En.Citatepedia^®.ro

The Least You Expect It

it is at the time when you least expect it
that things happen in your life
that people come to you

for help.
bad luck, and events come bringing
you all the regrets.

mosquitoes and ants, and termites,
and snakes...

imagine, butterflies and birds and bees and flowers.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Tree of Life

Dandy youthful summer step in.................
flowers delighted.
birds, butterflies,
bees and hornets fly for delicacy.
seasons change as usual
never try to stop them.
Autumn comes in a faint shadowy trace
and ripen fruits vanished.
flowers no more, birds and butterflies too.
faded leaves falling one by one.
the skeleton tree stands alone
and facing the bitter reality.

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Imagine the World

Imagine the world ……………………….
Imagine the world without wars…
Imagine the world without your laws
Imagine your life without fear
Imagine your eyes without a tear
Imagine all men were real men
Imagine…imagine…imagine…
Imagine life without hate
Imagine you knew your own fate
Imagine all children were happy
Imagine all nations were free
What would life be like?
Imagine no-one were blind
Imagine all the woes behind
Imagine…….imagine……..imagine….
Imagi ne earth were flat
Imagine man without a heart
Imagine the day without light
Imagine the dark without the night
Imagine……….imagine……imagine……
Imagine faces without a smile
Imagine birds without a nightingale
Imagine …imagine…imagine
What would life be like?

poem by Bouche Cousue
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I Cannot See

I cannot see the flowers
if you're not with me.
I cannot even smell them.
Their perfume is lost on me.

I cannot see the birds fly
if you're not with me.
Their wingless flight escapes
along with their melody.

I cannot see the butterflies
if you're not with me.
The beauty of their colors
are only a memory

of when I saw all these things
and love was in full bloom
when the flowers, birds and butterflies
lifted my lonely gloom.

poem by Edwina Reizer
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Early morning when the first rays fall (pantoum)

Early morning when the first rays fall,
when the sun hangs blood red
this part of the universe recall,
in moments of awakening that has been acquired.

When the sun hangs blood red,
birds twitter with the songs they sing
in moments of awakening that has been acquired
as the good news of the morning that they bring.

Birds twitter with the songs they sing,
to and thro insects and bees fly
as the good news of the morning that they bring,
with butterflies rocking on flowers under the blue sky.

To and thro insects and bees fly,
the buds of morning glories open to the sun,
with butterflies rocking on flowers under the blue sky,
ants in brigades begin their daily fun.

The buds of morning glories open to the sun
early morning when the first rays fall,
ants in brigades begin their daily fun
in moments of awakening that has been acquired

poem by Gert Strydom
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07. Love, what is Love?

love, oh what is love?
flowers in so many shapes and hues
giving sweetness to butterflies and bees
in so many shapes and hues
in the field, a buzz, a joy, these insects
help create another world
another paradise, warm colourful flower garden
for lovers of the world
help spread cheers everywhere
with the sweetness the flowers
where the flowers are, the butterflies, the bees are
where there is love, joy spreads
wide as the field
just look at the butterflies and the bees
how they cheer up the field with their songs and dance

poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Goat Hill

Goat Hill

Walking out the door that man told me to go to hell
My son asked mommy where’s Goat Hill
I said I don’t know son it must be through the valley
My son said mommy lets go there
Up to goat hill
I bet it’s on top of the mountain
I bet there is waterfalls, birds, trees, pretty flowers for all the butterflies and honey bees
I said son if we could I’m sure we would
Most definitely go up to goat hill
I’m not ever going to take you where that man said to go
That place is an internal melting pot
And its way to hot
There’s no mountains with snow on top
No waterfalls trees birds butterflies or honey bees in the place that man said to go
Son I know you are good
Some day together I believe we will find the place called Goat Hill
You found somewhere in your mind
Where life is gentle and Kind
Everyday and every night all the time
Son I bet up on Goat Hill we will only see Gods will being done by the Father and the Son

poem by E.Marie AldrichCreasy
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A Child's Even-Song

The sun is weary, for he ran
So far and fast to-day;
The birds are weary, for who sang
So many songs as they?
The bees and butterflies at last
Are tired out, for just think too
How many gardens through the day
Their little wings have fluttered through.
And so, as all tired people do,
They've gone to lay their sleepy heads
Deep deep in warm and happy beds.
The sun has shut his golden eye
And gone to sleep beneath the sky,
The birds and butterflies and bees
Have all crept into flowers and trees,
And all lie quiet, still as mice,
Till morning comes-like father's voice.

So Geoffrey, Owen, Phyllis, you
Must sleep away till morning too.
Close little eyes, down little heads,
And sleep-sleep-sleep in happy beds.

poem by Richard Le Gallienne
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Socially An Accepted Activity

Does it really make a difference,
If carpenter ants or termites...
Are responsbile for the effects,
Of a crumbling structure known?
Both can gnaw galleries,
In dead or decayed wood.
Termites are often pale colored,
And live in colonies.
Maybe because they are called white ants...
And the carpenter ones are black.
Perhaps that is the reason,
When they destroy with ultimate devastation...
It is socially an accepted activity,
Than 'if' their presence had been of color.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Something About The Girl Called Spring (Sonnet Corona)

I

Just after winter you are back enchanting
with unfolding blossoms on hot sunny days
playing your roles in all your beautiful ways
as if every day is a grand setting

with colours and smells alluring, inviting
man, animals and insects to stray
in orchards, gardens and in the veldt to play
wherever you may be wandering

while insects and birds sing sweet melodies,
even the breeze is charming
in the season that you bequeath
that becomes a time of sweet memories
while everywhere life is swarming;
flowers are as fragrant as your breath.

II

Flowers are as fragrant as your breath
and outside the sun does shine
where flowers and insects ephemeral awaits death
living just as small specs of the will divine.

There are tales about flowers and butterflies that you tell,
about all the minute things, before the first shadows fall
but you have to mention the Creator as well
who fathered everything, created all.

His gardens fill the earth in sheer exuberance
while in summer and spring, in daylight hours
bees, butterflies and birds dance
around the fragrant flowers

in their winged flight,
from early twilight.

III

From early twilight
you are everywhere sent
until the dark night
for the whole world’s enjoyment

and flowering fair
you dance along
without a moment to spare
singing a cheerful song

as a seasonal creature being sweet,
dressed very serene
dancing with fairly like feet
as the essence of the productive machine

and nature everywhere tells,
spring is awaking in smells.

IV

Spring is awaking in smells
with birds singing
rising from the valleys and dells,
sounding in joy about the beauty she is bringing

even every bird, deer and bee,
as the blessings have come
as a time of tranquillity to some
until all of nature is happy and free

when love is finally finding its home
and spring is especially dear to me,
in the air above there’s a vibrant hue
as if it’s a living kind of blue

specked with flocks of birds in their flight;
spring is dressed in white.

V

Spring is dressed in white,
dressed for her wedding day,
when she blesses wherever her flowers stray
in celebration in every day and night

while she dances from early morning light
inviting all her guests, the birds and bees to play,
while she lingers everything is gay
in colours jubilant and bright

with butterflies filling the air,
humming yellow and black bees,
even joined by flying birds that in joy sing
roaming among the almond, peach and pear,
flying to and fro from the blue gum trees
in the unfolding of spring.

VI

In the unfolding of spring
it came to my mind
the words, the deeds and every thing,
of the troublesome kind

that man does to his fellow human beings
as if he is inclined
to act only to his own interest without any feelings,
as if so designed

but around me the new awakenings
are totally unrestrained
in days and evenings
with beauty that is gained

while everywhere flowers are rising,
I long for an eternal spring’s blessing.

VII

I long for an eternal spring’s blessing
as if the Godly plan
in a place where everything is living,
is still in effect for man,

where the songs of birds through the hubbub ring
as if the singing birds are right here
bringing pleasure to everything
making existing so sweet and sincere,

as if from the very beginning
the Lord God was near,
even before human beings were sinning
when these joyous songs fall on the ear:
.
with all of the love that God is granting,
just after winter you are back enchanting.

poem by Gert Strydom
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On the open plain (Catena Rondo)

Some flowers rise up bright from tiny seeds,
blooms appear with heads searching for the sun;
on this earth so it's been since time begun,
some flowers rise up bright from tiny seeds,

blooms appear with heads searching for the sun
they rejoice over a day that is new
are fresh with the glistening morning dew;
blooms appear with heads searching for the sun

they rejoice over a day that is new
as bees and butterflies flutter along
birds do sing the happiest kind of song
they rejoice over a day that is new,

as bees and butterflies flutter along
wild deer graze at the soft tender green grass
while they in massive herds do slowly pass
as bees and butterflies flutter along

wild deer graze at the soft tender green grass
some flowers rise up bright from tiny seeds
grow to strength in a world full of big weeds,
wild deer graze at the soft tender green grass,

some flowers rise up bright from tiny seeds,
blooms appear with heads searching for the sun;
on this earth so it's been since time begun,
some flowers rise up bright from tiny seeds.

poem by Gert Strydom
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Stinging Reply - 1915 - to Ogden Nash The Termite, Harry Graham Ruthless Rhymes and Hilaire Belloc

When termites knocked upon ants' door
they thought to conquer larval store;
how lucky vicious fire ant queen
nested above poor Auntie Jean,
for when upon the latter's bed
it fell and stung her quick and dead.
Her Will, found sound, Judge Jonas swore
that I'd inherit more and more!

From this one may gay moral glean,
auspicious chance and pastures green
fall to man mean who plans ahead,
blind termites leads to where ants bred.

(9 September 2009)

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Please Don’t Take Our Sunshine Away

Please don’t take our sunshine away,

For our flowers need their sunshine

Like our trees and plants too.

And all the animals need to wake up so they know what they are to do.

Our toy factories are run by sunlight,

And so does our big crystal clock too,

To tell us when a doll is to be made in a magical crystal cave.

The sun warms our hearts and all the birds in the trees.

And all of the butterflies and the yellow bumble bees.

So as the Krendoll dolls we will fight till we have our way,

To make Krendoll island filled with sunlight once again.

We need to bring back birthdays once again,

By making clocks tell time, bringing birthdays songs back with rhyme,

From beautiful sounding chimes.

Bringing back presents with bows and birthday cakes that glow.

Copyright 1995 Suzae Chevalier

poem by Suzae Chevalier
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Surprises 2

Life is filled with surprises
and I have had my fair share of them.

Imagine going to a friend’s funeral
and months down the line,
you end up marrying his widow.
Yes, that has happened to me.

Imagine after fifty-six years
discovering you had a brother
you never knew you had.
Yes, that has happened to me.

Imagine going to school with someone
you never remember speaking to
and then fifty-one years later
they become your best friend.
Yes, that has happened to me.

Imagine this friend
introducing you to a friend of theirs
and between them both
turn your life around.
Yes, that has happened to me.

Surprises happen when you least expect them,
they can happen anytime anywhere.
You can never predict when they will occur,
they just happen for a reason,
a reason for which we are never sure.
However, never turn your back on them;
count them as a blessing
that might never come again.

5 October 2009

poem by David Harris
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Do Not Sleep Yet...

do not sleep yet
for i am sad and like all the sad people of this world
i need a little time
to keep me company

talk
talk to me
whatever that be
i may listen and look at every word that you utter
as some butterflies or bees
or flowers on the foot of those green hills
breasts of some mountains
thighs of some river banks
soft hands of the creeks
bellies of the valleys

i want to imagine the anatomy of nature
like they are all naked women
and you shall think of me as the lusting sun
licking all those
tasting everyone

do not sleep yet
i need to look at your words as flowers
for now my intentions are honest
pure as gold without the bones
of adulteration

soft and yellow
shaped by the gentleness of your hands

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Please Don't Say Any Word

what happened during the night was strictly between us
let the stars and the moon be our witnesses
when the morning comes with a break of some news
let that be not about us
please do not say any word for the birds and the flowers
these things are matters of the bees
let not even the ants know or the earthworms
or the snails and the clams of the rivers and seas

please do not say any word, It is enough that both of us
keep the secrets of our past joys and present pains

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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
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November

No sun - no moon!
No morn - no noon -
No dawn - no dusk - no proper time of day.
No warmth, no cheerfulness, no healthful ease,
No comfortable feel in any member -
No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees,
No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no birds! -
November!

poem by Thomas Hood
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No sun - no moon! No morn - no noon -
No dawn - no dusk - no proper time of day.
No warmth, no cheerfulness, no healthful ease,
No comfortable feel in any member -
No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees,
No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no birds,
November!

Thomas Hood in No!
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Earth Awakes

Now that the snow has melted,
The rivers flow wildly and sing,
The birds chirp in melody,
And the birth of spring begins.
Flowers slowly waken,
Stretching towards the sun,
Baby Dragonflies, bees and butterflies,
Oh yes! Spring has begun.
Tree's swaying back and forth with life,
Birds singing, playing a flirty game of tag,
Mating season's soon approaching,
Ah! Spring is here at last.

poem by Annalee Hopkins
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People Expect Too Much From Me

aug,11,2010

people expect me to be perfect,
because i'm smart,
people expect me to get good grades,
because of all the hard work i put in,
people expect me to have my own business,
because i can be talented and creative,
people expect me to be a push over,
rather than a girl who speaks her mind,
people expect me to be something i'm not,
but all i can be is only myself,
people expect me to deal with life,
i can only deal with it the best i can,
people expect me to handle more than i can,
but who is it really for or what do i have to prove?
people expect me to be who they want,
but did they ever stop to think of what i wanted?

poem by Mona Martinez
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