The Fertile Soil
One wants a friend to use him as soil
To sow in and then get a harvest from.
The one who seeks you sees you as soil.
To be a friend you must be the fertile soil.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Related quotes
Soil Is A Soul Of Life
Soil what is soil Lord?
soil is life seed
soil is a living organism
soil is a loom
from which you were made
dust you were dust you will be
Soil what is soil Scientist?
soil is a critical
part
of an ecosystem
soil provides
important nutrients
for plants in
an ecosystem
soil helps
anchor
plants
to keep
plants
in place
soil absorbs
holds water
for plants
soil absorbs
holds water
for animals
lakes rivers
to use
soil provides
a home
for many species
lots of living
organisms
soil
regenerates life
dust you were dust you will be
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Soil Dry Define Vine
soil nutrients
soil soul embodiment
soil fingertips
blood flow wine
hunger allure
siren vine original
soil dry
struggle character
define vine
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Son Of The Soil
Black, strong tatooed by the sun.
He toils and never tires.
He is the son of the soil.
Forget all these fake wana be's! You see today
wanting to be everything they see on tv.
he is the Son of the soil, raised up in the language of the ancetrals.
Taught to hunter and respect the traditions.
Raised up in the secret sacred things of the land.
Spilt his blood in the soil at the riverside at the age of 13.
He knew where his destiny lay at the age of 16.
Had his first encounter at 18.
She was a true daughter of the soil breed well by the women of the land.
Son of the soil taught by the elders the ways of women.
Son of the soil, taught by nature the way to survive.
Son of the soil, taught to endure by the woman he shares his purity with.
Son of the soil,
arise and toil for your destiny calls.
Toil to protect the weak,
to safeguard the rites,
to up root all menace and vallians from the west.
Son of the soil its your time to stand and be heard.
poem by Tigana Chileshe
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Forgotten Fertility Myth
Pranab k c
27/06/2011
a deep depression
carries monsoon again
its raining
five days at a stretch
day and night
she is wet
her chastity
waiting to be ploughed
soil so soft
to be mould in creation
plough hard
my peasant friend
pour dropp to form seed
your personal rain
would make her corny
every dream
of your personal cloud
would make her smile festive
fertile soil seeks seedling
cultivate you the peasant
cultivate hard
cultivate with care
cultivate with unending passion
She waits to bear all the pain
for a pleasure of exposing a life again
poem by Pranab K. Chakraborty
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Fruit of Soil! ! !
Luck is the same
for Man and flower
I think they have
The same birth star.
Flower and man
Man and flower
Start their lives
From lap of soil
Pass through the stages
Of their lives,
Get their nourishment
From the kind soil;
So soil is the mother
Of man and flower
Their start and end
Both are same
Their only difference is
in their names.
But when Time comes
They get withered.
And again lie back
In the soft and kind
Lap of soil…
.
poem by Shahzia Batool
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My Innocent Childhood
soil soil and soil, , playing in the soil,
No fear of disease, no fear of toil.
What a wonderful days that was,
i always remember my childhood, my innocent childhood..
Only friend no foes,
no thinking of what dont and what does.
No fear of future, no thinking of present,
i always remember my childhood, my innocent childhood..
What was the past, leave it, it surpassed,
what has to happen, lets face when it comes.
Future planning! What is this?
i always remember my childhood, my innocent childhood..
Play was religion and play was God,
only thing which gave fear, was my fathers rod.
Crying crying crying a lot, then said love you pappa,
i always remember my childhood, my innocent childhood..
poem by Zeya Mallick
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The Soil's Tears
The soil knows the burden of tears
The earth’s sadness that it bears
Through endless battles for territory -
Only the soil knows it has no boundary!
Blood spills on it, falls toil’s sweat,
Muscle’s ravage decides the weak’s fate
Cries of desperation and victory’s cheers
All these the soil tearfully bears!
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
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This Side Of The River
There's no happiness this side
The river is without a tide
The soil unfertile for seed
Here grows nothing but weed.
Behold the river's other side
Soil is rich so is tide
Spreads out mile after mile
Lands rich and fertile.
I wish I were on that side
This is not the place to reside
There I could get good harvest
There I could build a happy nest.
The man on the river's other side
Finds his river without tide
Finds everything there vile
The land barren unfertile!
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
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Whose Soil Is This?
Neither it's your soil nor it's mine,
Then why should we fall out on it?
See, the whole soil belongs to God,
And we are the trustee appointed by Him.
poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir
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To call war the soil of courage and virtue is like calling debauchery the soil of love.
In the Shadow
In the shadow
I live in the shadow
the shadow of the mountain
Vesuvius.
the days are warm
The soil is fertile
I grow olives and I grow
rich.
Long ago the mountain rumbled
spewing lava, pumice stone
Pliny told us of the horror
Pompeians dying in their homes.
the days are warm
The soil is fertile
I grow olives and I grow
old..
Life in good in greater Naples
We live in an expensive home
every now and then a rumble
vulcan working at his forge
poem by John F. McCullagh
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Our seed of love
If like an apple, ours is meant to be
That a little bite more, a little us less
Then let us as gentle as we can be
Take each bite even as we regress
Till we eat deep into our love's flesh
And nothing more in us to bless
For apple season must come and go
Such path all things must flow
But an apple has many seeds
A little soil and a little moist it needs
Sunshine and a little kiss of life
To give green to its tiny leaf
Pray as we swallow that final part
Ours will grow again in the fertile soil of our heart! !
poem by Okonkwo Osamedua. Allen
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I Know It's Over
I can feel the soil falling over my head
And as i climb into an empty bed
Oh well. enough said.
I know it's over - still i cling
I don't know where else i can go
Over ...
Oh mother, i can feel the soil falling over my head
See, the sea wants to take me
The knife wants to cut me
Do you think you can help me ?
Sad veiled bride, please be happy
Handsome groom, give her room
Loud, loutish lover, treat her kindly
(though she needs you
More than she loves you)
And i know it's over - still i cling
I don't know where else i can go
Over, it's over, it's over, it's over
It's over, la ...
I know it's over
And it never really began
But in my heart it was so real
And you even spoke to me, and said :
"if you're so funny
Then why are you on your own tonight ?
And if you're so clever
Then why are you on your own tonight ?
I know ...
'cause tonight - it's just like any other night
That's why you're on your own tonight
Your triumphs and your charms
While they're in each other's arms..."
It's so easy to laugh
It's so easy to hate
It takes strength to be gentle and kind
Over, over, over, over
It's so easy to laugh
It's so easy to hate
It takes guts to be gentle and kind
Over, over
Love is natural and real
But not for you, my love
Not tonight, my love
Love is natural and real
But not for such as you and i, my love
Oh mother, i can feel the soil falling over my head
Oh mother, i can feel the soil falling over my head, oh ...
Oh mother, i can feel the soil falling over my head
Oh mother, i can feel the soil falling over my head
Oh mother, i can feel the soil fall over my head
Mother, i can feel the soil fall over my head
Oh mother, i can feel the soil fall over, fall over my head
Oh mother, i can feel the ... fall over my ...
Oh ...
song performed by by Smiths
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This Africa
Tears of slavery upon the soil of africa,
turning our day into night and our night into terror with pain,
this africa child needs the soil of freedom,
this soil needs trees of justice,
this trees needs winds of glory,
this winds needs favour of direction,
this direction brings harmony.
poem by Senator alufalism
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Passion Wine Heritage Inspired
soil grape vineyard
starlight
golden nectar
ambrosia
mountain wind
river valley
salient light
earth sky firmament
soil nutrients
soil soul embodiment
soil fingertips
blood flow wine
hunger allure
siren vine original
soil dry
struggle character
define vine
soul
essence
hungry
insight
instinct
awareness
hardship
struggle
enlightenment
nose smell aroma
colour clarity texture
elixir extraordinaire
taste palate tongue
roof inspires trace oak
season aged barrel
cooper creation artist
wooden ribs melody effect
fabric harmony stir ferment
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Love That Dog
Love that dog
like a flower loves the soil
i said i love that dog
like a fower loves the soil
and i love to call my dog
'Hey there max'
while he wags his tail.
I SAID I LOVE THAT DOG,
LIKE A FLOWER LOVES SOIL!
(inspired by Mr myres in the book 'lov that dog')
poem by Laura Venter
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Reflections-11
1 Earth
Good dietician
One fourth mud three fourth water
Fresh, kept up green chaste
2 Land
God-made home for man
Oh, man made Satan invades
Land-made life slumping
3 Soil
Monsoon's friend lush green
Carpeted soil-spread healthy
Beasts dwell happily
4 Bharat
India's prologue
Great grand ancestral expanse
History's proud sigh
poem by Indira Renganathan
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God of Misery
Misery and disease marry the soil and vegetable,
Many finds result from soil and garden, worms and snails,
That result, that deploy their forces armed in ways known to man.
I shall work again, cultivate the garden as a curtain is folded neatly,
The culture has a crowning achievement.
Grotesque and ugly, watchers of the night sky raise their anger
At the old comets and asteroids hitting the world as danger.
Grinding, depriving and dissolving the diseased soil,
Many old comets design danger, making use of the soil
By hitting too fast, and last of all the planet is hurt.
Misery is actually too powerful a danger,
That meteors are faster every year,
In a fit of rage is the god of asteroids.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Calvin Campbell
Ye who are kicking against Fate,
Tell me how it is that on this hill-side,
Running down to the river,
Which fronts the sun and the south-wind,
This plant draws from the air and soil
Poison and becomes poison ivy?
And this plant draws from the same air and soil
Sweet elixirs and colors and becomes arbutus?
And both flourish?
You may blame Spoon River for what it is,
But whom do you blame for the will in you
That feeds itself and makes you dock-weed,
Jimpson, dandelion or mullen
And which can never use any soil or air
So as to make you jessamine or wistaria?
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
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Cyhydedd Naw Ban
The mountains are high covered in snow.
They overlook the valley below
Where farmers must work tilling the soil,
they’d rather be free; not have to toil..
No man can be completely free. Though
some think they ought to be they know
their contrasting desires in turmoil.
Most choose to stay faithful to the soil.
A few choose freedom and gladly go.
Circumstances may combine to foil
the fervent wish to be freed from toil.
It is just a dream as you well know.
You are free to dream but not to go.
Because you are a Son of the Soil.
13-Feb-09
Ifor ap richard
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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