At Her Zenith
She is at her zenith
No one knows beneath
She keeps it confined to her breath
She at her best and lives with
Garden is beautiful with flowers
Might have come up with fresh showers
But all work done by her dedicated efforts
Where she find herself with nature in rapport
Is the new birth expected in garden?
Her beautiful insight helped even
Nothing to worry and nothing to get hurt
Good result and no one can subvert
She is graceful with all her acts
Where an art remains fact
Flowers speak for all the grace
One can smile with shine on face
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal

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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

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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

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Flowers, Beautiful Flowers
Life is that precious and divine,
Souls journey as per schedule,
Visit places and people,
smile and laugh,
Weep and cry together,
Come alone and go alone,
Nothing brought, nothing taken!
Just it is like flower,
Blossom and spread its fragrance,
Put a signature on several hearts,
Gone flower, never come,
Memory of its beauty,
Aura remains all the time everywhere
In hearts of those who had seen it!
People too are like flowers,
That flowers in the garden of divine,
Some are beautiful,
Some by their wisdom and knowledge,
Some with deeds and virtues,
Flowers, beautiful flowers of God's Garden!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar

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Flowers or garden
There are beautiful blossoms
In the garden
And the garden looks gorgeous
I often think
Whether it is flowers which make
A garden beautiful or
It is a garden that enhances the beauty of flowers
But it is certain that both are
Incomplete without each other.
poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir

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In Beautiful Garden
Love blossoms in beautiful garden
Flowers boom in colorful shape even
Some fully spread and some just coming out
This is how the life brings change about
Do the flowers need any show?
Do they need some support to grow?
Not at all as it is natural change
It has taken place with the emergence of age
Flowers have natural tendency to attract
It is argument supported by fact
Whether you like or dislike, it can’t be denied
The real fact remains to be seen and can’t be lied
Flowers too need good environment
Lovely people to look at with nice comments
If nature does not find its lovers
Its importance will not be lost however
It has direct relation with good music
What ever seen and observed is accepted as basic
Think of cool breeze in early morning with bird’s voice
You may definitely dislike the little disturbing noise
It makes you to sink over lost opportunities
There is enough of time to think over its futilities
But some changes are always welcome
They are certain and bound to come
In life you may need partner
It has to happen sooner or later
If that is synchronized to the tune
Life will become sweet with fortune
Garden may look barren without flowers
Land may look deserted without rain showers
It is natural blessings that you got to respond
Your wish and goal definitely corresponds
Life has to be challenging with enterprise
It must move on even with surprises
How a flower can be looked with out fragrance?
Life too will be looked without charm without its presence
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal

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The sky and stars
The sky is studded with bright stars
Though with little shine but very far
Beyond my imagination and reach
I still go for it and try as such
I find teenagers on line
All beautifully dressed and looking fine
Red cheeks and face with beautiful shine
May not refuse if you politely invite to dine
They may have compelling reasons
It is possible the change might have been caused by seasons
There is boom in garden and flowers smile
All in different colors and zoom in air for while
One such flower appealed me a lot
She was not favorite or but preferred somewhat
It was different from others with lots of appeal
I went very close and urge to pick could not repeal
It presented a very wide smile
I had dread of such a flower for a while
Even though I was aging very fast
An urge from within could not die or last
“How nice, a beautiful presentation but can’t be mine”
I was slipping in sweet memory but got afraid of famine
Will this beauty may die soon or taken away?
Is there no other option open in my way?
There were whispering notes from near by
Flowers of different colors were showing their hands with bye
I was struck there with lots of confusion
I was overpowered with zeal and infusion
I must have at least one to accompany in life
I shall give the beautiful name as wife
Not all flowers are to be seen later on
As nice one has been picked to follow on
The whole garden seemed to me like universe
Heard all applauses for good work and no curse
I had some apprehensions in mind for selfish approach
I found nothing in particular as such
As I said all members are in their teens
Some may be hardly fifteens or sixteen
All out to find their match and very keen
To see the out side world on colorful screen
I offered my love to such beautiful queen
I presumed she was for quite long or even longer may have been
I do not know what had happened to her in between?
But she was desperate even though remained unseen
I thought for a while and decided not to fall
Such relation may be untimely and invite great fall
It would be advisable to go for matured relation
It may be healthy and more over good indication
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal

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The Flowers In Your Garden
you are telling me that the flowers in your garden
must not be of one and the same kind
or else there will be so much boredom
you are telling me the need of variety:
roses and jasmines
and suntans and daisies, colors and scents all in multiplicity
as you talk your eyelashes curve a little lower than i expected
and your mouth twitches a little bit just to show your dislike
and contempt of the word:
boredom
unnecessary uniformity, that human need of variety
equated with a taste for something new
and even unusual
i completely agree with you.
Let me take you inside my heart
where my garden lies:
flowers of different colors and scents
i have grown them all inside my heart,
feelings of love and
desire, in a variety or sorts
in a diversification of breeds
and if by now you ask me and demand
that i may tell the truth
inside my heart, in my garden of love, you are a very beautiful flower
so sweet scented and well loved and cared by me
but there are other beautiful flowers growing in there,
you are not
just the one and only, as you would like to think
that to be
and i will tell you again,
I agree with you, there is a need really
for a variety,
the one that removes the word
boredom
from the beautiful garden of our vocabulary.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Lovely children
Life can be useless, dull and boring
The land will remain unfertile even if enough rain will be pouring
Some of the factors are playing dominant role in later age
We feel lonely and confined to golden cage
It is said that if home is without child
The human being may turn wild
He or she can not remain descent and kind
So much influence is exerted and we can easily find
A person becomes irritated
Though it is presumed and related
It feels some of the void
It is God gift and can not be avoided
Childless life is really curse
Their little presence helps for wounds to nurse
It is the movement that gives us joy
Life becomes purposeful to enjoy
Not all couples may be lucky to have children
Their life remains full of concern
The young age can pass of peacefully
But old age later on affects fully
It is like beautiful garden not having flowers
It is also quite pleasing to watch the showers
The flowers are product of that beautiful act
The God has gifted us them and it is fact
They are future of life and country as whole
The life may be remorseful and develop the holes
There may be no one to look after welfare and care
Life may be seemed as burden and place to go no where
Not necessary to have child from own blood
There are many under nourished and staving of food
They are most deserved flowers to be attended to
The God may be kind and merciful if we are true
The garden is desert if no flowers appear
What a pleasant and beautiful show it bears?
We would prefer to see then when go very near
The flowers should not plucked as they are very dear
The flowers of different colors are like children’
White. Whitish and black colors are seen often
The smile worn by child remain same and heavenly
We got to enjoy it and accept evenly
It is holy means to get easy with the on going passage
Children do help in spreading the love and message
It is only medium where by person can be persuaded
To lead normal and decent life and even dissuaded
No one can be that cruel to heavenly gift
The child can bridge the gulf or remove the rift
It is great momentum to witness the total shift
The life is elevated to decent level by affection and lift
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal

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What a way to reassure!
What a way to reassure on face?
Lovely beauty with visible trace
God has sent beautiful reminder on earth
Take her care else face the ugly death
It is your duty to acclaim and adore
Not all flowers may attract any more
Yet we do believe and praise in precise terms
As they have noble part to play as mother, sister and daughter in turn
Not all girls are gifted with moon face
Not all the shine given away to any race
Hilly areas have their own reflection
Whole beauty is reflected with positive indication
They are not selfish so far as their role is concerned
Good looking girls are preferred and very fast cornered
They have demand and rightly can be said so
They find king's offer if royal family gives clear go
Our history is full of wars and their sacrifices
Empires have been lost due to words given with promises
Certainly out look matters but their nature and dedication too
We have witnessed, observed it and passed through
How come that is working as magnetic pull?
How come they look so pretty and beautiful?
God only can answer as it is blessings from divine seat
We only look outer beauty, appearance and express joy at
The garden may have elegance with lot many flowers
It may add more beauty with little dazzling and rainy showers
Family may gain prominence with females having brilliance coupled with beauty
Gain prominence all-round and have upper hand with blessings from almighty
It is natural feeling and common fact
We are guided but sometimes forced to act
To protect honor and dignity of woman becomes prestige issue
Only some of the people may think reason behind it and rightly view
I, for my part, will appreciate it in any form
That has not come up all of sudden or born
It is definitely a graceful act on part of creator
That we live to witness such flowers from mentor
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal

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Emerson
I saw the bee!
But when i came around to your garden, it turned into a butterfly;
Yes, in the land of your muse where you have a beautiful garden.
For, true love brought me closer to you.
This is about the wonderful garden of your love! !
And of all the things planted in this garden;
But, your magical works tranformed this bee that i saw into a butterfly,
However, i will always like to visit this garden of love.
I am Emerson and, this bee that i saw attracted me to your beautiful garden;
And like the muse of true love in the land of beautiful flowers,
But, this magical touch will always be in my mind.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis

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In The Winter Garden
Winter has visited our garden my love
Trees have been stripped bare and flowers wilt
A frost has been laid upon the ground
Even the birds have taken to flight, away
Amid the silence of the morning I walk
Through our garden which we nurtured
How solemn it now looks without colour
The summer seems but a distant memory
How beautiful it looked back then
How beautiful it will look once more
But now in the mornings drab light
With barren trees and wilted flowers
I walk upon the hardened earth
Which feels like stone beneath my feet
We talked of planting a fruit tree
For flavour and shade in years to come
Now that is an idea in waiting
Till winter has passed, and spring returns
Winter is here in our garden my love
As I watch the vapour of my breath rise
I say your name, a love for all time
poem by Matthew Holloway

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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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The Beautiful Flower
A tiny bud
Took birth in a garden
Matured into a beautiful flower
It’s Eye catching colors
Maddening aroma
Became center of attraction
For one and many
All coming to the garden
Adored it
Fellow flowers
Became envious
The beautiful flower saw all this
But kept on blooming
Didn’t bother
Who is envious or attracted?
Continued
Spreading fragrance
Without getting distracted
Kept on doing
What he had to do
One day it perished
Justified its birth
Before dying
Leaving pleasant memories
For those who
Saw and smelled it
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela

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Have I Told You...
Beautiful, are you, as the flowers of the field.
Beautiful, is the sound of your voice.
Beautiful, is the touch of your hand.
Beautiful, are the eyes that speak of love.
Beautiful, is your understanding and kindness.
Beautiful, is the way you always consider others.
Beautiful, are the courage of your convictions.
Beautiful, are the silent, countless words of, I love you.
Beautiful, is the softness of your touch.
Beautiful, are the children that you hold dear.
Beautiful, is your faith, honesty and loyalty.
Beautiful, are the people, you bless with your love.
Beautiful, are you secret acts of charity.
Beautiful, is the goodness, you give to all.
Beautiful, is the way your never judge anyone.
Beautiful, is your never dreaming...that you are indeed so beautiful.
Beautiful, is your heart...your very soul.
Beautiful, is the way you have made this a better world.
Beautiful, is the helping hand, you extend to all.
Have I told you, you are beautiful in every way?
You Are Indeed Beautiful
Beautiful, are you, as the flowers of the field.
Beautiful, is the sound of your voice.
Beautiful, is the touch of your hand.
Beautiful, are the eyes that speak of love.
Beautiful, is your understanding and kindness.
Beautiful, is the way you always consider others.
Beautiful, are the courage of your convictions.
Beautiful, are the silent, countless words of, I love you.
Beautiful, is the softness of your touch.
Beautiful, are the children that you hold dear.
Beautiful, is your faith, honesty and loyalty.
Beautiful, are the people, you bless with your love.
Beautiful, are you secret acts of charity.
Beautiful, is the goodness, you give to all.
Beautiful, is the way your never judge anyone.
Beautiful, is your never dreaming...that you are indeed so beautiful.
Beautiful, is your heart...your very soul.
Beautiful, is the way you have made this a better world.
Beautiful, is the helping hand, you extend to all.
Have I told you, you are beautiful in every way?
Have I told you, my beautiful one, that I love you?
One Mans Opinion
Beautiful, are you, as the flowers of the field.
Beautiful, is the sound of your voice.
Beautiful, is the touch of your hand.
Beautiful, are the eyes that speak of love.
Beautiful, is your understanding and kindness.
Beautiful, is the way you always consider others.
Beautiful, are the courage of your convictions.
Beautiful, are the silent, countless words of, I love you.
Beautiful, is the softness of your touch.
Beautiful, are the children that you hold dear.
Beautiful, is your faith, honesty and loyalty.
Beautiful, are the people, you bless with your love.
Beautiful, are you secret acts of charity.
Beautiful, is the goodness, you give to all.
Beautiful, is the way your never judge anyone.
Beautiful, is your never dreaming...that you are indeed so beautiful.
Beautiful, is your heart...your very soul.
Beautiful, is the way you have made this a better world.
Beautiful, is the helping hand, you extend to all.
Have I told you, you are beautiful in every way?
©Joe Fazio
My Mother's Garden
My mother owns a beautiful
garden of flowers
Where I linger watching them
bloom for hours,
My radio on, Katherine
Jenkins singing, 'The Flower
Duet'
I could explain this like a
picture but I am no poet,
Alas let me try; butterflies
showing off their colourful
wings,
The garden also has an oak
tree with hanging swings-
Roses, daisies, jasmines,
violets, hazels, the divine
camillias-
Flowers so beautiful, their
reflections more lovelier,
As the Sun appears to bud from some petal,
I breathe my first, my heart
falls off its mantle
And in the core it once lay yours takes its place-
The light of the smile that
radiates from my face...
Many wish to see angels, sirens at sea,
But I have seen you, thats all I need to see.
Isunge Mwangase © March 17,2011
poem by Isunge Mwangase

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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

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A Flower Of His Heart
He is walking in his garden,
With so many flowers surrounding him,
He is among his lovely flowers,
He feels happiness as he enjoys their fragrances.
In a corner some red flowers,
Raise their stalks toward the sun,
In that color sleeps the passion,
And sensuality of the women, with their charms.
Next to it he finds some white flowers,
His mind get clensed of bad thoughts,
All purity and innocence of the living,
Is concentrated in a beautiful white rose.
But he sees some orange flowers over there,
So intense, so joyful to his eyes,
They are like the warmth of the summer,
In a wonderful, pleasant day of life.
And suddenly a simple flower show up to him,
She was not well-dressed in amazing colors like her fancy friends,
But she was so beautiful in her simplicity and grace,
Just the flower of his heart that he always expected to have.
In this life beauty is not important and fragile,
It matters more what pleases your heart,
When it is about love and its magic,
You'll adore that simple flower, no matter what.
poem by Cristina Teodor

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Beautiful Are You...
Beautiful, are you, as the flowers of the field.
Beautiful, is the sound of your voice.
Beautiful, is the touch of your hand.
Beautiful, are the eyes that speak of love.
Beautiful, is your understanding and kindness.
Beautiful, is the way you always consider others.
Beautiful, are the courage of your convictions.
Beautiful, are the silent, countless words of, I love you.
Beautiful, is the softness of your touch.
Beautiful, are the children that you hold dear.
Beautiful, is your faith, honesty and loyalty.
Beautiful, are the people, you bless with your love.
Beautiful, are you secret acts of charity.
Beautiful, is the goodness, you give to all.
Beautiful, is the way your never judge anyone.
Beautiful, is your never dreaming...that you are indeed so beautiful.
Beautiful, is your heart...your very soul.
Beautiful, is the way you have made this a better world.
Beautiful, is the helping hand, you extend to all.
Have I told you, you are beautiful in every way?
Have I told you, my beautiful one, that I love you?
We are blessed to know, one who is as beautiful
as you, in so many ways.
P.S.
I love you.