En.Citatepedia^®.ro

A ladybird in the grass! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !

Sitting by a forest brook
On the grass under a tree;
Just my little girl and me
I read to her from a book.

Suddenly she called from afar.
Ladybird, lady bird in the grass.
She picked and put it in her palms
And then carefully kept it in a jar.

While feeding it some grass
Looking puzzled she asked me:
How did it get its name nani?
Is it because its dainty she asked.

It does have wings, I said.
It’s just a colourful insect
Yet isn’t it so very perfect?
God has made it well dressed.

Perhaps that’s why the name.
Maybe it’s really no mistake.
She bit into her cup cake
And said it’s all the same.

Dear, God has eyes for details.
Whether it’s a creature big or small
You know, He loves them all.
She nodded and shook her pig tails.

Intrigued I searched the net.
Found myths and beliefs abound
Held in high esteem all-round.
By then Anika had named her pet.

poem by Mamta Agarwal
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In some fields of grass under the hills (sestina)

This afternoon the peaks throw a big shade
with the black cliffs shining up on the hills,
while we lay together in the long grass,
I look in your eyes that are amber-green
while under my head there is a small stone
and you smile at me like the prettiest lady.

I had once known another charming lady;
that part of my life is now left in shade,
bad churchmen were casting stone upon stone,
while I had to flee from them to the hills
to pastures were everything is green
to find the Lord in divine fields of grass.

Under your head there is a crown of grass
and your mother is a gracious, kind lady,
around us everything is lovely green
while we are still resting in the cool shade,
we are softly chatting about life’s hills,
about walls of very hard granite stone.

Your eyes are much brighter than emerald stone
while all of your words are softer than grass,
reaching higher and beyond all the hills,
the high mountain which is dangerous lady,
while from our pain nothing gives any shade,
nowhere is a place of rest that is green.

Your summer dress is lovely, is bright green,
suddenly all our ails have turned to stone
I follow you further; see your small shade,
I am seen as one that woos any lady,
we walk past some flowers growing in grass,
climbing up higher into the foothills.

Bright streams are splashing down some of the hills,
with water transparent, sometimes cold and green,
love and lust burns like in a youthful lady
while I at that moment feel cold as stone,
we notice a deer feeding on lone grass
while our garments lie under a tree’s shade.

Far into the hills you want love till dusk’s shade,
where you peep like some green moss from the grass,
are tossing me with a stone like no lady.

poem by Gert Strydom
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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
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A girl with curls...! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !

I don’t like my curly hair.
Everyday I say a prayer.

God, please make my hair straight.
I want to make two long plaits.

Do you think He hears my plea?
Oh, she asked innocently of me.

Dear, you look truly like an angel.
But they are always entangled.

Please, please pray for me.
I want hair like you, you see.

Do you think He really loves me?
Darling, He loves everyone you see.

Then why did he make my hair curly.
He loves you very, very dearly.

On hearing this she did a jig.
He must have a heart really big.

I just can’t love everyone.
That boy who teases me, for one.

Then she clapped and ran about.
Kicking the ball, scream and shout.

Forgot all about her curls.
How dainty is my little girl!

Of Anika, for Anika, my grand daughter

poem by Mamta Agarwal
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Ladybird

O ladybird
I have heard you wish to walk me through your garden
I crave your pardon if I woke you with my thinking
Ladybird
O ladybird
I have heard you wish to walk me through your meadow
Youll spread no wings to fly in fright if Im beside you
Ladybird
All through the winter time
When wood was warm and splintered
Time seemed longer than a goods train
Now that spring is back again Ill ask your name
Your name
O ladybird
I have heard you wish to walk across my pillow
No weeping willow was ever as beautiful, sad as you are
Ladybird
And as youre walking past
Im laying on the grass and making chains of thought
To snare you with my wit
But bit by bit you fade to gone
Gone
All through the iron season
Love was hanged and treason became
Something of a parlour game
Now sun is back in power Ill ask your name
Your name
O ladybird
I have heard you have to run to tend your children
No flood can drown nor fire blacken purest longing
For ladybird
Ladybird

song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Magic Lies In Silence Of Grass and In Your Voice

I am barefoot walking in the grass of morning,
The dew drops are comforting my feet,
I felt relieved by my stress and grief,
When i heard your voice in the grass rustling.

I lie down on grass and i could feel its silence,
I close my eyes and i enjoyed your voice,
The smell of grass was taken on the wings of wind,
Magic lies in silence of grass and in your voice.

Is amazing how much miracle stays in a blade of grass,
Opening my eyes i saw above the sky,
There was your face among the clouds smiling,
I had the feeling that i want to hug the sky.

I'm gonna miss you all the days of life,
And even when death will take my last breath,
Last thing i'll do passing to eternity,
I'm gonna miss you.

Winter will come, grass will fall asleep,
I 'll not hear the grass rustling anymore,
Only my memories with you will be always alive,
Rustling in my mind as grass did.

poem by Cristina Teodor
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Why Oh Why Did I Ever Leave Wyoming

The grass was green
The grass was tall
The cattle were fat
But the profit was small
So I decided to leave that fall.
My girl friend got wind of it
And she began to bawl
You see I left more than a girl friend
I left a pretty good spread
I left a horse named Don
And a dog named Ned
I had my own bunk house
I had my own bed
I never went to breakfast
Until my horse was fed.

poem by T.Wesley Steidley
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The Countryman Who Sought His Calf

A COUNTRYMAN, one day, his calf had lost,
And, seeking it, a neighbouring forest crossed;
The tallest tree that in the district grew,
He climbed to get a more extensive view.
Just then a lady with her lover came;
The place was pleasing, both to spark and dame;
Their mutual wishes, looks and eyes expressed,
And on the grass the lady was caressed.
At sights of charms, enchanting to the eyes,
The gay gallant exclaimed, with fond surprise:--
Ye gods, what striking beauties now I see!
No objects named; but spoke with anxious glee.
The clod, who, on the tree had mounted high,
And heard at ease the conversation nigh,
Now cried:--Good man! who see with such delight;
Pray tell me if my calf be in your sight?

poem by La Fontaine
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The Little Land

When at home alone I sit
And am very tired of it,
I have just to shut my eyes
To go sailing through the skies--
To go sailing far away
To the pleasant Land of Play;
To the fairy land afar
Where the Little People are;
Where the clover-tops are trees,
And the rain-pools are the seas,
And the leaves, like little ships,
Sail about on tiny trips;
And above the Daisy tree
Through the grasses,
High o'erhead the Bumble Bee
Hums and passes.

In that forest to and fro
I can wander, I can go;
See the spider and the fly,
And the ants go marching by,
Carrying parcels with their feet
Down the green and grassy street.
I can in the sorrel sit
Where the ladybird alit.
I can climb the jointed grass
And on high
See the greater swallows pass
In the sky,
And the round sun rolling by
Heeding no such things as I.

Through that forest I can pass
Till, as in a looking-glass,
Humming fly and daisy tree
And my tiny self I see,
Painted very clear and neat
On the rain-pool at my feet.
Should a leaflet come to land
Drifting near to where I stand,
Straight I'll board that tiny boat
Round the rain-pool sea to float.

Little thoughtful creatures sit
On the grassy coasts of it;
Little things with lovely eyes
See me sailing with surprise.
Some are clad in armour green--
(These have sure to battle been!)--
Some are pied with ev'ry hue,
Black and crimson, gold and blue;
Some have wings and swift are gone;--
But they all look kindly on.

When my eyes I once again
Open, and see all things plain:
High bare walls, great bare floor;
Great big knobs on drawer and door;
Great big people perched on chairs,
Stitching tucks and mending tears,
Each a hill that I could climb,
And talking nonsense all the time--
O dear me,
That I could be
A sailor on a the rain-pool sea,
A climber in the clover tree,
And just come back a sleepy-head,
Late at night to go to bed.

poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
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The Grass Smells Red

The grass smells red.
Untill these mortal bounds find thier way into the catostrophic fire's of love and redemption, the grass will smell red.
The grass tells a story of wars unsung and battles lost.
The grass tells a story of love gained and a fury found again.
The grass smells red...but does it speak?
Does it's voice ring out like the bells in a steeple?
Does it feel the pain of those who died?
Did it hear the screams?
The grass smells red and it grow's red.
It feels red.
This grass will die red.

poem by Troy Nichols
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There is nothing fantastic or ultradimansional about crab grass... unless you are an sf writer, in which case pretty soon you are viewing crab grass with suspicion. What are it's real motives And who sent it here in the first place It only looks like crab grass. That's what they want us to think it is. One day the crab grass suit will fall off and their true identity will be revealed. By then the Pentagon will be full of crab grass and it'll be too late. The crab grass, or what we took to be crab grass, will dictate terms.

quote by Philip K. Dick
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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And The Grass Won't Pay No Mind (Undubbed Master)

Listen easy, you can hear God calling
Walking barefoot by the stream
Come on to me, Your hair's softly falling
On my face as in a dream
And the time will be our time
And the grass won't pay no mind
Saying nothing, lying where the sun is
Baking down upon our sides
My lips touch you, with their soft wet kisses
Your hands gentle in reply
And the time will be our time
And the grass won't pay no mind
Child, touch my soul with your cries
And the music will know what we've found
I, hear a hundred good-byes
But today I hear only one sound
The moment we're living is now
Now now now now now now now
Young bird flying, and a soft wind blowing
Cools the sweat inside my palms
Close my eyes, hear the flowers growing
As you lay sleeping in my arms
And the time will be our time
And the grass won't pay no mind
No the grass won't pay no mind

song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Watching The Grass Grow

Incorrect perceptions,
Are imposed and projected...
By those with unchanged beliefs.
And fixed to satisfied stagnation.
Or impressions made,
Through assumptions placed
Upon imaginations.

Watching the grass grow,
May be someone's ambition.
In fact...
What is the scientific purpose for grass?
I don't think I've ever heard that asked.
Have you?

And minds like these are difficult to replace.
Since so many are deluded,
By that which does not exist.
But wished.

And observing this against a reality known...
As shown to be accepted by those conscious,
Becomes clear why there is much conflict of interest.
And a need for so many to forever play,
The cowboys against the indians.
The good against the bad.
And the ugly...?
Well,
We do all have our missions.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Tree, the Vine and the Grass

The tree said to the grass, Is it your contentment
To be just at my foot, remain under my shade
Why don't you do as I, my aims are very high
I want to reach the moon and the stars in the sky
With far reaching vision, I stand in dignity
Stand out for the rest of the forest to see

Oh yes, oh yes, my friend, said the vine to the grass
Why do you not aim high, just like the two of us
My stance is upright, reaching high altitudes
I can stand side by side with any tree I choose
Unlike you who remain earthbound without a choice

To you my friend, a tree, I do not want to be
equal to you in height, low I would rather be
For the law of nature, I clearly remember
You stand the higher, you will fall the harder
I do not aim for things I know I would not reach
Earthbound I chose to be, than fail in my attempts

To you my friend, a vine, here's what I have to say
Stand I won't if on borrowed stability
On the arms of a friend you just cling and depend
You cannot stand alone, own strength you do not have
When I pause to reckon and try to look around
In the world of humans, the likes of you abound
They cling to anyone who has money and might
As you cling to the tiniest twig or biggest branch
Wanting not to be low, not to be trampled at

Then a hurricane came with its wind blowing wild
It uprooted the vine, the tree fell to the ground
And there they lay in waste, under the sun they died
The grass is still there, flourishing and alive

poem by Pacific Hernandez
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In The Meadows At Mantua

But to have lain upon the grass
One perfect day, one perfect hour,
Beholding all things mortal pass
Into the quiet of green grass;

But to have lain and loved the sun,
Under the shadow of the trees,
To have been found in unison,
Once only, with the blessed sun;

Ah! in these flaring London nights,
Where midnight withers into morn,
How quiet a rebuke it writes
Across the sky of London nights!

Upon the grass at Mantua
These London nights were all forgot.
They wake for me again: but ah,
The meadow-grass at Mantua!

poem by Arthur Symons
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Food In Heaven

Food In Heaven
Food In Heaven



He made the cows to want the rain to fall he made the grass that they use to eat to fill the want inside a cow he makes grass as bread for cows they just continue there to graze in some places in the desert spaces there is grass for cows to eat this is called heaven sweet to cows they drink water when they have it in a drink flavored pouch oh no see eh ewe caught me making lies no listen while eye smile and tell ewe this poem is so nice there is grass for all the cows there is grass on every hill and every cow can eat in heaven they still have grass for every cow there is food in heaven there is food there in a drink flavored pouch.

poem by Charles Hice
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Grass

Laying on the grass my heart it flares like fire
The way you slap my face just fills me with desire
You play hard to get
cause youre teachers pet
But when the boats have gone
Well take a tumble excuse for a fumble
Shocked me too the things we used to do on grass
If you fancy we can buy an ice-cream cone
Your mate has gone she didnt want to be alone
I will pounce on you
Just us and the cuckoos
You are helpless now
Over and over we flatten the clover
Shocked me too the things we used to do on grass
It would shock you too the things we used to do on grass
Grass, grass.
Things we did on grass

song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Grass

Laying on the grass my heart it flares like fire
The way you slap my face just fills me with desire
You play hard to get
cause youre teachers pet
But when the boats have gone
Well take a tumble excuse for a fumble
Shocked me too the things we used to do on grass
If you fancy we can buy an ice-cream cone
Your mate has gone she didnt want to be alone
I will pounce on you
Just us and the cuckoos
You are helpless now
Over and over we flatten the clover
Shocked me too the things we used to do on grass
It would shock you too the things we used to do on grass
Grass, grass.
Things we did on grass

song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Before You

Supposing Death
to be a woman

what then?
She asked

would you embrace it
as willingly as you do me?

The afternoon sun
seemed to hang

in the sky
like a child's balloon

as you lay that day
in the tall grass

maybe
you said

if it had eyes
and a smile like yours

and she pulled
a stem of grass

and placed between lips
and stared above

as birds flew
to and fro

and would you go
willingly into the dark

as you do with me
into this tall grass?

You turned to face her
taking in

her blue eyes
and cheeks

maybe
if it allowed me

to kiss as good
as you do

and as long
and she turned over

took out
the stem of grass

and kissed your lips
welcome to Miss Death

she said
and you both laughed

and lay back
gazing at the summer sky

a deep blue
not knowing then

death would come for her
long before

it would ever
come for you.

poem by Terry Collett
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Simply grass....! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !

Grass is very pretty;
But it’s not simply grass,
Or just stuff of lawns.
If you go up and close,
You see a world
Of flowers, waiting
To be discovered.

Grass flowers keep a low profile;
Their colour, height not loud
To scream from far off…
But as I sit on grass
On a humid day, As Sun goes down
West in May,
Or at mid-noon in December
On an icy cold day;
Somehow they remind me
Of a six month old,
Who first learns to crawl
And raises his neck and turns
To make eye contact
With his mom.

The innocence writ large
On their face
Is their unique scent.
Although not effervescent;

Yet timid… by no means.
What if they grow under trees?
Or wherever they get
To assert themselves.
They deserve applause for
Holding their own
On frail stems.
They arrest my gaze,
And I feel more than certain
God is in small details.

poem by Mamta Agarwal
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My Drug Dealer

Today-
I asked myself.

Why are the oak tree’s purple?
And the grass blue?

Why is the sky green?
And the leaves hot pink?

Why is that gravel red?
And the rocks of that garden yellow?

Then I thought
and thought over again
a million times

and realized...

I’m high.

I’m up higher than the orange clouds in the green sky
My heart is as bright as the rocks of that garden

My thoughts are as eccentric as the hot pink color of the leaves
that fell from the purple tree

My eyelashes flutter flirtatiously like the way the wind
blows the blue blades of grass around.

Love is a drug,
and I’m high-

You happen to be my dealer.

poem by Breanna Schwartz
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