Frangipani! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
Leaves like half burnt toast,
Hang from the shrivelled branches
Of Frangipani.
Come monsoon showers;
It comes to life and flowers,
Savours in delight…
Seduced by sweet scent
Moths drawn by the fragrance, flock
At night for nectar.
Do they have a clue?
It’s fruitless search for nectar;
Trick up nature's sleeve,
To help pollinate
As moths flit over flowers;
Play designated role…
poem by Mamta Agarwal
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Related quotes
Be inner rich
O flowers! You can have colourful petals.
More than that must there be enough nectar.
Moths come to you expecting in you nectar.
Otherwise they stay with you no longer.
Women! Enrich your heart.
01.10.2000, Madras
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Shift of sex
Flowers are, in general, endowed with
Scent and nectar to woo bees and flies
For the ultimate goal of impregnation.
Then why do the Jasmine and the Rose,
Known for scent and nectar, fail,
In their courtship, to get impregnated?
Do they copy men and women,
Who want only sex and not its fruit?
18.11.2000
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Moths
The streetlight on the corner
in that cornered spot
has moths all around it
even though it's hot.
I see it from my window.
It flickers now and then.
The moths circle further away
but then they're back again.
What will those poor moths do
if that light goes out?
If I see it happen
I'll go outside and shout.
'Hey moths come over here.
I'll turn my porch light on.'
Then I can watch you circle once more
until the night is gone.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Life is nectar
Beginning is poison
End is nectar
No no
Beginning is nectar
Middle is nectar
End is also nectar
Whole things
Whole activities
Is only nectar
Enjoy the life
Life is not bitter
Life is nectar.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Flower, not the stalk
No matter what flower you are,
Or where from you spring,
If you have in you nectar,
In search of which will swarm the moths.
No matter what girl you are,
Or to what creed you belong,
If you are in prime youth
In search of which will throng men.
Whether white or chocolate,
A racehorse is delightful to watch.
Whether whitish or coalfish,
A curvaceous woman is catchy.
Youth and figure dropp one’s stalk.
06.12.2000, Plkmundi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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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
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Flowers
Do you not say
I’m omnipotent,
Omnipresent?
I created you,
Your family
And the nature
Around you.
Would I not be able to
Smell and see the flowers
That surround you?
Why pick them up in lots,
Pluck them off their
Lives, sew them with
Needles, and gift them
As garlands to an image
Of me: your temple deity.
What joy I get, tell me?
If I see my creations
Being ravaged by man’s
Ruthless hands. Like you,
They would love to live
A carefree life of freedom
And sunshine.
Why smother them
Prematurely, wither them
With your plucking fingers?
Don’t crush them to offer me
Pushpanjali.
Let them breathe in the
Breeze of the garden
Where they belong…
Let the bees savour their nectar.
Do not give me bouquets
Of dying flowers…
I’m just as happy
To see them
Blossom :)
In the branches of
The swinging trees.
Why make them bare and barren?
They look so naked without their
Adornments – the beautiful flowers
That drape them in beauty…
Listen to me, my dear devotee.
You happen to see me everywhere,
Don’t you?
You talk of my omnipresence,
So why don’t you see
That I don’t need
Flowers from thee
To please me.
They are there for nature to show us
How flowers look beautiful in their
Natural beauty…don’t pluck, please.
Won’t you heed me?
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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My Sorrow
As if my sorrow knows no bound
Its roots are deep in my heart’s ground.
Its branches are high up in the sky
Its fruits are sweet no one can defy.
Its leaves are green as if it won’t die
It’s like a rain tree so it can cry.
Its flowers have very sweet fragrance
It attracts people from a distance.
Its flowers are no doubt colorful
God trims it with His gardening tool.
poem by Asif Andalib
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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
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The Girls May Lose
The garden of fragrant flowers,
Saw her running towards, orders,
The buds to bloom and disperse,
The scent to her perfumed hair,
On smelling the new fragrance,
The butterflies escape from cocoons,
Assuming her face for a flower,
They swirl around her in trance,
To suck the sweet nectar,
Too afraid to face the intruders,
She runs away to have the shelter,
In the arms of a masked human, a spoiler,
Thinking of him as a rescuer,
Assuming him as a wonderful lover,
The girls may lose their peace for a favor,
the girls who hang out for fun,
may lose their peace to a con.
boys not carry the loads to remember,
but the girls carry to think and despair.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Honeysuckle
Mouth-watering Honeysuckle!
Your irresistible scent lures
Me to your tubular flowers
As you do the lone hummingbird
And moth and for the same reward:
To taste your abundant nectar.
Thousands of your golden flowers
Have quenched my springtime craving
For your flowery sweet liquid
Hidden deep within your dark spathe.
Once more I slowly extract your
Center stamen out through your scape
Dragging behind your small pistil
And the bead for my waiting tongue.
poem by Albert Ahearn
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Poison / Nectar
You have given me this poison
You have given me freedom
To eat or not to eat
And I have eaten
And the result is this life
And in this life I am in search of
Nectar that you have given me
And I am searching from the very
Beginning with equanimity to
Success or failure and See
I have got nectar in the early morning.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Wreath the Bowl
Wreath the bowl
With flowers of soul,
The brightest Wit can find us,
We'll take a flight
Towards heaven to-night,
And leave dull earth behind us.
Should Love amid
The wreaths be hid
That Joy, the enchanter, brings us,
No danger fear,
While wine is near --
We'll drown him if he stings us.
Then, wreath the bowl
With flowers of soul,
The brightest Wit can find us.
We'll take a flight
Towards heaven to-night,
And leave dull earth behind us.
'Twas nectar fed
Of old, 'tis said,
Their Junos, Joves, Apollos,
And man may brew
His nectar too,
The rich receipt's as follows:
Take wine like this,
Let looks of bliss
Around it well be blended,
Then bring Wit's beam
To warm the stream,
And there's your nectar, splendid!
So, wreath the bowl,
With flowers of soul,
The brightest Wit can find us,
We'll take a flight
Towards heaven to-night,
And leave dull earth behind us.
Say, why did Time
His glass sublime
Fill up with sands unsightly,
When wine, he knew,
Runs brisker through,
And sparkles far more brightly?
Oh, lend it us,
And, smiling thus,
The glass in two we'll sever,
Make pleasure glide
In double tide,
And fill both ends for ever!
Then, wreath the bowl
With flowers of soul
The brightest Wit can find us;
We'll take a flight
Towards heaven to-night,
And leave dull earth behind us.
poem by Thomas Moore
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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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Spring Poem
Fluffy yellow balls appear
near long thin leaves
signalling an Aussie Spring
bare branches show specks
of green - soon purple petals
will carpet my patio floor
orchid-like the humble
onion weed reveals it's
stubborn beauty
forest search for harden
bergia - purple creeper
where blue wrens flit
wonder why I'm drawn
to spikey leaf and wild
flowers Everlastings
poem by Frances Macaulay Forde
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Samuel Gardner
I who kept the greenhouse,
Lover of trees and flowers,
Oft in life saw this umbrageous elm,
Measuring its generous branches with my eye,
And listened to its rejoicing leaves
Lovingly patting each other
With sweet aeolian whispers.
And well they might:
For the roots had grown so wide and deep
That the soil of the hill could not withhold
Aught of its virtue, enriched by rain,
And warmed by the sun;
But yielded it all to the thrifty roots,
Through which it was drawn and whirled to the trunk,
And thence to the branches, and into the leaves,
Wherefrom the breeze took life and sang.
Now I, an under-tenant of the earth, can see
That the branches of a tree
Spread no wider than its roots.
And how shall the soul of a man
Be larger than the life he has lived?
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
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PSYCHE: Butterfly and Soul;
Laid on the underside of a leaf,
Early stage is egg;
Thriving to exist;
Hatching from the eggshell,
Consuming leaves as caterpillar,
Creepy, hungry larva is the second stage;
Accumulating needs with greed;
Hiding itself in a cover of time is pupa
Still and suspended is the third stage;
Buried in a tomb;
Emerging as a beautiful winged-fly Imago,
Butterfly is the fourth and final stage;
As soul gets liberated from all bonds;
Basking in the Sun, it sets to fly
Ready to feed on sweet nectar of flowers
Meanwhile pollinating them;
It can live from a week to a year
It plays an important role in nature
Finding its mate and the cycle repeats;
Fairy for the plants, Angel of joy to us
Colourful, joyful, beautiful flying creature
A tiny insect whose fluttering wings has impact,
On the occurence of tornado;
A butterfly represents the true spirit of life,
Rightly called Pysche for the final attainment,
Psyche, the love of Eros achieved immortality,
A butterfly portrays the journey of soul;
Reaching for the sky, feeding on nectar;
Is what mortals want as soul in Heaven.
poem by Manjeshwari P MYSORE
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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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Land of Love Vavroovahana Patra
Lord Jagannath is all creatures’ Deity;
Land of the shrine is a perennial Beauty.
Lake of peace quenches thirst of devotee;
Lotus smiles on the altar with delight.
Lily is fragrance pervades in the environment;
Ladies and gentlemen enchant with merriment.
Lovely God blessth devotees day and night;
Loving devotees chant God’s hymns with delight.
Long lasting love is a brook of nectar;
Liberal honest devotees drink love’s nectar.
Liberality reigns in the environment;
Lovers of God enchant with merriment.
Lam and lad pray for Divine Bliss;
Lord hears their prayers, fulfils wish.
Life of devotee becomes glories;
Lapping devotees the shrine is beauteous.
Lighting love’s candle devotees delight;
Life is surrendered on the feet of Almighty.
Lightening of love penetrates in devotees;
Listening God’s hymns devotees dance with delight.
poem by Vavroovahana Patra
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Dream Lover
The flowers outside my window
whose perfume scents the air
with a sweet sensation
as I lay on my bed.
They waft through the window
by a cool summer breeze
as I lay is soft perfusion
while around my light
moths begin to play.
My eyes are heavy
as sweet dreams call,
swirling around my head
while with my dream lover
my heart begins to fall.
The stars embedded in the night sky
like thousands of jewels
resting gently on black velvet.
I begin the dance with my dream lover
while moonbeams play around at our feet
as slowly in the darkness
I am captured by sleep.
6 September 2008
poem by David Harris
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