Virginity
Clad with garments of dignity
Perfumed with ethical sensitivity
Quintessential queen of quality
Regal consort of my ecstasy
Untarnished by lewdness and infidelity
Unmatched in integrity and chastity
Blandiloquent bride of my destiny
Untouched before matrimony
Fair virgin of undiluted beauty
To honour you is my joy and duty
poem by Howard Simon
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Related quotes
Chastity, a myth
A prey of the pursuit
Or a pawn of the assault
Though one may fall,
The one is not unchaste.
A victim of the molestation
Or a ruin of the rape
Though one is made,
The one is not unchaste.
A model, a nude
Or love embrace on stage,
Though one may do,
The one is not unchaste.
Enough to be a coquette,
No need of adultery,
One practices infidelity.
Tumbles down the chastity.
Never in nakedness,
Never in sexy touch,
But only secret relation,
Chastity is tarnished.
Seduction of mind,
Followed or not by
Seduction of body
Tells upon ones chastity.
Whoever lived
That has lived not
Without the seduction of mind?
Then where is the chastity?
Chastity is a myth
Without a pith.
09.11.99
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Little HandMaiden
The King's son walks in the garden fair-
Oh, the maiden's heart is merry!
He little knows for his toil and care,
That the bride is gone and the bower is bare.
Put on garments of white, my maidens!
The sun shines bright through the casement high-
Oh, the maiden's heart is merry!
The little handmaid, with a laughing eye,
Looks down on the king's son, strolling by.
Put on garments of white, my maidens!
'He little knows that the bride is gone,
And the Earl knows little as he;
She is fled with her lover afar last night
And the King's son is left to me.'
And back to her chamber with velvety step
The little handmaid did glide,
And a gold key took from her bosom sweet,
And opened the great chests wide.
She bound her hair with a band of blue,
And a garland of lilies sweet;
And put on her delicate silken shoes,
With roses at her feet.
She clad her body in spotless white,
With a girdle as red as blood.
The glad white raiment her beauty bound,
As the sepels blind the bud.
And round and round her white neck she flung
A necklace of sapphires blue;
On one white finger of either hand
A shining ring she drew.
And down the stairway and out of the door
She glided, as soft and light,
As an airy tuft of a thistle seed
Might glide through the grasses bright.
And into the garden sweet she stole-
The little birds carolled loud-
Her beauty shone as a star might shine
In the rift of the morning cloud.
The King's son walked in the garden fair,
And the little handmaiden came,
Through the midst of a shimmer of roses red,
Like a sunbeam through a flame.
The King's son marvelled, his heart leaped up,
'And art thou my bride?' said he,
'For, North or South, I have never beheld
A lovelier maid than thee.'
'And dost thou love me?' the little maid cried,
'A fine King's son, I wis!'
And the king's son took her with both his hands,
And her ruddy lips did kiss.
And the little maid laughed till the beaded tears,
Ran down in a silver rain.
'O foolish King's son!' and she clapped her hands,
Till the gold rings rang again.
'O King's son, foolish and fooled art thou,
For a goodly game is played:
Thy bride is away with her lover last night,
And I am her little handmaid.'
And the King's son sware a great oath, said he-
Oh, the maiden's heart is merry!
'If the Earl's fair daughter a traitress be,
The little handmaid is enough for me.'
Put on garments of white, my maidens!
The King's son walks in the garden fair-
Oh, the maiden's heart is merry!
And the little handmaiden walketh there,
But the old Earl pulleth his beard for care.
Put on garments of white, my maidens!
poem by Archibald Lampman
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The Flower
She's a standout in a ground full of weeds...
Tall-lithe stem-ever so green-
Dew covered leaves glisten in between-
A brillant blossom ablaze in this Pastoral scene;
A beauty so elegant-so very rare--
Filling the landscape that once was so bare...
With colours and perfumed aromas so very fair...
If you look very closely-They're simply everywhere;
Planted in the sod by Gods own hand--
For He 'tis the Creator of this green-natured land...
Such a Regal Beauty in the Garden-she stands--
He's given us this Flower-so very grand;
The Essence
June 16,2010
poem by Theodora Onken
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Quintessential
Quintessential, least, sent, suite, site, sue, sues, use, seas;
And like a dead cow on the road,
But, try to be ylourself always.
Quintessential, unit, quiet, quest, quite, queen, seat, sea, it;
And like a dead goat on the road,
But, never give up on your dreams!
Quintessential, queens, tail, tails, tales, quail, late, sees;
And like a dead snake on the road,
But let your speech always be with love! !
And seasoned with salt.
Quintessential, quails, sail, uses, is, tine, tins, units, see;
And like the muse of love with a guide around!
But, try to learn from the right people aslways.
Quintessential, seen, sit, set, sits, sails, seal, seals, sents!
With the joy and the peace of your love;
But, life ia not always straight ahead.
Quintessential, ale, ten, sale, net, nets, eel, test, tests, sales;
With the joy of my love to touch you over there!
But, try to be yourself always.
Quintessential, tale, nail, nails, in, state, states, seats, least;
With joy in my heart to sing to you my love!
However, the muse of life goes up and down at times.
Quintessential, tease, east, neat, eat, ate, tea, less, essential;
Pact, act, fact, bract, react, tract! !
And like the joy of your muse so seen by all;
But, never give up on your dreams.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Her Usual Patience...
her kiss will
always be
a reminder that
an infidelity
is always an inch
shorter
to the
majesty of
the holy
matrimony
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Who is the King?
I am the Queen
you are my son
abide my dictum
crossing the limit
endanger your life
accept my authority
spreading your wings
searching your mate
putting me in displeasure
your soul bears
my whipping silently
accepts to derail
my son assent
my choice of bride
feel the freedom
secret ambitions
will jeoparadise
your wishes
Oh! my son
I am the Queen
submit to me
playing infidelity
placing me in shame
questions my fame
waiting for goal
breaking the rule
thinking victorious
I am the Queen
you won't be a King
cursing the sin.
poem by Mubeen Sadhika
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Delia VI: Fair is my love, and cruel as she's fair
VI
Fair is my love, and cruel as she's fair:
Her brow shades frowns although her eyes are sunny,
Her smiles are lightning though her pride despair,
And her disdains are gall, her favours honey;
A modest maid, deck'd with a blush of honour,
Whose feet do tread green paths of youth and love,
The wonder of all eyes that look upon her:
Sacred on earth, design'd a saint above.
Chastity and beauty, which were deadly foes,
Live reconciled friends within her brow;
And had she pity to conjoin with those,
Then who had heard the plaints I utter now?
For had she not been fair and thus unkind,
My muse had slept, and none had known my mind.
poem by Samuel Daniel
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What Shall I Do For the Land that Bred Me
What shall I do for the land that bred me,
Her homes and fields that folded and fed me?—
Be under her banner and live for her honour:
Under her banner I’ll live for her honour.
CHORUS. Under her banner live for her honour.
Not the pleasure, the pay, the plunder,
But country and flag, the flag I am under—
There is the shilling that finds me willing
To follow a banner and fight for honour.
CH. We follow her banner, we fight for her honour.
Call me England’s fame’s fond lover,
Her fame to keep, her fame to recover.
Spend me or end me what God shall send me,
But under her banner I live for her honour.
CH. Under her banner we march for her honour.
Where is the field I must play the man on?
O welcome there their steel or cannon.
Immortal beauty is death with duty,
If under her banner I fall for her honour.
CH. Under her banner we fall for her honour.
poem by Gerard Manley Hopkins
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Hollow
You seek fame.
And a name.
With no integrity...
Or dignity with identity attached!
To support and frame your claims.
Keeping your aim and goals unmatched.
Your soul becomes weak.
And shallow success,
Loses its meaning.
A harvest of a sowing,
Has been reaped!
You feel defeated.
Although you may have achieved,
What others believe.
The emptiness felt...
Leaves you depleted.
Hollow!
With that shallowness,
Sought.
But definitely unsatisfying.
'Hollow? '
That depends.
How low are you?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Foolish Elm
The bold young Autumn came riding along
One day where an elm-tree grew.
'You are fair,' he said, as she bent down her head,
'Too fair for your robe's dull hue.
You are far too young for a garb so old;
Your beauty needs color and sheen.
Oh, I would clothe you in scarlet and gold
Befitting the grace of a queen.
'For one little kiss on your lips, sweet elm,
For one little kiss, no more,
I would give you, I swear, a robe more fair
Than ever a princess wore.
One little kiss on those lips, my pet,
And lo! you shall stand, I say,
Queen of the forest, and, better yet,
Queen of my heart alway.'
She tossed her head, but he took the kiss-
'Tis the way of lovers bold-
And a gorgeous dress for that sweet caress
He gave ere the morning was old.
For a week and a day she ruled a queen
In beauty and splendid attire;
For a week and a day she was loved, I ween,
With the love that is born of desire.
Then bold-eyed Autumn went on his way
In search of a tree more fair;
And mob winds tattered her garments and scattered
Her finery here and there.
Poor and faded and ragged and cold
She rocked in her wild distress,
And longed for the dull green gown she had sold
For her fickle lover's caress.
And the days went by and Winter came,
And his tyrannous tempests beat
On the shivering tree, whose robes of flame
He had trampled under his feet.
I saw her reach up to the mocking skies
Her poor arms, bare and thin;
Ah, well-a-day! it is ever the way
With a woman who trades with sin.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Mary’s Day (Feast of BVM assumed into heaven)
The mother of Jesus –Mary,
The anguished heart at Calvary;
The figurine with the rosary,
Is live at God’s own sanctuary!
‘Hail Mary, full of grace is live,
In body, soul assumed by God! ’
Like Christ, death could not her deprive
Of victory, glory, like her Lord.
The Immaculate Conception had
Become the handmaid of the Lord;
And in her sacred womb, the Word
Dwelt, receiving flesh, and was clad.
In Mary, heaven and earth had met:
The glorious Son Of God was born;
Her obeisance to God had set
Satan’s defeat, and newer dawn.
The lady clad in sun as gown,
And stars upon her head as crown,
And moon beneath her feet to stand,
Reached heaven with angelic band.
God raised the sinless virgin bride
To be Queen of Heaven, beside
The Lamb of God, who lives and reigns
In endless glory that ne’er wanes.
All angels, saints pay homage then,
To Mary Blessed, Queen of Heaven;
All righteous souls, She longs to see –
Humanity in Eternity.
Dedicated to the BVM on her ‘Feast of Assumption’
Copyright by Dr John Celes 15-08-2010
poem by John Celes
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About infidelity
Infidelity is a natural flow.
Man and woman live a controlled life.
Physical infidelity is sealed.
Emotional infidelity escapes.
19.01.2011
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Roses, Roses
Roses, Roses blooming bright!
In earth’s gardens; ‘What a sight! ’
Studding plants in dawn’s dew, light;
And perfuming day and night!
Queen of flowers, roses stay;
Budding, blossoming en way;
Hues pretty, very well laid;
Decorating bride and maid.
Oh, what mind had shaped thee thus!
And what hearts enjoy thy bliss;
Thorns amongst green leaves just say,
‘Beauty needs protection, Aye! ’
Roses, Roses petaled fine;
Standing glorious in sunshine;
Beauty unmatched on earth, thine;
Making garlands more divine!
Roses add to Mary’s crown,
Reciting Rosaries when;
Blessings and grace then come down,
Making souls fit for heaven!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 06-12-2010
poem by John Celes
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Rhinoceros
The clamor of shields of armor
As the quintessential knight
Of the animal kingdom
Plods on the boundless savannahs
An ungainly grace yet a ferocious roar
As twirls of fir pirouette like a feisty tornado
To capture the embodiment of her heritage
The grandeur of an indomitable horn
Standing tall on the shadow of Kilimanjaro
As fairy tales and folklore reverberate
Of the greatest of them all, the albino
The one that leaped from the heavens
To be captured by a wandering virgin
To unscramble the fallacy of a cardinal myth - the fountain of chastity
As to the beholding eye, the enigma of the celestial unicorn
Blurred in to a sprightly Rhinoceros
poem by Dilantha Gunawardana
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Does God Hold Your Country In Honour?
God does not honour countries?
God does not honour nations?
God honours integrity of nations.
God honours men women of integrity.
When the integrity of a nation fails.
The nation in question fails to retain...
the patronage support good will of God.
When you ban God from all schools
all public buildings all public office do
you believe you retain God's good will?
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Woman is liberated
Marriage is no longer a must.
Chastity is no more a virtue.
Virginity is not to be a purity.
Infidelity is not held as cheat.
Having sex is like a friendship.
Man must reconcile to it
Else he is in jeopardy
02.10.2007.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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No woman is exclusive.
Visual infidelity is in all places.
Emotional infidelity thrives in work places.
Physical infidelity sneaks in hideouts. .
A woman is not exclusive to a man.
24.01.2011
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Pure Fairness
Fairest beauty by blotch of lust untouched
That shimmers like still lakes of early morn
And not a wave to stir upon is forged
Thus before her, randiness be forlorn
And all that beauty that does cover you
Ne'er shall lust brag thou wander in its cool
Nor a phallus disgrace thy glorious blue
Nor a dropp of red ooze from thy sealed pool
Let the soiled and coital maidens behold
Such pureness their bragging shall never own
Such flawless beauty to raunch unsold
Be ungraspable by their filthy own
Behold, sweet fairness unmarked, scenic and pure
Behold, her - to these lines the pristined muse,
She's the coax to lust - and a wasted lure
Behold! , sweet fairness by lust unused.
Soiled beauty and fair i do chastise thee
Sweet beauty untouched i panegyrize thee.
poem by Mbanaso Samuel
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Epigram on Women - 0521 - after Amos Bronson Alcott - also attributed to James Mathew Barrie
Oh the goodness of their goodness when they're good,
and the prudeness of their prudeness when they're prude,
but the goodness of their goodness, and the prudeness of their prudeness
are as nothing to their lewdness when they're lewd.
Oh the lewdness of their lewdness when they're lewd,
and the nudeness of their nudity when viewed,
but the lewdness of their lewdness and the nudity of nudeness
are as nothing to their prudeness when pursued!
Epigram on Women
Oh, the gladness of their gladness when they're glad,
and the sadness of their sadness when they're sad,
but the gladness of their gladness and the sadness of their sadness
are as nothing to their badness when they're bad!
Oh, the shrewdness of their shrewdness when they are shrewd,
And the rudeness of their rudeness when they're rude;
But the shrewdness of their shrewdness and the rudeness of their rudeness,
Are as nothing to their goodness when they're good!
Amos Bronson Alcott
(28 December 1991)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Austerity Of Poetry
That son of Italy who tried to blow,
Ere Dante came, the trump of sacred song,
In his light youth amid a festal throng
Sate with his bride to see a public show.
Fair was the bride, and on her front did glow
Youth like a star; and what to youth belong--
Gay raiment, sparkling gauds, elation strong.
A prop gave way! crash fell a platform! lo,
'Mid struggling sufferers, hurt to death, she lay!
Shuddering, they drew her garments off--and found
A robe of sackcloth next the smooth, white skin.
Such, poets, is your bride, the Muse! young, gay,
Radiant, adorn'd outside; a hidden ground
Of thought and of austerity within.
poem by Matthew Arnold
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