If i could only be a butterfly
I would stay up all night
I would haunt your house
And in your bed
While you're asleep
I'd whisper in your ear
I love you
If i could only be a butterfly
I'd never reach the ground
I could see the fireflies
And in your bed
While you're asleep
I'd whisper in your ear
I wanna take you once
I'll take you twice
have only come to see you shine
I want to undress your mind
There's room for us both to fly
Just let me undress your mind
If I could only be a butterfly
I would love all night
I'd colour your skies
And in your bed
While you're asleep
I'd whisper in your ear
You've left a bunch of stars
In my hand
by Erik De Neef
- 20/08/2017"The Worship of Nature"
The harp at Nature's advent strung
Has never ceased to play;
The song the stars of morning sung
Has never died away.
And prayer is made, and praise is given,
By all things near and far;
The ocean looketh up to heaven,
And mirrors every star.
Its waves are kneeling on the strand,
As kneels the human knee,
Their white locks bowing to the sand,
The priesthood of the sea!
They pour their glittering treasures forth,
Their gifts of pearl they bring,
And all the listening hills of earth
Take up the song they sing.
The green earth sends its incense up
From many a mountain shrine;
From folded leaf and dewy cup
She pours her sacred wine.
The mists above the morning rills
Rise white as wings of prayer;
The altar-curtains of the hills
Are sunset's purple air.
The winds with hymns of praise are loud,
Or low with sobs of pain, --
The thunder-organ of the cloud,
The dropping tears of rain.
With drooping head and branches crossed
The twilight forest grieves,
Or speaks with tongues of Pentecost
From all its sunlit leaves.
The blue sky is the temple's arch,
Its transept earth and air,
The music of its starry march
The chorus of a prayer.
So Nature keeps the reverent frame
With which her years began,
And all her signs and voices shame
The prayerless heart of man.
by John Greenleaf Whittier
- 18/08/2017That Music Always Round Me
THAT music always round me, unceasing, unbeginning--yet long untaught
I did not hear;
But now the chorus I hear, and am elated;
A tenor, strong, ascending, with power and health, with glad notes of
day-break I hear,
A soprano, at intervals, sailing buoyantly over the tops of immense
A transparent bass, shuddering lusciously under and through the
The triumphant tutti--the funeral wailings, with sweet flutes and
violins--all these I fill myself with;
I hear not the volumes of sound merely--I am moved by the exquisite
I listen to the different voices winding in and out, striving,
contending with fiery vehemence to excel each other in emotion;
I do not think the performers know themselves--but now I think I
begin to know them.
by Walt Whitman
Comments18/08/2017 #11 Liesbeth Leysen, MSc. International Management, Certified Executive Coach. Brand Ambassador beBee, Inc.I am sorry to read about Sara's mom. I wish her and her family so much strength.18/08/2017 #7 Lisa 🐝 Gallagher#6 Oh, I'm so sorry Sara lost her mom. My heart goes out to her. As one woman told me long before my mom passed and not long after her mom passed, you feel like a child again, longing for your 'mommy.' She was 61 years old when she told me that and not a person who shared emotion easily. My deepest condolences to Sara.18/08/2017 #5 Lisa 🐝 Gallagher#4 oh my.... I don't know who it it but my condolences. Loss is so very hard. It's strange, I rarely tag people.. maybe this was meant to be that I tagged you? I can understand why this was hard for you to read. Sending you good thoughts Ali, it sounds like this affected you... that ripple effect.18/08/2017 #4 Ali 🐝 Anani, Brand Ambassador @beBeeThank you dear @Lisa 🐝 Gallagher. A minute before reading this buzz. a distinguished friend of ours lost her mother last night. So, reading this "The triumphant tutti--the funeral wailings, with sweet flutes" has a sound effect on me. This is a superb, but a sad one for me and you understand why..Thank you @Moi Kliniger for selecting this wonderful sharing.
I don't know if I have the permission to disclose the name of grieved friend and you shall notice her absence for few days
- 18/08/2017Sonnet 116
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove.
O no, it is an ever-fixèd mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wand'ring bark,
Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.
Love’s not time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle’s compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
by William Shakespeare
Comments18/08/2017 #1 Dave WorthenI've read some William Shakespeare, but have never seen this. How in the world have I not seen this before?! Thanks for posting this, @Moi Kliniger Just when you think that the writings about love have become lost in a sea of sameness, William comes through. And he knew it well for when he walked the Earth. Brilliant.
- Producer17/08/2017O Sailor!O Sailor! It’s the way I want to beIt’s beyond the pale for meIt’s what being unknown is all about It’s the path I choose to takeIt’s the destiny I makeIt’s my life now – the only way out Out of circulation in another dimensionI carry you right...
- Producer17/08/2017A Celebration of SilenceSense Enchantment!A Celebration of SilenceIn the sensing of an ethereal presence.As it further blends into the dusk of misty blue.Let go and dare to loose your self in the magnetic enchantment....As the scent of the woody flowers work their magical...
- 17/08/2017Love's Coming
She had looked for his coming as warriors come,
With the clash of arms and the bugle's call;
But he came instead with a stealthy tread,
Which she did not hear at all.
She had thought how his armor would blaze in the sun,
As he rode like a prince to claim his bride:
In the sweet dim light of the falling night
She found him at her side.
She had dreamed how the gaze of his strange, bold eye
Would wake her heart to a sudden glow:
She found in his face the familiar grace
Of a friend she used to know.
She had dreamed how his coming would stir her soul,
As the ocean is stirred by the wild storm's strife:
He brought her the balm of a heavenly calm,
And a peace which crowned her life.
by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
- 16/08/2017The Beautiful Night
Now I leave this cottage lowly,
Where my love hath made her home,
And with silent footstep slowly
Through the darksome forest roam,
Luna breaks through oaks and bushes,
Zephyr hastes her steps to meet,
And the waving birch-tree blushes,
Scattering round her incense sweet.
Grateful are the cooling breezes
Of this beauteous summer night,
Here is felt the charm that pleases,
And that gives the soul delight.
Boundless is my joy; yet, Heaven,
Willingly I'd leave to thee
Thousand such nights, were one given
By my maiden loved to me!
by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
- Producer14/08/2017The Artist and the AntiChristTapping on the fallen limbs,They sit, their faces smeared.Fallen is the beast that swearsThe beast that aims to dye.Dyed in chrome, beginnings end.Her name is Kristen san.Blue she paints the crimson tears,In Spirit Green, the night.Tabernacle of...
- 14/08/2017Bees sip honey from flowers and hum their thanks when they leave.
The gaudy butterfly is sure that the flowers owe thanks to him.
~ Rabindranath Tagore
- 13/08/2017The Day Is Done
THE DAY is done and the darkness
Falls from the wings of Night
As a feather is wafted downward
From an eagle in his flight.
I see the lights of the village
Gleam through the rain and the mist
And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me
That my soul cannot resist:
A feeling of sadness and longing
That is not akin to pain
And resembles sorrow only
As the mist resembles the rain.
Come read to me some poem
Some simple and heartfelt lay
That shall soothe this restless feeling
And banish the thoughts of day.
Not from the grand old masters
Not from the bards sublime
Whose distant footsteps echo
Through the corridors of Time.
For like strains of martial music
Their mighty thoughts suggest
Life's endless toil and endeavor;
And to-night I long for rest.
Read from some humbler poet
Whose songs gushed from his heart
As showers from the clouds of summer
Or tears from the eyelids start;
Who through long days of labor
And nights devoid of ease
Still heard in his soul the music
Of wonderful melodies.
Such songs have power to quiet
The restless pulse of care
And come like the benediction
That follows after prayer.
Then read from the treasured volume
The poem of thy choice
And lend to the rhyme of the poet
The beauty of thy voice.
And the night shall be filled with music
And the cares that infest the day
Shall fold their tents like the Arabs
And as silently steal away.
~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
- Producer11/08/2017FALLACY WITH STORY!I have a story to say Long time ago there was a king in gay You must be eager to know What it would unfold in a row Have you thought the irrelevance of kingly stature? We already elevated to an advanced stage, discarding...
Comments12/08/2017 #13 Vincent 🐝 ManlapazThanks for sharing. This one paragraph gives a wide range of amplification - We do contain elements to write a new story. I just thought what's that element. Is that something naive or dormant, or it is just waiting to be awakened? I found the answer in the same context of this phrase- I have a story to tell. That element is you. Waiting for you to start telling your story. Break the unbreakable and that element will find its virtue. As the popular person in the Bible said, "search the scripture" for it will testify about who you are and what you're looking at and for. Great post.11/08/2017 #8 Liesbeth Leysen, MSc. International Management, Certified Executive Coach. Brand Ambassador beBee, Inc.let us make the world a better place11/08/2017 #7 Liesbeth Leysen, MSc. International Management, Certified Executive Coach. Brand Ambassador beBee, Inc.I prefer peace, so yes no war @Debasish Majumder, thank you for the reminder
- Producer12/08/2017What is this?my Hearthas shatteredon your shoreand I knowI knowI know,this visionis somethingmore.I can't goon here, whereI do not belong,yet the tideis turningand I willremain strong.It isno longermy song.Yours Ours Us We I...
- 10/08/2017'To A Butterfly'
STAY near me---do not take thy flight!
A little longer stay in sight!
Much converse do I find I thee,
Historian of my infancy !
Float near me; do not yet depart!
Dead times revive in thee:
Thou bring'st, gay creature as thou art!
A solemn image to my heart,
My father's family!
Oh! pleasant, pleasant were the days,
The time, when, in our childish plays,
My sister Emmeline and I
Together chased the butterfly!
A very hunter did I rush
Upon the prey:---with leaps and spring
I followed on from brake to bush;
But she, God love her, feared to brush
The dust from off its wings.
by William Wordsworth
Soft comes the hush of eventide
And songbirds hide
In limbs of budded trees
To bid farewell to setting sun
With lullabies they've sung
Each night for centuries.
A lark is winging swiftly home -
Black dot alone -
Beneath auroral clouds.
All nature makes a homeward rush
As twilight's rosy blush
The eyes of night arouse.
By Margaret Yacavace
- 08/08/2017When, in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes,
I all alone beweep my outcast state
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries
And look upon myself and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friends possess'd,
Desiring this man's art and that man's scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least;
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
Haply I think on thee, and then my state,
Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate;
For thy sweet love remember'd such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.
~ William Shakespeare
- Producer07/08/2017The Poet and the PunishedSalomei was the last human to live her life in perfect harmony, what the Jews call shalom, what the Chinese call the Dao, what the Hindi call saamanjasy or what you may call peace. Her purpose was to---Thought is interrupted by a caller. "Hello?"...
- 07/08/2017Long ago Apollo called to Aristæus,
youngest of the shepherds,
Saying, "I will make you keeper of my bees."
Golden were the hives, and golden was the honey;
golden, too, the music,
Where the honey-makers hummed among the trees.
~ Henry Van Dyke
Comments07/08/2017 #8 CityVP 🐝 Manjit#3 Yes, especially a poem that makes you think and is so well written. Of course Susan Sontag wrote against the perils of interpretation. Not where it advanced context but where it stifled meaning relevant to our age and time. See the PDF and part 4 of Sontag where she says
QUOTE START : "In a culture whose already classical dilemma is the hypertrophy of the intellect at the expense of energy and sensual capability, interpretation is the revenge of the intellect upon art. Even more. It is the revenge of the intellect upon the world. To
interpret is to impoverish, to deplete the world—in order to set up a shadow world of “meanings.” It is to turn the world into this world.(“This world”! As if there were any other.) The world, our world, is depleted, impoverished enough. Away with all duplicates of it, until we again experience more immediately what we have." : QUOTE END - SUSAN SONTAG
http://shifter-magazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/10/Sontag-Against-Interpretation.pdf07/08/2017 #1 CityVP 🐝 ManjitI think @Dean Owen is going to love this particular poem because even though the opening six lines is all about honey-makers, the rest of Henry Van Dyke's poem "White Bees" tells us the mistake Apollo made in calling Aristæus to manage his bees.
It turns out that not only did Aristæus loiter and not pay attention to the needs of the bees, he got sidetracked by a nymph called Eurydice and he followed her but the nymph trod on a serpent and she vanished.
By the time Aristæus came back to the bees under his care, they had all gone and here Henry Van Dyke writes
"Lonely Aristæus, sadly home returning, found his
All the hives deserted, all the music fled.
Mournfully bewailing, —“ah, my honey—makers,
where have you departed?” —
Far and wide he sought them, over sea and shore;
Foolish is the tale that says he ever found them,
brought them home in triumph,
Joys that once escape us fly for evermore."
Now Apollo did not let Aristæus remain a lost soul in a garden he did not belong and so writes Henry Van Dyke:
"Till the great Apollo, pitying his shepherd, loosed him from the burden
Of a dark, reluctant, backward—looking mind."
- 05/08/2017"White Lily Worries"
In the meadow one white lily
Stood patiently staring at me.
Her leftmost petal was chewed
By a beetle who sought fragrant food.
The lily asked me politely
If the marks diminished her beauty.
She said she wanted to be perfect
For her honeybee suitor insect.
She told me her honeybee,
Was gentle as could really be.
"He would never sting a man,
"He's been sweet as nectar since our love began."
She turned her leaves to the sun,
"I must eat before he comes,"
She said as she drank. "Still,
"He'll notice," remarked the daffodil.
Hush, I chided, he'll understand.
It's not her fault where the beetle chose to land
And take his meal. Not her fault it stole
He white purity and left these holes.
Honeybees will buzz no matter,
Seeking lily's honey to make them fatter.
The holes on your leftmost petal
Do not turn you from lily to nettle.
Comments06/08/2017 #4 Liesbeth Leysen, MSc. International Management, Certified Executive Coach. Brand Ambassador beBee, Inc.#2 thank you, you too, Moi!05/08/2017 #1 Liesbeth Leysen, MSc. International Management, Certified Executive Coach. Brand Ambassador beBee, Inc.sweet, thank you!
- Producer04/08/2017I Miss You, Little Sister I miss you, little sister, And though it's been a while, I still can hear your cheeky laugh, And see your winning smile. Looking through my photos, Of my many Yogya stays, You are in so many, Always cheerful. Happy days!Then I heard the news...
Comments05/08/2017 #10 Lisa 🐝 Gallagher@Ken Boddie, What a tear jerking moving poem. Such a beautiful tribute to your sister. I'm so sorry you lost her, how long has it been? I believe as you, their spirit of our loved ones does live on and if we are quiet enough, we may even feel their presence, if even in our hearts- no one can take that from us. I can't imagine how much you must miss your sister, deepest condolences.05/08/2017 #7 CityVP 🐝 ManjitThe greatest truth of those whose love has permeated our blood, bones and being is in "When our loved ones slip away, That their spirit still lives on"".
Ken Boddie you are blessed to have had a relationship like this that soaked through to your soul and the there is no price to that because we cannot call the deep grief and loss we feel that accompanies that, a price. It is called love and your poem tells me that you were blessed in sharing it.
The winning smile is within you now as you feel this great loss. Condolences to you and thank you for letting us all to share a piece of your heart. In this sharing I hope it comforts some of the great sorrow, for you deserve that, because I think little sis's poem would probably read "One heck of a great brother who shared a life with me that gave me my winning smile".
Your poem expresses a great love rapped with the sadness of losing someone whose time it should not have been, but sadly life deals us these blows. You have shared a great spirit with us all, and as her spirit now lives on within you, may it comfort this painful moment that you are experiencing, one we all recognize in kind, in the fullness of a poem that honours your little sis.
- 03/08/2017Dreams, books, are each a world; and books, we know,
Are a substantial world, both pure and good:
Round these, with tendrils strong as flesh and blood,
Our pastime and our happiness will grow.
~ William Wordsworth
- Producer01/08/2017Gerda and the Pirates.From my yet-to-be published children's book "Life As a Bean" Gerda had the pirates over for teaThere was Blackbeard, Bluebeard and Jean LafitteThey sat in the parlor, their hats on their kneesWhile Gerda made crumpets with jam and...
- 31/07/2017Yet mark'd I where the bolt of Cupid fell:
It fell upon a little western flower,
Before milk-white, now purple with love's wound,
And maidens call it love-in-idleness.
~ William Shakespeare
- Producer31/07/2017The Daffodils by Wordsworth. To be visible or not to be!I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, A host, of golden daffodils; Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. Continuous as the stars that shine And...
Comments01/08/2017 #12 Sara JacoboviciDear @🐝 Fatima G. Williams. I am grateful to your mention of me in one of your comments as it brought your buzz to my attention. I am also flattered by your generous words as I find your writing so inspiring and informative. A perfect combination for the right kind of learning. This buzz has provided me with much to take away. Thank you so much for writing and sharing.01/08/2017 #7 🐝 Fatima G. Williams#4 Thank you @David B. Grinberg for all your support on this beautiful beBee journey we all share. You inspire many of us personally and professionally. Want to go out there and shine like you are.
I can't wait to start on live buzzes from Dubai. Thanks for the push I'll get them out here soon for everyone to see the side of Dubai that I love alot. #beBeesforever01/08/2017 #5 Ali 🐝 Anani, Brand Ambassador @beBee"But becoming a visible or invisible cloud depends entirely on us".
You are a visible fractal cloud @🐝 Fatima G. Williams and your cloud rained wisdom, beauty, imagination and great thoughts.
You are a gifted poet for you fill your poem to the brim with your interesting and matured ideas.01/08/2017 #4 David B. GrinbergFatima, thanks so much for sharing yet another lovely piece of writing which is profound, thought-provoking, motivational and inspirational. What a lovely buzz from a lovely young lady (if you don't mind the compliment). I'm copying our dear friend, @Milos Djukic, per your reference to fractals.
Also, FYI, I watched some very interesting TV documentaries featuring stunning Dubai with its amazing attractions and super modern architecture. The show even highlighted a spiral shaped high-rise apartment tower which revolves on its own (for the views, I assume). Thus, if you ever have a chance to do a Live Buzz from Dubai that would really BEE awesome -- or any Live Buzz, for that matter, as I'm sure you are very articulate and telegenic behind the camera lens. Just something to consider. Thanks again for brightening our days with your poetic prose and beautiful blogging buzz!