Home

Sponsored Links
Poetry Home

Song

Added on:5/4/2008 | In Flowers

Oh! To be a flower
Nodding in the sun,
Bending, then upspringing
As the breezes run;
Holding up
A scentbrimmed cup,
Full of summer's fragrance to the summer sun.

Oh! To be a butterfly
Still, upon a flower,
Winking with its painted wings,
Happy in the hour.
Blossoms hold
Mines of gold
Deep within the farthest heart of each chaliced flower.

Oh! To be a cloud
Blowing through the blue,
Shadowing the mountains,
Rushing loudly through
Valleys deep
Where torrents keep
Always their plunging thunder and their misty arch of blue.

Oh! To be a wave
Splintering on the sand,
Drawing back, but leaving
Lingeringly the land.
Rainbow light
Flashes bright
Telling tales of coral caves half hid in yellow sand.

Soon they die, the flowers;
Insects live a day;
Clouds dissolve in showers;
Only waves at play
Last forever.
Shall endeavor
Make a sea of purpose mightier than we dream today?.

Recently Added

  • Thoughts

    Thoughts

     

    Once I was thinking re power of thoughts

    It took me deep into the ocean of thoughts

    To my enjoyment you know! What it brought?

    It turn me into heavenly space shuttle to start!

     

    My journey went on to ocean of thoughts!

    It amazed me and what a novel place it was!

    No where on earth it is, it will be, and it was!

    Everything was so disciplined than I thought!

     

    No makeover and pretension to be seen

    You meet and you see everyone is clean

    What a colorful place than I thought!

    It is me, my thoughts and it onslaught!

     

    If we apply, will open up spiritual lights

    And will lead us to new places to delight

    There are thousands of new world in space

    More beautiful than our earth to compare!

     

    We can reach there with power of thoughts

    Only courage of our wisdom needs to apply!

    Surprise now-a-days our thoughts are so dry

    Even it is within reach of you and me to try!


    In Life And Leisure - 31 days ago
  • Hail Storm
    The last time my mother visited Cuba
    she found a car and driver to take her
    to the province of Las Villas, seven
    hours from Havana, and on the way
    it started to rain, and the driver, a young
    man kept telling her to relax, that this
    was the way it always rained in Cuba
    this time of year, and she kept telling
    him she wasnt a tourist, that shed been
    born here, and the driver drove on
    in the wolf-mouth-dark of the road,
    insects and sleet rain crossing the head
    lights, and my mother couldnt relax,
    and when it started to hail, fists pounding
    on the hood of the automobile, she
    panicked, prayed to the point she spooked
    the young driver into stopping by
    the side of the road, if only until the hail
    storm stopped, of only until her heart
    settled and she began to recognize
    that what was pounding the car wasnt
    ice balls, but her memories falling back,
    her life welcoming her where she belongs.

    In Weather - 80 days ago
Sponsored Links

Tools
Bookmark/Discuss