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The Garden

I have invented fine garden of grief,
But there true flowers blossomed...
From tears has raged pure azure lake,
Precisely such colour, as your eyes like

Warned to me, about the severe days
Scared the white butterflies of valley...
For the snowflakes is very lovely
But feelings him- left to heavens...

I have invented fine garden of grief.

poem by Tsira Gogeshvili
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A grief ago

'There is no grief
which time does not lessen
or soften' -
so said Cicero, a man so often right;
a Stoic, those for whom
all life presents a lesson
to be learned from,
and then, to move on from..

But I wonder about all this:
is grief ever lessened or softened?
Is it not, perhaps, overlaid
in our so various ways?

For some, grief framed and falsified
to ease that grief;

For some, like hyacinths and crocus bulbs,
left in a dark cupboard in the autumn of our grief
to respond to time, and
become at last
themselves?

gently, gently, the covers pulled
over the loving bed,
the true, the pure, the lovely painful grief,
the memory deep cherished,
gently, gently, folded
into the cupboards of the heart

there to be known, without the door disturbed
until the time - 'a grief ago' as Dylan wrote -
the cupboard opened only for love's sake
without grief...:
those carefully folded memories
brought out and loved
and lived a while...

not grief, not grief...but
the pure memory of grief

and behold,
life.

poem by Michael Shepherd
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The progress

Cooking invented, I have lost my teeth.
Tools invented, I have lost my hands
Carts invented, I have lost my legs
Electricity invented, I have lost my sight.
Calculator invented, I have lost counting.
Computer invented, I have lost faculty
Internet come, I lost neigbours.
Is mankind on march to stability?
08.05.2007

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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My Garden

My garden is a special place
Where morning blows its breeze
And sun dries the morning mists.
Where different plants and shrubs
Soothe the sight with flowers and buds.

My garden is a special place
Where busy bees fly and kiss
The beauty of flowers their nectar sipped
Where butterflies fly high and low
Attracting passers on the go.

My garden is a special place
Where I laid my worries and grief
Where I spend hours of peace
Where I hum with total bliss
Where I go and my stress ceased.

poem by Rose de Ramar
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Stepping Out Queen Part 2

It seems like it must have been something that I said
Something that somebody must have done
This is a song
Its got a whole lot of soul
When I seen you by the way before
In new york city
I think it was on eighth street, right?
Or was it in san francisco, whatever
Always put the first one first
And the second one, second
Come in the garden and look at the flowers
Thats what you were saying, right?
Come in my garden and look at the flowers
We can just sit and talk for hours and hours
Come in my garden, come in my garden
Come in my garden
Come in my, come in my, come in my garden
Come in my, come in my, come in my garden
Come in my garden, come in my garden
Look at the flowers, we can just sit and talk
And feel
As the sun come over the valley
As the sun come over the valley
I believe
I like the way
I like your face from the left side
As you go
As you go stepping out queen
Stepping out queen
Its just a windfall away, its just a windfall away
Its a windfall away
As you, as you, as you, as you go, as you go
Stepping out queen
Let me see you step out
Come on!
As you go steppin out queen
You can promenade
You can promenade
When you step
With a little bit of hip action
You go steppin out queen
Just a little bit of hip for the trip
As you go
Steppin out queen
I said give me a little bit of shoulder slide
Come on
Da, dada, do dodo, do dodo, do dodo, do doooo
Come on baby I just wanna reach out
I wanna reach out and touch you
I dont wanna talk
Do do do do do do do do do do do do do..

song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Childhood Garden

my childhood garden

my childhood garden
lush and green
it was so happy it made me scream
my joy and hopes
and all my mopes
my childhood garden

my childhood garden
with the ups and downs
when i jumped i could not touch the ground
with my purle ponys
it made it homey
my childhood garden

my childhood garden
flying high
with the little lies
the grass fine
up in the sky my kite
my childhood garden

my childhood garden
now in the past
i now know that it can never last
now as i get taller
it was differnt when i was smaller
my childhood garden

poem by Danielle Eager
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Rose Garden

I watched you in your
garden,
Roses growing every-
where.
Flowers were so lovely,
Perfume filled the air.

Touching them so
gently,
Creating a bouquet,
Tieing yellow
ribbons,
So they would'nt blow
away.

As I left the garden,
On that summer day
I turned and looked
once more,
Then slowly walked
away.

I admire your lovely
garden,
So happy I would be,
If I were the rosebud,
You touched so
tenderly.

poem by Heather Burns
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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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While I Dig In The Garden

While I dig in the garden I think about you
when I hold flowers on their stems,
sometimes I walk into your paintings,
while I am wondering how you fit into my life
and still it is as if something of you clings to me.

There’s a white jersey belonging to you in my cupboard
that reminds me and like your eyes the sky is blue
and in due time the works is getting more difficult
while I dig in the garden.

I draw on my shirt’s sleeve,
am wondering if you still like me,
when feelings are touching my heart,
I see the first raindrops splashing down,
how drops glitter like dew,
while I dig in the garden.

poem by Gert Strydom
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Grief Is Never Having To Say I Grieve

Your grief has been too heavy

I don’t know how much grief buries you down

Please let me weep with you

Please let me weep with you

Like the others, I adore you for keeping up with life

I could imagine how you cry in your thoughts

How like blade, grief cuts your heart, your throat,

the top of your skull - slowly

Like wars in history, there are no exits

and there are no choices

If you were there, you had to face those rattling guns

Plead, please plead

Remember “Our Lady of Sorrows'

Mary carried part of the grief Jesus has

been carrying to save us, during the crucifixion

Mary had no one with her

She was helpless, yet in those moments

God’s strength kept her unmovable and brave

How long does grief stay?

People are not things

How long does grief stay?

If you lost something, you can always build it again

How long does grief stay?

If you lost someone, and someone, and someone

again, in any way – they are part of you

For as long as you live, grief changes into

remembering happy days with each other

Grief becomes faithfulness

Grief changes unto faith

Those drops of blood, while Jesus prayed in the garden

Is grief

Grief is never having to say “I grieve, ”

but “I love, ”

This is how long grief stays.

poem by Rosalinda Flores Martinez
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Whose Garden Was This?

This song appears on two albums, and was first released on the whose garden was this? album, and has also been released on the changes album.
Whose garden was this
It must have been lovely
Did it have flowers
Ive seen pictures of flowers
And Id love to have smelled one
Whose river was this
You say it ran freely
Blue was its colour
And Ive seen blue in some pictures
And Id love to have been there
Tell me again, I need to know
The forest had trees, the meadows were green
The oceans were blue
And birds really flew
Can you swear that its true
Whose grey sky was this
Or was it a blue one
You say they were breezes
Ive heard records of breezes
And Id love to have felt one
Tell me again, I need to know
The forest had trees, the meadows were green
The oceans were blue
And birds really flew
Can you swear that its true
Whose garden was this
It must have been lovely
Did it have flowers
Ive seen pictures of flowers
And Id love to have smelled one
Tell me again, I need to know
Tell me again, I need to know
Tell me again, I need to know
Words and music by tom paxton

song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
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In my grief

In my grief
I have forgotten I have a friend
I have not remember there is YOU
Who are willing to wipe away my tears.

In my grief
I have hurt you my friend
I run hiding in my own cocoon
And left you alone wandering where I am

In my grief
I ignore you calling my name
I have close my eyes for your need of a friend
And left you alone in your lament

After my grief
I look for where you are
But couldn’t find you anymore
Coz you grew tired waiting for me

poem by Tear Drops
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Used To Be

An avenue that used to be
Now with a lone sideroad tree all by itself
A spring garden of purple roses spreading from up hill down through the valley
A colourful sunset azure that used to reflect from a rose garden is never seen any more
The colour of your smile that used to be
Now paints black all over my face
I loved to miss you then
But I miss to love you now
All that never mattered then is what matters now
I used to be free then but Im enslaved now
I wish I had loved now like I was loved then

poem by Moffat Mbuzi
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I dreamt of walking in a lovely garden

(after Percy Bysshe Shelley)

I dreamt of walking in a lovely garden
and it was in the time of spring
where sprouts appeared where the ground did harden
and everywhere I could hear birds sing.

Around me there were flowers everywhere,
irises in colours of yellow, purple and blue,
scented roses in white, orange and red that made me stare
at their particular lovely hue.

Everything was fresh and new after the rain showers
and in that garden I was somewhat cosy,
I wanted to pick a bunch of flowers,
tie them into a scented posy

and I wondered for who,
as no one to me was true.

[Reference: “The Question” by Percy Bysshe Shelley.]

poem by Gert Strydom
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The Bird's Complaint

I am constantly reminded of the bygone times
Those garden's springs, those chorus of chimes

Gone are the freedoms of our own nests
Where we could come and go at our own pleasure

My heart aches the moment I think
Of the buds' smile at the dew's tears

That beautiful figure, that Kamini's form
Which source of happiness in my nest did form

I do not hear those lovely sounds in my cage now
May it happen that my freedom be in my own hands now!

How unfortunate I am, tantalized for my abode I am
My companions are in the home‐land, in the prison I am

Spring has arrived, the flower buds are laughing
On my misfortune in this dark house I am wailing

God, To whom should I relate my tale of woe?
I fear lest I die in this cage with this woe (grief) !

Since separation from the garden the condition of my heart is such
My heart is waxing the grief, my grief is waxing the heart

O Listeners, considering this music do not be happy
This call is the wailing of my wounded heart

O the one who confined me make me free
A silent prisoner I am, earn my blessings free

poem by Allama Muhammad Iqbal
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My Garden Fair

Flowers are blooming in
my garden fair. Their
sweet perfume fills the
air. My Garden fair is
beautiful to see., with all
its glory surrounding me.
My garden fair is romantic
and bright, and so redeeming
in sunlight where song birds
nestle in the trees, and sing
with each flowing breeze.
My garden fair is a glorious
sight, that I rush to greet
at twilight my garden fair is
most supreme with such lovely
enchanting scenes.

poem by Dr. Janice Marie Murrell
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Hope in Heaven's Day

Grief be mine, I ask you so,
If not for you, I wouldn't know,
How life once was and then be still,
How so precious, that death do steal.
Because that grief, won't go away,
Learn to let it have its way.
The link to love, a precious one,
Is met with grief and still not done.
The days do come, and nights do go,
Grief will stay as time is so.
And so a loved one passes on,
And grief comes in and carries on.
Does grief get better, I will ask,
It's hard to say, while at its task.
There is grief to help us cope,
There is God to give us hope.
Grief will surely go away,
On that glorious heaven's day.
But while its here, there's just one thing,
Pray our Lord, for peace he'll bring.

poem by Arlene Dery
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Once Upon A Time

Meeting you in the park and talking in the pouring rain
(oh what a time we had)
Running home in the dark and pretending it was all a game
(oh what a time)
Those were the days, those were the days
Memories of you have really left a scar
And all that I can do now is to love you from afar
cos everything was fine
That once upon a time
Asking you if youd stay, not believing that you might
(oh what a time we had)
Missing you through the day, dreaming of you through the night
(oh what a time)
Those were the days, those were the days
Though theres no denying that youre nowhere around
I cant help myself from looking for your face amongst the crowd
cos everything was fine, that once upon a time
Have to leave the past behind me and get on the right track
Though theres nothing I can say that will ever bring you back
But everything was fine, that once upon a time
I wish I knew for how much longer this misery will last
Cant control these feelings, Im still living in the past
cos everything was fine, that once upon a time
Ive got to build my life again, try to find somebody new
But I know inside my heart of hearts therell be no replacing you
But everything was fine, that once upon a time

song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
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At Parting II

AND you could leave me now--
After the first remembered whispered vow
Which sings for ever and ever in my ears--
The vow which God among His Angels hears--
After the long-drawn years,
The slow hard tears,
Could break new ground, and wake
A new strange garden to blossom for your sake,
And leave me here alone,
In the old garden that was once our own?

How should I learn to bear
Our garden's pleasant ways and pleasant air,
Her flowers, her fruits, her lily, her rose and thorn,
When only in a picture these appear--
These, once alive, and always over-dear?
Ah--think again: the rose you used to wear
Must still be more than other roses be
The flower of flowers. Ah, pity, pity me!

For in my acres is no plot of ground
Whereon could any garden site be found,
I have but little skill
To water weed and till
And make the desert blossom like the rose;
Yet our old garden knows
If I have loved its ways and walks and kept
The garden watered, and the pleasance swept.

Yet--if you must--go now:
Go, with my blessing filling both your hands,
And, mid the desert sands
Which life drifts deep round every garden wall,
Make your new festival
Of bud and blossom--red rose and green leaf.
No blight born of my grief
Shall touch your garden, love; but my heart's prayer
Shall draw down blessings on you from the air,
And all we learned of leaf and plant and tree
Shall serve you when you walk no more with me
In garden ways; and when with her you tread
The pleasant ways with blossoms overhead
And when she asks, 'How did you come to know
The secrets of the ways these green things grow?'
Then you will answer--and I, please God, hear,
'I had another garden once, my dear'.

poem by Edith Nesbit
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