En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Of unknown beauties

Known beauties enthrall, no doubt.
Unknown beauties can still more.
Beauties accessible are cheap.
Beauties beyond access are high.
29.01.2003

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Beauties You Have Given

LORD you hold my heart in your hand
of my life you're in command.
you've been with me from my birth
teaching and guiding me so that i can see
all the beauties that you have given me.

i turn and look all around
of beauties lost and beauties found.
the beauty of the sunrise in the early hours
the openings of all the flowers.

the smells of the grass ever so green
and everything else in between.
the oceans, the rivers, the mountaintops too
all of this was made by you.

the animals, the plants, and crops galore
is everything that we've been searching for.

we have food to eat and water to drink.
we even have a bathroom sink.

we have roofs over our heads to keep us dry
if off our butts we get up to try.
we see new life spring up every day
in every form and every way.

watching the reflections of the sun upon the waters
and the sands upon the beach
and boys and girls jumping into it
finding a bit of relief

these are just a few of the beauties that i see
and i'm sure that you have seen
just as much as me.

enjoy all the beauties that surround our lives
and if your with the one you love
then it's twice as nice.

poem by Louis Rams
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Terse Verse

Terse little verse, gold from beauties purse
In my soul thou so give
And on its worth my life I live
Terse little verse, gold from beauties purse
Love is a morsel of thine treasure
In one ounce is my immense pleasure
Terse little verse, gold from beauties purse
Sing like a muse
and in poetry fuse
my soul into verse from beauties purse

poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Beauties of the world

Beauties unheard are numerous.
The heard are such as Helen of Troy,
Sakuntala and Cleopatra.

Beauties unseen are countless.
Those seen are such as Aiswraya Roy,
Jacqueline Kennedy and Marlin Monroe.

Beauties untouched are numberless.
The touched are such as the spouse,
The beloved ones and harlots.

Ability to see beauty
In women and get obsessed with it
Is the prerogative of man.

[ Sakuntala is a character in a Sanskrit play by same name by the poet, Kalidasa ]
25.01.2012

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Pride Of Africa

I can hear and see clear
I can see the signs of cascading black waterfalls
Drizzling our soil with dazzling beauties
Charming sight to behold like a bouncing breast
Beauty in black
Beauty so unique
And beauty second to none
I can hear and see clear
A beauty best known to the diamond merchants
Not to the lay man who easily pick on street
I can hear and see clear
A sound of beating black drums
And a singing of a dulcet black voice
Coming from gently all the sides
Like cold gentle breezes blowing
from atlantic ocean
So cool and gentle
A black beauty carefully composed in black
Sparking lightenings across the globe
Just a bright-black skin and a green soil
As agents of beauties that brighten the world
It is nature's gifts that can't be changed
Beauties of intelligents
Beauties of creativities
And beauties of cultures
That is black in beauty
A beauty beaming even in the dark
For all to see and to believe
For all to taste and appreciate
That is black beauty
The prides of Africa....

¤NTA! !
(30/july/2012)
11: 41 - 11: 58

poem by Naseeru Taneemu Annuree
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The past and the future have no bearings.

How many beauties have lived!
How many wonders have happened!
How many inventions and ruins!
This is before my birth took place.

How many beauties would arrive!
How many wonders would happen!
How many inventions and ruins!
This is after my death takes place.

I live and leave unaffected
By the time past and future.
10.01.2010

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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My Daughter

you are my daughter, my everything.
you mean more than the world to me.

you captured my heart at your birth
and removed all my inner hurt.

you softened my heart to the
beauties of the world.
you are my little girl.

you are the one who set me free
and made a man/woman out of me.

you showed me that responsibility
was buried deep inside of me.

you showed me the beauties
that a daughter could bring

and taught my heart how to sing.

poem by Louis Rams
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The Questions

In a dream GOD asked me:
What does life mean to you?
I came up with the answer that
Most would normally say and do.
“ THE FIVE SENSES”
But that’s not true!

Living and enjoying the beauties
That GOD has provided to us.
The sun, the stars, the oceans, the moon
The grass, the trees,
And his lips as he kisses us
In a soft gentle breeze.

The love that he has given us
To share with all the rest
The beauties inside of us
Which is his very best.

The strength inside of us to smile
Laugh, joke, and play
This is with us every day.
Then he gave us a mind to use
We could use it if we choose.

Then another question he put to me:
How would you live, if with all
These things, I did not give?

I thought about this long and hard.

‘ there would be nothing that we could do
If we chose not to follow you. ‘

poem by Louis Rams
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The itching truths are ignored

Poets wrote volumes
About flowers and blossoms
But were mute in their praise
For fruits and seeds,
Which give more charm.

Poets wrote reams
About the spring and its warmth
But did rare in their concern
For the summer and its dampness,
Which touches deeper senses.

Poets wrote tonnes
About the beauties of spinsters
But were silent to picture
Beauties of wives and mothers,
Who display more lustre.

They dare not write the real
That are itching to readers
00.04.97, Agartala

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Elegy over a Tomb

Must I then see, alas, eternal night
Sitting upon those fairest eyes,
And closing all those beams, which once did rise
So radiant and bright
That light and heat in them to us did prove
Knowledge and love?

Oh, if you did delight no more to stay
Upon this low and earthly stage,
But rather chose an endless heritage,
Tell us at least, we pray,
Where all the beauties that those ashes ow'd
Are now bestow'd.

Doth the sun now his light with yours renew?
Have waves the curling of your hair?
Did you restore unto the sky and air
The red, and white, and blue?
Have you vouchsaf'd to flowers since your death
That sweetest breath?

Had not heav'n's lights else in their houses slept,
Or to some private life retir'd?
Must not the sky and air have else conspir'd,
And in their regions wept?
Must not each flower else the earth could breed,
Have been a weed?

But thus enrich'd may we not yield some cause
Why they themselves lament no more?
That must have chang'd the course they held before,
And broke their proper laws,
Had not your beauties giv'n this second birth
To heaven and earth.

Tell us (for oracles must still ascend
For those that crave them at your tom ,
Tell us where are those beauties now become,
And what they now intend;
Tell us, alas, that cannot tell our grief,
Or hope relief.

poem by Edward Herbert
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Our Future Generation

Life picked up its ugly head, and all you see
Is the scars from wars, murders, suicides
Torture, hurt and pain.
Life is not a bed of roses in which we could lay.
It is painful in every way.
We see and hear of the ugliness 24/7
But we do not live it 24/7.
I know it will not disappear in our lifetime.
But I like to think that with GOD, love, faith, and education
We have a chance for some type of
Peace for the future generation.
The LORD does give us a reprieve from the ugliness
To enjoy all his beauties.
So this is to our:

FUTURE GENERATIONS.

Enjoy the beauties of the day
For you don’t know what may come your way.
Take your time to smell the flowers
And inhale those aromatic powers
look at the trees in the ground
and enjoy the soft gentle breeze that goes around.

Take a child for a walk- sit on a park bench and just talk.
Walk in the sand on the beaches
Explain about the oceans and all it teaches.
Show them the beauties in the sky
Let them ask questions as to how and why.
Let them see our majestic mountains
Hidden caves, rivers, streams, and fountains.
Show them the animals and birds of our lands
Explain to them, so they’ll understand.
It is true! That there is ugliness all around
But there are also beauties to be found.

The beauties of life being created
What a wonderful, fantastic, spiritual inspiration,
What about the moon and stars up in the skies
Lighting up the darkness for you and I.
It matters not of your gender
But to love you must surrender.
Love is the key to peace in every land
So we must learn to take a stand.

If we show that only
ugliness will survive
then love will surely die.

So to the future generations
This I must say: ugliness is here to stay.
How would you be able to compare
If there was nothing to compare it to.
Bur GOD knew just what to do.

He made everything in twos
Male, female- rich, poor - happiness, sadness
Love, hate - and everything he done
Is completely great.

poem by Louis Rams
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Sonnet 82: Nymph Of The Garden

Nymph of the garden where all beauties be,
Beauties which do in excellency pass
His who till death look'd in a wat'ry glass,
Or hers, whom naked the Trojan boy did see;

Sweet garden nymph, which keeps the cherry tree
Whose fruit doth far th'Hesperian taste surpass;
Most sweet-fair, most fair-sweet, do not alas,
From coming near those cherries banish me:

For though full of desire, empty of wit,
Admitted late by your best-graced Grace,
I caught at one of them a hungry bit,

Pardon that fault. Once more grant me the place
And I do swear e'en by the same delight,
I will but kiss, I never more will bite.

poem by Philip Sidney
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The Scrutinie

I.

Why shouldst thou sweare I am forsworn,
Since thine I vow'd to be?
Lady, it is already Morn,
And 'twas last night I swore to thee
That fond impossibility.

II.

Have I not lov'd thee much and long,
A tedious twelve moneths space?
I should all other beauties wrong,
And rob thee of a new imbrace;
Should I still dote upon thy face.

III.

Not but all joy in thy browne haire
In others may be found;
But I must search the black and faire,
Like skilfulle minerallists that sound
For treasure in un-plow'd-up ground.

IV.

Then if, when I have lov'd my round,
Thou prov'st the pleasant she;
With spoyles of meaner beauties crown'd,
I laden will returne to thee,
Ev'n sated with varietie.

poem by Richard Lovelace
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The Scrutinie. Song

I.
Why shouldst thou sweare I am forsworn,
Since thine I vow'd to be?
Lady, it is already Morn,
And 'twas last night I swore to thee
That fond impossibility.

II.
Have I not lov'd thee much and long,
A tedious twelve moneths space?
I should all other beauties wrong,
And rob thee of a new imbrace;
Should I still dote upon thy face.

III.
Not but all joy in thy browne haire
In others may be found;
But I must search the black and faire,
Like skilfulle minerallists that sound
For treasure in un-plow'd-up ground.

IV.
Then if, when I have lov'd my round,
Thou prov'st the pleasant she;
With spoyles of meaner beauties crown'd,
I laden will returne to thee,
Ev'n sated with varietie.

poem by Richard Lovelace
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When, Dearest, I But Think On Thee

When, dearest, I but think on thee,
Methinks all things that lovely be
Are present, and my soul delighted:
For beauties that from worth arise
Are like the grace of deities,
Still present with us, though unsighted.

Thus while I sit and sigh the day
With all his spreading lights away,
Till night's black wings do overtake me:
Thinking on thee, thy beauties then,
As sudden lights do sleeping men,
So they by their bright rays awake me.

Thus absence dies, and dying proves
No absence can consist with loves
That do partake of fair perfection:
Since in the darkest night they may
By their quick motion find a way
To see each other by reflection.

The waving sea can with such flood
Bathe some high palace that hath stood
Far from the main up in the river:
Oh think not then but love can do
As much, for that's an ocean too,
That flows not every day, but ever.

poem by Owen Felltham
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The Scrutiny

Why should you swear I am forsworn,
Since thine I vowed to be?
Lady, it is already morn,
And 'twas last night I swore to thee
That fond impossibility.

Have I not loved thee much and long,
A tedious twelve hours' space?
I must all other beauties wrong,
And rob thee of a new embrace,
Could I still dote upon thy face.

Not but all joy in thy brown hair
By others may be found;—
But I must search the black and fair,
Like skilful mineralists that sound
For treasure in unploughed-up ground.

Then if, when I have loved my round,
Thou prov'st the pleasant she,
With spoils of meaner beauties crowned
I laden will return to thee,
Ev'n sated with variety.

poem by Richard Lovelace
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Some Days

SOME DAYS I’M TOO TIRED TO BE INSPIRED
AND SOME DAYS I’M QUICK AS A WINK
WHEN I DON’T HAVE TO THINK.
THE THOUGHTS WILL FLOW LIKE WINE IN A GLASS
SHOWING THE PRESENT, FUTURE AND THE PAST.
IT IS NOT REALLY HARD TO DO
IF TO YOURSELF YOU BE TRUE.
LOOK AND LISTEN TO EVERY SIGHT AND SOUND
IT WILL PICK YOU UP AND PUT YOU DOWN.
TO ALL THE BEAUTIES THAT CAN BE FOUND.
PUTTING ALL YOUR THOUGHTS, FEELINGS
AND DREAMS ON PAPER
NOTHING CAN BE MUCH SAFER.
YOU TELL OF STORIES THAT THEY
NEVER HEARD OF, OR DARED TO DREAM
INTO A FEW LINES.
AND IN THEIR MINDS WILL LAST
FOR A VERY LONG TIME.
WHEN THOSE “ SOME DAYS “ COME TO YOU
AND YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO.
SIT AND WRITE JUST A FEW LINES
THEN YOU’LL SEE YOU HAVE THE TIME.
TIME TO ENJOY ALL THE BEAUTIES
THAT SURROUND YOUR LIFE
WITH FAMILY, FRIENDS, HUSBAND AND WIFE.

poem by Louis Rams
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Sonnet 37: My Mouth Doth Water

My mouth doth water, and my breast doth swell,
My tongue doth itch, my thoughts in labor be:
Listen then, lordings, with good ear to me,
For of my life I must a riddle tell.

Toward Aurora's court a nymph doth dwell,
Rich in all beauties which man's eye can see:
Beauties so far from reach of words, that we
Abase her praise, saying she doth excel:

Rich in the treasure of deserv'd renown,
Rich in the riches of a royal heart,
Rich in those gifts which give th'eternal crown;

Who though most rich in these and every part,
Which make the patents of true worldly bliss,
Hath no misfortune, but that Rich she is.

poem by Philip Sidney
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When, Dearest, I But Think of Thee

When, dearest I but think of thee,
Methinks all things that lovely be
Are present, and my soul delighted:
For beauties that from worth arise
Are like the grace of deities,
Still present with us, tho’ unsighted.

Thus while I sit and sigh the day
With all his borrow’d lights away,
Till night’s black wings do overtake me,
Thinking on thee, thy beauties then,
As sudden lights do sleepy men,
So they by their bright rays awake me.

Thus absence dies, and dying proves
No absence can subsist with loves
That do partake of fair perfection:
Since in the darkest night they may
By love’s quick motion find a way
To see each other by reflection.

The waving sea can with each flood
Bathe some high promont that hath stood
Far from the main up in the river:
O think not then but love can do
As much! for that’s an ocean too,
Which flows not every day, but ever!

poem by John Suckling
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Sonnet 5 - I wandered out a while agone,

I wandered out a while agone,
And went I know not whither;
But there do beauties many a one
Resort and meet together,
And Cupid's power will there be shown
If ever you come thither.

For like two suns, two beauties bright
I shining saw together,
And tempted by their double light
My eyes I fixed on either;
Till both at once so thralled my sight,
I loved, and knew not whether.

Such equal sweet Venus gave,
That I preferred not either;
And when for love I thought to crave,
I knew not well of whether,
For one while this I wished to have,
And then I that had liefer.

A lover of the curious't eye
Might have been pleased in either,
And so, I must confess, might I,
Had they not been together.
Now both must love or both deny,
In one enjoy I neither.

But yet at last I 'scaped the smart
I feared at coming hither;
For seeing my divided heart -
I, choosing, knew not whether -
Love angry grew and did depart,
And now I care for neither.

poem by George Wither
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The Most Beautiful Wonder Of All

Take the showers of April
The roses of June
The lazy sun of August
For an October honeymoon

Take the autumn leaves
Turning green to brown
The snows of winter
That will soon cover the ground

Take all these beauties
And the seven wonders of the world
Wrap them and tie them with a bow
So I can give them to my girl

She could shame any wonder
No doubt them all
For she is
The most beautiful wonder of all

(Date written unknown)

poem by David Harris
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