By Nate Spears
Published 2013 In Death Of A Rose by Nate Spears
Rescue this sunflower
It's capable of being a ray of light
Nurture it, value it, and love it
Its petals are more delicate than they appear in sight
A wild flower it is; but it displays beauty
The facts of its species remain unknown
Its fight to reach its true potential is admired
It’ birth to existence is undetermined
It’s roots shows trauma
Its presentation brings hesitates to potential caregivers
No one's prepared to take a chance
This flower is destined to win
All earthly roots sprout from above
At some point in a life’s span; we could use a kiss or hug
He who refuses to display any element of the wild
Is merely real
An artificial representation of life
Stuck in Styrofoam surrounded by fake moss and dust
No breath, no soul, non-existence
A human being choked from an outer dimension.
Rescue this wild flower with love.
The day they fell
He stands before the great woods
Arms stretched, bracing the storm of machines
They roar and bark, trying to break his wall
But he stays put, Save the Forests he screams
The tress stand tall, lush and green
Seedlings sprout, Flowers bloom
Animals frolic in their wonderland
Is the forest really meeting it's doom?
He stands before the great woods
Protecting everything it confides
Many plants and animals are within
Away from the human eye they hide
Even if you have never seen them
Just take a step inside
The feeling of life the smell of grass
Do u really want them all to die?
The machines don't care
Around the forest they continue to surround
They have never seen the wind
And never heard the sounds
They never felt the wind against their faces
Never heard the rustling of leaves
Never seen the life in the forest
Never understood that it brings relief
Fire shoots up as the forest screams
Roars and crackles follow too
Animals run, plants sink to the floor
As the machine consumes the forests full
The trees spend decades growing up
The animals spend years moving in
But it only takes seconds to burn it down
To burn the forest into the size of a pin
What has the forest done he wonders
As He stands in front of the orange blaze
To deserve this kind of torturous pain
With Heat and sorrow right in his face
I saw a flower in your hand
It does not matter
which flower you held
either a rose or a cherry
because flower is flower
a sign of ever-love
You presented me a flower
It does not matter
how much it cost
because the cost of flower is love
and love only
A flower can stop a war
A flower can break
the domestic walls of a narrow mind
By Nate Spears
Published 2013 in “Death OF A Rose” By Nate Spears
A diminishing Rose Bush
With every pedal plucked, beauty is fading away
Losing its essence of greatness
As we proceed to deplete its history
Life flows away,
I remain standing above
Stems are bare and exposed
Vulnerable to the world and its nature
I give woes
I give worries
I give troubles
These are my possibilities
Then the death of a rose and destruction
Bare my green,
My DNA shows traces of the best soils
Traced back to my mother’s land
Surrounded by fellow planted gold
Some will never know
Doing well isn’t doing well
We can’t bloom unless we unfold
Reproduce the best again
Stop dying daily for less than a win
There’s nothing we can’t do
That we’ve done once again
The next season will bring new pedals
I will never grow pass go anymore
Next year, beauty will flourish
Next season remains to nourish
Each season we should cherished
In our best moments
Each year is the best one of your life.
Fields of flowers sway to the onslaught of the purest of pure winds
The fresh scent it gathers by brushing through the grass itself
The motions it creates a delicate change with every brush
It combs through the endless views of long slopes
The wind in fields are the purest of all it gathers life with in it
Pushing the way to the edge of the forest were it dies down
But I rather not say die because it still flows through
On top of the forest, above the rivers, and hills of old
Where the wind blows
We have come from every district
In the whole of our large state.
We hold a big convention,
Every year around this date.
We greet each other cheerfully,
I’ve been friends with some for years,
Then turn back to our creations as
Completion deadline nears.
We know what the judges hope to find,
They come from our own ranks.
They look for beauty and harmony.
Their only pay is thanks.
We’ve memorized the scale of points
On which entries will be judged.
Each judge knows the rules by heart
And will notice if we’ve fudged.
I stand back from my exhibit
And sincerely make a try
To see not as a mother views her child,
But with honest judge’s eye.
I carefully adjust another line
Before it is time to depart.
The judges are impatient for
Their judging rounds to start.
I wander to another room
Where judging is all done.
I find to my amazement that
My chamaecypais nookatensis has won.
It has taken the arboreal award.
That is a nice surprise.
But it is in the other room
Where result of my labor lies.
We try to cheer each other
As we stay to hear our fate.
The judging books are closing.
We will not have long to wait.
I spy from far across the way,
Red ribbon lying there.
My flower arrangement’s taken second,
Which to first cannot compare.
I hide my disappointment
And hold back a falling tear.
And vow to win the big one
In the Flower Show next year.
Won first with this
Who remembers, is it only me?
One emerald morning in the month of May
Spread upon a kitchen table
Paste made of flour, scissors, rainbow crayons
Pretty paper doilies and….
Mama letting little hands
Create surprises, of cone shaped fans…
The memory shrugs so many years away
Where innocence, was cut and shaped
Into bright-sprigged paper cones
Such sweet accomplishments, each our own
Then quickly running out the door
To pick spring beauties, one by one
Fresh Lillies of the Valley, wildwood fern,
Gathering them, heavy on their stems
Sweet and fresh as morning dew,
So filled with springtime, filled with bloom
Then paper cones were flower filled
Small bouquets of sweet perfume
Then down the dusty road we trudged
Side by side, with grins of pride
No greater pleasure as a child
The thought of bringing someone smiles
Timid knocking on a neighbor's door
Calling “Surprise...Surprise! Look what’s in store!”
Our little legs would run fast, down the road,
Behind a tree, where we would hide
And watch them find this flower prize
Must not....get caught.....must not get caught!
And we were taught
That bringing light to someone's eyes
Was worth a lot !!
Under Emerald May Day's vibrant skies
For Tracie's Contest: "Flowers or Stones"...."May"
A lonely flower
Quiet and sad
Swaying to the melancholy song of the wind
No other flower for company
Only tall grass hiding her from the outside world
One day brought a wandering bee
Saw the flower
And lost his heart
To her slender beauty
He tenderly sat on her soft petals
Caressing her center with his mouth
Overjoyed on being so close
To this delicate being
She—her emotions were in turmoil
It felt like heaven
When he caressed her
He danced from one petal to another
And she swayed in pleasure
The wind supplied the music
The sun came out to give warmth
The bee tenderly opened
The flower center
In he went and drank the sweet nectar
Which seemed to go on and on
Satisfied he came out
Saw the flower was pale
Slowly one by one
Her petals dropped
She bowed her slender head and died
There was a soft smile on her face
The satisfied smile
Of a full and happy life
He sadly looked on in silence
Swaying slowly with the melancholy wind.
...such joyful company. I put my coat on and
was about to leave while still seeing my nun friend there with me when my pastor handed
me a book to read. I declined even though I knew by now that if he gave me a book to
read , I was meant to read it. Period.
But right now, I had this nun I didn’t know how to deal
with and anyway I had not finished the last book he had given me so I thanked him and
I left and as I went out and started my rig, the vision began to fade. As I drove down the hill
away from the rectory, the last I saw of her was her face with her lower lip protruding in a
make believe pout. I stopped, turned around and went back to the rectory.I rang the bell and
when my good friend the pastor answered, I told him that I thought that nun wanted me to
read the book he attempted to give me. He reached over on the table, gave it to me and we
bade each other good night. It was too dark to read the title so when I got home into the
light, I saw the title…. “ The Story of a Soul” by Sister Therese of Lisieux, the Little Flower of
Jesus. She was a Carmalite nun who died in eighteen ninety seven at age twenty four who
was since canonized by the Catholic church.
I no longer can see her but know beyond a doubt she is with me and anyone else who
wants her to help bring them closer to Jesus.
This, as Holy God is my witness, is a true story, told the best way I know how. Thank you
Lord. And thank you our friend Therese,... the little flower of Jesus.
There she is the false image standing quietly
She is just standing looking at a beautiful flower
She notices her passion of earthy desire
Something is happening she burst into the sun
I look up as her hands grasp my face
Her sea blue eyes gazed at me
Her warm hand and then a bright light blinded me
I went down on my knees and cried
The salty water dropped on to the ground
I live by the ocean so deep
I do not know how to swim
By the thought of a beautiful look
That made me shake
With fear in my head I saw those Sea Blue Eyes
I cannot restrain myself she burst into the sun
What is going on is it just the feeling of being left behind
She was a desire and now I have none
Driving nuts and insane what will I do
Believing such a image is a dream
I walk on the sand by the ocean with flowers in my hand
Raising it to the sky and trying my best to lure her
The image came close
It pulled me into the ocean I was soaked
What a lonely human being I am
I grope the sky with such desire
I look pitiful and look anguished
What horrible feeling I have to pull the beauty that is nature down
The wind blew one day the image once more appeared
A young woman standing beside a flower with deep Sea Blue Eyes
Looked at me a glance of hope and happiness came
I reached for her and all of a sudden I fell into a deep sleep
Months past they had told me that I jump off a cliff
They explained that the flower patch was by it
I realize heaven and earth cannot be reached with out a sacrifice
With meaningless thoughts I would wonder of to the cliff area
To see the ocean were it meets and ends
I was told a story long ago that the feelings of the ocean can seep into your soul
The trend of this story came shortly after some deaths
I was fooled the lady with the Sea Blue Eyes can manipulate anyone
Ladies and men, she is an illusion of the utmost desire
Blaming everyone human kind knowing they are lyres
The ghostly images that creeps everyone is oneself
Desire falls upon those who are lonely
Believe of the unnatural becomes science
The Sea Blue Eyes is no lie cause they have been taking souls
Through century they have been taking souls for tolls
I stood once again near the ocean reaching to the sky
Lonely I was ready to disappear
One day she not the lady of the sea it was the one I knew
I was blessed that day she embrace me
I then fell into a slumber of bliss and desire
Now I just hear voices and I am paralyze down
A disappointment I was fooled once more by the Sea Blue Eyes
To be continue.