Passage of Time
Grass remains lush,
and green
if properly watered
and fed
Without, fades turns
brown.
Petals dropp from
a flower,
slips softly to the
ground.
A breeze catches
a leaf
whirling around
casting it
away.
Tree limbs dry up
breaks off
and falls away.
He stopped to weep
teared in
harmony, with the
passage of time.
copyrght by heather burns
poem by Heather Burns
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Enduring The Storms of Life
A petal falls from a
flower
quietly to the ground
a tree limb dries up
breaks off, falls away
enduring the storms
of life..
Ships sail off to sea
enduring many storms
along the way fights
to maintain
returning to port,
enduring the storms
of life...
poem by Heather Burns
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Do you know My Dear?
Do you know My Dear?
The dew dropp that does not fall on the ground,
The mysterious dropp that surrenders inside the flower,
The dream dropp that hangs at the tip of a leaf,
The retiring dropp that collects at the edge of the eye,
It is nothing but the remains of our silent conversation!
poem by V.K. Kanniappan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Looking Back At The Greens
i too look back at those green things
from the point of view of my
green thumb
a vegetable garden without an aphid on a leaf
a row of roses, lush green leaves
and red blooms
some petals falling due to the
wind
a line of green mint trees along the path
leading to the highway
sounds of motors threatening what green there is
i come back and settle on this patch
of green meadows
and grass and gray shade
my own shadow cast
on the huge gabi leaf.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Somewhere In Fantasyland
Yesterday, we strolled
together in fantasyland.
I was taken back to
another time of our youth.
A handsome young boy, a
sweet naive girl, holding
hands, loong at each other
with stars in their eyes.
Anticipating tomorrow.
The grassy meadows were
lush and green. Valleys
ablaze of color. Baby
buds yawned, waking up
from their long winters
nap. Began to open their
eyes, as the warmth of
the season penetrated
them.
Petals opened dislaying
a panamara.
You gently touched my
lips, asking me, I agreed.
That day so long ago, I
found my hearts delight.
Knowing this love would
last forever, and it has.
copyright by heather burns
poem by Heather Burns
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Love Is
They say its a river, that circles the earth
A beam of light shining to the edge of the universe
It conquers all, it changes everything
They say its a blessing, they say its a gift
They say its a miracle
And I believe that it is
It conquers all, but its a mystery
Love breaks your heart
Love takes no less than everything
Love makes it hard
And it fades away so easily
In this world weve created
In this place that we live
In the blink of an eye the darkness slips in
Love lights the world
Unites the lovers for eternity
Love breaks the chains
Love aches for everyone of us
Love takes the tears and the pain, and it turns it in-
To the beauty that remains
Look at this place
It was paradise, but now its dying
Ill pray forlove
Ill take my chances that its not too late
Love breaks your heart
Love takes no less than everything
Love makes it hard
And fades away so easily
Oh oh oh
Love breaks the chains
Love aches for everyone of us
Love takes the tears and the pain, and it turns it in-
To the beauty that remains
song performed by by Vanessa Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Beloved, Let Us Once More Praise The Rain
Beloved, let us once more praise the rain.
Let us discover some new alphabet,
For this, the often praised; and be ourselves,
The rain, the chickweed, and the burdock leaf,
The green-white privet flower, the spotted stone,
And all that welcomes the rain; the sparrow too,—
Who watches with a hard eye from seclusion,
Beneath the elm-tree bough, till rain is done.
There is an oriole who, upside down,
Hangs at his nest, and flicks an orange wing,—
Under a tree as dead and still as lead;
There is a single leaf, in all this heaven
Of leaves, which rain has loosened from its twig:
The stem breaks, and it falls, but it is caught
Upon a sister leaf, and thus she hangs;
There is an acorn cup, beside a mushroom
Which catches three drops from the stooping cloud.
The timid bee goes back to the hive; the fly
Under the broad leaf of the hollyhock
Perpends stupid with cold; the raindark snail
Surveys the wet world from a watery stone...
And still the syllables of water whisper:
The wheel of cloud whirs slowly: while we wait
In the dark room; and in your heart I find
One silver raindrop,—on a hawthorn leaf,—
Orion in a cobweb, and the World.
poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
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The May Flower Tree
I was walking lone there,
Where we once had been.
I sought the house we lived in,
In the lush lush green.
Perhaps inmates out, I thought,
As none I could see.
She has been haunting ever,
Where's May Flower Tree?
Looked around and discovered,
Ah! she lost her grace!
Hugged her with my eager hands,
Alone at that place.
Touched her old bark earnestly,
Felt the touch of past.
Childhood cried in deep deep pain,
Days crept in we passed.
Suddenly the tree turned green,
The Sun shone brightly.
I saw the May Flower Tree,
An emblem of Infancy!
poem by Nilakshi Das
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With Dignity, In Stillness...
if the time has come,
then let it be done,
with dignity, in stillness.
that rare moment
when the bird flies from the cage,
is not the time for weeping.
does the river mourn
when it breaks through the dam?
does the storm apologize for passion?
then who are we to cling to dust,
to darkness as dawn approaches?
the leaf turns
in a fury of color..
for just a moment,
then brown, and falls.
the tree stands still in respect,
and begins the time of waiting.
the first snow comes,
the winds howl, never grieving...
for there comes a time,
when the womb is split,
a time of new life, and beginning!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Chakra #4
12 lotus flower petals open
color green-heart
divine spirits
heartopens-love flows
relationships flourish
male/female
heaven/earth
ba lance
seat of the soul, in
the hour glass of time.
poem by Heather Burns
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Can It Be Stopped
Can they can they dropp it.
Can it,
Be stopped.
Can they can they dropp it.
Can it,
Be stopped.
Can it be dropped.
Can it be stopped.
Hoodwinkers on the loose.
Hoodwinkers out to dupe too!
And...
Can they be stooped.
Crooked people after loot,
Proving they can low stoop.
But...
Can they can they dropp it.
Can they be stopped.
Can they can they dropp it.
Can they be stopped.
Hoodwinkers on the loose,
Stooping low as they choose.
Can they can they dropp it.
Can it,
Be stopped.
Can they can they dropp it.
Can it,
Be stopped.
Can they can they dropp it.
Can it,
Be stopped.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sometimes Snow
Sometimes
the snow
is
falling
lying
softly
on the
ground
sometimes
the snow
is
blowing
swirling
all around
sometimes
ice is
forming
crystals
hanging
in the
trees
clinging
to each
other
in the
winters
breeze.
poem by Heather Burns
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dropping Petals (Cinquain)
You
are the
flower of my
heart, dropping sweet petals
everywhere.
poem by Heather Burns
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fields of Heather
If you ever go to Scotland
on a summer day,
You'll fall in love with Heather,
Heathers blooming along the
bay.
Raising their tiny heads to
address the day,
You won't believe their beauty,
They will take your breath away.
This is a magical time, Heathers
growing wild and free,
Looking at a field of flowers,
Captivated, by their beauty.
Delicate tiny bows, catching in
the wind,
They color the landscape, lovely
blossoms blend.
Heathers hues beg our attention,
From Pinks to firey Reds,
God smiled on the appearance,
Of her beautiful flower beds.
Fragrance of Honeysuckle,
The sweetness of the Rose,
Fill the air with promise,
As Heather puts on her pose.
Petals softly speak, of luck,
And good cheer,
She'll return again, in the
coming year.
Heather, is my namesake,
I am proud to say,
Long ago, and far away,
My father fell in love with.
HEATHERS
On another summer day.
poem by Heather Burns
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Lime Tree
That lime tree on the distant rising ground
(If it was a lime tree) showed her yellow leaves
Above the renewed green of wet August grass--
First Autumn yellow that on first Autumn eves
Too soon was found.
Comfortless lime tree! Scarce an aspen leaf
Like a green butterfly flitted to the ground;
There was no sign of Autumn in the grass.
Even the long garden beds their beauty brief--
Their mignonette,
Nasturtium and sweet-william and red stocks,
And clover crouching in the border grass,
And blood-like fuschia, eve's primrose and white phlox
And honeysuckle--waved all their smell and hue
Morn and eve anew.
But that far lime tree yellowing by the oak,
Warning oak, elm and poplar and each fresh tree
Shaking in the south wind delightedly,
And clover in the closeness of the grass,
Warns also me.
And now when all the trees are standing still
Beneath the purple and white of the west sky,
And time is standing still--as stand it will--
That early yellowing lime with palsied fingers
Cannot be still.
poem by John Freeman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If I come Again......
If I come again in
This beautiful earth,
I'll be a grass-flower,
In Nature's heart!
In the lush green meadow,
I'll laugh and chat with wind.
The breeze will pass me,
and tell the gossip
of the motley flies...
But, I'll play then with
the golden light of
morning, and with the
baby grasses, nodding
my head to say, yes to,
their every childlike talk.
I want to stay as small,
as the tiny flower of grass,
to equip the earth with
my innocent soul!
I'll stretch wide, wide,
to join the absolute whole!
poem by Nilakshi Das
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The Story of My Flower
Born a lovely flower
Watered with fresh water during rainy seasons
Sprinkled with just enough during the droughts
The flower lived to blossom
With scented petals and green leaves
in a pot so large to take all it could bear.
One sunny day
the pot with the flower was shifted
shifted to a completely new location
where it was deprived of the sunlight
and the abundance of water.
Necessary it was
A new start in a life supposedly so complete.
Time went by
Nevertheless, the flower continued blooming
The petals now larger
The scent even more appealing
The flower survived even without the bare necessities.
The now sensitive flower
Soon attracted the eyes of predators
A simple glance to start with
Then became a soft touch
Followed by multiples of rough care.
Soon the flower started to lose its shape and form
Being given insufficient supply of water
Inappropriate fertilizers
And most of all the wrong attention.
At last it withered
After long hours of torture
Long days of loneliness
and years of abundance
it turned yellow, then brown
Finally, what remained was just a lifeless stem
standing in an old dirty pot.
poem by Alexandra Isnard
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The Essence Of You
In the
gallery
of my
mind,
I ponder
your
existence.
Such a
gentle
breeze,
on a warm
spring
day.
A fresh
breath
of air,
softly
kissing
my lips.
A lovely
flower,
one in
my bouquet
of life.
full of
promises.
Fulfilling
my every
dream.
with sweet
thoughts,
until I
melt into
your nectar.
poem by Heather Burns
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The Last Rose Of Autumn
Upon the leaf litter that covers the ground
The faded rose petals lay scattered around
The last rose of Autumn has answered the call
Of the cold grim reaper and so too must we all.
The last rose of Autumn she too had her day
She bloomed bright and lovely through June from late May
But the beautiful pink flower the last on her tree
Has returned to Nature and so too must we.
And now on the rose tree the tiny buds show
The green baby buds that to pink roses will grow
And in the green parkland the birds chirp and sing
And the magpies stick gathering at the coming of Spring.
Upon the leaf litter now faded and gray
The last rose of Autumn has gone to decay
And the mother who bore her has new baby flowers
And the fate of the rose it will also be ours.
poem by Francis Duggan
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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
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A Silly Song
'O HEART, my heart!' she said, and heard
His mate the blackbird calling,
While through the sheen of the garden green
May rain was softly falling,--
Aye softly, softly falling.
The buttercups across the field
Made sunshine rifts of splendor:
The round snow-bud of the thorn in the wood
Peeped through its leefage tender,
As the rain came softly falling.
'O heart, my heart!' she said and smiled,
'There's not a tree of the valley,
Or a leaf I wis which the rain's soft kiss
Freshens in yonder alley,
Where the drops keep ever falling,--
'There's not a foolish flower i' the grass,
Or bird through the woodland calling,
So glad again of the coming of rain
As I of these tears now falling,--
These happy tears down falling.'
poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
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