En.Citatepedia^®.ro

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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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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
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When the rain drops fall on my head...

When the rain drops fall on my head
Then I feel the greatness of the nature
When the heat on earth vaporized
Then the clouds above makes the rain

When the rain drops fall on my head
Then I see the farmers are full of cheers
When the rain water roll on the ground
Then all the barren lands turns to green

When the rain drops fall on my head
Then I see the rain water runs down the mountains
When the rain water preserved in the built dam
Then there is no poverty on the land

When the rain drops fall on my head
Then I know the God sends it for us
When we do not go against the nature
Then the rain drops fall on the earth for ever

poem by Ravi Sathasivam
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The Little Shy Grass Along Your Path

the little shy grass along the path
the one with thorns and hairy leaves

stepped upon by the hoofs of cows
and carabaos and goats and pigs

has taken the patience and courage
to grow three red flowers on its branch

as i see them bloom under the hot sun
the shy little grass has a word for you:

the three lovely red flowers are for you.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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 Place To Sit

Smoochers and snoggers, and resting joggers
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Ramblers and walkers, and street hawkers
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.

Mini’s and Roller’s, and lady strollers
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Old folk and young folk, and dogs with no folk
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.

Market traders and cavers, and money savers
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Children that play who meet everyday
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.

Students and teachers, and lay preachers
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Loose women and boys the ‘for sale’ toys
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.

Addicts and dealers, and police squealers
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Dogs out for a pee who can’t find a tree
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.

Drunks in the night who like to fight
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Spray painters and doodlers, and bench abusers
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.

Vandals and hooligans, and booted ruffians
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Demolishers and breakers, and obliterators
never stopped until they destroyed this concrete bench.

poem by Orlando Belo
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The Dumb Soldier

When the grass was closely mown,
Walking on the lawn alone,
In the turf a hole I found
And hid a soldier underground.

Spring and daisies came apace;
Grasses hid my hiding-place;
Grasses run like a green sea
O'er the lawn up to my knee.

Under grass alone he lies,
Looking up with leaden eyes,
Scarlet coat and pointed gun,
To the stars and to the sun.

When the grass is ripe like grain,
When the scythe is stoned again,
When the lawn is shaven clear,
Then my hole shall reappear.

I shall find him, never fear,
I shall find my grenadier;
But, for all that's gone and come,
I shall find my soldier dumb.

He has lived, a little thing,
In the grassy woods of spring;
Done, if he could tell me true,
Just as I should like to do.

He has seen the starry hours
And the springing of the flowers;
And the fairy things that pass
In the forests of the grass.

In the silence he has heard
Talking bee and ladybird,
And the butterfly has flown
O'er him as he lay alone.

Not a word will he disclose,
Not a word of all he knows.
I must lay him on the shelf,
And make up the tale myself.

poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
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Grass

The world is all one smother of grass,
Waves of it rolling deep and green,
Clothing the paddocks’ gentle slope,
Laughing the brown tree-trunks between.
And some are praising the brilliant flowers,
The beauty of foliage as they pass,
But I am drinking its glory in
And thanking the Lord for grass, for grass!

The air is a-murmur with rippling sound
From jubilant creeks long fed with rain,
Singing of drought and travail past
And a bounteous earth drown young again-
An earth that is telling its thankfulness
With passionate rapture too deep for words
In acres and acres of waving grass,
Haven of promise to starving herds.

There’s a tangle of bloom in its moist green shade,
Mottled yam-flowers and gentians blue,
Small white stars that are honey sweet,
And nodding bluebells all drenched with dew.
And oh! The breath of its incense rare
As the summer breezes over it pass,
My heart is thrilling with voiceless prayer
And thanking the Giver of things for grass.

poem by Alice Guerin Crist
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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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When the rain drops fall on my head......

When the rain drops fall on my head
Then I feel the greatness of the nature
When the heat on earth vaporized
Then the clouds above makes the rain

When the rain drops fall on my head
Then I see the farmers are full of cheers
When the rain water roll on the ground
Then all the barren lands turns to green

When the rain drops fall on my head
Then I see the rain water runs down the mountains
When the rain water preserved in the built dam
Then there is no poverty on the land

When the rain drops fall on my head
Then I know the God sends it for us
When we do not go against the nature
Then the rain drops fall on the earth for ever

Ravi Sathasivam / Sri Lanka

Copyright ©2004 Ravi Sathasivam

poem by Ravi Sathasivam
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As if everything is burning to black (in answer to Mongane Serote)

It’s a relentless hot summer
with sweltering days without rain
where the sun comes up day after day again
and the grass, the leaves are frizzled
trees stand erect like telephone poles
with stripped branches
like silhouettes against the sky

It’s a relentless hot summer
and not only nature knows the pain,
but there’s havoc in humanity,
with oppression surging hotter than the sun
and it feels as if this season
will never pass
as if everything is burning to black
and opportunities for a life will never be back.

[Reference: For Don M. – Banned by Mongane Serote.]

poem by Gert Strydom
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Gaia’s Plan

Please, don’t sweep the leaves away –
Their essence gives to life’s decay.

Never hack the flowers down –
Their colours bless the laughing clown.

Now why the mowing of the lawn?
The severed grass will lie forlorn.

Let our flora live undressed,
Or under Man, will toil repressed!

I, the tree of standing still –
Erect and proud, and stout of will,
Aglow with motley bark of earth –
Advance my roots for all they’re worth,
Internalising Nature’s bowels
To snag the devil, tweak his jowls
And pull his hairs from whence they grow!
I’ll destroy his pagan show
Of Homo sapiens’ disrespect!

The humble ape must reconnect
With Gaia’s plan!

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010

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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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A Summer's Rain

I am not afraid to say
That I love a summer's rain
To listen to the pitter-patter of rain drops
Splash lightly upon the window panes

I love to gaze out at the falling rain
To see the plants and flowers sparkle in the misty haze
That covers the water coloured scene before me
Each dropp of water shimmering where it lay

I love to see the sun during a summer's rain
Its glistening beams spreading out far and wide
Creating a prism of wonderful colours
To form a beautiful rainbow across the sky

I love the smell after a summer's rain
When everything in sight is wash'd anew
The world seeming a little brighter now
That the summer rain is through

poem by John A. Hancock
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Flowers In The Rain

Woke up one morning half asleep
With all my blankets in a heap
And yellow roses gathered all around me;
The time was still approaching four
I couldnt stand it anymore
Saw marigolds upon my eider down.
Im just sitting watching flowers in the rain
Feel the power of the rain making the garden grow,
Im just sitting watching flowers in the rain
Feel the power of the rain keeping me cool.
So I lay upon my side with all the windows opened wide
Couldnt pressurize my head from speaking
Hoping not to make a sound I pushed my bed into the grounds
In time to catch the sight that I was seeking.
Im just sitting watching flowers in the rain
Feel the power of the rain making the garden grow,
Im just sitting watching flowers in the rain
Feel the power of the rain keeping me cool.
If this perfect pleasure has the key
Then this is how it has to be
If my pillows getting wet
I dont see that it matters much to me.
I heard the flowers in the breeze make conversation with the trees
Believed to leave reality behind me
With my commitments in a mess my sleep has gone away depressed
In a world of fantasy youll find me.
Im just sitting watching flowers in the rain
Feel the power of the rain making the garden grow,
Im just sitting watching flowers in the rain
Feel the power of the rain keeping me cool.

song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Look Up The Sky

i look up
the sky finding you
to be a very bright star

and i ponder
if i down here
a pebble on the grass
silent and left alone
by my companion
if you still
remember me

for once i was once
a star too
shining beside you

it was love
that pulled me down
to earth
on the mud

and i pray
that it will be the same
love that died
shall pull me up
to redeem
my lost glory

but somehow
i like it here
beside a mound
where flowers grow
someone i love
is buried by
the thick grass
in silence

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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In Memory of a Child

I

The angels guide him now,
And watch his curly head,
And lead him in their games,
The little boy we led.

II

He cannot come to harm,
He knows more than we know,
His light is brighter far
Than daytime here below.

III

His path leads on and on,
Through pleasant lawns and flowers,
His brown eyes open wide
At grass more green than ours.

IV

With playmates like himself,
The shining boy will sing,
Exploring wondrous woods,
Sweet with eternal spring.

V

Yet, he is lost to us,
Far is his path of gold,
Far does the city seem,
Lonely our hearts and old.

poem by Vachel Lindsay
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A Butterflies Beauty

Butterfly with beautiful wings,
Glides through the summer
breeze,
As the sun shines upon the wings,
Fluttering oh so silently,
Colors of the rainbow begin to
show brightly,
Like the beautiful colors of
the flowers,
Butterflies blend in so perfect,
Making nature look pretty,
Unique patterns on every wing
has its beautiful story,
Just like nature has its own
story,
Where beauty never ends,
Butterflies will always blend in
with almost anything,
Blending in with flowers, grass,
even trees tall and small,
Including a rest on a fawns little
nose,
It is only to say hi and thank you,
for letting me rest my wings,
Now I must be on my way to enjoy
the summer breeze,
Soon it will be winter and I will
have to leave,
No worries I will return when the grass
is green and trees grow their leaves,
When rivers flow with the sunshine warmth,
Animals tall and small roam again from
slumber,
Flowers blossom beautifully,
that is how you know I will return
again,
Fluttering upon the spring and summer
breeze,
All my family will also return to fill
nature with colorful beauty.

poem by Derek James
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On To Something More Concrete

i

i check on the word 'grass'
not in the wikipedia
i check that word outside
i step on the lawn where grass is
i sit upon it and lay my head upon its softness
the grass is cool and comforting
early this morning

ii

i like to check on something more concrete
than what the word signifies
the puffiness of the clouds
the blueness of the skies
the coldness of water
the salt of the sea
how the waves travel and arrive at the shore

i lay my body on the sand
open my eyes to the sky and trace the paths that clouds travel by
i swim to the coldness of the sea and taste with my tongue its salt
i touch the waves
i wait upon the shore and let my hours pass away

iii

this is the earth where i live
where i step upon
it is real, it is never fake
it is as concrete as each word signifies

iv

i speak now to You
Let me thank You for all these
I am alive.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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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September Flowers

September wild flowers grow free
Purple, yellow, lavender, all beam joy
Fall is starting to turn the sumac
A walk can be such a wondrous trip

The air is crisp and vibrant
Touches of red show in the maples
Geese land in slews and ponds
Oaks seem so noble and strong

Hills filled with lush life
Songs of an autumn moon
Radiant sun brings azure blue
Birch and elm reach for love

Greens of summer still rule
This path has many wild flowers
The lake will soon freeze
Meadows will cover with snow

Rain has made everything vibrant
Moss and pine trees grow mellow
Mushrooms glow with sunlight
Soft breezes make the leaves dance

Blue birds gather on a fallen tree
Squirrels gather their acorns
Great Cottonwoods loom like giants
Old logs, field grass, daisies

I sigh amidst the September flowers

poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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