Tuesday, September 25, 2007

What are they called?

I wish I could know what these flowers are called? Here's their story.. When I started recognizing things around me , including plants, these were the first flowers I got to know.. Baba used to get me one everyday.. & up until now, he gets me one every now & then.. The last time he got me one, was when I came back home & found it on my pillow.. I cried like a baby.. But here's a secret>> I kinda don't like touching them, from their tips! They have a
(picture's source)
lotta hair like leaves that scare me! AND I LOVE THEM!! AIN'T THAT WEIRD?! I used to get scared of all plants.. Like scared of touching them.. Until now, walking on grass irritates me a lot!! I always try avoiding that.. All I know is that, I'm crazy about flowers (both seeing & holding them).. Some one once said that it's haram gifting them!! Don't know the authenticity of that? I love plants.. Love their silence, delicacy & beauty.. Love the fact that they are LIVING! I wish I could find out what baba's flowers are called.. They smell goooooood :)


There is a flower that bees prefer,
And butterflies desire;
To gain the purple democrat
The humming-birds aspire.

And whatsoever insect pass,
A honey bears away

Proportioned to his several dearth
And her capacity.

Her face is rounder than the moon,

And ruddier than the gown
Of orchis in the pasture,

Or rhododendron worn.

She doth not wait for June;

Before the world is green
Her sturdy little countenance
Against the wind is seen,


Contending with the grass,

Near kinsman to herself,
For privilege of sod and sun,
Sweet litigants for life.

And when the hills are full,

And newer fashions blow,
Doth not retract a single spice
For pang of jealousy.

Her public is the noon,
Her providence the sun,

Her progress by the bee proclaimed
In sovereign, swerveless tune.

The bravest of the host,

Surrendering the last,
Nor even of defeat aware

When cancelled by the frost.
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Wish I could always be daddy's li'l girl & never grow older.. And never see him get weaker.. I want him as strong as always.. Want him always standing tall & grabbing me by the hand & teaching me how the world revolves.. But wishes are only wishes.. And the world is only worldly world.. And the tide is always strong, whether high or low.. The more you live, the more gravity pulls down your features.. The more you stand, the more you slant..



I reason, earth is short,
And anguish absolute.
And many hurt;
But what of that?

I reason, we could die:
The best vitality

Cannot excel decay;
But what of that?

I reason that in heaven

Somehow, it will be even,
Some new equation given;

But what of that?
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I love you baba.. I love you more than me.. And if I spend my whole life saying thank you, it wouldn't even count! Thank you for being you.. Thank you for being you!!
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PS One of my dreams is to have a flowers shop, that only sells this flower.. And work in it with daddy :) That's one of my dreams..

4 comments:

LuLu...! said...

the name Emily Dickinson does it remind u of somethin sis???!!

sara said...

kinda reminds me of literature classes I used to teach to some real smart li'l girl..

It's just her name.. Umm not sure.. was it zuzu? zu ya rayal? umm, dihkit erroman? or lolita?

Wherever that girl is, hope she remembers my hard efforts & "shelly lelhamm".. And hope she prays for me..

LuLu...! said...

hhhhhhhhhhh.....
mmmm....!
oooooooooooooooooo...! "LITERATURE CLASS"ESS"" HAHHAHAHAHHAHAHA...!
thoooo ya rayaaal..! hehehhe..!

sara said...

hehehehheeee ;)