Untimely Love
Peace, throbbing heart, nor let us shed one tear
O'er this late love's unseasonable glow;
Sweet as a violet blooming in the snow,
The posthumous offspring of the widowed year
That smells of March when all the world is sere,
And, while around the hurtling sea-winds blow--
Which twist the oak and lay the pine tree low--
Stands childlike in the storm and has no fear.
Poor helpless blossom orphaned of the sun,
How could it thus brave winter's rude estate?
Oh love, more helpless, why bloom so late,
Now that the flower-time of the year is done?
Since thy dear course must end when scarce begun,
Nipped by the cold touch of relentless fate.
poem by Mathilde Blind
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Related quotes
Spring Will Be A Little Late This Year
(f. loesser)
Spring will be a little late this year
A little late arriving, in my lonely world over here
For you have left me and where is our april love old
Yes you have left me and winter continues cold
As if to say that spring will be a little slow to start
A little slow reviving that music it made in my heart
Cause time heals all things, so I neednt cling to this fear
Its merely that spring will be a little late this year
Yes time heals all things so I neednt cling to this fear
Its merely that spring will be a little late this year
song performed by by Carly Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wintertime Love
Wintertime winds blow cold the season
Fallen in love, Im hopin to be
Wind is so cold, is that the reason?
Keeping you warm, your hands touching me
Come with me dance, my dear
Winters so cold this year
You are so warm
My wintertime love to be
Winter time winds blue and freezin
Comin from northern storms in the sea
Love has been lost, is that the reason?
Trying desperately to be free
Come with me dance, my dear
Winters so cold this year
And you are so warm
My wintertime love to be
La, la, la, la
Come with me dance, my dear
Winters so cold this year
You are so warm
My wintertime love to be
song performed by by Doors
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Elegy on the Death of a Child
Fair was thy blossom, tender flower,
That open'd like the rose in May,
Though nursed beneath the chilly shower
Of fell regret, for love's decay.
How oft thy mother heaved the sigh
O'er wreaths of honour early shorn,
Before thy sweet and guiltless eye
Had open'd on the dawn of morn!
How oft, above thy lowly bed,
When all in silence slumber'd low,
The fond and filial tear was shed,
Thou child of love, of shame, and woe!
Her wrong'd but gentle bosom burn'd
With joy thy opening bloom to see;
The only breast that o'er thee yearn'd;
The only heart that cared for thee.
Oft her young eye, with tear-drops bright,
Pleaded with Heaven for her sweet child,
When faded dreams of past delight
O'er recollection wander'd wild.
Fair was thy blossom, bonnie flower,
Fair as the softest wreaths of spring,
When late I saw thee seek the bower
In peace thy morning hymn to sing.
Thy little foot across the lawn
Scarce from the primrose press'd the dew;
I thought the spirit of the dawn
Before me to the greenwood flew.
E'en then the shaft was on the wing,
Thy spotless soul from earth to sever,
A tear of pity wet the string
That twang'd, and seal'd thy doom for ever.
I saw thee late, the emblem fair
Of beauty, innocence, and truth,
Start tiptoe on the verge of air,
'Twixt childhood and unstable youth;
But now I see thee stretch'd at rest:
To break that rest shall wake no morrow -
Pale as the grave-flower on thy breast!
Poor child of love, of shame, and sorrow!
May thy long sleep be sound and sweet;
Thy visions fraught with bliss to be;
And long the daisy, emblem meet,
Shall shed its earliest tear o'er thee!
poem by James Hogg
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Hulk
You are very beautiful my love and,
We are meant to be on this love;
And, your sweet scent of aroma baths me all year round.
I am Hulk and your flower of love is all that matters to me,
But, with the 63 degrees of euphoria to meet your love;
For, your sweet scent of aroma baths me all year round.
Deeper contractions in the kingdom of love,
And of the sensations ever felt before;
But, the angle of your elevation is to unfold your precious petals.
it is never too late to learn from you always,
So bring forth the beautiful bud out from you!
Form you are blossom fair flower of love.
Pleasure and satisfaction always comes from you my love,
And like the muse of your love which elevates your sexual wellness;
For, i am now sailing across the ocean blue like Oliver Twist.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Faery Songs
I.
Shed no tear! oh, shed no tear!
The flower will bloom another year.
Weep no more! oh, weep no more!
Young buds sleep in the root's white core.
Dry your eyes! oh, dry your eyes!
For I was taught in Paradise
To ease my breast of melodies,--
Shed no tear.
Overhead! look overhead!
'Mong the blossoms white and red--
Look up, look up! I flutter now
On this fresh pomegranate bough.
See me! 'tis this silvery bill
Ever cures the good man's ill.
Shed no tear! oh, shed no tear!
The flower will bloom another year.
Adieu, adieu -- I fly -- adieu!
I vanish in the heaven’s blue,--
Adieu, adieu!
II.
Ah! woe is me! poor silver-wing!
That I must chant thy lady's dirge,
And death to this fair haunt of spring,
Of melody, and streams of flowery verge,--
Poor silver-wing! ah! woe is me!
That I must see
These blossoms snow upon thy lady's pall!
Go, pretty page! and in her ear
Whisper that the hour is near!
Softly tell her not to fear
Such calm favonian burial!
Go, pretty page! and soothly tell,--
The blossoms hang by a melting spell,
And fall they must, ere a star wink thrice
Upon her closed eyes,
That now in vain are weeping their last tears,
At sweet life leaving, and these arbours green,--
Rich dowry from the Spirit of the Spheres,
Alas! poor Queen!
poem by John Keats
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Tout Pour L'Amour
The world may rage without,
Quiet is here;
Statesmen may toil and shout,
Cynics may sneer;
The great world,--let it go,--
June warmth be March's snow,
I care not,--be it so
Since I am here.
Time was when war's alarm
Called for a fear,
When sorrow's seeming harm
Hastened a tear.
Naught care I now what foe
Threatens, for scarce I know
How the year's seasons go
Since I am here.
This is my resting-place
Holy and dear,
Where pain's dejected face
May not appear;
This is the world to me,
Earth's woes I will not see,
But rest contentedly
Since I am here.
Is't your voice chiding, Love,
My mild career,
My meek abiding, Love,
Daily so near?--
'Danger and loss,' to me?
Ah, Sweet, I fear to see
No loss but loss of _thee_,
And I am here.
poem by Sophie Margaret Hensley
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Married to a Tree
I am married to a tree
Whose love is just as coarse
As thou, the bark
That stands still
While my bleeding heart
Doth dry up on your floors
I am married to a tree
Who sways to and fro carelessly
Who is helpless at the woes
Of the wind that causes much a storm
And leaves its menacing trail
For I am married to a tree
With grooves and dents
That frown with age
As I run my fingers down the seams
And am turned off by your despair
I am married to a tree
Whose love is just as damp
Like the leaves that blossom in spring
And die in the autumn, so sad
For I hope that winter will be forgiving
I am married to a tree
But the reason that I wait
Is for the birds that sing and chirp
And compliment the rays
For it is worth my time
I am married to a tree
As condemning as I may be
And selfish that I may seem
For I should commend thee
As you are as nurturing as she.
poem by Antoine La Najja
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Its Not Too Late
(david jones)
Immortal music (bmi)
Lead vocal: davy jones
If I had a penny for every time I thought about you
I would be a millionaire
I would send you flowers each day
And I would show you in every way
Just how much I really care
The summer sun and the winter snow,
The autumn leaves let the spring rains know
Just how much I need your love
And if I knew that my time was near,
And you were there,
I would have no fear
Your name would be my dying prayer
Its not too late
To turn this ship around
To sail into the wind my love
Before we run aground
Its not too late
To say that I love you
And its not too late for you, my love
To say you love me too
(its not too late)
If I was a rich mans son
I would work till the day was done
Just to prove my love was true
I would take you for my wife
And I would love you all my life
And I would never leave or be untrue
Its not too late
To turn this ship around
To sail into the wind my love
Before we run aground
Its not too late
To say that I love you
And its not too late for you, my love
To say you love me too
(its not too late)
You know our future and your feelings
And the love that I have for you
Theyre always in my heart and on my mind
A never ending love affair
Well go together everywhere
Our love will last till the end of time
You know our future and your feelings
And the love that I have for you
Theyre always in my heart, theyre on my mind
A never ending love affair
Well go together everywhere
Our love will last till the end of time
Its not too late
To turn this ship around
To sail into the wind my love
Before we run aground
Its not too late
To say that I love you
And its not too late for you, my love
To say you love me too
(its not too late)
Its not too late
To turn this ship around
To sail into the wind my love
Before we run aground
Its not too late
To say that I love you
And its not too late for you, my love
To say you love me too
(its not too late)
Its not too late (its not too late)
Its not too late (its not too late)
Its not too late to turn this ship around
song performed by by Monkees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Romance of Winter
It looks like snow, it must be snow, it really, really feels like snow,
It's on my lashes, and on my nose, it's frozen my poor little toe,
It came too soon, last too late, right now I cannot find my gate,
Inside now what a soppy state, this thawing out I really hate,
The fire it seems is getting low, it only adds more to my woe,
Outside it's cold with winters glow, as now the wind begins to blow.
On with boots, gloves, coat, and hat, out to the barn to feed the cat,
In this weather he won't get fat, but neither will he catch a rat.
The cows are full of milk today, the sheep have now begun to bay,
Chicks get corn, to cold to lay, the donkey's cross he wants his hay,
My husbands says it's no big deal, and checks the oven for his meal,
My coat and gloves I start to peel, where has he been thru this ordeal?
He loves the winter's charming feel, in an office warm... get real.
The snow for me has lost apeal, the charm has fled, from this deal.
Where is summer's warming sun, no more snow, I've had my fun,
Winter's romance has faded and run, now all I want is to be done.
But it looks like snow, it feels like snow,
Oh poo, it really is more snow...
poem by Teresa Dearing
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In This Time Of The Year
My heart is in yearn
Memories are coming near
My longing and my yearn
In this time of the year
In this time of the year
All those who were dear
Still are living here
Even their voices still I can hear
In this time of the year
Sentiments melted with tear
Inside my heart love emotions gathered with fear
Ah in this time of the year
I can feel so neat
Compassion for everything
for everyone increased a beat
I can see the realities so clear
What's and who's Lear
In this time of the year
we are standing here
Out of the time we are in fear
Hearts are tired war's pain hard to bear
In this time of the year
Ah aches are in heat
Sorrows melted with my heart's beat.
The clock on the wall has stopped before millions of years.
poem by Sossi Khachadourian
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Season of Love
Winter sky so dark with stars so bright
brings a glow of sheer delight.
Diamond's woven into a cloak of navy blue
the scene is set for all things new.
Romance and love flourish at this time of year
winter magic dispels all doubt and fear.
Time to walk and cuddle in the park
all secrets hidden in the dark.
Winter winds stir passions deep within
can love really be a mortal sin.
Kindred spirits search and find
Needing to be with their own kind
Cold frost brings a need to touch
wanting love so very much
Virgin snow casts its magic spell
nature knows us so very well
Stark contrast shows trees laid bare
bringing out our need to care
The season of love is upon us now
to resist we don't know how
Time to rest in a lovers arms
bewitched by mother nature's charms
This very special enchanting season
give's true love its rhyme and reason
So let us give thanks for this special time
with a toast to winter of sweet red wine
poem by Veronica Black
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If Every Day Could Be Christmas
If every day could be Christmas
What a wonderful world it would be
We could carry this feeling within us
All through the year
If everyday could be Christmas
Christmas lights up the city
Roof tops covered in snow
Lover's sharing a slay ride cuddled close
And their eyes seem to glow
Window shopping on Main Street
Bundled up head to toe
The childeren ice-skating around the tree
I see smiles young and old
If every day could be Christmas
What a wonderful world it would be
We could carry this feeling within us
All through the year
If everyday could be Christmas
All through the year
If everyday could be Christmas
Church bells ring in the distance
Peace on earth fills the air
Side-walk Santa's handing out candy-canes
I feel love everywhere (everywhere)
If everyday could be Christmas
What a wonderful world it would be
We could carry this feeling within us
All through the year
If everyday could be Christmas
All through the year
If everyday could be Christmas
It's the time
we open up and give from the heart
Let love shine baby this time
If every day could be Christmas
What a wonderful world it would be
We could carry this feeling within us
All through the year
If everyday could be Christmas
All through the year
If everyday could be Christmas
If every day could be Christmas
What a wonderful world it would be
We could carry this feeling within us
All through the year
If everyday could be Christmas
If everyday could be Christmas
song performed by by 98 Degrees from This Christmas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Helpless
There is a town in north ontario
Dream comfort memory despair
And in my mind I still need a place to hide
All my changes were there
Blue blue windows behind the stars
Yellow moon on the rise
Big birds flying across the skies
Casting shadows in our eyes
Leave us helpless helpless helpless helpless
Helpless helpless they leave me now
Helpless helpless helpless
Blue blue windows behind the stars
Yellow moon on the rise
They leave us
Helpless helpless helpless helpless
Helpless helpless they leave me now
Helpless helpless helpless
Helpless helpless helpless helpless
Helpless helpless they leave me now
(neil young)
Copyright warner/chappell
song performed by by Nazareth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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God's Christmas Tree
The traveler told me,
That He had walked far.
And He knew,
He had not much father to go,
Than He asked me,
Did I see the Christmas tree,
With a bright star,
covered in blankets of snow,
Fighting for life,
against nature and man's war.
Needing to find peace for the soul,
Touched by a angel's tear.
Standing alone out in the cold.
Once there was a little Christmas tree,
Adorned with a heavenly star,
Covered with soft blankets of snow,
every year,
The little tree would grow.
Sometime someone would come along.
Leaving footprints in the falling snow,
When they are far from home,
Somewhere out in the cold.
They could see the star on the tree,
Covered with soft blankets of snow.
The little Christmas tree seems to glow.
Decorated By God's hand.
A gift for every man.
A soft light,
in the dark night,
Offering peace for the soul.
See God's Christmas tree,
Adorned with a heavenly star,
A reminder of love,
A star from above,
For the world to see.
God's Christmas tree.
He didn't choose the tallest.
tree in the forest.
He saw that little tree stand alone.
A place where the soul can rest,
While the traveler walks home.
Did you see?
God's Christmas tree.
poem by Judy Arline Puckett
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Winter's Winsome Weather
Crisp Winter, final season of the year,
Comes suddenly when awesome Autumn's past
The frost makes Winter mornings bright and clear,
But fosters Winter's biting icey blasts.
But Winter's winsomeness is also there,
The snow which hides the scars of furrowed ground,
The frost that sparkles on the hedgerows bare,
The snow that muffles harsh intrusive sound.
Ah! Winter, time of joy and peace and cheer,
Of carols chant and chimes of Christmas Bells,
The promise of 'The love that casts out fear',
The pleasure of sweet spicey Yuletide smells.
Remind us after Winter comes the Spring
When all things bright and beautiful will sing!
(John Knight - September 2009) .
Is Winter your favourite Season? If it is please post a comment saying why. In the UK we have many many parties and presents and holidays celebrating Christmas and New Year, This is to compensate for many cold and drizzly days. Despite Global Warming we stll get some snow in the North and especially Scotland where we have popular Ski Resorts. Winter in the Northern USA and Canada and Scandinavia and Russia is awesome and a great opportunity for Winter Sports and Apre-ski! People whose Birthday is on Christmas Day (DECEMBER 25) are doubly blessed because they are allowed a separate celebration on JUNE 25 in the following year. I have used capital letters for the Seasons in this poem because I think they are worth it. It is no longer de rigeur in the UK. John Knight.
poem by John Knight
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The Beautiful Camellias
The camellias bloom in Winter when the skies are cold and gray
When the sun shines at it's weakest and the Spring seems far away
Each tree an individual by the shade of flowers they bear
An avenue of camellias of one shade of flowers more often than not rare.
In shades of pink and creams and reds the colours one might name
Each is an individual for no two look the same
The beautiful camellias resplendent in their flowers
They bloom in lawn and garden on Winter's coldest hours.
In late fall in Victoria in the Southern Hemisphere
The flower buds on camellia tell Winter days are near
And before the wattles come to bloom towards the end of July
The flowers on the camellia tree lose their petals and die.
The beautiful camellias bloom in the cold winter showers
And long before the southern spring they will have lost their flowers
And on June's coldest and wettest day great beauty I can see
A mass of pink flowers blooming on the green camellia tree.
poem by Francis Duggan
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It Is You I Dream Of
a flower grows from beneath a blanket
of fine and purest white
it reaches toward the sun for warmth
for heat and for the light
my love for you grows stronger still
despite the surrounding cold
my heart is yours, bartered gone
for yours has it been sold
its petals shine from morning dew
its stem grows stiff and strong
it stands strong through the freezing cold
it stands the winter long
i long for you, for your soft touch
i miss the way you smile
the longer that we stay apart
the longer every mile
the flower stretches through the snow
it reaches toward the sun
and now without you the color is gone
the flower's petals, done
but as we talk, and as we learn
the flower comes back to life
the snow now melts and goes away
as you take away my strife
spring is here and growth abounds
as you and i are one
we are together, we are in love
the snow for now is done
i see the future, in dreams i have
of our life, long and true
i see the times where all i need
are comforting words from you
i see the times when winter comes
as winter tends to do
but we still love, and we still live
and i do still love you
trudy lynn gordon
poem by Trudy Gordon
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A Song of Autumn
‘WHERE shall we go for our garlands glad
At the falling of the year,
When the burnt-up banks are yellow and sad,
When the boughs are yellow and sere?
Where are the old ones that once we had,
And when are the new ones near?
What shall we do for our garlands glad
At the falling of the year?’
‘Child! can I tell where the garlands go?
Can I say where the lost leaves veer
On the brown-burnt banks, when the wild winds blow,
When they drift through the dead-wood drear?
Girl! when the garlands of next year glow,
You may gather again, my dear—
But I go where the last year’s lost leaves go
At the falling of the year.’
poem by Adam Lindsay Gordon
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Many Are Called
Many are called, dear heart, to happiness,
But few are chosen, even for a wild short year.
Love calls us from our sleep, and we make stress
To rise and greet him in a world austere
With a sweet dawn, while blithe as chanticleer
He carols his brave message, and we loosen
The shutters of our grief to find him near.
Many are called by Love, but few are chosen.
Love's voice is truth. He speaks his messages
In tones we dare not doubt, and we give ear
As to a prophet of our wilderness,
The glorious lord of a new hemisphere.
And we run, we too, glorious, without fear,
Like children on bright ice too thinly frozen,
Gay to our doom. Ah me! The plunge was sheer.
Many are called by Love, but few are chosen.
Love chooses whom he will to ban or bless.
My fate was a wild shepherd's on the drear
Plains of wan hope, whose one--time shepherdess
Was lost even in the winning, and whose cheer
Has since been of the yellow leaf and sere,
(Scorned is the rose--tree Time finds no last rose on)
And silence claims him and the end is near.
Many are called by Love, but few are chosen.
Queen of my life! I do not love you less
Because you choose not me to cast your woes on.
It is enough for me you once said ``Yes.''
Many are called by Love, but few are chosen.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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The New-Year Babe
Two together, Babe and Year,
At the midnight chime,
Through the darkness drifted here
To the coast of Time.
Two together, Babe and Year,
Over night and day,
Crossed the desert Winter drear
To the land of May.
On together, Babe and Year
Swift to Summer passed.
'Rest a moment, Brother dear,'
Said the Babe at last.
'Nay, but onward,' answered Year,
'We must farther go,
Through the Vale of Autumn sere
To the Mount of Snow.'
Toiling upward, Babe and Year
Climbed the frozen height.
'We may rest together here,
Brother Babe,-Good-night!'
Then together Babe and Year
Slept; but ere the dawn,
Vanishing, I know not where,
Brother Year was gone!
poem by John Bannister Tabb
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