Daffodils

Daffodils
The waves beside them danced, but they

....Out-did the sparkling waves in glee;

A poet could not but be gay,

...In such a jocund company:

I gazed--and gazed--but little thought

What wealth the show to me had brought:



For oft, when on my couch I lie

...In vacant or in pensive mood,

They flash upon that inward eye

...Which is the bliss of solitude;

And then my heart with pleasure fills,

And dances with the daffodils.
  

Jun, 18 2010     456 chars (3 sms)     3007 views       English Poetry

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Still I smile
And pretend to be carefree ,
But whats behind ?
Nobody ever tried to see .

Like a poison inside me
Still I wanna you to hold ,
Desperately I wanna breath
But my breaths have turned frozen and cold .

Through my body
Like blood you run ,
Now you are my night
And the only sun .

So don''t feel hurted
And never do leave my eyes ,
A bond of love
Ours relation is
Pain ! Pain ! Pain


so positive is your poetry !


Meena

Doesn''t really matter
My heart wont shatter
What if I am alone

------Clap !
Reflections of a Beautiful Morning

The sun rises above the hillcrest,
As does the joy of my heart;
Rays of warmth and love,
From her I will never depart.

Fresh dew upon the grass,
Young birds chirp in their nests;
I watch her gently sleep,
My love to her I silently profess.

I enjoy the stillness and calm,
Watching as she smiles and dreams;
She brings me to stillness and peace,
Like that of a slow flowing stream.

My heart and soul flow with love,
And I smile as I quietly reflect;
I’ve been handed a sweet princess,
A sweet princess to love and to protect.

A vow to myself I make,
As she quietly sleeps away;
To love and always cherish her,
Until my last breath... until my last day.
On occasion we wonder what our purpose in life is,

We don’t listen to our inner voice, ignoring his.

Something inside propels us to act,

Yet we often fail to recognize it and simply don’t react.

Perhaps we have known all along,

But we are too afraid that we could be wrong.

We must take a chance on our given talent,

Each and every one of us can be valiant.

If we veer off track,

Something inside will pull us back.

Maybe it could be we are being tested,

So when our individual purpose becomes clear, it is not ignored or rejected.
"October''s The Month
When The Smallest Breeze
Gives Us A Shower
Of Autumn Leaves.
Bonfires And Pumpkins,
Leaves Sailing Down -
October Is Red
And Golden And Brown."
- Can Teach Songs

"Listen! The Wind Is Rising,
And The Air Is Wild With Leaves,
We Have Had Our Summer Evenings,
Now For October Eves!"
- Humbert Wolfe
Because of you I chose exile,
I’ve been estranged from my tribe for some time.

I watered my flower with my tears,
Injustice! Don’t take me away from my flower.

There’s nothing wrong if a king wants a pauper,
If a pauper desires a king, he can’t help it.

My desire is too high; my luck is too low,
There is no cure for this pain but death.

What’s with the melancholic ascetic?
He argues with me about faith and religion.

The religion of the lover is the beloved.
I’m taking no path but my own.
Where do you run in such a hurry?
To the embracing arms of god,
Or to relish a feast, spread by the lord
Is there someone there to ferry?
To another bank of this mad river.

"Going Home", you say, and I stare
"What is home?", I''ve never known
"What do you do there?", I seek by my own
"It`s night!, I am going to sleep"
I died in laughter that day and my life long.

Slept, I have all this life, right here
On this solid ground, slept in peace.
No lack of mirth, in my hungry soul
No lack of bruises, on my lonely body
And, Slept I have in peace, right here.

"Why on the streets?", you demand to know
"Help yourselves", you seem to say
"Why, Where and How?", my eyes plead
Do you have the time to show me the way?
Poor Helpless soul, you simply walk away.
I Almost Gave In
I Almost Lost This Day
Almost Got To Me Into The Air
My Hands Tossed
Almost Walked Away
Almost Cried
Almost Threw Caution Into The Wind
Happiness For Myself I Almost Denied
Almost…
Then…
I Felt A Brush Of Love Againt My Face
Wings Wrapped Around Me In A Warm Embrace
I Heard A Whisper Into My Ear….
Dont Giveup, I’m Rite Here
O Bearer, bring the wine that brings joy
To increase generosity, & let perfection buoy
Give me some, for I have lost my heart
Both traits from me have kept apart
Bring the wine whose reflection in the cup
Signals to all the kings whose times are up
Give me wine, and with the reed-flute I will sing
When was Jamshid, and when Kavoos was king
Bring me the elixir whose grace and alchemy
Bestows treasures, from bonds of time sets free
Give me so they''ll open the doors once again
Of long life and the bliss that will remain
Bearer give the wine that the Holy Grail
Will make claims of sight in the Void and thus fail
Give me so that I, with the help of the Grail
All secrets, like Jamshid, themselves avail
Speak of the tale of the wheel of fate
I dive down the sea
To get u a pearl
Its enchanting beauty caught me
When it was lying inside its shell
I picked it up just for you
But when I saw the shell it was all
Alone
Its majestic ness was lost
Its beauty was caught
I got back to present it to you
But found there nobody waiting for me
I felt just the same as the shell
I lost my pearl n I was same
Nothing without u just nothing. . . . .
I roam by day, in search of shady trees
In between these huge palaces of stone
A shady place to sleep time and sun away
and then return to that old cold stone.
And to dream, looking at the mocking stars.

The sun slowly peeps at me, smiling
and I naughtily show my back to him
The world starts running around quickly
And tries to wake me up, but in vain
All I know and have, is my sleep galore.

These few lines, for those homeless friends, who sleep on the streets, these few lines, for our helplessness on seeing them. These few lines for their prayers and our reasons.
Who Is Here? Who Is There?

In the Garden, when the autumn wind blows,
In the bird’s voice there is wailing and lamentation.

In the lovesick nightingale’s song there is a call,
with a different effect, a different mark.

Still, the nightingale is yearning for the love of the flower.
Still, the salamander is nesting in the oven.

Still, Mansur is hanging on the gallows.
He says: “I’m the Truth,” yet the secret (truth) is hidden.

Still, Zulaykha is not afraid of rebuke.
Still, Yusuf is evading Zulaykha.

Still, the Christian maiden is breaching Sheikh San’an''s faith.
Still, the Sheikh is tending her swine.