The Croton Plant
I picked a seed on my way side
From a worthy yard of a lord
And put it safe in my lonely heart.
I watered it with love and passion.
I warmed it with care and concern.
A hard coated, it took long to burst.
Under the shade, it struggled to emerge.
By rain of lust and draught of guilt
Was the plant beset but not upset.
It grew to a bush with the entire blush.
Came in the spring; Went out the Spring.
No bloom. No blossom. No flower.
Yet leaves are rosy like petals.
A croton as it is, I shall harbour it.
For its colourful leaves at least.
1.10.2000, Madras
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Leaves Compared with Flowers
A tree's leaves may be ever so good,
So may its bar, so may its wood;
But unless you put the right thing to its root
It never will show much flower or fruit.
But I may be one who does not care
Ever to have tree bloom or bear.
Leaves for smooth and bark for rough,
Leaves and bark may be tree enough.
Some giant trees have bloom so small
They might as well have none at all.
Late in life I have come on fern.
Now lichens are due to have their turn.
I bade men tell me which in brief,
Which is fairer, flower or leaf.
They did not have the wit to say,
Leaves by night and flowers by day.
Leaves and bar, leaves and bark,
To lean against and hear in the dark.
Petals I may have once pursued.
Leaves are all my darker mood.
poem by Robert Frost
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I love you for any part you offer.
Dear Clove, I love you
though your love to me is as bud.
Dear Rose, I adore you
though your love for me is as petals.
Dear Cherry, I cherish you
for all your love of berry.
Dear Poppy, I am happy
with you, for your love as seed.
Dear Croton, you too I love
Though your love is only leaves.
Every plant is of my love
as I know their limitation.
I don’t expect that
I woo each plant to seeding.
I confine myself to the availability,
From where I draw my sensibilities.
I live and plants live.
The love is not scorched mid way.
03.05.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Flower of Leaves
The Flower of Leaves, does not speak, nor sing!
She breathes intensly and plays on sweet strings
The Flower of Leaves, in spring, does not bloom,
She hangs in the heat and weeps low in gloom
The Flower of Leaves, shrouds mis'ry and pain,
Yet exudes in song warm swelling disdain
The Flower of Leaves, shades but one pale green,
Yet blossoms 'neath moonlight in silv'ry gleam
She relieves, and like Great Nature, serene,
In stormless gardens passes through unseen
Sublime as rainfall, sincere as the sea,
O Heaven, such life that blooms before me!
Who only knows that which my heart believes,
In such mystique of The Flower of Leaves!
poem by Iam notThou
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The Nurturing Seed
Taking life and love for granted,
It's simply wrong and greatly slanted,
For there is beauty all around,
Look carefully and you'll see what you've found.
As Spring turns to Summer,
The green of the meadows burst,
Giving hope to every comer,
As the lost ones are nursed
By those who have found it,
Whatever it may be, that quells the need,
To cry, to die, to move on or to quit,
As summer vanishes, they plant a seed.
Autumn continues, the seed still young,
Little do you know, it will soon be yours,
From trees, leaves fall from where they hung,
Your heart opens as do the doors
For winter has arrived, and now you realise,
The duty they performed in early Spring,
Helped the dark cease, and the sun rise
In your heart, and lessen loves cruel sting.
But now that mentor you truly admired,
Is gone in figure but not in truth,
For it was they who really inspired,
The message they gave to you at youth.
Spring returns to its full height,
And with the knowledge of your mentor,
You pick a lost one and without a fight,
Plant a seed to reach their centre.
That is why you never question,
The beauty and love of your mentor,
For they will be gone, and by succession,
You must be their heart, their centre.
poem by Daniel Sims
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Symbol
The winter apples have been picked, the garden turned.
Rain and wind have picked the maple leaves and gone.
The last of them now bank the house or have been burned.
None are left upon the trees or on the lawn.
Green and tall as ever it grew in spring the grass
Grows not too tall, will not be cut again this year.
Geraniums in bloom behind the windowglass
Are safe. Fall has fallen yet winter is not yet here.
How warm the late November sun although how wan.
The white house stands a symbol of fulfillment there,
Housing one old woman, a cat, and one old man
After abundance but before the earth is bare.
poem by Robert Francis
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The Seed
In the spring
when the air has warmed.
I
planted a seed
a tiny seed.
I
along with my faith
to Mother Earth entrusted it.
I
hoped she would
nourish and coax the blossom
hidden within that seed so small.
To
spring forth in the summertime
with
its beauty its fragrance.
That all may behold and enjoy.
Until
autumn time
when back it returns
to a seed to sleep
to wait.
To be reborn.
poem by Kurt Hearth
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Ode to the Plum Blossom
Wind and rain escorted Spring's departure,
Flying snow welcomes Spring's return.
On the ice-clad rock rising high and sheer
A flower blooms sweet and fair.
Sweet and fair, she craves not Spring for herself alone,
To be the harbinger of Spring she is content.
When the mountain flowers are in full bloom
She will smile mingling in their midst.
Outside the post-house, beside the broken bridge, Alone, deserted, a flower blooms.
Saddened by her solitude in the falling dusk,
She is now assailed by wind and rain.
Let other flowers be envious!
She craves not Spring for herself alone.
Her petals may be ground in the mud,
But her fragrance will endure.
poem by Mao Zedong
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On this day of Spring Original by Rabindranath Tagore
So many flowers bloom
On this day of Spring
So many flutes are played
So many birds sing
On this day of Spring
On this day of Spring
My friend's heart is as soft
As a little flower
Whose negligence makes it
So terribly suffer
Why do you come to her
And try to make her laugh
The one who used to come
Now doesn't care enough
So many flowers bloom
On this day of Spring
So many flutes are played
So many birds sing
On this day of Spring
On this day of Spring
God please keep the happy
People always happy
And let the Spring season
Of joy pass by smoothly
God don't let the happy
People see her in tears
Since they overlook her
And want to live in cheers
So many flowers bloom
On this day of Spring
So many flutes are played
So many birds sing
On this day of Spring
On this day of Spring
poem by Asif Andalib
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Pink Flower
Pink flower is beautiful
Always so much of anything
Playfully and never dull
As it is inside spring
Tenderly moments to bring on
To every summer night
Until its blossom is gone
With beautiful pinkish bright
Pink flower is like you
With all your loving touch
So much to make and do
If you are in love so much
Nothing is all like this
On to the blue light dark
With new spring dawn bliss
Shades of the petal spark
Fragrances in the air
Full of new summer high
Touching blossom everywhere
In the hours going by
Just like a love to come
When love touches heart
Flowering passion blossom
Now in these days will start
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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Foresight
Some sweet peas still defy the frost.
A battle which will soon be lost,
Though they have battled valiantly
they can’t defeat their enemy.
Which kills each blossom one by one.
Quite soon the last one will be gone.
I pick the seed pods to be dried
and store them safe and warm inside.
When spring returns I will prepare
their seed bed with the greatest care
I will ensure it is weed free
and I will feed it thoroughly.
Before I plant my precious seed
So I am sure they will succeed.
and in due course produce for me
their pretty blooms abundantly.
20-Nov-07
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Be inner rich
O flowers! You can have colourful petals.
More than that must there be enough nectar.
Moths come to you expecting in you nectar.
Otherwise they stay with you no longer.
Women! Enrich your heart.
01.10.2000, Madras
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Flower of Love
'Tis said the rose is Love's own flower,
Its blush so bright, its thorns so many;
And winter on its bloom has power,
But has not on its sweetness any.
For though young Love's ethereal rose
Will droop on Age's wintry bosom,
Yet still its faded leaves disclose
The fragrance of their earliest blossom.
But ah! the fragrance lingering there
Is like the sweets that mournful duty
Bestows with sadly-soothing care,
To deck the grave of bloom and beauty.
For when its leaves are shrunk and dry,
Its blush extinct, to kindle never,
That fragrance is but Memory's sigh,
That breathes of pleasures past for ever.
Why did not Love the amaranth choose,
That bears no thorns, and cannot perish ?
Alas! no sweets its flowers diffuse,
And only sweets Love's life can cherish.
But be the rose and amaranth twined,
And Love, their mingled powers assuming,
Shall round his brows a chaplet bind,
For ever sweet, for ever blooming.
poem by Thomas Love Peacock
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The Rose
Some say love it is a river
That drowns the tender reed.
Some say love it is a razor
That leaves your soul to bleed.
Some say love it is a hunger
An endless, aching need
I say love it is a flower,
And you its only seed.
Its the heart afraid of breaking
That never learns to dance
Its the dream afraid of waking
That never takes the chance
Its the one who wont be taken,
Who cannot seem to give
And the soul afraid of dying
That never learns to live.
And the night has been too lonely
And the road has been too long.
And you think that love is only
For the lucky and the strong.
Just remember in the winter
Far beneath the bitter snow
Lies the seed that with the suns love,
In the spring, becomes a rose.
song performed by by LeAnn Rimes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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April Flower
Bloom for me,
My April flower.
Show your beauty,
I'll take a gander.
The wind scatters your scent
Giving me the feeling of heaven.
You're the perfection i've dreamt,
The one that i've chosen.
Bloom for me,
My April Flower,
And let me see,
Your petals that matches no other.
I know you're not mine
And you did not grew for me
I can only see you again this time
Unable to resist fate's cruelty.
Bloom for me,
My April Flower,
Though we're not destined to be,
Stay in my heart and take shelter.
In my heart, you will not wilt,
You will eternally bloom..
Even if i am burdened by this guilt,
and love is my certained doom.
Bloom for me for the last time,
At least i can call this moment mine
Ignore my reasons that doesn't rhyme,
Show me your beauty that i can't define.
Bloom..for all eternity..April Flower.
poem by John Paul Ang
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Autumn Falling Leaves
When all have been and gone away,
Like leaves from green to amber orange,
Falling down and to decay,
Is the time for all in nature to fall,
And the leaves on the trees show it all,
Autumn and its falls of fall,
Where all the branches have dropped their leaves,
All have gone except the evergreens,
Showing signs to us that live among,
Four seasons weather,
Where Autumn is,
Just like in life,
When full circle of life is known,
A start in spring where buds appear,
Then in summer full bloom trees will be,
Hence, fall shows all,
When nature falls,
Begining another season,
Winter and chill tempetures,
Where nature decays,
And leaves do fall,
To generate again,
Renewing its life,
Come spring again,
Untill then,
Autumn sheads its leaves of blossom and blooms,
And soon again autumn begins,
From new to old,
And then old to new,
Buds in spring and leaves of green,
Showing birth from what did decayed,
And brought forth from,
What was bear on the trees,
From where beneath was where once,
Those Autumn falling leaves.
poem by Ellen Ni Bheachain
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Spring and Rain Dancing Together
Spring has sprung
As I hear the pitter patters of rain
And the aroma of my lovely roses
As I stand out side
The wet cold rain taps my head
Then I do the rain dance
To the powerful almighty rain
I stay out side
And pick a blossom
For I love spring
It is awesome
As the day comes to an end
I stay outside to send
A message that
“I love spring” Poem Writer,
By: Jackie Thielman
poem by Jackie Thielman
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The Story of My Flower
Born a lovely flower
Watered with fresh water during rainy seasons
Sprinkled with just enough during the droughts
The flower lived to blossom
With scented petals and green leaves
in a pot so large to take all it could bear.
One sunny day
the pot with the flower was shifted
shifted to a completely new location
where it was deprived of the sunlight
and the abundance of water.
Necessary it was
A new start in a life supposedly so complete.
Time went by
Nevertheless, the flower continued blooming
The petals now larger
The scent even more appealing
The flower survived even without the bare necessities.
The now sensitive flower
Soon attracted the eyes of predators
A simple glance to start with
Then became a soft touch
Followed by multiples of rough care.
Soon the flower started to lose its shape and form
Being given insufficient supply of water
Inappropriate fertilizers
And most of all the wrong attention.
At last it withered
After long hours of torture
Long days of loneliness
and years of abundance
it turned yellow, then brown
Finally, what remained was just a lifeless stem
standing in an old dirty pot.
poem by Alexandra Isnard
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Reminiscing Under A Tree
Under this shade where love once bloom
Lies part of me that's now been lost
And now, found in my thoughts of gloom
Where lonesome pain exacts its cost
The heart and arrow carved in bark
Bring back the days of sunlit bliss
When we would sing as one, like lark
Than be as thieves stealing a kiss
The leaves that fell meant time had passed
Since they'd been fresh before the clash
Leaves collected like dreams amassed
Down in the ground burnt down like trash
A sprout can find a twig whereto it cleaves
As love might bloom again this Spring
Which comes as soon as Winter leaves
When soon I'll find new songs to sing.
poem by Reyvrex Questor Reyes
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Meditations after Li Po for M lady Helen
I
I follow in the footsteps
of old poets of the past.
As geese fly south in autumn.
Instinct is my only guide.
My attempts to emulate,
may not bear such worthy fruit.
I can only do my best
II
The trees discard all their leaves
and face winter nakedly.
I ask myself why this should be
but I receive no reply.
Winter winds pass freely through
the leafless twigs and branches.
Dead leaves return to the earth.
III
The trees stand as sentinels
coated with white bitter frost
Bowing in submission
to the power of the wind.
Better to bend than to break,
the trees know instinctively
the wind dies as spring returns.
IV
Only when the time is right
the geese will return once more.
The trees will put forth new leaves,
flowers spring up underfoot
The spring sunshine will inspire
Poets to take up their brush
and ink: To write poetry.
21-Oct-07
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Spring Lovers
Love comes like a rose-vine clinging upward
Grasping for that first cool breeze of spring air
With a kiss of sunrise to its beauty’s reward
Fragrance burst out from its eminent bud’s lair.
When withered tree stands upon winter’s bliss,
And a snow shimmers on its branches’ content,
Love comes in spring for new leaves then to hiss,
Till this season’s course breakthrough its intent
When castles of clouds assent playful birds
Glide high and low beyond their leafy shrines
And the sunset’s amber blush oceans’ greens,
Spring is from the hearts of many sky’s herds
When the prairie cast its colors from the distant,
Unfold their leaves to dance with the windward,
And the cattle begins to sheave in a wide verdant
Spring spread love to the land of the shepherd
When the sun gives the moon a tranquil light
To the faintest stars throughout sky’s height
And the wind chimes playing a great harmony
Under the moon is where spring lovers stay
poem by Efren Petalver Carranza
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