En.Citatepedia^®.ro

I Wnt To B.........

i sit on the green soft grass,
gaze upon the sky
my hopes rose high
i want to be a butterfly
will spread my sail on grass pearl cover,
to know the hidden honey of flower
to enjoy the music of hummingbirds's toneless strings,
to know where from glow fly light brings......

poem by Jais Mani
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Not Able To Recall Each Word Anymore...

yes, we burn all the leaves
we do not really like to see the ashes on the ground
so we summon the rain
to spread the foul smell of the dead
thin
and unrecognizable and we ask the grass
to spread
as quickly as possible
to cover the tracks

and then that summer what we see
we like to see
green grass, blue sky, fresh air
flying birds, fluttering green butterflies

we love those conversations
though we do not recall each word anymore

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Mower's Song

My Mind was once the true survey
Of all these Medows fresh and gay;
And in the greenness of the Grass
Did see its Hopes as in a Glass;
When Juliana came, and she
What I do to the Grass, does to my Thoughts and Me.

But these, while I with Sorrow pine,
Grew more luxuriant still and fine;
That not one Blade of Grass you spy'd,
But had a Flower on either side;
When Juliana came, and She
What I do to the Grass, does to my Thoughts and Me.

Unthankful Meadows, could you so
A fellowship so true forego,
And in your gawdy May-games meet,
While I lay trodden under feet?
When Juliana came , and She
What I do to the Grass, does to my Thoughts and Me.

But what you in Compassion ought,
Shall now by my Revenge be wrought:
And Flow'rs, and Grass, and I and all,
Will in one common Ruine fall.
For Juliana comes, and She
What I do to the Grass, does to my Thoughts and Me.

And thus, ye Meadows, which have been
Companions of my thoughts more green,
Shall now the Heraldry become
With which I shall adorn my Tomb;
For Juliana comes, and She
What I do to the Grass, does to my Thoughts and Me.

poem by Andrew Marvell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

This Is How All Sunny Days Should Be

Green grass grows fast, green grass
I want you to grow so fast
So I can leap up, from the ground
And pretend to fly, soar so high
And then gravity, cruel, vile, unkind
Will drag me down, and shut my laugh
And then, green grass, (grow fast)
I’ll be sad of falling down
But then, my friend you’ll muffle my fall
And ill lie there
……..Calm………..
And hide, in the very green, tall,
Great, bed like grass
And then I’ll stare at the sky
(Light blue, immense sky)
And get lost in the clouds
(White, light absorbing clouds)
And then I’ll only hear the birds
And the wind brushing the branches
And the flowers will be dancing
To the rhythm of the air
And then I’ll think
“This is how all sunny days should be”

poem by Ana Ónimo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Love's Palace

IF the woodland and the heath,
And the hedgerows thick with may,
And the weed-flowers underneath,
And the clambering honey-sheath,
And the mosses green and grey,

And the flecks of sun and shade
Lying light upon the grass,
And the ripple in the glade,
And the songs that float and fade,
And the joys that come and pass,

If the dog-rose choir of bees
Whirling golden in the sun,
And the sweetness of the breeze,
And the joists of mighty trees,
And the hoods of purple nun,

If this fabric of delight
Spread around to make the spring
Could but read my wish aright,
Could but aid me as it might,
Could obey me while I sing,

I should build thee such a bower
As the fairies built of old,
Walled with every fragrant flower,
And with many a mighty tower
Domed with purest morning gold.

And thy breath should draw the rose,
And thine ears be filled with sweet
Such as never poet knows,
Such as tricks him while it flows,
And eludes his bar and beat.

And thy couch should be more soft
Than the silk of Eastern days,
Than the rainbow’s flush aloft,
Than the dawning clouds that oft
Melt before us as we gaze.

There my dearest love should rest
Like a bird upon the bough,
Like a fledgeling in its nest,
Like her head upon my breast,
Like my kiss upon her brow.

poem by Arthur Maquarie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Prose to a Rose

Such A flower is the rose
Its colour bursting red
Such a flower if the rose
The flower of passion the poets often said
I could gaze upon its beauty
And not lift thine eyes
And when it closes its petals to go to sleep
A tear of sadness rises in my eyes
Such a flower is the rose
For it reminds me of you my dear
When ever I gaze upon a rose
It makes me wish you were here
Its petals are soft as thy skin
The colour like your lips
Its fragrance is sweet and pure
Like the flavor of your kiss
Such a flower is the rose it beauty
Has been endless through out time
And when ever I see a rose be reassured my love
You are for ever on my mind

poem by John A. Hancock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

September Grass

Well, the suns not so hot in the sky today
And you know I can see summertime slipping on away
A few more geese are gone, a few more leaves turning red
But the grass is as soft as a feather in a featherbed
So Ill be king and youll be queen
Our kingdoms gonna be this little patch of green
Wont you lie down here right now
In this september grass
Wont you lie down with me now
September grass
Oh the memory is like the sweetest pain
Yeah, I kissed the girl at a football game
I can still smell the sweat and the grass stains
We walked home together. I was never the same.
But that was a long time ago
And where is she now? I dont know
Wont you lie down here right now
In this september grass
Wont you lie down with me now
September grass
Oh, september grass is the sweetest kind
It goes down easy like apple wine
Hope you dont mind if I pour you some
Made that much sweeter by the winter to come
Do you see those ants dancing on a blade of grass?
Do you know what I know? thats you and me, baby
Were so small and the worlds so vast
We found each other down in the grass
Wont you lie down with me right here
September grass
Wont you lie down with me now
In this september grass
Lie down
Lie down
Lie down
Lie down
(repeat)
Wont you lie down here right now
In this september grass
Wont you lie down here now
In this september grass

song performed by by James Taylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Sestina

I have come, alas, to the great circle of shadow,
to the short day and to the whitening hills,
when the colour is all lost from the grass,
though my desire will not lose its green,
so rooted is it in this hardest stone,
that speaks and feels as though it were a woman.

And likewise this heaven-born woman
stays frozen, like the snow in shadow,
and is unmoved, or moved like a stone,
by the sweet season that warms all the hills,
and makes them alter from pure white to green,
so as to clothe them with the flowers and grass.

When her head wears a crown of grass
she draws the mind from any other woman,
because she blends her gold hair with the green
so well that Amor lingers in their shadow,
he who fastens me in these low hills,
more certainly than lime fastens stone.

Her beauty has more virtue than rare stone.
The wound she gives cannot be healed with grass,
since I have travelled, through the plains and hills,
to find my release from such a woman,
yet from her light had never a shadow
thrown on me, by hill, wall, or leaves’ green.

I have seen her walk all dressed in green,
so formed she would have sparked love in a stone,
that love I bear for her very shadow,
so that I wished her, in those fields of grass,
as much in love as ever yet was woman,
closed around by all the highest hills.

The rivers will flow upwards to the hills
before this wood, that is so soft and green,
takes fire, as might ever lovely woman,
for me, who would choose to sleep on stone,
all my life, and go eating grass,
only to gaze at where her clothes cast shadow.

Whenever the hills cast blackest shadow,
with her sweet green, the lovely woman
hides it, as a man hides stone in grass.

poem by Dante Alighieri
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

In The Rainy

In the rainy, in my village
It`s good to see
Green grasses around,
Corn fields looking green
With rice plants growing
Vegetable plants are with flowers and fruits,
In morning and evening
Dew on grass, on leaves
Looks like....
Clouds sail,
Cover the blue sky
But when it rains
Changes everything,
Thatch roofs as waterfalls
Let the water fall down
Making some sound.
Dragon-flies move here and there,
Sit on a grass
And challenge one to capture
But when a hand moves
It flies far and again
Sits there to joke.

poem by Satyabrata Barik
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Paco De Lucia In Guitar Strings

the guitar strings of paco de lucia
are not new to me
the sound of his spanish guitar
strumming on my mind
they were with me
in my childhood
with my friends
we get a smooth
long and strong
coconut palm
take it on top
of a hill
covered with green
carabao grass
and we ride
on the palm
slide it
on the hill
and

yehey
yehehey
yehey yehey

we laugh
so hard
my little
brown friends
that
the foreign
white visitors
call monkeys

we take
the coconut palm
on top of the hill
we ride on it
and we slide
on the
hill
green
with
carabao grass
grass

yehey
yehehey
yehey

we tumble
and roll
when we
reach the
foot of the hill
covered with
green
carabao
grass
we
crash

there may
be some bruises
on our arms
and
legs
but we
laugh
we enjoy
the sliding
the falling
the crashing
on the green
green
carabao
grass
we
crash

yehey
yehehey
yehehey

we are
the happy
little brown
monkeys

yehey
yehehey
yehey

we are
happy.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

What Spring Brings

I enjoy what Spring brings.
The freshness of the air,
Supplied by the budding of leaves on trees.
A warming of a breeze that once could freeze.
The brightness of flowers,
As extended daylight hours come.
This rebirth witnessed is welcomed.

I enjoy what Spring brings.
And what that means as Winter melts.
A commitment seems to be given,
To all living beings.
As Mother Nature delivers.
An evolution of beauty,
Slowly growing upon us to know.
How valuable we are to God.
And how this is bestowed.

I enjoy what Spring brings.
The singing of the birds.
The blue of the sky,
And the grass so green.
The laughter of children and the innocence of it all.
The presence of promise...
A remembered frost seemed to have stalled.

I enjoy what Spring brings.
Appreciating I do...
The giving Spring brings with its offerings.
The kind only this time Spring can bring!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Other Greener Pasture

that is the usual case
when you look over the fence that you just built
your eyes gaze to the other side
greener than yours
i mean, the grass, not the greenness of your iris
if you could have built a higher fence
so that you can narrow your gaze
within the four corners of your walls
and live this life that is all yours to own
you could have been happier here

but life is not meant to be
just that
four walls, a higher fence, taking all that come
sitting down
and breathing the air inside
the lungs
which until now have not seen the
rays of the sun

play the game
climb a tree
try jumping over your fences

it is only then when
you realize
that after all
your grass has always been
greener
your air more fresh
your fence most stable.

after all you got a poodle
a rose, a butterfly, a bird,

and this PC
that knows how to write poetry.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Deep in Spring, the Rain's Passed

Spring deep rain pass west lake good
Hundred grass vie beauty
Butterfly confused bee noisy
Clear day hurry flower warm almost blaze

Lily oar paint barge unhurried go
Suspect be spirit
Reflected light ripple in
Water broad wind high carry pipes strings
Deep in spring, the rain's passed- West Lake is good.
A hundred grasses vie in beauty,
Confusion of butterflies, clamour of bees,
The clear day hurries the blossom to burst forth in the warmth.

Oars in lilies, a painted barge moving without haste.
I think I see a band of sprites-
Light reflected in the ripples,
The high wind carries music over the broad water.

poem by Ouyang Xiu
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
Vote! | Copy! | In Romanian

Butterflies And Kites...Goodnight

Balloons on strings,
Sailing, bouncing June
Into July kites skimming
Tails like afternoon

Mosquito hawks on quiet
Water. There! The butterfly
Making its rounds of
Moonflowers' snow petals

Enticing emerald hummingbirds,
Giant moths soundlessly
Fluttering topaz and ruby
Wings. Again! The butterfly

Dips, bobs angel-blue wings.
Balloons, kites, put away
For the night. Hummingbirds,
Butterflies vanish....

There is peace....

poem by Elysabeth Faslund
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Green Green Grass Of Home

The old home town looks the same as I step off the train
Meeting every train in my mind's eye till the man in mail came
Hair like gold, lips like cherry
It's good to touch the green, green grass of home
Green, green grass of home, green green grass of home.
Only dream I know of is to be found hair like gold, lips like a cherry
It's good to touch the green, green grass of home
They'll all come to greet me, on the steps of my sweet dream
It's good I dreamt the green, green grass of home
I wait and look around me at the broken walls that surround me
And out here I was on the ground.
There's a garden in the path of progress unharmed through winter's day break
Then I'll touch the green, green grass of home
They'll all come to greet me from the chains of the old dark hollow
The green, green grass of home
They'll all come to greet me on the steps, my sweet dream

song performed by by Grateful Dead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

G.flower

The grass

was very happy

butttefly sitting...

at a time grass

think a flower....

a grass flower...?

poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Through the field I See

A field of green grass awaits me.
I have been on this grass before and it brought suffering and
anguish.
I wait for the pure colors of pink and red to cover all of the
envious grass.
In this field of colors I have not experienced.
Many a people, hand in hand, take this path of red and pink.
Through many a people take the field of grass choosing the
poison of which they will drink.

poem by Stephen Howard
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Butterfly Weed

Oh lady bug, you've done a good deed.
Setting your table on the butterfly weed,
You're the custodian of all you survey,
On butterfly weed, till the end of the day.

Oh beautiful monarch, where do you feed,
I see you too love the butterfly weed.
You and the ladybug would be poor indeed,
If it was'nt for the butterfly weed.

Oh hummingbird whose throat seems to bleed,
What do you here on the butterfly weed?
All hummingbirds, good advice heed,
We love the orange butterfly weed.

God's smallest creatures, go by one creed,
To congregate on the butterfly weed.
Let the south wind blow, and spread your seed,
So that there will be millions of the butterfly weed.

5/31/03 Alton Texas

poem by Juan Olivarez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Green, Green Grass Of Home

(words & music by claude putman, jr.)
The old home town looks the same,
As I step down from the train,
And there to meet me is my mama and papa
Down the road I look and there runs mary
Hair of gold and lips like cherries
Its good to touch the green, green grass of home
Yes, theyll all be there to meet me,
All creatures smiling sweetly
Its good to touch the green, green grass of home
The old house is still standing,
Though the paint is cracked and dry
And theres an old oak tree that I used to play on
Down the lane Ill walk with my sweet mary
Hair of gold and lips like cherries
Its good to touch the green, green grass of home
Then I awake and look around me
Cold gray walls surround me
And I realize that I was only dreamin
Theres a guard and theres a sad old padre
Arm and arm well walk at daybreak
Again Ill touch the green, green grass of home
Yes, theyll all be there to meet me
In the shadow of that old oak tree
As they lay me beneath the green, green grass of home

song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

The Honey Bee and the Rose

The honey bee hovered over the rose
Waiting for it to bloom
Seeking its daily bread I suppose
Before the rose could adorn a room
A butterfly
Hang around nearby
Coordinating its next vector
For the leftover nectar
The honey bee took charge
When the rose stretched its petals to the sky
First in line before the barrage
A nosedive straight into the rose’s eye
A blue jay and a sparrow
Perched high upon a telephone wire
Sang their song of sorrow
As the scene below was catching fire
The honey bee forgot
About the crown of thorns
But the rose did not
A rose lives for the palace it adorns
How this story end everybody knows
You don’t mess around with a rose
The honey bee got itself into a Gordian knot
A minor sting is all that it got

poem by Alfred Ramos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

In The Grass.

'Tis as if I saw it all — sat now in the grass, and heard
The soft warm wind in my ears like the lilt of a lonely bird;
Sat now in the grasses so — saw, but said never a word.
The two of them in the wood, below me there by the rill;
He with the light on his brow, she in the shadow still;
And a cloud so white goes over the blue on the gleaming hill.
My nest in the grass was good: they deemed that none might see —
Ah God in heaven! my eyes looked out of the hell in me,
As his arm went round her waist, and his lips where mine might be —
Touched hers, as her face drew up like a flower in the light to his —
Touched hers, as I felt her soul shine out in a dream of bliss;
While mine with the pangs of hell was alive in a world like this!
I dared not move, nor could I shut my eyes to it all;
And still they clung and kissed: I heard the waterfall,
I heard the warm wind sing till the day began to pall.
And then they rose, the twain who had taken my life from me;
I did not rise, but lay where none might hear or see,
In the grass in the dark and sobbed, 'Would God that the end might be!'
The years have come since then, and the years have gone but I,
Though the fever of death was strong upon me, did not die;
And though I am old and weak as upon my couch I lie,
'Tis as if I saw it all — sat still in the grass, and heard
The soft warm wind in my ears like the lilt of a lonely bird;
Sat still in the grasses so — saw, but said never a word.

poem by Robert Crawford
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!