Nectar Sweet
My humming bird heart
beats for you
faster still with you in sight;
but you my flower
elude me.
I flutter
mid-air in flight
above other flowers
but no nectar drips from my beak's visit;
no matter how far I plunge
toward some flower's-center
it's not yours, and I retreat.
I pause,
flutter away
without that sweet juice of yours
I crave.
Possessing it is my Obsessions' Obsession.
Nothing deters my eye
from my flower-mission;
neither cat
nor rival bird
challenge me
when they espy my determined ire,
as I put my sharpened beak on display,
exhibiting to them my humming bird speed
and my reckless need.
No, they shrink
away
with second thoughts
and leave me to my nectar quest.
Some flowers are beautiful,
but none so beautiful as yours;
this is set in me for all time-
even if I,
nectarless,
become weak and falter-
no longer able to fly
and plunge spiraling to the ground;
I will have you my sweet
or no nectar at all.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
A Humming-Bird And A Butterfly
Once upon a time...
On a lovely spring afternoon
a butterfly was flying in the garden
She landed on a flower,
And left its nectar.
A humming bird
was attracted by its smell
and fed itself with it.
In all the afternoons of that sping,
the butterfly flew,
Spreading her wings between the flowers
Leaving its nectar on them.
The humming-bird was enchanted,
And he drank it in all the flowers,
Because he fell in love with her.
poem by Lindemberg Pereira da Silva
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Flower of Delight
Enter my flower
love becomes an open door
into my hearts way
Once again I come
drinking in your sweet nectar
flower of delight
Color my dreams blue
enter my lovely flower
in the morning dew.
I melt in nectar
of this beautiful flower
she overwhelmes me.
poem by Heather Burns
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Was a Caterpillar
In a warm spring day
the bee flied far away.
It had left its shelter
to collect the sweet nectar
from the beautiful flowers
using God’s dower.
When the bee flied over the honey flower
it couldn’t see me, a poor caterpillar.
I looked at the bee,
I looked at the sky,
I also wanted to fly
learning the world around
and not to creep on the ground.
Burning with passion, tearfully
I had said hopefully:
“I love you the bee.
I would agree to do anything
if only I could fly with you.
Don’t tell me adieu!
I haven’t any view from the ground
I just feel to be bound to the ground.”
I was lost in tears.
Having enough sufferings during the day time
I had fallen into a deep sleep
as there was no more strength to weep.
But when I woke up in the morning chime
I thought it was still a dream time
as I could now fly into the sky,
I turned into a butterfly.
The same morning having seen me
the bee’s heart melted with joy.
Oh, boy! It was in love with me at first sight.
Together we had a wonderful flight.
Now we are flying together
in the fields, in the woods, in the gardens
and our love hardens.
The flowers give us their sweet nectar drink,
there is no more troubles to think.
©Larisa Rzhepishevska
December 12th,2010
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Turned Into a Butterfly
In a warm spring day
the bee flied far away.
It had left its shelter
to collect the sweet nectar
from the beautiful flowers
using God’s dower.
When the bee flied over the honey flower
it couldn’t see me, a poor caterpillar.
I looked at the bee,
I looked at the sky,
I also wanted to fly
learning the world around
and not to creep on the ground.
Burning with passion, tearfully
I had said hopefully:
“I love you the bee.
I would agree to do anything
if only I could fly with you.
Don’t tell me adieu!
I haven’t any view from the ground
I just feel to be bound to the ground.”
I was lost in tears.
Having enough sufferings during the day time
I had fallen into a deep sleep
as there was no more strength to weep.
But when I woke up in the morning chime
I thought it was still a dream time
as I could now fly into the sky,
I turned into a butterfly.
The same morning having seen me
the bee’s heart melted with joy.
Oh, boy! It was in love with me at first sight.
Together we had a wonderful flight.
Now we are flying together
in the fields, in the woods, in the gardens
and our love hardens.
The flowers give us their sweet nectar drink,
there is no more troubles to think.
©Larisa Rzhepishevska
December 12th,2010
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Flower and Bird
Amongst the lonely branches of a tree,
Stood a lovely flower fragrant and free,
She was the sight of every passer-by,
'What a beautiful flower! ' people would cry.
The flower in the prime of its youth,
Couldn’t identify life and its real truth,
Proud by its fragrance and beauty it stood,
And thought that beauty was what made it good,
Impressed by its beauty a little bird would sing,
The tale of its love and the whole valley would ring,
Perched on the branch of the great oak tree,
The bird sings its love for the flower to see,
People would stop and look at this tale,
Of the beautiful lady and the gallant male.
And one day the bird let its heart out,
And the beautiful flower refused with pout,
The bird wanting its beloved’s heart,
Asked her, 'What do I do so that we don’t part? '
And the proud flower told the lonely bird,
'There is a flower down the valley, have you heard?
Its brilliant red, is said is more beautiful than me,
So dear bird, make me red, as red as I can be! '
The bird said, 'But your beauty is no match,
So beautiful are you that my heart, you did catch! '
The flower in its pride and anger,
Told the bird 'Oh! Don’t bother',
The sadness in its eyes, the bird couldn’t see,
And said, 'I gift the colour red to thee! '
Saying this he pierced his heart on a thorn,
And spilt the blood on her till he was torn,
And the flower indeed did become red,
With the love of the little bird’s blood,
People would stare at the beautiful flower,
And amongst the branches it would hover,
The people passing soon forgot the song of the bird,
But the silent lament of the flower was never heard,
The flower never forgot the love of its bird,
But the melody of the poor bird was never heard!
poem by Supriya Mothay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Listen to The Song of Invisible Bird!
Listen to The Song of that invisible bird,
The Song of great singer several souls heard,
Sings sitting on tree of life, hidden under every leaf,
Its song go unheard by those pretend deaf,
Ever tuned to that great music,
Everytime it sings same song,
But with different lyrics and different words,
Autumn may come followed by spring,
Leaves may fall to make way to new,
Each leaf has that song, the bird flies under cover of green leaf,
When old yellow one fall,
Green leaves should learn from the fall of the old!
One can wait flowers to bloom,
Or can reap all fruits mature,
or remove immature buds or raw fruits,
The tree of life spread to several worlds,
One parallel to other,
Makes one world happy by another,
some may cross and intersect,
only to give or take life!
Come an sit near a flower,
Look at frog waiting for insects to come,
The invisible bird sings its song,
May it be heart of the flower,
It is flower for you,
source of nectar to insects,
place where frog gets its food!
It is cage for that bird ready to fly,
enters as nectar into insect,
and it enters frog as insects,
and moves along food chain,
It may be invisible to these eyes,
Yet it has its flight can be seen,
Look at your heart, the same bird sing,
Who knows when and where is its next flight?
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Dracula Flower
The flower was stretching
It's hand to find a honey-bee
To be embraced and kissed!
The flower remained
In meditation to invoke God
To sent her groom
As she bore the nectar
To be sucked and emptied
By the trunk of a honey-bee
The long hairy hands
Of the flower frightened
The butterflies move wantonly
The caterpillars jumping
In quest to quench the thirst!
As the flower in penance
Heard the humming
Of a honey-bee unseen
She opened her eyes
In search to up and sides
And she was enthused
To see the blue-black
Groom of her from heaven
With wings shivering
As if in a whirl wind
Moving to her lips
To kiss and empty her!
The flower leaped her hand
To embrace the honey-bee
Whose nail ladden legs
Did wand her hands
Yet she never let loose
Her embrace to get-him close
To her breast stored with honey.
The honey-bee sucking nectar
From the lips of the flower
Never see him trapped
In the tangle of figments.
He struggled and jerked
But the flower sucked
The honey-bee's life
In return to her nectar he sucked
poem by Vadakkumpurath Ramesan
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Gibberish
Many a flower have I seen blossom,
Many a bird for me will sing.
Never heard I so sweet a singer,
Never saw I so fair a thing.
She is a bird, a bird that blossoms,
She is a flower, a flower that sings;
And I a flower when I behold her,
And when I hear her, I have wings.
poem by Mary Elizabeth Coleridge
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Colibri A Sonnet
Colibri (sonnet)
Beautiful colibri your fluttering wings
so rapid it looks like you are still in air…
drinking with your long sleek beak
forbidden nectar from the honey tree.
You fly from tree to tree care not who
you hurt with your purr of love.
Humming bird so lovely you are, totally
amoral, I will catch one day put you in
a cage, serve you sweet honey from a jar,
the one in the fridge with a picture of
a bee on, and you will buzz for me alone
till I set you free… if I ever do.
For I too need to hear the sound of love
and dream of being totally immoral.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Guests
Sunflower tall and hollyhock, that wave in the
wind together,
Corn-flower, poppy, and marigold, blossoming
fair and fine,
Delicate sweet-peas, glowing bright in the quiet
autumn weather,
While over the fence, on fire with bloom,
climbs the nasturtium vine!
Quaint little wilderness of flowers, straggling
hither and thither -
morning-glories tangled about the larkspur
gone to seed,
Scarlet runners that burst all bounds, and wan-
der, heaven knows whither,
And lilac spikes of bergamot, as thick as any
weed.
And oh, the bees and the butterflies, the hum-
ming-birds and sparrows,
That over the garden waver and chirp and
flutter the livelong day!
Humming-birds, that dart in the sun like green
and golden arrows,
Butterflies like loosened flowers blown off by
the wind in play.
Look at the red nasturtium flower, drooping,
bending, and swaying;
Out the gold-banded humble-bee breaks and
goes booming anew!
Hark, what the sweet-voiced fledgling sparrows
low to themselves are saying,
Pecking my golden oats where the corn-flowers
gleam so blue!
Welcome, a thousand times welcome, ye dear
and delicate neighbors -
Bird and bee and butterfly, and humming-bird
fairy fine!
Proud am I to offer you a field for your grace-
ful labors;
All the honey and all the seeds are yours in
this garden of mine.
I sit on the door-step and watch you. Beyond
lies the infinite ocean,
Sparkling, shimmering, whispering, rocking itself
to rest;
And the world is full of perfume and color and
beautiful motion,
And each new hour of this sweet day the
happiest seems and best.
poem by Celia Thaxter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Polygamy
A flower wants to get crushed,
Sucked of its nectar and gets impregnated;
Who the prince is, does not matter.
A beetle darts flower to flower,
Time to time, tasting different kinds,
With lust to explore the flowers.
Polygamy, not polyandry, is the need.
Monogamy demands women prostitutes.
10.09.2000, Pkmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Lovely Flower
I thank God for my lovely flower
For there are millions who are ignorant of her existance,
The enchanting aroma that is with her,
Or her charm that makes me to always keep thinking,
I am fascinated that she was wonderfully made,
Then just kept for me to find one day.
Seeing her is like waking up at dawn to bath in the Sun's rays
She has harmless attraction like a colorful butterfly,
Or a bright flower always sort by the bees for it's beauty,
Not forgetting it's sweet nectar also!
That is my sweet Sweetie.
The flower is far from me and I cannot smell the aroma now,
Last night I went to dreamland where I hoped to find my flower Then I woke up this morning to melodious sounds,
Sounds of chirping birds in the nearby tree as if to praise her,
Thinking about my flower.
I want to tend and care for this flower,
So that she may produce more flowers like herself,
O flower! Remain that lovely forever.
poem by Nyota Yasulwe
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Butterfly Buffet
Butterfly, butterfly, your colors so bright
Where do you go when God turns out the light?
Do you find some place safe that you can call home?
Or continue to flutter, continue to roam?
Through a buffet of flavors, slurping nectar, so sweet
Savoring a myriad of flowers, as their juices you drink
Until your tunny's content and you've had your fill
Now let your food settle till you next nectar meal
Butterfly, butterfly, your colors so bright
Where do you go when God turns out the light?
Do you continue to fly from flower to flower
Or call it a day then wait out the hours?
Do you find a cozy and compfy place
Where you're sure to show God's beauty and grace?
I know I've seen you many times before
At a picnic, a ball game, at the seashore
Look for the beauty God gave us to share
And we will find butterflies plentiful there.
Butterfly, butterfly, colors so bright
Where do you go when God turns off the lights?
poem by Gail Godin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Butterfly, Butterfly
Butterfly, butterfly
Your colors so bright
Where do you go
When God turns out the light?
Do you find someplace safe
That you can call home?
Or continue to flutter;
Continue to roam?
Through a buffet of flavors
Slurping nectar so sweet
Savoring a myriad of flowers
As their juices you drink.
Until your tummy's content
And you've had your fill
Now let your food settle
Until your next nectar meal.
Butterfly, butterfly,
Your colors so bright
Where do you go
When God turns out the light?
Do you continue to fly
From flower to flower
Or call it a day
Then wait out the hours?
Do you find a cozy
And comfy place
Where you're sure to show
God's beauty and grace?
Butterfly, butterfly
With colors so bright
Where do you go
When God turns out the light?
I've seen you
Many times before
At a picnic, a ballgame,
At the seashore.
Look for the beauty
God gave us to share
And we will find butterflies
Plentiful there.
Butterfly, butterfly,
Colors so bright
Where do you go
When God turns out the light?
poem by Gail Godin
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Sonnet: A Poet’s Dream
I dreamt I turn’d into a rose flower,
That’d fully blossomed, looking so lovely!
Because I wished to be a bee-lover,
One morn as dawn came on very stealth’ly.
I was a rose, red-petaled and much pretty,
Emitting fragrance really very sweet!
My lover-bee buzz’d on to me happily,
Hovering around, with his rhythmic wing-beat.
“Good morning sweetheart! ” it said and kissed me.
“I’ve flown for miles, seeking your divine face, ”
“O spare me some nectar for I’m thirsty,
And some more nectar for my kids, in case.”
“O bee-lover! All my nectar’s for thee;
Only promise to always visit me! ”
poem by John Celes
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A Beautiful Bird That Cannot Escape From The Cage
there is a beautiful bird caged in my house
its flumes are red
its beak of course is black
its claws neat and clean
and cannot scratch
its eyes blank
its feathers dull
(perhaps she is bored to death
but she is still that beautiful bird caged in the heart
of my house)
when she sings
usually in the night before everyone sleeps
everyone hears
what sadness lies in the heart of its
throat
i know that it wants to escape from the cage in the heart of the house
but someone more cruel
wants it caged
forever
there is a beautiful red bird caged in my heart
i want it set free
she understands it well
she wants to be free
i know it too well
but things will just be what it is
there is nothing we can do
she is the beautiful red feathered bird caged
and shall never be free
like the stairs, like the walls, like the beams like the stars
shall this red bird be.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A fable about the bee and the butterfly
Once upon a time
In a warm spring day
The bee flied far away.
It has left it’s shelter
To collect the sweet nectar
From the beautiful flowers
Using God’s dower.
When the bee flied over the field
Alas, it couldn’t see the caterpillar
That crept in the grass.
The caterpillar looked at the bee,
Looked at the sky with yearning,
It also wanted to fly,
Learning the world around
And not to creep on the ground.
Burning with passion, tearfully
The caterpillar said hopefully:
“I love you the bee.
I would agree to do anything
If only I could fly with you.
Don’t tell me adieu!
I haven’t any view from the ground
I just feel to be bound.”
The caterpillar was lost in tears.
Having enough sufferings during the day time
It has fallen into a deep sleep
As there was no more strength to weep.
But when it woke up in the morning chime
It thought it was still a dream time
As it could now fly into the sky,
It turned into a butterfly.
The same morning having seen the butterfly
The bee’s heart melted with joy.
Oh, boy! It was in love at first sight,
Together they would have a wonderful flight.
Now they are flying together
In the fields, in the woods, in the gardens
And their love hardens.
The flowers give them
Their sweet nectar to drink,
There is no troubles to think.
The fable, I’ve told above,
Doesn’t need a question: What is love?
Everyone understands it in his own way.
What else can I say?
This fable was written on the motif of an old French song 'L'Abeille et Papillon' (1956)
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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Like A Sun-Bird That İs Drunk With Nectar
Like a sun-bird that is drunk with nectar,
you visit my soul continually with buzzing wings
and hopeless my life echoes on like a shadow
of what at a time it has been, as without hope
but still you draw near in the bright morning
bringing a kind of joy like a flower blooming
in the sheer dry wasted desert in bright colours,
while the night flutters, your embrace me tenderly
while your breast firmly alive press into me,
with shadows visiting us like tranquil butterflies
and outside the rain is falling, sieving continually
with clouds of steam rising from the hot tar;
sun-bird sometimes you leave and are gone
and then there is only sheer silence everywhere.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Butterflies, Flowers, Romance
Multicolored monarch fly,
Flower to flower vie,
Tipples nectar,
While I play guitar
Flowers everyday,
For a buxom young lady,
You and I ready,
For a lusty romance
Kisses cheek to cheek,
The dame and I at the peak,
To pick on, pick
Yellow red daisies n’ garden
Flowers I seek,
Roses and candle stick,
Athirst to smooch and flick,
For sweet red lips
Flowers n’ tears, monarch departs,
You and I aren’t apart,
For true love had start,
Promises not to part
poem by Noel Horlanda
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Into it all the same.
At a distance, a flower is noted by its colour.
Once into it, the purpose of the colour is over.
Only the nectar of the flower matters.
Pleasure is drawn in churning to honey the nectar.
A wise man makes variety from his clay
rather than buying varying makes.
23.05.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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