Related quotes: My friend the gardener who...

0013 Pink Without Think

My friend the gardener who manages
to combine romantic or ex-romantic
with realist and fine poet and
loving gardener and teacher
and much else, harmoniously,

points out to me that the pink geranium
swinging gently in its hanging basket
in the late September sun, with
an effusive burst of flowering
which it alternates with exhausted,
barely green recovery and dry stalk,

puts on this display simply (simply!)
to attract insects to accidentally
(accidentally!) aid it to
propagate its species..

so I, who am nothing to it
except perhaps a passing Samaritan
who gives it water in a thirsty summer
and, perhaps irrelevantly, perhaps
from deeper cause,
received just now a shout
of pure pinkness from it so that
my senses thrilled, passed the message uncommented
to what seemed like my purest being,

am indeed attracted, my nature to that of it,
animal or human I’ll leave others to decide,
and from that vaguest of cosmic relevance
intend to see it through the winter
to the birth of Spring or spring of birth
with what - my gardener friend -
may well be love

poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes

The Gardener

The gardener does not love to talk,
He makes me keep the gravel walk;
And when he puts his tools away,
He locks the door and takes the key.

Away behind the currant row
Where no one else but cook may go,
Far in the plots, I see him dig
Old and serious, brown and big.

He digs the flowers, green, red and blue,
Nor wishes to be spoken to.
He digs the flowers and cuts the hay,
And never seems to want to play.

Silly gardener! summer goes,
And winter comes with pinching toes,
When in the garden bare and brown
You must lay your barrow down.

Well now, and while the summer stays
To profit by these garden days
O how much wiser you would be
To play at Indian wars with me!

poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Less’er Love, And A Rose, In My Garden

I am gardener…. I prune, sheer… at times
…at times I have lesser love
And in less is more, very much more
…………….and there is this garden
..the garden, ours by the Grace of the Life Force, supreme God
..there is this Rose, and those Roses there… all chose a place to be
I, the Gardner choose the blooms from which Rose goes to the glass next my bed
I love this Rose, and less but similar those other
….they decide when to bloom
In sping late winter their souls weep, as I sheer, as I must
In spring and summer and early winter we rejoice as they bloom abundantly
…..every night one bloom from The Rose that’ad also chosen me
in the glass of water next my bed read to me, and comfort me
the delicate-, bewitching fragrance the bookmark for tomorrow night
I love that Rose as my chosen

I am gardener…. I prune, sheer… at times

…..only one Rose reads to me… I a lesser Gardener
Lesser, cause I’m only able t’love one Rose…..this Rose here
….those Roses there, some’r lessor Roses, some’r superior Roses, are my friends
Lesser in texture, shape and fiber and fragrance
Some superior in texture, or shape and or fiber and or fragrance
Friends equal in dimension with the Rose, but less in love than the Rose
…..every night one bloom from The Rose, that’s chosen me
in the glass of water next my bed read to me, and comfort me
the delicate-, bewitching fragrance the bookmark for tomorrow night
I love that Rose as my chosen

I, the gardener…. I prune, sheer…. at times
These other Roses who chose my garden
...so valuable in a muchness o’ Friendship,
…the quality their love much the same as that The Rose
Different the lesser my love, even though my caring equals that towards The Rose
We are blessed, those of us in the garden
…the magnificence of this garden in my life is the sumtotal of you all in my garden
I drink your fragrance intoxicated with love
I love The Rose, and my friends these other Roses in the garden Bless this love

poem by Johan Fourie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Country Path in Late Spring

The path of mossy ground nestled
In between maternal hedgerows,
That overgrew atop, dimming down
The brilliance of the day.
Embosomed, a calm-cool vision –
Abstract takes of nature, in
Leaf-spattered green shades;
Stem-speckled brown hues;
Shards of sunlight percolating
Through the random flaws to
Up glittering sprites upon the leaves.

And avian chatter bounced along the burrow,
Smattered by the crosstalk
Of busybody insects;
But outside the green comfort zone,
Other worlds of other sounds of other life
Otherwise gave a hint of
Other dozy goings on.

Hawthorn filled the air,
Filled the nose,
Filled the head –
Pungency had overpowered all –
Gave the late-spring-early-summer haze.

Here and there a break of colour:
Odd bluebells – escapees from nearby woods –
Blue-blushing bell faces glancing down,
Aware of their erectness in the stem;
The flaming wing of red admirals
Broke through a hedge hole to
Break up the calm backdrop,
While flitting blue tits gave
To greater-bodied animation.

Nature’s warm narration –
The undertones of life.

spring nature nature spring; spring nature nature spring
spring nature nature spring; spring nature nature spring
spring nature nature spring; spring nature nature spring
spring nature nature spring; spring nature nature spring
spring nature nature spring; spring nature nature spring
spring nature nature spring; spring nature nature spring
spring nature nature spring; spring nature nature spring
spring nature nature spring; spring nature nature spring
spring nature nature spring; spring nature nature spring
spring nature nature spring; spring nature nature spring
spring nature nature spring; spring nature nature spring
spring spring spring spring spring spring spring spring
spring spring spring spring spring spring spring spring

poem by Mark R Slaughter
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It is true, I see it more often

That for the sake of a single rose
The gardener becomes the servant
To a hundred thorns
So let the gardener come
To my house
And I will teach him how to be wise.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Marigolds

With a fork drive Nature out,
She will ever yet return;
Hedge the flowerbed all about,
Pull or stab or cut or burn,
She will ever yet return.

Look: the constant marigold
Springs again from hidden roots.
Baffled gardener, you behold
New beginnings and new shoots
Spring again from hidden roots.
Pull or stab or cut or burn,
They will ever yet return.

Gardener, cursing at the weed,
Ere you curse it further, say:
Who but you planted the seed
In my fertile heart, one day?
Ere you curse me further, say!
New beginnings and new shoots
Spring again from hidden roots.
Pull or stab or cut or burn,
Love must ever yet return.

poem by Robert Graves
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Life Is Lovely All the Year

When the buds are blossoming,
Smiling welcome to the spring,
Lovers choose a wedding day -
Life is love in merry May!

Spring is green - Fal lal la!
Summer's rose - Fal lal la!
It is sad when Summer goes,
Fal la!
Autumn's gold - Fal lal la!
Winter's grey - Fal lal la!
Winter still is far away -
Fal la!
Leaves in Autumn fade and fall;
Winter is the end of all.
Spring and summer teem with glee:
Spring and summer, then, for me!
Fal la!

In the Spring-time seed is sown:
In the Summer grass is mown:
In the Autumn you may reap:
Winter is the time for sleep.

Spring is hope - Fal lal la!
Summer's joy - Fal lal la!
Spring and Summer never cloy,
Fal la!
Autumn, toil - Fal lal la!
Winter, rest - Fal lal la!
Winter, after all, is best -
Fal la!
Spring and summer pleasure you,
Autumn, ay, and winter, too -
Every season has its cheer;
Life is lovely all the year!
Fal la!

poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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It Is Such A Beautiful Evening

Than Spring it is far more like Summer a summery warmth in the breeze
And sunshine on the old Town and Parkland and sunshine on the bushes and trees
The greeness of Spring all around me such beauty that cannot fail to please
The weather quite warm for September well over the twenty degrees.

Though early Spring few birds are singing in the warm sun of the day
They sing in the cool of the morning or in the twilight's fading gray
The Winter is finally over though Winter weather was far from severe
We may be due for an el nino a warm Spring is looming this year.

The heaths and prickly bushes are covered in their blue, pink and bright yellow flowers
They came to bloom in the late Winter in the cool and invigorating showers
The pardalotes by their nest entrance in a tiny hole in the ground
Wee wren sized birds spotted and pretty where they live small insects abound.

It is such a beautiful evening the swallows they chirp as they fly
And the sun with the warmth of Summer is glowing brightly in the blue sky
And the first brown butterflies of September are flitting in the balmy air
Alone and contented with Nature such moments are precious and rare.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Seek not the gardener in the flesh

Two maidens walk throughout the forest unknown
Darkened shadows gloom and each fights off
The demons of her insecurities, they stumble across
What seems like naught less than a garden, for all of
The flowers grow in rows creating the impression of design.

One of the maidens claimed that no gardener would come this
Far into the unknown just to create a garden of such wonders.

The other could not comprehend that such a beauty could of
Come across within a conscious will for it’s existence pure.

They each argued in turn and learnt
From each nothing more than the cementation
Of opinion in ignorance towards the other
Yet they agree to test in empirical measures
What force treasures this Garden of wonder.

So they waited and they waited so patiently,
For they had set up fences, and awaiting defenceless they saw nothing.

They heard nothing but the wind as it carried
Upon its song the seeds of springfull joy,
Still the flowers continued to bloom
But no gardener appeared in the form
The un believer was willing to accept.

She that sees the garden knows true the beauty of her surroundings
She knows that it does not need to be measured
For it is a treasure as it is a pleasure in itself,

Yet still her companion points to the weeds that grow,
She point to the dying trees burnt as embers glow.
She can not listen as her friend explains that each is a cycle within the
Medicine wheel, each weed is as worthy of our praise as are the flowers
That catch and dance in Apollo’s radiance.

As the seasons turn we learn
As we grow every second
We are making anew the mould,
Before the kiln of silence awaits.

Seek not the gardener in the flesh
But know that it is he who breathes fresh breathe anew
Into every living being
The gardener unseen is as real as the emotions within which we swim.

poem by David Lacey
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Romance Seconds Me, Where Ever I Go by Ray Subrata

In your old age you too are trailed romantic,
Adolescent, manhood, triangle, -the tricks.
Love in any form is romance,
It is either an intoxication or trance.
When romance says you good bye,
…Love from your life by itself flies..

When I write a poem, -I cry,
I had tried, I failed, I try.
You beauty your hello lips,
Mellow voice, willowing-cave,
Youthful shape, flash in my tape,

When I paint, -the Eye –romance,
The eternity peeps, and dances,
I say, simply, it is a romance.

Shakespeare for the Dark Lady,
Turned romantic and shady,
Tagore, -swam in Labana’s lake,
He, you, and me, assume fake,
A little bio-scope-romantic sake.

Is my birth for some One’s romance,
Between Time and Nature, -a romantic play,
Am I one of Every man’s humor?
With each change of transient –clay.

My God is romance incarnate,
And the Fate I tackle is so,
Romance seconds me where ever I go.

poem by Ray Subrata Ray
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To My Friend - Ode I

TRANSPLANT the beauteous tree!
Gardener, it gives me pain;
A happier resting-place
Its trunk deserved.

Yet the strength of its nature
To Earth's exhausting avarice,
To Air's destructive inroads,
An antidote opposed.

See how it in springtime
Coins its pale green leaves!
Their orange-fragrance
Poisons each flyblow straight.

The caterpillar's tooth
Is blunted by them;
With silv'ry hues they gleam
In the bright sunshine,

Its twigs the maiden
Fain would twine in
Her bridal-garland;
Youths its fruit are seeking.

See, the autumn cometh!
The caterpillar
Sighs to the crafty spider,--
Sighs that the tree will not fade.

Hov'ring thither
From out her yew-tree dwelling,
The gaudy foe advances
Against the kindly tree,

And cannot hurt it,
But the more artful one
Defiles with nauseous venom
Its silver leaves;

And sees with triumph
How the maiden shudders,
The youth, how mourns he,
On passing by.

Transplant the beauteous tree!
Gardener, it gives me pain;
Tree, thank the gardener
Who moves thee hence!

poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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Youve Got A Friend

(carole king)
Mmm, when youre down and troubled
And you need some love and care
And nothing, oh nothing, is going right
Just close your eyes and think of me
And soon I will be there
To brighten up even your darkest night
You just call out my name
And you know wherever I am
Ill come running (oh yeah), to see you again, oh, oh
Winter, spring, summer or fall
All you have to do is call
And Ill be there
Youve got a friend
Youve got a friend
If the sky up above you
Grows dark and full of clouds
And that old cold, north wind begins to blow, oh, oh, oh
Just keep your head together
And call my name out loud
Soon, youll hear me knocking at your door, ooh, hoo
You just call out my name
And you know wherever I am
Ill come run, run, run, run, running to see you again, oh, oh
Winter, spring, summer or fall, yeah
Said all you have to do is call
And Ill be there
Oh, aint it good to know that
Youve got a friend?
When people can be so cold
Theyll hurt you, yes, and desert you
And take your soul if you let them
Oh, but dont you let them, ha
You just call out my name
And you know wherever I am
Ill come running, running, run, running to see you again, ooh, hoo
Winter, spring, summer or fall
All you have to do is call
And Ill be there
Youve got a friend, oh, baby
Youve got a friend, oh, oh, baby
Youve got a friend, ooh, honey
You got, you got a friend, ooh, hoo
Youve got a friend
I said, youve got a friend

song performed by by Dusty Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Romance Seconds Me, Where Ever I Go

In your old age you too are trailed romantic,
Adolescent, manhood, triangle, -the tricks .
Love in any form is romance,
It is either an intoxication or trance.
When romance says you good bye,
...Love from your life by itself flies..

When I write a poem, -I cry,
I had tried, I failed, I try.
You Beauty, -your hello lips,
Mellow voice, willowing-cave,
Youthful shape, flash in my rib ,

When I paint, -the Eye –romance,
The eternity peeps, and dances,
I say, simply, it is and I a romantic.

Shakespeare for the Dark Lady,
Turned romantic and shady,
Tagore, -swam in Labana’s lake,
He, you, and me, assumed fake,
Live and let live to bake romance’s cake
A little bioscope-romantic sake.

Is my birth for some One’s romance,
Between Time and Nature, -a romantic play,
Am I one of Every man’s humor?
With each change of transient –clay.

Satan’s virtue made Eve, romantic,
Adam’s test of forbidden fruit,
In our life’s flow installed romantic root.

Could I live without my mother,
Whose concern by virtue is romantic,
And with my darling oblivious,
My untold hang, whispers unheard song,
In her charmed magic, to saturate the prong.

My God is romance incarnate,
And the Fate I tackle is so,
Romance seconds me where ever I go

poem by Ray Subrata Ray
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You've Got A Friend

When you're down and troubled
And you need a helping hand
And nothing, whoa nothing is going right.
Close your eyes and think of me
And soon I will be there
To brighten up even your darkest nights.
You just call out my name,
And you know wherever I am
I'll come running, oh yeah baby
To see you again.
Winter, spring, summer, or fall,
All you have to do is call
And I'll be there, yeah, yeah, yeah.
You've got a friend.
If the sky above you
Should turn dark and full of clouds
And that old north wind should begin to blow
Keep your head together and call my name out loud
And soon I will be knocking upon your door.
You just call out my name,
And you know wherever I am
I'll come running to see you again.
Winter, spring, summer or fall
All you got to do is call
And I'll be there, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Hey, ain't it good to know that you've got a friend?
People can be so cold.
They'll hurt you and desert you.
Well they'll take your soul if you let them.
Oh yeah, but don't you let them.
You just call out my name,
And you know wherever I am
I'll come running to see you again.
Oh babe, don't you know that,
Winter spring summer or fall,
Hey now, all you've got to do is call.
Lord, I'll be there, yes I will.
You've got a friend.
You've got a friend.
Ain't it good to know you've got a friend?
Ain't it good to know you've got a friend?
You've got a friend.

song performed by by Cliff Richard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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