The Garden
My heart is a garden tired with autumn,
Heaped with bending asters and dahlias heavy and dark,
In the hazy sunshine, the garden remembers April,
The drench of rains and a snow-drop quick and clear as a spark;
Daffodils blowing in the cold wind of morning,
And golden tulips, goblets holding the rain --
The garden will be hushed with snow, forgotten soon, forgotten --
After the stillness, will spring come again?
poem by Sara Teasdale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
The Garden
The Garden
By: Adam M. Snow
The garden blooms to your delight;
to and from this very night.
When you are but one;
this garden blooms until you're done.
Keep that in mind but out of sight;
this garden is full of roses so white.
Open up and let shine the sun;
for Springtime has only begun.
Show off your garden so bright;
for there is no need to fight.
Now go on, no need to run;
when you're in your garden my son.
poem by Adam M. Snow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Victoria's Weather
On fifth day of September five days into the Spring
The currawongs the birds of rain on the high gum trees sing
And weather back to Winter change and chill the breezes blow
And it's been hailing all the day and cold enough to snow.
In latter days of Winter the weather nice and fine
And morning paddocks gray with frost that melted in sunshine
And temperatures rose through the day to near twenty degrees
And warmth in the sunshine and warmth in the breeze.
Victoria's weather changes quick it's always been that way
And a heavy shower of cold Spring hail has left the garden gray
A high of five a low of two that's what the forecast say
In the only place that you will get four Seasons in one day.
The currawongs the birds of rain sing on the tall gum trees
On this the coldest day of Spring it's only five degrees
And through the wood on Selby hill the chilly breezes blow
And it's been hailing all the day and cold enough to snow.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
In the spring garden
In the spring garden
~
In the spring garden
Birds sing and chatter
While flowers raise their heads
To greet the morning sun
A garden filled with colour bright
A garden which now fills with life
The bee and the butterfly hover
From flower to flower gathering nectar
Seeding the flowers blossom
Throughout the spring garden
The dew glistens upon the grass
While the wind gently rolls in the tree
All the world slowly waking
Soon to this bounty of great beauty
Every hue from natures pallet
Is here free for all to see
In the spring garden
poem by Matthew Holloway
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Improvisations: Light And Snow: 10
It is night time, and cold, and snow is falling,
And no wind grieves the walls.
In the small world of light around the arc-lamp
A swarm of snowflakes falls and falls.
The street grows silent. The last stranger passes.
The sound of his feet, in the snow, is indistinct.
What forgotten sadness is it, on a night like this,
Takes possession of my heart?
Why do I think of a camellia tree in a southern garden,
With pink blossoms among dark leaves,
Standing, surprised, in the snow?
Why do I think of spring?
The snowflakes, helplessly veering,,
Fall silently past my window;
They come from darkness and enter darkness.
What is it in my heart is surprised and bewildered
Like that camellia tree,
Beautiful still in its glittering anguish?
And spring so far away!
poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
To A Tulip-Bulb
SLEEP first,
And let the storm and winter do their worst;
Let all the garden lie
Bare to the angry sky,
The shed leaves shiver and die
Above your bed;
Let the white coverlet
Of sunlit snow be set
Over your sleeping head,
While in the earth you sleep
Where dreams are dear and deep,
And heed nor wind nor snow,
Nor how the dark moons go.
In this sad upper world where Winter's hand
Has bound with chains of ice the weary land.
Then wake
To see the whole world lovely for Spring's sake;
The garden fresh and fair
With green things everywhere,
And winter's want and care
Banished and fled;
Primrose and violet
In every border set,
With rain and sunshine fed.
Then bless the fairy song
That cradled you so long,
And bless the fairy kiss
That wakened you to this--
A world where Winter's dead and Spring doth reign
And lovers whisper in the budding lane.
poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Water Anew
From mountain high to valley low, the warmth of springs thaw runoff comes clear cold water from the melting snow.
Spring rain, cool and clear, mist and fog, early morning's dew, creeks, rivers, lakes renew.
Though mud stained from the thaw, the water soon will clear, life sustaining, life anew.
With summer weather comes light or heavy rains, sprinkle, mist or fog, life sustaining, life anew.
With autumn arrives the cold, then frost, soon after winter follows, sleet and snow, water turns to ice.
Though covered with ice and winters snow, the water in creeks, rivers and lakes renew until springs thaw, the water still flows.
Whether spring, summer, autumn or winter, water, life sustaining, life anew.
poem by Alvin Schaut
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Little Bit of Garden
We need no crown or sceptre,
for now that it is spring,
just a little bit of garden-
and every man's a king!
A little breadth of border,
a little patch of grass,
above it all the April sky
where soft the south winds pass.
A spade and rake for comrades,
the smell of rain-wet mould,-
and every time we turn a clod
we turn a mint of gold.
A little bit of garden,
with daffodils a-swing,
and tulip-flowers whose crimson flags
are only flown for spring.
Shy blossoming primroses,
forget-me-nots of blue,
and here a blade and there a blade
of green things peeping through.
Who seeks for crown or sceptre
when every man's a ming
whose patch of cottage garden
has felt the feet of Spring!
poem by William Henry Ogilvie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Life's Garden
We all grow up in this Garden called Life,
There are many inner and outer strifes,
In the silence, in the silence,
In this beautiful Garden called Life!
There are weeds and pests in this Garden called Life,
They are know as ignorance, greed, and vice.
In the silence, in the silence,
In this beautiful Garden called Life.
Every garden needs sunshine and rain,
In this garden you will find joy and pain.
In this silence, in the silence,
In this beautiful Garden called Life!
Plant sparsely, your harvest will be a pittance,
Plant bountifully, your harvest will be munificence,
In this silence, in the silence,
In this beautiful Garden called Life!
Did you plant deeds of joy, love and peace?
Or did you drop seeds of hatred, conflict, and gloom?
The world will know by the plants' bloom.
In the silence, in the silence,
In this beautiful Garden called Life!
poem by Anna B. Kurzweil
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
My Pains In Spring
My pains have four seasons
A spring, an autumn, a winter and a summer.
My spring triumphs over the rest.
In the spring of my pains
I am surrounded by smiles of sweet pathos within
And in my garden the blossoming pains flutter in the morning.
In the autumn of my pains
I am preceded by the hills of hopes mounted
And in my groves the pale pathos shed tears in the noon.
In the winter of my pains
I am hidden by the mist of dejected aims
And on my snow hills the sliding glaciers ensure a fall in the evening.
In the summer of pains
I am blasted by the heat waves of scattered dreams
And on my anvil of my poetry new lines are made.
I like my spring of pains
For I too have a human heart
And my garden of dreams will ever be there.....
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Vote! | Copy!
The song that Mary sang
In the stillness of the dawn,
in the stillness of the dusk,
then, my heart is most alive,
there, my soul is most at peace.
In the freshness of the morning,
in the coolness of the eve,
the Lord God walks in every garden;
be still, so to know Him there.
All day long I tend my garden;
there, this evening, God may walk;
I may see Him; I may not - but
yet I meet Him in my work.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
An October Garden
In my Autumn garden I was fain
To mourn among my scattered roses;
Alas for that last rosebud which uncloses
To Autumn's languid sun and rain
When all the world is on the wane!
Which has not felt the sweet constraint of June,
Nor heard the nightingale in tune.
Broad-faced asters by my garden walk,
You are but coarse compared with roses:
More choice, more dear that rosebud which uncloses
Faint-scented, pinched, upon its stalk,
That least and last which cold winds balk;
A rose it is though least and last of all,
A rose to me though at the fall.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Snow in April
If you must slight me, let it be the touch
That snow in April, falling soft and white
Gives to the blossoms delicate and light,
So I don’t suffer, it won’t harm me much.
If you must spite me, let it be as quick
As snow in April falling, not to last.
Lies just one moment then, like mist is past,
So it won’t sting me; I won’t feel the prick.
If you must fight me, let the tender blows
Like snow in April, make no lasting mark
As soft, spring sunshine, on the grassy park,
Brings green renewal. But yet April snows
Can still surprise me, stir me from my rest
For snow is April’s chill, unwelcome guest.
poem by C. Richard Miles
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Desires Of The Heart
My desires run deeper than the deep blue,
You'll find my desires are so deep and true,
And my desires are always true,
I, a mermaid, swimming in waters blue,
Swimming for desires a garden rose could lose,
No frost or snow shall hit my bloom,
No frost or snow to let my heart forget you.
This flower is blooming in a garden dark,
A garden that will lead straight to your heart,
No prick shall harm the fingers that I touch,
Hands that touch this delicate rose,
As I spread my leaves in the soft moonlight,
The garden of dark waiting for this flower to grow and bloom,
Waiting for your touch, so that in pleasure I shall grow.
poem by Paula Glynn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Song V
THE sunshine of your presence lies
On the glad garden of my heart
And bids the leaves of silence part
To show the flowers to your dear eyes,
And flower on flower blooms there and dies
And still new buds awakened spring,
For sunshine makes the garden wise,
To know the time for blossoming.
Night is no time for blossoming,
Your garden then dreams otherwise,
Of vanished Summer, vanished Spring,
And how the dearest flower first dies.
Yet from your ministering eyes
Though night hath drawn me far apart
On the still garden of my heart
The moonlight of your memory lies.
poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Cow (Chapter 2, Verses 265-266, Holy Koran)
I ask for refuge to Allah from Satan the exiled evildoer.
In the name of Allah the Kind and the Merciful Giver.
Those who spend their property
To seek pleasure of Allah the Giver and Great
And to uphold their mindset
Their reward is like a hilltop garden
Upon which if heavy rain falls
Its fruits become twofold then
But if heavy rain does not fall
Drizzling is enough for the garden too
Allah sees whatever you do.
Is there one of you who wants
A garden of palms and vines
With streams flowing beneath it
All kinds of fruits will be there
Then you will become gray-haired
And you will have weak offspring
When a fiery whirlwind will smite that garden
It will become blasted then.
Thus Allah makes the communications loud and clear
With a view to boosting up your thinking power.
poem by Asif Andalib
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Inner Garden
*
Autumn has come to rest
In her garden
Come to paint the trees with emptiness
And no pardon
So many things have come undone
Like the leaves on the ground
And suddenly she begins to cry
But she doesnt know why
Heavy are the words that fall through the air
To burden her shoulders
Caught up in the trees
Her soliloguy,
Dont leave me alone
**
Rome now comes to sit
In her garden
Mingling the breeze with memories
Of a time when
There was a room in pale yellow hues
Her room with a view
Where love made a bed of happiness
In muslin and lace
Sweet is the voice from far away
That speaks sotto voce and
Is lingering there in the golden air
To quiet the day.
( * inner garden i, ** inner garden ii)
song performed by by King Crimson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Spring Tones
Spring tones are coming
From the inside blooming
Spring is here everywhere
In footsteps of New Year
Flower garden come - grow
Melt down coldness snow
With freedom for earth
In its new freshness birth
Spring's time blowing wind
Towards icily rescind
Of bleakness deep dim
In the blow sweepings grim
Where cold waves glide
In its striking bitter tide
Flowing on to dark destiny
Still inside you and me
Spring tone rise - the blue sky!
In feelings of light high
That comes through the rays
Of the new meeting days
Give seeds of its outcomes
In birth of new blooms
And every day to be new
When it comes here through
poem by Peter S. Quinn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Waking Up Too Early One Morning
when i wake up today
too early this morning
when the cocks still crow
and the lizards still make the usual sound
as though saying
this world is okay yet my heart still
beats this ticking clock of
pain longing for love this thing that until now
i do not really understand
we had sex last night and we slept
and had our own sweet dreams
in fantasy land
there is still this emptiness that carries me back to you
and i ask: Who are you? Are you God?
Is it you?
There is this loneliness despite
the sunshine and the little rain of hope
that trickles like a caress of thin air
so cool in the garden out there
There is this doubt about the source of the voices
from within
this conscience which has a mouth and knows
how to speak the language
of truth
Have i forgotten you? Have you forgotten me?
Such questions
shall be my breakfast for this morning.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Gardener
For Violet
In the garden she hath found
Herb of grace and fever-few;
Woundwort there doth much abound,
Heartsease too.
Where she laid dead things away
In the chilly earth, what stir!
Whisper of Spring-time, green and gay,
Comes to her.
All Sweet-Nancies, daffodils,
Talking in their beds below
Of sweet vales and shining hills
Whither they go.
In the garden there's no grief;
God walks there and He is kind,
When the first dear crumpled leaf
Shakes in the wind.
There's no death now. Winter's done.
All's given back. The dead again
Walk with her in the wind and sun
And the sweet rain.
Heartsease in her garden plot,
Ladders-to-Heaven scale the skies;
While the dear forget-me-not
Brightens her eyes.
poem by Katharine Tynan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!