses there… all chose a place to be
I, the Gardner choose the blooms from which Rose goes to the glass next my bed
I love this Rose, and less but similar those other
….they decide when to bloom
In sping late winter their souls weep, as I sheer, as I must
In spring and summer and early winter we rejoice as they bloom abundantly
…..every night one bloom from The Rose that’ad also chosen me
in the glass of water next my bed read to me, and comfort me
the delicate-, bewitching fragrance the bookmark for tomorrow night
I love that Rose as my chosen

I am gardener…. I prune, sheer… at times

…..only one Rose reads to me… I a lesser Gardener
Lesser, cause I’m only able t’love one Rose…..this Rose here
….those Roses there, some’r lessor Roses, some’r superior Roses, are my friends
Lesser in texture, shape and fiber and fragrance
Some superior in texture, or shape and or fiber and or fragrance
Friends equal in dimension with the Rose, but less in love than the Rose
…..every night one bloom from The Rose, that’s chosen me
in the glass of water next my bed read to me, and comfort me
the delicate-, bewitching fragrance the bookmark for tomorrow night
I love that Rose as my chosen

I, the gardener…. I prune, sheer…. at times
These other Roses who chose my garden
...so valuable in a muchness o’ Friendship,
…the quality their love much the same as that The Rose
Different the lesser my love, even though my caring equals that towards The Rose
We are blessed, those of us in the garden
…the magnificence of this garden in my life is the sumtotal of you all in my garden
I drink your fragrance intoxicated with love
I love The Rose, and my friends these other Roses in the garden Bless this love

poem by Johan Fourie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Life's Grander Scheme Of Things...

I feel like I'm a feather dancing in the air
My tresses flow behind me as if they have no care
I free-fall through the centuries, the aged times of old
I tremble with the breezes breath I fancy feeling bold
I tickle the children's' nose I flow around their ears
I buzz atop a horses back, I dangle within fears
I travel in dimensions and flow among the kings
I even scrape the golden crowns of Camelot and queens
I fall from the turrets...thrown from a princess high
Then settle in the moat below and float among her sighs
I once again redeem my place in breezes pick-me-up
I flow much further as I light to settle on a pup
The flight just then is tickled with tongues that seek me out
As children of Sir Arthur laugh...pick me up and shout
'Look at thee Mum they shout'...'We found this pretty feather'
'Come rejoice and sing aloud'...as songs of children gather
Just to travel and be free of all that's cumbersome
Brings the dreams to focus at all I've gone and done
I merely want to float away...sometimes its just a dream
Its out-of-focus wishes in life's grander scheme of things.

poem by Kristin Nicole RothDavis
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Where the passion flower grows

Lay down on your pillow
and turn the lights down low
let me take you to the garden
where the passion flower grows

Close your eyes and enter dreams
as love's emotion sets the scene
and flitters through the garden
where the passion flower grows

Touch the tender petals
of the flower as she grows
a tentative endeavour
as your feelings overflow

Let me draw you to the place
where ecstasy can be embraced
the beauty of the garden
where the passion flower grows

Feel your mind exploding
in the heavy scented air
experience the shiver
as your captured unaware

A little touch of heaven
where imagination flows
the valley in the garden
where the passion flower grows.

poem by Charles M. Moore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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One Perfect Rose

A single flower she dropped when we met
and in her hands she held a pipe, a water hose
that splashed me by accident quiet wet
while at my feet lay a perfect rose.

I wanted to take her for a spin on my motorbike,
to experience the sun and wind in a special way,
wanted to give her a present that she would like
but she giggled and with a garden hose began to play

and like little children we ran up and down
laughing and having fun
and never such exuberance I have known
from the time that my dating had begun

and later when I returned her rose her eyes did propose
a tender embrace, maybe a kiss and I held her close.

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Three Flower Petals

When saw I yesterday walking apart
In a leafy place where the cattle wait?
Something to keep for a charm in my heart-
A little sweet girl in a garden gate.
Laughing she lay in the gold sun's might,
And held for a target to shelter her,
In her little soft fingers, round and white,
The gold-rimmed face of a sunflower.

Laughing she lay on the stone that stands
For a rough-hewn step in that sunny place,
And her yellow hair hung down to her hands,
Shadowing over her dimpled face.
Her eyes like the blue of the sky, made dim
With the might of the sun that looked at her,
Shone laughing over the serried rim,
Golden set, of the sunflower.

Laughing, for token she gave to me
Three petals out of the sunflower;-
When the petals are withered and gone, shall be
Three verses of mine for praise of her,
That a tender dream of her face may rise
And lighten me yet in another hour,
Of her sunny hair and her beautiful eyes,
Laughing over the golden sunflower.

poem by Archibald Lampman
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O! What a nose!

People talk about a running nose
I'm talking about a long facial cargo
She’s got a nose longer than my longest toes
With a mission of being nosy as time goes

Please don’t get close
When she discloses
Her loud snoring doze
Don’t be like the heroes

Goodness gracious
O! What a nose!
Goodness gracious
What a precious nose pose!

Painted as red as a romantic rose
Standing long like my garden pipe hose
And as she sniffs, sneezes and exposes
I cannot help thinking of Pinocchio’s nose

Goodness gracious
O! What a nose!
Goodness gracious
Red and long when it snows

And this nose is nosy
She can smell a rat, cat or a bat
When you are getting cozy
In your one bedroom flat

O! What a nose!
In and out juice flows
And when she smells the air
They all cannot help but stare

Copyright 2008 - Sylvia Chidi

poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Love Sonnet 58 There is a garden, verdant, beautiful,

There is a garden, verdant, beautiful,
With roses red and violets so blue,
The same as in love songs, so plentiful,
Except that in this garden there is you;
As I lay with the lilies, swaying free,
And tender breeze exudes with their fragrance,
I feel a thousand brides surrounding me,
Like Solomon, if all to wed at once;
Methinks, a moonlit plain is best of climes,
When not in night of darkness, such disgrace,
And so, true to the practice of the times,
I plan to bribe the moon to stay in place;
…..Talking to plants is good, as I recall,
…..At times, you would not talk to me at all.

poem by Reyvrex Questor Reyes
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Venus in the Garden

'Twas at early morning,
The dawn was blushing in her purple bed,
When in a sweet, embowered garden
She, the fairest of the goddesses,
The lovely Venus,
Roamed amongst the roses white and red.
She sought for flowers
To make a garland
For her golden head.

Snow-white roses, blood-red roses,
In that sweet garden close,
Offered incense to the goddess:
Both the white and the crimson rose.

White roses, red roses, blossoming:
But the fair Venus knew
The crimson roses had gained their hue
From the hearts that for love had bled;
And the goddess made a garland
Gathered from the roses red.

poem by James Weldon Johnson
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In the spring garden

In the spring garden
~
In the spring garden
Birds sing and chatter
While flowers raise their heads
To greet the morning sun
A garden filled with colour bright
A garden which now fills with life
The bee and the butterfly hover
From flower to flower gathering nectar
Seeding the flowers blossom
Throughout the spring garden
The dew glistens upon the grass
While the wind gently rolls in the tree
All the world slowly waking
Soon to this bounty of great beauty
Every hue from natures pallet
Is here free for all to see
In the spring garden

poem by Matthew Holloway
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The Garden Refused

There is a garden made for our delight,
Where all the dreams we dare not dream come true.
I know it, but I do not know the way.
We slip and tumble in the doubtful night,
Where everything is difficult and new,
And clouds our breath has made obscure the day.

The blank unhappy towns, where sick men strive,
Still doing work that yet is never done;
The hymns to Gold that drown their desperate voice;
The weeds that grow where once corn stood alive,
The black injustice that puts out the sun:
These are our portion, since they are our choice.

Yet there the garden blows with rose on rose,
The sunny, shadow-dappled lawns are there;
There the immortal lilies, heavenly sweet.
O roses, that for us shall not unclose!
O lilies, that we shall not pluck or wear!
O dewy lawns untrodden by our feet!

poem by Edith Nesbit
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Be Glad Your Nose is on Your Face

Be glad your nose is on your face,
not pasted on some other place,
for if it were where it is not,
you might dislike your nose a lot.

Imagine if your precious nose
were sandwiched in between your toes,
that clearly would not be a treat,
for you'd be forced to smell your feet.

Your nose would be a source of dread
were it attached atop your head,
it soon would drive you to despair,
forever tickled by your hair.

Within your ear, your nose would be
an absolute catastrophe,
for when you were obliged to sneeze,
your brain would rattle from the breeze.

Your nose, instead, through thick and thin,
remains between your eyes and chin,
not pasted on some other place--
be glad your nose is on your face!

poem by Jack Prelutsky
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Golden Daffodil's

Oh, what joy my eyes behold
To see such beauty there unfold,
And my heart with pleasure fills
When sun from ebbing winter days
Bring forth the Golden Daffodil's.

Lovely flower, majestic king
Who God awakes in early spring
So cloth'd in all your golden hue
No flower on the garden scene
Is as beautiful as you.

With silent voices and knodding heads
Gayly dancing in swirling beds
Your beauty in the garden spills,
And lifts the lonely hearts of all
Oh, Daffodil's, Oh, Daffodil's.

Dazzling in your sunny place
You fill the garden with poise and grace
Your smell is sweet, your color bold,
And for the often pensive mood
You are the flower to the soul.

All too soon under an early spring sky
Leaves will yellow, crumble and die
Sweet flower that we long to stay
Slips away in peaceful sleep
To stir our hearts another day.

By
Richard Netherland Cook

poem by Richard Netherland Cook
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Under The Ivy

It wouldn't take me long
To tell you how to find it
To tell you where we'll meet
This little girl inside me
Is retreating to her favourite place
Go into the garden, go under the ivy
Under the leaves, away from the party
Go right to the rose
Go right to the white rose
I sit here in the thunder
The green on the gray
I feel it all around me
And it's not easy for me
To give away a secret
It's not safe
To go into the garden, go under the ivy
Under the leaves, away from the party
Go right to the rose
Go right to the white rose
Go into the garden, go under the ivy
Go under the leaves with me
Go right to the rose
Go right to the white rose
I'll be waiting for you
It wouldn't take me long
To tell you how to find it

song performed by by Kate Bush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Our Marriage Is Our Garden

Our marriage is our garden.
I want our garden to be beautiful.
With lush green grass,
With fragrant and colourful flowers.
A place of solace.
A place of peace.
A place of love.
Our garden must be watered.
Not watered too much.
As that would saturate the ground.
Not watered too little.
As that would leave the plants wilted.
And our grass barren.
But regularly.
So the flowers can stand tall
It must be weeded.
It must be maintained.
It must be loved.
We will plant seeds in our garden.
For new life makes any garden more beautiful and diverse.
We can harvest the fruit trees, but our harvest is limited
If we eat all the fruit too quick,
Then we must wait until the next harvest to eat again.
If we don't pick the fruit when it is right, it will spoil.
Our harvest is for our family.
If I eat all the fruit myself, then they will starve.
If we eat too much we will get sick.
If we eat what we are supposed to, then we will be healthy.
If we do not monitor the fruit,
Then someone might eat more than their share.
If we do not stand guard in our garden,
A thief might come into the garden to steal our fruit.
The fruit for our family.
For their garden must be barren and their crops have spoiled.
Our garden will stand the test of all seasons.
As all gardens do.
Another garden will also experience the same seasons.
Just at different times.
All gardens face rain.
All gardens get sun.
It is the rain that nourishes the garden and helps it's life to grow.
But our garden must be maintained regularly.
Only artificial things require no maintenance.
The artificial has no life.
It is fake, it is plastic.
Our garden needs to be real.
So life may grow and continue to grow.
So one day our children can enjoy a garden of their own.
For them and their children.
May their garden be overflowing with life and love.
And be the most beautiful garden in the world.

poem by Ryan Lee Morris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In the Garden, With My Father

It is spring.
As in my garden, I stand.
In the garden -
My father is there;
... though long since gone...
He IS there.
I tend to the weeds,
The veggies and flowers...
He is there.

I never understood him
(as I should have, could have) ...
Until now,
Here, in the garden.
Where I, like he, work the soil.
I've come just recently
(these last few years)
To enjoy and love my garden so.
- I am not as surprised afterall, as I would have thought,
To find him here.
Here, in the garden.
He loved his garden very much.......
I - at that early age of restless youth - had no use
For such slow moving things.

But now, I see, and myself move, at a much slower pace.
Therefore, it is him I am here and now able to see,
In the garden.
Watching it all grow, so peacefully.

It is somewhat sad, that now,
When I can no longer tell him,
I understand.
For I have come to find... I love the garden too,
Just as much as he;
And we both always will.
My father - standing in the garden -
I now know.
After all these long years.
And I've missed him so;
But, how wonderful to find,
He IS here...
In the garden, our garden,
Always, with me.

poem by Smoky Hoss
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Blue Boy

Lady called the blue boy, love,
She took him home
Made himself an idol, yes,
So he turned to stone
Like a pilgrim she travelled
Ta place her flowers
Before his granite grace
And she prayed aloud for love
To waken in his face
In his face, oh __________
Sometimes in the evening
He would read to her
Roll her in his arms
And give his seed to her
She would wake in the morning
Without him
And go to the window
And look out thru the pain
But the statue in her garden
He always looked the same
He looked the same, ah _________
Bring her boots of leather
And she will dance for him
Shyly from a feather fan
Shell glance for him
Here he comes after midnight
To find her again
He will come a few times more
Till he finds a lady statue
Standing in a door
In her door, oh __________

song performed by by Joni Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Garden

My garden is a special place
Where morning blows its breeze
And sun dries the morning mists.
Where different plants and shrubs
Soothe the sight with flowers and buds.

My garden is a special place
Where busy bees fly and kiss
The beauty of flowers their nectar sipped
Where butterflies fly high and low
Attracting passers on the go.

My garden is a special place
Where I laid my worries and grief
Where I spend hours of peace
Where I hum with total bliss
Where I go and my stress ceased.

poem by Rose de Ramar
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Birthday Song

Written by kim & ricki wilde
Ooh ooh ooh
Ooh ooh ooh
Ooh ooh ooh
Ooh ooh ooh
Ooh ooh ooh
Ooh ooh ooh
Theres a forest, a beautiful place
The sun always shines upon your face
And the wind blows away
The troubles inside your mind
Youll find your secret garden
A place that nobody knows (nobody knows)
Where you can go
(scarlett) the world looks bright today but one day youll want to cry
(scarlett) (ah-ah) and when your sky looks grey theres one thing I hope youll know
Theres a place you can go
In the distance, your life in the wings
Who knows what emotions it will bring
But the secrets you hold will help you through anything
(ah-ah) youll find your secret garden
(ah-ah) a place that nobody knows (nobody knows)
Where you can go
(scarlett) the world looks bright today but one day youll want to cry
(scarlett) (ah-ah) and when your sky looks grey theres one thing I hope youll know
Theres a place you can go
Ooh ooh ooh
Ooh ooh ooh
Ooh ooh ooh
Ooh ooh ooh
Ooh ooh ooh
Ooh ooh ooh
Oh so dont be afraid
If you trust the voice inside of you
Itll guide you on your way
On your way
Ooh ooh ooh
Ooh ooh ooh
Ooh ooh ooh
Ooh ooh ooh
Ooh ooh ooh
Ooh ooh ooh
(scarlett) the world looks bright today but one day youll want to cry
(scarlett) (ah-ah) and when your sky looks grey theres one thing I hope youll know
(scarlett) youll find your secret garden, somewhere that you can go
(scarlett) (ah-ah) somewhere where you can grow
Scarlett
Theres a place you can go
Ooh ooh ooh
Ooh ooh ooh
Ooh ooh ooh
Ad lib to fade

song performed by by Kim Wilde
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Childhood Garden

my childhood garden

my childhood garden
lush and green
it was so happy it made me scream
my joy and hopes
and all my mopes
my childhood garden

my childhood garden
with the ups and downs
when i jumped i could not touch the ground
with my purle ponys
it made it homey
my childhood garden

my childhood garden
flying high
with the little lies
the grass fine
up in the sky my kite
my childhood garden

my childhood garden
now in the past
i now know that it can never last
now as i get taller
it was differnt when i was smaller
my childhood garden

poem by Danielle Eager
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