Clothed In Beauty
As if chiseled, a fruit-laden branch
Hangs in my garden, asleep - so low...
The trees sleep - and dream? - in moonlight;
And the mystery of their life is near, near...
Even if we cannot grasp it,
The mute language is still intelligible:
They use our beauty to express
How we are one amidst rays and spots of light.
And the tremor of any life's creation
Reveals itself in a lovely form;
And the variance of different things is sweetened
By shared beauty. Multiply it!
And the world will be like this unstirring garden,
Where everything heeds a harmonious silence:
Both stem and flower yield to the dear Earth;
Both flower and stem listen to the Moon.
poem by Vyacheslav Ivanovich Ivanov
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Related quotes
Margaret
I KNOW a garden where white lilies grow,
Under the grey sweet-laden apple boughs;
It is a garden where the roses blow,
And honeysuckle covers half the house.
O happy garden, do you keep the vows
Breathed in your quiet ear beneath the rose,
Or do you tell the tale to each soft wind that blows?
Across your grassy paths she used to stray,
She moved among you like a living flower,
Her beauty drank your beauty every day,
Your beauty decked her beauty every hour.
You gave her rose and lily for a dower,
With all sweet flowers and fruits your bosom bore--
She took them all--and now she comes not any more.
O garden, if you breathe such secret things
To the south wind who loves you, tell him this:
To spread the scented softness of his wings,
And seek that other garden where she is,
And bid him bear no blossom and no kiss;
Only, dear garden, tell the wind to say
How grey the world is grown since Margaret went away!
poem by Edith Nesbit
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A blossom
As it Blooms in silence
I was truly allured
a flower's humble beauty
her future ensured
exceptional glamor I spotted
in this lovely garden of her.
Rain fall softly on her petals
it fell down slowly light as feather
the shimmering and sparkling
of the thick and dripping humid;
condensing in every bud
in this lovely garden of her.
The blurry vision of early dawn fog,
the charming rays of peeking sun,
those silencing sounds of earth
makes most sense of elegance
in this lovely garden of her.
The wind blowing in rhythm
setting free the dancing pecks
the melody of the ambiance,
the sweet smell of honey-nectar,
the aroma of her sincerity
that brings all my joy,
draws every smile in my face
each day of my life
in this lovely garden of her.
Yet there came a time the wind blew hard
Drought came fast and wither starts
little by little her throat seized
grasping her breath she naught fought.
The skies turned black and lights blinks fast
then her crave they overfed to death
overhead came the water dark
'None could ever survive'
They proven wrong...
For the dusk end and the night came
The moon came yet not to help
the tide higher he hath even made..
Alas! Dawn breaks& moon withdraws
The sun came and peek again
in this lovely garden of her...
There the earth witness her wilt
yet new life brought by rain and shine..
a humble blossom in joy and gloom
a story in cycle in this lovely garden of her...
poem by Ellirie Aviles
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A Long Bough
A bough sank down on a fence, and fell asleep –
so shall I sleep.
The fruit has fallen; and what do I care
for my root and stock?
The fruit has fallen, the flower is long forgotten,
only leaves remain.
One day a storm will rage and they will fall,
casualties, to earth.
Afterwards, terrible nights.
No respite, no sleep.
I wrestle alone in darkness, batter
my head on the wall.
Spring will blossom again. Only I
hang on to my stem –
bald shoot with no bud and no flower
no fruit and no leaf.
poem by Hayyim Nahman Bialik
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The Only Flower You Are
A sunbeam caress the only flower from my garden,
What a nice feeling, what a pleasure,
Than to admire the beauty of a flower,
And closing eyes to dream about it.
It's a sweet flower,
Which opened its petals,
To get the joyful morning dew,
And with its fragrance to stun me,
To bring into my heart its magic.
But the most beautiful flower,
That sit next to me,
It's you my love,
You are just a flower bud,
You are all i ever want to hold, ,
You are my dream transposed into reality,
You are my life, my joy.
poem by Cristina Teodor
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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
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~ My Hidden Stem ~
I give you my rose, yet you see it so beautiful all around, the petals so blooming and so lovely, but look at the stem which is my stem, the green root of nevergazing attractivness, that which is hidden, that which is the real and genuine beauty, my nights of eternal desire lie within the stem, but you only see the outside beauty of the painted red petals, the power, the force, the passion, the fountain that spring forth the lifted rose, is found on my stem. For beauty can be easily found, but sheer beauty is not, and you must find me and travel as deep, as lenthly and beyond.
poem by Dandy leo jr.
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Flower to Flower
I came across one flower
While walking in a garden
It saw me and gave a smile
I too smiled and walked
Each day in garden I smiled
One day I gazed at flower
At its plant and roots closely
I observed its dance in wind
And its dance made me sing
It made me smile all my time
Everyday I went to flower
Smiled with it and came back
My days went like seconds
Nights passed like years
Flower made me its lover
So I wrote songs on its dance
On its lovely beautiful smile
All about its charming beauty
And my state of dying slowly
In which I am smiling daily
One day I saw flower singing
In the garden while jogging
Song reveled its moving off
From my garden to a house
Of loved one from its past
I smiled on all my songs
While writing a new song
Its song of flower to flower
Which I gave to my flower
When departing from my lover
poem by Kranthi Pothineni
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I am your Flower
a beautiful flower waved in the wind
bent with the breeze.
you came along, and, noticed it.
stooping down to kneel in the dirt,
you examined its petals
felt its delicate leaves.
you picked the flower,
broke its roots,
and placed its unchained stem into your clasped hand.
you carried the flower with you
showed it to friends, acquaintances,
made everyone take notice
of the beauty you found.
and strangely enough,
this flower did not wilt,
but remained strongly vibrant
in its glass of water
as you carefully attended to it.
yet as the year continued,
you worried and wondered
if maybe your choosing of this flower hurt it.
was it meant to be connected with the earth?
should you have stood and turned away
without choosing this flower
and picking it up for your own?
was your breaking of the stem a mistake?
should you have left it?
these questions filled your mind.
yet your flower remained vibrant and strong
in her glass of water.
confined, no, now free.
and freedom brings its own nourishment.
nourishment that cannot be found
attached to the ground.
you chose the flower above the rest,
and picked her to be yours.
will you keep me?
you have freed me.
my glass of water is refreshing.
your hand clasping my stem is enough
for me to stay and choose you
above the sun, more than the soil,
i cannot wilt if you take care of me as you have.
for a broken stem and a chosen flower
cannot be returned.
i must be kept or left to die.
poem by Lors Dilouley
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All through eternity
All through eternity
Beauty unveils His exquisite form
in the solitude of nothingness;
He holds a mirror to His Face
and beholds His own beauty.
he is the knower and the known,
the seer and the seen;
No eye but His own
has ever looked upon this Universe.
His every quality finds an expression:
Eternity becomes the verdant field of Time and Space;
Love, the life-giving garden of this world.
Every branch and leaf and fruit
Reveals an aspect of His perfection-
They cypress give hint of His majesty,
The rose gives tidings of His beauty.
Whenever Beauty looks,
Love is also there;
Whenever beauty shows a rosy cheek
Love lights Her fire from that flame.
When beauty dwells in the dark folds of night
Love comes and finds a heart
entangled in tresses.
Beauty and Love are as body and soul.
Beauty is the mine, Love is the diamond.
They have together
since the beginning of time-
Side by side, step by step.
What Else Can?
Beauty of Nature makes all love much;
Natural beauty has a special value ever;
Beauty of flower influences love sure....!
Beauty of sea, sky, misty mounts absorb all!
Cascading water fall of Niagara is lovely ever!
Peaceful snow mountains of Himalayas is blissful!
Height of Everest and depth of Pacific are exquisite!
Half setting sun and half rising moon are ever a wonder!
Seas and oceans with such beauty are wonder par excellence!
Colourful butterflies hopping from flower to flower
Surely reflect angels of heaven on earth forever!
Oyster with white pearl is flower unique of sea ever!
If such beautiful Nature does not kindle love, what else can?
If you fail to love such beauty, your life is a great waste sure!
poem by Ramesh T A
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Daybreak is A Glowing Bright Ball
Daybreak is a glowing bright ball
from which the fiery rays shine,
sometimes drops falling along with thunder,
with freshness embracing me when I go outside.
Early morning is a bright sun hanging in the heaven
when the colour of the bright blue
catches you with something full of mystery,
with the wind sometimes clinging to you with fingers.
Spring is flower upon flower
that is spread over fruit trees,
the beauty that astonishes you
when the garden of God stretch into the fields.
Summer is fruit that waits ripe and luring
when everything becomes adult,
sunny day upon sunny day
where the prettiest flowers are still flowering.
Autumn is coloured leaves that are everywhere,
the summer still lingering for the last time
and everything has a secret knowledge
that winter is coming, even every sunray
and nowhere I can find the words of a child,
while I am blinded by the glorious world from being young.
poem by Gert Strydom
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I'll Give You A Flower, Mother
I’ll give you a flower, mother
I’ll give you a flower, dear
For life is but a garden
To children of 5 years
I’ll give you a flower, mother
I’ll give you a flower, dear
For to a bride, they’re lovely
Mother, hold your tears
I’ll give you a flower, mother
I’ll give you a flower, dear
I’ll lay it in your sweet hands
For our time has disappeared
I’ll give you a flower, mother
I’ll give you a flower, dear
When I see you there at heaven
When my time’s done here
poem by Whitney Albright
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Gardner of beauty
Your beauty is like that of a Gardner tending to his flowers making life more beautiful with each day you tend to them. I could only wish to be one of your flowers in your garden and hope to feel your gentle hands as you would tend to me. Your beauty is to me as rain is to a flower, giving it nourishment for life. your beauty is my rain and it makes my love grow for you like that of the flower. Your loving soul is that of Gods warmth coming from the sun to a flower. Your love is my sun and feeling it's warmth to the touch it makes my soul grow as the flower would on a summer day. How I ask to be your flower and you be my gardener of life.
7-1-09
poem for my wife
poem by Timothy Honeycutt
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The Quintessence Of The Flowers
Pensively, come to where the garden is
With your feet sprinting through the brambly sophistication.
Pry - you never did, and you never will - for
The peculiarity of the flowers rouse the tides of your scruple;
The petals are tethered to the body so slender - modest
In a starburst as the malingering shrill of the flower is the
Catalyst of the somersaulting noon-time delight,
Caught by the fancy of this inveigle, the farce has been played out,
Dear agile lover - you dare not pluck this flower for you tremble
In the nullity of its feigned void - there is an augury to be found
In a flower: prolix, sapid and perennial like how the trees
Have witnessed the scowling of the heavens as the mire
Satiates each of the heaven's parcel!
You ask me incessantly now, that you have come to the
Acquaintance of the petals - these wondrous parasols,
The cantankerous thorns cloaking the flower's flagrant body;
These are no more than wry and insidious invitations:
A challenge to the eagerness of your heart to pluck the flower
Out of its perturbed garden as the beasts of the night trample a trifle morose
Anguish all over the tapestry.
Its roots need not an explanation dear love, just open your callow eyes
And there you will see that the petals, the thorns, the curtailed stem,
And the perfunctory silence of the roots are one and the same.
This flower at the cynosure of the garden is a vivid reflection of you,
Conjured, and that is the meaning of the flower:
That forever you are girdled though your thorns
May perforate my entirety, my hands - let it bleed
And that is the meaning of the flower,
That even if the petals - your petals whittle away
I will still hold your reminiscences like that of a multihued petal
Fluttering away into the sea where I look for you.
And your slender body that I will cradle as we sieve
Through everything and anything that will impede
Our inexorable swiftness.
I am the garden, and you are the flower, ceaselessly
I will girdle you until the vale abates into nothingness.
poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr
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Golden Daffodil's
Oh, what joy my eyes behold
To see such beauty there unfold,
And my heart with pleasure fills
When sun from ebbing winter days
Bring forth the Golden Daffodil's.
Lovely flower, majestic king
Who God awakes in early spring
So cloth'd in all your golden hue
No flower on the garden scene
Is as beautiful as you.
With silent voices and knodding heads
Gayly dancing in swirling beds
Your beauty in the garden spills,
And lifts the lonely hearts of all
Oh, Daffodil's, Oh, Daffodil's.
Dazzling in your sunny place
You fill the garden with poise and grace
Your smell is sweet, your color bold,
And for the often pensive mood
You are the flower to the soul.
All too soon under an early spring sky
Leaves will yellow, crumble and die
Sweet flower that we long to stay
Slips away in peaceful sleep
To stir our hearts another day.
By
Richard Netherland Cook
poem by Richard Netherland Cook
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Life is Like A Flower
Life is like a flower.
It starts out as a seed,
Then a root,
A stem with a leaf,
Leaves and then a beautiful flower.
A baby.
Then learns how 2 talk,
Then the child is a flower.
Life is like a flower,
You are a flower
poem by LeLe Gallon
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Friendship's Flower
Life is like a garden
And friendship like a flower,
That blooms and grows in beauty
With the sunshine and the shower.
And lovely are the blossoms
That are tended with great care,
By those who work unselfishly
To make the place more fair.
And, like the garden blossoms,
Friendship's flower grows more sweet
When watched and tended carefully
By those we know and meet.
And, if the seed of friendship
Is planted deep and true
And watched with understanding,
Friendship's flower will bloom for you.
poem by Winniek Koh
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FriendShip Flowers
Life is like a garden
And friendship like a flower,
That blooms and grows in beauty
With the sunshine and the shower.
And lovely are the blossoms
That are tended with great care,
By those who work unselfishly
To make the place more fair.
And, like the garden blossoms,
Friendship's flower grows more sweet
When watched and tended carefully
By those we know and meet.
And, if the seed of friendship
Is planted deep and true
And watched with understanding,
Friendship's flower will bloom for you (
poem by Mazher Sheikh
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The Son-Flower...
The Son-Flower Refuses Darkness
Keeps Petals Blocked, in Black-Blight
Its Stem and Leaves Won’t Fall
And Only Opens To The Light
It Reaches Toward The Son
It Faces Towards The Sky
And Follows Every Step
Of Son-Shine (or Gives A Good Try)
And When Its Fully Flowered
It’s A Beauty to Behold!
And So The Son-Light Gives It
The Rich Color of Son-Gold …
… To Reflect The Son’s Path
And To Bask in Full Son-Power
Oh How Lovely and Loyal
Is The Faithful Son-Flower
poem by MoonBee Canady
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A Dying Flower
Each Flower Petal Slowly Dying
Light Whispers Of Death
Hanging In The Brisk Afternoon Air
Lightly A Petal Floats Towards The Ground
A Gust Of Wind Quickly Whisks It Away
One By One The Flower Becomes Bearer
As Each Petal Vanishes.
The Day's Become Darker
The Nights Lighten
And The Flower Becomes Lonely
Till Eventually Only A Stem Remains
To Show It's Cycle Of Life.
The Flower Willows Towards It's End
The Petals Become Scarce
What Once Used To Be A Colour Delight
Now Hangs In Deaths Mist
As An Emerald Waiting...
Waiting For The Last Petal To Die.
Finally The Emerald Stem Dies Away
And Slowly Decay
For Again One Day
It Shall Show Its Colours
And Whistle In The Wind
With All It's Petals In Full Bloom...
poem by Ian Humphreys
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