Italian Myrtles
By many a soft Ligurian bay
The myrtles glisten green and bright,
Gleam with their flowers of snow by day,
And glow with fire-flies through the night,
And yet, despite the cold and heat,
Are ever fresh, and pure, and sweet.
There is an island in the West,
Where living myrtles bloom and blow,
Hearts where the fire-fly Love my rest
Within a paradise of snow-
Which yet, despite the cold and heat,
Are ever fresh, and pure, and sweet.
Deep in that gentle breast of thine-
Like fire and snow within the pearl-
Let purity and love combine,
O warm, pure-hearted Irish girl!
And in the cold and in the heat
Be ever fresh, and pure, and sweet.
Thy bosom bears as pure a snow
As e'er Italia's bowers can boast,
And though no fire-fly lends its glow-
As on the soft Ligurian coast-
'Tis warmed by an internal heat
Which ever keeps it pure and sweet.
The fire-flies fade on misty eves-
The inner fires alone endure;
Like rain that wets the leaves,
Thy very sorrows keep thee pure-
They temper a too ardent heat-
And keep thee ever pure and sweet.
poem by Denis Florence MacCarthy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Snow Fall in the Moonlight
Snow fall in the moonlight,
Like soft cotton falling from the sky,
Covering the ground and bushes in pure white,
Glowing beautifully in the night of December.
Snow fall in the moonlight,
Like a child I walked happily through the pure white snow,
Making soft crackling sound in the silent winter night,
When I reached the far end of the open field,
I turned to see the path I had taken,
A straight line through the pure white snow.
Snow fall in the moonlight,
Can there be a more beautiful sight than this?
As I look into the night sky,
And the soft snow flakes touches my face,
I breathe the fresh cold air of the winter night.
As I stood alone in silence, stillness in the air,
My feeling and longing comes to my lips,
And I thank Allah for this beautiful moment,
A chance to see snow fall in the moonlight!
(In memory of Belgian winter,1986)
poem by Spiritual Seeker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Passions Embrace
As the ember glowed in the fire to heat
so too did the bodies in sweat
for the passions of love that were mingled in lust
burst forth in the sand without shame
The freedom to love in the oceans so pure
unbridled in a passionate thirst
did bring forth a cry of a satisfied soul
that was spent in the heat of the night
The fire that raged now simmered down light
to an simmer of warmth and embrace
and the heat that was strong
now ebbed and subdued, relinquishing all of its lust
When two souls entwine in the spirit of one
all wonders on earth can be seen
and just as the fire that once burned so bright
so does the yearning to release
poem by Marama Kelly
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Dress of Snow
“Dress of snow”
In a snow covered coffin
Her remains were laid to rest
Her god created a snow blanket
For one of his best
She lived a life so pure
Always thinking of others
Now a carpet of snow lay
For the mother of mothers
Not walking on a carpet of red
Her carpet was just right for her
A carpet of pure driven snow
Just as pure as her
MICMAC
poem by Michael Micmac Mccrory
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Snow...
I know not how I'll die.
I know not the time,
but what I do know
is that I will die.
It may not be tomorrow.
It may not be next year.
But what I do know
is that there will be snow.
I love snow.
It glitters and glissens.
I love snow.
It's like a blessin'.
Snow is pure.
Snow is white.
But most of all
it's a wonderful sight.
But the snow won't be pure.
The snow won't be white.
Because when I die
it will show a horrible sight.
poem by Michelle Dickson
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Spirit Of Fire In The Water
Light, celebrated in the flame
The heat burning through the shine
Warm kiss of the waving touch
Comfy, lean on the surfaces
Embodied as the heat, spirit of fire
Enliven small body with desires
Changed when it feed with anger
Growing bigger, burning hearts of other
Cursed touches left to be ashes, gray color
Minutes in reigning power
Now the fire goes down
Gone, when the sky cries
Dropping the purest water
Silent the fire, suppressed the anger
Somehow when extinction of warm
Welcoming the rise of arrogant
Water empowered with freezing touch
Frozen as snow, hot turn cold
When power flaming ego in the fire,
As also arrogant freezing the water
Heat left, diffused with miracles
Till there's nothing for each other
When tolerate not in heart of lovers
Spirit of fire, burning in the sun
Kissed the land sealed with heat warm
Melt the icy heart, sent by celebrated sunlight
The snow white in the winter alive again
Liquid as freedom, ice captured the warm
Back to flow through the river it goes
A love shared between fire and water
Two bodies of untouchable
Unites into one shared kiss
Preserve the heat into modesty
Warming when it's too cold
Cooling when it's too hot
Tolerate of two bodies
water and fire in a bond of heat
Spirit of fire swim in the heart of water
Promised harmony, keep warm in the winter
Bringing cold refreshing in this summer
Ego of each in such altered flow spirit tendency
Create a world of respect and tolerate
When two show powers holding together
Seal cold to the fire, and flame fire to the ice
Burning love in frozen hearts
Living in warm ice forever after
As spirit of fire In the water
poem by Unwritten Soul
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Winter In The Fall
Five inches of cold, white, snow
Confront my door
Where is my shovel
Need I slog up the hill
Shall I clear my way down
From the shed
Past the unfinished greenhouse
Past the snow filled trench
The pickax and spade are buried
Somewhere beneath that soft, cold blanket
My warm fire is burning orange and blue
Looking out at a distant window light
The pure, clean of this first thick snow
Seems benign
Exactly right this morning
The unplowed road and driveway
Wait until the sun
November 15,1997
poem by Marjorie DeBol DeFazio
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Snow Flakes
as i look out of my window i see snow flakes
blowing all around landing gently on the ground.
the falling flakes set my heart all aglow.
as it makes a blanket of pure white snow.
creating such a beautiful sight.
the snow just like a heart can be gentle to the touch
yet! cold as ice.
if you plan on playing with it you better think twice.
the heart is the most complex part of the human body
it controls the entire anatomy.
so as the snow trickles down and creates a picture of purity.
and its coldness touches my bones
in my heart grows the warmth of a fire
with all of its desire.
to melt the coldness in your heart
just so you could see.
even the coldest of hearts can belong to me.
but when you want true beauty look up to the sky.
it is not the snow flakes coming down
but the love of god which is all around.
poem by Louis Rams
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A Campfire
There's something ‘bout a fire and the mesmerizing glow
Of its dancing, flick'ring embers that does enthrall me so
A soft and gentle fire slowly glowing in the night
Soothing, calming, warming. It is such a pure delight
The best time for a fire's when the flames they have died down
And the crackling and the popping all have ceased
All the flurry and the groaning, all the hurry and the churning
All have gone, and now the fire is at peace
poem by Neil Milliner
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Verses from the Shepherds' Hymn
WE saw Thee in Thy balmy nest,
Young dawn of our eternal day;
We saw Thine eyes break from the East,
And chase the trembling shades away:
We saw Thee, and we blest the sight,
We saw Thee by Thine own sweet light.
Poor world, said I, what wilt thou do
To entertain this starry stranger?
Is this the best thou canst bestow--
A cold and not too cleanly manger?
Contend, the powers of heaven and earth,
To fit a bed for this huge birth.
Proud world, said I, cease your contest,
And let the mighty babe alone;
The phoenix builds the phoenix' nest,
Love's architecture is His own.
The babe, whose birth embraves this morn,
Made His own bed ere He was born.
I saw the curl'd drops, soft and slow,
Come hovering o'er the place's head,
Off'ring their whitest sheets of snow,
To furnish the fair infant's bed.
Forbear, said I, be not too bold;
Your fleece is white, but 'tis too cold.
I saw th' obsequious seraphim
Their rosy fleece of fire bestow,
For well they now can spare their wings,
Since Heaven itself lies here below.
Well done, said I; but are you sure
Your down, so warm, will pass for pure?
No, no, your King 's not yet to seek
Where to repose His royal head;
See, see how soon His new-bloom'd cheek
'Twixt mother's breasts is gone to bed!
Sweet choice, said we; no way but so,
Not to lie cold, you sleep in snow!
She sings Thy tears asleep, and dips
Her kisses in Thy weeping eye;
She spreads the red leaves of Thy lips,
That in their buds yet blushing lie.
She 'gainst those mother diamonds tries
The points of her young eagle's eyes.
Welcome--tho' not to those gay flies,
Gilded i' th' beams of earthly kings,
Slippery souls in smiling eyes--
But to poor shepherds, homespun things,
Whose wealth 's their flocks, whose wit 's to be
Well read in their simplicity.
Yet, when young April's husband show'rs
Shall bless the fruitful Maia's bed,
We'll bring the first-born of her flowers,
To kiss Thy feet and crown Thy head.
To Thee, dread Lamb! whose love must keep
The shepherds while they feed their sheep.
To Thee, meek Majesty, soft King
Of simple graces and sweet loves!
Each of us his lamb will bring,
Each his pair of silver doves!
At last, in fire of Thy fair eyes,
Ourselves become our own best sacrifice!
poem by Richard Crashaw
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Winter Love
when it begins to get cold
and the snow begins to fall
love shines like pure gold
cuddled together by the coals
watching movies
playing board games
patching up the memories
you will never be bored
for true love
is a fire
the core of your heart
just keep that fire hot
soon when winter ends
the fire might come to an end
and you will always remember that winter
even in the light of summer
poem by Jason Lovelace
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Take Back the Virgin Page
Written on Returning a Blank Book
Take back the virgin page,
White and unwritten still;
Some hand, more calm and sage,
The leaf must fill.
Thoughts come, as pure as light
Pure as even you require;
But, oh! each word I write
Love turns to fire.
Yet let me keep the book:
Oft shall my heart renew,
When on its leaves I look,
Dear thoughts of you.
Like you, 'tis fair and bright;
Like you, too bright and fair
To let wild passion write
One wrong wish there.
Haply, when from those eyes
Far, far away I roam,
Should calmer thoughts arise
Towards you and home;
Fancy may trace some line,
Worthy those eyes to meet,
Thoughts that not burn, but shine,
Pure, calm, and sweet.
And as, o'er ocean far,
Seamen their records keep,
Led by some hidden star
Through the cold deep;
So may the words I write
Tell through what storms I stray --
You still the unseen light,
Guiding my way.
poem by Thomas Moore
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The Winter Haven Rose
Down by the river flow of the old shady oak tree
God sends His pure Love and lovingly sings to me
Consider My beauty surrounding mountain and streams
Know love that's abounding in the Word of My dreams
The Snow Fairy rose is delicious, amidst green leaves
A brilliant Pink Iceberg rose of winter won’t cleave
As the snow-capped mountain tops, this love is pure
Comparative to those acts of righteous saint's allure
Such a rose, a sweet fragrant nectar attracting pests
Although life’s never a fairytale enchantment, at best
As trials beset, then time to rest in the Rose of Sharon
Let hummingbirds naturally rest near and avoid the barren
poem by ArmourQuill Hunter
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Sonnet 19
Ah no; nor I my seife: though my pure love
(Sweete Ganymede) to thee hath still beene pure,
And even till my last gaspe shall aie endure,
Could ever thy obdurate beuty move:
Then cease oh Goddesse sonne (for sure thou art,
A Goddesse sonne that canst resist desire)
Cease thy hard heart, and entertaine loves fire,
Within thy sacred breast: by Natures art.
And as I love thee more then any Creature,
(Love thee, because thy beautie is divine:
Love thee, because my selfe, my soule is thine:
Wholie devoted to thy lovelie feature),
Even so of all the vowels, I and U,
Are dearest unto me, as doth ensue.
poem by Richard Barnfield
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Purify
Tear it down
Strip the layers off
My turpentine
Old paint, old looks
Cover up the past
White heat, white light
Super white bones
Bones of you and I
Pure if I...can't you help me?
Pure if I...won't you help me?
Purify you and I
Purify you and I
Pure if I...can't you help me?
Pure if I...won't you help me?
You and I purify
Truth and dare
Peeling back the skin
Acid wash
Ghost white
Ultra Clean
Wanna be skeleton
Clear eyes
Diamond eyes
Strip the past of mine
My sweet turpentine
I can find the dirt on anything
I can find the dirt on anything
I ain't dancing with your skeletons
I ain't dancing with what might have been
song performed by by Metallica
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Matins, Or Morning Prayer
When with the virgin morning thou dost rise,
Crossing thyself come thus to sacrifice;
First wash thy heart in innocence; then bring
Pure hands, pure habits, pure, pure every thing.
Next to the altar humbly kneel, and thence
Give up thy soul in clouds of frankincense.
Thy golden censers fill'd with odours sweet
Shall make thy actions with their ends to meet.
poem by Robert Herrick
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A Dead Rose
O Rose! who dares to name thee?
No longer roseate now, nor soft, nor sweet;
But pale, and hard, and dry, as stubble-wheat,---
Kept seven years in a drawer---thy titles shame thee.
The breeze that used to blow thee
Between the hedgerow thorns, and take away
An odour up the lane to last all day,---
If breathing now,---unsweetened would forego thee.
The sun that used to smite thee,
And mix his glory in thy gorgeous urn,
Till beam appeared to bloom, and flower to burn,---
If shining now,---with not a hue would light thee.
The dew that used to wet thee,
And, white first, grow incarnadined, because
It lay upon thee where the crimson was,---
If dropping now,---would darken where it met thee.
The fly that lit upon thee,
To stretch the tendrils of its tiny feet,
Along thy leaf's pure edges, after heat,---
If lighting now,---would coldly overrun thee.
The bee that once did suck thee,
And build thy perfumed ambers up his hive,
And swoon in thee for joy, till scarce alive,---
If passing now,---would blindly overlook thee.
The heart doth recognise thee,
Alone, alone! The heart doth smell thee sweet,
Doth view thee fair, doth judge thee most complete,---
Though seeing now those changes that disguise thee.
Yes, and the heart doth owe thee
More love, dead rose! than to such roses bold
As Julia wears at dances, smiling cold!---
Lie still upon this heart---which breaks below thee!
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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Sweeter Than Wine
The Almond flowers,
With buds and blossoms from my lover;
How sweet is the entrance of your tent?
Braided chains of pure gold,
The apple of your sweetest love;
With pure incense of sweet spices.
On one branch,
On one's love,
With buds and blossoms from her taste;
An Olive Oil from her light to share with you like,
That of her skills and abilities.
Your sweet love crowns the night,
In the midst of her mountains with love;
This is my deisre towards her.
Her love is sweeter than wine,
See how her breasts feed among the Lilies;
Of the Almond flowers,
Refresh me with your sweet apples my love;
You are so beautiful among women my love,
Your sweet aroma of the Almond flowers fills my soul.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Purity
Purity grows from the heart, of the heart,
Just like the heart it bleeds from pain,
And it is succinct in its appearance,
Lots of love are made from it,
Open fire is tossed onto those in hatred
Of the pure ones, the peaceful presidents
That change their age throughout life,
Who order the children, gaze at no sin,
Fire a person from profession.
Purity is an order from the faithful,
And my heart reaches out for them
For they are pure.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Dark Fire
Fire, dark and burning bright
Bright as day, yet, gives no light
In the shadows of the night
Take away immortal sight
Blind soul eyes with black twilight
Banish day and burn the night
Remove sin from Heavens sight
Fire, twist and taint the once pure light
Heaven fought against your might
In the end, He lost the fight
Pure souls surrender to the evil light
As shadows move to reign the night
Angel's wings flutter in fearful flight
In the shadow of your light
Fire, sweet and sin filled bane
Make the devil go insane
As you burn his skin with acid rain
His screams are songs wrought in pain
His wake of Hell’s dark fire wanes
Death and pain are what he gains
Shadows of the devil’s bane
Wash away his sin with His holy name
Fire of the dragon’s heart
Don’t let us tear the world apart
poem by Amanda Swain
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Untouched by Grace, but not by Snow
Waking up, noticing the ground
To my surprise I am surround by snow
Every detail in which was lay
With perfect precise wonder
In this most daring betray of beauty
And all is quiet
All is so annoyingly quiet
The dirt that is covered peeks through the ground
Destroying what was once beauty
That was pronounced by the glistened snow
And all I can do is wonder
How this world become simple to lay
When sleep takes us on we lay
And all is deeply quiet
Our dreams become our wonder
Weather we stand on solid ground
An undefined map layer out by snow
Creates to us sleeping beauty
But what is this beauty?
And where does it lay?
What is understood to be a lie as white as snow
And all has become a false quiet
Life, which puts our burdens to the ground
And here we are left to wonder
To whom to we place our wonder
The one who holds onto your beauty?
Who picks you up off the ground
And will be contempt as you lay
This is the lovely quiet
Dawn, of our love as pure as snow
To ask what is this snow
Pure, grace, love to which we wonder
Making this moment freeze in quiet
Holding unto this betrayed beauty
Which pours unto us as we lay
To the emissive ground
To become as pure as snow is beauty
But do we wonder under stars we lay?
And all was quiet as the snow flake touched ground