The Rose of Midnight
The moon is now an opening flower,
The sky a cliff of blue.
The moon is now a silver rose;
Her pollen is the dew.
Her pollen is the mist that swings
Across her face of dreams:
Her pollen is the April rain,
Filling the April streams.
Her pollen is eternal life,
Endless ambrosial foam.
It feeds the swarming stars and fills
Their hearts with honeycomb.
The earth is but a passion-flower
With blood upon his crown.
And what shall fill his failing veins
And lift his head, bowed down?
This cup of peace, this silver rose
Bending with fairy breath
Shall lift that passion-flower, the earth
A million times from Death!
poem by Vachel Lindsay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
It Is The Details, Be Aware, And Then Be Creative
he could not believe you
when you enumerated all the parts of the flower
what he meant perhaps was only a petal
how it smells at six o'cock in the evening
when you are with him but you said, in all completer
scientific details as follows:
the flower is made of its:
1.Petals are used to attract insects into the flower,
they may have guidelines on them and be scented.
2.Stigma Is covered in a sticky substance that the pollen grains will adhere to.
3. The style raises the stigma away from the Ovary to decrease the likelihood of pollen contamination. It varies in length.
4.Ovary This protects the ovule and once fertilisation has taken place it will become the fruit.
5. The Ovule is like the egg in animals and once fertilisation has taken place will become the seed.
6.Receptacle This is the flower's attachment to the stalk and in some cases becomes part of the fruit after fertilisation e.g. strawberry.
7.Flower stalk Gives support to the flower and elevates the flower for the insects.
8.Nectary This is where a sugary solution called nectar is held to attract insects.
9.Sepal Sepals protect the flower whilst the flower is developing from a bud.
10.Filament This is the stalk of the Anther.
11.Anther The Anthers contain pollen sacs. The sacs release pollen on to the outside of the anthers that brush against insects on entering the flowers. The pollen once deposited on the insect is transferred to the stigma of another flower or the same flower. The ovule is then able to be fertilised.
he could have been sad. He wants the poetic sense of things
not the scientific, realistic approach
to something, like a flower,
the symbol of his love for you.
You busy yourself, without feelings.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Faith Flights To Flower Heavens
heart muscles surrounded in a reservoir of blood
pollen call is rainbow pot of gold to El Dorado
vessels of golden one flower air in fertilization
flights seed flowers in colours shapes miraculous
heavens ablaze with colour shape smell lure scent
heaven promise nectar pollen rewards await joy flight
heaven wing tips away thick bee hair pile insulation
heaven journey flights thick pile warm in cold weather
bumble bees fly flight build up electrostatic charge
flowers well grounded pollen lured electrostatically
attracted compelled to bumble bees pile when lands
pollen covered bee enter flower heaven charge pollen
pollen charged priority preferentially attracted to stigma
stigma better grounded than other parts of visit flower
wealth amassed pollen all mother load easy pick treasure
bumble bee pollination gifts life to seed crops wildflowers
Copyright © Terence George Craddock
See also the poems ‘Flights Of Impossibility’ and ‘Pollen Call Is Rainbow Pot Of Gold To El Dorado’.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Love is like a delicate flower
Love is like a delicate flower.
But no water is needed for its existence.
Only gentle words to feed its roots,
and passion to help it grow.
Trust to help it stand against the breeze
Kindness to carry its pollen far.
And as this flower grows,
so does the wonder of life
never alone will one soul be,
as long as the flower blooms
No frost to shatter its fragility.
poem by Ben Littlechild
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Self-forgetfulness
....Gentle smooth touch
Of flower petals,
Swallowing the kiss,
An angry buzzing bumblebee
Fluffy and painted
Like in a thousand colors
Leaving the pollen
On the fingertip,
Inhaling the pollen
For tasting the flower,
Sitting in that field of daffodils,
Yellow daffodils,
For dreaming love
Until self-forgetfulness,
For waking up,
The dew shining on the leaves,
The breast caressing,
Tasting the milk,
Caressing the skin,
Long hair touching
The increasing beard
And the flower flavor,
Flooding the mouths,
While kissing
And bearing all these....
poem by Marieta Maglas
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Prose to a Rose
Such A flower is the rose
Its colour bursting red
Such a flower if the rose
The flower of passion the poets often said
I could gaze upon its beauty
And not lift thine eyes
And when it closes its petals to go to sleep
A tear of sadness rises in my eyes
Such a flower is the rose
For it reminds me of you my dear
When ever I gaze upon a rose
It makes me wish you were here
Its petals are soft as thy skin
The colour like your lips
Its fragrance is sweet and pure
Like the flavor of your kiss
Such a flower is the rose it beauty
Has been endless through out time
And when ever I see a rose be reassured my love
You are for ever on my mind
poem by John A. Hancock
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Flower Obsession
I, a bee
buzz, land, flee
Climb in your flower
Swap sweet pollen
Flower Child
My flower obsession
Not Everyone Looks Forward To Spring
Although it is a time of bloom and blossom
When wild birds build their nests and breed and sing
It also is a time of heavy pollen
And not everybody looks forward to the Spring.
The garden in full bloom is looking lovely
And blossoms on the bushes and the trees
But pollen by the warm breeze is carried
And you hear some people sniffle, cough and sneeze.
The beauty of Spring on the artist's canvas
And Spring inspire the lyric poet to rhyme
But all of those who have an allergy to pollen
Will tell you that Spring is not their favourite time.
Not every one yearns for the warm weather
Or for the scents of blossom, rose and flower
You cannot enjoy the beauty of a sunlit garden
If you cough and sneeze one hundred times an hour.
It is a time of greenery and beauty
When wild birds build their nests and breed and sing
And Mother Nature she is at her loveliest
But not everyone looks forward to the Spring.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The fairy at the bottom of my Garden
There's a fairy at the bottom of my garden
she flits in and out of my flowers
I can sit on the step here
and watch her
she stays there for hours and hours
Her wings and so golden and flimsy
Her little body a few inches in size
but her heart is her biggest attraction
and that isn't any surprise
For the fairy at the bottom of my garden
spends her day saving the bees
for they keep on taking the pollen
but dropping it each time they sneeze
I bet you didn't know that the buzzers
had allergies from pollen, sad hey?
the sound that you thought was just buzzing
are bee's that are sneezing away
Now this fairy works hard as she
gathers the droplets of sweet
pollen that fall
diving and swooping and gathering up
and rolling it into a ball
She sings an enchanting little melody
that sounds like a gentle wind chime
Oh how I would love to have a fairy
to pick up after me all the time
poem by Janice M Pickett
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Lackluster Poet
I don't want
to know
anymore
dangerous men
better
a flower
with a bird
eating pollen
from my head.
poem by Vince Gullaci
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A Gardener cries in the Autumn
When a bee flies from a flower to another flower
collecting pollen,
I can feel the flower's depression.
But she never says; 'leave me alone'
and she always bloom.
Blossom, I thought you are everlasting.
But eventually the unchanging rigorous wind
comes from a wrong direction
and he takes you away,
where a place call far beyond infinity?
Dedication to the poetess / friend Melvina.Germain
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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New Flowers, New Universes
a million years for a flower to unveil
its magic to us - fragrance, shades
and the art of divine creation
filamen, pistils, stagmen, pollen..
petal by petal, inch by inch,
second by second,
sun and moon, moon and sun
a million other universes
accompany the bloom
as it slowly, surely
digests the world
to show us its beauty
as the bloom crowns
us all at the apex of its wonder
- a million other universes
too have been born and
shuttle towards achieving
a full bloom in the heavens
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Ode to a Bumble Bee
I sat and watched a little bumble bee
as he dashed from flower to flower,
collecting pollen here and there,
then he would fly off to his hive somewhere,
to help produce more honey.
That busy little bumble bee.
(7 July 2007)
poem by David Harris
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A Gem In Us
Life taught us a lesson,
to appreciate with passion.
Life taught us a song,
that we have to sing along.
Appreciating souls are few,
the rest are at curfew.
Relax and think, we may understand,
When pollen appreciate a flower,
When a peahen appreciates a dancing peacock,
When a teacher appreciates a student,
When a leader appreciates the followers,
When I appreciate you and you appreciate me,
a gem of harmony evolves from our hearts.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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My beautiful rose flower
My beautiful rose flower, you look so beautiful, gorgeous and attractive, i don't know how to place you, you make my head go zigzag
people insult you, drag you to the ground, their reason is because they see you as an ordinary flower, to me you are much more precious than diamond, beautiful than the morning dew
Your red color attract various insect
Your pollen grain perfume or aroma is very fantastic to make them bow to eat , the bees bow at your feet, the butterfly bow at your feet, the flies bow at your feet
You feed the multitude of insect which makes you much more charitable and sought after by all
When hunger strike at night, makes me pale, headache knocking persistently on my head, given me no enough room to cry out,
tears running down my cheeks profusely with no stop gap to aid it up
The cloud has becloud their terrible mind full of evil without any restriction you will say
The wickedness of men will continue to hunt them unless they give up their evil plot, evil device they planned for you
My white shirt stained trying to defend you
I will continue to defend and protect you with my last blood against all odds, if i give up the ghost in the process at least i will stand fulfilled on earth, on my honor i will make it come to pass,
ho! my beautiful rose flower
poem by Olayemi Ayo
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You Are The Flower
You never lose a minute, if in it there is love
And old man time always pulls you through
Its better not to depend on the morning dew
For the rose you plant in your bed tends to you, hard and blue
Some folks take money, some take their life, some take forever to see
Blind faith, blind love, theyre no mystery to me
You must take the time, for thats the fee
Chorus:
Its worth the pain that makes the tears
Its worth the light of a million years
Only your love I cant explain, you are the flower for my rain
You light the sun that shines from my eyes
Its all in return for what youre givin me
You are the reason for the earth beneath my feet
And you kill the space that I call free
Chorus:
(instrumental break)
You are the flower for my rain, you are the flower for my rain
You are the flower for my rain, you are the flower for my rain
You are the flower for my rain, you are the flower for my rain
song performed by by Toto
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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PaSSioN FLoWeR
He was a young lad
Endless dreams she had
She was a flowered rose
She made all sacrifices to make him her spouse
For days, he was the Helios
Without him, she was in pathos
The white dress she wears
No matter how living; there are no fears
Love could un-shed all her tears…
Even on removing the white dress
It seems that the life was full of gladness
In the times before the wedding
Life was as sweets as pudding
Now the time of the vow has gone
She removes the white dress
And is forced into love’s black dress
The life seems full of stress
The gentleman removed the mask of softness and gentleness…
He was showing her his flair
But it was a built castle in the air
Passion Flower she has become
She bathes on a sad realm
She wears a heart of mourning
Passion Flower is crying
'''''From Zenith to Nadir I letdown
Just prayers and pleas I own'''''
Her eyes are in perplexity
All things developed to complexity
The white dress was forsaken leaving obscurity
And finished are the days of serenity and tranquility
What a pity! ! ! ! ! ! !
Little by little, Passion Flower has faded away
My Passion Flower is wilted and is fading away
Little by little, Passion Flower has bowed to the sadness
Little by little, Passion Flower has bent to the faintness
Her Heaven turned into haziness
Her Bliss turned into darkness
Her Dreamland turned into fogginess
Her Paradise turned into distress
For the sake of her children she is fighting
Really now, there is no more lighting…
Pretty Passion Flower
May ALLAH send you power
To pull up your thorn
Pretty Passion Flower
May ALLAH send you power
To stay nice in your cocoon
May ALLAH send you Peace
To live your life at ease
Without any male disease...
Pretty Passion Flower please keep scenting
For the sake of your Angels, Love and care try sending
Pretty Passion Flower please don’t be withered
Pretty Passion Flower you wrongfully suffered
But, ''Pretty Passion Flower please don’t be withered! ’'
From now on he is far! ! !
Free from his pain you are…
{August 20,2009}
poem by Glamorous Enigma
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Flower Blooms As The Universe
a million years for a flower
to unveil the art of divine creation
to us - fragrance, shades, curves,
texture and minute ingenious designs
- filamens, pistils, stagmens, pollen..
orchids, roses, crocuses, geraniums
petal by petal, inch by inch,
second by second,
sun and moon, moon and sun
a million other universes
accompany the bloom
as it slowly, surely
digests the world
to show us its beauty
as the bloom crowns us all
at the apex of its wonder
- a million other universes
too have been born and
move inch by inch
towards achieving
a full bloom in the heavens
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Madrigal [Madrigal]
Upon my dreams – red roses bringing luck –
Blue butterfly, you for a while did stay,
Your flimsy wings you nice and easy stuck
Then, with some grains of pollen went away,
To find a flower, maybe fair and new,
So off you flew, blue thing, in nature's blue...
And watched the roses, which were full of dew,
But didn't know that roses shed tears, too.
poem by Al. O. Teodoreanu, translated by Octavian Cocoş
Submitted by anonym
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April Again
April again! the willow wands are yellow
Rose-red the brambles that the passing wind knows,
Comes a robin's note like the note of a 'cello,
And across the valley, the calling of the crows,-
'April again!'
April again! and the marsh birds swinging
Over the rushes that belong to yester-year;
Silver shines the river, and young lips are singing
Songs as old as Eden-as old and as dear;
'April again!'
April again! with a wet wind blowing,
And along the western sky a pathway of gold;
Sounds a call to follow the road we're not knowing,
A new road-a wild road-o'er fairy lands unrolled,-
'April again!'
April again! with its wonder of gladness,
April with its haunting joy, and swift-stinging tears,-
Month of mist and music, and the old moon-madness,
Month of magic fluting, the spirit only hears,-
'April again!'
poem by Virna Sheard
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Your Laughter
Take bread away from me, if you wish,
take air away, but
do not take from me your laughter.
Do not take away the rose,
the lance flower that you pluck,
the water that suddenly
bursts forth in joy,
the sudden wave
of silver born in you.
My struggle is harsh and I come back
with eyes tired
at times from having seen
the unchanging earth,
but when your laughter enters
it rises to the sky seeking me
and it opens for me all
the doors of life.
My love, in the darkest
hour your laughter
opens, and if suddenly
you see my blood staining
the stones of the street,
laugh, because your laughter
will be for my hands
like a fresh sword.
Next to the sea in the autumn,
your laughter must raise
its foamy cascade,
and in the spring, love,
I want your laughter like
the flower I was waiting for,
the blue flower, the rose
of my echoing country.
Laugh at the night,
at the day, at the moon,
laugh at the twisted
streets of the island,
laugh at this clumsy
boy who loves you,
but when I open
my eyes and close them,
when my steps go,
when my steps return,
deny me bread, air,
light, spring,
but never your laughter
for I would die.
poem by Pablo Neruda
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