Quotes about orchid, page 2
“O’Shea”
O’Shea was a big railway ganger, clean-hearted, and clean-limbed and shy,
With a glint of grey hair at his temples, and smile in his Irish blue eye;
He’d but one speech for every occasion, as you told him the news of the day,
And I know I will shock pious people-but poor Tim meant no harm when he’s say.
“Aw! g’long, go-to-hell, go-to-hell now! In a mildly expostulant way.
Oft the boys told, with winking and laughter, how O’Shea courted early in life
The dashing and voluble lady who’d make him an excellent wife;
And how slowly that courtship proceeded, till herself had to “settle the day”.
For Tim, though he madly adored her, could find nothing better to say
Than ‘Aw! G’long, go-to-hell go-to-hell now,” in a tender and loverlike way.
The flying gang loved and served him, for O’Shea was a leader of men,
But we never knew Tim for a hero, till the train smash at Appletree, when
The seven forty-five lay in ruins in a setting of scrub, ferns and flowers,
With the summer sky smiling above it, and the air fresh and fragrant from
showers.
There was tragedy, death and confusion, there was horror and grief beyond words,
Pain blent with the incense of blossoms, and groans with the song of the birds.
The flying gang came to the rescue, ah O’Shea was magnificent then,
[...] Read more
poem by Alice Guerin Crist
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Amazon Jungle After Alfred Tennyson The Brook
By mangrove swamps I idle round,
my canopy's world wonder,
leafcutter ants beneath the ground
where three toed sloths would wander.
Tall forest Tarzan never knew
from ground grows great, colossal.
My ecosystem filters through
sward broadleaf basin fossil.
I wind about, and in and out,
with here a silted delta,
an anaconda round about
observes the helter-skelter.
Pass here and there a native hut
pirogues moored to lianas,
with cataracts which canyons cut
mid mangroves and bananas.
[...] Read more
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Radio Orchid
Theres an old lady living in an old house
Since her husband died she hasnt been out
She lives in her own world with her own little nightmares
And she stopped counting the days
She buys a radio station with her husbands legacy
She does her own show ten hours a day
Plays poems and listens lets feelings run free
Helps people talk the pain away
So if your world falls down
Cant see the light of day
Call the lady call the station today
And listen
This is radio orchid listen and cry
To all the others that suffer and die
This is radio orchid listen and cry
Take your lonely heart and let it fly
Sending her message shes solving the problems
Of millions and millions but who solves hers?
The old lady gets older still lives in the old house
But when she dies well all live alone
song performed by Fury In The Slaughterhouse
Added by Lucian Velea
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LYRIC-LUTE [3] / by Dr. Mahendra Bhatnagar
[1] SING
Sing; so that life a lyric may become!
Man is helpless at each step,
Each silvery love-dream is shattered,
Sunken in sea of tears
The sun of hope is far, far away,
Sing, so that each particle a friend may become!
Surrounded on all sides is darkness dense
Hurt is each heart, full of pain,
Shall mute cover of troubles life-long
For ever remain thus overhead?
Sing, that defeat victory may become!
Breath is overcast with helplessness-suffocation,
Smoldering is life smarting-burning fed,
Full of poisonous dense-dust particles
Is sky of man’s wishes,
[...] Read more
poem by Mahendra Bhatnagar
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Orchid and Orange I
Tender orchid-leaves in spring
And cinnamon- blossoms bright in autumn
Are as self- contained as life is,
Which conforms them to the seasons.
Yet why will you think that a forest-hermit,
Allured by sweet winds and contented with beauty,
Would no more ask to-be transplanted
Than Would any other natural flower?
poem by Zhang Jiuling
Added by Dan Costinaş
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The butterfly
perfuming its wings
fans the orchid
haiku by Matsuo Basho, translated by Michael R. Burch
Added by Dan Costinaş
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The butterfly
The butterfly is perfuming
It's wings in the scent
Of the orchid.
poem by Matsuo Basho
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some of the blue blues
laughing on the orchid leaves
good morning April
haiku by Ashraful Musaddeq from Absent Zero and Other Haiku
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One of my favorite stories was Black Orchid, because it was so different from all the others. I especially enjoyed dancing the Charleston. I have always been keen on dancing.
quote by Sarah Sutton
Added by Lucian Velea
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I found an orchid in the valley fair,
I found an orchid in the valley fair,
And named it for us both,
And left it there.
Two flowers upon one stem, white-souled, alone.
I couldn't pull them up,
And bring them home.
poem by Lesbia Harford
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