
Whatever is in any way beautiful hath its source of beauty in itself, and is complete in itself; praise forms no part of it. So it is none the worse nor the better for being praised.
Marcus Aurelius in Meditations

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Anything in any way beautiful derives its beauty from itself and asks nothing beyond itself. Praise is no part of it, for nothing is made worse or better by praise.
quote by Marcus Aurelius

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Who Is God, That God Needs To Be Praised?
WHO IS GOD THAT GOD NEEDS TO BE PRAISED?
Who is God that God needs to be praised?
Who are we that we are worthy of praising God?
Isn’t this Praise a form of flattery?
And how can God possibly want or need it?
We may need to praise-
Out of Gratitude
We may need to thank God
For all our blessings,
But does God want us to be flatterers
Who think to be rewarded for our praise?
I need to thank God
In that need is the Praise
But Praise alone
Makes both God and me
Seem unworthy.
I thank God
For having given me
This Poem.
If it is a poem.
poem by Shalom Freedman

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Source Of Confort
God is a source of energy
God is a source of light
God is a source of love
God is a source of peace
God is a source of comfort
God is a source of hope
God is a source of freedom
God is a source of praise
poem by Aldo Kraas

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Astrophel And Stella-First Song
Doubt you to whom my Muse these notes intendeth,
Which now my breast o'ercharged to music lendeth?
To you, to you, all song of praise is due;
Only in you my song begins and endeth.
Who hath the eyes which marry state with pleasure?
Who keeps the key of Nature's chiefest treasure?
To you, to you, all song of praise is due;
Only for you the heaven forgat all measure.
Who hath the lips where wit in fairness reigneth?
Who womankind at once both decks and staineth?
To you, to you, all song of praise is due;
Only by you Cupid his crown maintaineth.
Who hath the feet whose step all sweetness planteth?
Who else, for whom Fame worthy trumpets wanteth?
To you, to you, all song of praise is due;
Only to you her sceptre Venus granteth.
Who hath the breast whose milk doth passions nourish?
Whose grace is such that when it chides doth cherish?
To you, to you, all song of praise is due;
Only through you the tree of life doth flourish.
Who hath the hand which without stroke subdueth?
Who long-dead beauty with increase reneweth?
To you, to you, all song of praise is due;
Only at you all envy hopeless rueth.
Who hath the hair which, loosest, fastest tieth?
Who makes a man live then glad when he dieth?
To you, to you, all song of praise is due;
Only of you the flatterer never lieth.
Who hath the voice which soul from senses sunders?
Whose force but yours the bolts of beauty thunders?
To you, to you, all song of praise is due;
Only with you not miracles are wonders.
Doubt you to whom my Muse these notes intendeth,
Which now my breast o'ercharged to music lendeth?
To you, to you, all song of praise is due;
Only in you my song begins and endeth.
poem by Philip Sidney

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Beautiful One
Oh beautiful one, adorned with spell
To ravage my world as might a sweet angel.
Oh beautiful thing, so much at ease:
Allure of caressing breeze in touch gentle.
Oh beautiful creature, sail me do,
As floating on seas of halcyon blue tincture.
You beautiful being, gracing charm
And features that render feel of deep texture.
Your beautiful poise in glide supreme,
Gives such like a vista honed as from heaven.
That beautiful art of face ornate,
Not ever to understate or be riven.
Your beautiful flame of pulchritude
Doth dizzy me high, so I conclude always
You beautiful girl forever be
My shining Janette; my guide; my stairway.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
All rights reserved
beauty beauty beauty beauty beauty beauty
beauty beauty beauty beauty beauty beauty
beauty beauty beauty beauty beauty beauty
beauty beauty beauty beauty beauty beauty beauty
beauty beauty beauty beauty beauty beauty beauty
poem by Mark R Slaughter

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Beauty, Beautious, Beautiful
Beauty is not a superficial form
Each has their own in essential nature
And in the actions they perform
Until the dissolution of their life
To leave beauty’s impressions in our hearts
Yesterdays beauty never leaves or departs.
Beauty is all around
Each and every place it may be found
As you look with open eyes
Upon the forms that nature makes
Then man seeks to imitate
Yearning to match that beauty all around.
Beauty if you cannot find
Beauty must be in mind
Beauty is in purity
Beauty of simplicity
Beauty runs right through and through
Beauty in me, and them, and you.
Beauty, beauteous, beautiful
Beauty in heaven
Beauty in fire
Beauty in earth
And finally beauty in a simple verse.
poem by David Taylor

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Prophecy Of The Children
it matters not
if I be youth
or if I be age
God hath said
all my children
will be beautiful
as God has said
so will it be
God cannot lie
Beautiful in God’s eyes
beautiful as God sees
as God beauty conceives
not beauty as impurity man sees
not in eyes of corporate man
not beauty as mammon man sees
and thus it came to pass
behold children born
beauty latent within heart
beauty destined to bequeath
beauty to enlighten
beauty passed on to God’s
future
faithful
children
Blessed Servants Be
Serve God Through Eternity
Oppose Evil In Perpetuity
poem by Terence George Craddock

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A Beautiful Flower
I have a flower, Yes I have picked a beautiful flower,
One with greatest strength like a tree with mightiness and power,
Power of faith beyond any measure,
Yet precious and few like a beautiful treasure.
How precious its love it shares,
How very precious sweet and rare.
Easily lost as colors are tossed on the tides,
For those who tend to set it aside.
Beauty beyond their eye’s is what I have gained as a prize,
And keeping it, is what makes my heart so wise.
It may seem like neglect on their part,
But neglect has not been the wish of their heart.
Why so often many are in a rush,
The beauty of this flower is often a hush.
I praise my flower for its humbleness,
Staying that way always brings forth its beautifulness.
Yes my flower that I have I would gladly share,
To those who appreciate my gift that is rare.
This flower is a gift and I will tell you why,
Because its known for its beauty that will never die.
For if my flower and me ever depart,
The beauty of it will always be found in my heart.
Yes I have a flower, a beautiful flower to name,
It would have to be beautiful,
it would have to meet its beauty inside and out the same.
For that isn’t hard to do, Why you don’t even need a clue,
For I could have never have picked a better you,
My Dear Friend (put name here)….. Its true.
A name, that’s beautiful as you.
poem by Esther Ayala

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About Beauty Queens
I had read a lot about beauty queens
When I was in my teens
Something was written in their praise
About life, struggle and long chase
I was amused to read about beauty
I could hardly see by her side any tree
Her pose in different angles
And all make up with forced smiles
I found nothing at that particular stage
I was small and had tender age
People used to laugh at my suggestions
As stupidly I was making some mention
There grew some anxiety with passing of an age
Life was explained as golden and beautiful cage
Some one was expected to take me by surprise
Only I had to be prepared for it with some good promises
It very first sight I observed her with beauty angle
She had nice dress with red face like an apple
I considered her as loveliest beauty on earth
I thought for a while and pledged to live with
I had complete universe within reach
No one was here to brief me or teach
I had waited for it very long
It was proving everything wrong
I dreamed about being with future girl
It was nice moment with happy turn
I can be seen with lovely and beautiful bride
I was going down with joy and unable to hide
Such nice things happen once in rare times
I may not be part of it sometimes
Beauty may be seen in every female aspirant
She can be made permanent partner if some one really long for or want
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal

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On The Number Three
Beauty rests not in one fix'd Place,
But seems to reign in every Face;
'Tis nothing sure, but Fancy then,
In various Forms bewitching Men;
Or is it Shape and Colour fram'd,
Proportion just, and woman nam'd?
If Fancy only rul'd in Love,
Why shou'd it then so strongly move?
Or why shou'd all that Look, agree
To own its mighty Pow'r in three?
In Three it shews a different Face,
Each shining with peculiar Grace;
Kindred a Native Likeness gives,
Which pleases, as in All it lives;
And where the Features disagree,
We praise the dear Variety.
Then Beauty surely ne'er was yet,
So much unlike it self and so complete.
poem by Thomas Parnell

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Beauty Finds Truth In Beauty
Beauty finds beauty in beauty,
Narrowness is barred there to peep,
Conventions’ scales, cry in Time’s ashes,
Incarnated Beauty disobeys spectacles,
The packed eye sights bar out cataracts.
Biased walls of collected customs, over ruled,
Stationed liberty executes the truth.
You artist get transferred into the truth,
Beauty flowers your garden mouth.
The forms with their identity’s names,
Are prism –dropped, rays of the source same.
You plasma monitors the reflection of the two,
‘Beauty is truth, truth beauty’, -save are you who?
poem by Ray Subrata Ray

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If Beauty Was Earned
If beauty was earned by caring,
you could not be more beautiful.
If beauty was earned by strength of spirit,
you could not be more beautiful.
If beauty was earned by generosity,
you could not be more beautiful.
If beauty was earned by quiet introspection,
you could not be more beautiful.
If beauty was earned by joy,
you could not be more beautiful.
If beauty was earned by unselfish love,
you could not be more beautiful.
If beauty was earned by the light behind your eyes,
you could not be more beautiful to me.
poem by Robert Hiers

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Architecture is the masterly, correct and magnificent play of masses brought together in light. Our eyes are made to see forms in light; light and shade reveal these forms; cubes, cones, spheres, cylinders or pyramids are the great primary forms which light reveals to advantage; the image of these is distinct and tangible within us without ambiguity. It is for this reason that these are beautiful forms, the most beautiful forms. Everybody is agreed to that, the child, the savage and the metaphysician.
Le Corbusier in Vers une architecture (1923)

Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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I Could Not Praise Myself
I COULD NOT PRAISE MYSELF
I could not praise myself
For all I had
Or had not done-
And when a few praised me
I felt unworthy-
Yet Praise I wanted
And Love more than Praise
And even more
For God to Care for
those I love.
poem by Shalom Freedman

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Farewell To The Poets And Poetesses Of Nature
Farewell to the poets and poetesses of Nature
Their beautiful rhymes are a gift of the heart
In literature they will always be remembered
For their promotion of Nature in which they played a huge part.
In their verses they captured some of the beauty of the Natural World
And their legacy in words is still with us today
In their poems one can visualize the wild birds singing
And in the warm Summer breeze get the sweet scent of hay.
Not all of them World famed or publicly acclaimed
Though a literary gem or two they created with us does remain
They played their own part in the promotion of Nature
And their likes perhaps we may not see again.
I love those old wordsmiths and their musical verses
They sung of the beauty around them they see
They had music in them their words so well written
With Nature they lived in complete harmony.
Farewell to the poets and poetesses of Nature
Their beautiful words do not have in them a use by date
To them we feel grateful for promoting Nature
And we thank them for the beauty that they did create.
poem by Francis Duggan

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Two Beautiful Butterflies
Both part of God's great Paradise,
I saw them gliding by...
God's two beautiful butterflies
Were there upon the sky...
And everywhere they flew around
Or stopped to have a rest,
The sight of them would quite astound
And folks would be impressed!
Of course, their beauty was ordained,
So folks would give God praise,
Because through beauty much is gained,
It's not a passing phase...
The Lord decided long ago
Each colour, tint and hue
And this is how we start to grow,
When we say, I love you...
And so, give thanks, when beauty's near,
Give thanks when beauty's far!
Each gem's meant to be crystal clear,
A scintillating star!
This world is full of fragrant things,
Like roses meant to please...
Yet none more beauteous than the wings
Of butterflies like these...
Denis Martindale, copyright, April 2011.
The Two Beautiful Butterflies poem is dedicated
to Cindy Humphrey and Gemma Smallpage.
poem by Denis Martindale

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Sonnet: Praise
Oh, praise me not in a limitless way;
O’er-praise puts mind in enshackled a sway,
Distorting its performance thereafter;
An o’er-enthused mind can’t function better.
The hard-earned, older virtues won o’er years,
In moments of flimsy praises by dears,
Feels weaken’d from its adverse/ill-effects;
Praises any human mind sure infects!
Praise me deservingly and nothing more;
Never praises in excessive measures pour;
It could inebriate my feeble mind,
Unless measured and properly refined.
’Tis better not to be praised if worthy,
Than be o’er-praised, ecstatic and guilty.
poem by John Celes

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Rose is beautiful
Rose is beautiful
Some love it for beauty
Some for fragnance
Some for as a flower
And a few others do
Discover something invisible to eye.
Where really beauty is
Where its source is
Or it is our eyes that see
Or our heart that feels
But when it fades
No fragnance no beauty remains
Questions left.
poem by Satyabrata Barik

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A beautiful thing called YOU
How to write about a beautiful piece of God’s writing
I mean what is there to edit?
Did God leave room for improvement
Oh I see, he did leave some for comment
And praise and Glory to value
A Beautiful thing called you
Unmatched in splendor
A beautiful thing named you
That only God` s description could equal the importance
A beautiful thing called you
That only the angelic can understand
A beautiful thing called you
Whose creation was inspired by the divine
A beautiful thing called you
That the universe handles with care
A beautiful thing called you
Whose shape was sculpted by His own word
A beautiful thing called you
How do I begin to describe it
Is it by letter
Oh I see holding it is better
How do I own it
To praise the glory and the value
A beautiful thing called you
Oh I see, God knows better
The value the Glory and the praise
No, He revealed it to me
But still I cant
Bear the praise the value and the glory
That flows from those eyes
The ear the nose and the belly
I looked through the key hole to see the sky
I saw heaven`s 1 2 3 stars shy
HE opened the door of your heart
Behold the millions that were hidden
Now I know
How to Praise the glory and the value of a beautiful thing called you.
poem by Didier Sixte Kahungu

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Roundel I
When you are come, joy is so all complete,
The heart leaps in my breast, beholding you,
O flower of beauty, O rose fresh and new,
Whose slave I am, whose servitude is sweet.
Lady of gracious ways, whom all men greet
Most beautiful of women and most true,
When you are come, joy is so all complete.
For you the happy festival shall meet
In glee ; with none else have I need to do
For my delight ; from you alone I drew
The life and joy that make my heart to beat,
When you are come, joy is so all complete.
poem by Christine de Pizan

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