Spring Pools
These pools that, though in forests, still reflect
The total sky almost without defect,
And like the flowers beside them, chill and shiver,
Will like the flowers beside them soon be gone,
And yet not out by any brook or river,
But up by roots to bring dark foliage on.
The trees that have it in their pent-up buds
To darken nature and be summer woods -
Let them think twice before they use their powers
To blot out and drink up and sweep away
These flowery waters and these watery flowers
From snow that melted only yesterday.
poem by Robert Frost
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Related quotes
Flowers
(orbison/dees)
When I was a boy I ran among the flowers
Looking left and right at the bright array
I played through the spring, whiled away the hours
Lingered with the flowers every day
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, lifes bouquet
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, along the way
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, lifes bouquet
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, along the way
When the summer ends and the storms of life are over
When the winter comes and the petals fall away
They may write it on my stone, he was just a roller
But he stopped to pick some flowers along the way
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, lifes bouquet
Flowers, picked some flowers, along the way
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Roots And Leaves Themselves Alone
ROOTS and leaves themselves alone are these;
Scents brought to men and women from the wild woods, and from the
pond-side,
Breast-sorrel and pinks of love--fingers that wind around tighter
than vines,
Gushes from the throats of birds, hid in the foliage of trees, as the
sun is risen;
Breezes of land and love--breezes set from living shores out to you
on the living sea--to you, O sailors!
Frost-mellow'd berries, and Third-month twigs, offer'd fresh to young
persons wandering out in the fields when the winter breaks up,
Love-buds, put before you and within you, whoever you are,
Buds to be unfolded on the old terms;
If you bring the warmth of the sun to them, they will open, and bring
form, color, perfume, to you;
If you become the aliment and the wet, they will become flowers,
fruits, tall blanches and trees. 10
poem by Walt Whitman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Like A Fresh Brook Flows
Winter is gone.
And again Spring is here...
On the scene.
Dawn leaves its chill to a warming.
As birds are heard chirping.
And all of nature seems to sing.
Smiling faces seen to grace,
In places where we go.
Letting known their feelings shown.
As blooming flowers are exposed.
And laughter shared among the children,
Bring instant memories.
And romance filled remembered dances,
Slowly...
Like a fresh brook in a forest flows.
Winter is gone.
And again Spring is here...
On the scene.
Dawn arrives with Sunrise warmings,
As nature scents with a lingered tingling.
Ah-ee-ah-oh,
As blooming flowers are exposed.
Ah-ee-ah-oh,
And romance again like a fresh brook flows.
Ah-ee-ah-oh,
As blooming flowers are exposed.
Ah-ee-ah-oh,
And romance again like a fresh brook flows.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Quo Vadis?
we coo-ed with koels
we chirped with birds
we buzzed with bees
we bloosomed with buds
we ate ripened fruit fell on earth
we collected flowers that trees discarded
we waited for buds to express themselves
we ate under open sky
we slept under star-lit sky
we took siestas under the trees
we took shelter under giant green canopies
we filled our nostrils with mixture of damp earth, foliage and flowers
we once weathered with seasons
we are now cut off from seasons
we are now in a virtual world
we are now condemned to a limited living
21mar2010
11.08hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bring Flowers
Bring flowers, young flowers, for the festal board,
To wreathe the cup ere the wine is pour'd;
Bring flowers! they are springing in wood and vale,
Their breath floats out on the southern gale,
And the touch of the sunbeam hath waked the rose,
To deck the hall where the bright wine flows.
Bring flowers to strew in the conqueror's path-
He hath shaken thrones with his stormy wrath!
He comes with the spoils of nations back,
The vines lie crush'd in his chariot's track,
The turf looks red where he won the day-
Bring flowers to die in the conqueror's way!
Bring flowers to the captive's lonely cell,
They have tales of the joyous woods to tell;
Of the free blue streams, and the glowing sky,
And the bright world shut from his languid eye;
They will bear him a thought of the sunny hours,
And a dream of his youth-bring him flowers, wild flowers!
Bring flowers, fresh flowers, for the bride to wear!
They were born to blush in her shining hair.
She is leaving the home of her childhood's mirth,
She hath bid farewell to her father's hearth,
Her place is now by another's side-
Bring flowers for the locks of the fair young bride!
Bring flowers, pale flowers, o'er the bier to shed,
A crown for the brow of the early dead!
For this through its leaves hath the white-rose burst,
For this in the woods was the violet nurs'd.
Though they smile in vain for what once was ours,
They are love's last gift-bring ye flowers, pale flowers!
Bring flowers to the shrine where we kneel in prayer,
They are nature's offering, their place is there!
They speak of hope to the fainting heart,
With a voice of promise they come and part,
They sleep in dust through the wintry hours,
They break forth in glory-bring flowers, bright flowers!
poem by Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bring Me Flowers
Bring me flowers when I am living
Don't bring me them when I am dead
Let me enjoy them in the giving
My mother always had said.
Let me hold them in my hands
and smell there fragrant scent
Then I will reminisce of different lands
Before; I am heaven sent.
I will reflect back when I was young
Or I might think back not long ago
When I walked underneath the sun
Or when I felt the wind as it blowed.
Bring me flowers when I am here
Please don't wait until I am gone
So I might reflect to a different year
And my memories will last on.
I might reflect to a different time
With every breadth and scent I breath
And knowing the flowers are mine
Shows how much that you love me.
Let me enjoy the flowers again
Let me feel them on my fingers
Because I just don't know when,
And how long my memory will linger.
Bring me flowers with a smile
Please don't bring them with any sorrow
And I will hold them just like a child
As I held you, and held on till tomorrow.
I want to see them once again
As I place them on my table
And then they will be my friend
And I will greet them when I am able.
They will be a part of me
My mothers always had said
So bring them now to me please
And don't wait until I am dead.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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When The Heavy Clouds Of Black Come
when those dark heavy clouds
finally come on my roof
i will not think anymore
of any lamentation
i will not think of the threats
that a heavy flood may
come and take away my house
and everything
i will change my point of view
this angle of sight
i will take sides with the way the
trees and the flowers look
at its coming
i will think about the growth of leaves
the spreading of the roots
the blooming of the buds
the fruiting of the flowers
and the ripening
and the lusciousness and
the sweetness of life
beyond the dark, heavy clouds
beyond the rain and the flood
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Save Forests and Rare Species
The Franklin forests are extinct;
These trees of beauty are now rare;
No more are they found in the wild;
Their fragrant flowers tempt a child!
Last seen in 18 zero3,
By Altamaha river-side –
A deciduous tree or shrub,
It grows upto a twenty feet.
With leaves that change color by fall,
Its snow-white flowers are showy;
With golden yellow stamens free,
It is now grown in pots from seeds!
But nothing like the forests wild
Of Franklin trees that grew on own;
You could not find a path through them –
Home to wild animals many.
How Nature rears a forest dense!
–The secrets, no man deciphers;
The way they flourish in the wild,
No gardener can do like-wise!
As man destroys more forest trees,
For want of newer farming land,
Wild wondrous trees then cease to be,
And other species vanish too.
Deforestation is a crime
That has gone uncontrolled with time;
Rare species of trees, shrubs and beasts
Have been effaced from earth with ease.
The earth has lesser green cover!
’Tis growing bald, much more each day,
As forest trees are felled for wood,
At rates more than we ever should.
World’s rain-forests are turning scarce –
A cause of global-warming fast;
Landslides and floods are dangers new;
More species turn something of past!
Trees extract carbon-dioxide,
And make the air less polluted;
Wild beasts are on the rampage when
Their forest habitats are gone.
Save forests and afforest, man;
The clouds bring rain when trees ask for;
Wild beasts need forests for their homes;
Preserve forests in ways you can.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 6-23-2008
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Oh! Natural Beauties!
Earth laughs in flowers, flowers laugh in showers,
Sea laughs in fishes, fishes laugh in waters ……
Sky laughs in clouds, clouds laugh in rain, oh sire!
But man laughs in BSNL Towers and what a satire!
Nature is a wonderland; it is heaven's abode with elixir,
Thus, I wonder at this nature’s splendor!
In the garden with heaven’s flowers
Oh nature’s gifts! You are funny little fellows!
Oh natural beauties, you are dainty little dears!
Come! Come near me, Do you hear me, my little fellows!
Nature is a wonderland; it is heaven's abode with elixir,
Thus, I wonder at this nature’s splendor!
The woods are full of faeries!
As The trees are the lovers........
The garden is full of angels without worries!
As the flowers are the lovers.........
Nature is a wonderland; it is heaven's abode with elixir,
Thus, I wonder at this nature’s splendor!
Nature is admirable and inspirable........
Nature instills hope and enlightens us all days;
Being thus prepared for us in all ways with......
Good for food and made our life desirable;
Nature is a wonderland; it is heaven's abode with elixir,
Thus, I wonder at this nature’s splendor!
Let me hire satire! Let me fire human ire
poem by Harindhar Reddy
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In the Evening
A blue brook, path and evening along decayed huts.
Behind dark shrubbery children play with blue and red balls;
Some swap the forehead and the hands rot in the brown foliage.
In bony stillness the heart of the lonely one shines,
A small boat rocks on blackish waters.
Through dark woods hair and laughter of brown maids flutters.
The shadows of the old people cross the flight of a small bird;
Mystery of blue flowers on their temples.
Others sway on black benches in the evening wind.
Golden sighs quietly expire in the bleak branches
Of the chestnut; a sound of dark cymbals of summer,
When the strangeress appears on the decayed staircase.
poem by Georg Trakl
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Universal Flowers
All all
Trees are
Earth flowers...
Wonder of
Green...
Making trees
Is
Not only
Earth flower's...
A unversel flowers...
Some flowers
Is big...
Some is...
Sumall...
That is not enough
Trees also
Flowers
For
The univers...!
Yes or not...?
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cupid And Swallows Flying From Winter. By Dagley
'We fly from the cold.'
AWAY , away, o'er land and sea,
This is now no home for me;
My light wings may never bear
Northern cloud or winter air.
Murky shades are gathering fast,
Sleet and snow are on the blast,
Trees from which the leaves are fled,
Flowers whose very roots are dead,
Grass of its green blade bereft,
These are all that now are left.
--Linger here another day,
I shall be as sad as they;
My companions fly with spring,
I too must be on the wing.
Where are the sweet gales whose song
Wont to waft my darts along?
Scented airs! oh, not like these,
Rough as they which sweep the seas;
But those sighs of rose which bring
Incense from their wandering.
Where are the bright flowers that kept
Guard around me while I slept?
Where the sunny eyes whose beams
Waken'd me from my soft dreams?--
These are with the swallows gone,--
Beauty's heart is chill'd to stone.
Oh! for some sweet southern clime,
Where 'tis ever summer time,--
Where, if blossoms fall, their tomb
Is amid new birth of bloom,--
Where green leaves are ever springing,
Where the lark is always singing,--
One of those bright isles which lie
Fair beneath an azure sky,
Isles of cinnamon and spice,
Shadow each of Paradise,--
Where the flowers shine with dyes,
Tinted bright from the sun-rise,--
Where the birds which drink their dew,
Wave wings of yet brighter hue,
And each river's course is roll'd
Over bed of pearl and gold!
Oh! for those lime-scented groves
Where the Spanish lover roves,
Tuning to the western star,
His soft song and light guitar,--
Where the dark hair'd girls are dancing,
Fairies in the moonlight glancing,
With pencill'd brows, and radiant eyes,
Like their planet-lighted skies!
Or those clear Italian lakes
Where the silver cygnet makes
Its soft nest of leaf and flower,
A white lily for its bower!
Each of these a home would be,
Fit for beauty and for me:
I must seek their happier sphere
While the Winter lords it here.
poem by Letitia Elizabeth Landon
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Her Eye Colors
spring
lush foliage
buds of flowers
tiny leaves
sprouting from the
twigs
in Hongkong
where there is no
space for gardens
she draws spring
in the colors
of her eyes
shades of green
and pink and
red and
blue for the flowers
the clouds
the horizon
the sun
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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At The Ambassadeurs
TO YVETTE GUILBERT
That was Yvette. The blithe Ambassadeurs
Glitters, this Sunday of the Fête des Fleurs;
Here are the flowers, too, living flowers that blow
A night or two before the odours go;
And all the flowers of all the city ways
Are laughing, with Yvette, this day of days.
Laugh, with Yvette? But I must first forget,
Before I laugh, that I have heard Yvette.
For the flowers fade before her: see, the light
Dies out of that poor cheek, and leaves it white;
And a chill shiver takes me as she sings
The pity of unpitied human things;
A woe beyond all weeping, tears that trace
The very wrinkles of the last grimace.
poem by Arthur Symons
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A crown of flowers
A crown of flowers
~
I don a crown of flowers
To mask the sorrow inside
Eyes which fall upon its beauty
Do not see the tears I cry
While the flowers bud to blossom
I wilt to almost nothing
In a garden colour filled with life
There is also a shadow found
In the sun the flower buds open
In the dark a heart is closed
The flowers shall be woven together
To hide something left unseen
The rose, the tulip and the bluebell rise
I am envious of their beautiful life
So I don I crown of flowers
To mask my sorrow inside
poem by Matthew Holloway
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Getting Away From It All
Farewell, Farewell, noisy city, I have had enough of your crowded streets, pollution and incessant babble.
I shall go into the Woods and build myself a cabin amongst the chirping morning birds and summer flowers.
Where I can sit by the babbling brook and read my books of Poetry and Philosophy in Peace.
Where I can look at the wonderful sunset painting the emplty sky with its beautiful colours..
Where I can smell the uplifting fragrance of the wild flowers and enjoy the beauty of Nature while I can.
For I am but a passing shadow in this mystical journey called Life
with it's mixture of Joy and Sadness.
poem by Michael Kersting
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Watching the seasons
Behind these bars
Children wear thick clothes
Snowflakes land on their noses
They create little snow angels
Snowmen and snowballs
Christmas trees alight
Angels on top of them
It is Winter
Behind these bars
I watch the flowers bloom
Snow melts away
Birds chirping and singing
Lovers hold each other tight
Buds open and grow
Sweet smells conquer the air
It is Spring
Behind these bars
The sun watches over
People change their clothes
They sit at the beach
The farmers harvest their crops
Crop and farmer sharing secrets
Whispering in the heat
It is Summer
Behind these bars
Leaves dance all the world's dances
The nude trees shiver in the wind
People drag their umbrellas
Struggle cleaning their leaves
Thousand referees whistling
The howling wolves unleashed
It is Autumn
Behind these bars
Snowflakes are my family
Flowers are my perfume
Wind is my music
Thank you judge and jury
For I will die here
Watching the seasons
poem by Mariam de Haan
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Sestina: Here in Katmandu
We have climbed the mountain.
There's nothing more to do.
It is terrible to come down
To the valley
Where, amidst many flowers,
One thinks of snow,
As formerly, amidst snow,
Climbing the mountain,
One thought of flowers,
Tremulous, ruddy with dew,
In the valley.
One caught their scent coming down.
It is difficult to adjust, once down,
To the absense of snow.
Clear days, from the valley,
One looks up at the mountain.
What else is there to do?
Prayer wheels, flowers!
Let the flowers
Fade, the prayer wheels run down.
What have they to do
With us who have stood atop the snow
Atop the mountain,
Flags seen from the valley?
It might be possible to live in the valley,
To bury oneself among flowers,
If one could forget the mountain,
How, never once looking down,
Stiff, blinded with snow,
One knew what to do.
Meanwhile it is not easy here in Katmandu,
Especially when to the valley
That wind which means snow
Elsewhere, but here means flowers,
Comes down,
As soon it must, from the mountain.
poem by Donald Justice
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Say it with Flowers
Say what you feel through Colorful Flowers,
As Flowers have the Special Powers,
To Heal, To Please, Apologize, Babies Showers,
Say it with Exotic or Beautiful Flowers.
'Have An AweSome Day! '
Lovely flowers
Clour clour
Flowers on
The world...
With out fly
Sitting on the trees
And plants...
Clours flowers
Fly...
Some time air
Fly the flowers
Are making lovely earth...
Flowers are lovely...?
Lovely are flowers..!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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