Linda And Friends' Hampton Beach Gardens
Crimson,
Sun yellow,
Fairy rose pink,
Blue, Paris lavender
And soft white -
Colors are afloat!
Some rippling flowers
At Hampton Beach
Bloom in roadside island gardens
And in their own rowboats.
The flowers
And more blossoms, too,
Welcome sandy feet, sea gulls,
And sailing butterflies alike.
The beach blossoms
Hold pure sunshine,
Delighting all ages,
From the very old
To little tykes.
How the bright petals shine
During a magical day
By the seashore
In the summery sun!
It is fun to see the beach gardens' treasures
Blooming
Around magnificent Happy Hampton!
Once the spots where the pretty flowers
Now catch the sunbeams
Were just plain dirt
Or bare, hard concrete.
Today the shimmery flowers,
Bringing joyful tidings,
Have our families and friends
To greet.
poem by Gayle Sweeney
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Flowers
(orbison/dees)
When I was a boy I ran among the flowers
Looking left and right at the bright array
I played through the spring, whiled away the hours
Lingered with the flowers every day
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, lifes bouquet
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, along the way
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, lifes bouquet
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, along the way
When the summer ends and the storms of life are over
When the winter comes and the petals fall away
They may write it on my stone, he was just a roller
But he stopped to pick some flowers along the way
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, lifes bouquet
Flowers, picked some flowers, along the way
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Spring In Victoria
The bottlebrushes laden with crimson flowers
And there is warmth in the October breeze
And with her Spring has brought her blooms and greenery
And birds are singing on the sunlit trees.
Spring in Victoria my favourite time of year
The birds build their nests and raise their families
The weather not too cool or not too warm
A high today of 17 degrees.
The distinct call sounds of the magpie lark
And the Indian mynah sings his scratchy song
Some birds are easy to identify
And by their voices you never get them wrong.
Spring in Victoria is a time of bloom
And sun shines brightly after the brief showers
The fruit trees cloaked in blossoms of pale pink
And gardens look resplendent in their flowers.
My favourite season is always the spring
And spring in Victoria is now in her prime
The wild birds sing and gardens are in bloom
But Nature's beauty fades with the passage of time.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Colourful Rose Flower!
Colourful rose flowers give a beautiful idea of pleasure;
Lips of rose petals kiss everyone’s heart with pleasure!
Red rose transports one to the world of love and beauty;
Power of rose among all flowers is undisputed forever!
Red rose is for love, beauty, courage and respect, know!
Yellow rose is for joy, friendship, delight and new bonds!
White rose stands for purity, innocence and humility ever;
Pink rose is gifted for appreciation and thanks for deeds.
Orange rose is for desire, enthusiasm and passion ever!
Lavender rose is linked to love at first sight for all lovers!
Blue rose is for healing, dreams and mystery to be realised
And is recently genetically engineered and produced nice!
Who does not love rose flowers of many colours we see now?
Even rose petals are not left from extracting oil to make perfume!
poem by Ramesh T A
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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O Lady, Leave Thy Silken Thread
O Lady, leave thy silken thread
And flowery tapestrie:
There's living roses on the bush,
And blossoms on the tree;
Stoop where thou wilt, thy careless hand
Some random bud will meet;
Thou canst not tread, but thou wilt find
The daisy at thy feet.
'Tis like the birthday of the world,
When earth was born in bloom;
The light is made of many dyes,
The air is all perfume;
There's crimson buds, and white and blue—
The very rainbow showers
Have turn'd to blossoms where they fell,
And sown the earth with flowers.
There's fairy tulips in the east,
The garden of the sun;
The very streams reflect the hues,
And blossom as they run:
While Morn opes like a crimson rose,
Still wet with pearly showers;
Then, lady, leave the silken thread
Thou twinest into flowers!
poem by Thomas Hood
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Happy Dog
I’m a happy dog at the beach
If I had the power of speech
I would tell you all
To throw my ball
I’m a happy dog at the beach
I’m a happy dog at the beach
There are no new tricks you can teach
I’m bouncy and glad
And my tail wags like mad
I’m a happy dog at the beach
I’m a happy dog at the beach
My joy is always in reach
Whatever the talk
It’s the best place to walk
I’m a happy dog at the beach
I’m a happy dog at the beach
As I hear the seagulls screech
I chase and I bark
Long into the dark
I’m a happy dog at the beach
I’m a happy dog at the beach
And I don’t want to start to preach
But if you ask me
The best thing to see
Is a happy dog at the beach
poem by Flying Lemming
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Her Eye Colors
spring
lush foliage
buds of flowers
tiny leaves
sprouting from the
twigs
in Hongkong
where there is no
space for gardens
she draws spring
in the colors
of her eyes
shades of green
and pink and
red and
blue for the flowers
the clouds
the horizon
the sun
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Heaven as spectrum
Bold March sunlight bounces
off the yellow-grey-brown London claybricks
of the house across the gardens;
the next-door neighbour’s cut the dead ivy
and the reflected light hits the artificial flowers
and their strong delicate colours, glowing
in their various cobalt vases; blooming joyful
where living flowers find that corner sad;
the flowers as if washed today with brighter water-colours;
as if grace itself, wishing to send a message
to this room today, had chosen the spectrum
of the flowers’ purples, yellows, blues and reds
as its medium and message; and its smile;
today, the spectrum is for me
metaphor enough – its rainbow limits
playing now-you-see-me… with the retina,
hinting at the formless always beckoning
there, beyond the form..
metaphor enough
for heaven’s mind itself; and heaven’s smile.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Blue Rose!
Genetically modified flower blue rose is unique!
Rose colour gives hope of future by its very look;
Red rose is unique among flowers as it is queen
In the flower world nobody can deny having it!
Yellow rose shines bright in the long green garden
Full of many trees and other flower plants broad!
Pink rose flowers are many everywhere as border
Mainly in the botanical garden of hill stations here!
Blue rose, a new addition in the flower kingdom
Among lavender, blue bells and rare kurinjis of
Light blue, violet and ink blue colours everywhere
Stands majestic and having healing touch to all!
Rose is rose by whatever name it is called and also
Rose is rose by whatever colour it is produced ever!
poem by Ramesh T A
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Sweet Violets
They are coming up in my gardens
Why, just like wild flowers they grow
A delicious early spring splash of color
That’s why I really love them so
They are pale as a spring violet can be
A lavender color they are
Tiny with a fragrance so special
The best early flower by far
They always infuse with my landscape
I love the perfect way that they blend
With other flowers like blue Forget-me-not’s
And when finished tiny seeds they send
I do so enjoy my flowers in spring
I even pick them for a wonderful bouquet
I wish you could visit my gardens as well
I’d serve you sweet tea without any delay!
poem by Marilyn Lott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Last Lovely Rose Of The Fall
Her pink petals lay on the short grass beside the red brick garden wall
By the thorny mother that bore her the last lovely rose of the Fall
White butterflies flit in the garden in the warm sunshine of mid day
And the shrike thrush he pipes on a low branch in his cloak of light brown to gray,
The rose tree has lost her last and her finest daughter next year new roses she will bear
And the rose tree in her flowers does look lovely than her there is none quite so fair
And her flowers they must return to Nature and on Nature's bosom decay
And the rose tree herself sooner or later must return to Nature one day,
The dark willy wagtail he sits on the brick wall his long black tail he wags to and fro
For him 'tis a very good Season on butterlies fat he does grow
Each life form serves a purpose in Nature for one to live one has to die
And what comes from Nature goes back to Nature and the same goes for you and for i
The pink rose petals lay on the grass by their mother on this warm March day in the Fall
And of all of the flowers in the garden in bloom she was the fairest of all.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Rose Tree Of Winter
In the cold winds of Winter she stands thorny and bare
In Summer large beautiful red flowers she did wear
The Rose tree of Winter not a pretty sight
At a time of year with litle warmth in the sunlight,
When the birds in the sunlit gardens will nest and sing
She will wear her new leaves and rosebuds of the Spring
As a tree the rose tree does not grow very tall
Compared to most trees she does seem very small
But in her full bloom none as lovely as she
In her cloak of flowers she's a beautiful tree
But in Winter she stands there by the garden wall
Of the garden trees the most forlorn one of all
And though it may still be a few months from the Spring
The white backed magpie on the blackwood tree sing
But without her leaves and flowers prickly looking and bare
The rose tree looks drab in the cool morning air.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sunshine Hue
Sunshine hue, sunshine grew
Shines its rays on me and you
Sunshine light sunshine bright
Not a dark cloud close in sight
Sunshine thrive sunshine grow
Sweet healing rays on all your tribe
Sunshine healing, sunshine show
The pure essence of our being
Sunshine parade, sunshine displayed
In its fractionised barricade
Sunshine tranced, sunshine danced
Gave our souls such sweet romance
Sunshine dove, sunshine above
Thanks for your sweet rays of love
So sun kissed and pure sun bliss
Sunshine blocks out all the mist
So sunshine mellow sunshine yellow
You’ve made me a lucky fellow
There is a garden where very few
can roam, not very far from home
Come closer, I am alone, just now
Go past cobwebs glistening like silver
Come closer, you're the rose
I want the most to go through
My garden of ice and snow
Blooming with rich fragrant roses
Velvety black, blue and red
Each with perfume of love
As I sleep below the roses
Loneliness has reached my skin
I need the love that ebbs and flows
Just a sip from your succulent nectar
Shall free me from this small pain
Dig deep beneath the thorny layers
And free me from your heart
That we can share the midnight hours
and know how I hunger and thirst
Just a shield me, protect me
And this shall will give me power
To become a loved once again
Without it I will fade away
I'd rather have roses on my table
Than diamonds on my neck
Where flowers bloom so does hope
Each flower is a soul opening out to nature
Perfumes are the feelings of flowers
The world is one giant rose
Smell it and pass it onto your friends
When bright flowers bloom
Parchment crumbles, my words fade
The pen has dropped...
Flowers are love's truest language
I will touch a hundred flowers
And never pick one, none
They are not long, the days of wine and roses
Out of a misty dream our path emerges
For a while, then closes within a dream
There came a time when the risk
To remain tight in the bud
Was more painful than the risk it took
Blossoming flowers are the sweetest things
Ever made and forgot to put a soul into
It is at the edge of a petal that love waits
Pure as any one of you
Who can estimate the elevating and refining
Influences and moral value of flowers
With all their graceful forms
Bewitching shades and combinations
Colours and exquisitely varied perfumes
These silent influences are unconsciously felt
Even by those who do not appreciate them
And thus with better and still better flowers
Will the earth be transformed, man's thought
Refined, and turned from the base destructive
Forces into nobler, more simpler production
One which will lift us to high planes of action
Toward the happy day when the angels
Of all this beautiful work is more acknowledged
Loved with many richer grains
Better fruit and fairer flowers from this earth
For myself I hold no preferences among flowers
So long as they are wild, free, spontaneous.
Observe this dew drenched rose garden
A rose today, tomorrow and yesterday
It was the dust, the sunshine, and the rains
Which I first saw, or desired to see, the flower
In the cherry blossom's shade
There's no such thing as a stranger
The thoughts grow as freely as the flowers
The dreams are as beautiful in friendship
Fragrant garden, there are flowers of every hue
Each with its own fair beauty and its gift of joy
None can have a healthy love for flowers
Unless he loves the wild ones freely
White blossoms slowly float down
Dancers in the wind as everything has been
But the spring breeze
A flowerless room is a soulless room
To my way of thinking
But even on solitary little vase
Home of a living flower may redeem it
Thought of before, in the hope
Reaching the moon, men fail to see
The flowers that blossom at their feet
Who would have thought it possible
That a tiny little flower could preoccupy
A persons mind completely
There simply wasn't room for any other thought
Let me show you the sweet smell
A delicate whisper behind the vision
Gardens are drunk from roses
And it is my faith, that every flower
Enjoys the air it breathes
Flowers leave their fragrance
In the hand that bestows them
We gathered the wild flowers
There seemed one pure delight
Through the field we roamed
There seemed one pure delight
Silently a flower blooms
In silence it falls away
Yet here now, at this moment, at this place
The world of the flower
The whole of you is blooming
This is the talk of the flower
The truth of the blossom
The glory of eternal life
Is fully shining here
But the spring breeze
A flowerless room is a soulless room, to my way of thinking;
but even on solitary little vase of a living flower may redeem it.
There grows the flower of Peace
The Rose that cannot wither
Do not the petals flutter down
Just like this?
Footfalls echo in the memory
Down the passage which we did not take, towards the door we never opened and into the rose garden with all the flowers of all the tomorrows are in the seeds of today, every flower about a house certifies to the refinement of somebody, every vine climbing and blossoming tells of love and joy and stories yet to come…
poem by Char Pattrick
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Kentish Garden
THERE is a grey-walled garden, far away
From noise and smoke of cities, where the hours
Pass with soft wings among the happy flowers,
And lovely leisure blossoms every day.
There, tall and white, the sceptral lily blows;
There grow the pansy, pink, and columbine,
Brave hollyhocks, and star-white jessamine,
And the red glory of the royal rose.
There greeny glow-worms gem the dusky lawn,
The lime-trees breathe their fragrance to the night,
Pink roses sleep, and dream that they are white,
Until they wake to colour with the dawn.
There, in the splendour of the sultry noon,
The sunshine sleeps upon the garden bed
Where the white poppy droops a drowsy head
And dreams of kisses from the white full moon.
And there, some days, all wild with wind and rain,
The tossed trees show the white side of their leaves,
While the great drops drip from the ivied eaves,
And birds are still--till the sun shines again.
And there, all days, my heart goes wandering,
Because there, first, my heart began to know
The glories of the summer and the snow,
The loveliness of harvest and of spring.
There may be fairer gardens; but I know
There is no other garden half so dear;
Because 'tis there, this many, many a year,
The sacred, sweet, white flowers of memory grow!
poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Beautiful Camellias
The camellias bloom in Winter when the skies are cold and gray
When the sun shines at it's weakest and the Spring seems far away
Each tree an individual by the shade of flowers they bear
An avenue of camellias of one shade of flowers more often than not rare.
In shades of pink and creams and reds the colours one might name
Each is an individual for no two look the same
The beautiful camellias resplendent in their flowers
They bloom in lawn and garden on Winter's coldest hours.
In late fall in Victoria in the Southern Hemisphere
The flower buds on camellia tell Winter days are near
And before the wattles come to bloom towards the end of July
The flowers on the camellia tree lose their petals and die.
The beautiful camellias bloom in the cold winter showers
And long before the southern spring they will have lost their flowers
And on June's coldest and wettest day great beauty I can see
A mass of pink flowers blooming on the green camellia tree.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In South Gippsland In September
On the fruit trees in the gardens the pinkish blossoms are in bloom
And by the roadside fences yellow flowers are on the broom
And the flute like notes of the magpie have such a melodious ring
In South Gippsland in september in the infancy of Spring.
The weather not too cool or warm it's a near to perfect day
And the nesting gulls are calling on the cliffs above the bay
And the bubbling song of the butcherbird is a joyful thing to hear
In South Gippsland in September it's a pleasant time of year.
The lark above the coastal scrub is carolling as he fly
And upwards he's ascending a small speck in the sky
And hidden in a tuft of grass her eggs warm beneath her breast
In south Gippsland in September his mate sits in her nest.
The pleasant sounds float to me in the freshening coastal breeze
Of crimson rosellas chirping on gum and wattle trees
And the hoarse cacklings of the wattlebirds are familiar sounds to me
In South Gippsland in September where the land meets the sea
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Secret Garden (Fantasy)
Hydranga entertains a lady bug-
Her guest for a summer afternoon-
Butterflies float in purple passion-
And the road to: 'Awe' 'tis arriving soon;
Dragonflies are for the night light...
And violet fairy wings are close but yet far away-
Under and umbrella of magic Lilac tree limbs-
Morning flight 'tis calling- this day;
There is immersion in silver tipped pearl-escent water-
In between your world and mine...
What dreams may arive in our inner visions-
The Mighty Magical morning- will find;
Perhaps a water colour of Autumn-Gold Mums for the asking?
Given bright eyes with saged wisdom- to really see...
In the shadow of the half broken moon- now wandering...
With infinity-i wrestle with the thoughts- inside of me;
Down the Enchanted Wooded Garden- i travel...
Looking for the light at the end of this gardened earth-
In the stark white valley of a single purple rose, i breathe-
Purple rain arrives at: The Secret Gardens official birth;
Purple tinted flowers are simply everywhere...
Lilac, Lavender, Violet and more-
Baby's Breath blankets them- in sweet shelter-
From the crystal dew-
Just outside the Gardens gated door;
A purple Dahlia comes calling-
In a Violet and deep Lavender haze...
Ah, but tomorrow 'tis yet another day-
And the Garden shall be under the influence of another moon phase;
The Paisley tree may then decide to bloom-
Or the Iris may catch your bright eye...
Whatever attracts your attention in this Sanctuary...
Has reached out to you- with her Intentioned Lavender Sigh;
***************************************** ***********************************
October,20 09
poem by Theodora Onken
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Our Hero
"Flowers, only flowers -- bring me dainty posies,
Blossoms for forgetfulness," that was all he said;
So we sacked our gardens, violets and roses,
Lilies white and bluebells laid we on his bed.
Soft his pale hands touched them, tenderly caressing;
Soft into his tired eyes came a little light;
Such a wistful love-look, gentle as a blessing;
There amid the flowers waited he the night.
"I would have you raise me; I can see the West then:
I would see the sun set once before I go."
So he lay a-gazing, seemed to be at rest then,
Quiet as a spirit in the golden glow.
So he lay a-watching rosy castles crumbling,
Moats of blinding amber, bastions of flame,
Rugged rifts of opal, crimson turrets tumbling;
So he lay a-dreaming till the shadows came.
"Open wide the window; there's a lark a-singing;
There's a glad lark singing in the evening sky.
How it's wild with rapture, radiantly winging:
Oh it's good to hear that when one has to die.
I am horror-haunted from the hell they found me;
I am battle-broken, all I want is rest.
Ah! It's good to die so, blossoms all around me,
And a kind lark singing in the golden West.
"Flowers, song and sunshine, just one thing is wanting,
Just the happy laughter of a little child."
So we brought our dearest, Doris all-enchanting;
Tenderly he kissed her; radiant he smiled.
"In the golden peace-time you will tell the story
How for you and yours, sweet, bitter deaths were ours. . . .
God bless little children!" So he passed to glory,
So we left him sleeping, still amid the flow'rs.
poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Spring
Now the bright crocus flames, and now
The slim narcissus takes the rain,
And, straying o'er the mountain's brow,
The daffodilies bud again.
The thousand blossoms wax and wane
On wold, and heath, and fragrant bough,
But fairer than the flowers art thou,
Than any growth of hill or plain.
Ye gardens, cast your leafy crown,
That my Love's feet may tread it down,
Like lilies on the lilies set:
My Love, whose lips are softer far
Than drowsy poppy petals are,
And sweeter than the violet!
poem by Andrew Lang
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Thanks for the flowers and roses
Thank you for the flowers and roses
The message reverberates
For the flowers and roses you sent
Everyone tells story
of happy moments we spent
as we walked down by the beach
Holding hand in hand together
Exchanging sweet kisses and affection
Getting splashed by the little waves
as they crash and hit the shore
Your red roses you sent
they are special remembrance to keep
For your warms hugs
for the lasting joy
When you held me tight
on the beach sands
Looking into my eyes
dreaming and gazing to the sky
poem by Sherif Monem
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pink Flowers.
Do not text me or think otherwise
I am just picking flowers from my garden.
Last evening I picked a red rose but
Wow! It proved to be too red for my date
Today I visited the same garden
The only flower I found was a white rose.
Where is my favourite pink rose?
This morning I cycled to the market
Sure, to buy my date a pink rose
But the only roses there were yellow and purple.
Tried to enquire where I could get one
But no one knows where to find.
Went to my flower vendor but nowhere to find
Where will I get my pink rose for my date?
Tomorrow, I'll travel far and wide
Only to get this precious pink flower
And if I succeed, my date will be happy
And my heart will find a solace rest
Amidst the residue of love petals
Just with the pink flower petals.
Where will I get my Pink rose flower?
(Dedicated for my pink flower date)
poem by Aron Lelei
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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