Quotes about vista, page 7
Paradise
Slipped into sleep.Mind got into whirls.
What a fantastic place mine was!
River Varaha from the western hills
Into my village bifurcating north and south!
Mango orchards, coconut groves, crossed streets with
Two water-falls, two hillocks and my school
All in order on one bank, very chill.
A big tank sorrounded with paddy fields
Green swarded with dayfull iciness
On the other bank along with big temples
Civil court, elementary school, post-office,
Cinema theatres, hospital, and 'agraharam'houses.
In my vista are the cows back home
After grazing over a grassy roam.
'Aadu paalam'(dancing bridge) is shakily strong.
'Pudhu paalam'(new bridge) widens very strong.
Ah, my music master with his syllables
'SaRiGaMaPaDhaNi'..'hey, hey! 'I'm nudged
To answer Paradise, Paradise, Paradise!
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Lines on Woodstock
We fancy the lustre of the old town is reflected
on the new. English Woodstock was a royal residence.
English Woodstock had a Palace
Where the Queen in jealous malice
Slew romance's fairest flower,
Fair Rosamond, in secret bower,
Our Woodstock, pleasant county town-
(This brings it both wealth and renown)-
To your strong castle some are sent
For to give them leisure to repent,
And the Reeves will, in their bounty,
Build court house worthy of the county.
A charming vista you do view,
Gazing on each street and Avenue,
Mansions and lawns embowered 'mong trees
Where wealthy owners live at ease ;
And through the air there sweetly floats
Harmonious Woodstock organ notes,
And men employment secure
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poem by James McIntyre
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Survivor
for Eric Hauptly
It's getting better and there's no denying
The bullshit I put up with and her lies
Are slowly diminishing and dying -
And I'm glad to know that I survived.
Some people are a bitter pill to swallow
When you begin to trust them with your love,
Only to find their affections hollow
And that your love is never good enough.
But they will reap one day what they have sown -
As they get tangled in their web of lies
Until they find that they are all alone
Because it's trust that makes true love alive.
Self-love and self-respect are cultivated
By recognizing love is not abuse,
That love is not about tolerating
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poem by Alexander Shaumyan
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Crisalidas
Cuando enferma la niña todavía
salió cierta mañana
y recorrió, con inseguro paso
la vecina montaña,
trajo, entre un ramo de silvestres flores
oculta una crisálida,
que en su aposento colocó, muy cerca
de la camita blanca...
Unos días después, en el momento
en que ella expiraba,
y todos la veían, con los ojos
nublados por las lágrimas,
en el instante en que murió, sentimos
leve rumor de älas
y vimos escapar, tender al vuelo
por la antigua ventana
que da sobre el jardín, una pequeña
mariposa dorada...
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poem by Jose Asuncion Silva
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Apparition of a Butterfly
Upon a fuzzy vista – vision blurred –
I tried to focus; nothing ever solid
Came to view, but undeterred, I blinked
An eye to try again. Through the mist
A coloured hue; polychromatic flames
Had flickered at a whim; a rhythm bore
A thrumming too: a naturalistic hymn.
Behold! Were I to find a synonym to
Reproduce or recreate
The apparition of a butterfly,
Evolving through the waning vapour,
Drawing on a sigh from this romantic.
Glory be! The raging sun above
Had fired his furnace, flaming off
The hangers on. Now I saw the flare:
His time has come. He spread a tortoiseshell –
A scene of Mother Nature at her best.
I lay in peace in knowing I was blessed.
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Moments
Moments that give life a lift
Come with such simple surprise, as if a gift,
Offering life more meaning and alure
With some fine spice and sweet ardor.
Like sharing a drink with an old friend
Or lazily sleeping in,
Holding your child for the first time
Thanking God for the ties that bind,
Watching that favorite old movie in black-n-white
A cool breeze on a hot summer night,
Out West on a relaxing and beautiful hike
Lingering long in the vista of such magnificent sights...
These moments of life
That, at least for a while, make everything seem alright;
Life's simple pursuits
Are indeed the freshest fruits.
However; midnight or noon,
The end of each comes far too soon.
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poem by Smoky Hoss
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A Glimpse Of Pan
I caught but a glimpse of him. Summer was here.
And I strayed from the town and its dust and heat.
And walked in a wood, while the noon was near,
Where the shadows were cool, and the atmosphere
Was misty with fragrances stirred by my feet
From surges of blossoms that billowed sheer
Of the grasses, green and sweet.
And I peered through a vista of leaning tree,
Tressed with long tangles of vines that swept
To the face of a river, that answered these
With vines in the wave like the vines in the breeze,
Till the yearning lips of the ripples crept
And kissed them, with quavering ecstasies,
And wistfully laughed and wept
And there, like a dream in swoon, I swear
I saw Pan lying--, his limbs in the dew
And the shade, and his face in the dazzle and glare
Of the glad sunshine; while everywhere,
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poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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Es Tu Sonrisa Rita
Mujer, déjame que te desmitificar,
Así puedo entender
Por qué te quiero
Tanto.
Déjame buscar:
Los ángulos, los jardines,
Las curvas y las flores,
Así puedo comprender
Por qué cada segundo
Que tu imaginen echa en mi memoria,
La fórmula química cambia en mi cuerpo.
Date la vuelta,
Estás sana y salva.
Deja que te examine de pies a cabeza:
Toque tu nariz,
Cubre tus mejillas,
Hace algunos trucos,
Trata de fingir,
Caminar, correr, parar y sentarse.
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poem by Hebert Logerie
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The Old Tune
THIRTY-SIXTH VARIATION
THIS shred of song you bid me bring
Is snatched from fancy's embers;
Ah, when the lips forget to sing,
The faithful heart remembers!
Too swift the wings of envious Time
To wait for dallying phrases,
Or woven strands of labored rhyme
To thread their cunning mazes.
A word, a sigh, and lo, how plain
Its magic breath discloses
Our life's long vista through a lane
Of threescore summers' roses!
One language years alone can teach
Its roots are young affections
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poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes
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Beautiful One
Oh beautiful one, adorned with spell
To ravage my world as might a sweet angel.
Oh beautiful thing, so much at ease:
Allure of caressing breeze in touch gentle.
Oh beautiful creature, sail me do,
As floating on seas of halcyon blue tincture.
You beautiful being, gracing charm
And features that render feel of deep texture.
Your beautiful poise in glide supreme,
Gives such like a vista honed as from heaven.
That beautiful art of face ornate,
Not ever to understate or be riven.
Your beautiful flame of pulchritude
Doth dizzy me high, so I conclude always
You beautiful girl forever be
My shining Janette; my guide; my stairway.
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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