En.Citatepedia^®.ro

A snowflake passed this way

Fragile is the mind
That cannot see a friend
Fragile too is the snowflake
Seeking sanctuary on my window sill
Both are anonymous to the world

The dreamers will see many snow flakes
Whose beauty we can only imitate
Within this gift, there is a place
That reminds us of the summer days to come
A garden for the soul
Where Friends are bees
That pollinates the spirit with love

For you too are part of a fragile world
Seeking life’s journey
A visitor within a snowflake
Beautiful and Unique
Born to melt away
In the heat of time

For it is an honour to know a life that others did not
To be chosen by this snowflake on my window sill
A memory for my garden to keep
And perhaps that is enough for anyone’s existence

poem by Steven Cooke
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fragile (demo 1998)

Four o'clock in the morning
I close my eyes and consider you
Is this some kind of warning
To let me know you're just passing through my life?
It's a good place to be
For someone like you to take solace in me
This is my fragile reality
For someone as eager as you
Can break me in threes
And break through my needs
To get to the dirt
You learned how to hurt... me
Six o'clock in the evening
I brush my hair and will you to know
Is this some kind of teasing?
And are you prepared to be half as true as you try,
As you try hard to be?
Someone so cautious and careful and free
And why are you waiting for me?
You're steady and stable and able to be close to me
I'm strapped to my seat
The tables have turned
You know how they burn right through me
Why do you wrestle with my right to be different from you?
Why do you settle for me if it's not what you wanted to do?
I'm fragile too
I'm fragile too
I'm fragile too
Only with you
Four o'clock in the morning
I hold your head and take care of you
Are these symptoms of touring?
Did someone you love leave you black and blue?
Sometime, somewhere I'll never be
Aware of misfortunes and torture and grief
This life is a good place to be
For someone as fragile as you
I'm fragile too
I'm fragile too
I'm fragile too
But only with you
Only with you
I'm fragile too
But only with you
Only with you
I'm fragile too
But only with you
I'm fragile too (7x)
But only with you
Only with you
I'm fragile too
But only with you.

song performed by by Veruca Salt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Our Dreams Within Us Start

So fragile is the mind that seeks,
A peace that seems so out of reach.
So impatient does one like this become...
When a bitterness sits,
To feel invited and welcomed.

And seeking from outside ourselves,
Is a journey never ending.
What is wished already exists.
But our hearts overlook this,
In a desperate yearning.

So fragile is the mind that seeks,
A peace that seems so out of reach.
If we just stop to quiet our desires.
We will realize we have not kindled...
A motivation to inspire,
Those dreams that are our own...
Left for someone else to come to spark!

And that is not the way,
Our dreams within us start!
So fragile is the mind that seeks,
A peace that seems so out of reach.
And we keep this seeking beseeched to plead...
To be fed!

Yet remain so out of touch!
Misunderstanding this need within us,
We can begin to feed in concentrated prayer.
If we spent more time being there,
In it!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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God's Lil' Snowflakes

God’s lil’ Snowflake

Snowflakes are denizens
Of cold winter sky
Drawn from grey clouds
To icy drifts, where they lie

They blanket bare limbs
Of cold shivering trees
Through which they swim
Like swarms of crystalline bees

Individually formed,
no two are alike…and which with,
Mother Nature, the artist
Paints her canvas of white

Each snowflake is a delight
The best of which is among
The delight in a child’s eyes
When snowflake lights on the tongue

poem by David Whalen
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The Impossibility Of Identical Snowflakes

Once upon a time
throughout most of
the twentieth century

it was believed no
two snowflakes
could be exactly alike.

Mathematically it is
highly unlikely
for two snowflakes
to be exactly alike.

This is due to
the roughly
10 to power 19

water molecules
which make up
a snowflake.

Snowflakes grow
at different rates
in different patterns.

The snowflake
growth rate pattern
probabilities vary

depending on
changing temperature
changing humidity

within the atmosphere
the snowflake
growth falls through

on its journey
to the ground
gravity induced.

The dawn birth
of snowflake
scientific research

began in 1885
initial attempts
to identify find

identical twin snowflakes
by photographing
thousands of snowflakes.

Wilson Alwyn Bentley
using a microscope
found the wide variety

of classic snowflakes
forms known today
in eye matching detail.

Probability theory
holds it is more likely
that two snowflakes

could become virtually
identical if their changing
temperature humidity

environments
were
similar enough.

Matching snow crystals
were discovered in
Wisconsin USA in 1988.

The crystals were not traditional
flakes but hollow hexagonal prisms
true moral of the snowflake story?

If you want to spend years
trying to identify
identical snowflakes in eye

matching detail; do not use error
random eye memory method
use instant point match computer.

poem by Terence George Craddock
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I Am Snow

I am Snow, I am
I am cold, be damned
I am silent long
I am silent song

I am quiet like
Falling snow at night
I am peaceful...yes
Here on Earth as guest

I am often random
Snowflake not in tandem
Different drummers beat
Destiny to meet

I am beauty wasted
Snowflake seldom tasted
Changing always, ever
Quirky winter weather

I am sometime Blizzard
Hostile, weak-willed wizard
Havoc in my wake
Causing souls to shake

I am Snow I am
I can grow, I can
Sky of beauty white
Touching Heaven's light

poem by Kenneth Snow
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You are not a beautiful, unique snowflake... This is your life, and it's ending one minute at a time.

quote by Chuck Palahniuk
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Snowy Scene

As each new snowfall comes
and covers up the ground
everything beneath it
is still all around.
Our eyes do not see it
so we forget it for a time.
The blanket of snowy white
covers up the grime.

When the snow starts melting
our eyes must then adjust
to the reality of seeing
the soot, the stone and dust.
We like to remember it
and let our mind review
the flaky white landscape
with freshness that was new.

As the flakes are falling
we anticipate the scene.
It reminds us there is nothing
that ever looks that clean.
Integrate this feeling.
Make it a part of you.
For each new snowflake is a gift
that falls for you to view.

poem by Edwina Reizer
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We Are So Fragile

We are so fragile
Advertising lies that are whiter than yours
We are so fragile
They could give us a war just to keep us amused
We are so fragile
I could stay here inside and say its all been done
We are so fragile
Just pretend I never tried, Ill leave it up to you
We are still so young
And it must be wrong but Id do it all the same
We are really so shy
Theres nothing I can do except believe in you
We could always go home
But everyone says this is the place to be
We are so unnatural
But you wouldnt understand, you only deal with men

song performed by by Gary Numan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Am Nothing More...

I am nothing more
Than a window of the World
And through me,
You can only see,
A single and unique view
Of The whole…

My fragile voice
Is nothing but one more
Added to the millions heard
Every single day,
Raising the spirit of humanity…

One single soul
Echoing the sound
Of Love and Peace
But also feeling the pain
Of those in real needs,
Those hungry little ones
Cold and sick…

From the book of life,
I am just a single page
Inking my honest thoughts
Which it mirrors
My humble heart
Given away to the World…

I am a single soul
Just passing through
And leaving behind
My non erasable
And unique footprints
As an unquestionable proof
Of my legacy…

©All Rights Reserved-2012

poem by Romeo Della Valle
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Everytime You Smile

Every time you smile
The world is a happier place
Happiness becomes a little less fragile
The pain gets a little less!
The world gets stronger by the smile
It illuminates the enveloping darkness
Existence appears a little less fragile
One smile lights up another face!

poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
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White... Quiet

The day of her funeral
they came in their thousands
to bless her final rest

snowflake upon snowflake

falling into the empty endless grave

as if prayer
upon prayer

until all was white...quiet.

No people ever came
then...& now.

As a child
she held the treasure

of the first snowflakes falling
one by one

resting on her eyelids
(her mind blossoming
into awe & wonder)

tasting them upon her tongue

as if the sky was shedding itself

the snowflakes came
in their thousands

erasing the language
of the landscape

like a child's drawing

all things dressed in white
all things held in silence.

The day of her funeral
they came in their thousands

snowflake upon snowflake

untill all
was white

...quiet.

poem by Dónall Dempsey
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Fragile

If blood will flow when fresh and steel are one
Drying in the colour of the evening sun
Tomorrows rain will wash the stains away
But something in our minds will always stay
Perhaps this final act was meant
To clinch a lifetimes argument
That nothing comes from violence and nothing ever could
For all those born beneath an angry star
Lest we forget how fragile we are
On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are how fragile we are
On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are how fragile we are
How fragile we are how fragile we are

song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Mocking Fairy

'Won't you look out of your window, Mrs. Gill?'
Quoth the Fairy, nidding, nodding in the garden;
'Can't you look out of your window, Mrs. Gill?'
Quoth the Fairy, laughing softly in the garden;
But the air was still, the cherry boughs were still,
And the ivy-tod neath the empty sill,
And never from her window looked out Mrs. Gill
On the Fairy shrilly mocking in the garden.

'What have they done with you, you poor Mrs. Gill?'
Quoth the Fairy brightly glancing in the garden;
'Where have they hidden you, you poor old Mrs. Gill?'
Quoth the Fairy dancing lightly in the garden;
But night's faint veil now wrapped the hill,
Stark 'neath the stars stood the dead-still Mill,
And out of her cold cottage never answered Mrs. Gill
The Fairy mimbling, mambling in the garden.

poem by Walter de la Mare
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Angel of snow

There are flakes that do not want to fall anymore
From the air similar with a huge mesh of azure
Because of the cold I have an eye of snow
I call you with the other eye as a snow falling around

And it is like it would snow in the rhythm of the music
On the pyre ready to hurt
I'm like a snowflake going up on a hill
When you get ready to put out an evening

I reach out a hand and the world is on fire
Burning the snow with flames
From elbows of frost I am making room are violently
In order to die in the
So, I may in the heat of your eyes

A wind lights the place around
Your smile is lighting up the white morning
While my heart beat has snowed
And an angel has sprained his wing of ice

poem by Costel Zăgan from Emotive pyre (24 December 1979)
Submitted by Costel Zăgan
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End of Ops

I am nearing the end of my journey
The path that I walk is almost done,
Over my shoulder are friends now gone?
In front of me a life, underpinned by yesterday’s fear
For I am in a world where no one belongs

Tomorrow I look through the sight for one more time
My finger, no more the killer and my shoulder
Never to feel the recoil of tracers sent
I have spent too much time bringing Peace to others
It is time for peace to find me.

This letter I write to you

For you have been my rock, and my friend through this ordeal
Your love has been the oasis that protects the candle that is my life
Whose flickering light is fragile, refusing to be extinguished
For it is entwined in my love for you, nourished by your letters
Without which, I would not care for fates demise,

On lonely patrols I am comforted by the beauty of this river,
which reminds me of you
For you are my river and I am the salmon,
happy to wallow in waters so blue
I traverse the waterfall that is your spirit
My strength though faltering, can still conquer these shallows of misfortune
And my courage is strong, as is my love for you
For I can still face the bears that seek to destroy us,

This old warrior has spent too much time in wars arena,
A soldier’s death I will not seek here, for my end is to be with you
To die in your arms, held safe in the spring waters that is your soul.

I am leaving this place, where friends gave so much,
Where sacrifice, and loss dwell,
Where silent widows weep.
Fate has decided, I’m coming home, coming home to a peaceful life
To live again with you, in freedom, my beautiful wife.

poem by Steven Cooke
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I Can

I can lose myself in the beauty of a song I can climb to the top of a cloud in the sky
I can soar through the heavens like a graceful eagle
I can swing from the wings of a butterfly
I can chase the wind down the canyons of my mind
I can catch it in the corner of my memory
I can make it breathe a breath of life into an old love that has died
And I can stand and reminisce a while
In my mind I can be anything I want to be
In my mind I can do anything I want to do except make my mind forget you
I can take a journey to the end of the rainbow
I can go there and back and never leave my room
I can change a heartache into a tiny snowflake
I can take December and turn it into June
In my mind I can be anything...

song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Will Nature At A Time Be Really Lost? (Cavatina Sequence)

(after Archibald MacLeish)

Will nature at a time be really lost,
no snowflake fall
as the world becomes extremely hot,
while big and small
live in a man-made kind of sheer hot hell?
If man kills all;
the fish, each bird, each animal and tree,
what's living will at a time, no more be.

No bird will sing, or even be flying,
tranquility
will be gone in a world as stark as stone,
each thing lovely,
each leaping fish, diving crying great eagle
will die slowly,
when all of the ozone layer is gone
and the greenhouse effect just lingers on.

[Reference: 'The Snowflake Which Is Now And Hence Forever' by Archibald MacLeish.}

poem by Gert Strydom
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Selective

Those that write...
Know there is no easy way to it,
To get it done.
But to do it.

Plagiarist are quick to quote,
And lift whole passages.
With attempts to have their theft flow.
As if one's style can not be recognized.

One who writes,
Knows this upon sight.
It is similar to a game of chess...
Played out like life.
And at one's best.

The more one becomes aware of the game...
It is not who plays,
But how well they do it.
With a signature imprint that is left,
To impress with style.
That separates them from the rest.
And 'that' a plagiarist does not GET!

Even God intended to create,
And make each snowflake...
Unique and different.
A 'purest' would know!
All trees do not bear leaves.
Some bear pine.
Yet few, if any, grow ungrounded.

'Are you talking about trees?
Or plagiarists?
Or or or...chess or both?
What ARE you talking about? '

~Neither.
I want to emphasize the unique,
And different images of each snowflake...
God makes.~

'And I 'listen' to this? '

~That's the point I make exactly.
You have 'chosen' to be selective.
Others are not so particular.
They will pick up and run with anything.~

'And...
I might add.
That is b-a-r-e, 'bare'.'

~Oh?
A selective purest who is also a reading critic?
With time to discern proper word usage?
You should apply that kind of discretion,
To your game.
Perhaps you wouldn't lose as often~

'It's your turn.
Just make a move, okay? '

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Rose

This immortal rose that lovers seek
will be glimpsed by all in youthful peak
for her presence will be on every corner.

And those who confuse that heady perfume
with a lust for love,
will only find winter in an unknown heart
for beauty was always a fragile thing.

We who have seen this gift from above
will always get burned by its light.
The poet and the painter
have perfumed our existence
with loves testimony to this.

The pain and tears fall on empty shield
for love will break your heart
but when we reach out to hold the rose
picked from these fields of hope,
a moment in life unfurls,
love will kiss your soul
and the world belongs to you.

Fleeting are the petals of time
the rose is a symbol to love.
For others it is the pain of life,
to find and lose this immortal gift
leaves a desert where life cannot breathe.

The laughter replaced by silence
the smile that is kept in darkness,
the kiss exiled to the memory.

Love is lost in the deepest pit
of your despair,
the thorns will bleed your soul red
but she can never die.

Love will always leave a spark
that will lead you to redemption
and only death can take this from you.

The rose was never yours to pick
but its creation yours to admire
for your being was made for this.

And as our mortal bodies die
the spirit will seek the rose once more
for in death its petals fall too
blessing the ground of your resting place.

The rose was always yours
and its beauty a source of life
the chains of doubt will always
break in its presence.

The rose is pure
as is your faith in mankind.
It can show you a deeper meaning
for you are the petals of life
she is the perfume of your existence
and it is you that made her life complete.

poem by Steven Cooke
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Autumn

as autumn calls with leaves that fall
as winter soon makes its call
as leaves turn its shade of brown
the sky turns a gloomy gray
the animals search for a place to stay
bitter frost will fill the air
the birds will all fly away
the night of day falls like prey
how i wish summer would stay
in this life of ups and downs
filled with all its different sounds
as the season changes all around
i rid myself of ties that bound
emotions that carry me far from ground
seeking a love never to be found
so i walk up this mound
in my mind i`m never coming down
then you had to come around
with a push of the wind
a snowflake gently touches down

poem by Joseph Whelan
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