Frozen With Flowers (Revision)
Sitting among flowers burning with joy
of life - even the small purple ones have
yellow hearts, orange flowers seem warm
Yet it feels as if they are frozen as I sit in
the cold, then the dream - an Ice Princess
sitting atop a glass mountain
They're her only reminders of the real world,
a heroine and a prince will not come, for
all eternity the Princess sits among frozen
Beauty of long ago with ice-covered flowers
from when she still believed an inner world
of love could be realised by wishing for it
They are frozen tokens to keep her company,
she is happy, the ardent longing to find ideals
and fight for them have also been
Frozen with flowers...
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Related quotes
Ice-Cold Preservation [REVISED]
PRESERVATION
Life is a marathon, not a short sprint,
spiritualists teach cold hearts are only
frozen in this universe without room for
high ideals & unconditional love chosen
when humanity dreamed noble ideals
Ice-cold life is preservation, has frozen
resolve to stay ethically true to dreams;
almost no amount of heat can melt
feelings frosted within us when we
were small
But joy is ice-covered only, underneath
is warmth & love, we're NOT made of
stone, by retaining an icy state we can
strive to live with integrity, try to be
true to our words
Though frozen we've the best intentions
which shall be realised at a future date -
in existence of a different sphere
[ORIGINAL: ]
ICE-COLD PRESERVATION
I see life as a marathon, not a short sprint,
spirituals teach cold hearts are only frozen
in this universe without room for the high
ideals and unconditional love chosen when
humanity dreamed of noble ideals
Being ice-cold is preservation, life requires
an ice-cold resolve to remain true to ideals
and dreams; almost no amount of heat can
melt the feelings frosted within us
when we were small
But our joy is only frozen, underneath all is
warmth and love, we are NOT made of stone,
by remaining in the frozen state we can strive
to live with integrity, trying to be true
to our words
Though frozen, we have the best of intentions
which shall be realised at a future date - in
a different sphere of existence
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Raven Black
flowers etched in glass
their bloom immortalized,
their frangrance a frozen promise
never tested hence never broken....
flowers etched in glass
their couplets monogamous prophets
suspended in impotent fidelity
never lured hence never wavered
flowers etched in glass
paragons of worth
my reflection amidst them
human, tarnished, raven black
poem by Wardha Jawdat
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As Soon As The Frozen Snow Melts To Go
Frozen is the snow.
Melting it will go,
Away...
When Spring begins again.
And flowers bright will bloom.
And I...
Want to be that one,
To share...
This Spring that comes with you.
Walking like we'll do...
With a budding we'll get to know,
As soon as the frozen snow...
Melts to go.
And flowers bright will bloom to gow...
With a budding we'll get to know,
As soon as the frozen snow...
Melts to go.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Autumn Thoughts
Gone hath the Spring, with all its flowers,
And gone the Summer's pomp and show,
And Autumn, in his leafless bowers,
Is waiting for the Winter's snow.
I said to Earth, so cold and gray,
'An emblem of myself thou art.'
'Not so,' the Earth did seem to say,
'For Spring shall warm my frozen heart.'
I soothe my wintry sleep with dreams
Of warmer sun and softer rain,
And wait to hear the sound of streams
And songs of merry birds again.
But thou, from whom the Spring hath gone,
For whom the flowers no longer blow,
Who standest blighted and forlorn,
Like Autumn waiting for the snow;
No hope is thine of sunnier hours,
Thy Winter shall no more depart;
No Spring revive thy wasted flowers,
Nor Summer warm thy frozen heart.
poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
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When it will be spring
see flowers on my window
Cold winds whipping about
Soon I think
Wolves will begin to howl
When will it be spring?
Frozen days
When nature stands statue still
Cold hands, cold feet, cold heart
When will it be spring?
Haven’t heard a bird sing
The sun shines through a frozen haze
Sad days, cold days
When will it be spring?
poem by Jaya Ghosh
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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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Winter Flowers
Winter flowers bloom
Like light shining through dark
Growing in untouchable desolation
Icicles hang
Glinting in the morning light
Frozen decorations
Coming each year
Chilling nights
Below a silver moon
The restless howls
Of a spiteful wind
With frozen beauty everywhere
Yet looking forward to spring
poem by Autumn Winds
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Flowers
(orbison/dees)
When I was a boy I ran among the flowers
Looking left and right at the bright array
I played through the spring, whiled away the hours
Lingered with the flowers every day
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, lifes bouquet
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, along the way
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, lifes bouquet
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, along the way
When the summer ends and the storms of life are over
When the winter comes and the petals fall away
They may write it on my stone, he was just a roller
But he stopped to pick some flowers along the way
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, lifes bouquet
Flowers, picked some flowers, along the way
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Mayflowers
Sad Mayflower! watched by winter stars,
And nursed by winter gales,
With petals of the sleeted spars,
And leaves of frozen sails!
What had she in those dreary hours,
Within her ice-rimmed bay,
In common with the wild-wood flowers,
The first sweet smiles of May?
Yet, 'God be praised!' the Pilgrim said,
Who saw the blossoms peer
Above the brown leaves, dry and dead,
'Behold our Mayflower here!'
'God wills it: here our rest shall be,
Our years of wandering o'er;
For us the Mayflower of the sea
Shall spread her sails no more.'
O sacred flowers of faith and hope,
As sweetly now as then
Ye bloom on many a birchen slope,
In many a pine-dark glen.
Behind the sea-wall's rugged length,
Unchanged, your leaves unfold,
Like love behind the manly strength
Of the brave hearts of old.
So live the fathers in their sons,
Their sturdy faith be ours,
And ours the love that overruns
Its rocky strength with flowers!
The Pilgrim's wild and wintry day
Its shadow round us draws;
The Mayflower of his stormy bay,
Our Freedom's struggling cause.
But warmer suns erelong shall bring
To life the frozen sod;
And through dead leaves of hope shall spring
Afresh the flowers of God!
poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
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Frozen Love
My icy eyes with frozen tears can see thou,
In icy lands with frozen grass thou live,
When icy sky and frozen stars hide the true
And icy love has frozen thrills to give.
But icy love cannot become eternal
And frozen thrills may disappear in time,
When eyes that dream the true are so infernal
And sky may tear sweet dreams, which are sublime.
When the icy tears will reach my prayer's goal,
In old lands with cruel love instead of true
And grass will grow in vernal, so frozen souls,
The stars will start to shine in unique hue.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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Lovely flowers
Clour clour
Flowers on
The world...
With out fly
Sitting on the trees
And plants...
Clours flowers
Fly...
Some time air
Fly the flowers
Are making lovely earth...
Flowers are lovely...?
Lovely are flowers..!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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A Unique Melody
The flowers work beautifully, small yellow
ones forming the background for a soft purple
touch, the golden leaves and orange-yellow
explosions on the right, calming my eye
Green bottles a perfect accompaniment to
the little colour symphony being played by
my lovely flowers, the tune soothing, the
sweet piccolo notes in yellow on the left
The noble purple violin, Violetta singing in
La Traviata, the contrabass and wooden
instruments on the right, no deep notes,
no disharmony, helping me concentrate
Looking up terms without anxiety, even got
coffee illegally, happily working on the list
of terms for a construction project, flowers
keeping me company - a unique melody
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Sestina: Here in Katmandu
We have climbed the mountain.
There's nothing more to do.
It is terrible to come down
To the valley
Where, amidst many flowers,
One thinks of snow,
As formerly, amidst snow,
Climbing the mountain,
One thought of flowers,
Tremulous, ruddy with dew,
In the valley.
One caught their scent coming down.
It is difficult to adjust, once down,
To the absense of snow.
Clear days, from the valley,
One looks up at the mountain.
What else is there to do?
Prayer wheels, flowers!
Let the flowers
Fade, the prayer wheels run down.
What have they to do
With us who have stood atop the snow
Atop the mountain,
Flags seen from the valley?
It might be possible to live in the valley,
To bury oneself among flowers,
If one could forget the mountain,
How, never once looking down,
Stiff, blinded with snow,
One knew what to do.
Meanwhile it is not easy here in Katmandu,
Especially when to the valley
That wind which means snow
Elsewhere, but here means flowers,
Comes down,
As soon it must, from the mountain.
poem by Donald Justice
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Could The Spring Come Back Again
could the spring come back again or never
after we are accostumed to a harsh, white, frozen winter
the frozen sticks melted from the fringes
of the roofs
the hot rays of sun
are glitttering from the horizon
someone lit the light
somr sparrows and finches began to fly
on the yellow brown dog thistles
could the spring come back again
nobody knows how ı love my sisters
in their shields
protecting themselves
figthing with the harshness of life
defending themselves
walking like soldiers on roads
with big soldier bags on shoulders
prams fulll of children
some crying
some playing
some laughing
some sleeping in silence
could the spring come again
with her green leaves
multi color flowers
and singing birds
the little pretty girls
cladf in lovely dresses
may be twins
like lovely winter flowers
their mother in the midst
walking in the streets
telll me somebody
could spring come again
as in my young days
where and when
ı used to sing songs
poem by Metin Sahin
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Purple Flowers
Purple Flowers
To my Violette
Memory;
Of my mother.
Alive and laughing pretty,
putting flowers in a vase,
water for the roots.
Why mommy, why do you do that?
A little boy full of wonder___
life can be like that.
So I can save them and see them,
because I love you.
Picking purple flowers,
purple flowers in the rain,
purle flowers hide my pain.
You do love me dont you mother,
purple flowers,
stain.
Charles R Hice
Copyright ©2006 Charles Hice
poem by Charles Hice
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Frozen
Frozen
By: Adam M. Snow
Memories frozen and gone,
like sands in broken time,
'gainst the blackest of dawn,
yet cold with no love sublime.
To be alone in ice of despair,
with hearts cold and frozen.
There's nothing left to bear,
for all who are chosen.
Like frost in the wind,
chilling a lonely being,
leaving nothing to mend,
like a ghost without seeing.
Dreams now cold like ice,
falling to pieces,
not once but twice,
as the days decreases.
What else is there to know,
with everything oh so cool?
Like being ghost in the snow,
and you being the fool.
All's now cold like a winter's night,
like little breezes dusk and shiver,
and with unpleasant delight,
with fear all is quiver.
Staring now out a hoar frost window,
alone, cold and wilted,
with your sufferings and woe,
waiting to strike you dead.
All's now cold hearted,
like frozen in ice,
as all's departed,
and you're the sacrifice.
poem by Adam M. Snow
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Mother Russia
And in the east,
the birds called
louder to the Czar,
fiercely burdened after the long flight.
The whispers in the springtime,
brought warm incense sensations
sitting outside, frozen beneath the feet of winter,
destroying the wildlife, flowers fallen.
All was alive by day,
But shattered in the evening.
Awkward interactions, the
fishing man, the working blue collars
the lucky ones whose death was no longer myth.
poem by Sebastian JohnstonLindsay
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A Hundred Spells
Turandot, Puccini’s opera, told by stylised illustrations in a book
the heart of an Ice Princess frozen by the Moon Goddess, three
riddles posed to every Prince who wished to be her suitor on pain
of death if he could not get the answers right, beheaded by
imperial gesture of the shimmering beauty
Another Prince intrigued by the Princess, the first riddle: Every
night it soars anew, every day it dies - Hope, he replied; Illusion
said the Princess cold - the second riddle: Dream and the flame
flares anew - It is my blood that burns within with love for you,
answered the Prince - the third riddle: What is ice
that gives you fire - You cast a hundred spells - he sighed, The
answer is Turandot; he won the challenge, but would not marry
her against her will, set her one riddle - Say my name, made
her a gift of it to doom them both if she named him, then she
declared LOVE to be the stranger’s name
Chose to marry the strange Prince who by being brave and
generous won her respect; she despised all others but
feared him, cried her first tears - Conquer you or be
conquered – an enchanting Persian tale from A
Thousand and One Nights
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Visions of love...
In the warm crisp air of a lazy afternoon,
I drift off slowly into a sweet slumber.
Deafened by the silence around me,
Through the haze of time I glimpse you.
There you are, plain as day,
I stand there aghast, frozen in time.
I fight to move closer to you,
I try to run but I am frozen.
My heart so long has yearned for you,
To experience you but for a moment.
I could have had that moment in my dream,
I could have made you mine eternaly.
But fate has left me frozen and alone,
Silent, paralized, watching as you vanish.
As I awake my heart weeps in silence,
Visions of love bring hope to a barren heart...
Spread the love... The peace will follow...
poem by Cosmic Dreamer
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Snowdrops
They're to be seen across the north,
From frozen ground they will sprout forth,
Of nature we see a rebirth,
Seeds of life hid within the earth,
At last winter is to depart,
For the spring months are soon to start,
Flowers that are the most pure white,
Shall always be a pleasing sight,
Undeterred should there still be frost,
Flowers will open at all cost,
The snowdrop's beauty shines the most,
In a month that's a bitter host,
In woods darted about the place,
Bringing smiles to many a face,
For our countryside they do bless,
bringing about scenes that impress.
poem by Christian Lacdael
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