Flowers For The Bees
you talk about a world
of flowers
and i cannot help but
also remember
the thorns and worms
bee to bee
tree to tree
aphid to
aphid
do you wish to bring me there?
is there a world for me?
flowers for the bees
rivers for the trees
suns for the grass
stones for the sands
in your circus world
of flora
Brigitte
the fauna clowns are no longer funny
look at me
i am no longer a child
candies do not
attract me
i decide for myself
now
and neither sorrow nor joy
is not
anymore the prime
envoy
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Child's Plea....!
I am that kid,
Sometimes wise,
Sometime innocently
foolish,
But remaining ever curious to learn,
Anyone including you,
Be my teachers,
Clouds and rain, rainbow and trees,
Rivers and mountains,
fishes and lakes,
Kingfisher and woodpecker,
Even birds and flowers too!
I wonder at this dream world,
Wonderful stars shining in eyes,
Please be kind enough,
Let my child and its grand child,
Also wonder at beauty of this
world, Please kill not colourful animals
and birds,
Spill not the nature's gift, this
beautiful world is always
beautiful with colours of life
shining everywhere!
You may create beautiful glass
tree,
No bird will nest on it,
No bird can sing happily and perch its beak
its beak on it,
You may create artificial flowers,
Never liked by bees and butterfly,
you may create toy butterfly,
but that can't bring me thrill,
Come out to garden,
Let us play,
Promise me,
no life you ever try to slay.
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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Without A Tree
A world without a Tree
Would be a World without me
It would be a World I wouldn't know
A place where beauty isn't shown.
Where dreams and rainbows are not made.
And every moment is a lifeless day.
A World without a Seed
Not being planted to grow a Tree
To shade the head from sun or rain
Or to stare at it's beauty everyday.
A Treeless life would be a darkened sky.
And would be as meaningless as a hopeless lie.
A world without a Tree
Would be a World without a Leaf,
Rainbow parks would all be gone
Along with the Children dancing on the lawn.
With songs of the birds no longer sung.
While colorful paintings no longer hung.
A World without a Seed
Would be a World without a breeze
To enter the Trees to release the Leaves
Then to enter my soul, then to free me.
A barren World upon a rock.
Where my Soul and I be forever lost.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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They're To Succeed
Passing by they stopped and parked
Such lovely blossom seems so sweet.
Gladly indeed they thought it's a treat
They rushed in! Out came a swarm of bees
The bees cried chop, cho. They're a happy fleet
They watched them keep busy around the tree.
In this world of ours, it there wild world.
Funny these people never stopped to ask
They've to achieved between those tree.
God provided and restored life indeed
All on there own enjoying the breeze around the tree.
Know hand out stretched in the tree
They roam through the field to succeed
Move from three to tree to fulfill their needs
Stopped in all most every tree they meet
They have to survive on the ground to the tree.
poem by Delores V. Bogle
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Seen in a Glass
Behind the tree, behind the house, behind the stars
In the presence that I cannot see
Otherwise than as house and stars and tree.
Tree, house and stars
Extend to infinity within themselves
Into the mystery of the world
Where whirl the wheels of power whose pulse beat
Out of nothing, out of night,
Leaves, stones and fires,
The living tree whose maypole dance
Of chromosome and nucleus
Traces the maze of boughs and leaves.
The standing house of stone that poured
In molten torrent when was hurled
Out of chaos this great world,
And suns whose kindling begins anew
Or ends the course that tree, house, world move through.
Upheld by being that I cannot know
In other form than stars and stones and trees
Assume in nature’s glass, in nature’s eyes.
poem by Kathleen Jessie Raine
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I Say There's A Tree, A Horizon
Big tree
right outside my room
tell me when your flowers will bloom
big tree
a wars'a comin soon
this war'll bring you alotta doom
big tree
spread your leaves and fly
cuz you dont wanna be here when your flowers die
big tree
uproot yourself and run
run from the bullets and run from the guns
war
from the oceans to the land
no more water to fill your hands
flowers
I'll try to water you
but theres salt in my tears and that jus' wont do
big tree
they dont understand
that what they do effects your land
big tree
by you I've made a bed
and I ask you how this war moves us ahead
big tree
my friend whats the cost
if only they could see the faces of the lost
pinecone
shaped like a grenade
the grass where you lay is all I could save
big tree
where have your sisters gone?
to make more boxes to lay flags on?
big tree
where have your brothers gone?
to make more boxes to carve names on?
poem by Chris Osterbrock
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Shall She Throw Then The Apple Of Discord?
out there is the calm
and the harmony of the leaves
and the grass
the silence of the ants and
the privacy of the worms
she does not like this
she needs the chaos to divert the
lulling ennui
that will soon numb and kill her
and so she climbs the only living
tree at the center of this paradise
gets the only apple
that she throws under the trees
beside the grass and flowers
and then the discord starts to unfold
now she watches all of them in their
domestic wars
the trees shake the leaves
and the worms are eating the barks
and the ants are building their empires
on sands
simply because they have turned
the blind eye the deaf ear
the gaps of communication bore
the holes of pandemonium
she sits and weaves herself a bandanna
now she is ready to go
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Jabberwocky Redux
After reading too much Aquinas
Would an aphid reside in an onager's ear
if the onager's master spoke Twi?
Or a Gascony scop with a leper elope
if a civet leapt out of a tree?
You doubt it? Read Thomas and see.
Would an addax in Denmark gyrate
if an emu in Sweden bore freight?
Or an eland in Chile complain
if jerboas in Goa refrain?
You doubt it? Read Thomas and see.
For really I thought ‘twas the onager taught
the aphid the tenor of Twi, and that
Gascony scops with Norwegians eloped
when Danes had lepers to tea.
You doubt it? Read Thomas and see.
poem by Donal Mahoney
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December
December lies nice and hot in my garden,
while the rays of the summer sun
shines endearing over my world.
The fragrances of flowers
rise in vapours all around the house
and everywhere,
there are the most beautiful colours
of unfolding flowers.
The green grass
jump almost knee high,
out of gladness to the summer rain.
In the big old Jacaranda tree
doves sit and peer at the wonderful world,
while they coo a joyful song.
The power of summer
is to be seen everywhere
and the day washes over me,
in the shadow
of the old pepper tree.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Predicament
when the poet shall silence his voice and thought
And the flowers never bloom again...
When the mountains shall shake of pains,
And the Sun goes up melancholic
To warm the birds that shall not sing anymore...
When the beautiful spring
Shall turn into a crude winter...
When the night shall seem much longer,
And the sea shall become quieter
At any given time....
When the wind jealously
Shall set itself apart to let the nostalgic trees
Strip their leaves as a symbol
Of rebelliousness...
When there shall not be a fragile smile
Pasted on a child's face,
And One's heart shall not beat like a drum anymore..
When there shall not be a radiant moon
Inspiring all the lovers of the world....
And the stars shall shine very dim
As a sign of sadness....
Then, man shall learn to be faithful to God and himself,
And walk freely through a path of peace and dignity...
Then, he shall again be proud of himself
And proud also of his fellow human beings...
To whom he shall give flowers
Instead of thorns...
COPY WRITE©2009
poem by Romeo Della Valle
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Its Funny
It’s funny how you break me down
And yet I’m still there waiting
How you yell and scream
And I’m still there trying.
Its funny how you get away
With the crap you do.
Well I’m not laughing
Because it’s just
Sad that you manipulate
Me the way you do.
Make me feel guilty
When I try to express myself!
It’s funny how you have
So much control over MY world,
And how push my buttons and
I refrain from do anything at all.
Its funny how play your cards,
Thinking I’d never leave.
Well no ones laughing anymore
Everyone can now see
You will no longer have control
Over me! No longer be the cause
Of my tears, no longer tell me what to do.
It’s funny, the way you’re
Looking at me all pathetic,
It’s funny the way I tipped the
Tables. Yes I’m laughing now,
I can finally fly and have no worries.
Your reign is done, the moments
Are gone, I think its funny that now
You’ll suffer what I have for many months.
poem by Megan Bullington
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When The Day Of Darkness Comes
WHEN THE DAY OF DARKNESS COMES
When the day of darkness comes
And it will come-
And when I can no longer see or feel the world-
When I am gone
Forever gone-
The same flowers and trees
The same sky
The same morning light
The same human dreams
The same loves and hates and sadnesses and joys
The same human condition
Will still be-
When I am no longer here
You will go on as you always have-
O world,
What will I do without you?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Old Peach Tree
Under the old peach tree
Hearing the buzz of bees
Looking up at pink blossoms so sweet
Watching pink petals fall at my feet
Under the old peach tree almost fallen down
I can hear every sound as the sun goes down
I hear somewhere the song of a mocking bird
The sweetest song I ever heard
As I lean against the old peach tree
I think of things that used to be
This old tree brings me back to my childhood
And the many peaches I ate that were so good
Old peach tree I wish you could talk
Whisper to me some of your thoughts
But instead you fill my heart with your beauty
As I smell the perfume of your blossoms so fruity
I wonder how much longer you'll be here.
How much longer my heart you'll cheer
I hope to lean against you many a spring
And feel the peace that you bring.
poem by Grace Riffle
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Perfect World
In my perfect world
The sky is a perfect blue
The grass is a soft green
And together are me and you
In my perfect world
The sun is a perfect heat
No global warming
It would be a treat
In my perfect world
There would be no disease
The flowers would bloom everyday
And no one would cut down trees
In my perfect world
No one would be poor
The streets paved with gold
Silver for the floor
In my perfect world
Death would never come
Pain would go away
And no one would be dumb
In my perfect world
The government would not rule
We’d chose for ourselves
What we thought was cool
In my perfect world
Racism would not exist
Discrimination would be over
And nothing would end with fists
But then I remember
I can’t believe it’s true
But my world really is perfect
Because I spend it with you
Have a tea
Please come and have a tea
We all are the fruits of the same tree.
The flowers look beautiful in the tree only
You can enjoy it.
I am a fruit of this world
I am a flower of this world
You are to choose what to do with me.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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We Don't Talk Anymore
I used to think that life was sweet
I used to think it was so complete
I can't believe you, you've thrown it away
I used to think we had it made
I used to feel we would sail away
Can you just imagine how I feel today
Well, it seems a long time ago
You were the lonely one
Now it comes to letting go
And you're the only one
Do you know what you've done
It's so funny how we don't talk anymore
It's so funny why we don't talk anymore
But I ain't losing sleep and I ain't counting sheep
It's so funny how we don't talk anymore
It really doesn't matter to me
I guess your leaving was meant to be
It's down to you now
You want to be free
Well, I hope you know which way to go
You're on your own again
Don't come running to me when you're the lonely one
Remember what you've done
It's so funny how we don't talk anymore
It's so funny why we don't talk anymore
It's so funny how we don't talk ..... anymore.......
song performed by by Tom Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I do not live in a world of flowers & clouds and mountains & rivers & brooks
I do not live in a world of flowers
I do not live in the world of blue clouds and green mountains and ricefields
I do not live in running rivers and stretching seas and clear brooks
Though I write about them
Though I miss the scent exuded by them in their kindness
Though I like the bees and butterflies that busy in their
Multicolored world with some rainbows and coolness
Of rain showers and warmth of sunshine so like
Paradise, so like the Eden of our ancient dreams,
But I do not live in the world of flowers
I cannot leave in the world of flowers
My land is this desert scorched by the noonday sun
My sea is this sand stretching from shore to shore
My outlook, my view is this misleading mirage
My clouds are these unresolved doubts and fears
And my air is this silence that only the dead can surmise.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Queen's Flowers
During the month of April
Tree after tree in full bloom;
Mauve flowers, pushing out in plenty,
With copper pod yellow flowers on top
Here and there - taller, larger trees.
A solitary bread-tree flaunts its pretty leaves,
Bunch of bell-tree flowers intruding through;
Nearby a frangipani tree with white-streaked red flowers
Bougainvillae and railway creepers on the fence
Along the pavement where I walk.
Line, color, motion, light and shade
Thrill me: what my eyes see each moment
Constitute a better painting than
Any of the greatest of Masters.
Alas, it is evanescent!
13th April 2007
Bandra-Kurla.
poem by Daniel Trevelyn Joseph
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My Return To The Magical Mystery Tree
Many kids run through the grass
Playing whatever game they've chosen
Passing them by
I walk up to the magicial mystery tree
I've paid a visit to the magicial mystery
tree before
And some have said that they can see
on the tree, a door
And some have said that they never saw
anything on the tree
I can see the door
But it's locked up tight
And try as I may
I can't unlock it
Not even with the help of the sunlight
Some say there's a whole different world
inside the magical mystery tree
Some say that only fairies and their friends
live inside the magical mystery tree
But no one knows for sure
So
After a few minutes in thought
Thinking of what I should do in the meantime
at the magical mystery tree
I decide to leave some very small gifts behind
for the fairies and their friends
Leaving behind some flowers and jewels
for the fairies and their friends
I certainly hope they'll enjoy them
I place near the door of the magical mystery
tree
After that
I realize I'm all done here
I gaze at the magical mystery tree for a few
moments
Until I realize it's time for me to be on my way
Looking at the magical mystery tree one last
time
I smile
Then I turn and walk away
Enjoy the gifts I've left behind
Fairies and friends
poem by Justin Gildow
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When I was only three I planted a tree
When I was three I planted a tree. This was my tree and together we would always be. I gave it love and it to me, and so we were happy, me and my tree.
Then one day they came to see me and my tree. Men with no faces, and they said to me, you must go, and leave this tree.
Buy why I ask. For we've done no harm. Me and my tree, please let us be.
So they left us alone, me and my tree, but only for a while but I could not see.
Then one day they came and took me away. My tree was needed to save the day. Goods it will make it makes perfect sense. So we will take this tree, for wood we need. And so it was done, they took my tree.
And now I look around, my tree I no longer see. Taken from, this tree I planted when I was three.
poem by Brad Milner
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Editing Same Path
I HAVE walked upon this path
alone
and that was years ago
when i still cry
water the pebbles with tears
they do not grow
flowers
there are no trees there
One day
I come down from the clouds
since i am heavy with
rain in my
heart and decide to
walk back the path
of stones
I have seeds of clouds in my pocket
rainbow shoots in my hands
The path have since then
bloomed with dew
and vapors rise to the skies
in prayers
Trees grow and
bees pollinate
a new world is born
since then
and children come and play
their games
again
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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