En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Female Fashions for 1799

A form, as any taper, fine ;
A head like half-pint bason ;
Where golden cords, and bands entwine,
As rich as fleece of JASON.

A pair of shoulders strong and wide,
Like country clown enlisting ;
Bare arms long dangling by the side,
And shoes of ragged listing !

Cravats like towels, thick and broad,
Long tippets made of bear-skin,
Muffs that a RUSSIAN might applaud,
And rouge to spoil a fair skin.

Long petticoats to hide the feet,
Silk hose with clocks of scarlet ;
A load of perfume, sick'ning sweet,
Bought of PARISIAN VARLET.

A bush of hair, the brow to shade,
Sometimes the eyes to cover ;
A necklace that might be display'd
By OTAHEITEAN lover !

A bowl of straw to deck the head,
Like porringer unmeaning ;
A bunch of POPPIES flaming red,
With motly ribands streaming.

Bare ears on either side the head,
Like wood-wild savage SATYR ;
Tinted with deep vermilion red,
To shame the blush of nature.

Red elbows, gauzy gloves, that add
An icy cov'ring merely ;
A wadded coat, the shape to pad,
Like Dutch-women -- or nearly.

Such is CAPRICE ! but, lovely kind !
Oh ! let each mental feature
Proclaim the labour of the mind,
And leave your charms to NATURE.

poem by Mary Darby Robinson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Bear and the Hare

The bear is always bare. I have never seen a bear who was not bare. Or does he or she wear a coat of hair? Where does he or she go to buy a coat of hair so that he or she won't be a bare bear? Coats cost money. Bare bears have no money.

But bears eat honey. Even bare bears eat honey. And this bear had a honey who wanted a coat of hair. So when she said to her honey, 'Honey, I want a coat of hair, but I have no money.', her honey replied, 'Honey, I have no money to buy a coat of hair. But I do have honey. Maybe I can sell my honey for money.' So he sold his honey for money so that his honey could have some money to buy a coat of hair and not be a bare bear.

This bear had a friend who was a hare. This hare has hair. Is he bare? He is not a bare bear but a hare and hares have hair. But he is a funny bunny and likes a sunny spot even when it is hot because he like to have fun in the sun. But this funny bunny could not find a sunny spot to go to have fun in the sun until one day a fair came to town.

The bear and hare of course went to the fair. What a pair! The fair was quite far so the bare bear and the hare with the hair decided to ride the street car. To ride the street car, they had to pay a fare. I say that was quite an affair - to see the bare bear and the hair paying for their fare. The bare bear had no pockets in which to carry any fare. The funny bunny had no honey to sell to get some money to pay the fare so that he could go to the fair. The fare cost ten cents. But that makes no sense. It isn't fair to make a bear who is bare and has no pockets to hold a fare or a funny bunny who has no honey to get money to pay a fare to go to the fair.

Subsequently, the bare bear barely got on the street car after the funny bunny hopped on, the bare bear and the hair were there sitting in chairs riding in the street car to the fair without paying any fare. Along the way they saw a mare. They did not care about the mare. They wanted to get to the fair. Have you every seen a bare bear sitting in a chair? I once saw a bare bear sitting in a chair at a fair but he wasn't bare.

To get into the fair the bare bear and the hair had to pay another fare. And still the bare bear had no money to pay any fare to get into the fair. And the funny bunny had no money to pay any fare to get into the fair. So what did they do? How did they get into the fair? As I said, I saw the bare bear sitting in a chair at the fair but he wasn't bare.

Tell me if this is a poem. Thanks.

poem by Ben Gieske
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lethe

NOR skin nor hide nor fleece
Shall cover you,
Nor curtain of crimson nor fine
Shelter of cedar-wood be over you,
Nor the fir-tree
Nor the pine.

Nor sight of whin nor gorse
Nor river-yew,
Nor fragrance of flowering bush,
Nor wailing of reed-bird to waken you,
Nor of linnet,
Nor of thrush.

Nor word nor touch nor sight
Of lover, you
Shall long through the night but for this:
The roll of the full tide to cover you
Without question,
Without kiss.

poem by Hilda Doolittle
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Rasputin

There lived a certain man in russia long ago
He was big and strong, in his eyes a flaming glow
Most people looked at him with terror and with fear
But to moscow chicks he was such a lovely dear
He could preach the Bible like a preacher
Full of ecstacy and fire
But he also was the kind of teacher
Women would desire
Ra ra rasputin
Lover of the russian queen
There was a cat that really was gone
Ra ra rasputin
Russias greatest love machine
It was a shame how he carried on
He ruled the russian land and never mind the czar
But the kasachok he danced really wunderbar
In all affairs of state he was the man to please
But he was real great when he had a girl to squeeze
For the queen he was no wheeler dealer
Though shed heard the things hed done
She believed he was a holy healer
Who would heal her son
Ra ra rasputin
Lover of the russian queen
There was a cat that really was gone
Ra ra rasputin
Russias greatest love machine
It was a shame how he carried on
(spoken:)
But when his drinking and lusting and his hunger
For power became known to more and more people,
The demands to do something about this outrageous
Man became louder and louder.
This mans just got to go! declared his enemies
But the ladies begged dont you try to do it, please
No doubt this rasputin had lots of hidden charms
Though he was a brute they just fell into his arms
Then one night some men of higher standing
Set a trap, theyre not to blame
Come to visit us they kept demanding
And he really came
Ra ra rasputin
Lover of the russian queen
They put some poison into his wine
Ra ra rasputin
Russias greatest love machine
He drank it all and he said I feel fine
Ra ra rasputin
Lover of the russian queen
They didnt quit, they wanted his head
Ra ra rasputin
Russias greatest love machine
And so they shot him till he was dead
(spoken:) oh, those russians...

song performed by by Boney M.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Jason And The Argonauts

(Andy Partridge)
There may be no golden fleece,
But human riches I'll release
Oh, my head is spinning like the world and it's filled with beasts I've seen,
Let me put my bag down and I'll tell you it all right from the start,
Like the scarlet woman who would pick on the boys she thought were green,
And the two faced man who made a hobby of breaking his wife's heart.
Seems the more I travel,
From the foam to gravel,
As the nets unravel,
All exotic fish I find like Jason and the Argonauts
There may be no golden fleece,
But human riches I'll release
I was in a land where men force women to hide their facial features,
And here in the west it's just the same but they're using make-up veils.
I've seen acts of every shade of terrible crime from man-like creatures,
And I've had the breath of liars blowing me off course in my sails.
Seems the more I travel,
From the foam to gravel,
As the nets unravel,
All exotic fish I find like Jason and the Argonauts
There may be no golden fleece,
But human riches I'll release.
I have watched the manimals go by
Buying shoes, buying sweets, buying knives.
I have watched the manimals and cried
Buying time, buying ends to other peoples lives.
Jason and the Argonauts
There may be no golden fleece,
But human riches I'll release.
Jason and the Argonauts
There may be no golden fleece,
But human riches I'll release.

song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Jason & The Argonauts

(andy partridge)
There may be no golden fleece,
But human riches Ill release
Oh, my head is spinning like the world and its filled with beasts Ive seen,
Let me put my bag down and Ill tell you it all right from the start,
Like the scarlet woman who would pick on the boys she thought were green,
And the two faced man who made a hobby of breaking his wifes heart.
Seems the more I travel,
From the foam to gravel,
As the nets unravel,
All exotic fish I find like jason and the argonauts
There may be no golden fleece,
But human riches Ill release
I was in a land where men force women to hide their facial features,
And here in the west its just the same but theyre using make-up veils.
Ive seen acts of every shade of terrible crime from man-like creatures,
And Ive had the breath of liars blowing me off course in my sails.
Seems the more I travel,
From the foam to gravel,
As the nets unravel,
All exotic fish I find like jason and the argonauts
There may be no golden fleece,
But human riches Ill release.
I have watched the manimals go by
Buying shoes, buying sweets, buying knives.
I have watched the manimals and cried
Buying time, buying ends to other peoples lives.
Jason and the argonauts
There may be no golden fleece,
But human riches Ill release.
Jason and the argonauts
There may be no golden fleece,
But human riches Ill release.

song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Jason & The Argonauts

(andy partridge)
There may be no golden fleece,
But human riches Ill release
Oh, my head is spinning like the world and its filled with beasts Ive seen,
Let me put my bag down and Ill tell you it all right from the start,
Like the scarlet woman who would pick on the boys she thought were green,
And the two faced man who made a hobby of breaking his wifes heart.
Seems the more I travel,
From the foam to gravel,
As the nets unravel,
All exotic fish I find like jason and the argonauts
There may be no golden fleece,
But human riches Ill release
I was in a land where men force women to hide their facial features,
And here in the west its just the same but theyre using make-up veils.
Ive seen acts of every shade of terrible crime from man-like creatures,
And Ive had the breath of liars blowing me off course in my sails.
Seems the more I travel,
From the foam to gravel,
As the nets unravel,
All exotic fish I find like jason and the argonauts
There may be no golden fleece,
But human riches Ill release.
I have watched the manimals go by
Buying shoes, buying sweets, buying knives.
I have watched the manimals and cried
Buying time, buying ends to other peoples lives.
Jason and the argonauts
There may be no golden fleece,
But human riches Ill release.
Jason and the argonauts
There may be no golden fleece,
But human riches Ill release.

song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Four Woman

My skin is black
My arms are long
My hair is woolly
My back is strong
Strong enough to take the pain
inflicted again and again
What do they call me
My name is AUNT SARAH
My name is Aunt Sarah
My skin is yellow
My hair is long
Between two worlds
I do belong
My father was rich and white
He forced my mother late one night
What do they call me
My name is SAFFRONIA
My name is Saffronia
My skin is tan
My hair is fine
My hips invite you
my mouth like wine
Whose little girl am I?
Anyone who has money to buy
What do they call me
My name is SWEET THING
My name is Sweet Thing
My skin is brown
my manner is tough
I'll kill the first mother I see
my life has been too rough
I'm awfully bitter these days
because my parents were slaves
What do they call me
My name is PEACHES

song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Shower

Water flowing down his black-haired head like the Greeks'
Streaming past his dark eyebrows and his deep eyes
Down his sharp nose and past his smooth cheeks
Dripping down his lush lips, past the mouth's rise

Water flowing down his strong jaws and steady chin
Streaming past his thick neck into the collar bones it trips
Down his biceps and sculptured arms that cause a din
Dripping down his hands and delicate fingertips

Water flowing down his broad shoulders
Streaming past his chest and slender warm back
Down his muscled stomach and thighs, hard as boulders
Dripping down his knees to his calves, which can bare a whack

Water flowing down his ankles to his firm feet
Creating a pool of pure liquid on the ground
Down his hard body, the water so sweet
The liquid dripping around him, so profound!

poem by Monalno Kim
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love Wish

I wish you were with me tonight,
My room lit up by candlelight,
I’d look at you from toe to head,
Your hair a a-glow, a fiery red,

I’d hold you gently in my arms,
To clear your mind of any qualms,
I’d whisper slowly in your ear,
To tell that you need not fear,

I’d run my fingers through your hair,
Then down your cheeks, your skin so fair,
I’d kiss you on your lips so sweet,
A kiss to sweep you off your feet,

I’d take you in my arms once more,
And pray you’d stay forever more,
To always have you by my side,
Would be, to me, the greatest pride.

poem by Arik Fletcher
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A Christmas Carol

THREE DAMSELS in the queen’s chamber,
The queen’s mouth was most fair;
She spake a word of God’s mother
As the combs went in her hair.
Mary that is of might,
Bring us to thy Son’s sight.

They held the gold combs out from her,
A span’s length off her head;
She sang this song of God’s mother
And of her bearing-bed.
Mary most full of grace,
Bring us to thy Son’s face.

When she sat at Joseph’s hand,
She looked against her side;
And either way from the short silk band
Her girdle was all wried.
Mary that all good may,
Bring us to thy Son’s way.

Mary had three women for her bed,
The twain were maidens clean;
The first of them had white and red,
The third had riven green.
Mary that is so sweet,
Bring us to thy Son’s feet.

She had three women for her hair,
Two were gloved soft and shod;
The third had feet and fingers bare,
She was the likest God.
Mary that wieldeth land,
Bring us to thy Son’s hand.

She had three women for her ease,
The twain were good women:
The first two were the two Maries,
The third was Magdalen.
Mary that perfect is,
Bring us to thy Son’s kiss.

Joseph had three workmen in his stall,
To serve him well upon;
The first of them were Peter and Paul,
The third of them was John.
Mary, God’s handmaiden,
Bring us to thy Son’s ken.

“If your child be none other man’s,
But if it be very mine,
The bedstead shall be gold two spans,
The bedfoot silver fine.”
Mary that made God mirth,
Bring us to thy Son’s birth.

“If the child be some other man’s,
And if it be none of mine,
The manger shall be straw two spans,
Betwixen kine and kine.”
Mary that made sin cease,
Bring us to thy Son’s peace.

Christ was born upon this wise,
It fell on such a night,
Neither with sounds of psalteries,
Nor with fire for light.
Mary that is God’s spouse,
Bring us to thy Son’s house.

The star came out upon the east
With a great sound and sweet:
Kings gave gold to make him feast
And myrrh for him to eat.
Mary, of thy sweet mood,
Bring us to thy Son’s good.

He had two handmaids at his head,
One handmaid at his feet;
The twain of them were fair and red,
The third one was right sweet.
Mary that is most wise,
Bring us to thy Son’s eyes. Amen.

poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Four Women

Nina simone
My skin is black
My arms are long
My hair is wooly
My back is strong
Strong enough to take the pain
Its been inflicted again and again
What do they call me
My name is aunt sarah
My name is aunt sarah
My skin is yellow
My hair is long
Between two worlds
I do belong
My father was rich and white
He forced my mother late one night
What do they call me
My name is siffronia
My name is siffronia
My skin is tan
My hairs alright, its fine
My hips invite you
And my lips are like wine
Whose little girl am i?
Well yours if you have some money to buy
What do they call me
My name is sweet thing
My name is sweet thing
My skin is brown
And my manner is tough
Ill kill the first mother I see
Cos my life has been too rough
Im awfully bitter these days
Because my parents were slaves
What do they call me
My
Name
Is
Peaches

song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Asses

'I KNOW where I'd get
An ass that would do,
If I had the money
A pound or two.'

Said a ragged man
To my uncle one day;
He got the money
And went on his way.

And after that time
In market or fair
I'd look at the asses
That might be there.

And wonder what kind
Of an ass would do
For a ragged man
With a pound or two.

O the black and roan horses the street would fill,
Their manes and tails streaming, and they standing still,

And their owners, the men of estate, would be there,
Refusing gold guineas for a colt or a mare.

And one, maybe, riding up and down like a squire
So that buyers from Dublin might see and admire

The hunter or racer come to be sold
And be willing and ready to pay out their gold.

With men slouching beside them and buyers not near
It's no wonder the asses held down head and ear.

They had been sold or in by-ways bought
For a few half-crowns tied up in a knot,

And no one so poor as to buy one might come
To that fair that had horses so well prized at home!

And then it fell out
That at Arva or Scrabbey,
At some down-county fair,
Or Mohill or Abbey,

On two asses I happened
Without duress or dole
They were there in the market,
A dam and her foal.

And the owner, a woman,
Did not slouch or stand,
But in her cart sitting
Was as grand as the grand;

Like a queen out of Connacht
From her toe to her tip,
Like proud Crania Uaile
On the deck of her ship.

And her hair 'twas a mane:
The blackberries growing
Out of the hedge-rows
Have the sheen it was showing,

There kind was with kind
Like the flowers in the grasses
If the owner was fine,
As fine were her asses.

White, white was the mother
As a dusty white road;
Black on back and on shoulders
The cross-marking showed.

She was tall she could carry
A youth stout of limb,
Or bear down from her mountain
The bride decked for him!

Such was the mother
The foal's hide was brown,
All fleecy and curly,
And soft like bog-down;

And it nuzzled its mother,
Its head to her knee,
And blue were its eyes
Like the pools of the sea!

Then I thought all the silver
My uncle could draw
Might not pay for the creatures
That that day I saw;

And I thought that old Damer,
Who had troughs made of gold,
Could not pay for the asses,
The young and the old.

And I think of them still
When I see on the roads
Asses unyoked,
And asses with loads;

One running and trotting,
With harness loose,
And a man striking and hitting
Where his stick has use;

And one with a hide
Like a patched-on sack
And two creels of turf
Upon its back;

And one in the market,
Meek and brown,
Its head to the cart-shafts
That are down;

Eating its forage
A wisp of hay;
In the dust of the highway
Munching away;

Unmarked in the market
As might be a mouse
Behind a low stool
In a quiet house

Then I think of the pair
Horses might not surpass
The dam and her foal,
The white ass and brown ass.

poem by Padraic Colum
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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As I ventured to the Wood

As I ventured to the wood,
I stopped to draw on dewy air; let
Droplets shimmer in my hair, that
Rested on my tranquil head – as
In a sense of cosy bed.

As I ventured to the wood,
A gesturing cuckoo perched above,
And then in song with cooing dove,
‘You're welcome’, bade he, ’Enter please
To roam our land with gentle breeze.’

As I ventured to the wood,
A fallow deer of limpid eye
Gave care to glance at lucky I.
The heavenly aura 'bout her glow had
Charmed me, like a fine Bordeaux.

As I ventured to the wood,
A dazzling flower waved her face
In blazing show of dance and chase, and
Reddened bright in shade of dawn, she
Flirted like a prancing fawn.

As I ventured to the wood,
A butterfly had graced my arm,
And knowing I bid him no harm, he
Splayed for me hypnotic wing in
Colours for to urge me sing!

As I ventured to the wood,
The radiant sun shone down on me.
He flushed and beamed ‘I say to thee,
You bless your land; be filled with pride, and
Cherish e’er yon countryside! ’

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
All rights reserved

Nature, nature, Nature, nature, Nature, nature,
Nature, nature, Nature, nature,
Nature, nature, Nature, nature, Nature, nature,
Nature, nature, Nature, nature,
Nature, nature, Nature, nature,
Nature, nature, Nature, nature,
Nature, nature, Nature, nature,
Nature, nature, Nature, nature, Nature, nature,
Nature, nature, Nature, nature,
Nature, nature, Nature, nature, Nature, nature,

poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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True Womanhood As Picasso Sculpture Defines

her head is a vessel wisdom
her waist slender supple life
her arms strong circle continuity
her hips wide birth bares all cultures
her dress patterns all ethnic communities
her hair is styled in rank embryo changes
her perceptions embrace all earth seasons
her determination sees possibilities solutions

her eyes wide open see with wisdom realities
her shoulders bare burdens sisterhood shared
her nose is long aquiline to perceive social necessity
her nostrils smell troubles brewing wise calms
her smile is gift embracing universal life circles
her nature true womanhood as Picasso sculpture defines

poem by Terence George Craddock
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Indie Hair

I had a job washin dishes in a sink
It made me rich, but in a different kind of way
I could cut my hair, but it costs too much
So Ill buy my own clippers, darlin, and d.i.y. this bush!
Her last temptation was to grab that beggin bowl
Her belly was empty, but her mind was full
Can you see it?
Would you go?
I could cut your hair, but it costs too much
So Ill but my own clippers, darlin, and d.i.y. this bush!
Is it your body?
Do you really want to do this?
Of course
Alright
Would you go with me anywhere? hummm...
I cant sing, I cant bring this peace without you here...
They say he left his home with only five strands...
Are you okay? youve got your head in my hands...
Would you go with me?
Could you sing a song?
Ive bought my own clippers, darlin
It wont be long
Were going to india to sit with angels
Were going to india to sit with devils
Were going to india to sit with angels
Were going to india to sit with devils

song performed by by Live
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Summertime In England

Can you meet me in the country
In the summertime in england
Will you meet me?
Will you meet me in the country
In the summertime in england
Will you meet me?
Well go riding up to kendal in the country
In the summertime in england.
Did you ever hear about
Did you ever hear about
Did you ever hear about
Wordsworth and coleridge, baby?
Did you ever hear about wordsworth and coleridge?
They were smokin up in kendal
By the lakeside
Can you meet me in the country in the long grass
In the summertime in england
Will you meet me
With your red robe dangling all around your body
With your red robe dangling all around your body
Will you meet me
Did you ever hear about . . .
William blake
T. s. eliot
In the summer
In the countryside
They were smokin
Summertime in england
Wont you meet me down bristol
Meet me along by bristol
Well go ridin down
Down by avalon
Down by avalon
Down by avalon
In the countryside in england
With your red robe danglin all around your body free
Let your red robe go.
Goin ridin down by avalon
Would you meet me in the country
In the summertime in england
Would you meet me?
In the church of st. john . . .
Down by avalon . . . .
Holy magnet
Give you attraction
Yea, I was attracted to you.
Your coat was old, ragged and worn
And you wore it down through the ages
Ah, the sufferin did show in your eyes as we spoke
And the gospel music
The voice of mahalia jackson came through the ether
Oh my common one with the coat so old
And the light in the head
Said, daddy, dont stroke me
Call me the common one.
I said, oh, common one, my illuminated one.
Oh my high in the art of sufferin one.
Take a walk with me
Take a walk with me down by avalon
Oh, my common one with the coat so old
And the light in her head.
And the sufferin so fine
Take a walk with me down by avalon
And I will show you
It aint why, why, why
It just is.
Would you meet me in the country
Can you meet me in the long grass
In the country in the summertime
Can you meet me in the long grass
Wait a minute
With your red robe . . .
Danglin all around your body.
Yeats and lady gregory corresponded . . .
And james joyce wrote streams of consciousness books . . .
T.s. eliot chose england . . .
T.s. eliot joined the ministry . . .
Did you ever hear about . . .
Wordsworth and coleridge?
Smokin up in kendal
They were smokin by the lakeside . . .
Let your red robe go . . .
Let your red robe dangle in the countryside in england
Well go ridin down by avalon
In the country
In the summertime
With you by my side
Let your red robe go . . .
Youll be happy dancin . . .
Let your red robe go . . .
Wont you meet me down by avalon
In the summertime in england
In the church of st. john . . .
Did you ever hear about jesus walkin
Jesus walkin down by avalon?
Can you feel the light in england?
Can you feel the light in england?
Oh, my common one with the light in her head
And the coat so old
And the sufferin so fine
Take a walk with me
Oh, my common one,
Oh, my illuminated one
Down by avalon . . .
Oh, my common one . . .
Oh, my storytime one
Oh, my treasury in the sunset
Take a walk with me
And I will show you
It aint why . . .
It just is . . .
Oh, my common one
With the light in the head
And the coat so old
Oh, my high in the art of sufferin one . . .
Oh, my common one
Take a walk with me
Down by avalon
And I will show you
It aint why . . .
It just is.
Oh, my common one with the light in her head
And the coat so fine
And the sufferin so high . . .
All right now.
Oh, my common one . . .
It aint why . . .
It just is . . .
Thats all
Thats all there is about it.
It just is.
Can you feel the light?
I want to go to church and say.
In your soul . . .
Aint it high?
Oh, my common one
Oh, my storytime one
Oh, my high in the art of sufferin one
Put your head on my shoulder . . .
And you listen to the silence.
Can you feel the silence?

song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Same coin

I wondered and gazed through window
Nature’s wonder appeared in the form of rainbow
Countless thoughts just crossed the mind
How many wonders one can see and find?

Rain just stopped making sky so deep and dark
Calm prevail at night with solitary dog’s bark
What a lovely scene one could see and rejoice?
Bow head in respect with speechless voice

Slowly emerges the disappearance of dark soon
Silver rays come out with glitter from the face of moon
Seems it is beautiful lady waiting for somebody
One can easily notice anxiety with movement of body

Lovely beauty reflecting in her nightwear
Nature too reflects glory and simply bear
Stars too shine with smile and little twinkle
Wind blows slowly making little sound and smile

Such coincidence rarely be seen or exist
Invitation from beautiful lady remains and insists
Acceptance of love and simple recognition
Not providing excuses for any ignition

Nature may not remain cruel for long
Emergence of day light with sweet song
One can’t remain aloof and go wrong
We got to be a part and go along

Nature never deserts or leaves you alone
With calm weather or powerful cyclone
Beauty and nature two represent same side
Affection, kind heart and spectrum so wide

We can’t be indifferent to nature and beauty
Respect and preference should always be our duty
It is no secret that beauty and nature move together
One should not think unnecessarily and bother

poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To A Beautiful Child On Her Birthday With A Wreath Of Flowers

Whilst others give thee wond’rous toys,
Or jewels rich and rare,
I bring but flowers—more meet are they
For one so young and fair.

’Tis not because that snowy brow
Might with the lily vie,
Or violet match the starry glance
Of that dark, lustrous eye;

Nor yet because a brighter blush
E’en rose leaf never wore,
But ’tis that in their leaves lies hid
A rare and mystic lore.

And with its aid I now shall form
A wreath of flow’rets wild—
Graceful, and full of meaning sweet,
To deck thy brow, fair child!

The primrose, first, the emblem fit
Of budding, early youth;
The daisy in whose leaves we read
Pure innocence and truth.

The rosebud, sign of youthful charms,
We well may give to thee,
And with it join the sweet frail leaves
Of the shrinking sensitive tree.

And, tribute to thy modesty,
The violet emblem meet,—
Itself concealing, yet on all
Shedding its perfume sweet.

And for thy kind and gentle heart
We bring the jessamine,
To twine with ivy, ever green—
True friendship’s sacred sign.

Thy wreath is formed—of blossoms bright
I’ve twined each link, and, yet,
Another flower I still must add,
The fragrant mignonnette,

Which says “However great the charms
That to thy lot may fall
Thy qualities of heart and mind
By far surpass them all.”

Aye, be it thus, and ever may
This lovely wreath, as now—
Emblem of every precious gift—
Be fit to deck thy brow.

But, last and dearest, ’mid the buds
Of that bright varied lot
Must ever be, my gentle child,
The sweet forget-me-not!

poem by Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The First Meeting Of Radha And Krishna

Krishna went playing in the lanes of Braj,
a yellow silk garment round his waist,
holding a top and a string to spin it with,
a crown of peacock-feathers adorning his head
his ears with charming ear-rings decked,
his teeth flashing brighter than the sun's rays,
his limbs anointed with sandalwood-paste.

On the Yamuna bank he chanced to see Radha;
a tika mark of turmeric on her brow,
dressed in a flowing skirt and blue blouse,
her lovely long wreathed hair dangling behind,
a stripling, fair, of beauty unsurpassed
with he a bevy of fair milkmaids:

Krishna's eyes met her's;
love woke in his heart,
says Suradasa, bewitched by her,
he gazed and gazed.

poem by Sant Surdas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Theif

I don't want to understand this horror
There's a weight in your eyes I can't admit
Everybody ends up here in bottles
But the name tag's the last thing you wanted
As the world explodes we fall out of it
And we can't let go because this
Will not go away
There's a house built out in space...
I can't see that thief that lives inside of your head
But I can be some courage at the side of your bed
I don't know what's happening and I can't pretend
But I can be your....
Someone help us understand who ordered
This disgusting arrangement with time and the end
I don't want to hear who walked on water
'Cause the hallways are empty, clocks tick
As the world implodes we fall into it
And we can't go home because this
Will not go away
There's a house built out in space...
I can't see that thief that lives inside of your head
But I can be some courage at the side of your bed
I don't know what's happening and I can't pretend
It's a long long getaway, it's a long long getaway
Make it home again, make it home again
It's a long long getaway, it's a long long getaway
I can't see that thief that lives inside of your head
But I can be some courage at the side of your bed
I don't know what's happening and I can't pretend
But I can be your....
And I can be your.....
It's a long long getaway

song performed by by Our Lady Peace
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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