A Substitute
A spring came,
With no bud or flower,
Then the butterflies,
Stitched themselves,
On the points of thorns.
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Butterflies For Breakfast? (Life Poem)
Butterflies before you sit the final exam,
Butterflies before you go for a job interview,
Butterflies before you ask her out on a date,
Butterflies before you kiss her for the first time,
Butterflies before you propose two will be one,
Butterflies before you meet her family,
Butterflies before you see her all in white,
Butterflies before you make that big speech,
Butterflies before you see that your baby is OK,
Butterflies before you get news from the doctor,
Butterflies before you lose your job again,
Butterflies before you face any little crisis,
But -
No butterflies for breakfast.
poem by Ian Beckett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Flowers of Thy Being
Being the human beings
Undiscerning is our Art
The thoughts are merely feeble
The Actions, unwise
Me Lord! Me Lord!
Helpless we are, careless as well
The Moment, Thy Person reflects Thy Art
Visible is evrything, discerning we are!
What is Thorn? What is Flower?
Demarkation is accessible
Numerous Thorns we come across
Thorns!
Maybe are the Idols!
Yeah, they are!
Our 'self' leads us to Idols
Thy 'Self' takes us towards Flowers:
The Flower of Thy Word!
The Flower of Thy Path!
The Flower of Thy Guidance!
The Flower is nothing else but Thy Being
O' Lord save us from Idols!
Protect us from Thorns I mean
Shower upon us just Thy Flowers
The Flowers of Thy Being
The Flowers of Thy Being
poem by Azhar Hameed
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
They are sad
They are sad
Butterflies were dancing,
Bees were kissing him.
Bumble bee was sucking him
& children were seeing him with charm.
It was a marigold on the top of the plant.
On the other hand some thorns were seeing the glory of the flower
and
their eyes were full of thrust & tears
Because none was seeing them.
In the last they asked its reason from the flower.
The flower tells them the truth that
They are without beautiful colors,
Juice & fragrance
And he is full of colors, juice & fragrance
So every one likes him.
Another fact is this that the flower
is a symbol of peace & love.
On the other hand the thorn is a symbol of cruelty & pain.
I think that unaccountable people in this world
behave like a thorn so they are sad.
poem by Vijay Gupta
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Butterflies
Butterflies are lovely
Butterflies are colourful
They are immensely pleasing
While I see them flitting
From flower to flower
From bower to bower
God's beautiful creation
Wonderful to heart's recreation.
poem by Chandra Thiagarajan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Spring Fever
(words & music by giant - baum - kaye)
A little bird, he told me so
He said come on, get on the go
Open your eyes the sky is full of butterflies
The blossoms on the trees stir up the honey bees
Spring makes my fever right
Spring fever, spring is here at last
Spring fever, my hearts beating fast
Get up, get out spring is everywhere
Well if you feel the wanderlust
Just grab a car or hop a bus
In every town theres excitement to be found
So much is happening
Dont miss the joy of spring
The worlds in love just look around
Spring fever comes to everyone
Spring fever, its time for fun
Get up, get out spring is everywhere
Spring fever, its spring fever time
Spring fever, watch that fever climb
Get up, get out spring is everywhere
Spring is everywhere
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Little flower
It seems she is the beautiest flower.
Hidden in the darkest tower.
Hidden in the deepest dark.
Wearing all her thorns so sharp.
The flower I do like so much.
The flower I'm not allowed to touch.
The flower I'm thinking of.
Although she's sometimes so rough.
Flower of my misery.
Shine on in eternaty.
Flower of my happiness.
Eased away my deep distress.
The flower is so far away.
Watch her growing day by day.
She lives on the other side.
But she makes my days so bright.
poem by Sven Meinecke
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Insomniac Butterflies...
i can't sleep
upon this
Durban Deep,
my eyes are
butterflies
flying out the
window
from the house
of my heart
i am blind
outside the flowers
are captivating
two insomniac
butterflies
winking, the petals
signify
ultimately the breaking
of four wings
i am blinded by the
absence of
my portions
be the flower of my trust
seduce my butterflies
take them
in the sweetness of
your nectar
their proboscis
upon your bosom
in drunken ecstasy
it is only through this
that i will see
the light of morning again.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Guernica
Watch me at war really up
You wanna hurt me stop the row
We both are stitched up now
We're hard with fear hard speak up
You wanna hurt me stop the row
We both are stitched up now
We're whores sit down
We're whores that's us
He wanted us he swore and all we've got
You wanna hurt me stop the row
We both are stitched up now
We're hard with fear hard speak up
You wanna hurt me stop the row
We both are stitched up now
We're whores sit down
We're whores that's us
Simple lives yeah we don't have
We pack up in truth it seems this
Peacemakers has arms that hold fear
See gargoyles can you see the wonder?
Yes I fear the carbine
What does never wrong mean?
That's right
Every one of us he swore so hurry up
You wanna hurt me stop the row
We both are stitched up now
We're hard with fear hard speak up
You wanna hurt me stop the row
Both of us are stitched up now
We're whores sit down
We're Whores
That must mean sinful eyes that maim of fear
It's the look that stings I fear boy
Being distrusting I trust no one
They've been back down for nothing
It was never shared it's ours
We will know those names who follow
song performed by by The Stone Roses from B-sides & Other Songs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Of past relationships, plants and things
If I have to find a plant
of her
she wouldn’t have been a rose
as though it has thorns,
it has meaningful beauty
and it leaves an odour
that stays with you.
Although at a time
I thought that she’s a beautiful flower
I have to stay
far away from flowers
and try and get another plant,
because I will forever
search to find
the right flower.
An Umbrella-thorn bush
with shafts of thorns for me,
is probably the best description
that I will ever find
and where she touches me
it scratches till the blood appears.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Guernica
Guernica is in fact made of stone backwards.
Watch me at war really up
You wanna hurt me stop the row
We both are stitched up now
Were hard with fear hard speak up
You wanna hurt me stop the row
We both are stitched up now
Were whores sit down
Were whores thats us
He wanted us he swore and all weve got
You wanna hurt me stop the row
We both are stitched up now
Were hard with fear hard speak up
You wanna hurt me stop the row
We both are stitched up now
Were whores sit down
Were whores thats us
Simple lives yeah we dont have
We pack up in truth it seems this
Peacemakers has arms that hold fear
See gargoyles can you see the wonder?
Yes I fear the carbine
What does never wrong mean?
Thats right
Every one of us he swore so hurry up
You wanna hurt me stop the row
We both are stitched up now
Were hard with fear hard speak up
You wanna hurt me stop the row
Both of us are stitched up now
Were whores sit down
Were whores
That must mean sinful eyes that maim of fear
Its the look that stings I fear boy
Being distrusting I trust no one
Theyve been back down for nothing
It was never shared its ours
We will know those names who follow
song performed by by Stone Roses
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
New Spring
Spring!
Spring! How beautiful is the
Spring! How wonderful is the
Spring! How majestic is the
Spring! How fantastic is the
Spring! How tantalizing is the
Spring! How glorious is the
Spring! How melodious is the
Spring! How joyful is the
Spring! How breathtaking is the
Spring! How uplifting the
Spring! How happy is the
Spring! How magnificent is the
Spring! How colorful is the
Spring! How tasteful is the
Spring! How memorable was the
Spring! How flavorful is the
Spring! How aromic is the
Spring! How sweet is
Spring! How beautiful is the
Spring!
poem by Mario Saboundjian
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Little Flower Of Mine
Spring has come once more
with a gentle wind in the rays of the sun.
Here stands a little flower among the country plains.
Little flower of mine,
You’re the rose among lilies that blossoms in all its grace.
Little flower of mine
I love your radiance of red,
and your quiet strength amid the storm.
Little flower of mine,
inspite of wind and rain you grew and grew still.
Little flower of mine
you’re the apple of mine eye,
you’re the flower that never dies.
Little flower of mine,
You’re my inspiration and joy indeed.
poem by Lyndon Murray
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Anguish Thoughts
I saw a flower
Not so fresh, enchanting
It has no sweet smell as roses have.
But it has the thorns of roses.
If I touch a flower
I can tell its soft or rough
But all flowers are soft
Soft petals with sweet fragrance
Make a flower beloved.
But I can’t touch this flower
For it is dangerous.
But worms found its bed
And going to destroy my little flower.
Can this secret love
Destroy her crimson petals?
poem by Abdul Hakeem Parannur
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
In the spring garden
In the spring garden
~
In the spring garden
Birds sing and chatter
While flowers raise their heads
To greet the morning sun
A garden filled with colour bright
A garden which now fills with life
The bee and the butterfly hover
From flower to flower gathering nectar
Seeding the flowers blossom
Throughout the spring garden
The dew glistens upon the grass
While the wind gently rolls in the tree
All the world slowly waking
Soon to this bounty of great beauty
Every hue from natures pallet
Is here free for all to see
In the spring garden
poem by Matthew Holloway
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Improvisations: Light And Snow: 02
I stood for a long while before the shop window
Looking at the blue butterflies embroidered on tawny silk.
The building was a tower before me,
Time was loud behind me,
Sun went over the housetops and dusty trees;
And there they were, glistening, brilliant, motionless,
Stitched in a golden sky
By yellow patient fingers long since turned to dust.
poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Beauty of Spring
The Beauty of Spring
I am looking out of a glass window.
I see a group of cherry blossom trees in the distance.
Nearby, there is a quaint little house.
This magnificence takes my breathe away.
The Beauty of Spring.
Daffodils are blooming.
Butterflies are fluttering through the air.
Robins are singing there beautiful song.
The world is coming back to life after a long winter.
The Beauty of Spring.
A gentle breeze skims across my face.
I inhale the sweet scent of flowers.
I see a world of gorgeous and vivid colors.
I absolutely love spring.
The Beauty of Spring.
I am Taking in The Beauty of Spring
poem by Bleeding Heart
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Wilderness Flower
Wilderness flower
Wilderness flower
Beautiful in its innocent blue
In morning young hour
And rain falling shower
Your color is sweetness so true
Like pearls on spring earth
With glowing of light
Each pure and so worth
In arrangement and sight
Wilderness flower
Wearing its headdress so right
My love calls to you
(In the Icelandic wilderness, the first sign of spring are the little flowers you see everywhere – in their blossoming freedom)
poem by Peter S. Quinn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Quintessence Of The Flowers
Pensively, come to where the garden is
With your feet sprinting through the brambly sophistication.
Pry - you never did, and you never will - for
The peculiarity of the flowers rouse the tides of your scruple;
The petals are tethered to the body so slender - modest
In a starburst as the malingering shrill of the flower is the
Catalyst of the somersaulting noon-time delight,
Caught by the fancy of this inveigle, the farce has been played out,
Dear agile lover - you dare not pluck this flower for you tremble
In the nullity of its feigned void - there is an augury to be found
In a flower: prolix, sapid and perennial like how the trees
Have witnessed the scowling of the heavens as the mire
Satiates each of the heaven's parcel!
You ask me incessantly now, that you have come to the
Acquaintance of the petals - these wondrous parasols,
The cantankerous thorns cloaking the flower's flagrant body;
These are no more than wry and insidious invitations:
A challenge to the eagerness of your heart to pluck the flower
Out of its perturbed garden as the beasts of the night trample a trifle morose
Anguish all over the tapestry.
Its roots need not an explanation dear love, just open your callow eyes
And there you will see that the petals, the thorns, the curtailed stem,
And the perfunctory silence of the roots are one and the same.
This flower at the cynosure of the garden is a vivid reflection of you,
Conjured, and that is the meaning of the flower:
That forever you are girdled though your thorns
May perforate my entirety, my hands - let it bleed
And that is the meaning of the flower,
That even if the petals - your petals whittle away
I will still hold your reminiscences like that of a multihued petal
Fluttering away into the sea where I look for you.
And your slender body that I will cradle as we sieve
Through everything and anything that will impede
Our inexorable swiftness.
I am the garden, and you are the flower, ceaselessly
I will girdle you until the vale abates into nothingness.
poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Spring Did Begin (Rondelet)
Spring did begin
with lovely flowers blossoming,
spring did begin
with cheerful insects rushing in
with small butterflies fluttering
with joyful lovely birds that sing,
spring did begin.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
My Pretty Rose Tree
A flower was offered to me,
Such a flower as May never bore;
But I said, ‘I’ve a pretty rose tree,’
And I passed the sweet flower o’er.
Then I went to my pretty rose tree,
To tend her by day and by night;
But my rose turned away with jealousy,
And her thorns were my only delight.
poem by William Blake from Songs of Experience (1794)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy!