There is no doubt that the exceptional structure of a jasmine flower is part of the complete victory of beauty on earth;
I collect jasmine flowers every morning and put them in my soul.
Camelia Oprița in Universul Iubirii (13 July 2007)
Submitted by Alexander
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Hindu Wedding On A Jasmine Day
The season of JASMINE is blooming.
Wedding is on a day of JASMINE.
The couple are ready for the holy-bond.
Guests are ready with their blessing-band.
Baskets of garlands and stringed JASMINE,
With decorative JASMINE tassles is pleasing.
The fragrance of JASMINE is ambrosial!
Breathtaking! JASMINES' aroma is celestial.
Her long plait padded with JASMINES strung,
Atop with strands of JASMINE being swung,
The bride is given a garland of JASMINE.
Also the 'groom is given a garland of JASMINE.
The family deity is adorned with JASMINE.
The guests are given strands of JASMINE.
The couple garland each other in heck.
The 'groom ties an yellow thread around bride's neck.
The priest makes the groom by seven steps,
Promise to guard his spouse in life's ups.
Splattering holy rice and scenty JASMINE,
All bless 'LONG SMELLY LIKE JASMINE'!
poem by Indira Renganathan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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1. Sisterly Love
the indian woman is
a tormented soul
weeping secret tears
ink that writes lines
of anguish all over
her countenance
her large, sharp and slit eyes
pour longingly into the
the jasmine she strings
everyday for hours
in india street
pure, white, dainty
a softness and scent
that two days from now
will be nothing more than
a dehydrated mess
a mere sore to the eyes
a transience fills the gap
between the flowers
a string of luxury that helps
her to keep a sister close
to her hands, her heart
first jasmine, a sister's
smile, second jasmine,
a sister's promises,
third jasmine, another
sister's smile, fourth
jasmine.....every gap she feels
a loss, a love her fingers will no
more grasp and a sister
her eyes will no more hold
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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A Flower To Auroville Mother-35
Yellow Jasmine, (Italian Jasmine,
Jasminum humile)
Atlast, I've found her
Long-lasting fragrant
Pentapetaled brighter
A Jasmine so anticipant
Yellowy, godly rewarding
Daughter of Himalayas
Willowy angularly branching
Shrubby with pinnate leaves
A Jasmine so anticipant
Of respect and worship
Inviting charm and scent
Medicative sure a godship
poem by Indira Renganathan
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The Wind, One Brilliant Day
The wind, one brilliant day, called
to my soul with an odor of jasmine.
'In return for the odor of my jasmine,
I'd like all the odor of your roses.'
'I have no roses; all the flowers
in my garden are dead.'
'Well then, I'll take the withered petals
and the yellow leaves and the waters of the fountain.'
the wind left. And I wept. And I said to myself:
'What have you done with the garden that was entrusted to you?'
poem by Antonio Machado
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Sonnet Of Motherhood X
I walked among the flowers that bend their heads
Low to the earth and back again to light,
Hearing them prattle of their blue and white—
Violet and jasmine in the bordered beds.
They whispered them of every wing that weds
388ഊFragrance to fragrance in the dusky night;
And, seeing them, I knew another sight,
And saw them bowing where all Beauty spreads.
I touched each petal with the sunbeams flaked—
Roses and pansies of the early morn,
Lilies that lilted of the moon’s light grace,
And left them hushed when all my joy was slaked;
For in the garden of my soul, God-born,
Each flower made beauty for my child’s soft face.
poem by Zora Bernice May Cross
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The raindrop whispered to the jasmine, "Keep me in your heart for ever." The jasmine sighed, "Alas," and dropped to the ground.
aphorism by Rabindranath Tagore from Stray Birds (1916), translated by Rabindranath Tagore
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Night Jasmine- Tree of Sorrow
Mild, balmy breeze,
Hauntingly fragrant
With Night Jasmine.
A small evergreen tree,
Twinkling
With ivory white flowers
In my garden,
Resplendent at night,
Like the star
Studded sky.
Before the day breaks,
The tree silently sheds
Its crowning glory
On Mother Earth’s breast.
To pay homage
In all humility.
Overcome with wonder
I find myself ponder,
As I gather the flowers
In my wicker basket
On my way to the temple.
To offer
To the deity
At the altar.
Oh, Harshingar,
Why are you
Called
The Tree of Sorrow?
Night Jasmine is called Harshingar and Paarijatta in India its
A sacred tree, grown in temples. Flowers are offered to the deity in the temples. there are many myths associated with it.
poem by Mamta Agarwal
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Not Fitting In Despite All Those Years
sometimes you envy
the monk in maroon peacefully
crossing the street
somewhere in Ho Chi Minh
or even an earthen bowl half-filled with water
with a jasmine flower floating
upon a very still world
you like to take the brush and some water colors
to paint all these
but it is a little crowded world you have there
there is simply no time for wasting
it's a fast paced lifestyle
the lifelessness of the to and fro
the unstoppable flow
trying to accomplish almost everything
without meaning.
somewhere in a dream
you wish you were the monk
or even
the jasmine
and then you hit your chest with your fist
convincing yourself that at a certain hour
you can be so foolish
still not fitting in despite all those years
'how can you be a beautiful jasmine in a concrete wall?
how can you be the monk in maroon in a public market full of
swindlers and screaming spice vendors? '
amidst the mess, in the middle of the crowd
how can you be a dream?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Prayer of an Orphan Child
The Prayer of an Orphan Child
Silver clouds silver clouds
Will you play with me as a mate?
As an orphan,
none is there to play with me.
Ivory moon. My Sweety
will you kiss me to bid good night?
As a motherless child
to remember Her love.
Jasmine buds, Jasmine buds
Will you smile in morning times
to stay in your beauty and
to keep your smile always
Chilly breeze My Darling!
Will you raise me from my bed?
to enjoy the sweetness of dawns and
to pray Him for giving my thanks
poem by Sakthi Ravichandran
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Perfect Lie/ You Are Loved The Way You Are
Stand in front of the mirror
Either boys or girls, some got depression
Try to find yourself underneath the reflection
Dissect each point, seek for perfection
Dreaming of perfection, adore some corrections
Never know the word of satisfy
Already beautiful but admire to modify
Don't you know who really you are?
You are loved by the way you are
Most of us rather see what appeared outside
always forgot to evaluate what lies inside
Most of us deceived by the open eyesight
always fooled because blinded heart-sight
Perfection makes everyone affected
Perfect one is what you wanted
Perfect lie is what you invented
Perfect word only a word that human created
A real you, that what you have neglected
Dear,
Don't feel down,
if u are blessed as jasmine flower
Why must you envy of that sunflower
I know, it is big, sweet yellow, catchy for eyes to look
But, don't you know sunflower adore the way you look?
Hypnotize fragrance by cute in white, posses its own hook
So unfair to compare the different beauty you both look
Jasmine, u never be sunflower even u dressed in yellow
The fake pigment will fade away soon
Sunflower, perfumed never make u placed in jasmine row
The artificial scent will gone before noon
No need to hear anyone to drag you down
Yet thou be like a rose, beauty guarded by thorns
Thankful to have what u have now
You always loved by who you are now
It is always good to be yourself
Better than lost yourself in your own lie
In fantasy, to taste perfection, perfect lie u got
In reality, perfection is only belong to God
And...you are always loved the way you are
*Note: U are beautiful, no matter what people say...
This is for everyone that think they are not good enough
in many aspects not limited to beauty perception
poem by Unwritten Soul
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Sweet Love
Love
You are still my friend
Though you took away my flower
Each lamplit evening has an end
Tears on a page our april shower.
My heart, so lightly squeezed
By the ghost that did depart
My soul that her memory eased
The faintest hope would fire start.
So, love of jasmine scent
I look above
For romance lent
- Until the day on distant sand
I'll lose my way
But find her hand.
Oh, love whose heart still beats
Brings me her victory
Through my defeats.
Her eyes unknown burn with the night
One seed was sown in morning light
- To grow our day
When lips do touch
Love takes away
But gives so much.
And that's why love
You're still my friend
Now these two flowers will sway and bend
Our music pulsates
- crescendo of elation
As time the thief awaits
Sweet love
That rainbow of creation.
poem by Kevin East
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Summer Breeze
See the curtains hanging in the window
In the evening on a Friday night
A little light shining through the window
Lets me know that everything's alright
Summer breeze, well it makes me feel fine
Blowing through the jasmine in my mind
Summer breeze, makes me feel fine
Blowing through my, makes me feel it right
Making me feel, making me feel fine
Makes me feel fine
Blowing through the jasmine in my mind
Oh sweet days of summer, the jasmine's in bloom
July is dressed up and playing her tune
And when I come home from a hard day's work
And you're waiting there, yes you're waiting there
Without A care in the world
I see the smile awaiting in the kitchen
Food's cooking and a place there for two
I see the arms that reach out to hold me
In the evening when the day is through
Summer breeze, well it makes me feel fine
Blowing through the jasmine in my mind
Summer breeze, makes me feel fine
Blowing through my, making me feel right
Making me feel, making me feel fine
Makes me feel right
Blowing through the jasmine in my, blowing blowing(x5)
Blowing through the jasmine in my mind
song performed by by Jason Mraz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A gift for every occasion! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
The bracelet of fresh and fragile white fragrant
Jasmine buds, its soft feel and sensuous scent,
That you so tenderly slipped on my wrist
And the look in your eyes, and your tight grip.
I still remember, as I fondly look
At the string I had dried, in my scrapbook.
Sitting by bay window, watching twilight
Smiled to myself, reminisce about that night.
Today to make up after a bad fight,
Cold vibes; we both felt wee bit contrite.
You tied jasmine in my hair; and I lay
Wondering, how flowers quietly convey
What somehow, we all feel uneasy to say
At times words limit us, ego comes in way.
There are flowers for every occasion;
Act as bridge with little persuasion.
poem by Mamta Agarwal
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A Flower To Auroville Mother-50
Confederate jasmine(Star jasmine
Trachelospermum jasminoides)
You came to me as the scenting star
In my arduous flower-hunting war
But the captive is me ever you caught
Freeing yourself tangling my thought
Such is your fragrance from far afar
Tied my quest ensconced in your car
At that I could hold on well with you
Ever green even two-tone as blush you
Timely when you change to new posies
Piwheeled white petals in high bliss
A neat slender wiring ovately leafed..
What then? I grow fragrant overwhelmed
Star, come along as all I on traverse
Just to perfume and not to reverse
But to grow all and everywhere I go
With all the latex to shoot new so
poem by Indira Renganathan
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The Black Roses
In the garden of wild plants
I search for a Rose or a Lily.
The laugh of the plants get subdued
Then I look for a Jasmine or a Hibiscus.
Then I hear the sob of a flower a little away
With black petals all within her.
'Who are you all? ', I queried.
'You call us black roses', they said.
Unplucked, untouched and unfelt they remain
The black roses of a wild region!
'May I pluck one of you? ' I asked.
'You are welcome to liberate us all' they said.
Liberation! I am a bit confused,
Liberation of a flower is a novel idea
And I return with a few black roses
For I cant liberate them by plucking at a go.
The Rose fades, the Lily shrinks,
The Jasmine dries up and the Hibiscus falls.
But my mind says to me now for certain,
'These Black Roses will bloom in your gardens once'.
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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The Jasmine Corridor
In all my lives, I never knew anyone like you before.
Woke up one day, swore I heard the sound of heaven knocking on my door.
And after all these years long passing,
Time to reflect, no time for wasting.
Walking down the jasmine corridor.
Reflecting echoes of quiet laughter.
In all my life, I was never better served than I was served by you.
And in my way, hope you agree I tried to serve you too.
Out on the headland I stepped once unsteady.
You there to catch me , I breathe more freely.
Hand in mine down the jasmine corridor.
Through all my life, I chased flitting illusions at a faster pace.
Never stopped to think: the moment was for seizing, had myself to face.
You made my bed to lie in, stately.
Mad cats, grandchildren, here more often lately.
The final view from the jasmine corridor.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What’s in God’s mind?
Now my hopes are like Night-jasmine!
Do you know for sure what I mean?
They bloom at night and fall in the morning
They look so nice but they are short-living!
Now my life is like a dead rose plant -
It wants flower but God doesn’t grant!
I believe firmly God is the Most Kind
But I can’t understand what’s in His mind!
poem by Asif Andalib
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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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Poetry And Flowers
Lark and rose go mad, even with winter
coming on, the garden beneath the verandah blooms,
the park is dense with sun and soccer balls.
By lark I mean generic bird, God knows
the names for all these things with wings. Ditto
the rose: the garden drooling colour and bloom.
Lavender I recognise, and jasmine climbing
the concrete wall, and a real rose in the corner,
red as blood. I meant to say: birds and flowers
go ballistic, even with winter coming on.
Carrying on their own life. The earth drowns
in the blooming. Even when there is no wind there is
the solar wind, whipping our bodies from the depths of space.
Ferocities of trees bent double. Playing soccer,
nobody notices this. The far park flutters in mirage.
The jasmine is awash with butterflies.
poem by Luke Davies
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Hint Of Jasmine
The hint of jasmine
seeped through the broken pane
for the occupant within.
Those that walked the corridors
on their endless trek
searching for their lost loves
they never wanted to let go.
The yawn of a door opening
beckons someone in
then the click of it closing
shows that they are gone again.
Still the occupants wander
on their endless trek
as the hint of jasmine
lingers in the air.
14 October 2009
poem by David Harris
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