En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Graves Of Infants

Infant' graves are steps of angels, where
Earth's brightest gems of innocence repose.
God is their parent, and they need no tear;
He takes them to His bosom from earth's woes,
A bud their lifetime and a flower their close.
Their spirits are an Iris of the skies,
Needing no prayers; a sunset's happy close.
Gone are the bright rays of their soft blue eyes;
Flowers weep in dew-drops oer them, and the gale gently sighs

Their lives were nothing but a sunny shower,
Melting on flowers as tears melt from the eye.
Their deaths were dew-drops on Heaven's amaranth bower,
And tolled on flowers as Summer gales went by.
They bowed and trembled, and they left no sigh,
And the sun smiled to show their end was well.
Infants have nought to weep for ere they die;
All prayers are needless, beads they need not tell,
White flowers their mourners are, Nature their passing bell.

poem by John Clare
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Flowers

(orbison/dees)
When I was a boy I ran among the flowers
Looking left and right at the bright array
I played through the spring, whiled away the hours
Lingered with the flowers every day
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, lifes bouquet
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, along the way
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, lifes bouquet
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, along the way
When the summer ends and the storms of life are over
When the winter comes and the petals fall away
They may write it on my stone, he was just a roller
But he stopped to pick some flowers along the way
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, lifes bouquet
Flowers, picked some flowers, along the way

song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Withered Snowdrops

THEY came in the early spring-days,
With the first refreshing showers
And I watched the growing beauty
Of the little drooping flowers.

They had no bright hues to charm me,
No gay painting to allure;
But they made me think of angels,
They were all so white and pure.

In the early morns I saw them,
Dew-drops clinging to each bell.
And the first glad sunbeam hasting
Just to kiss them ere they fell.

Daily grew their spotless beauty;
But I feared when chill winds blew
They were all too frail and tender,—
And alas! my fears were true.

One glad morn I went to see them
While the bright drops gemmed their snow,
And one angel flower was withered,
Its fair petals drooping low.

Its white sister's tears fell on it,
And the sunbeam sadly shone:
For its innocence was withered,
And its purity was gone.

Still I left it there: I could not
Tear it rudely from its place;
It might rise again, and summer
Might restore its vanished grace.

But my hopes grew weaker, weaker,
And my heart with grief was pained
When I knew it must be severed
From the innocence it stained.

I must take it from the pure ones:
Henceforth they must live apart.
But I could not cut my flow'ret—
My lost angel—from my heart.

Oft I think of that dead snowdrop,
Think with sorrow, when I meet,
Day by day. the poor lost flowers,—
Sullied snowdrops of the street.

They were pure once, loved and loving.
And there still lives good within.
Ah! speak gently to them: harsh words
Will not lead them from their sin.

They are not like withered flowers
That can never bloom again:
They can rise, bright angel snowdrops,
Purified from every stain.

poem by John Boyle O'Reilly
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sorrow And Joys

Bury thy sorrows, and they shall rise
As souls to the immortal skies,
And there look down like mothers' eyes.

But let thy joys be fresh as flowers,
That suck the honey of the showers,
And bloom alike on huts and towers.

So shall thy days be sweet and bright;
Solemn and sweet thy starry night,
Conscious of love each change of light.

The stars will watch the flowers asleep,
The flowers will feel the soft stars weep,
And both will mix sensations deep.

With these below, with those above,
Sits evermore the brooding dove,
Uniting both in bonds of love.

For both by nature are akin;
Sorrow, the ashen fruit of sin,
And joy, the juice of life within.

Children of earth are these; and those
The spirits of divine repose -
Death radiant o'er all human woes.

O, think what then had been thy doom,
If homeless and without a tomb
They had been left to haunt the gloom!

O, think again what now they are -
Motherly love, tho' dim and far,
Imaged in every lustrous star.

For they, in their salvation, know
No vestige of their former woe,
While thro' them all the heavens do flow.

Thus art thou wedded to the skies,
And watched by ever-loving eyes,
And warned by yearning sympathies.

poem by George Meredith
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Rain Drops

Here comes the grey clouds
rolling in,
Spreading rain all over the
town.

Rain drops help to moisten
the earth's beautiful green
grass.

Sidewalks once dusty are
washed and cleaned.

Rivers and lakes are given
plenty more water.

Fishes swim around happy
beneath the rain drops,
creating millions of ripples
upon the water.

Flowers and plants no longer
Thirst,
Even trees and bushes seem
to dance after a good drink
of water,
Animals get their fill of
water too.

Just Like a shower,
Rain drops clean and
cleanse everything,
Leaving the earth refreshed
and renewed.

After the storm has passed,
The sun shines spreading its
warmth.

Rain drops that are left behind
on Flowers, plants, trees and
grass,
It is like heaven for many insects
to fill their thirsty little
mouths.

Without clouds we would have no
rain drops,
Without rain drops everything would
never be the same.

poem by Derek James
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The Reaper And The Flowers

There is a Reaper whose name is Death,
And, with his sickle keen,
He reaps the bearded grain at a breath,
And the flowers that grow between.

``Shall I have nought that is fair?'' saith he;
``Have nought but the bearded grain?
Though the breath of these flowers is sweet to me,
I will give them all back again.''

He gazed at the flowers with tearful eyes,
He kissed their drooping leaves;
It was for the Lord of Paradise
He bound them in his sheaves.

``My Lord has need of these flowerets gay,''
The Reaper said, and smiled;
``Dear tokens of the earth are they,
Where he was once a child.

``They shall all bloom in fields of light,
Transplanted by my care,
And saints, upon their garments white,
These sacred blossoms wear.''

And the mother gave, in tears and pain,
The flowers she most did love;
She knew she should find them all again
In the fields of light above.

O, not in cruelty, not in wrath,
The Reaper came that day;
'Twas an angel visited the green earth,
And took the flowers away.

poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Voices Of The Night : The Reaper And The Flowers

There is a Reaper whose name is Death,
And, with his sickle keen,
He reaps the bearded grain at a breath,
And the flowers that grow between.

'Shall I have nought that is fair?' saith he;
'Have nought but the bearded grain?
Though the breath of these flowers is sweet to me,
I will give them all back again.'

He gazed at the flowers with tearful eyes,
He kissed their drooping leaves;
It was for the Lord of Paradise
He bound them in his sheaves.

'My Lord has need of these flowerets gay,'
The Reaper said, and smiled;
'Dear tokens of the earth are they,
Where he was once a child.

'They shall all bloom in fields of light,
Transplanted by my care,
And saints, upon their garments white,
These sacred blossoms wear.'

And the mother gave, in tears and pain,
The flowers she most did love;
She knew she should find them all again
In the fields of light above.

O, not in cruelty, not in wrath,
The Reaper came that day;
'Twas an angel visited the green earth,
And took the flowers away.

poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Sun flower

In the bright sunny day
My eye’s make a flower their pray
A flower that has indeed crossed
The boundaries of the lost beauty in flowers

A flower which has a very pleasant
View and answer you’re eyes like
Looking at a creasant in the dark sky
This flowers behavior is utmost

Majestic and generous and it
Has the most delightful look
Like looking at a sunset hill
This flower is known as The sun flower

poem by Afrasiab khan
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Flower Show

Flower show
Flowers
Smile
Clour to
Clours...

Hunted for
Heart..
For flower smooth..

Flowers are
Beauty....
Some flowers
Are ugly...

I dont want
This matter...
Flowers are
Only Sumilee'S

That is flowers....

poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Daybreak is A Glowing Bright Ball

Daybreak is a glowing bright ball
from which the fiery rays shine,
sometimes drops falling along with thunder,
with freshness embracing me when I go outside.

Early morning is a bright sun hanging in the heaven
when the colour of the bright blue
catches you with something full of mystery,
with the wind sometimes clinging to you with fingers.

Spring is flower upon flower
that is spread over fruit trees,
the beauty that astonishes you
when the garden of God stretch into the fields.

Summer is fruit that waits ripe and luring
when everything becomes adult,
sunny day upon sunny day
where the prettiest flowers are still flowering.

Autumn is coloured leaves that are everywhere,
the summer still lingering for the last time
and everything has a secret knowledge
that winter is coming, even every sunray

and nowhere I can find the words of a child,
while I am blinded by the glorious world from being young.

poem by Gert Strydom
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Love Lives Beyond the Tomb

Love lives beyond
The tomb, the earth, which fades like dew-
I love the fond,
The faithful, and the true.
Love lies in sleep,
The happiness of healthy dreams,
Eve's dews may weep,
But love delightful seems.
'Tis seen in flowers,
And in the even's pearly dew
On earth's green hours,
And in the heaven's eternal blue.

'Tis heard in spring
When light and sunbeams, warm and kind,
On angels wing
Bring love and music to the wind.
And where is voice
So young, so beautiful, so sweet
As nature's choice,
Where spring and lovers meet?
Love lies beyond
The tomb, the earth, the flowers, and dew.
I love the fond,
The faithful, young, and true.

poem by John Clare
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Thanksgiving! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !

A few drops of rain;
Multi coloured little grass flowers
Come out of earth,
And saplings of Peepul
Raise their head with cheer
On a cobbled path,
Or stick their neck
Out from crevices
In concrete walls.

Is it a gesture of
Thanksgiving
For answering its prayers
After a relentless summer?
Oh, how wondrous
Is nature!
It has a great sense of timing
And subtle humour.

But I fear to tread at dawn
On wet grass… know
The flowers will
Get crushed under my feet,
Yet not complain.
Perplexed,
I ponder, sitting
On a wrought iron bench
in the lawn.
Had an uncanny feeling
They couldn't care less.

poem by Mamta Agarwal
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Flowers are earth's prayers

the flowers are earth's
thanksgiving prayers to the Almighty
if wind is earth's music
the flowers are sweet choruses

poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Flower rain

Try and
Try...
Cry
The sky...

Liittle...
Simply little...
Drops of
Flowers...

? ? ? ?
Yes it is
Not a rain...
Summer time
Sky flow

Of love and
Loveley...
Drops flower's...
Yes it is

Flower rain...
Not come again...
And again...
Without umberlaa
Enjoy it...
Earth was enjoy...!

poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Touch Of Heaven

All creation is burdened by sin
And softness is really quite hard
What we feel as gentle and light
Heaven reveals all has been marred.
For in heaven flowers are ethereal
With petals like gossamer wings
Their fragrance is as Holy incense
Drifting upward to God it sings.

The gardens of Earth may have beauty
But in heaven they cannot compare
Whose flowers are as jewels within silver
For the river of life doth flow there.
The streets of heaven are golden
Yet a gold that is crystal clear
And a sinner cannot walk upon them
For no footprint can ever come near.

The saints walk in pastures so green
In each bosom there is a white stone;
And they take their repose in the shade
Of the shadow that's cast by God's throne.
Yes, there is nothing on Earth that is soft
To us things just, seem to be;
But in heaven all things are of Spirit
Sometimes those things I can see.

poem by Richard Merrell
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On Another's Sorrow

Can I see another’s woe,
And not be in sorrow too?
Can I see another’s grief,
And not seek for kind relief?

Can I see a falling tear,
And not feel my sorrow’s share?
Can a father see his child
Weep, nor be with sorrow fill'd?

Can a mother sit and hear
An infant groan, an infant fear?
No, no! never can it be!
Never, never can it be!

And can He who smiles on all
Hear the wren with sorrows small,
Hear the small bird’s grief and care,
Hear the woes that infants bear,

And not sit beside the nest,
Pouring pity in their breast;
And not sit the cradle near,
Weeping tear on infant’s tear;

And not sit both night and day,
Wiping all our tears away?
O, no! never can it be!
Never, never can it be!

He doth give His joy to all;
He becomes an infant small;
He becomes a man of woe;
He doth feel the sorrow too.

Think not thou canst sigh a sigh,
And thy Maker is not by:
Think not thou canst weep a tear,
And thy Maker is not near.

O! He gives to us His joy
That our grief he may destroy;
Till our grief is fled & gone
He doth sit by us and moan.

poem by William Blake from Songs of Innocence (1789)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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In Memoriam

O FRIEND who passed away while flowers died,
Now that the land bursts into bloom again,
With vivid blossoms o'er the landscape wide,
Purple and white 'mongst, grasses golden-eyed,
In beauteous resurrection o'er the plain,—

My thoughts revert to thee, who liest still,
Under the pulsing, stirring, glowing earth;
Not rising with the lilac on the hill,
Not waking with the sunny daffodil,
Living and breathing with no second birth.

In these sweet days I dream I see thy grave,
A mockery of death, alive with flowers.
The delicate sprays and tender grasses wave,
Blue violets and the hardy crocus brave,
Wooed back to life by sunshine, dew, and showers.

I cannot deem that thou art lying there,
Asleep through all these fervent days of spring;
For I perceive thy spirit in the air,
Around me ever in my dream and prayer,
Enskied and hallowed by thy suffering.

When thou didst walk upon the earth before,
My trivial words and deeds alone were thine;
But now my holiest dreams are evermore
Blended with thoughts of thee, on that far shore,
Where thy pale, girlish face has grown divine.

Through the dark shadows thou must go alone;
And lo! thou hast a dauntless bravery,
A most majestic resignation shown;
A valiant patience, a faith not overthrown
By the dread terror of uncertainty.

The day had fled, from thee for evermore,
Thy soul was ebbing with the waning light,
And still thou asked, aweary and heartsore,
The same pathetic question o'er and o'er,—
'O, I am tired! will I go to-night?'

Aye, thou didst go,— and where? Thou knowest now.
Nature is innocent as well as fair;
Lillies, as well as amaranth, wreathe her brow.
She hath thy soul; because I cannot know
Where it may be, I feel it everywhere.

And thus the spring hath brought me flowers of worth.
O mourners, cease to weep o'er empty graves!
Open them all! no dead come trooping forth,
To fill with ghastly hosts the living earth;
Only the flowers bloom, the green grass waves.

Those ye laid low with solemn rites and tears,
Elude you; while ye weep, they all have flown.
And so I lay aside my doubts and fears;
My friend in day-dreams and at night appears,
And hovers near when I am most alone.

poem by Emma Lazarus
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Universal Flowers

All all

Trees are

Earth flowers...

Wonder of

Green...

Making trees

Is

Not only

Earth flower's...

A unversel flowers...

Some flowers

Is big...

Some is...

Sumall...

That is not enough

Trees also

Flowers

For

The univers...!

Yes or not...?

poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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The Shower (I)

1.

'TWAS so ; I saw thy birth. That drowsy lake
From her faint bosom breath'd thee, the disease
Of her sick waters and infectious ease.
But now at even,
Too gross for heaven,
Thou fall'st in tears, and weep'st for thy mistake.

2.

Ah ! it is so with me : oft have I press'd
Heaven with a lazy breath ; but fruitless this
Pierc'd not ; love only can with quick access
Unlock the way,
When all else stray,
The smoke and exhalations of the breast.

3.

Yet, if as thou dost melt, and with thy train
Of drops make soft the Earth, my eyes could weep
O'er my hard heart, that's bound up and asleep ;
Perhaps at last,
Some such showers past,
My God would give a sunshine after rain.

poem by Henry Vaughan
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Still Im Sad

Version 1 (from stranger in us all)
See the stars come fallin down the sky
Gently passing, they kiss your tear drops dry
See the wind come, softly blow
Your hair from your face
And the rain comes falling down
In its crazy way
Still Im sad
For myself my tears just fall in the dust
As I search in the night and find theyre lost
See the wind come gently blow
Time into my heart
And the rain comes falling down
While were apart
Still Im sad
Version 2 (yardbirds version? )
See the stars come joining down from the skies
Gently passing they kiss your tears when you cry
See the wind of summer blow your hair upon your head
See the rain, the falling rain, its rain
Still Im sad
Oh my flowers, my tears are falling two days
They are driving the night profound, they are lost
Flower, flower the wind is blowing
Time into my heart
When the wind blows hard, we are apart
Still Im sad
Oh, oh, oh, oh, still Im sad
Oh, oh, oh, oh, how Im sad

song performed by by Rainbow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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