Song be Delicate
Let your song be delicate.
The skies declare
No war — the eyes of lovers
Wake everywhere.
Let your voice be delicate.
How faint a thing
Is Love, little Love crying
Under the Spring.
Let your song be delicate.
The flowers can hear:
Too well they know the tremble,
Of the hollow year.
Let your voice be delicate.
The bees are home:
All their day's love is sunken
Safe in the comb.
Let your song be delicate.
Sing no loud hymn:
Death is abroad . . . Oh, the black season!
The deep — the dim!
poem by John Shaw Neilson
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My Delicate Flower
I love you
I love you so much
You're the reason for me being so happy
You're the reason I feel so blessed
My love
You're my delicate flower
Just let me love you
Just let me take care of you
You and I can count the stars
Or we can frolic in the grass hills
My love
My delicate flower
Let's enjoy our time together
Rolling down the hill in each others arms
Like birds of a feather
I'm not sure how things the way they are can get any better
Let's lay down beside each other in the flower garden
Just let things settle in where they are
Happiness won't be much too far
I love you
I love you so much
My delicate flower
poem by Justin Gildow
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My Generation Reading The Newspapers
We must be slow and delicate; return
the policeman's stare with some esteem,
remember this is not a shadow play
of doves and geese but this is now
the time to write it down, record the words—
I mean we should have left some pride
of youth and not forget the destiny of men
who say goodbye to the wives and homes
they've read about at breakfast in a restaurant:
'My love.'—without regret or bitterness
obtain the measure of the stride we make,
the latest song has chosen a theme of love
delivering us from all evil—destroy. . . ?
why no. . . this too is fanciful. . . funny how
hard it is to be slow and delicate in this,
this thing of framing words to mark this grave
I mean nothing short of blood in every street
on earth can fitly voice the loss of these.
poem by Kenneth Patchen
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In her name
In her name
~
I find her a-muse-ing
So delicate, beautiful and fair
That she plays upon my heart
A play of a thousand words
Like a butterfly serenade
A girl of dreamlike inspiration
Strikes a chord of verse
That my love is prone to song
To sing as softly sweet
As the clear ocean sky
For she is lit by the heavens
An array of stars above
So delicate, beautiful and fair
A girl who I am prone to say
A-muses me in such a way
I play with words in her name
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Women 1
Nectar of purity
Synthetic romance
And drunk love
Magnificent equipment
Delicate kiss
Delicate tongue
Wild and flawless
Hurt and broken
Blossomed star
With an ancient glow
poem by Dustin Orin Talley
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Delicate Flower
Love is a delicate flower
that needs to be treaded
with warmth and care;
nurturing with a loving heart
knowing t will always be there.
Never let love wither
in case it may die,
but keep it warm
because its beauty
is beyond compare.
Love is a delicate flower
that needs nurturing everyday.
16 February 2011
poem by David Harris
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On Suddenly Receiving A Curl Long Refused
Oh, saucy gold circle of fairyland silk—
Impudent, intimate, delicate treasure:
A noose for my heart and a ring for my finger:—
Here in my study you sing me a measure.
Whimsy and song in my little gray study!
Words out of wonderland, praising her fineness,
Touched with her pulsating, delicate laughter,
Saying, “The girl is all daring and kindness!”
Saying, “Her soul is all feminine gameness,
Trusting her insights, ardent for living;
She would be weeping with me and be laughing,
A thoroughbred, joyous receiving and giving!”
poem by Vachel Lindsay
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Sing A Song For You My Love
SING A SONG FOR YOU MY LOVE
A lovely song a love song
Sing a song for you my love
Sung in a wonderful soothing voice
Sending a melody message by the dove
Invites you to take your choice
Catch this ultimate chance to share
Truly wherever you will be I’ll dare
Musical notes show how much I care
To loose you I wouldn’t bare
Never ever let me down again
Open up the shutters of your heart
Don’t ask for another bargain
Pull out with strength the poisoned dart
Can this time be meaning for ever
Love has got such strangely ways
No understanding even though being clever
Deep different emotions filling our days
Want to sing a song for you my love
Higher notes song in my voice
Your love places spirit high above
Counting heartbeats final choice
Sing a song for you my love
A lovely song a love song
poem by Morhardt Carmen Mencita Monoi Angel
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A Delicate Flower
once you tear a flower up,
they can never come back.
leave the precious flower alone,
let it bloom into a beautiful art.
there are so many different flower,
red one, blue one, pink ones.
there are even multicolors,
look around your garden.
notice that you're not alone,
the whole world is around you.
dont pretend to be something you're not,
because you only have one chance.
a delicate flower needs love,
in order to live with the world.
most of all, you need someone,
so help a delicate flower.
you'll never regret it,
they need to be cared for.
just like you,
you're not alone.
poem by Heather Cropper
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The Garden Of Death
There is an isle in an unfurrowed sea
That I wot of, whereon the whole year round
The apple-blossoms and the rosebuds be
In early blooming ; and a many sound
Of ten-stringed lute, and most mellifluous breath
Of silver flute, and mellow half-heard horn,
Making unmeasured music. Thither Death
Coming like Love, takes all things in the morn
Of tenderest life, and being a delicate god,
In his own garden takes each delicate thing
Unstained, unmellowed, immature, untrod,
Tremulous betwixt the summer and the spring :
The rosebud ere it come to be a rose,
The blossom ere it win to be a fruit,
The virginal snowdrop, and the dove that knows
Only one dove for lover ; all the loot
Of young soft things, and all the harvesting
Of unripe flowers. Never comes the moon
To matron fulness, here no child-bearing
Vexes desire, and the sun knows no noon.
But all the happy dwellers of that place
Are reckless children gotten on Delight
By Beauty that is thrall to Death ; no grace,
No natural sweet they lack, a chrysolite
Of perfect beauty each. No wisdom comes
To mar their early folly, no false laws
Man-made for man, no mouthing prudence numbs
Their green unthought, or gives their licence pause ;
Young animals, young flowers, they live and grow,
And die before their sweet emblossomed breath
Has learnt to sigh save like a lover's. Oh !
How sweet is Youth, how delicate is Death !
poem by Lord Alfred Douglas
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Easter Is Here
Easter is here lent is over. I wounder if my love will transfer over
Will my love come in the form of chocolate, jelly beans or an egg
Will it be soft delicate and delicious of hard sealed and hidden
Will she have to break in just to get a glimpse
Or will she just have to dive in
Will she relate my love to something sweet or bitter like weak tea
Can i love her like she a delicate sweet or a 5 cent candy
can i love her like she deserves or will i just use her and observe
will i savor the taste or let such a sweet thing go to waste
Will i bite with all of my might just to stay in the fight
Or will i let her melt like an expensive chocolate delight
Will she be my source of energy or my sweet tooth's enemy
Will she love what i can give or will she cherish what i did.
Will she take the time to crack the egg or just hack and pull away
Easter is here and I'm alive I'll love you until i run out of time
poem by James Davis
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Only A Few Know The Timing Of Love
Intimacy of Love,
- Of the young husband and wife -
Desire for union between lovers
is delicate and softer than flowers.
Only a few know the timing of love,
approach and enjoy the charms of love.
poem by V.K. Kanniappan
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The Voice of Love
After a long solitary confinement
In deep love for someone
I heard a song
A song in the woods
Where I stood
The woods which stood in the solitude
There was nobody
Nobody except me
Nobody heard the song
Which rapped in the woods
Somewhere, but I didn't know where
The song I heard wasn't raspy
Neither soft nor melodious
The song I heard was heart-strucken'd
There was a tone
A tune where you can find
A rapt of love.
The song has given pathogen in me
Who's that guy?
Singing in love
Crying and dying in love?
I listened to the song carefully
Now I found
The lonely woods are in me
And the song I heard
was the voice
The voice of love in me.
poem by D'menz Veen
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thy Delicate Lips
Thy delicate lips
Thy delicate lips
Ye talking eyes
Yond curly locks
These velvety hands
Cone shaped Fingers
On a Brittle wrist
Milky white feet
And prominent nose
Under lucky forehead
Are well arranged
As a rhyming scheme
In a classical sonnet
poem by Akram Saqib
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From Your Favorite Sky
Do you dare
Take a breathe
Do you dream of a tragic death
I know you do
Do you wail
Do you weap
Do you sing yourself to sleep
You delicate flower
And so what is love?
And who am I
To dare to pull the stars from your favourite sky
You were born
Forth from joy
You're every girl and boy
You know you are, you know you are
And you dress
Like a dame
And you burn on a catholic flame
By the hours, by the hours
And so what is love?
And who am I?
To dare to pull the stars from your favourite sky
You possess
S'avoir faire
Put cheap bleach on your hair
You know you do, you know you do
Do you dare
Take a breath
Do you dream of a tragic death
You delicate flower
And so what is love?
And who am I?
To dare to pull the stars from your favourite sky
And so what is love?
And who am I?
To dare to pull the stars from your favourite sky
From your favourite sky
song performed by by I Am Kloot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An English Love
Not a rose, or a lily,
But a buttercup
Languishing in a field of gold,
In some English meadow
Waiting to give herself to him.
That boy with the impetuous smile,
And the eyes of Perseus
That hides a spirit, more delicate than any poet’s heart,
But not from her,
For she is more precious than all the songs of the world,
And I am nothing more than an apple.
Lost in an orchard of charades and folly.
She released me, with her lips,
For she is my English Love
Like the chalk streams of England, giving birth to the May fly
Every day is our love, our lifetime,
I celebrate the nightingale, and the wren,
For their song is our song,
Our home, this England, this love,
For my English love, my soul quivers,
Her glances, our hearts together
Her mouth, her soft voice, her touch,
Rivaled only by our meadow,
Where we first kissed,
Where the swallows flew their dance of love,
And where the pheasants strut in all their majesty
Where we shared our poem of Love
Our love, this love, to share a future
To cherish, our hopes, our joy, our dreams,
To cherish this Earth, this Life
For this is my dream,
And I bear my soul to this quest.
I do not care for life’s baubles, nor do I crave fame,
I am not in ore of Beauty, for it is shallow,
A dream, which will haunt the fickle
My love is for you.
Kept safe, among the fields of gold,
Safe in our English meadow,
Waiting for the sun, to seed our love once more
For she makes me more,
Than, I am meant to be
And my poem of love I give to you.
poem by Steven Cooke
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Melody
Melody
By: Adam M. Snow
O' Melody, names like the angel's song;
music swaying around thine love
but of thy love my days be long;
O' my Melody, sang my song.
I long to hear thy voice, thy angelic voice
soothes away my hearts desire.
But it be that of love's choice
echoing upon thy voice.
Can thee forever love a lonely man such as I,
or do thee live on knowing not that of love,
or do thee walk passed and curse myself to die?
This feeling, this love O' Melody I cannot deny.
Let me hear thy choir of thy song;
a voice so deep calming the soul.
Let thy voice and passion be strong;
O' my Melody, sang my song.
Sing; let thy voice be heard across the Earth.
Let it pierce thy shadows.
Let the world see a new found birth
and the wonders its worth.
O' Melody, a song I longed after
to cleanse my immortal soul,
to feel the joy and laughter
and be with you hereafter.
O' Melody, names like the angel's song;
music swaying around thine love
but of thy love my days be long;
O' my Melody, sang my song.
O' Melody, play thy music for I love thee.
Thy lyrics be true thy heart,
Thy song be thy key
to set all souls free.
Let me hear thy choir of thy song;
a voice so deep calming the soul.
Let thy voice and passion be strong;
O' my Melody, sang my song.
poem by Adam M. Snow
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Albatre
This lady in the white bath-robe which she calls a
peignoir,
Is, for the time being, the mistress of my friend,
And the delicate white feet of her little white dog
Are not more delicate than she is,
Nor would Gautier himself have despised their contrasts
in whiteness
As she sits in the great chair
Between the two indolent candles.
poem by Ezra Pound
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From Your Favourite Sky
Do you dare, Take a breath
Do you dream of a tragic death
I know you do
Do you wail, do you weep
Do you sing yourself to sleep
You delicate flower
And so what is love? And who am I?
To dare to pull the stars from your favourite sky
You were born, Far from joy
You're every girl and boy
you know you are, you know you are
And you dress, Like a dame
And you burn on a catholic flame
By the hours, by the hours
And so what is love? And who am I?
To dare to pull the stars from your favourite sky
You possess, s'avoir faire
Put cheap bleach on your hair
You know you do, You know you do
Do you dare, Take a breath
Do you dream of a tragic death
You delicate flower
And so what is love? And who am I?
To dare to pull the stars from your favourite sky
And so what is love? And who am I?
To dare to pull the stars from your favourite sky
From your favourite sky
song performed by by I Am Kloot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Mother Is...
a mother is loving,
she stays up all night with
your sicknesses coughing and howling
patting you back, comforting
a mother is loving
a mother is caring
she holds you when your
heart feels like breaking
crying with you when you are aching
a mother is caring
a mother is interested
she asks about your days
and what boys did what and the flirting
“25 cents in the jar please? ! ”
a mother is interested
a mother wants what’s best
curfew broken, I’m so sorry you can’t
late for church family prayers, scripture study
have to get A’s be home before time
a mother knows what’s best
a mother is delicate
“Please don’t do that, come back
you know better choose the right
I love you! ”
a mother is delicate
a mother is you
we’ll get through this together
think of the memories only memories
I am here for you be happy he would want that
a mother is YOU!
poem by S.M. Riggin
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Your song
Stars fill the sky,
Night is so young.
I feel so happy and high,
So, sing me a song.
Bring your guitar,
and raise up your voice.
Take me to a place so far,
away from people and their noise.
Your song takes me up,
and guide me through the haze.
Your song never stopped,
to throw me in a maze,
A maze where i'm breathless but free
where i love you and you love me.
Sing me that song about your life,
and how it started when we met.
Sing me that song about our love,
that song i shall never forget.
Sing me your song and bring me to life,
for those moments only..i surfive.
Angels took your song and wrote it in the sky,
with the beautiful cluster stars.
All the world saw it and they knew,
we are in love and you belong to my arms.
Your song is the love anthem,
As you sing that, you will wait for me,
you love me,
you need me.
Your song puts rules for love.
Sing your song all our lives,
i'll never get enough...