Love Sonnet 40 Carefree Butterfly, Guide Her Back To Me,
Carefree butterfly, guide her back to me,
The one with flowers on her lovely hair,
In lush gardens, more blooms you might yet see,
But mark that there, no one is half as fair;
Find her basking with lilies white as milk,
Like snow which missed the rhythm of the year,
Or lodged with orchids, petals soft as silk,
Or with daisies, such heads so large to bear;
Follow her scent from garlands on her neck,
As in my ears, her voice still rings like song,
Of this whole world, she would be but a speck,
And be so lost, but would not be for long;
.....Spread out your wings, and take off from your perch,
.....To lush gardens, you must commence your search.
poem by Reyvrex Questor Reyes
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Garden Fantasy
gossamer wings of dragonflies
platinum petals of tanzanite tulips
sapphire daisies, ruby roses,
million flowers of mandarin garnets
red silk wings of butterflies
diamond-studded lilies of the valley
peridot grasses alexandrite dews
garnet violets aquamarine carnations
quarts crocus chrysoberyl chrysanthemums
opal orchids coral daffodils
metallic fantasies
of an imaginary garden
eventually your heart is missing
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Queen of Flowers
The queen of flowers
stands noble and true
a lovely red rose
with a brilliant hue.
Lush silk petals
long thorny stems
very few flowes
can rival them
Respect and courage
devotion so true
a simple message
i love you.
poem by Heather Burns
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The Approach
As we approach
the spiritual
rehlm
my honey is
waiting for my
arrival.
Hand in hand
we will stroll
together
through the
garden of
flowers.
There we will
gather bloossoms
smell their
sweet scent
touch the soft
petals.
In lush meadows
search for some-
where to rest
lie down in velvet
grasses
enjoy each other
renew our love
vows.
poem by Heather Burns
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In the spirit of Rumi - 45 - The Lily
In the gardens of the world
as the world and seasons turn,
in a thousand thousand gardens,
in a million fields and valleys,
the lilies grow.
the lilies of the field – proud
yet modest in the grass, proud
that Jesus spoke of them;
lilies of the valley – proud
yet modest as their scent
sings and calls, amongst all
the heady scents of nature,
the scent so close
to the wild cyclamen
in the hillside grass;
the regal lily, sharing with the rose
the Caliph’s and the Sultan’s gardens,
listening all their lives as lilies do
to the plashing fountain in the fragrant courtyard;
laughing quietly as the kohl-eyed beauties
round the Caliph in the evening garden
vie behind their silken veils
with perfumes mixed and strange..
each day, one lily in the bed
reaches its perfection, glows,
exults in its day of unique status,
as every lily has its day..
What honour then, can God bestow
upon his creatures, so magnificent,
so thunderous in their praise of Him
for those with ears to hear?
His most precious gift, which even men
rarely earn with all a lifetime serving Him –
a glimpse of His perfection..
And the regal lily, full of the humility
of the lily, Mary’s flower,
bows its slender neck
yields all its beauty, bowing low,
folds its curled petals, as Mary
submitting to the will of God;
and we, walking in the garden,
glance and say ‘Behold,
that lily which, but yesterday, was perfect,
is fading now already…’ and in our heart
passes, is discarded, the evening chill
of knowing ourselves to be that lily..
pride, humility, the gifted glimpse of God’s perfection,
barely acknowledged as they pass..
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Yellow Butterfly.
Gently flapping it's thin wings,
A butterfly lands upon my fingers,
And upon a soft breeze it leaves,
Yet it's delicate presence lingers.
Sunny yellow rimmed it's wings.
With dark daffodil yellow rings,
Pure coal black traced it's veins,
It's image - in my mind - remains.
Such a soft and delicate brush,
Of a butterflies wings, so plush,
The softest touch of it's tiny legs,
Lifted my spirits - well, the dregs.
That butterfly, that passed me by,
The messenger between land and sky,
Has stayed lodged in my mind,
I'll never meet another of it's kind,
A single butterfly, while I was alone,
Came to me and my world was thrown,
But I'll never forget that yellow butterfly,
That left me when I let out a soft sigh,
A soft sigh that came from me,
Swept my butterfly, set it free,
This is my butterfly that I'll remember,
My butterfly from last September.
poem by Rayne Goddard
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Heaven Is Hell
As I walk down a golden paved highway,
The sound of angels song fills my ears,
I dance amidst the couds that surround me,
A vision of paradise stretches out before me,
I breathe in life from all of my surroundings,
I have died and become an immortal,
Golden haloed angels have become my company,
Blooms of lush flowers and birdsong surround,
And in this paradise I search for you my love,
I call out your name, yet you do not answer,
My past lifes lived must have been sinful indeed,
Where my crimes against humanity so unspeakable?
What sins must I have committed to deserve this?
For I have searched this never ending paradise,
And now I know heaven is hell... For you are not here...
Spread the love... The peace will follow...
poem by Cosmic Dreamer
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Your Own Disater
Just think of this and me,
as just a few of the many things,
to lie around and clutter up your shelves
I wish you wern't worht the wait
cos theres somthing id like to say to you
and i dont think that you knwo what you've been missing
and i dont think that you knwow hat you've been missing
and i dare you to forget
the marks oyu left across my neck
from those nights when we were both at our best
and now i could make this obvious
and you, you could deny me
all in one breath you could shug mr off your shoulders
cos i dont think that you know what oyuve been missing
and i dont hitnk that you knwo what you've been missing
cos i dont think that you,
i said i dont think that you know
cos i dont think that you know what youve been missing
hey lush, have fun
its the weekend
hey lush have fun
hey lush, have fun
its the weekend
hey lush have fun
(no i dont think that you know what you've been missing)
hey lush, have fun
its the weekend
(no i dont think that you know what you've been missing)
hey lush, have fun
(no i dont think that you know what you've been missing)
hey lush, have fun
its the weekend
(forget me, its that simple)
(no i dont think that you know what you've been missing)
hey lush, have fun
(forget me, its that simple)
(no i dont think that you know what you've been missing)
hey lush, have fun
its the weekend
(forget me, its that simple)
(no i dont think that you know what you've been missing)
hey lush, have fun
(forget me, its that simple)
(oh i dont think that you know what you've been missing)
hey lush, have fun
its the weekend
(forget me, its that simple)
(no i dont think that you know what you've been missing)
hey lush, have fun
(forget me, its that simple)
(oh i dont think that you know what you've been missing)
hey lush, have fun
its the weekend
(forget me, its that simple)
(no i dont think that you know what you've been missing)
hey lush, have fun
(forget me, its that simple)
forget me its that simple
forget me its that simple
forget me, its that simple
forget me, its that simple
no i dont think that you know what youve been missing)
forget me, its that simple
forget me, its that simple
forget me, its that simple
forget me, its that simple
just forget me , its that simple
song performed by by Taking Back Sunday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The White Rose o' June
Air - 'Voice of Spring.'
Now the bricht sun, and the soft simmer showers,
Deck a' the woods and the gardens wi' flowers;
But bonny and sweet though the hale o' them be,
There's ane aboon a' that is dearest to me;
An' oh, that's the white rose, the white rose o' June,
An' may
he
that should wear it come back again sune!
It's no on my breast, nor yet in my hair,
That emblem dear I venture to wear;
But it blooms in my heart, and its white leaves I weet,
When alane in the gloamin' I wander to greet,
O'er the white rose, the white rose, the white rose o' June,
An' may
he
that should wear it come back again sune!
Mair fragrant and rich the red rose may be,
But there is nae spell to bind it to me;
But dear to my heart and to fond memorie,
Tho' scathed and tho' blighted the white rose may be.
O the white rose, the white rose, the white rose o' June,
O may
he
that should wear it come back again sune!
An' oh! may the true hearts thy perils who share,
Remember'd wi' tears, and remember'd in prayer,
Whom misfortune's rude blast has sent far awa',
Fair breezes bring back sune to cottage and ha';-
Then, O sing the white rose, the white rose o' June,
An' may
he
that should wear it wear Scotland's auld croun!
poem by Carolina Oliphant
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Hope Gardens Every Whisper
Hope gardens every whisper
Ever thought thoughtful flowers
A brocade of desire
Like dew-fall they are there to wander
The landscape of your dreams
To filter down and replenish
Every fallen leaf thereafter
Every jasmine is a star-gazer
White and pure in the now and hereafter
Hope gardens eternal
Just listen to the children's laughter
Their sudden mist of tears may fall
But search what happens after
Their limbs move gentler than the rain
When they in your arms are renewed
With your love again
Hope gardens every whisper
To a rainbows end we all must surrender
Pliant with; root in the earth, seeking heaven.
poem by Mark Heathcote
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A Flower To Auroville Mother-61
Peruvian lily(Lily-of-the-Incas,
Alstroemeria spp.)
Fabulous of a Princess charming
South of Bharath crowned having
Butterflied of wings designed
Skirted of a fashion designed
From wheely tubers umbrella-like
Petaled ornamental orchid-like
Lush and limply leaves all twisted
Lush and bushy flowers little curled
Big and small petals mostly six
In and out three-three artly fix
poem by Indira Renganathan
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The Skylark Sing Above The Mountain
The skylark sing above the mountain brow
And robin piping on the leafy bough
And lush green meads scent of the blooms of May
And it's Spring in a green Land far away.
I feel homesick at this time every year
I close my eyes the dunnock's voice i hear
In leafy grove the chaffinch chirp and sing
It would be nice to be home for the Spring.
It would be nice to go back home right now
When there is so much beauty to be seen
The birds are singing, wildflowers everywhere
And woods and valleys wear their richest green.
The currawongs are down from higher hills
I hear them calling on the tall gum trees
And morning air has breath of Winter chill
Whilst it's Spring in Ireland far beyond the seas.
If i had enough money i would go back home
If only for a month or even two
Enjoy the Spring, enjoy the peace and quiet
And do the things that i most like to do.
The skylark sing above the mountain brow
And robin piping on the leafy bough
And lush green meads scent of the blooms of May
And it's Spring in a green Land far away.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Her Eye Colors
spring
lush foliage
buds of flowers
tiny leaves
sprouting from the
twigs
in Hongkong
where there is no
space for gardens
she draws spring
in the colors
of her eyes
shades of green
and pink and
red and
blue for the flowers
the clouds
the horizon
the sun
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Apparition of a Butterfly
Upon a fuzzy vista – vision blurred –
I tried to focus; nothing ever solid
Came to view, but undeterred, I blinked
An eye to try again. Through the mist
A coloured hue; polychromatic flames
Had flickered at a whim; a rhythm bore
A thrumming too: a naturalistic hymn.
Behold! Were I to find a synonym to
Reproduce or recreate
The apparition of a butterfly,
Evolving through the waning vapour,
Drawing on a sigh from this romantic.
Glory be! The raging sun above
Had fired his furnace, flaming off
The hangers on. Now I saw the flare:
His time has come. He spread a tortoiseshell –
A scene of Mother Nature at her best.
I lay in peace in knowing I was blessed.
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
Butterfly Butterfly Butterfly Butterfly Butterfly Butterfly
Butterfly Butterfly Butterfly Butterfly Butterfly Butterfly fly
Butterfly Butterfly Butterfly Butterfly Butterfly Butterfly fly
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Your Own Disaster
Just think of this and me
as just a few of many things
to lie around
to clutter up your shelves
And I wish you weren't worth the wait
because there's some thing's
I'd like to say to you...
I don't think that
you know what
you've been missing
Cuz I don't think that
you know what
you've been missing
I dare you to forget
those marks you left
across my neck
from those nights when we were both
found at our best
I could make this obvious,
and in one breath
you could shrug me off
your shoulders...
I don't think that
you know what
you've been missing
Cuz I don't think that
you know what
you've been missing
Hey, lush, have fun
It's the weekend
Hey, lush, have fun
Hey, lush, have fun
It's the weekend
Hey, lush, have fun
I don't think that
you know what
you've been missing
I don't think that
you know what
you've been missing
Just forget me
it's that simple
Just forget me
it's that simple
song performed by by Taking Back Sunday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Queen Victoria
When little Victoria played
at the lake in Claremont Gardens
as a child long before she became queen,
did she capture a large swallowtail butterfly
from a reed and then pulled off its golden
and black veined wings
or was she then, innocent of such a thing?
When little Victoria played
at the lake in Claremont Gardens
as a child long before she became queen,
did she trample the flowers
pulling the white and yellow water lilies
out of the lake
or was she then, innocent of such a thing?
When little Victoria became a powerful queen
did her government go to war
against the Orange Free State
and Transvaal Republics?
Did her soldiers force women and children
into concentration camps
where twenty thousand died?
Did her soldiers kill three thousand
Christian farmers after demolishing their farms?
And did her government loose
twenty eight thousand soldiers
of its own?
Or was she then, innocent of such things?
[Note: My own great grandmother died in a British concentration camp and my great grandfather was sent by the British to St. Helena as a prisoner of war and as a result of this, my grandfather(Gert Strydom) grew up in a orphanage.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Together Again
As I approach
the spiritual
rehlm
my honey is
waiting for
my arrival.
Hand in hand
we will stroll
through the
garden of
flowers.
Smell their
essence
touch the soft
petals.
In the lush
meadows
we search for
a bed to rest.
Lie down
together
in the velvet
grasses
enjoy each other
renewing our
love vows.
poem by Heather Burns
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I Saw a Butterfly
I saw a butterfly
I saw him well
The tears were in his eyes
They burned like hell
He looked like just the strongest one in this world
but if you touched him he could die
This lovely butterfly who dreamed of life
As he spread his wings to fly beyond the skies
He wished the world would see him for who he is
A lovely butterfly, not an eagle
The butterfly I saw
poem by Ayobami Idowu
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Song of the Pilgrims
O Dwellers at the back of the North Wind,
What have we done to you? How have we sinned
Wandering the Earth from Orkney unto Ind?
With many deaths our fellowship is thinned,
Our flesh is withered in the parching wind,
Wandering the earth from Orkney unto Ind.
We have no rest. We cannot turn again
Back to the world and all her fruitless pain,
Having once sought the land where ye remain.
Some say ye are not. But, ah God! we know
That somewhere, somewhere past the Northern snow
Waiting for us the red-rose gardens blow:
-The red-rose and the white-rose gardens blow
In the green Northern land to which we go,
Surely the ways are long and the years are slow.
We have forsaken all things sweet and fair,
We have found nothing worth a moment's care
Because the real flowers are blowing there.
Land of the Lotus fallen from the sun,
Land of the Lake from whence all rivers run,
Land where the hope of all our dreams is won!
Shall we not somewhere see at close of day
The green walls of that country far away,
And hear the music of her fountains play?
So long we have been wandering all this while
By many a perilous sea and drifting isle,
We scarce shall dare to look thereon and smile.
Yea, when we are drawing very near to thee,
And when at last the ivory port we see
Our hearts will faint with mere felicity:
But we shall wake again in gardens bright
Of green and gold for infinite delight,
Sleeping beneath the solemn mountains white,
While from the flowery copses still unseen
Sing out the crooning birds that ne'er have been
Touched by the hand of winter frore and lean;
And ever living queens that grow not old
And poets wise in robes of faerie gold
Whisper a wild, sweet song that first was told
Ere God sat down to make the Milky Way.
And in those gardens we shall sleep and play
For ever and for ever and a day.
Ah, Dwellers at the back of the North Wind,
What have we done to you? How have we sinned,
That yes should hide beyond the Northern wind?
Land of the Lotus, fallen from the Sun,
When shall your hidden, flowery vales be won
And all the travail of our way be done?
Very far we have searched; we have even seen
The Scythian waste that bears no soft nor green,
And near the Hideous Pass our feet have been.
We have heard Syrens singing all night long
Beneath the unknown stars their lonely song
In friendless seas beyond the Pillars strong.
Nor by the dragon-daughter of Hypocras
Nor the vale of the Devil's head we have feared to pass,
Yet is our labour lost and vain, alas!
Scouring the earth from Orkney unto Ind,
Tossed on the seas and withered in the wind,
We seek and seek your land. How have we sinned?
Or is it all a folly of the wise,
Bidding us walk these ways with blinded eyes
While all around us real flowers arise?
But, by the very God, we know, we know
That somewhere still, beyond the Northern snow
Waiting for us the red-rose gardens blow.
poem by Clive Staples Lewis
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Butterfly
VERSE 1
When you love someone so deeply
They become your life
It's easy to succumb to overwhelming fears inside
Blindly I imaged I could
Keep you under glass
Now I understand to hold you
I must open my hands
And watch you rise
CHORUS 1
Spread your wings and prepare to fly
For you have become a butterfly
Fly abandonedly into the sun
If you should return to me
We truly were meant to be
So spread your wings and fly
Butterfly
VERSE 2
I have learned that beauty
Has to flourish in the light
Wild horses run unbridled
Or their spirit dies
You have given me the courage
To be all that I can
And truly feel your heart will
Lead you back to me when you're
Ready to land
CHORUS 2
Spread your wings and prepare to fly
For you have become a butterfly
Fly abandonedly into the sun
If you should return to me
We truly were meant to be
So spread your wings and fly
Butterfly
BRIDGE
I can't pretend these tears
Aren't over flowing steadily
I can't prevent this hurt from
Almost overtaking me
But I will stand and say goodbye
For you'll never be mine
Until you know the way it feels to fly
CHORUS 3
Spread your wings and prepare to fly
For you have become a butterfly
Fly abandonedly into the sun
If you should return to me
We truly were meant to be
So spread your wings and fly
Butterfly
CHORUS 4
Spread your wings and prepare to fly
For you have become a butterfly
Fly abandonedly into the sun
If you should return to me
We truly were meant to be
So spread your wings and fly
Butterfly
So flutter through the sky
Butterfly
Spread your wings and fly
Butterfly
song performed by by Mariah Carey from Butterfly
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Oh why butterfly?
His wings of jade and amber,
Wink, like gilt pennants in the sun.
Oh why butterfly?
Just flutter on by.
As he twists and he tumbles,
He sheds tears of childish glee.
Oh why butterfly?
Escape to the sky.
Dark nights are ever nearer,
But he sings his carefree song.
Oh why butterfly?
For winter is nigh
The frost set hard on my butterfly,
His glowing eyes were lifeless.
His beautiful wings lost all their shine.
Oh why butterfly?
I hear your cry.
-9.10pm 2nd January 2001, age 14 -
poem by Amy J Richardson
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