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anastasiad Jun 2017
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anessa breanne Oct 2013
Written by: David & Sherri Phelps**

She was like the roses in the garden,
a timeless work of art in crimson shade.
But like each bud that opens up to wither,
her perfume ebbs away, her scarlet color fades.

He was like wildflowers in the springtime.
He never cared too much about where he grew,
his time was brief, but filled with vibrant passion.
Then he rode a breeze away,
as wild flowers often do.

And I remember,
I remember,
I remember, cause I still have days
their fragrance drifts to me on Jordan's tide.
So I won't forget,
I won't forget their never gone their just
blooming on the other side.

She was like a daisy in the meadow,
a welcome smile that's shared between two friends.
Kisses hugs and laughter were her petals,
and she have them all away,
until her seasons end.

And I remember,
I remember,
I remember, cause I still have days
their fragrance drifts to me on Jordan's tide.
So I won't forget,
I won't forget their never gone their just
blooming on the other side.

One day I will see, in that garden fair,
those who wait for me over there.

I remember,
I remember,
I remember, cause I still have days
their fragrance drifts to me on Jordan's tide.
So I won't forget,
I won't forget their never gone their just
blooming on the other side.
Blooming on the other side.
This is a song I'd heard after my grandpa's death. The lyrics are rare and thought I'd share them here.
Sit back and relax
Feel the waves wash over your back
In the melting sun
Looking at the clouds reflecting all the pinks and blues
Over the blooming hill, echoing white noise of chirps and crickets

Listen to the trickling of the slow water over the smooth rocks
Feel a warm wind brush your face
With your eyes closed
Enjoying the radiating warmth
And the soothing crackling of a log fire

Or sit and admire the shimmering spray
Of a waterfall smoothly crashing into the water of a sky kissed lake
Sunlight dancing through the vapor
Rainbows jumping through every droplet

Listen to the pitter patter of the rain, against a tin roof
Inside a warm cabin
Drifting to sleep
Soon to wake to the song bird's chorus
And the blissful sun

Bask in it
And relax
Marian Jan 2014
~-English-~

The Beauty Of Flowers (Multiple Tankas I)

A field of tulips
Is where I laid down to sleep
And dream a sweet dream
Dew sparkled on the tulips
And fell upon my fair cheeks

In the shady woods
Ladyslipper Orchids grow
Near a babbling brook.
Yellows and Pinks standing tall
With ferns spreading all around.

Beside the ocean
The hibiscus are blooming
Such a sweet perfume
Lingers on the salty breeze
Such beautiful rainbow hues

Snowdrops are the first
To appear blooming in frost
Pure white heads nodding.
Cold hardy and full of life,
They offer a hope of Spring.

Beside the farmhouse
Gardenias are blooming
White satin blossoms
Their perfume is breathtaking
Rain-washed petals of fragrance

~Timothy & Marian~


~-French-~

La beauté des fleurs (plusieurs Tankas je)

Un champ de tulipes
Est où j'ai prévue de dormir
Et un doux rêve
Rosée brillait sur les tulipes
Et tomba sur mes joues justes

Dans les bois ombragés
Ladyslipper orchidées poussent
Près d'un petit ruisseau.
Jaunes et roses debout
Avec fougères répand tout autour.

À côté de l'océan
L'hibiscus sont en fleurs
Tel un doux parfum
S'attarde sur la brise salée
Ces teintes belle arc-en-ciel

Perce-neige est les premiers
À comparaître fleurissant en gel
Têtes blanches pures hochant la tête.
Résistantes au froid et pleine de vie,
Ils offrent un espoir de printemps.

À côté de la ferme
Gardénias sont en fleurs
Fleurs de satin blancs
Leur parfum est à couper le souffle
Pétales restés du parfum

*~ Timothy et Marian ~
Another Dad and Daughter collaboration.
Hope you enjoy! :)
© Timothy 10 January, 2014.
© Marian 10 January, 2014.
Shofi Ahmed Mar 2017
I
A flower that smells of pure bliss keeps an ear to the ground
It's a serene one sitting beneath the stars down on earth
The moon, far, far, seven seas away, loves to drop into her lap.

The Bay of Bengal billows, music has gotten beneath the skin.
The leaves furl out off the deep wood with the birds
singing out to the top of the trees, rhyming with the leafy dance.
Heavensent, that was in one sanguine day in the spring.
The Mother’s Language Movement in 1952 sprouted like this
on the eighth of native Falgun month—oh magic did it unleash!

On that day our beloved brothers were shot dead
They could swallow the bullets with smiles but won’t give up
demanding the official status for the Bangla mother tongue.
Angels wrapped round the martyrs amid lamenting mothers
Laid them on Falgun’s perfumed ground bleeding corpses
Seas of roses bloomed and blew them out red, red kisses!

They are gone not the stone wall of consciousness they raised
Ah, at the sprout of the spring what were they echoing?
Ingrained deep in the soil the pre-designing voice in the planning?
Who can tell? The world gels on February 21 in celebrating!

The angels then snapped up our martyrs’ souls off the land,
placed them on a piece of Heaven where they can hear the jingle.
Down on earth, a nation springs up, has gotten its wake up call!
Stepping on the sweetening arc of the mother tongue melody
the stone turns a flower, all in a butterfly moment soaring to victory.
Thanks to the movement - Bangladesh itself later comes to be!

II
The sun comes down to the rose painting on the land
In the heavenly Falgun hues it nibbles some wild summer dreams.
“Serene songs of earth stirring the water,” like it comes into play,
rowing the cloud bubbles singing in southern breeze.
Ah, a walk on the sun-kissed kaleidoscope land is a pure bliss.  
Every blossom spray of the wind is soothing sweet
Hop on and play straight to the ruby heart, as if it's a flute.

Mother tongue means speak free, fearless, in full streaming.
Speak the heart to the world without the fear of losing the cloud
that will listen, bouncing back on the brink of the sky river.
Then what did one say, hear, or was awed by in the blooming Falgun?
Could it have been the spring humming in her native lingua
or King David singing in mother tongue by babbling brooks
what in any other language, even with a silver tongue, isn’t possible?

Allah has listened to our martyrs’ crying mothers and fathers
The martyrs’ souls whisk through the galaxies and starry fair.

Soar high over the clouds, take the rainbow's *** of gold away,
Like a hue turns 360-degree in the colourwheel bask into the colour.
Still, dip the toes in Bangla mother’s soil salted with perfumed art
Like Himalayan water swirling down melting deeper deep down
This magicland is polished for everyone be it you, a fairy, a star
or off the ploughed-out barrow a walked out wonder!

A pristine voice duo’s voiceprint gleans to the spring in muse,
Pops in a beauteous scurry and speaks in the mother tongue!
Hidden within the earthy depth, only emerges with time,
only dances in tangent, that day slipped out with the butterflies.
And finally the blue nymphs take the plunge drop down the sky  
That day the mother’s voice triumphed, whose is the most original!
This is a poem from my book Zero and One available on Amazon.
Shofi Ahmed Mar 2017
Before long the summer sun will rise in London
Like the half of the Ge meets the other half.
Like a magic by the Lamp of Aladdin
The love flame hidden in the chest lits out!

Like a blooming rose in a glowing beam of light,
Like a smiling face speaks a gentle word,
Like a beautiful sunrise colour in the first light!

The summer in London will pop and sizzle
We will see a threshold in our land.
The rose for a while is tucked away
Off the winter and is given to the sun
Winter is not forever spring is on the corner
Come back in the sun with the early bird
Before Cinderella takes on the primrose path.

Keeping an eye on a thriller is in the winter’s field
Oozy ozone misty land gets a gingerly seasoning
What on earth will it strike, will it dish out?
Ah, the sun will pop out like a river breeze.

Like a southern song singing on a dream scene.
a smooth fairy dance facing the Moon
a thrill of exposing Stonehenge once and for all
a melodious raindrop in the serene pond
a butterfly dance on the rose
a turned on tall tale of the blue peacock
Like a pure belief in heaven without a pinch of salt!
This is a poem from my book Zero and One available on Amazon.
NeroameeAlucard Jun 2016
I'm blooming can't you see
The soil hasn't been kind to me
It's like trying to break through hot gravel
Or cold concrete
I'm blooming, it just takes a long time
Longer than it would to find 5 weird words that rhyme with time, because this lack of rain has come at a horrible time

I'm growing, my roots spread slowly but surely
I'm not sure when I'm going to flower but I'm glad it's not too early
Patience is necessary when dealing with me, as I'm a work in progress but clearly that you cannot see
You expected a finished product but I was given to you as I was

Maybe I shouldn't be planted by you
.. you can't wait on my leaves to grow robust
andromeda green Apr 2018
Are you okay?
Are you alright, are you fine, are you good?
Are you adequate, are you decent?
Are you emotionally stable, sleeping without crying, smiling because you want to?
Are you breathing without questioning, are you waking up without trying, are you eating without throwing up?
Are you reading this poem right now and thinking no?
Are you thinking for the first time, will I ever be okay?

You will be okay.
You will be alright, you will be fine, you will be good.
You will be adequate, you will be decent.
You will be emotionally stable, you will sleep without crying, and smile for the happiness blooming inside of you.
You will breathe without questioning, you will wake up to a new day, you will eat easily
You
are going to be okay.
So please smile sunshine
It’s a fine new day
To be okay :)

- a.g.
just a reminder that everything gets better folks. please, please hang in there. i believe in each and one of y'all.

UPDATE: thank you so so so much for 51k. the overwhelming amount of comments and messages and loves make me feel so happy to spread this poem. thank you.
Keith J Collard Sep 2012
Forsythia enflamed,
with not yet budded rose,
together in bed,
together they grow.

thorn on bark climbed,
coming of red rose,
but yellow flames,
fell away long ago.

Rose petals,
Become rose hips,
No golden beauty,
His petals slip,
A wedding photo,
a wedding kiss,
Perrenial memories,
They always miss.

And not for him,
She fits into wedding dress,
And not for her he will look his best,
Hot summer and early spring,
Meet and marry with no engagement ring.


Together in bed, they grow old,
hugging in the autumn cold,
no more vain red rose,
no more gold to behold,
Not blooming for bees not blooming for snow,
No blooming for others, nor blooming for show.
Umi Mar 2018
Even though humans struggle to live and darkness is easier memorized than light..
Moments of bliss and happiness are still likely to occur,
Perhaps not today perhaps it will take a longer time,
That is what I find very beautiful,
The love of life which rarely is set ablaze by events,
Rejoicing, in the truest bliss alike spiders in their tiny dance,
Forgetting the heavy rain and feeling alive on the highest level,
Even though, it is likely to fade as if it was dust carried away by a gentle breeze of the coming spring, far away till the horizon,
A moment of love can change a persons view of the world,
Motivate them to keep on fighting to experience the sheer amount of joy and happiness carried to them by the purest state of the mind,
Until all the shrapnel of their hearts rejoin and shine beyond the scene, with light coming from above the heavens, golden, free of sin,
And when the sunset ends these cheerful moments, their memories live on, reminding, recalling and pointing out to fight furthermore,
Even though humans stuggle to live wretchedly,
Living,
Is what I find very beautiful.

~ Umi
Morgan Mercury Oct 2014
I never thought I would fall for you twice,
but here I am writing this poem.
I'm just a dandelion lost in this greenhouse
surrounded by these blooming beauties.
But hoping, hopefully
you would make a wish out of me.
You've got this look that makes me crave adventure.
You've got mountains in your eyes
and the northern wind in your soul.
I can't remember the last thing you said to me
and that's okay.
We never talked much thanks to my anxiety.
I'm not too far but my words have failed me so many moons
how am I suppose to talk to you?
You've got your future gripped tight by the wrist
and my hands are lost in all this space.
Maybe sometime in the years to come, I'll discover your footprints
and remember my high school crush all over again.
I'll stop and think if you're out in California making coffee for people,
like I overheard you say you wanted to do in math class that one time,
or strumming a guitar solo on stage somewhere in the city.
I just hope wherever you find yourself in time to come you're happy and smiling brighter than the stars.
I know not much will happen in these last eight months we have together,
but I want to thank you for the day you introduced yourself to me because you knew no one else in the class.
I know I'm just a dandelion in this great big greenhouse,
but I'm just really happy that you noticed me.
2014
Robin Carretti Jul 2018
The sunny time's no old news
She is doing the walking in her
instant replay just pray for her
The Instant "Karma Shoes"

Any or too many Travelers' Advice
       ---    ....   _   _gone.. down
You set your own sunset like a price

A lovely lady bringing out
Her sunset went lower down her
body waves
What's inside us that craves?
It's time for you to figure out
her clues

Like he's the detective

A mind is a terrible thing to waste
Being selective pickier
The colors of the sunset change tricky
Burning heart love can be massive
What lines ahead of both of them
The crimes build like a guild

To run or to paint a lovely stay put
Eyes move the sunset
Like a crystal rock shield
Medieval love don't move
Changes the sun yellow yield
The women so beautiful
as they are to hold
  The King-set the chair or cheer
drinking
International  lip to lip he gets
The waitress jumps in an instant
Him or the hugs of bears or  beers

In her honor the Tapestry
What an artistry pink reds
burnt orange
The Venus of Dynasty

Instant Karma thinks he's
the Genious that prodigy
It will get you in your
boxers inside
Like a top student of biology
Like she's the
instant pudding smooth
To mix movie buff
The network like a NetFlix
She had another brainstorm
That's another flavor
puddling to fix
What are you waiting for?
What a gentleman opening
up her door
The Business workers, metals of hearts
Like steel robotic digging for metal heart
the undertakers tearing words apart
The true pledge leaders and
pitter scatter
heartbreakers
Was better watching the
Dog breeders your watch
Something changed at midnight
Cinderella without her clock

Who are the dreamers waiting for there love the sunset
It hot you don't get it yet? You need to cool off

The chocolate to die for the vanilla we cry for
In an instant, he opens her most dangerous door
Watch your heels clicking time bomb floor

You decide the bet never the ring box set
Lord of the rings we are never ready
at the same time near the sunset

The Dragon Lady like a picnic of flies
Vanilla sky

Dinner at eight Jean Harlow
How did she get into the picture
Don't ask why?

Just mellow transcend the prime
picture yellow
Like wings, you smile the butterfly
Your steps will get you just realize

In his Gucci shoes in the sandals
That sunflower hits her every hour
The instant smile resort
Be a sport, the sunset goes down
Can we change someone's heart
Another bone to throw dog watchers
X-Box you're moving to watch your
weight watchers
Your sunset all blood sweat and
tears beard trimming

The Dalmatian keeps taking your spots

How many times to be outfoxed
That sunset will be my last lick shot
Another heart to repair
Have dignity it's hard to work miracles
Don't fall for Autumn
when its the summertime

Her pink blush you heard it through
the grapevine wine
I heard her through the grapevine
How many times did she want him to be mine?

Sweet Caroline loves her lemonade
Flowers at her stand how lovely
Adds character like a big fun parade
They are  growing how her brain works
losing hope
The trees wake you up the color's alive

She's blooming innocent
until we meet again my sunset after 5
  The first time so instantly I saw her face
Those instant messages you need to feel
to regain consciousness your
skin of a  baby seal

She's the cloud passing her
whip cream delicious
But you have been whiplashed
Love should be clean something
cruel leads to mean

Seeing the change to have perished
The sunset disappears when my love
grows deeper it moves to vanish

But someone plays with your head
like a game *Instant Karma

No time for daydreaming
Like a bundle of cute Pomskies
Part huskies and Pomeranians
The sunset is coming
In the strangest place
You've been backhanded
the card game kingdom

Like a demonic joke
Or going broke life is a
comic book Fandom
I phone ring every day
in June

But your not ready its way too soon
Another instant Karma I Tunes
Miss Apple Jubilee so materialistic
you had me
The tapestry box
Poems of letters paradox
Who is truly the go-getter
Someone is springing like a
change of season
The four seasons love liaisons
For the right reasons
Like a new renovation
Internationally speaking
the whole entire
Sunset lips look divine waiting wet
Please don't dampen her spirit
To Remember September to relive it

The Morning glory Sapphire

Her energy got riveting so cheek razzled
Like the magician lost his love facts
Instant Zazzle Red Riding hood
Looking down going to Grandmas house
But down and out like the sunset of the Gods

How the sunset keeps coming love is more puzzling?*

This is a small figment of your imagination
A small town is divided like division
But the huge love
Came with the Divination
Ruled by the bark and paws mission
Something got caught
Bone to pick near her sunset
They left the love was too much
The camera wasn't set up

The love Men they ran with the box set
of boxers and ruff with
mans best friend their boxer bark
Their home is their bark
Instant Karma this is in our heads, not the wedding bells that are to ring  just relax I don't bite perhaps a French croissant all night something is always crispy and flaky but what about dreamy or to top things off Sunset is not set into your ******* just racing over something this not real
Jay M Wong Apr 2013
Oh dear calming waves that brush upon the shore,
And blooming flowers and overcampusing trees a'more,
And the pleasant smells of freedom and liberty,
And the numerous hearts of my civilians sincerely.
For the most safest of places, shall I call my home,
And deem no infliction upon such values of my own.
Until what horrors have drawn a near,
Until what treacheries are we to share,
For 'tis a place of safekeeping have we deem,
No longer holds its name at all does it seem.
And much like the Titanic of a poem from before,
Have these fated deaths have but fate to blame for.
Oh shall we never recall this city as a tragic place,
Nor recall the Boston Massacre of 1770 with haste.
For no sane of man shall the slaughterings enjoy,
And for no family of one shall the deaths rejoice.
Remembrance of our people and our city's name,
Are we to call another terrorist is to blame?
Are we to call that be but the doing of tragic fate,
Or the will of God and towards our ideals He hate.
Or shall we blame it for the naiveness of us all,
Thinking that terror only upon namely's does it fall,
But for a city shall its peoples stand a'mass strong,
And rise from the ashes of horror and continue living on.
And shall we take the tragic seeds of what was left to sow,
And grow'st the blooming rose from the ashes as a whole.
A tribute to the Boston Marathon injuries and/or deaths and to their loved ones.
Robin Lemmen Aug 2018
Our entire relationship I felt
like all I was doing
was waiting for you and I to break
like goodbye was only one kiss away

And when I finally started feeling
like maybe, just maybe
we would prove ourselves wrong
you left me in shambles on the floor
shards of our favorite memories
cutting deep and letting me bleed
flowers painted red

I can't seem to escape
everything feels laced
with your winter remnants
blooming a stark white contrast
to my deep dark wounds
leaving broken roses everywhere
1

When lilacs last in the door-yard bloom’d,
And the great star early droop’d in the western sky in the night,
I mourn’d—and yet shall mourn with ever-returning spring.

O ever-returning spring! trinity sure to me you bring;
Lilac blooming perennial, and drooping star in the west,
And thought of him I love.

2

O powerful, western, fallen star!
O shades of night! O moody, tearful night!
O great star disappear’d! O the black murk that hides the star!
O cruel hands that hold me powerless! O helpless soul of me!
O harsh surrounding cloud, that will not free my soul!

3

In the door-yard fronting an old farm-house, near the white-wash’d palings,
Stands the lilac bush, tall-growing, with heart-shaped leaves of rich green,
With many a pointed blossom, rising, delicate, with the perfume strong I love,
With every leaf a miracle……and from this bush in the door-yard,
With delicate-color’d blossoms, and heart-shaped leaves of rich green,
A sprig, with its flower, I break.

4

In the swamp, in secluded recesses,
A shy and hidden bird is warbling a song.

Solitary, the thrush,
The hermit, withdrawn to himself, avoiding the settlements,
Sings by himself a song.

Song of the bleeding throat!
Death’s outlet song of life—(for well, dear brother, I know
If thou wast not gifted to sing, thou would’st surely die.)

5

Over the breast of the spring, the land, amid cities,
Amid lanes, and through old woods, (where lately the violets peep’d from the ground, spotting the gray debris;)
Amid the grass in the fields each side of the lanes—passing the endless grass;
Passing the yellow-spear’d wheat, every grain from its shroud in the dark-brown fields uprising;
Passing the apple-tree blows of white and pink in the orchards;
Carrying a corpse to where it shall rest in the grave,
Night and day journeys a coffin.

6

Coffin that passes through lanes and streets,
Through day and night, with the great cloud darkening the land,
With the pomp of the inloop’d flags, with the cities draped in black,
With the show of the States themselves, as of crape-veil’d women, standing,
With processions long and winding, and the flambeaus of the night,
With the countless torches lit—with the silent sea of faces, and the unbared heads,
With the waiting depot, the arriving coffin, and the sombre faces,
With dirges through the night, with the thousand voices rising strong and solemn;
With all the mournful voices of the dirges, pour’d around the coffin,
The dim-lit churches and the shuddering organs—Where amid these you journey,
With the tolling, tolling bells’ perpetual clang;
Here! coffin that slowly passes,
I give you my sprig of lilac.

7

(Nor for you, for one, alone;
Blossoms and branches green to coffins all I bring:
For fresh as the morning—thus would I carol a song for you, O sane and sacred death.

All over bouquets of roses,
O death! I cover you over with roses and early lilies;
But mostly and now the lilac that blooms the first,
Copious, I break, I break the sprigs from the bushes;
With loaded arms I come, pouring for you,
For you, and the coffins all of you, O death.)

8

O western orb, sailing the heaven!
Now I know what you must have meant, as a month since we walk’d,
As we walk’d up and down in the dark blue so mystic,
As we walk’d in silence the transparent shadowy night,
As I saw you had something to tell, as you bent to me night after night,
As you droop’d from the sky low down, as if to my side, (while the other stars all look’d on;)
As we wander’d together the solemn night, (for something, I know not what, kept me from sleep;)
As the night advanced, and I saw on the rim of the west, ere you went, how full you were of woe;
As I stood on the rising ground in the breeze, in the cold transparent night,
As I watch’d where you pass’d and was lost in the netherward black of the night,
As my soul, in its trouble, dissatisfied, sank, as where you, sad orb,
Concluded, dropt in the night, and was gone.

9

Sing on, there in the swamp!
O singer bashful and tender! I hear your notes—I hear your call;
I hear—I come presently—I understand you;
But a moment I linger—for the lustrous star has detain’d me;
The star, my departing comrade, holds and detains me.

10

O how shall I warble myself for the dead one there I loved?
And how shall I deck my song for the large sweet soul that has gone?
And what shall my perfume be, for the grave of him I love?

Sea-winds, blown from east and west,
Blown from the eastern sea, and blown from the western sea, till there on the prairies meeting:
These, and with these, and the breath of my chant,
I perfume the grave of him I love.

11

O what shall I hang on the chamber walls?
And what shall the pictures be that I hang on the walls,
To adorn the burial-house of him I love?

Pictures of growing spring, and farms, and homes,
With the Fourth-month eve at sundown, and the gray smoke lucid and bright,
With floods of the yellow gold of the gorgeous, indolent, sinking sun, burning, expanding the air;
With the fresh sweet herbage under foot, and the pale green leaves of the trees prolific;
In the distance the flowing glaze, the breast of the river, with a wind-dapple here and there;
With ranging hills on the banks, with many a line against the sky, and shadows;
And the city at hand, with dwellings so dense, and stacks of chimneys,
And all the scenes of life, and the workshops, and the workmen homeward returning.

12

Lo! body and soul! this land!
Mighty Manhattan, with spires, and the sparkling and hurrying tides, and the ships;
The varied and ample land—the South and the North in the light—Ohio’s shores, and flashing Missouri,
And ever the far-spreading prairies, cover’d with grass and corn.

Lo! the most excellent sun, so calm and haughty;
The violet and purple morn, with just-felt breezes;
The gentle, soft-born, measureless light;
The miracle, spreading, bathing all—the fulfill’d noon;
The coming eve, delicious—the welcome night, and the stars,
Over my cities shining all, enveloping man and land.

13

Sing on! sing on, you gray-brown bird!
Sing from the swamps, the recesses—pour your chant from the bushes;
Limitless out of the dusk, out of the cedars and pines.

Sing on, dearest brother—warble your reedy song;
Loud human song, with voice of uttermost woe.

O liquid, and free, and tender!
O wild and loose to my soul! O wondrous singer!
You only I hear……yet the star holds me, (but will soon depart;)
Yet the lilac, with mastering odor, holds me.

14

Now while I sat in the day, and look’d forth,
In the close of the day, with its light, and the fields of spring, and the farmer preparing his crops,
In the large unconscious scenery of my land, with its lakes and forests,
In the heavenly aerial beauty, (after the perturb’d winds, and the storms;)
Under the arching heavens of the afternoon swift passing, and the voices of children and women,
The many-moving sea-tides,—and I saw the ships how they sail’d,
And the summer approaching with richness, and the fields all busy with labor,
And the infinite separate houses, how they all went on, each with its meals and minutia of daily usages;
And the streets, how their throbbings throbb’d, and the cities pent—lo! then and there,
Falling upon them all, and among them all, enveloping me with the rest,
Appear’d the cloud, appear’d the long black trail;
And I knew Death, its thought, and the sacred knowledge of death.

15

Then with the knowledge of death as walking one side of me,
And the thought of death close-walking the other side of me,
And I in the middle, as with companions, and as holding the hands of companions,
I fled forth to the hiding receiving night, that talks not,
Down to the shores of the water, the path by the swamp in the dimness,
To the solemn shadowy cedars, and ghostly pines so still.

And the singer so shy to the rest receiv’d me;
The gray-brown bird I know, receiv’d us comrades three;
And he sang what seem’d the carol of death, and a verse for him I love.

From deep secluded recesses,
From the fragrant cedars, and the ghostly pines so still,
Came the carol of the bird.

And the charm of the carol rapt me,
As I held, as if by their hands, my comrades in the night;
And the voice of my spirit tallied the song of the bird.

DEATH CAROL.

16

Come, lovely and soothing Death,
Undulate round the world, serenely arriving, arriving,
In the day, in the night, to all, to each,
Sooner or later, delicate Death.

Prais’d be the fathomless universe,
For life and joy, and for objects and knowledge curious;
And for love, sweet love—But praise! praise! praise!
For the sure-enwinding arms of cool-enfolding Death.

Dark Mother, always gliding near, with soft feet,
Have none chanted for thee a chant of fullest welcome?

Then I chant it for thee—I glorify thee above all;
I bring thee a song that when thou must indeed come, come unfalteringly.

Approach, strong Deliveress!
When it is so—when thou hast taken them, I joyously sing the dead,
Lost in the loving, floating ocean of thee,
Laved in the flood of thy bliss, O Death.

From me to thee glad serenades,
Dances for thee I propose, saluting thee—adornments and feastings for thee;
And the sights of the open landscape, and the high-spread sky, are fitting,
And life and the fields, and the huge and thoughtful night.

The night, in silence, under many a star;
The ocean shore, and the husky whispering wave, whose voice I know;
And the soul turning to thee, O vast and well-veil’d Death,
And the body gratefully nestling close to thee.

Over the tree-tops I float thee a song!
Over the rising and sinking waves—over the myriad fields, and the prairies wide;
Over the dense-pack’d cities all, and the teeming wharves and ways,
I float this carol with joy, with joy to thee, O Death!

17

To the tally of my soul,
Loud and strong kept up the gray-brown bird,
With pure, deliberate notes, spreading, filling the night.

Loud in the pines and cedars dim,
Clear in the freshness moist, and the swamp-perfume;
And I with my comrades there in the night.

While my sight that was bound in my eyes unclosed,
As to long panoramas of visions.

18

I saw askant the armies;
And I saw, as in noiseless dreams, hundreds of battle-flags;
Borne through the smoke of the battles, and pierc’d with missiles, I saw them,
And carried hither and yon through the smoke, and torn and ******;
And at last but a few shreds left on the staffs, (and all in silence,)
And the staffs all splinter’d and broken.

I saw battle-corpses, myriads of them,
And the white skeletons of young men—I saw them;
I saw the debris and debris of all the dead soldiers of the war;
But I saw they were not as was thought;
They themselves were fully at rest—they suffer’d not;
The living remain’d and suffer’d—the mother suffer’d,
And the wife and the child, and the musing comrade suffer’d,
And the armies that remain’d suffer’d.

19

Passing the visions, passing the night;
Passing, unloosing the hold of my comrades’ hands;
Passing the song of the hermit bird, and the tallying song of my soul,
(Victorious song, death’s outlet song, yet varying, ever-altering song,
As low and wailing, yet clear the notes, rising and falling, flooding the night,
Sadly sinking and fainting, as warning and warning, and yet again bursting with joy,
Covering the earth, and filling the spread of the heaven,
As that powerful psalm in the night I heard from recesses,)
Passing, I leave thee, lilac with heart-shaped leaves;
I leave thee there in the door-yard, blooming, returning with spring,
I cease from my song for thee;
From my gaze on thee in the west, fronting the west, communing with thee,
O comrade lustrous, with silver face in the night.

20

Yet each I keep, and all, retrievements out of the night;
The song, the wondrous chant of the gray-brown bird,
And the tallying chant, the echo arous’d in my soul,
With the lustrous and drooping star, with the countenance full of woe,
With the lilac tall, and its blossoms of mastering odor;
With the holders holding my hand, nearing the call of the bird,
Comrades mine, and I in the midst, and their memory ever I keep—for the dead I loved so well;
For the sweetest, wisest soul of all my days and lands…and this for his dear sake;
Lilac and star and bird, twined with the chant of my soul,
There in the fragrant pines, and the cedars dusk and dim.
Anna Wood Apr 2012
Life is like a blooming rose
It starts out peaceful and innocent
Naturally finding its way
And time will continue
Until the rose is in full bloom
The next few weeks are perfect
For it is composed of pure beauty
But, like life, an end is near
And eventually that delicate rose
Falls, brown and lifeless

So enjoy the time of pure beauty
For yours could be long and great
Or yours could be like the rose
Stunningly beautiful in every way
But short lived and extinguishing
Victory Yang Apr 2014
Starting tomorrow, I will be a happy man,
Feeding horses, chopping firewood, and travelling around the world.
Starting tomorrow, I will care about crops and vegetables,
I will have a house facing the sea in the warm spring when flowers are blooming.

Starting tomorrow, I will write to my dear ones,
Telling every one of them
What that lightning of happiness has told me.
I will give every river and every mountain a warm name.

Strangers, I will also give you my blessing:
May you have a magnificent future;
May you and your lover eventually tie the knot;
May you find happiness in this mortal life.
I only wish to face the sea in the warm spring when flowers are blooming.
Translated from the original Chinese version written by Haizi
brenda Apr 2015
I was always more of an autumn girl, there was something so poetic about watching the leaves fall, maybe that's why I always hated spring. But then you appeared, on that hot april night. So full of leaves. You told me I was an unbloomed flower. So you water me with laughs and sweet words, in a couple of days I started blooming. And then I understood how wonderful spring was.
I now see flowers so differently and with so much respect, because it is so hard to bloom in the time we live in, we are so full of toxic people and words that stick to us like poison ivy, yet you made it look so easy for me.
you told me that I should bloom like a wildflower, no matter the place, no matter the season, no matter the circumstances, you have the ability to brighten up someone's path.

(b.c.)
May
Come queen of months in company
Wi all thy merry minstrelsy
The restless cuckoo absent long
And twittering swallows chimney song
And hedge row crickets notes that run
From every bank that fronts the sun
And swathy bees about the grass
That stops wi every bloom they pass
And every minute every hour
Keep teazing weeds that wear a flower
And toil and childhoods humming joys
For there is music in the noise
The village childern mad for sport
In school times leisure ever short
That crick and catch the bouncing ball
And run along the church yard wall
Capt wi rude figured slabs whose claims
In times bad memory hath no names
Oft racing round the nookey church
Or calling ecchos in the porch
And jilting oer the weather ****
Viewing wi jealous eyes the clock
Oft leaping grave stones leaning hights
Uncheckt wi mellancholy sights
The green grass swelld in many a heap
Where kin and friends and parents sleep
Unthinking in their jovial cry
That time shall come when they shall lye
As lowly and as still as they
While other boys above them play
Heedless as they do now to know
The unconcious dust that lies below
The shepherd goes wi happy stride
Wi moms long shadow by his side
Down the dryd lanes neath blooming may
That once was over shoes in clay
While martins twitter neath his eves
Which he at early morning leaves
The driving boy beside his team
Will oer the may month beauty dream
And **** his hat and turn his eye
On flower and tree and deepning skye
And oft bursts loud in fits of song
And whistles as he reels along
Cracking his whip in starts of joy
A happy ***** driving boy
The youth who leaves his corner stool
Betimes for neighbouring village school
While as a mark to urge him right
The church spires all the way in sight
Wi cheerings from his parents given
Starts neath the joyous smiles of heaven
And sawns wi many an idle stand
Wi bookbag swinging in his hand
And gazes as he passes bye
On every thing that meets his eye
Young lambs seem tempting him to play
Dancing and bleating in his way
Wi trembling tails and pointed ears
They follow him and loose their fears
He smiles upon their sunny faces
And feign woud join their happy races
The birds that sing on bush and tree
Seem chirping for his company
And all in fancys idle whim
Seem keeping holiday but him
He lolls upon each resting stile
To see the fields so sweetly smile
To see the wheat grow green and long
And list the weeders toiling song
Or short note of the changing thrush
Above him in the white thorn bush
That oer the leaning stile bends low
Loaded wi mockery of snow
Mozzld wi many a lushing thread
Of crab tree blossoms delicate red
He often bends wi many a wish
Oer the brig rail to view the fish
Go sturting by in sunny gleams
And chucks in the eye dazzld streams
Crumbs from his pocket oft to watch
The swarming struttle come to catch
Them where they to the bottom sile
Sighing in fancys joy the while
Hes cautiond not to stand so nigh
By rosey milkmaid tripping bye
Where he admires wi fond delight
And longs to be there mute till night
He often ventures thro the day
At truant now and then to play
Rambling about the field and plain
Seeking larks nests in the grain
And picking flowers and boughs of may
To hurd awhile and throw away
Lurking neath bushes from the sight
Of tell tale eyes till schools noon night
Listing each hour for church clocks hum
To know the hour to wander home
That parents may not think him long
Nor dream of his rude doing wrong
Dreading thro the night wi dreaming pain
To meet his masters wand again
Each hedge is loaded thick wi green
And where the hedger late hath been
Tender shoots begin to grow
From the mossy stumps below
While sheep and cow that teaze the grain
will nip them to the root again
They lay their bill and mittens bye
And on to other labours hie
While wood men still on spring intrudes
And thins the shadow solitudes
Wi sharpend axes felling down
The oak trees budding into brown
Where as they crash upon the ground
A crowd of labourers gather round
And mix among the shadows dark
To rip the crackling staining bark
From off the tree and lay when done
The rolls in lares to meet the sun
Depriving yearly where they come
The green wood pecker of its home
That early in the spring began
Far from the sight of troubling man
And bord their round holes in each tree
In fancys sweet security
Till startld wi the woodmans noise
It wakes from all its dreaming joys
The blue bells too that thickly bloom
Where man was never feared to come
And smell smocks that from view retires
**** rustling leaves and bowing briars
And stooping lilys of the valley
That comes wi shades and dews to dally
White beady drops on slender threads
Wi broad hood leaves above their heads
Like white robd maids in summer hours
Neath umberellas shunning showers
These neath the barkmens crushing treads
Oft perish in their blooming beds
Thus stript of boughs and bark in white
Their trunks shine in the mellow light
Beneath the green surviving trees
That wave above them in the breeze
And waking whispers slowly bends
As if they mournd their fallen friends
Each morning now the weeders meet
To cut the thistle from the wheat
And ruin in the sunny hours
Full many wild weeds of their flowers
Corn poppys that in crimson dwell
Calld ‘head achs’ from their sickly smell
And carlock yellow as the sun
That oer the may fields thickly run
And ‘iron ****’ content to share
The meanest spot that spring can spare
Een roads where danger hourly comes
Is not wi out its purple blooms
And leaves wi points like thistles round
Thickset that have no strength to wound
That shrink to childhoods eager hold
Like hair—and with its eye of gold
And scarlet starry points of flowers
Pimpernel dreading nights and showers
Oft calld ‘the shepherds weather glass’
That sleep till suns have dyd the grass
Then wakes and spreads its creeping bloom
Till clouds or threatning shadows come
Then close it shuts to sleep again
Which weeders see and talk of rain
And boys that mark them shut so soon
will call them ‘John go bed at noon
And fumitory too a name
That superstition holds to fame
Whose red and purple mottled flowers
Are cropt by maids in weeding hours
To boil in water milk and way1
For washes on an holiday
To make their beauty fair and sleak
And scour the tan from summers cheek
And simple small forget me not
Eyd wi a pinshead yellow spot
I’th’ middle of its tender blue
That gains from poets notice due
These flowers the toil by crowds destroys
And robs them of their lowly joys
That met the may wi hopes as sweet
As those her suns in gardens meet
And oft the dame will feel inclind
As childhoods memory comes to mind
To turn her hook away and spare
The blooms it lovd to gather there
My wild field catalogue of flowers
Grows in my ryhmes as thick as showers
Tedious and long as they may be
To some, they never weary me
The wood and mead and field of grain
I coud hunt oer and oer again
And talk to every blossom wild
Fond as a parent to a child
And cull them in my childish joy
By swarms and swarms and never cloy
When their lank shades oer morning pearls
Shrink from their lengths to little girls
And like the clock hand pointing one
Is turnd and tells the morning gone
They leave their toils for dinners hour
Beneath some hedges bramble bower
And season sweet their savory meals
Wi joke and tale and merry peals
Of ancient tunes from happy tongues
While linnets join their fitful songs
Perchd oer their heads in frolic play
Among the tufts of motling may
The young girls whisper things of love
And from the old dames hearing move
Oft making ‘love knotts’ in the shade
Of blue green oat or wheaten blade
And trying simple charms and spells
That rural superstition tells
They pull the little blossom threads
From out the knapweeds button heads
And put the husk wi many a smile
In their white bosoms for awhile
Who if they guess aright the swain
That loves sweet fancys trys to gain
Tis said that ere its lain an hour
Twill blossom wi a second flower
And from her white ******* hankerchief
Bloom as they ne’er had lost a leaf
When signs appear that token wet
As they are neath the bushes met
The girls are glad wi hopes of play
And harping of the holiday
A hugh blue bird will often swim
Along the wheat when skys grow dim
Wi clouds—slow as the gales of spring
In motion wi dark shadowd wing
Beneath the coming storm it sails
And lonly chirps the wheat hid quails
That came to live wi spring again
And start when summer browns the grain
They start the young girls joys afloat
Wi ‘wet my foot’ its yearly note
So fancy doth the sound explain
And proves it oft a sign of rain
About the moor ‘**** sheep and cow
The boy or old man wanders now
Hunting all day wi hopful pace
Each thick sown rushy thistly place
For plover eggs while oer them flye
The fearful birds wi teazing cry
Trying to lead their steps astray
And coying him another way
And be the weather chill or warm
Wi brown hats truckd beneath his arm
Holding each prize their search has won
They plod bare headed to the sun
Now dames oft bustle from their wheels
Wi childern scampering at their heels
To watch the bees that hang and swive
In clumps about each thronging hive
And flit and thicken in the light
While the old dame enjoys the sight
And raps the while their warming pans
A spell that superstition plans
To coax them in the garden bounds
As if they lovd the tinkling sounds
And oft one hears the dinning noise
Which dames believe each swarm decoys
Around each village day by day
Mingling in the warmth of may
Sweet scented herbs her skill contrives
To rub the bramble platted hives
Fennels thread leaves and crimpld balm
To scent the new house of the swarm
The thresher dull as winter days
And lost to all that spring displays
Still mid his barn dust forcd to stand
Swings his frail round wi weary hand
While oer his head shades thickly creep
And hides the blinking owl asleep
And bats in cobweb corners bred
Sharing till night their murky bed
The sunshine trickles on the floor
Thro every crevice of the door
And makes his barn where shadows dwell
As irksome as a prisoners cell
And as he seeks his daily meal
As schoolboys from their tasks will steal
ile often stands in fond delay
To see the daisy in his way
And wild weeds flowering on the wall
That will his childish sports recall
Of all the joys that came wi spring
The twirling top the marble ring
The gingling halfpence hussld up
At pitch and toss the eager stoop
To pick up heads, the smuggeld plays
Neath hovels upon sabbath days
When parson he is safe from view
And clerk sings amen in his pew
The sitting down when school was oer
Upon the threshold by his door
Picking from mallows sport to please
Each crumpld seed he calld a cheese
And hunting from the stackyard sod
The stinking hen banes belted pod
By youths vain fancys sweetly fed
Christning them his loaves of bread
He sees while rocking down the street
Wi weary hands and crimpling feet
Young childern at the self same games
And hears the self same simple names
Still floating on each happy tongue
Touchd wi the simple scene so strong
Tears almost start and many a sigh
Regrets the happiness gone bye
And in sweet natures holiday
His heart is sad while all is gay
How lovly now are lanes and balks
For toils and lovers sunday walks
The daisey and the buttercup
For which the laughing childern stoop
A hundred times throughout the day
In their rude ramping summer play
So thickly now the pasture crowds
In gold and silver sheeted clouds
As if the drops in april showers
Had woo’d the sun and swoond to flowers
The brook resumes its summer dresses
Purling neath grass and water cresses
And mint and flag leaf swording high
Their blooms to the unheeding eye
And taper bowbent hanging rushes
And horse tail childerns bottle brushes
And summer tracks about its brink
Is fresh again where cattle drink
And on its sunny bank the swain
Stretches his idle length again
Soon as the sun forgets the day
The moon looks down on the lovly may
And the little star his friend and guide
Travelling together side by side
And the seven stars and charleses wain
Hangs smiling oer green woods agen
The heaven rekindles all alive
Wi light the may bees round the hive
Swarm not so thick in mornings eye
As stars do in the evening skye
All all are nestling in their joys
The flowers and birds and pasture boys
The firetail, long a stranger, comes
To his last summer haunts and homes
To hollow tree and crevisd wall
And in the grass the rails odd call
That featherd spirit stops the swain
To listen to his note again
And school boy still in vain retraces
The secrets of his hiding places
In the black thorns crowded copse
Thro its varied turns and stops
The nightingale its ditty weaves
Hid in a multitude of leaves
The boy stops short to hear the strain
And ’sweet jug jug’ he mocks again
The yellow hammer builds its nest
By banks where sun beams earliest rest
That drys the dews from off the grass
Shading it from all that pass
Save the rude boy wi ferret gaze
That hunts thro evry secret maze
He finds its pencild eggs agen
All streakd wi lines as if a pen
By natures freakish hand was took
To scrawl them over like a book
And from these many mozzling marks
The school boy names them ‘writing larks’
*** barrels twit on bush and tree
Scarse bigger then a bumble bee
And in a white thorns leafy rest
It builds its curious pudding-nest
Wi hole beside as if a mouse
Had built the little barrel house
Toiling full many a lining feather
And bits of grey tree moss together
Amid the noisey rooky park
Beneath the firdales branches dark
The little golden crested wren
Hangs up his glowing nest agen
And sticks it to the furry leaves
As martins theirs beneath the eaves
The old hens leave the roost betimes
And oer the garden pailing climbs
To scrat the gardens fresh turnd soil
And if unwatchd his crops to spoil
Oft cackling from the prison yard
To peck about the houseclose sward
Catching at butterflys and things
Ere they have time to try their wings
The cattle feels the breath of may
And kick and toss their heads in play
The *** beneath his bags of sand
Oft jerks the string from leaders hand
And on the road will eager stoop
To pick the sprouting thistle up
Oft answering on his weary way
Some distant neighbours sobbing bray
Dining the ears of driving boy
As if he felt a fit of joy
Wi in its pinfold circle left
Of all its company bereft
Starvd stock no longer noising round
Lone in the nooks of foddering ground
Each skeleton of lingering stack
By winters tempests beaten black
Nodds upon props or bolt upright
Stands swarthy in the summer light
And oer the green grass seems to lower
Like stump of old time wasted tower
All that in winter lookd for hay
Spread from their batterd haunts away
To pick the grass or lye at lare
Beneath the mild hedge shadows there
Sweet month that gives a welcome call
To toil and nature and to all
Yet one day mid thy many joys
Is dead to all its sport and noise
Old may day where’s thy glorys gone
All fled and left thee every one
Thou comst to thy old haunts and homes
Unnoticd as a stranger comes
No flowers are pluckt to hail the now
Nor cotter seeks a single bough
The maids no more on thy sweet morn
Awake their thresholds to adorn
Wi dewey flowers—May locks new come
And princifeathers cluttering bloom
And blue bells from the woodland moss
And cowslip cucking ***** to toss
Above the garlands swinging hight
Hang in the soft eves sober light
These maid and child did yearly pull
By many a folded apron full
But all is past the merry song
Of maidens hurrying along
To crown at eve the earliest cow
Is gone and dead and silent now
The laugh raisd at the mocking thorn
Tyd to the cows tail last that morn
The kerchief at arms length displayd
Held up by pairs of swain and maid
While others bolted underneath
Bawling loud wi panting breath
‘Duck under water’ as they ran
Alls ended as they ne’er began
While the new thing that took thy place
Wears faded smiles upon its face
And where enclosure has its birth
It spreads a mildew oer her mirth
The herd no longer one by one
Goes plodding on her morning way
And garlands lost and sports nigh gone
Leaves her like thee a common day
Yet summer smiles upon thee still
Wi natures sweet unalterd will
And at thy births unworshipd hours
Fills her green lap wi swarms of flowers
To crown thee still as thou hast been
Of spring and summer months the queen
Anonymous Dec 2014
I watch the chatter of long time friends
The jealousy's blooming
It will never end
The thing that's always been there that refuses to let go
This ***** named jealousy is the only friend I know.
devine Aug 2018
the flowers were blooming
so were you
your eyes were glowing
so were mine

waving deserts
drank water from the river
danced through the grass
you led me closer
with just a single glance

the sweetest taste
strongest desire
i've never dreamed of
it whispered in chemical symbols
something i've never heard of

there was a lot to learn
but time wasn't at our side

i saw right through the eyes
fearful when wish to fight
despite it all
we continue on
fools in a glimpse of paradise
you saw right through the eyes
let go when wish to hold on

it was okay
while the petals covered
it was insane
to control the uncontrolled

but the flowers were still blooming
the scent of lights and waters
blue to green
i found myself longing for you
for summer
before it wilted away forever

before you
slipped away forever
Call Me By Your Name
ap Mar 2016
Love love love
Ours is like withered flowers
Because whenever I see my dark circles
Or freshly painted bruises spreading over my canvas
I see violets blooming //
Love love love
Ours is like licking flames
Because whenever I look into your eyes
Or feel the warmth of your touch leaving burn marks
I remember who painted me //
Love is not *love
at all
And I guess I'm beginning to see
That violet is your favorite color
And I am your masterpiece //
~a.p
Lefty , I can't imagine how he got his name
Always did things backwards . . . so . . . . .
I was not surprised when he up and went away

Never said why , when , or where he had to go
Now he is growing old where as they say
"Only God Knows"

What are clouds anyway ?
Water vapor in the sky ?
I think it is so much more

I think they are recycled tears
Of every broken heart that ever be
Falling to a desert below

My cactus flower
Blooming in the night
So none will see

She keeps her love close
Protected by her needles

I sit and watch her bloom
And before the sun has begun
I leave looking for lefty

And the reasons I quit
Are the excuses I choose

Between the desert and the sea
Where the cause will be
Clouds keep winking at me

The circle is broken into pieces
I speak in deserts of sand
Drown in seas of lingering waves of pain

And I have no clue where lefty went
Only remember a cactus flower blooming
Without the thorns between the two
A story of a crumbling circle of love and friends and on a journey to nowhere .
ATILA Feb 2019
Take a look at a flower that we adore
And observe this precious creation to the core.

Those tiny petals free themselves from the bud
And bend towards the ray of light
Workshipping sun to stay on sight
Though sunlight is absent at night.

Day by day this flower blooms
Revealing its beauty even in gloom
The production of honey sweet scent
Introduces us of its own patent
Attracting those diligent bees
Flirting with vibrant butterflies
To generously share its honey product
Cause life is all about giving without doubt!

A blooming flower; a genuine wonder
Asking us to thoroughly ponder
How significant its existence in nature
Teaching us not to stop hoping for the future
As this flower will not stop blooming
Until its growth has fully matured.
Has been obligated to write a shape poem that I never tried before. It took me almost two hours to write this simple poem, ISTG it is soooo hard :'( And I can't share the actual result/pic of my shape poem here ><
Kerli Tulva May 2015
The night-cold air embraces the soul
Drifting along, jumping over the imagination hole
Nothing seems reality. Where is the whole?

Stepping out into the bare world
Taking the melancholy along
Hovering around like an invisible bird.

Under the whopping sky
Standing in the middle of the universe
I rise my hands to pick a black rose
And let all the gleaming petals disperse.
blythe Jan 2015
Lovely cherry blossom tree,
I want to see you
Blooming with pink perfection;
Give me happiness
No other could bring.
20W :) I really want to go to Japan just to see cherry blossom trees :)
PoserPersona Jul 2018
Your hair stills heart's rhythmic meter
  For this I wish forever
Strands spun with goddess gossamer;
  softer than touch of mother

Your eyes dazzle with no glitter
  For this I stare o're yonder
Locking jewels with coins of others;
  Leaves throbbing chests emptier

Your form flows as gentle rivers
  For this I grudge past swimmers
Glory bequeathed to the winner;
  drown will the losing suitors

Your voice humbles angel choirs
  For this I listen eager
Songs molding seraphs from satyrs;
  in harmony with nature

Your being stirs wildfire
  For this I bear the pleasure
Ethereal flames dance together;
  fueled by spiritual tethers

You are my love light of summer
  For this I waded winter
Glowing 'bove, spring was made greener;
  blooming nascent desire
Viji Vishwanath Dec 2019
A view just before sunrise
Resembles like a sunset
But the difference is vast
As it is fills with a hope of rays

A view just before sunrise
Is well felt deep inside
When it starts to gleam
With its sun rays

A view just before sunrise
Is a blooming sun of rays
Which fill with bright lights
And make beautiful sights

A view just before sunrise
Is a view of hopes
Excited in full of vibes
With its vibrant colours

A view just before sunrise
Is a one more chance
Given to know the worth of lives
To live with full of senses

A view just before sunrise
Is to be grateful to God’s grace
To be a part of living miracles
Especially in this competitive eras

A view just before sunrise
Is enjoyed well when it rises
And when it rise to its bests
It seems as smiling at us

A view just before sunrise
Is a smiley face of sun
As of a blooming sunflower’s
With its joyful pleasures

A view just before sunrise
Is the waiting periods
To see the rising queen
Reflecting as golden eyes

A view just before sunrise
Is hope of new days
In its blessed paces
For every faces

A view just before sunrise
Helps to plan in advance
To utilise the opportunities
With its best ways

A view just before sunrise
May bless us to rise
With its immense cheers
So all can have its leisures

A view just before sunrise
Is the stipulated time frames
To harvest the best nuts
From the life’s tests

A view just before sunrise  
Is to raise yourselves
To shine as jewel stones
As a sun in yourselves

A view just before sunrise
Is to enjoy the glory of living vibes To make best diamond from coals
So that it lustre in darks

A view just before sunrise
In nutshell, is a glorious shine
As a diamond kept in caves
To brighten the path of ways
A view just before sunrise is a ray of hope with full of opportunities. Utilise your opportunities at its best. And make yourself as a shining sun to brighten the ways wherever you go.
Today this view before sunrise, bring lots of energy to write. Hope all can enjoy the depth.
Ella Ab Aug 2015
My skin is infused with rich melanin
Shining, glistening in the light
My lips are plump echoeing the song
Beautiful a capella, melody strong
The sweet honey stare of my eyes
Looking up at the heavens into the skies
My natural hair it never flows
A blooming flower it still grows
The span of my hips so wide
Up and down in confidence I stride
Because I am black.
I am beautiful.
This is a poem i did today
She can feel
The thought
Blooming within her
Flowering mind
That will never wilt,
Dew of life
On her
Crown of petals
Hiding the thorns
Within her soul,
She'll spill nectar
Hungry hummingbirds
Static watchers
Of this beauty,
Releasing sweet
Her aroma
Upon the breeze,
But careful you
Lest her truth be
She's a Venus flytrap
Ready to ensnare you,
Handle with care...
© okpoet
nosipho khanyile Jul 2018
our destination is the journey
edged with culture
curved with meticulous attention
infested with corruption
fumigated with potential
waiting to reveal itself to the world
taking time to perfect itself
because like fine wine
we don't age, we mature
into something so different
refreshing the norms
creating a new era of dimensions
a relentless spirit
perfectly flawed
oh blooming flower
a tree known by its fruits
a shackled continent
waiting for the chains of judgement
to break
freeing the truth
this is africa
Marian Jan 2013
Cicadas and katydids are calling
Breezes blow in from my open window
Roses are blooming and leaves are falling
The moon's rays hitting my lawn look like snow
Owls are singing from majestic trees
While sweet Bluebirds are sleeping in bushes
Night dances through the softly blowing breeze
And Midnight silently the world hushes
Dewdrops like jewels shine on roses sweet
And the stars twinkle all through the calm night
While the Fairies dance on enchanted feet
And the moon happily shines very bright
And I under my warm covers doth sleep
Until pretty morning brightly doth peep.

*~Marian~
Umi Apr 2018
Silicate, emotionless sedimentary,
Darling, it is cold, doesn't care wheter it breaks or if it is swept away in a stream, cut into small pieces by the sharp rush of flowing water,
While it may hold no emotions, it can be the bringer of hope, bliss, happiness, sadness but also spite and envy, or a simple fulfilment,
Look at the wedding-rings, their stones on top to embellish beauty such as the insurance to be with the other through thick and thin,
Some diamonds are rough, but they are stronger than stones, if that is enough, harder and almost unbreakable, sorted in line moliculary,
When the kiss of death puts us to rest, a tombstone is the sad, cruel remembrence of a former life, sprouting blossoming and blooming, before returning to the soil it once had found its origin, its beginning,
I will try to be your wishing one, your shooting star, racing through the glory of the starlit nightsky to catch a moment of your passion,
Burning up within the atmosphere of your warm embrace, dearest.
Drawn by your gravitational impact on me, I will be your comet, returning to you each day without burning away as rapid as a meteor.
Darling, alike a blazing Sun you make me melt.

~ Umi
I am sorry for these love poems, I can't help it sometimes <3
Ken Pepiton Aug 2018
Memes! Angels, aberrations of opposition super standing
overseeing you,

The screamin' heebie jeebies.

Yo, where you wanta go, you axin me we just go

with it, the flow 'know?

What I mean is, are we memes or mes or messes of yeses
gone all johnny rcome late-rotten scarred scared, some thing not so far
from sacred when you put your mind to the whole idea of life being

at all. Thinking this is not easy. We are Able. Our belly's living waters cry out,

you are your brother's keeper, yes, you are.

Be leavin' that be, I am is, and you is,
too. When you apprehend the meme named
war.
That meme has led the me-me mob for as far as men
remember, but
now, machines remember for us, all the facts, just
the facts, ma'am.

Why'd the d go into a comma, Pop?

Welt (Duetch, bitte) Enshaung, glaube ich, vie leicht, aber

are we ever going to filter out these German bleed-overs?
stay tuned, next week the meme beacon is pulled down,

who shall pre or post or ex maybe vail, travail, like
trip
wow, I hate being a 20 year old vet back in the U.S. of A.
FTA All the way, Airborne

*******, Herman Hesse *******
Jorney to and fro the east to west, and soon, et
cetera. Siam is a mere myth now, eh?

As the Narnia thing not called a heathen lie was allowed
allowable in mere Christianity.

I've only seen the English POV's on PBS, they may be filtered through
feedback, meme belching bursting bubbles from new wine 'nold vessels about to plode into eternity, singing along.

Thank you, very much. May I introduce, duce, intro duce, y'gittin this?

Duce means 2 if you see e squeen between, you see that?

Fun. No reason for fun? Who here, now, believes that or, no,
bees leavin' those lies be told?

Hunh? Y'know? Watch man, waht of the night?

See, what I mean? All this from me hearin' some guy say,
"Come and see, like that was  okeh. For any body, n'me, too.

Thinking, as a past-time, is pointless. You know, if you act like it.
Reading Howard Bloom's (Audiobook) for about the fourth time this week, while continuing the Radioman Chronicles pre-see-quel dilemea. I think epic poetry is seducing me.
Joan Karcher Nov 2012
blushing hues
preserving precious nutrition
the sun is moving closer
releasing fingers that once reached high
tumbling to the ground
drying out, and crinkling
the sun is turning its face
allowing the next phase to begin

insignificant
like tiny ants crowding the cracks
minuscule
like the creeper ******* nutrients
one "being" on earth
one earth, in the middle of "space"


ancient methuselah,
your mycelium branching-
entwining, and communicating
giving strength to brethren
as hibernation takes hold
birthing fungi anew

*orange, browns, yellows and reds
i give my breath away
*

Methuselah is a Great Basin Bristlecone Pine (Pinus longaeva) tree,  
Its age of around 4844–4845 years makes it the world's oldest known living non-clonal organism
shåi Jul 2014
you took me
to a lovely garden
long ago,
and told me i was beautiful

you kissed my hair
just as the sun rose
illuminating
the intensity of our lost love

every inch
every crevice of me
loved you
missed you.

you were my infinite stars
cast on the midnight terrain
you lit up the world
just for me

a sweet scent of lavender
permeated through the garden
you said
it was the thousands of lilacs
blooming for me

you kissed my hair
leaving behind
a sweet scent
to caress me

(b.d.s.)
thanks for 1k views on reflection! i love you all and i love suggestions! :)
Jack Jul 2014
~

Happy Birthday Wishes Sye


Sye, a few of your friends wanted to send you happy wishes on this
your 17th birthday. I hope you enjoy this.  

~~~

Happy Birthday Sweet Niece!
Sye, you are beyond amazing in your talents for writing, your beauty of soul and your caring and compassion. What a gift to our community on HP and the entire Universe that you are here! I am so very glad I met you!!! I hope this birthday and the year ahead are the best ever for you!
With much love,
Aunt Pamela

~~~

Seventeen, as cute as seven.
Funny as Hell, sweet as Heaven.
It's not hard to grasp just why
We love you so deeply, Sye.

Birthday hugs from Norway!
-Sverre

~~~

Sweet Seventeen, a year so Sweet to bring Your Dreams into the World, Live them Proud and True, just for You!!
I Wish You a Very Happy Birthday Sye!
~ Venusoul7~

~~~

Happy Birthday "Daughter"
You are a Blessing who touches each life you enter,(as you have mine)
My wish for you this day, is that the Love and Happiness return to you ten-fold.
Happy B-Day Sweetheart! Paula

~~~

Hippy buffday to you!
Wishing you blessings anew
May your days be
Full of sunshine and laughter
And joyful songs too ***
Petal Pie

~~~

Happy Birthday Sye

A day of Celebration
of contemplation
The last remains of a year
The dawn of the new

A dawn...
Filled with wonder
With beauty
An adventure

Bask in the sunshine
Embrace the rain
From pain
Do you grow

My wish for you...

Live life
Open hearted

Your flower is blooming
Revealing the beauty
Within your heart and soul

Kelly Rose

~~~

17 candles a top the fruit cake
Your friends and family
Nigh to celebrate this great milestone
Wine glasses raised~
In honor of you
God has added yet another year
May your life be filled with so much joy~
And good health be your portion always
Happy birthday Sye…

Cassie

~~~

May Sye have a wonderful birthday as wonderful as her poetry.
Briar Thornit

---

Hello young Sye on the occasion of your birthday. You are a young lady who has so much still to offer the world of poetry and you can only get better

Keep on writing Sye

Old man Joe

~~~

Happy Birthday Sye

Young at heart, a mind for words
may you have a day of joy,
With many happy returns,
have fun let it all go its your day
so do what ever is your fancy
Have well remembered birthday fun :)

Poetic T :)

~~~

Only friends for a while
yet I know you're so kind
with that beautiful smile
you'll never be left behind

This wee bonnie lass
has a birthday today
such a kind and sweet soul
in our hearts she'll forever remain

Have a fantastic day Sye **

Louise

~~~

Tae Sye

Wi' a' the monie ways tae say,
I find I lack skill;
Tae ye, wi' a' me greetings lay,
Pray, o't, tak yowre fill!

Och, sic a bonnie lass as ye,
My hearty blessin';
Sae monie mowre ye Birthdays be,
Wi' a' the dressin'!

'Tis a sma' thing tae say,
Happy, Happy, Birthday!

'Tis a' for thee
Dear S. Y. E.

~Timothy~

~~~

Princess Sye you are amazing:) I have came to learn so much by you, and you have been a wonderful friend to me:) I hope this birthday finds you well:) Miles of smiles and much love always:)

Jonathan E Furches

~~~

betterdays 2 days ago
hello sye
my understanding is it is your17th birthday ....in honour of that and your amorevolous nature
i give you, these word gifts.
two quotes:
"blessed are the curious,
for they shall have
adventures"
Lovelle Drachman.
and
"For beautiful eyes, look for the good in others; for beautiful lips, speak only words of kindness; and for poise, walk with the knowledge that you are never alone"
attributed to,
Audrey Hepburn
but really Sam Lenvenson.
and
my best wishes for a, eellogofusciouhipopp-okunurious (good)
day
hugs and kisses
betterdays
p.s.amorevolous- loving and giving beyond self, nature.

~~~~

Dear Sye,

Uh - 17. Young enough to be stupidly foolish and wise enough not to realize it. Your writing has touched many, including me. Thanks for sharing your inner self. Happiest of Birthdays to you Miss Sye. Wishes for many happy returns of the Day.
Your friend in poetry, Kim

~~~


"I look at you and see so much promise
so full of life and always ready to help
although I have not known you much
I can see your beautiful soul through your words.
You turn 17 today and my wish for you is simple,
I hope you have enough courage to stand your ground,
to write what's true to you and do all that you love,
that you follow your dreams and
be the beautiful woman you were meant to be.

Happy Birthday, Sye :)
- H.U."

~~~

Sye as in sigh but also the world, from Korea to marine flag languages and morse code like this ...-.--.
I saw your name as a barcode while shopping for words,
these are what I bought: Happy Birthday to you Sye the World.

Regis Keuren

~~~

Sweet sixteen plus one
Oh what fun
The Sye flower will blossom
More and more so awesome.
She is loved by many here
Who find her so Dear.
Happy Birthday Dear Sye
Now you may cry.

Grandpa john

~~~

Happy birthday to my beautiful little sis! I wish you the most spectacular of days and the best of years. You deserve all the happiness and love, life has to offer!

You have been such a great friend and are always so kind and supportive. You amaze me with your wisdom and talent, sweet one. I am in awe of you, gorgeous! I feel so blessed to have met you!

Syeshine

The radiance
Beaming from
Your golden heart
Eclipses the sun
Sending light
And love
To all who bask
In the warmth
Of your sweet
Friendship...

Love you Sye!

Your adoring sis,
Kalypso

~~~

Thank you Sye for your excellent poetry as it's a gift to us all. Best of wishes on your birthday; you deserve all of the attention you get and, thanks to Jacks rally of poets, this attention can get to you. With pleasure, I salute thee -

Peter Watkins

~~~

Happy Birthday Sye! You are going to go so far in this world sweetie! Have an amazing day my friend! Continue to write amazing poetry.
Peace and Love
Margaret

~~~

Birthday wishes sent to you in hope that all your dreams come true x

Calpurnia Mockingbird

~~~

Oh, my Sye, my sweet, sweet, Sye
Wonderful sister and dear poet of mine
Words emerge from your stunning mind
And paint visions for all to read
But today is not about what you create
It's what God created 17 years ago
A wonderful person and talented friend
My non-blood sister to the end
Happy birthday my dear sister
Today is dedicated solely for you
Live it up and enjoy the wonders of life
And make sure to get some cake too!

Madalyn Beck

~~~

And now it is my turn. To my sweetest friend on your special day…
As you look above and see all of these people, your friends and family
from Hellopoetry sending you love and beautiful birthday wishes,
I want you to know that you are my best friend in the entire world
and I wish you all that makes you smile, every happiness and joy
this coming year and those to follow have to offer.

Happy Birthday sweet Sye.

Your smile lights the world,

Jack
Thank you to everyone who participated in this with me. I appreciate your kindness more than you know.
Umi May 2018
A single dandelion seed could turn a desert into a beautiful garden, all it needs is someone to love it and look after it ~
Because the love of light is for all to bear, it is embracing, warm and gentle, life grows out of it to rejoice it's wonderful unique touch.
Seeing the desert one should note, that light can be cruel and harsh, scorching in heat while only trying to do what's right,
Leaving behind an almost lifeless part, it becomes the kiss of death,
In the end you get lost, blinded the luminousity which was once a gift
And by the night when it covers, you lost all fear of darkness,
It already became part of what you were anyway, you didn't belong,
Without turning your back you simply let the darkness consume you,
Yet don't you see, that the nights somber appearance holds the glory of crystal starlight; a river of countless of them form the milky way,
Perhaps you are but a blossoming flower, only blooming to the kindled brightness of tonights moon, dim, yet also filled with awe,
The love of light is for all to bear, but don't overdose yourself with it,
Otherwise, it will burn you up before it leaves you rotting.

~ Umi
I decided that I will stop writing poems once I get to 161, I hope no one will miss me

— The End —