Flower in a garden
A boy on a bicycle
passes by
and whistles and waves,
but without looking at him
or twisting in his direction
the blonde girl
sprays water on her roses.
Two boys walk past
and call her name
and without looking up,
she shears a lavender bush
and sweat runs
into her eyes.
a Motor biker blows
his noisy cycle’s horn
and without leaving her work,
she keeps on shearing plants.
The girl works until dusk
and while the sun’s
last rays fall,
she is happy in her garden
and when the evening star
hangs in the sky
she is thrilled
with the blooming flowers,
of which the scent
hangs in the air.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Don't Little Girl
Don’t fall little girl
Don’t let them see you cry
Stand tall little girl
Keep your head held high
~
Don’t express little girl
Don’t let them see the pain in your eyes
Walk on little girl
Walk through all those pitiful lies
~
Don’t forget little girl
Don’t let them do it to you once more
Protect yourself little girl
There’s plenty more in store
~
Don’t hate little girl
That’s what they want you to do
Smile bright little girl
Try you’re hardest to be true
~
Don’t wait little girl
The world will move on without you
Move on little girl
Do what you need to do
~
Don’t look back little girl
You cant change your past
Open your eyes little girl
Enjoy the world while it lasts
~
Live life little girl
Cause you only got one
Laugh loudly little girl
And put down you damn gun
~
You’re me little girl
Haven’t we learned a lot?
But your also them little girl
In each of us you have fought
~
Some call you hope, little girl
You glow dim then turn bright
Some call you dreams, little girl
Thinking of you every night
~
But to me, little girl
You will always just be me
Guide us, little girl
Cause we both just want to be free
poem by Amy Stuart
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Don’t Little Girl
Don’t fall little girl
Don’t let them see you cry
Stand tall little girl
Keep your head held high
-
Don’t express little girl
Don’t let them see the pain in your eyes
Walk on little girl
Walk through all those pitiful lies
-
Don’t forget little girl
Don’t let them do it to you once more
Protect yourself little girl
There’s plenty more in store
-
Don’t hate little girl
That’s what they want you to do, they want to break you
Smile bright little girl, show them up
Try you’re hardest to be true
-
Don’t wait little girl
The world will move on without you
Move on little girl
Do what you need to do
-
Don’t look back little girl
You can’t change your past
Open your eyes little girl
Enjoy the world while it lasts
-
Live life little girl
Cause you only got one
Laugh loudly little girl
-
You’re you little girl
Haven’t you learned a lot?
But you’re also them little girl
In each of us you have fought
-
Some call you hope, little girl
You glow dim then turn bright
Some call you dreams, little girl
I know you are my dreams, I think of you every night
-
But to me, little girl
You will always just be mine
Guide us, little girl
Cause we both just want to be free
poem by Max Parriott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Garden of Heaven
Gentle fog hovers over like a blanket
It hangs over the trees and kisses the grass
Roses are spotted with dew
This day is new
The sun crawls through the fog
Rays give a healthy glow to the garden
The musky smell of rains from yesterday reach my nose
As I drift through the garden on the cobblestone path
I walk lightly not wanting to disturb the peace
Of the crimson roses and gold freckled leaves
This is a time when all is serene
A time when things are looked at differently
A shabby worn house looks like a regal mansion
A wrinkled old maid looks like a glowing slender queen
So I walk through this garden of heaven and earth
And all I feel is happy and content
poem by Avalin Locke
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Red BMX Bicycle
There was a small boy
In the countryside
Who had a small red BMX bicycle
Kept in the store besides the herbicides
Every evening like a cycle
He would ride down the dusty road
The sun a yellow ball
on the west side
Glittering under the sun`s rays
Was that small
RED BMX BICYCLE
There was a smaller boy
In the countryside
Who had nothing…
Totally nothing
He was a friend to the small boy
Every evening like a cycle
He would wait by the dusty road
To have a chance
On the small red BMX bicycle
His face would be all smiles
Even after falling off that
RED BMX BICYCLE
One day at dusk
The smaller boy
Stood next to the small boy
And asked
“When you grow up, would you give me this bike? ”
The small boy without thinking
Said YES..
There was a smaller boy
In the countryside
One night
He had a bad stomach ache
His mum wiping the tiny streams of tears
That fell from his small face
That was pale…
Due to dust from the dusty road
As he played with his the small boy
And rode on that
RED BMX BICYCLE
There was a small boy
In the countryside…
Now HE is all grown
And in the university
Far away in the city
That RED BMX BICYCLE
Now long gone
Given to some relative, I guess
If I could go back
To those days…
Those days with beautiful sunsets
Back in the countryside
Waiting for my chance
On my red BMX bicycle
Watching that smaller boy fall off
I would give him…
I would hand him that bicycle
And never expect it back
And watch him ride
Towards the beautiful sunset
On my red BMX bicycle
But if I can go back
All will be in vain
Because on that night…in the dark
He struggled with pain
His small heart couldn`t keep on
Outside there was rain
The gods possibly wanted to cleanse
All the evil that night
That took him away
Now I reminisce
As I keep moving on
About that smaller boy
And our small
RED BMX BICYCLE…
poem by Paul Oguda
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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His Gippsland Girl
Now, money was scarce and work was slack
And love to his heart Crept in,
And he rode away on the Northern track
To war with the world and win;
And he vowed by the locket upon his breast
And its treasure, one red gold curl,
To work with with a will in the fartherest West
For the sake of his Gippsland girl.
The hot wind blows on the dusty plain
And the red sun burns above,
But he sees her face at his side again,
And he strikes each blow for love.
He toils by the light of one far-off star
For the winning of one white pearl,
And the swinging pick and the driving bar
Strike home for the Gippsland girl.
With an aching wrist and a back that's bent,
With salt sweat blinding eyes,
'Tis little he'd reek if his life were spent
In the winning so grand a prize.
His shear blades flash and over his hand
The folds of the white fleece curl,
And all day long he sticks to his stand
For the love of his Gippsland girl.
When the shearing's done and the shed's cut out
On Barwon and Narran and Bree;
When the shearer mates with the rouseabout
And the Union man with the free;
When the doors of the shanty, open wide,
An uproarious welcome hurl,
He passes by on the other side
For the sake of his gippsland girl.
When summer lay brown on the Western Land
He rode once more to the South,
Athirst for the touch of a lily hand
And the kiss of a rosebud mouth;
And he sang the songs that shorten the way,
And he envied not king or earl,
And he spared not the spur in his dappled grey
For the sake of his Gippsland girl.
At the garden gate when the shadows fell
His hopes in the dusk lay dead;
'Nelli? Oh! Surely you heard that Nell
Is married a month' they said.
He spoke no word; with a dull, dumb pain
At his heart, and his brain awhirl
He turned his grey to the North again
For the sake of his Gippsland girl.
And he rung the board in a Paroo shed
By the sweat of his aching brow,
But he blued his cheque, for he grimly said,
'There is nothing to live for now.'
And out and away where the big floods start
And the Darling dust-showers swirl,
There's a drunken shearer who broke his heart
Over a Gippsland girl!
William H Ogilvie
poem by William Henry Ogilvie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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War Girls
'There's the girl who clips your ticket for the train,
And the girl who speeds the lift from floor to floor,
There's the girl who does a milk-round in the rain,
And the girl who calls for orders at your door.
Strong, sensible, and fit,
They're out to show their grit,
And tackle jobs with energy and knack.
No longer caged and penned up,
They're going to keep their end up
'Til the khaki soldier boys come marching back.
There's the motor girl who drives a heavy van,
There's the butcher girl who brings your joint of meat,
There's the girl who calls 'All fares please!' like a man,
And the girl who whistles taxi's up the street.
Beneath each uniform
Beats a heart that's soft and warm,
Though of canny mother-wit they show no lack;
But a solemn statement this is,
They've no time for love and kisses
Till the khaki soldier boys come marching back.
poem by Jessie Pope
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In This Garden
In this garden
In this beautiful garden
The flowers and the grass
The stones and the water
The sculptures and all art
Sing a song
A song of beauty
A song of harmony
A song of hope
The wind whistles gently
Is it to the east?
Or is it to the west?
I don’t know and I don’t need to know
All is so beautiful
Hush…
Hush humanity
Hush…
I can feel the scent on y nostrils
The scent of the flowers
The sound of the water nearby welcoming
Peace
In this garden
In this beautiful garden
With beautiful flowers
Where art lives
Hush
Play the music
Let the flowers live the music
Let the drums be heard
Let the music come to life
Play the music
Let it be heard here today
In this garden
In this beautiful garden
With very beautiful flowers
Where art comes to life
poem by Jack Shaka
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ode to My Satyriasis Addiction
I can't walk past a flower can't avoid the smell of grass
I can't walk past a pretty girl without reaching for lips tits and ass
I've got go home and act happy now when my life is in the pits
I'd rather go back with a machete in hand and hack all the liars to bits
I fall in love each day now I do each night i cry my type of cry
I want every girl to love me just me or else I just need to die
I'll never be happy with one lover I'll never be happy with ten
Because it's now plain to my eyes I need lovers again and again
I'll never be happy with one love I'll never be happy with eight
Because I fall in love again and again I love on the very first date
This is an ode to my Satyriasis
Do u understand it's basis?
But I am not the sewer type man you dump your garbage on
I am the flashy butterfly u reach out to grab and it flitters and then
again
It is gone.
poem by Beau Golden
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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New Girl
'New Girl',
call 411,
she's here,
and she's being impressed,
by everyone.
Most girls are jealus.
Most boys just glare.
The 'New Girl',
is alone,
and has no one to talk with,
walk with,
share secrets with,
or have fun with.
The new girl,
is alone.
Let's talk,
let's walk,
lets share secrets with,
lets have fun.
No.
She's the ' New Girl '.
Let's make her feel welcomed,
by laughing,
stocking,
blocking her way,
let's make her get lost,
don't worry,
she'll find her way.
The ' New Girl '
is just a girl,
she's nothing more,
than a ' New Girl ',
nobody likes her,
nobody cares,
everyone just stares,
and the boys,
just glare.
She's the ' New Girl ',
we assume she's mean,
we assume she's naughty,
we assume she's clean.
We think she's snobby,
we think she's weird,
we think she's a nobody,
but that ' New Girl ',
was me.
poem by Jasmine Aira
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Where There's Smoke, There's Failure
So it goes like this,
Guy meets girl.
Guy buys flowers.
Girl puts them in a vase.
Guy buys a ring.
Girl says yes.
Guy goes to work.
Girl goes to work.
Guy meets girl.
Girl meets guy.
Guy and girl fight about girl and guy.
Guy leaves work for new work and gets an apartment by himself.
Girl moves over seas and doesn't have to work any more because she has a new guy and the old guy has to send her money from his new work.
Guy writes poems.
Guy writes about new girl and old girl and new guy and work and old friends.
Guy wants to stop working and sell poems about the stuff in his life so that he can do other stuff in his life without having to go to real work.
Guy does not yet have high selling collection of poems.
Guy goes to work.
Guy meets girl.
Guy buys flowers.
poem by John W. McEwers
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In the gardens of Margaret Robberts
In the gardens of Margaret Robberts
white roman pillars runs
in rows down a lane
and there’s a green domed roof
that throws a long shadow.
Between the plants there are fairies hiding
and their homes are forsaken,
camped off with silver wire
and as if she has escaped
one blows on a copper magical flute.
There are red roses
blooming beautifully
and a citrus odour
coming from the lemon trees
and three boys are proud
of the lemons that they are carrying
and I wonder what is going to happen
when they eat some of them.
In the small chapel
I take my hat from my head
and there are beautiful verses
on the walls
and a round stained glass window
with a golden cross
and points pointing
like a white compass
in all directions
that is possible to determine.
We say a silent prayer
and walk to the bell tower
where you hold the chain
for a photograph
and you pay for cool drink,
chicken pie and spinach quiche
and we are exhausted
from the summer heat
and everything becomes peaceful
and I look at you
while you scatter pink rock salt
over your food
l’Envoi
Later we walk to a place
where angels hang on fine strings
and you sit and relax
on a bench with one painted
against the wall
while I try to catch
everything with the camera
and you smile more beautiful
than any angel,
with rays shining out of your golden eyes
and there’s a cute sunhat
on your head
and your locks fall in auburn strings
past you slender shoulders.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Everywhere in the garden flowers grow in bright colours
Everywhere in the garden flowers grow in bright colours
and in this small paradise the last winter wind blows,
when the air is filled with the smell of jasmine and gardenia
and with each other we are without talking somewhat familiar
when the other world of work and worries is reduced,
when we hear doves sing their songs of love,
when the sun like a red ball returns to its resting place,
when sparrows watch us from tree branches
and the evening star and the darkness comes suddenly
but still we are smitten with each other,
with something intimate in each moment
when the moon hangs red brown
and the I find in you a resting place for my heart,
some joy and happiness in a world full of pain and sorrow.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Shearers Work Hard
The shearers work hard for a living for them never an easy pay
In shearing sheds in the warm weather they work through the heat of the day
At the end of a long shearing Season their backs from constant bending do ache
They work in the evening till nightfall they start shortly after daybreak
The shearers are children of shearers the trade one might say handed down
They enjoy their beer at the weekend in the pub of the nearest bush town
They do seem to enjoy the hard life we make our life choices some say
From shearing shed to shearing shed in the big Country from home they work quite a long way
Some daughters of shearers become shearers one might say they've got shearing in the blood
But it must be a hard way for a woman for to have to earn a livelihood
Yet top women shearers are good at shearing for their shearing feats they are well known
Even with the best of the male shearers they have been known to hold their own
The shearers work hard for a living for them never an easy pay
In the shearing shed they feel hot and sweaty in the sunshine of a humid day.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Girl Like Me
A girl like me will make your world better
A girl like me will make you happy
A girl like me will make you smile everyday.
A girl like me will surround only you in my world
A girl like me will make you laugh nonstop
A girl like me will make time for you.
A girl like me will sit and listen to your words
A girl like me will not play games with you or your heart
A girl like me will always be true to you.
A girl like me will talk to you all night
A girl like me will be the one you can count on to be there for you
A girl like me will always be down for you no matter what.
A girl like me will be the one you can put your trust in
A girl like me will make you my whole world
A girl like me will give you everything I possibly can.
A girl like me needs a king
A girl like me could be your queen
A girl like me could be your everything.
A girl like me will let you have fun
A girl like me will lay with you and just smile
A girl like me will be the one you can just hang out with.
A girl like me will be the one to hold you at night
A girl like me will be the one you can fall asleep with
A girl like me will make you see what's on the brighter side.
A girl like me will keep you outta trouble
A girl like me will be there when no one else will
A girl like me will be the one you can open up to.
A girl like me could be your world that you have been looking for
A girl like me could be right in front of you
A girl like me could be the one you need to survive this life.
A girl like me is me
There is no other girl like me
Take me to be yours and get all of the above.
poem by Kimberly Santistevan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Honey Bees
Sweet when the flowers are blooming
Beautifully and fast they fly
The beauty comes to share
The dance of petals
The songs of beautiful bells
The scent of romantic roses
All the honey bees fly to dance
Singing the beautiful rhymes
Sparkling like the golden light
The sky smiles to see
But when the cloud comes
No more dance of petals
The bells stop to sing
The scent of roses disappeared
They fly to go with stings
No more cheerful dance
Poisons come to spread
Leaving the Fall to end
poem by Vidi Pudinkz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Script
Boy: I have to leave you
Girl: what do you mean?
Boy: I am leaving
Girl: what about us?
Boy: there is no us anymore
Girl: just that?
Boy: yes, I have to go
Girl: I am pregnant
Boy: get an abortion
Girl: I can’t I am a catholic
Boy: You know that I can’t marry you
Girl: why can’t you?
Boy: I am just a boy
Girl: but I am not asking you to marry me
Boy: what do you mean?
Girl: just be the father of my child
Boy: I can’t I am just a boy
Girl: why can’t you?
Boy: I only 13 and I cannot support that child
Girl: I am not asking for support
Boy: what do you mean?
Girl: just be my man
Boy: but I am just a boy
Girl: just love me
Boy: I can’t I don’t really love you
Girl: I hate you
Boy: I hate you too
Girl: I will tell papa
Boy: I tell mama
Girl: I tell the police
Boy: I am leaving
Girl: I tell the world
Boy: go, I am leaving.
Girl: where are you going?
Boy: I am going back to school.
(End of the scene 1)
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sunday Girl
paints her sky light tangerine,
maple laughter evergreen,
frustrated, it's only believing,
and she knows who mind she blows
come on sunday girl
u'll never change the world
leave it girl let's go
guess the flowers know her name
brightest angels placed to shame
must hate her, she had them believing
and she knows wherever she blows
come on sunday girl
u'll never change the world
leave it girl let's go
keeps me high on her shelf
treats me like no one else
she wants me to fly
but i fall, and i fall
and i thought, i thought i had it all
come on sunday girl
u'll never change the world
leave it girl let's go!!
carl bell
song performed by by Fuel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Girl Happy
(words & music by pomus - meade)
Girl happy, yes Im girl happy,
Girl happy, cant you see
Every girl I see looks good to me
What crazy way I were to be
I love a life of nothing but beautiful women
Well Im girl happy, yes Im girl happy,
Girl happy, cant you see
Every time I see a pretty face
My heart just heads for outer space
I need a girl to make my life worth of living
Yes, Im girl happy, yes Im girl happy,
Girl happy, cant you see
Ive been like this since I was just a baby boy
First nurse that rocked my cradle made me jump to joy
Mama keep your daughter out of sight
Im in a lovin mood tonight
I love a life of nothing but beautiful women
Well Im girl happy, yes Im girl happy,
Girl happy, cant you see
Ive been like this since I was just a baby boy
First nurse that rocked my cradle made me jump to joy
Girl happy, well Im girl happy,
Yes Im girl happy, cant you see
Girl happy, said Im girl happy,
Yes Im girl happy, cant you see
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Little girl! ! ! (please read my poems i want to know what u all think)
Little girl don't you cry, everything will be ok
Little girl please just listen to what i have got to say
Little girl make a wish, sit back, watch the stars and pray
Little girl some one will soon come along to help you guide your way
Little girl just relax and go and play
Little girl someone will be there to brighten up your day
Little girl your still young you have plenty of time
Little girl just talk to me then you'll be fine
Little girl im not a perfessional but il try my very best
Little girl i just dont like to see you in this horrible mess
Little girl take my hand, be happy don't be blue
Little girl im sorry to say but it was not true
Little girl dont you look for love, let it come and find you
Little girl you will just have to wait theres nothing else you can do
Little girl please stop sobbing, because you made a mistake
Little girl just remember its an easy thing to make
Little girl you got to beleive that is true
Little girl nobodys perfect not even you
Little girl your so special in your own little way
Little girl don't listen to what anyone else as got to say
Little girl i know it's hard, but please don't you give in
Little girl please be strong, dont ever let him win
Little girl you're not alone, that will always be true
Little girl so young and sweet, I'll always be hear for you
Little girl close your eyes and try and let the past go
Little girl if you dont give it a shot you will never know.
poem by Caz Faulkner
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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That Girl....
I see her walk down the halls everyday
The girl with the dirty blonde hair with black streaks
Her blonde hair cascading down her back like a golden waterfall
The innocent sparkle of those gorgeous pale green eyes
Her strawberry lips make her lovely words drift in my head
But the only thing I know is she's that girl......
Even though I have no idea who she is she's still beautiful
Oh I know who she is now.....shes me from 4 years ago
But to me she'll forever be that girl.....
poem by Justina Nicole Haner
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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