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Age Flower Poems | Age Poems About Flower

These Age Flower poems are examples of Age poems about Flower. These are the best examples of Age Flower poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Haibun | |

Scent of Talcum

    A humid afternoon , in the middle of August,  has nothing much to commend about it.  I can hear the humming of air conditioning coming from both sides of a familiar old street.   It's too hot for even the ardent gardener to be out and about, and sidewalks are deserted, while children are herded into backyard wading pools. Clouds are softly framed in bands of charcoal grey.  
I stand on the corner, waiting for the light to change, and waiting for cars to allow me to cross the street.

rush hour traffic...
bees circle the elm trees with
no notice of me

     I approach the old Victorian, and can't help but notice how painted shutters need repair, and the garden needs weeding, with devil-grass taking over the wind-whipped faces of dreary, old zinnias. Seeing it so unkempt, makes me a little sad  
   Drooping over the sidewalk, thirsty roses lean over to greet me, as I ring the bell.  A dear old woman opens the door, and suddenly, with unbridled joy, sparkling eyes, leathery old face, that crinkles into delight, my gloomy mood evaporates, like a freshly-washed springtime day,....and I'm quickly ushered into the talcum-scented foyer of friendship. 

a wilted blossom
still beautiful in my palm....
new lines in her face

7/19/15  For Contest Sponsored by Scott Thirtyseven 

Copyright © Carrie Richards

Details | Free verse | |


Pretty princesses
Dancing all around
Frolicking through fields
Very beautiful
Just like you!

Copyright © Smail Poems

Details | Free verse | |

The Color Missing

The Color Missing
Red, black, and blue are the colors of our work pens. Red is the color of the blood we spill on other people’s mistakes.  Blue is the color of the songs we sing on tax forms or pay stubs- every page has a secret melody. Black is the color of the streets we fear most. Black is the color of our signature of approval. Black is the color of our death.

‘But what about the Green pens?’ I ask. They say ‘the ink is too hard to see.’

Copyright © Jacob Reinhardt

Details | ABC | |


You send bolts through my skin 
something I was never to 
accomplish with you, when I 
saw you it's like my heart sank 
to my stomach and I was in 
shock my body still my body 
heavy felt like when I moved I 
was about to fall to my knees 
you make me want to get 
inside my brain pick you up and 
take you out pick you one by 
one like a flower because I do 
love you and love you not.

Copyright © brittney lopez

Details | Romanticism | |

Love needs Two Hearts

Love cannot bloom,
love cannot go on,
love cannot persue it dreams,
love cannot be what it is meant to be,
love cannot be where it is supposed to be,
if love doesn't have two hearts.

Love needs two hearts to be true,
Like water to a dried rose
makes it bloom in spring weather
with such glory and beauty.
Love cannot be true if one heart
doesn't love the other.
Care, trust, honesty and loyalty
in love it has no boundaries,
it has no color, it has no age,
like a fine wine or an aged whiskey
it grows better with time.
But love cannot fullfill without the other half.

If a woman loves man,
let her love him,
if you love me,
than love me, but if my heart is gone
and cannot be found in such relation with you
then I must halt, till my heart comes around.
If it never does show with the first light of morning,
then it wasn't meant to be with thee.
Come now, do not shed a tear for me,
a simple heathin, who cries havoc
when something doesn't go his way.
Do not cry, do not shed your one of a kind tears
for a souless man, for a heartless man like I,
but do not blame me,
if my heart cannot be found.

Love needs two hearts,
not one or the other can survive
without each other.
Love is patient, love is kind,
but with ever lover comes another.
And we will all fall in great and deep love,
be intoxicated with each other,
and our sweet kisses that God himself would shed a tear
for such beauty that still exisits.
Love needs two hearts,
you cannot have one, without the other.

Copyright © Chris Boskovski

Details | Free verse | |

Dad's rose

Alluring rose,
Lost some petals,
Little withered,
But still whiffing her odor

All he said to her,
That one day she will bloom,
For thorns are all she needs,
For it’s in her stars,
To be a lover’s delight
To be a wedding’s wreath,
To be last gift of a living to dead

Alluring rose,
Lost some petals,
And he stayed there,
She needed him but water and sun

For gems of purest rays serene,
She is born to blush unseen,
She will 
She will be a delight
And all then a father will do,
Is seeing her off from aisle with smile….

Copyright © Shiraz Iqbal

Details | Free verse | |

Daffodil Dreams

Living rays of sunshine in fragrant blossom
Hide their countenance from the silver face of
The moon riding high outside her window

From twilight ‘til dawn, they in patience
‘Bide the night, keeping silent vigil o’er
The lone sleeper that lay before them

She lay dreaming of fresh air in the spring of her youth
Running through the bright summer gardens and
Dancing with the memory of autumn

Now, as the winter winds howl outside her window
She dreams of warm kisses and
A man with daffodils in his outstretched hand

Christopher Thor Britt
Motif: Nature/Romantic

Copyright © Christopher Thor Britt

Details | Free verse | |

This Lovely Vase

This Lovely Vase

This lovely vase
So delicate and fine
Shines now by the window.

This lovely vase
Has known more years than I
Known the touch of many

This lovely vase
Once a Wedding present 
So my Nana said

This lovely vase
Once stood with flowers tall
Nana’s home grown blooms

This lovely vase
A careless touch and then
Fragments on the floor

This lovely vase
Pieces now were gathered
Mended then with gold

This lovely vase
As it sits there on the window
Catching sun’s bright glow

This lovely vase
More lovely than before
Now trimmed in gold 

This lovely vase
Healed by the scars of time
Still with grace and beauty

Copyright © Sue k Green

Details | Free verse | |


Girasoles sway in wind outside
the sad vacant house across the street.
They are very high, almost filling
spaces where small thin children played --
their shrill cries, their shouts, floated across
the narrow street, assaulted my ears.
These tall sunflowers are so stubborn,
so quiet, so yellow, and so brown.
But now, gladly, I would trade them all
for another chance to see, to hear,
some new noisy children at their play.
Tomorrow I will help to clean up
that yard, may recommend new tenants,
other children; and, I will not miss
these brown and yellow girasoles.

Copyright © Leo Larry Amadore

Details | Rhyme | |

I'd forgotten to count

I'll make a way and seize the day
if only my heart would learn,
the morning dawns a canvas drawn
the hope for all we yearn.
Awake and shine
a sprightly twinkle 
lingering round aging eyes
as seeds of joy furrowed in wrinkles
release the sorrows of sleepless night.
Back casts the image
A journey hardrock washed
a life bent senescent
of years best not forgot.
Weary legs lead the way
to pretty wild flowers scattering 
Carpe Diem, let wisdom say
for that which youth is scavenging.
Smells and sights and sounds so ravishing
amble the aged called glory bound
prudence discovered mysteries foreshadowing
a time for the blessings I'd forgotten to count.

Copyright © Sarai Romani

Details | Free verse | |

Late Blooming

You come from that place where Queen Anne’s lace
and milk thistle grow thick on the creek bank
behind the house.
Black-eyed Susans, opened to the sky,
sway strong and tall in the wind.
A dogwood blooms;
in remembrance of friends gone.

And the dust gathers
heavy over that forgotten place.
My heart closed up like a daylily
at moonrise.
And I, a late blooming rose,
far into an Indian summer.

You left; then I—
left and shook the dust not just from feet,
but hair, skin, bones.
It collected deep inside, though.
As you did.

We never said goodbye.

© stephanie pepper, 2013

Copyright © Stephanie Pepper

Details | Free verse | |

Golden Glowing Biscuits

            Golden Glowing Biscuits

Eohippus at the dawn of history rides off the earth
His son the dawn horse rides out on the day
First through a lush field of heather up ahead
Guided by shifting westward winds
Then over the hills of clover running to the cliff
Down labyrinths of canyons crooked paths
Past the canna, columbine and hollyhock bursts of reds
There, just over long green grasses beyond the pastures
The animal takes a break
Relieves himself, releases golden biscuits to the earth
Which aid the fertile fields to grow and flourish

Copyright © Earl Schumacker

Details | Free verse | |


(The story of all flowers)

I am thirty five years old

I am a mid aged flower

My roots originated from the dark grounds of the past

My colored petals headed towards the sun

I will bloom my best in these upcoming years 

I will give my precious fruits to all that is dear to my senses

Before my beauty fades away

Before death comes my way

Even after my death my glorious thoughts shall shine on

Throughout the seeds i will leave behind

For they shall bloom in the future

Far away from my own existence 

They will rise from the darkest places

To become the seeds of happy memories

And a reminder of pure love

Copyright © Mona Karaki

Details | Free verse | |

Hill And Mountain Talk

           Hill And Mountain Talk

Copper flowers quarried in the lower tundra
In sculpted form beneath the pebbly footing
Two giant mountains there to quarrel with each other
Who will occupy the lion’s share of space
One mountain insults the other to its face
Calls it a hill and asks it to leave the place
They stay for centuries, carving out the sky and sun with their jagged shapes
Copper flowers do just fine with moisture from the fog
And survive quite well between the hill and mountain
Who shade them beneath their faces, but feel their weight disgraced       

                                                           6/21/14 Hills are Alive With Poetry contest          

Copyright © Earl Schumacker

Details | Rhyme | |

The Bloom Off The Flower,The Dying Of The Rose

The Bloom Off The Flower, Dying Of The Rose

Old,blind and very ill, they wait to die
Growing cold with chill they sadly lie.
Ravages of Time eats away heart and might
Until sunny day becomes a darkened night.

In this world Time brings on that spirit
Savaging body, so silent we never hear it.
Broken down,resting in an old folk's home
Sad dying souls never again to ever roam. 

As Death arrives there is no ringing bell
only the one way trip, to Heaven or Hell.
Or the trip into a dark and long dirt nap
buried deep into the grave's earthen trap.

What was once singing, love and solid gold
now is sin's judgment on these dying old.
Bloom off the flower, dying of the rose
all facing it cry mournfully as it goes!

Robert J. Lindley, 06-18-2015

Note: A dark one but much truth rests deep within.
Copyright © 2015 Robert Lindley

Copyright © Robert Lindley

Details | Dramatic monologue | |



London flower, England queen,
When shall your frangrance comes to Africa?
Mother smiles and dimples are waiting to cheer 
You up on the African soil.
Father wants to embrace you before he dies and
I sincerely wants to kiss you, london flower.

Sweet, sweet, lovely African child
Africa is a charming land
Fertile, lovely, pretty African soil
But- hmmmm- so many wise men dwell in thereof
Don't know if I will be accepted the way I am
And the cruel hearts of the leaders might hurt me
My children still need me but the bombing in 
Africa is what I can't stand, I may get killed.

Copyright © john chizoba vincent

Details | Free verse | |

Now that I am older

Now that I am older and wiser I like red
Red is the color of vibrancy and brightness
Red says hello I am here, I will be heard, and I stand out
I will not be ignored or hide in the shadows no more
I will wear red floppy hats in the summer with bows or flowers
I will wear red shirts and dresses that say I have arrived
I will decorate in red and plant red flowers
I will dance on the verandas and sing my favorite songs
I will visit all of my favorite places and read all of my favorite books
Now that I am older and decided that my favorite color now is red
I find beauty in things that I never have before
I find brilliancy in colors that I haven't when I was young
Now I sit and ponder, I wonder, what I will like when I am old blue?

Copyright © Jamie White