Olfactory Satisfaction
The Honeysuckle and the Rose.
Perfume my garden differently.
There also my Sweet William grows.
Night scented stock abundantly.
Providing pleasure for my nose.
As well as beauty I can see.
I'm satisfied with flowers I chose.
I can enjoy them peacefully.
When day is done I meditate
Upon the pleasure which they bring.
Their scents combining to create.
A perfect sense of well being.
Natures aromatherapy.
Appears to work effectively.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Related quotes
Margaret
I KNOW a garden where white lilies grow,
Under the grey sweet-laden apple boughs;
It is a garden where the roses blow,
And honeysuckle covers half the house.
O happy garden, do you keep the vows
Breathed in your quiet ear beneath the rose,
Or do you tell the tale to each soft wind that blows?
Across your grassy paths she used to stray,
She moved among you like a living flower,
Her beauty drank your beauty every day,
Your beauty decked her beauty every hour.
You gave her rose and lily for a dower,
With all sweet flowers and fruits your bosom bore--
She took them all--and now she comes not any more.
O garden, if you breathe such secret things
To the south wind who loves you, tell him this:
To spread the scented softness of his wings,
And seek that other garden where she is,
And bid him bear no blossom and no kiss;
Only, dear garden, tell the wind to say
How grey the world is grown since Margaret went away!
poem by Edith Nesbit
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A Perfect Rose
A Perfect Rose
So deep and pure, the one I chose
From this earthly garden. a perfect rose,
Fragile, yet it only bends,
In times of rain are days of winds.
Close to my heart, this rose I hold,
Its' beauty to me like solid gold,
A perfect rose that means so much,
That I am thrilled by a single touch.
A perfect rose it has been said,
Is the symbol of love, a long stem red,
No others can or will compete
For my perfect rose so soft and sweet.
My love for the rose, a beauty still,
Has not faded and never will,
This rose I hold, the one I chose,
My loving wife, a perfect rose.
Richard Netherland Cook
poem by Richard Netherland Cook
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A Colourful Rose Flower!
Colourful rose flowers give a beautiful idea of pleasure;
Lips of rose petals kiss everyone’s heart with pleasure!
Red rose transports one to the world of love and beauty;
Power of rose among all flowers is undisputed forever!
Red rose is for love, beauty, courage and respect, know!
Yellow rose is for joy, friendship, delight and new bonds!
White rose stands for purity, innocence and humility ever;
Pink rose is gifted for appreciation and thanks for deeds.
Orange rose is for desire, enthusiasm and passion ever!
Lavender rose is linked to love at first sight for all lovers!
Blue rose is for healing, dreams and mystery to be realised
And is recently genetically engineered and produced nice!
Who does not love rose flowers of many colours we see now?
Even rose petals are not left from extracting oil to make perfume!
poem by Ramesh T A
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The Red, Red Rose Of Sanity
There is a red, red rose
that grows outside my pane.
A pane that's never opened and where I must remain.
I don't know how long I've been here
or how many years.
All I seem to remember is a red, red rose appears.
As I look outside the pane that's spaced by iron bars,
the only other thing I see at night time are the stars.
The rose that grows outside my pane
I wish that I could touch.
The feel of it I do not know, but the sight's a red, red blush.
They feed me and bathe me and then they bring me back.
And then they give me shots and a pill they call Prozac.
It's then I become so quiet and no one even knows
that the only thing I live for is to see my red, red rose.
Sometimes I hear them talking as I sit there by the pane.
Most words I do not understand except the word 'insane.'
I think it means that something in my head isn't right.
How'd this happen to me? Why is this my plight?
I close my ears to all they say and see my red, red rose.
I often wish the pane was up so I could use my nose
to smell the sweet, sweet perfume I know the rose must give.
It's the only thought I have that makes me want to live.
Sometimes when the snow appears, my rose is gone away.
It's then I do remember, remember how to pray.
I pray that God will send the sun, the warmth and not the snows,
so I can look out of my pane to see my red, red rose.
Dedicated to all who have been institutionalized
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Blooms
In my garden a new rose blooms,
velvet red with heady sweet perfume.
The rose bush itself is carefully tended,
fertilized, when best remembered.
Cut back yearly, pruned in March,
so that when at last
the summer sun breaks through in June
the rose, displays a perfect bloom.
A small distance away, along a weathered fence;
a rose left to ramble, reveals its own elegance.
It’s white, pink flowers cluster
in great multitudes along it’s trailing limbs,
clambering and lightly scented
they grow and bloom untended.
poem by Diana Rosser
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A Beauty of Love!
I enjoy beauty of star studded night sky;
I enjoy beauty of harmonious waves of sea;
I enjoy beauty of peaceful living of people;
I enjoy beauty of natural poems of poets!
Beauty of human life I enjoy in all forms;
Beauty of fun loving children I enjoy often;
Beauty of smiling flowers I enjoy in garden;
Beauty of art work I enjoy in all forms ever!
World is full of beauty Nature bestows to all;
World is paradise due to love and beauty ever;
World is the abode of man's cultural refinement;
World is the spring board to heaven at the end!
Beauty of love is eternal for all to enjoy in life
Evolving animal into man and man into divine!
poem by Ramesh T A
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A Woman Who Grew Into A Rose
(A Poem For 21st Century Women # 2)
(Prov.31: 10–31 / Prov.18: 22 / Matt.13: 10–15)
A Woman Who Grew
Into A Rose
Remains In GOD’s Garden
… and Grows
Her Heartbeats Blossoms
Opens To Disclose
The Prettiest, Feminine
Petals-Pose
A Woman Who Grows
Into A Rose
Her Fresh–Faith Fragrance
Wafts and Flows …
… into A Knowledge
Of Heaven–Scent
She Offers Her Keen
Spiritual–Sense …
(Prov.31: 26)
… which Intoxicates
A Wise Man’s Nose
with Each Blissful Breeze
… Benevolence Blows
(Prov.31: 11,12,28)
& A Woman Who’s Grown
Into A Rose
Stems To Sister Roses
Leaves of Sacred Prose
(Prov.31: 15)
Yes, There Are Lilies, Orchids
& Magnolia–Blooms
and Such Unique Flora
Has Their Trace–Perfume
… Lavenders, Gardenias
& Honeysuckle Aromas
Are Also Potent Enough
To Revive Fainting Comas
(Prov.31: 29)
But Many Wild Roses
In Many Rows & Rows
Are Limited In Layers
… No Cultivation Shows
For A Rose To Impress
Must Be Pruned & Dressed
& When Beautifully Blessed
Is Like A Flower–Empress! *
(Prov.31: 29,30)
& A Woman Who Grows
Into A Caring Rose
Is More Than An Ornament
With Ribbons & Bows …
_______________________
She Is A Woman Who Grows
Into A Rose
& Is Ready To Reap
What She Wisely Sows
& A Woman Who Grows
Into A Rose
Can Rest At Peace
In Sweet Repose
A Woman Who Grows
Into A Rose …
Away – Away! …
Pain Thorns She Throws
Away – Away! …
Her Fears Are Froze
‘Till GOD Will Crush
All Her Foes …
… A Rose Seed Was Buried
‘Till In Humility
The Rose Would Rise Up
In Grateful Modesty
So A Woman Who Grows
Into A Rose
Was Born To Believe
Resurrections’ Roles
Tho’ Other Flowers
Could Do – She Suppose
None Quite Spread Unfolded
… Like A Rose
… in Trust & Courage
& Edges Exposed
Yet Will Not Wilt
Because of Woes …
& Rivers & Rainstorms
& Mountain Streams
The Roots of The Rose
… Have Drank From These
But Twas’ Crystal Fountains
& One Drop of Christ’s Blood
Gave Deep Wells of Life
To Dark-Red Rosebud …
… The Rose – Arches True
To Shafts of Light
& Rises To Glory
In The Morning’s Might
A Woman Who Grows
Into A Rose
Revels In Soft Grass
Between Trail – Toes …
… while Reaching For Delights
and Bright Rainbows
She Is Ever GOD’s …
Dewy–Eyed Rose
… Yes, It Was GOD
Who Lovingly Chose
A Woman Like Me
As A Landscape-Rose
& A Woman Who Grows
Into A Godly Rose
In Moonlit-Gardens
Mercy–Miracles … Glows
(‘Till Everybody Knows
… She Is A Rose)
That GOD Looks After
… and Grows
Written & ©: 12/21/2011
By: The MoonBee
(A Woman Who Grew Into A Rose)
poem by MoonBee Canady
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Mother appears By Vavroovahana Patra
By Vavroovahana Patra
Mother appears on Earth;
In all plays mirth.
Flowers in garden bloom;
Beautiful looks the blossoms.
Cuckoo on tree sings gladly;
Poets enjoy gaily.
Birds twitter pleasantly;
Guys, girls enjoy gleefully.
Nature looks beautiful;
Creatures are delightful.
All pray mother;
She is the Deity of Nature.
Poets pen poems delightfully;
Enjoy the beauty of Nature gaily.
Chant her hymns peacefully;
Pray devotionally.
Mother appears with health, wealth;
Is a Brook of Mirth.
All chant her hymns peacefully;
All surrender on the cosy feet reverentially.
poem by Vavroovahana Patra
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Last Night I Dreamt Your Perfume
Last night I dreamt your perfume
While I held you in my hand
Last night I dreamt your perfume
You will never understand
The way you make me feel
The promise that you give
Last night I dreamt your perfume
Lost in those dreams I live
Last night I dreamt your perfume
Arched fingers cupped your breast
Last night I dreamt your perfume
Felt your warm breath brush my chest
With gel coat slide I gripped you
Sensation through my veins
Last night I dreamt your perfume
She who bears no name
Last night I dreamt your perfume
Your body meshed with mine
Last night I dreamt your perfume
A guilty pleasure, sweet, sublime
Quiet by my pillow
Your touch I never feel
Last night I dreamt your perfume
This morning, wished you real
poem by Bill Smith
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The Flowers I See
The belladonna in the valley, so magical in purple, so deadly within me, the nightshade thou possess, and in thee my life fade. The amaryllis in mine soul, thy scarlet leaf haunts me, for in thy scarlet stained grief, mine love and life I see. The blossom canna even thee! with lips stained with vice, from the vice of pleasure you chose, to create the beauty of thine treasure for our souls to greed. The begonia of beauty delicious thy beauty leave, and like all beauty thou deceive, the love pregnant in me. The oriental poppy, thy aroma helps me to sleep and dream of colors as vivid as thee and as unreal as thy petals be, unreal my dreams of thee. O fairy blossoms, in pink and white wing, inside thy petals the butterfly dwells and the spring ferries sing. Ah! there is the rose, with all its beauty in she which grows, wins the hearts of all whom know, that in the rose our love to doth grow. Still all these flowers look pale next to she, the panther in brown, with eyes of ebony, whom stares at me and sees flowers in my gleaming eye and preys on me before I die.
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Republic Day Vavroovahana Patra
Beauty princess Republic Day appears as a bride adorned with rosy garment;
All people of India enchant with merriment.
All surrender on the feet of freedom fighters, martins;
Living peacefully in freed India content their desire.
Guys and girls, women and men receive the Bride on the altar;
Congratulating the beautiful bride become crazy with pleasure.
Rich and poor enjoy the auspicious day;
Political leaders deliver speech with gay.
With melody people enjoy the august day;
Beautiful girls sing and dance with gay.
The field echoes with enchantment;
All people enjoy with merriement.
Fragrance of blossoms and flowers pervades in the environment;
Students of schools and colleges dance with merriment.
Poets, peasants, patriots enjoy the beauty of Republic Day;
Govt. employees enjoy the day with gay.
All remember Gandhiji, Subhash, Uddam and all martyrs;
On their feet offer blossoms and flowers.
Hindus, Christians, Muslims unite on this day;
Sikhs, Buddhists, jainas enjoy the august day with gay.
poem by Vavroovahana Patra
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One Perfect Rose
A single flow'r he sent me, since we met.
All tenderly his messenger he chose;
Deep-hearted, pure, with scented dew still wet -
One perfect rose.
I knew the language of the floweret;
'My fragile leaves,' it said, 'his heart enclose.'
Love long has taken for his amulet
One perfect rose.
Why is it no one ever sent me yet
One perfect limousine, do you suppose?
Ah no, it's always just my luck to get
One perfect rose.
poem by Dorothy Parker
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The Garden by Moonlight
A black cat among roses,
Phlox, lilac-misted under a first-quarter moon,
The sweet smells of heliotrope and night-scented stock.
The garden is very still,
It is dazed with moonlight,
Contented with perfume,
Dreaming the opium dreams of its folded poppies.
Firefly lights open and vanish
High as the tip buds of the golden glow
Low as the sweet alyssum flowers at my feet.
Moon-shimmer on leaves and trellises,
Moon-spikes shafting through the snowball bush.
Only the little faces of the ladies' delight are alert and staring,
Only the cat, padding between the roses,
Shakes a branch and breaks the chequered pattern
As water is broken by the falling of a leaf.
Then you come,
And you are quiet like the garden,
And white like the alyssum flowers,
And beautiful as the silent sparks of the fireflies.
Ah, Beloved, do you see those orange lilies?
They knew my mother,
But who belonging to me will they know
When I am gone.
poem by Amy Lowell
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Joy and Pleasure
Now, joy is born of parents poor,
And pleasure of our richer kind;
Though pleasure's free, she cannot sing
As sweet a song as joy confined.
Pleasure's a Moth, that sleeps by day
And dances by false glare at night;
But Joy's a Butterfly, that loves
To spread its wings in Nature's light.
Joy's like a Bee that gently sucks
Away on blossoms its sweet hour;
But pleasure's like a greedy Wasp,
That plums and cherries would devour.
Joy's like a Lark that lives alone,
Whose ties are very strong, though few;
But Pleasure like a Cuckoo roams,
Makes much acquaintance, no friends true.
Joy from her heart doth sing at home,
With little care if others hear;
But pleasure then is cold and dumb,
And sings and laughs with strangers near.
poem by William Henry Davies
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Innocence Vavroovahana Patra
Innocence of the Virgin allures daily;
The lover derives peace gaily.
Silvery Beauty allures in morn;
Beauteous becomes the dawn.
The rosy virgin is a Deity;
Inspires with gaiety.
Mind surrenders on Beauty;
Poet derives gaiety.
Beauty is God’s creation;
Frees lover’s tension.
Heavenly Beauty is a Divine gift;
Appears to pervade delight.
She magnifies the beauty of Nature;
Beholding, all derive pleasure.
Tranquilises lover’s mind daily;
Lover likes peacefully.
The cosy rosy flower smiles in the garden of society gaily;
Plays delightfully.
The tiny lovely flower provides peace;
Beholding, lover’s mind enchant with pleasure.
poem by Vavroovahana Patra
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Lotus Vavroovahana Patra
Lotus smiles on the pond;
She is a beautiful creation of God.
Magnifies pond’s beauty;
Poet beholds beauty with gaiety.
Chilly breeze kisses delightfully;
Sun beam kisses lovingly.
Virgins enjoy the beauty gaily;
Passers-by behold the beauty gladly.
Poet enjoys the beauty silently;
Mind remains in the realm of peace glee fully.
Soul drinks the nectar of peace;
Mind surrenders on Natures feet, derives Divine Bliss.
The lovely flower is detached from water;
With sun beam dazzles with pleasure.
With the breeze dances gaily;
Waves on the pure cool water silently.
Being detached from worldly attachment remain peacefully;
As Lotus on the water smiles gaudily.
Worldly attachment provides displeasure.
Being as Lotus live with pleasure.
A tiny flower allures lovers daily;
Poets depict poems delightfully.
Provides everlasting pleasure;
Nature’s peace provider for ever.
poem by Vavroovahana Patra
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Quite Naturally for M 'lady Tai Chi Italy
My garden is a wilderness.
Devoid of all formality
but full of beauty nonetheless.
There everything grows naturally.
Self seeded plants grow where they please
with trees and shrubs placed randomly.
A haunt of butterflies and bees
and fairies too quite probably.
I do not choose to interfere
with what nature decides to do
She knows what plants will flourish here
but always subject to review.
She is a master gardener
superior to any man.
It is entirely up to her
to carry out her master plan.
There’s nothing that I need to do.
Nature supplies the maintenance.
As seasons change so does the view.
Always kept in perfect balance.
The only thing which I supply
are garden seats of weathered wood.
Chosen to blend in carefully
as I intended that they should.
Somewhere to sit and meditate
or if you choose, to read or write.
And sometimes if the hour grows late.
Enjoy the quiet of the night.
My garden is a wilderness
devoid of all formality.
Not the result of laziness
I leave it how it wants to be
26-Sep-08
http: //.blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Fair Rose
Fair rose, fair rose, so sweet and soft,
Just as the skin of a new born babe,
Thy beauty grows as day goes by,
The danger wakes in thy razor thorns.
How, oh how can a creature so beauteous,
Hold such dire treacherousness?
Thou hast drawn me in so close,
Just outside thy painful touch,
When desire outgrows sense,
And thy thorn doth bring red stain.
Fair rose, fair rose, so sweet and soft,
How can thy beauty hold such great pain?
poem by Joseph Cross
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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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Woman Vavroovahana Patra
Woman is a Ganga on Earth;
Is a rivulet of mirth.
Ganga mingles with Ocean enthusiastically;
Derives salvation delightfully.
Husband’s kiss, embracement is woman’s delight;
With peace she surrenders on the feet of Almighty.
The sweet souls derive peace and pleasure;
Are lovely creatures in the lap of Nature.
The new creation smiles delightfully;
Both praise God peacefully.
Woman is a Creator;
Is lovely family’s operator.
Women’s chastity, bravery dazzles in history in golden letters;
They inspire the nation providing pleasure.
Woman is a wonderful creature;
Tranquilises the weary lover.
Woman is respected in the society;
Is a paragon of Beauty.
Her love allures day and night;
Prays for husband on the feet of Almighty.
poem by Vavroovahana Patra
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