Lucky Bride
White lace
Silver jewelry
Diamond tiarra
And a smile that melts all hearts
Her face covered in a veil
Her dress flowing like a cloud
A lovely day
A happy day
A day of love
It spreads to all
Like the crimson stain
That seeps through
That snowy white lace
Silver rusted
Tiarra smashed
Smile gone
Crimson everywhere
Spilling, flowing, wrapping
Around everything
In its path
This is the day
Such a joyous day
As Fallen Angels
Greet the lucky bride
And welcome her
To their world
Which is now hers
poem by Janelle Morehart
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Roses On White Lace
I saw you in your wedding gown
The prettiest dress
I came into the room that night
And made such a mess
In my own way, I lovingly kiss the bride
With your ring in your hand
Your eyes and your mouth open wide
In my eyes
Blood drops look like roses on white lace
They won't wash away
In my mind they're roses on white lace
Straight from the heart
So dead upon the bed
You hurt me in the deepest way
I'm crippled inside
I took your evil skin away
It's all cut and dried
I saw you tonight and carefully took your hand
With some smears on my cheeks
I knew that you would understand
In my eyes
Blood drops look like roses on white lace
They won't wash away
In my mind they're roses on white lace
Straight from the heart
So dead upon the bed, still searching for your head
They're never gonna find your face
It's hidden away
I found a very special place where you used to play
In my own way, I lovingly kiss the bride
With your ring in your hand
Your eyes and your mouth open wide
In my eyes
Blood drops look like roses on white lace
They won't wash away
In my mind they're roses on white lace
Straight from the heart
Blood drops look like roses on white lace
Crimson and sweet, stained on the sheet
Roses on white lace, pretty in red, dripping and wet
Roses on white lace, spilled on the walls, dark in the hall
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Birch
The white birch is covered
All with snow veil,
As with silver, rather,
Outside my dwell.
On the fluffy boughs,
With the snow lace
There appeared flowers
On the white hoar dress.
And the birch is staying
In the quiet dream,
As the gold, the snowflakes
Are sparkling in the peace.
And the dawn, so lazily
Going around,
Sprinkles the new silver
On the lacy boughs.
poem by Sergei Yesenin, translated by Lyudmila Purgina
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sweetie, Start the Day with a Smile
Sweetie, start the day with a smile
Your smile always melts my heart
So I am here imagining that you are smiling
It brings out the best face for you
Smile, you are so lovely smiling Sweetie
I hope you slept and have woken up well
I know you are as lovely as ever
I pray that you have a lovely song in your heart
I hope you are happy this morning
All these come out when you are smiling Sweetie
Because your face is the mirror of your heart
Smile is the language of joy and love
Smile is a way to a successful day
Smile every moment that's worth living
Your smile wins my heart Sweetie
So keep a smile on your face today!
I keep smiling by imagining your smile
Your smile is the diamond on Sweetie's face
poem by Nyota Yasulwe
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Crimson Insane
Crimson Love,
who can this be,
Not I,
not you,
nor anybody,
look to crimson so enviously,
smile and grin,
look what you could have been,
Look at crimson now
what do you see?
Falling apart,
a crimson mind shackled yet free,
I'm losing it..... realities touch,
I'm going insane, this life is to much,
Forget all this... but memories remain,
I laugh at the humor, that is crimson insane.
poem by Crimson Love
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Summer Of The Unlocked Door
It is raised up from the dust this earth of the silver maker,
her for me it was higher than the arm could and yet
infused as the rose I scented, starry nights stretch out.
O dresses flowing silver, towards me, therein you reach
and it faces to each of us.
There is the petaled flower of which,
and you open freely as the sun without obstacle.
May the white leaf, the flower did not run off nor divide the silver
from that kind of rare silver; O it is white, it does become you,
your cluster, thickly with the veined branch,
summer of the unlocked door
and it has the fruit which it matures, do.
poem by Is It Poetry
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Smile little man
Smile little man, smile!
Show me some love
Radiate some care
Lighten up the atmosphere
Scare us not with a retarded fearful face
A smile goes a lenghty way at a steady pace
Everytime I see you, I see your frown
Your thoughts are glaring at me as if I am a vicious enemy
Demanding of you to surrender to my battalion army
Why not change your facial expressions for once
If you deem yourself not worty of silver, at least aim for bronze
Common smile little man
Show me some white teeth
Give me some love
Acknowledge I'm here
Why hath thou so miserable, day by day
A smile will make a difference to your face
Your smile will make you attractive in every place
A smile will make us listen sympathetically to your case
Drive not away the innocent ones
Allow not your frown to spoil our fun
Smile little man, smile
Smile, once, then smile twice
Smile for the ladies, smile for you
Smile for me, smile for everyone
Smile for the old ladies crossing the street
Smile little man, smile
Common give some real love for once
If you deem yourself not worty of silver, at least aim for bronze
Copyright 2005 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Bear a Sweet Smile
Have a wonderful style
Whenever you go for awhile
Have a sweet smile
On your lovely face
Take it as an advice
From your friend ‘Sahil'
Living a happy life
A task uphill
We have to climb
Your sweet smile
Can turn a foe into friend
Enmity will end
Friendship will start
Be wise and smart
Keep rolling the ball of love
Like a lovely dove
With a sweet smile
You can greet all
And greet with smile without fall
Young and old
People of the world
With this very smile
In a short while
You can change a man's life
Nullify strife
Cover journey of mile
With your sweet smile
poem by Shashikant Nishant Sharma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lavender Lace
Lavender lace, tears on my face
Our love ? ? ? to celebrate our first date
But Im alone in lavender lace
Lavender lace, theres not a trace
Of that guy that I love so well
Now he wont see me in lavender lace
Why oh why didnt my baby show?
Why oh why, didnt he love me, no
I dont know if Ive ever been so lonely
Lonely in lavender lace
Oh, lavender lace seems out of place
Its 2am, well whats with him, making me cry?
Giving me blues in lavender lace
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Romany Girl
Romany girl on the silver sand
What would you have me yearning,
To take you into my loving arms
While the world lay waste, and burning
To touch the sheen of your auburn hair
While the stars look on in wonder,
And watch the hem of your gypsy dress
That tears my heart asunder.
Romany girl, is your lovely name
The Jean of a witch returning,
Or just the touch of a love-lost fool
Who’s seeking your brown eyes burning,
The spell of lace at your pretty face
Or caught at your throat a-bunching,
Or sweetness smile of your guiltless guile
Bewitching the Squire, a-lunching.
Romany girl, who struts and sways
To dance at the morning graces,
Setting the sand in either hand
To laugh at the wondering faces,
Images burn the fevered brain
Of a man who’s never been tipsy,
Dance on the silver sand again
And look for your love-lost gypsy.
18 September 1973
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Messenger Of Love...
Smile, it will never cost a dime
Then why do I have to tell you every time
Smile is a magic, brings hearts together
With package of love which stays forever
Smile is a medicine, wounds it heal
Anger and hatred no more in the deal
To see someone smile, how happy it feels
Smile imprints our hearts with its love zeal
Smile spreads love- it’s a treasure
Smile- give and take without measure
It feels good to bring out a smile
Messenger of love, that’s your smile.
poem by Jibin Joseph
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Arborea Blooms
Amid bloomed white arboreas,
the twirping cardinal elates,
the foliage play while altheas,
adorn his song of cloudless fair,
the silver stream flowing relates,
upon same route and obligates
abyss to quaff tweedled ideas,
while blooms in light will oscillate.
The forest -look- embraces all,
white flow'rs that roil in ether's haze,
the randomness of light's befall,
air's blooms adorn this lavish ball,
clothe foliage's infinitely grace,
nuptial embroidery, white lace,
while streams flow to abyss' odd call
blooms celebrate air's nymphal phase.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Mother's Hair Has Turned To Silver
Mother's hair has turned to silver
Her skin is all wrinkled and cold
But i'd never trade my mother
For the world and all its gold. Yes her hair has turned to silver
Her face is all covered with lines
But there'll never be another
Like this gray haired mother of mine. I think of all the hardships
I have caused her to bare
Then I can see the reasons
For the silver in her hair. Mother's hair has turned to silver
And her hard working days are done
But there's still a smile on her face
And a love for everyone.
poem by Kenneth Rickard
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Finery
IN an elegant frock, trimm'd with beautiful lace,
And hair nicely curl'd, hanging over her face,
Young Fanny went out to the house of a friend,
With a large little party the evening to spend.
'Ah! how they will all be delighted, I guess,
And stare with surprise at my handsome new dress!'
Thus said the vain girl, and her little heart beat,
Impatient the happy young party to meet.
But, alas! they were all too intent on their play
To observe the fine clothes of this lady so gay,
And thus all her trouble quite lost its design;–
For they saw she was proud, but forgot she was fine.
'Twas Lucy, though only in simple white clad,
(Nor trimmings, nor laces, nor jewels, she had,)
Whose cheerful good-nature delighted them more
Than Fanny and all the fine garments she wore.
'Tis better to have a sweet smile on one's face,
Than to wear a fine frock with an elegant lace,
For the good-natured girl is loved best in the main,
If her dress is but decent, though ever so plain.
poem by Ann Taylor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Venus in the Garden
'Twas at early morning,
The dawn was blushing in her purple bed,
When in a sweet, embowered garden
She, the fairest of the goddesses,
The lovely Venus,
Roamed amongst the roses white and red.
She sought for flowers
To make a garland
For her golden head.
Snow-white roses, blood-red roses,
In that sweet garden close,
Offered incense to the goddess:
Both the white and the crimson rose.
White roses, red roses, blossoming:
But the fair Venus knew
The crimson roses had gained their hue
From the hearts that for love had bled;
And the goddess made a garland
Gathered from the roses red.
poem by James Weldon Johnson
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Finery
In an elegant frock, trimm'd with beautiful lace,
And hair nicely curl'd, hanging over her face,
Young Fanny went out to the house of a friend,
With a large little party the evening to spend.
"Ah! how they will all be delighted, I guess,
And stare with surprise at my handsome new dress!"
Thus said the vain girl, and her little heart beat,
Impatient the happy young party to meet.
But, alas! they were all too intent on their play
To observe the fine clothes of this lady so gay,
And thus all her trouble quite lost its design;
For they saw she was proud, but forgot she was fine.
'Twas Lucy, though only in simple white clad,
(Nor trimmings, nor laces, nor jewels, she had,)
Whose cheerful good-nature delighted them more
Than Fanny and all the fine garments she wore.
'Tis better to have a sweet smile on one's face,
Than to wear a fine frock with an elegant lace,
For the good-natured girl is loved best in the main,
If her dress is but decent, though ever so plain.
poem by Jane Taylor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Velvet Shoes
Let us walk in the white snow
In a soundless space;
With footsteps quiet snd slow,
At a tranquil pace,
Under veils of white lace.
I shall go shod in silk,
And you in wool,
White as white cow's milk,
More beautiful
Than the breast of a gull.
We shall walk through the still town
In a windless peace;
We shall step upon white down,
Upon silver fleece,
Upon softer than these.
We shall walk in velvet shoes:
Wherever we go
Silence will fall like dews
On white silence below.
We shall walk in the snow.
poem by Elinor Morton Wylie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Dada Da-da da. (Call Everything By Its Proper Name)
So you call 'the rain' in pain.
In pain you call 'the rain'
the rain, the rain, the rain
that molten lava rain,
that beats the windowpane,
that is the blade tht cuts your face.
the rain that runs down swollen face,
water like lace,
water like lace on your face,
so the lace, lace, lace
traces your face, face, face
rain, pane, train
and everything' in pain.
The rain is the pain,
that cuts your face with a blade,
so your blood it runs like lace,
blood lace, bloodied lace,
on your face
your face, your face.
poem by Ursula De La Mer
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Dressing the Doll
THIS is the way we dress the Doll:—
You may make her a shepherdess, the Doll,
If you give her a crook with a pastoral hook,
But this is the way we dress the Doll.
Chorus
Bless the Doll, you may press the Doll,
But do not crumple and mess the Doll!
This is the way we dress the Doll.
First, you observe, her little chemise,
As white as milk, with ruches of silk;
And the little drawers that cover her knees,
As she sits or stands, with golden bands,
And lace in beautiful filagrees.
Chorus
Now these are the bodies: she has two,
One of pink, with rouches of blue,
And sweet white lace; be careful, do!
And one of green, with buttons of sheen,
Buttons and bands of gold, I mean,
With lace on the border in lovely order,
The most expensive we can afford her!
Chorus
Then, with black at the border, jacket
And this—and this—she will not lack it;
Skirts? Why, there are skirts, of course,
And shoes and stockings we shall enforce,
With a proper bodice, in the proper place,
(Stays that lace have had their days
And made their martyrs); likewise garters,
All entire. But our desire
Is to show you her night attire,
At least a part of it. Pray admire
This sweet white thing that she goes to bed in!
It ’s not the one that ’s made for her wedding:
That is special, a new design,
Made with a charm and a countersign,
Three times three and nine times nine:
These are only her usual clothes.
Look, there ’s a wardrobe! gracious knows
It ’s pretty enough, as far as it goes!
So you see the way we dress the Doll:
You might make her a shepherdess, the Doll,
If you gave her a crook with pastoral hook,
With sheep, and a shed, and a shallow brook,
And all that, out of the poetry-book.
Chorus
Bless the Doll, you may press the Doll,
But do not crumple and mess the Doll!
This is the way we dress the Doll;
If you had not seen, could you guess the Doll?
poem by William Brighty Rands
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Mount Kunchenjunga
Till its bright, till ones' sight,
It’s all white, it’s all white.
Silver flakes have covered,
Or billion tonnes milk is poured;
From here, clouds look down,
It is my Countrys' Crown.
Cloth of snow is spread
and Snowy is the run,
Rocks & plants have to wait,
Months, to see the sun;
Snowy mountain wearing
snowy gown,
It is my countrys' crown.
The horizon turns golden
In the morning Sun rays,
Springs fall shouting
Give me the way;
A place, like Angels' town,
It is my countrys' crown.
The God’s unique architect,
Beyond ones' belief;
Creatures stepping here,
Surely get relief;
A Wonder place, nature has grown;
It is my countrys' crown.
(c) S.D. Tiwari
email [email protected]
poem by S.D. Tiwari
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Light Of Pure Life
Went to a shop to look at crystal lamps when my
eyes were caught by crystal lace fabrics perfect
for creating the beautiful gown I always dream
of, formed when I walk in the sea splashing
with my feet till sprays of crystal drops
cover me in silver white layers
I wondered how to make a dress from liquid crystal
to shimmer and shine wherever I went, now having
found the perfect crystal lace my dream is fulfilled –
though my book on Secret Tools for Six-Sensory
Living recommends seeking psychic healing
through the power of crystals
as the only dream worth cherishing; but a crystal
dress seems more attractive to me than people
who try to sell the psychic power of crystals -
only charlatans use these devices - I love
New Age ideas but without evidence of
their success, crystals remain
enchanting symbols representing the beauty,
clarity and light of pure life…
poem by Margaret Alice Second
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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