These Flower Prose Poetry poems are examples of Prose Poetry poems about Flower. These are the best examples of Flower Prose Poetry poems written by international PoetrySoup poets
A flower breaks out afresh from its swollen,
green bud and then stretches outward into
the sun-drenched sky.
A thing of nature that's timeless
and perennial, it faithfully blooms and
adorns its surroundings like its predecessors.
Never alone, it is joined by its floral neighbors
of its own kind in fragrant numbers, suffusing
the atmosphere all around with a heavy, yet
sweet stench of lavender and honeysuckle.
The thick odor seduces and encourages the
flower-borne bees, hornets, and yellow-
jackets nearby into a steady rhythm and pulse
of continuous labor over the pollen-rich
blossoms and perfumed, colorfully-tinted
petals. From an adjacent pond the over-
abundant and unsubtle beauty of the
lily-of-the-valleys add their distinctiveness
to the already rich and lush floral landscape,
now teeming with the life and vigor of
spring in full bloom.
As a burgundy mane of curls envelops her fair complexion,
Arturo whisks her up in his arms seductively...playfully
He is not just a beast but a sensitive lover to her
complex and intimate needs..she longs to feel him
embrace her body, soul and mind
and ride the waves of exotic and deep pleasure,
For Arturo has long been misunderstood
seemingly confident and serene
inside he swirled and churned..
he knew of his deepest and wettest desires
as he longed for them amongst the strokes
of pleasure and climax,
He watched the moistened petals part
and wanted his own intimate flower
to seduce with his intoxicating words,
Although Arturo could weave a bewitching spell,
he cared for her with the scarlet mane,
Their passion was timeless yet a tempest that blew
winds of hypnotic and earth shattering ecstasy
He longed to plunge her to the wall
and take what is his while she raged with emotion
He craved the taste of her neck and her sweet spot all the more...
he couldn't help himself..he ached for thew smallest sip
and then drink from the berried rapture,
She ravaged him as she turned and convulsed deep inside her body
He drank of her carnation tinted buds of beauty
and swallowed her whole and hungered still for more,
She writhed in pleasure as he was a vapor swirling above her hair,
her long wings opened wide to show him of their beauty and hidden places
within one another
He stiffened at the length of them
and desired to taste them in his mouth
and bring her to ultimate heights
in the midnight skies as his darkened eyes
looked into hers and the breath drank of the other
in pitch black night of erotic wonder...
Arturo would not ever stop loving her
his precious flower scented with the essence
of incredible need and passionate lust.
In my life I often feel I am alone; alone in my thoughts, alone in my musings, alone in my day-to-day movements and unsatisfying activities. I move like a ghost through hallways and down sidewalks, unnoticed and, at times, gratefully so.
I do not wish to be eternally alone. I long for togetherness. But despite this desire for a real connection, I find myself regularly retreating from that temperamental beast that is human interaction.
“Come on now, sweetheart. Don’t lower your head. Don’t look away. Look up! Smile at someone! No! Don’t go back into your bedroom. Don’t lock the door! Why are you doing this?” my brain will plea.
I can’t help myself. Aloneness is comfortable. In being alone, I don’t have to worry about anyone but myself. I don’t have to please anyone else. I can think anything I want, wear anything I want, listen to anything I want, and laugh at anything I want.
And still there remains that nagging desire to be loved and wanted and needed by somebody. I do not know the feeling of being truly desired. I do not know what it is like for someone to crave my company, my smile, my kiss, or my touch.
But I would like to…
I cannot make someone love me or like me or want me in some primal way. It may hurt, but I cannot make that handsome boy want to hold my hand or brush my hair back behind my ear. I can only struggle on. I can only work within myself. I can only try every God damn day to hold my head up, keep my eyes fixed ahead, a give the world the best smile I have. I and I alone can bring myself out of the safety of my bedroom and into the bright world that lies beyond that locked door.
I often find myself alone with nothing more than my thoughts and the ever-strong glow of a computer screen. But no longer will aloneness be the constant in my life. It is true that never having known the caress of a man’s hand on my thigh doesn't make me any less of a woman, but I fear that if I stay confined within myself much longer I will begin to become less of a human. A flower cannot grow if it retracts its leaves and petals every time it feels the warmth of the sun or the kiss of a gentle spring rain.
And I want to grow. I want to grow so tall and blossom so big and beautifully that every place on earth is touched by my shadow at some point in the day. And I will grow. I will push myself and share myself with the world, and finally
know the closeness and comfort of love and honest, unabashed companionship.
Seasons and Time Travel
The whirring sound travelled again
I always hear it
From afar or just close by
Jarring my senses
Way above I can see the tiny wings
the blinkers, they seem to tell
Places I dream of.
Peoples and cultures.
unfamiliar faces I behold.
Architectures of the most modern world.
The skilled hands of God's artists.
As winter melted into spring
Sleepy flower beds, Slowly arising.
Tulips and peaches. Mums and daisies.
Sunkissed leaves on treetops
Then, standing in the valley, amongst unfamiliar greens
I smell mint and fresh nature of the Spring.
Ah, The perfumes of the Gods, lingering..
To find myself dwelling and blossoming.
I see the beautiful winged flies swirling by
After sometime, slipping yet to another time
I climb and reach the peak
of some snowcapped mountain.
Feeling and listening to the sharp coldness.
I curl up.
The first time,
like making love.
Echoes against the valley's bosom.
The heart beating fast.
Then I stretch to the vastness and expanse
of gods' creation before me.
I bring home with me.
And golden ears of corn stretched to listen, to the suns
warming ray of words, as stems swayed and rattled. In
the next field yellow Sunflowers genuflected, lifted
their heads to their heavenly maker, turning not to lose
his eye. And the sun beat of an egg blue sky, a blanket
of life for all to nestle. Only song rained, spilling from
the throats of lofty Skylarks sharing their delight on this
miracle of days. Hawthorne, Bramble and Blackberry
wrestled creating a thorn haven for Blackbird and Thrush
as they cared for the young ever gaping mouths. Bumble
bees and Hover flies darted flower heads, intoxicated on
the abundance of rich pollen, the flower kissed and life is
granted. The fruits ripen, Field mice nibble the sweet corn's
tender pods, and the Buzzard glides softly with searching
eye. This day takes place with no rush or haste, no agenda
to adhere to, just to amble at natures pace. And on I walk
For years no one ever had a clue...
Of the secret she hid..no one knew..
The child inside her never shed a tear...
Although she lived everyday with fear...
She grew up never knowing what love was...
Till that fateful day, when he met him on the bus..
He was tall and handsome and had a great smile...
Knew all the words making her feel worthwhile...
They fell in love and soon were married...
And that’s when things changed...the love got buried..
The days were long and the nights were lonely...
They seldom spoke, and if only...
She hadn’t seen that ad...this never would have happened..
Join the Garden Club today and...
wipe all your cares away
There’s more to this story..I must conceive...
So please follow this sequel and I believe....
You will stop and think of the words I wrote...
And perhaps even take your own personal note....
June 27, 2011
See the wonders of the world
As they pass to us unfurled
Such an amazing light
Sun shining so bright
Flying on the wing
Hear the birds sing
The grass so green
Such a sight has you ever seen
The lilies in bloom
Orange hue in their flume
I see stars in my head
Of the roses so deeply red
The crate myrtles so pink
They cause me to blink
Birds sitting in the trees
Catching the cool summer breeze
Dogs continually play
Let them stay and have their way
The fluffy clouds so high
Up, up high in the sky
The trees they sway
In the wind they play
The magnolia blooms
The beautiful pearly white flumes
The scent so pungent
So sweet to the smell
The bees they separate
Jump from flower to flower to pollinate
God’s wonderful earth
Created for our birth
We shall begin again
From now until the end
comme une fleur
si douce si délicate
tu me demandes encore
pourquoi je t`embrasse qu`avec mon esprit
j`ai peur je ne veux
pas te casser
Even in our winter season the soul of the coming year bursts through hard thick frost,
Even in high piles of purest white snow, buds grow for our future of the next summer,
Blow flowers stir and seeds my mind with flowers of the rarest beauty of our nature,
It is a miracle of this world a characteristic of not understanding natures jigsaws.
Every leaf every little flower and grain will enrich the earth to sustain its many needs,
It would take too long to enumerate all the flowers, buds the insects in each new year,
A Christmas rose expands its white chalice undaunted by the sharpest of crystal frosts,
It blooms amid overwhelming wreaths of snow and the hardest ground but it never fails.
In the valleys of high mountains the ground is covered with these hardy beautiful flowers,
January has a dear old favorite and my old friend the snowdrop a delicate mighty force,
White aconites, the white leaved colts foot flower grow in the milder months of our winter,
In the woods and hedges insects begin to recommence active life under barks of old trees.
Every advancing day presents us with a fresh and cheering symptom of a clean new spring,
Hedge sparrows and the thrush begin to sing, wren pipes lay, we see a golden crested wren,
Blackbirds whistle and linnets gather and little lambs appear in cold snow covered fields,
The house sparrow, a bold courageous bird, renews his brisk chirping a challenge to cold.
So when we look through white frosted panes of spun glass and look across winter countryside,
When we moan we are bored but it is too cold to take a walk or play in the clear open air,
When we come home from working and complain that their feet are wet, cold and badly wrinkled,
Nature is busy getting her armies together to make meadows wonderful and glades beautiful.
There is no season without a witness of a higher greatness which I cannot understand,
In the cold iron depth of winter nurtures the whole vegetation of our future summer,
Like germs of faith and hope in the heart of man that cannot and must not ever fail,
Little buds grow on a bough, corn peeks from frozen earth, nature has moved a mountain.
as we set it was you bet
lay back seat
we held like a feat
sug and rug
each other theater was dark
so we got a good start
it was our chance
IN THE MOVIE HOUSE