The Garden of Sin
I know the garden-close of sin,
The cloying fruits, the noxious flowers,
I long have roamed the walks and bowers,
Desiring what no man shall win:
A secret place to shelter in,
When soon or late the angry powers
Come down to seek the wretch who cowers,
Expecting judgment to begin.
The pleasure long has passed away
From flowers and fruit, each hour I dread
My doom will find me where I lie.
I dare not go, I dare not stay.
Without the walks, my hope is dead,
Within them, I myself must die.
poem by Robert Fuller Murray
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Look Not For Me
Look not for me
In the kitchen
There isn’t no food for me
Unless in an apron
Cooking for the madam
Food, I can’t dare taste
Look not for me
In the garden
There isn’t any land for me
Unless harvesting
Fruits for the farmer
Fruits I can’t dare bite
Look for me on the long queue
Heeding the ballot booth
Amidst no shelter and food
Yet casting my vote
To an unknown patron
Who I’ll soon betray my trust
Look for me
In the dusty roads of Madombicha
And the shacks of Mabocha
Look for me in the pit of poverty
Despite my vote
Look for my black face
poem by Swabi Mnisi
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Hopes
A PRINCESS, sleeping in enchanted bowers,
Earth springs to waking at Spring's voice and kiss,
And after winter's cold, unlovely hours,
Laughs out to find how beautiful she is.
Spring flings a song across the field and fold,
And sighs it through the glad wood's tangled ways;
And million, million tales of love are told,
And dreams are dreamed of undivided days.
In hollows where so late but dead leaves lay,
Through the dead leaves the primroses push up;
And wind-flowers fleck the copse, and fields are gay
With daisies and the budding buttercup.
So in our hearts, though thick the dead leaves lie
Of grief--heaped up by winds of old despair--
May there not be a spring-time by-and-by,
When flowers of joy shall blossom even there?
So long has Winter held our hearts in his,
We dare not dream of Spring and all her flowers?
Ah! the undreamed-of happiness it is
That comes--the dreamed-of joy is never ours!
When late the trees were brown and hedges bare,
And keen east wind cut sharp as human pain,
Did the Earth guess how soon she would be fair
With Spring's dear dainty loveliness again?
We do not guess of joy, but hope alone--
Like life's mysterious force that thrills the earth--
Lives in our souls, unrecognised, unknown,
Till time shall bring unhoped-for joy to birth.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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We’re Home
Pray with me
At the botanical garden,
Stay with me this weekend
As we breathe our yoga of devotion.
I fell in love with you
As I placed my mat next to yours
And we drank clear water
Of reverence and hope.
Let’s sit on the terrace
And give thanks for each other,
Express gratitude for our lives,
Let us find God in each other’s eyes.
I could weep with you in the rain,
Smile with you in the sunlight
Touching your hair graced by summer flowers,
Share fruit with you walking along a city street.
It’s not too late to make everything meaningful,
It’s not too late to discover each other in this sacred place
And finally realize that we’re home.
poem by Uriah Hamilton
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Authors
OVER the meadows, and down the stream,
And through the garden-walks straying,
He plucks the flowers that fairest seem;
His throbbing heart brooks no delaying.
His maiden then comes--oh, what ecstasy!
Thy flowers thou giv'st for one glance of her eye!
The gard'ner next door o'er the hedge sees the youth:
"I'm not such a fool as that, in good truth;
My pleasure is ever to cherish each flower,
And see that no birds my fruit e'er devour.
But when 'tis ripe, your money, good neighbour!
'Twas not for nothing I took all this labour!"
And such, methinks, are the author-tribe.
The one his pleasures around him strews,
That his friends, the public, may reap, if they choose;
The other would fain make them all subscribe.
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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Dream.dare.seek
Dream to dare and dream what others don’t seek
Seek to dare another dream that dares to dream.
Dare to dream the dream that others seek
Seek the dream that others don’t dare.
Dream yourself away from here
Fly yourself away from fear.
Across the barren lake of infinity
Towards the beaming celestial city.
Seek what your heart desires
Beyond the haggle and twist of buyers.
Where the world cannot be bought or sold
Hearts are the only things made or silver and gold.
Dare to let your mind take flight
Away from darkness into the light
Forever and ever this world shall turn.
Our hearts and eyes, lies to burn.
Seek.Dare.Dream
poem by Emily Ecstacy
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The Happy Ending In The Garden
... AND then as it was told
the princess meets her prince in the
Secret Garden
they sow the seeds of love
respect time
soon the flowers begin to bloom
soon the trees bear the fruit
in the garden of love
so private.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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To James Whitcomb Riley
On his "Book of Joyous Children"
Yours is a garden of old-fashioned flowers;
Joyous children delight to play there;
Weary men find rest in its bowers,
Watching the lingering light of day there.
Old-time tunes and young love's laughter
Ripple and run among the roses;
Memory's echoes, murmuring after,
Fill the dusk when the long day closes.
Simple songs with a cadence olden--
These you learned in the Forest of Arden:
Friendly flowers with hearts all golden--
These you borrowed from Eden's garden.
This is the reason why all men love you;
Truth to life is the charm of art:
Other poets may soar above you--
You keep close to the human heart.
poem by Henry Van Dyke
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When in the long-drawn avenues of Thought
When in the long-drawn avenues of Thought
I halt, and look before me and behind,
And seek what erst I all too little sought,
Some spot secure of rest, I do not find.
Retrace my steps I dare not, lest each nook
I late rejected should reject me now,
And sweetest arbours, restlessly forsook,
No more be prone their leafage to allow.
So to the untrod distance do I strain,
Which seemeth ever further to extend;
Desiring oft, in irritable pain,
Premature sleep would bring that settled End,
When I shall know it all, or else forget
This far too little which for more doth fret.
poem by Alfred Austin
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From the biography of an unknown woman: II
She has chosen no path
She's simply put on one
Hazardous and full of
Pitfalls
Avalanches
Landslides
Tre nches
Pebbles and
Boulders too
Yet she walks on
Like a little girl on a treasure hunt
Still expecting to find a treasure
And
She walks on with cuts and bruises
Like a walking raw wound
She patiently walks on...
12apr2010
13.23hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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A Pleasant Grove
Unto a pleasant grove or such like place,
Where here the curious cutting of a hedge:
There, by a pond, the trimming of the sedge:
Here the fine setting of well-shading trees:
The walks there mounting up by small degrees,
The gravel and the green so equal lie,
It, with the rest, draws on your ling'ring eye:
Here the sweet smells that do perfume the air,
Arising from the infinite repair
Of odoriferous buds and herbs of price,
(As if it were another Paradise)
So please the smelling sense, that you are fain
Where last you walk'd to turn and walk again.
There the small birds with their harmonious notes
Sing to a spring that smileth as she floats:
For in her face a many dimples show,
And often skips as it did dancing go:
Here further down an over-arched alley,
That from a hill goes winding in a valley,
You spy at end thereof a standing lake,
Where some ingenious artist strives to make
The water (brought in turning pipes of lead
Through birds of earth most lively fashioned)
To counterfeit and mock the sylvans all,
In singing well their own set madrigal.
This with no small delight retains your ear,
And makes you think none blest but who live there.
Then in another place the fruits that be
In gallant clusters decking each good tree,
Invite your hand to crop some from the stem,
And liking one, taste every sort of them:
Then to the arbours walk, then to the bowers,
Thence to the walks again, thence to the flowers,
Then to birds, and to the clear spring thence,
Now pleasing one, and then another sense.
Here one walks oft, and yet anew begin'th,
As if it were some hidden labyrinth;
So loath to part and so content to stay,
That when the gard'ner knocks for you away,
It grieves you so to leave the pleasures in it,
That you could wish that you had never seen it.
poem by William Browne
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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In the Garden, With My Father
It is spring.
As in my garden, I stand.
In the garden -
My father is there;
... though long since gone...
He IS there.
I tend to the weeds,
The veggies and flowers...
He is there.
I never understood him
(as I should have, could have) ...
Until now,
Here, in the garden.
Where I, like he, work the soil.
I've come just recently
(these last few years)
To enjoy and love my garden so.
- I am not as surprised afterall, as I would have thought,
To find him here.
Here, in the garden.
He loved his garden very much.......
I - at that early age of restless youth - had no use
For such slow moving things.
But now, I see, and myself move, at a much slower pace.
Therefore, it is him I am here and now able to see,
In the garden.
Watching it all grow, so peacefully.
It is somewhat sad, that now,
When I can no longer tell him,
I understand.
For I have come to find... I love the garden too,
Just as much as he;
And we both always will.
My father - standing in the garden -
I now know.
After all these long years.
And I've missed him so;
But, how wonderful to find,
He IS here...
In the garden, our garden,
Always, with me.
poem by Smoky Hoss
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Secret
We lead two different lives
Just like two lines that never cross
And here we are together
Standing closer than we are
But we're still standing here untouched
Too scared to make a move
We want so much to touch
And we can't wait forever
We know it's dangerous
For us to be together
How do we ever keep this secret
How do we keep it in the dark
And if we dare to taste our weakness
How could we tear ourselves apart
Why do we keep this love together
Didn't we know right from the start
That we would have to keep this secret
Or forever stay apart
I watch you coming to me
Walking in the pouring rain
I can't help looking at you
Wishing I could stay away
So many times I've tried in vain
To close my eyes and pray it goes away
But I can't stop myself from feeling
To let you go would be too much
For me to take
How do we ever keep this secret
How do we deep it in the dark
And if we dare to taste our weakness
How could we tear ourselves apart
Why do we keep this love together
Didn't we know right from the start
That we would have to keep this secret
Or forever stay apart
I can't help thinking
When I look into your eyes
How much I need you
It's so hard to hide
How do we ever keep this secret
How do we keep it in the dark
And if we dare to taste our weakness
How could we tear ourselves apart
Why do we keep this love together
Didn't we know right from the start
That we would have to keep this secret
Or be doomed to stay apart
song performed by by Heart from Brigade
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Man Walks Slowly/ When He Has Nowhere Special To Go
A man walks slowly
When he has nowhere special to go-
A man walks slowly
And has the time to look around
The flowers, the trees,
His own memories his dreams-
He walks slowly
And enjoys his walking-
Who knows how much longer
He will be able to go on walking?
He walks slowsly
He has nowhere special to go-
He enjoys the morning light
He is at home with the world and happy-
He walks slowly
And is at home wherever he goes-
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Thou Art a Flower
Thou art a flower, dear heart, a fragrant flower
And I, the wandering, hair-clad, amorous bee.
’Mongst all the regal beauties of the bower,
I seek but thee.
I feel the ivory of thy petals fair
Brush lightly on my belly as I woo
And I would sting thee, if I did but dare,
So sweet are you.
I suck the honey from your dewy bowl
And drunken mad, with wild, delirious bliss,
Within your cup, I yield to you my soul
And drink your kiss.
Oh! petals sweet, close in and crush me dead.
I am consumed in flames of passion’s fire.
What else is left, when this dear hour hath fled.
But dead desire?
The juice of poppy flowers and breath of rose,
Wistaria’s purple, blood-flecked lilies white,
I pilfer and when, soft, your petals close,
When comes the night.
I pour the passions of the world of flowers
Deep in beyond the lips of quivering red.
Your life is mine to craze the trembling hours,
All else is dead.
poem by from The Point of View
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Reservation For One
This is my tree, my tree, my tree,
My one lone tree, pear tree,
It grows, overflows, it grows it’s fruit,
Alone, only for me.
If I could go to a far-away place,
With just me and my tree, pear tree,
I’d pack my bags, my bags I’d pack,
I’d pick up my bags and flee.
There’s nothing at all, no nothing,
At all, that films me more with glee,
Than those globes, those globes,
Of precious fruit in my tree, pear tree.
I sit beneath, beneath I sit,
Its laden canopy, I polish it’s leafs then,
Set a table of fruits,
Of wine, and bread and brie.
This tree, my tree, could feed the world,
Find me a wife and camaraderie,
It’s powers, it’s powers are vast but I
Can’t pass on its secret sadly.
I’d tell the world, the world I’d tell,
If they weren’t all so hungry, you see.
But my fruit, my fruits, my laboured.
Fruits, I grew only for me, for me,
No none are as hungry as me.
poem by Suzanne Louise Bishop
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Only Leaves!
Will there be fruits without flowers?
Will there be flowers without leaves?
But in my garden only leaves grow
Without flowers and fruits ever!
Selfish growth will mar healthy society!
It will be like westward rush for gold
Where everyone fights with gun to kill
One another along with joy and fun ever!
Competition sans cooperation kills joy!
Animal lust cannot sustain divine love
Making joy bloom as flowers in garden
To make joy rule life forever in bliss!
Life sans good company as desert sans oasis is
Stock piling of wealth sans none to share joy!
poem by Ramesh T A
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Shelter From The Storm
twas in another lifetime, one of toil and blood
When blackness was a virtue and the road was full of mud
I came in from the wilderness, a creature void of form.
Come in, she said,
Ill give you shelter from the storm.
And if I pass this way again, you can rest assured
Ill always do my best for her, on that I give my word
In a world of steel-eyed death, and men who are fighting to be warm.
Come in, she said,
Ill give you shelter from the storm.
Not a word was spoke between us, there was little risk involved
Everything up to that point had been left unresolved.
Try imagining a place where its always safe and warm.
Come in, she said,
Ill give you shelter from the storm.
I was burned out from exhaustion, buried in the hail,
Poisoned in the bushes an blown out on the trail,
Hunted like a crocodile, ravaged in the corn.
Come in, she said,
Ill give you shelter from the storm.
Suddenly I turned around and she was standin there
With silver bracelets on her wrists and flowers in her hair.
She walked up to me so gracefully and took my crown of thorns.
Come in, she said,
Ill give you shelter from the storm.
Now theres a wall between us, somethin theres been lost
I took too much for granted, got my signals crossed.
Just to think that it all began on a long-forgotten morn.
Come in, she said,
Ill give you shelter from the storm.
Well, the deputy walks on hard nails and the preacher rides a mount
But nothing really matters much, its doom alone that counts
And the one-eyed undertaker, he blows a futile horn.
Come in, she said,
Ill give you shelter from the storm.
Ive heard newborn babies wailin like a mournin dove
And old men with broken teeth stranded without love.
Do I understand your question, man, is it hopeless and forlorn?
Come in, she said,
Ill give you shelter from the storm.
In a little hilltop village, they gambled for my clothes
I bargained for salvation an they gave me a lethal dose.
I offered up my innocence and got repaid with scorn.
Come in, she said,
Ill give you shelter from the storm.
Well, Im livin in a foreign country but Im bound to cross the line
Beauty walks a razors edge, someday Ill make it mine.
If I could only turn back the clock to when God and her were born.
Come in, she said,
Ill give you shelter from the storm.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Here I stand alone
Here I stand all alone.
As I prepare to say say goodbye.
And turn my back on all I've ever known.
And I leave all the hatred and pain behind.
Here I sit alone.
As I take the lethal dose.
How cruel life can be.
How I tried oh I tried.
Here I sit alone.
Blood pouring.
And pills making me sleepy.
Now I no it won't be long.
Here I lay alone.
Dying in peace.
When they find me it will be to late.
I don't have to live a life of hate.
Here I stand high in the sky.
Looking down on you all after my suicide.
I am sorry but I could not stay.
But don't you dare.
Don't you dare cry
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
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Dare I Hope?
Dare I hope to hope?
Is it safe? Is it right?
Am I hoping for nothing
But a black and empty night?
Hope should make me happy.
I should laugh, sing, and dance
Because I am hoping. Right?
Ha! Not a chance.
How is it that hope can leave me
Trembling in the darkness?
How is it that something so “good”
Should leave me feeling helpless?
Dare I hope to hope?
What difference does it make?
Fate will be fate in the end,
It will either “make or break.”
Does Fate regard my hope?
Does She listen? Or care?
Am I shooting for a star that
Simply isn’t there?
I cannot know! Oh, God
Why must I struggle with
This doubt that pulls at me
Rends me, limb from limb?
What sort of hope leaves pain
Where it should instead leave joy?
Is this hope at all? Or perhaps
Some wicked demon’s ploy?
I cannot know! Dear heaven!
How can I even begin to dare
To hope for something – anything?
Is no assurance there?
No promise? No guarantee?
I cannot stand it! I cannot!
The doubt is a plague
In my every thought.
Dare I hope to hope
In a hope that leaves me dry
And lost? How can I dare
To hope in hope? How can I?
poem by Sophia White
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At a Dinner Party
With fruit and flowers the board is deckt,
The wine and laughter flow;
I'll not complain--could one expect
So dull a world to know?
You look across the fruit and flowers,
My glance your glances find.--
It is our secret, only ours,
Since all the world is blind.