In dry Namaqualand
In dry Namaqualand, in the stretched out paradise,
there are pretty flowers showing their faces
that rise after the first rain in that semi-desert,
appearing for days long in colourful splendour
when the sun shines over the hillocks.
Early in the morning tourists come when the sun is out
when wild flowers year after year sprout again,
to leave in their busses in the late afternoon
in dry Namaqualand,
in this way farmers are visited without any sign of respect
are trampled upon by every jolly John with a vehicle license
and later the visitors become a pain
while the local farmers wish for the flowers to languish away
rather than to have to point them out
in dry Namaqualand.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Namaqualand And The Atlantic 10.2.2008
Sunday 28 September 2008
……………….Namaqualand’s Beautiful Town Springbok
Springbok is the brightest crystal and
sparkling diamonds shining in pristine
beauty, blue skies and green emeralds,
punctuated by dollops of golden-yellow
and orange flowers, framed by dappled
rocks and sun-kissed hillocks; I’ve lost
my heart to Springbok
enclosed within the sweet embrace of
Namaqualand’s brightest flowers, a playful
breeze welcoming us with velvet touches;
driving into fields of green, the beauty of the
scene – brightest purple explosions amongst
sun-coloured flowers, a kaleidoscope of sensual
delight, mountain ridges representing
colours in cymatics, illustrating the melodies
created by colourful harmonies of chromatic
colours – a sapphire sky stretched over lime-
green gorse, rugged mountain edges, a musical
composition of delicious colour themes; then
all becoming a patterned carpet in shades of
green and luminous cream…
A tapestry landscape in purple and yellow, flowers
become a smile and laughter in the landscape,
without flowers the land looks serious, austere,
add the giggles of giddy yellow, the twittering of
miniature pinks, purple splashes of full-throated
laughter, and the land starts smiling, welcoming
us….
Wednesday 1 October 2008
…………….Watching the Atlantic
Watching the white foam of the bridal sea, the
rolling cloak of a magical maid, sparkling with
diamonds afar, the hem of her seawater dress
marked by mocha and cream, framed by wet
rocks glistening in golden sun
I’m sitting here looking upon nature’s mystery,
the bride herself is nowhere to be seen, only
waves of cloth undulating and breaking cease-
lessly, only the voice of the bridegroom is heard
in the low baritone and -
Wooden bass of the rolling and breaking waves,
the bride’s voice is quiet, her laughter is caught
in the giddy giggles of yellow flowers adorning
the land, her shy expectation is depicted in blue
flowers interspersed between
Orange and purple daisies and blossoms in pink,
the guests are all ranged upon white cottonwool
clouds drifting about in a blue, luminous sky, the
preparations for a celestial feast are complete,
I’m dreaming, the feast
Will begin…
poem by Margaret Alice
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Flowers
(orbison/dees)
When I was a boy I ran among the flowers
Looking left and right at the bright array
I played through the spring, whiled away the hours
Lingered with the flowers every day
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, lifes bouquet
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, along the way
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, lifes bouquet
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, along the way
When the summer ends and the storms of life are over
When the winter comes and the petals fall away
They may write it on my stone, he was just a roller
But he stopped to pick some flowers along the way
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, lifes bouquet
Flowers, picked some flowers, along the way
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Capeweed
Originally from South Africa and quite pretty indeed
Those flowers in Spring that cover the paddocks they are known as capeweed
With bright yellow petals and a dark brown heart
From all others quite easy to tell them apart.
Unwanted in Australia or 'twould seem that way
About them the farmers have no kinds words to say
But like thistles they survive deadly toxic spray
Though quite pretty to look at on a bright Spring day.
No strangers to the paddocks they are quite well known
And they have a beauty that is of their own
In late Winter and Spring in abundance to be seen
Their bright yellow flowers dapple Nature's own green.
The farmers cannot kill them off though hard they do try
And with each passing year they seem to multiply
In the paddocks they seem to dance in the breezes of Spring
When the weather is warming and the nesting birds sing.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dearth Of Bees
Spring, and pretty flowers have opened up, even those
that pretend they are not in a loving disposition.
Not many bees around anymore because of chemicals
farmers spray on crops many have gone metro and lost
interest, fly low over still water so they can admire their
flying skill, or sit on the sunny wall of my house full of
self admiration; some hang languidly around a honey jar.
The few that still take interest in beautiful flowers are
exhausted and dropp dead long before the day is over.
Pretty flowers close petals over moist carpel and hope
for a better luck tomorrow.
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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One Who Rejects Christ
There's farmers and there's farmers,
There's many a field and field,
But none of the farmers round about
Can haul such harvest-wagons out
As I from an acre's yield.
There's plenty and plenty of farmers
That leave the ground by the fence,
Thinking it's nice if a patch of roses
Should scratch out the hay and tickle their noses
With nice little wild-rose scents.
I'm not like other farmers,
I make my farming pay;
I never go in for sentiment,
And seeing that roses yield no rent
I cut the stuff away.
A very good thing for farmers
If they would learn my way;
For crops are all that a good field grows,
And nothing is worse than a sniff of rose
In the good strong smell of hay.
poem by John Crowe Ransom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Farmers Daughter
Written by brian wilson.
I could come from miles away
Aint got (aint got, aint got)
No place to stay (place to stay, place to stay)
Glad to (glad to, glad to)
Help you plow your fields (help you plow, help you plow)
Farmers daughter (farmers daughter, farmers daughter)
Might be (might be, might be)
Just a couple of days (couple of days, couple of days)
Clean up (clean up, clean up)
Rest and on my way (on my way, on my way)
Thank you (thank you, thank you)
And Im must obliged (much obliged, much obliged)
Farmers daughter (farmers daughter, farmers daughter)
Mmmm-mmm-mmm-mmm-mmmmm
Mmmm-mmm-mmm-mmm-mmmmm
So long (so long, so long)
Better leave your land (leave your land, leave your land)
Many thanks (many thanks, many thanks)
It was mighty grand (mighty grand, mighty grand)
I do (hope to, hope to)
Hope to see you again (see you again see you again)
Farmers daughter (farmers daughter, farmers daughter)
Oh oh
Farmers daughter (farmers daughter, farmers daughter)
Oh oh
Farmers daughter (farmers daughter, farmers daughter)
song performed by by Fleetwood Mac
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Parents (a poem to sing)
Owning lands
moist soil
farmers
vow to sow.
Spreading seeds
all over
for healthy plants
to grow.
Watering the saplings
fertilising
good
for the health of plants.
Pruning them
and then
amidst the Godly chants.
Buds blossom
into flowers
fragrance
spreading
to and fro.
Farmers happy
rejoice flowers
blessed by
HIS graceful show.
---x----
All rights reserved/Tribhawan Kaul
poem by Tribhawan Kaul
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Early Morning Breeze
I open up my door to greet the early morning sun
Closing it behind me and away I do run
To the meadow where the meadow lark is singing in the tree
In the meadow I go walking in the early morning breeze
I cup my hands to catch a multi-colored butterfly
Perched upon the petals of flowers growing wild
Freeing it I watch it as it flies away from me
To visit with the flowers in the early morning breeze
Chorus:
Rainbow colored flowers kissed with early morning sun
The aster and the dahlia and wild geraniums
Drops of morning due still linger on the iris leaves
In the meadow where Im walking in the early morning breeze
Misty-eyed I look about the meadow where I stray
For its there I find the courage to greet the coming day
For there among the flowers I kneel gently to my knees
To have a word with God in the early mornig breeze
2nd chorus:
A rainbow colored meadow kissed with early morning sun
The aster and the dahlia and wild geraniums
Drops of morning due still linger on the iris leaves
In the meadow where Im walking in the early morning breez
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When New Year Comes
When New Year Comes
Everybody Shivers
In the month of January
Which is cold and Airy
In February winter get’s Weary
Prepares for Leaving
Paving way for spring to come
In the month of March
Flowers loom Large
April comes
Summer knocks on the Door
When May comes,
Sun Brightens
Mangoes ripe and Juicy
Long hot days
Make June very tiring
Holidays for Children
All wait for Rain
Monsoon at its Peak
When July arrives
Rain brings Smile
August is the month of Freedom
Sometimes sticky sometimes Hot
In September one feels
Better then August
We call it Autumn
One see’s Flowers
Which are colourful and Rosy
October is the festival Month
Weather is good
Winter getting Ready
November makes everybody Happy
Everybody enjoys
Lights of Deepawali(Festival of Light)
In the Cold month of December
Christmas celebrated
Throughout the the World
Everybody says goodbye to the year
Welcomes New Year
On the night of 31’st December
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Farmers Daughter
I could come from miles away
Aint got (aint got, aint got)
No place to stay (place to stay, place to stay)
Glad to (glad to, glad to)
Help you plow your fields (help you plow, help you plow)
Farmers daughter (farmers daughter, farmers daughter)
Might be (might be, might be)
Just a couple of days (couple of days, couple of days)
Clean up (clean up, clean up)
Rest and on my way (on my way, on my way)
Thank you (thank you, thank you)
And Im must obliged (much obliged, much obliged)
Farmers daughter (farmers daughter, farmers daughter)
Mmmm-mmm-mmm-mmm-mmmmm
Mmmm-mmm-mmm-mmm-mmmmm
So long (so long, so long)
Better leave your land (leave your land, leave your land)
Many thanks (many thanks, many thanks)
It was mighty grand (mighty grand, mighty grand)
I do (hope to, hope to)
Hope to see you again (see you again see you again)
Farmers daughter (farmers daughter, farmers daughter)
Oh oh
Farmers daughter (farmers daughter, farmers daughter)
Oh oh
Farmers daughter (farmers daughter, farmers daughter)
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Purple Flowers
Purple Flowers
To my Violette
Memory;
Of my mother.
Alive and laughing pretty,
putting flowers in a vase,
water for the roots.
Why mommy, why do you do that?
A little boy full of wonder___
life can be like that.
So I can save them and see them,
because I love you.
Picking purple flowers,
purple flowers in the rain,
purle flowers hide my pain.
You do love me dont you mother,
purple flowers,
stain.
Charles R Hice
Copyright ©2006 Charles Hice
poem by Charles Hice
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Flowers Galore
Are there not flowers like the rose,
Those look prettier and smell better?
Yet, people do not prefer them,
Nor nurture them in tonnes for use.
Are there not flowers in the wild,
With gorgeous looks and perfumes great,
Whose birth is known to herds that graze?
God only knows why they are there!
Are there not flowers hidden well,
In forests deep and dense and dark,
But are found rarely like orchids,
Those look so splendid to the eye?
Are there not flowers raised in fields
Or found in meadows, lawns so green,
And sold as garlands for deities,
Or strewn on tombs and cemeteries?
And yet, some cannot even bud
Or blossom into flowers big;
While some get trampled under feet,
A few adorn altars of God!
Galore are flowers that we see,
Whose hues, shapes, sizes vary much;
God makes each petal, leaf and bud
With beauty that no words can tell.
Each one bears witness to God’s pow’r,
And smiles with freshness with each shower;
Each one is beautiful a flow’r;
And decks the planet earth’s bower!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 12-19-2008
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Showery October Afternoon
It is a showery afternoon water drips from the trees
But it's not cold a mild Spring day perhaps twenty degrees
In late October in the hills you do get days like these
When morning sun give way to showers though cool enough the breeze.
The black faced cuckoo shrike is back from places far away
A bird you never can mistake in cloak of silver gray
And in the wood the high pitched voice of the gray currawong
These birds you come to recognize by their distinctive song.
On the high gum tree in their nest young magpies chirp and call
And October in the Dandenongs the loveliest month of all
The high paddocks of Belgrave South are looking lush and green
And Mother Nature beautiful as lovely as I've seen.
The migratory welcome swallows back in the hills again
They fly low o'er the paddocks the flies are low in rain
My favourite Season of the year has always been the Spring
In storm and rain and sunshine the wild birds chirp and sing
This morning pretty butterflies flitted around the flowers
But the afternoon turned cloudy and sun gave way to showers
In October in the Dandenongs you do get days like these
A day of showers and sun shine water dripping off the trees.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Men And Monsters
How does passion ignite the days
Of the year, and flowers of the rain?
My offering to some is a fellowship,
Into many days of the year, that are rays.
They'd shine for you like capsized boats,
Hollering like monkeys in quicksand.
The day strongly empowers the night
With verses of young damage.
What monster sheriffs this county?
I see verses and symbols of a long time
Going into my heart as one sign.
One makes a man seem in trouble
When one observes him from faraway.
They squirm in from under the clouds,
Opening their messages so enjoyed by
The heart.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If Flowers Turn
Flowers for a girl who was placed in the dark
Flowers from a world that had taken her heart
They looked so pretty, but the blood stained them
If flowers turn
Throw them away, throw them away
If flowers turn
Throw them away, throw them away
Pull the braids untie all of the pain from your hair
Don't let the buzzards try or they'll take what's been there
Signs appear, and the worst you fear
If flowers turn
Throw them away, throw them away
If flowers turn
Throw them away, throw them away
Don't look to the dark all of the pain that you want is here
Uncover your heart so the feeling can disappear
The worst winds are calling, they need you they want you
I'm in the dark and I can see a thing for miles
If flowers turn
Throw them away, throw them away
If flowers turn
Throw them away, throw them away
I know, I've seen the pain in your heart
Because I died for us
song performed by by Ours
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Flowers - Giving It All Away B-side
Renegades and shifting shades
And the lights in your face
And you friends talk lying
But some of them got flowers in their room
When its on and youre falling on every floor
That youre hoping to score
And youre every night ? ? ?
But some of them got flowers in their room
But some of them got flowers in their room
But some of them got flowers in their room
Hear the word that the man on the stairs
Knows your every affair and is holding your hand
And he says some of them got flowers in their room
And he screams in a face
But the smile on the face is cool and its cold
And it reads vacated
And some of them got flowers in their room
And some of them got flowers in their room
And some of them got flowers in their room
And I take someone home and I cant be alone
And theres faces to please and I walk on the knees
Oh you see, I got no flowers in my room
And I laugh with my mouth and I laugh with you
But the joke was a joke that I never really knew
Some of them got flowers in their room
Some of them got flowers in their room
Some of them got flowers in their room
song performed by by Ocean Colour Scene
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wild flowers
A speck of Kalahari desert
sun baked and stretching
as far as the eye could see
where winds had blown
red-brown sand before
the air was sweet with the odour
of thousands of wild flowers.
Everywhere were different colours,
shapes and sizes
and nature had set its garden
right there in the desert of Namakwaland
and the miracle that a few showers
of rain brought
stretched out all around me.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We Worship
Why do we worship? The man who does this
Is a person who believes in belief itself;
A mind races with his hood and wage,
Flowers are mostly strong in their talents
Like the people’s lies and eerie feelings.
We brought kinds of flowers, to worship us
And so we do not worship them;
Their faces turn to their star, in fixed ways,
Living inside the shell of their dreams,
With us and our gardens that are fetched.
Then the sun rages on them, living with us
Is shame and disaster, for we worship
And the flowers wilt and die,
Reminding us of splendour and heaven,
The graves of the flowers.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What, I sometimes wonder, would it be like if I lived in a country where winter is a matter of a few chilly days and a few weeks' rain; where the sun is never far away, and the flowers bloom all year long?
quote by Anna Neagle
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cut Flowers
If you love me - please never bring me cut flowers
Because I know that they will die soon after a few hours
I would feel that whatever the flowers represent
Would be equal to the time we have left to spend
Straight stems, soft petals and a lush green leaf
The hours and minutes are numbered - you better believe
Picking a flower is like a sure sentence to death
Like taking a fish out of water watching his last breath
Cut down their life brutally shortened with a sharp knife
All hope diminished knowing that they will not survive
Sure the flowers may get nourishment from the water in the vase
But their life is over as they know it in just a few days
So do not buy any cut flowers for me pretty please
I rather watch them outside visited by many bees
It is so beautiful to see them sway softly outside
And so sad to see them slowly die and lose their pride
© 2011
poem by Kristina Louisa Carr
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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