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Best Blue Poems

Below are the all-time best Blue poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of blue poems written by PoetrySoup members

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New Blue Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Blue poems are below this new poems list.

The Blue Collar Guy by Chircop, Charmaine
A story about a blue cloud by eyes, goldeneagle
Blue Ink by Sadlier, Riley
the blue by Rosenberg, Tehilla
Blue Louver by Gupta, Probir
Pink and Blue by Gupta, Probir
Blue heron by Spahillari, Dino
Degrees of Blue by Davey, Brian
Eyes of Blue by Stassi, Rick

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The Best Blue Poems

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    The sky resembles the robin's eggshells
                                                      scattered across the ground,

a blue so seemingly infinite                     yet fragile,
cracks running between understanding and madness
       complementing each other

as divine truths in their own right
to conquer my mind,
to unhinge the doors,
making it unnecessary to pick rusted locks

      letting thoughts fly free,
                                       releasing love out into the horizon.

If frozen within caged snapshots of mildewed expectations,
      it will surely die,
                 but even so,
  I was willing to strangle it by holding on too tightly.

    Until I saw the sky and eggshells today

      Peppered clouds reflected on the water,
                                            paralleling speckles on the eggshells,
                                    remind me of the freckles on your face.

  We need to be wide-open-free,
                                                we need to fly,
         without focusing too hard on shells of yesterdays.

We need to unclench our fists,
unclench our tongues,
explore the vast blue peppered sky 
                                                      on wings of letting go....

 so that we can once again feel with purity,       
 so that we can hold each other ever closer.


Copyright © Chris D. Aechtner | Year Posted 2012

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Remember Me

Remember me... A fresh sweet scent of last gardenia on yesterday's linen sheets Remember me... A cherry bud in your backyard orchard revealing first pink shades in once upon a soft blown kiss Remember me... An early summer sharing your beach towel and coconut butter Remember me... A roaring log fire on a stormy night in the hallway to your bedroom door Remember me... a short~lived star that fallen into your arms then faded to nothingness upon the empty shore. Remember me ... The blissful moment The saddest song in your forevermore

Copyright © Charmaine Chircop | Year Posted 2014

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Daddy, why did you go away?
Don't you know I wanted you to stay!

Daddy, when you left mom,
Don't you know you left me too?
Now all I do is cry and cry
--- I want to die!

Daddy, mommy say's it's better this way,
What does she know!
They're not enough band-aids to cover up the blues
Mom's kisses can't heal this kind of pain.

Daddy, I look around 
No one stands in your garage
Daddy, You took every tool
Except the hammer and sitting stool
Daddy, I still miss you 
--- I love you. 
Dear Daddy, I'm all grown up now
Haven't seen you since I was 10

Daddy, I sit on your favorite chair,
No longer do I miss the way you caressed my hair.
Daddy, I'm taking the old hammer and this BRAND NEW saw,
It's time to patch all the holes mom punched in the wall 
*The day you walked out on us*
Daddy, don't worry about the times I tripped and fell
Mom found someone to fix  the loose boards,
Got tired of scraping my knees 

Daddy, I finally realized I'm okay,
I agree with mom, it's better this way.

by- Not every dad is great (but step-dad YES!)

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013

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Introducing: Leonora Galinta & Poet Destroyer

I was awoken by the effulgent smiles of sunlight 
Dancing on my window pane with great delight 
A jovial repartee of birds: I didn’t sleep last night 
Waiting for my love under the gleaming moonlight 
“Till I heard their melodies of a glorious morning sight 

In my blue gown, I run up the verdant hills 
What an enchanting view, so mesmerized …I stand still 
A gentle breeze wraps its arms all over me, down my heel 
Tingling my deepest sensations, great passion I feel 
October Breeze just arrived, dancing with flowers …I kneel 
Savoring the moment passing by ...I listen
The wind whispers -- watching leaves as they glisten
On this day, a beautiful October Lullaby of life is written
The squirrels outside -on this night - seem quite smitten
Another dreamy tune under the blue moon's transition

Dancing my way down the verdant hill, under the sun
I run with joy, into the arms of the majestic one
The passion I feel describes fall's adventure just begun
Intoxicated by the blossoms ...I stand still, in a silent shun
Dreaming and romancing with my love Blue October

~A Poet Destroyer collaboration~
   A tribute and birthday Gift 
   Happy Birthday 

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2015

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We Are Not Now

Starry square seizes midnight thoughts.
I am not now, nor have I ever been
her last shore. Unsheltered

from winds and waves—eroded, tired
I walk barefoot on shards of broken
sunsets—one lost moment at a time.

Cold coal-black window with stars,
I can hear the murmur of sea shells
from distant islands—but it's not enough,

their lapping won't grow louder.
Matryoshka doll with all those versions of
her in her. White-chalk promises

written on lips—red bricks walls—
untouched by the brevity of candles that
burned at both ends. An urge long lost.

She's not now, nor has she ever been
mine. Unmitigated, 
I force myself not to look back, to

forget. But I see the moon
—I think it's her— and
this night's no longer true.



Copyright © Ruben O. | Year Posted 2016

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Heart symphony

sings a
of perpetual
omniscient narrative lyrics.
Tones reminiscent of azure bluebird lullabies.
Enchanting like stars in indigo skies and blossoming like fragile fragrant bluebells

15 February 2016
Heart symphony contest by Nayda Ivette Negron
Syllables Per Line:	1 1 2 3 5 8 13 21
Total # Syllables:	54
Total # Lines:	8  
Total # Words:	28

1 original, poem on the theme of heart inspiration using the following words:

Omniscient, indigo, soul, azure and perpetual.
In Fibonacci form.
The number of syllables in each line must equal the sum of the syllables in the two previous lines. So, start with 0 and 1, add them together to get your next number, which is also 1, 2 comes next, then add 2 and 1 to get 3, and so on. Fibonnaci: 0, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21... Poetry: 1 syllable, 1 syllable, 2 syllables, 3 syllables, 5 syllables, 8 syllables, 13 syllables, 21 syllables...

Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2016

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Big Poo, Small Poo, Yellow Poo, Blue Poo

Big poo

        small poo

  yellow poo

           blue poo.

There are so many different kinds of poo,
it's amazing to see what passes through.

Square poo

               round poo

skinny poo

               fat poo.

Making poo-poo
is something everyone has to do.
Yes. It's true!
I do too!

Look at this poo all covered in nuts.
It stinks far worse than rotten fish guts.
Oh me! Oh my!
Oh me! Oh my!
It stinks so bad,
it caused that fly to die.

So some poo is quite smelly.
      Some poo looks like jelly.
Some poo is very icky,
      especially when it comes out sticky.

Some poo smells high.
       Some poo smells low.
Some poo slides out fast,
        and some poo comes out slow.

Big poo

        small poo

  yellow poo

           blue poo.


What kind of poo is your favourite to do?
Hard poo? 
        Soft poo? 
               Loud poo? 
                       Quiet poo?
Maybe an in-between sort of doo-doo?

The smelliest poo is made by the razor-backed Zonkzifferack.
Boy, when the razor-backed Zonkzifferack decides to drop a mighty stack....
....stand back! Yes. Please stand back!
There is nothing worse than the poo attack of a razor-backed Zonkzifferack.

Then there are the infamous Knack-a-croodle Crows.
Their poo smells like that of a Summer rose.
Not at all unpleasant to the nose.
Nothing wrong with those Knack-a-croodle Crows.

Look! Over here.
That poo is making a quick dash.
Oh! What a huge splash!

Now look at the poo over there.
It's all covered in hair.

There's also poo that floats like a boat,
or sinks very quickly in the drink.

Poo shaped liked cats,
poo shaped liked rats,
poo marching along wearing fat hats!

Remember children,
the next time there arrives a choo-choo,
making poo is something everyone has to do.
Nothing to be ashamed of through and through.

Whether it's new
             whether it's blue
or possibly a bit old
             even covered in mold....

....everyone has to make poo.

  It's true!

Even Ms. Brown, the teacher,
and Mr. Collins, the Preacher.
Your Mommy makes poo.
Your Granny makes poo.

      I do too!

                  Yes I do.

*R.I.P. Dr. Seuss

Written: January 28th, 2012

Copyright © Chris D. Aechtner | Year Posted 2012

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Toddler Sky

-Toddler Sky-

Down where I sleep, 
You hold me, embrace my every way
The Marks up on my skin
You caress, taking away from the ugliness

Watching the simple breath, when I breathe
Breaking the ice, soothing my inner peace
A sweet spray across the paleness in my limbs
Holding the warmth, I've been loved throughout my life.
From picking up sticks to the walking stick
My loving dear I know you will always be there
A few wheel chairs, when broken bones mend
You know my every cure*
Walk with me across the hall
Through the oldness, and the boldness of every color in the sky
Thank you for taking me as I am
A light twinkle' every time I feel the colors of the rainbow drip
Now a newborn takes his form
In you I find the strength to stretch my arms and reach for every star

When happy moments fail, 
I embraced the colors I found in you
I make out every tree, and wonder why and how?
I close my eyes to imagine the fun of chasing fireflies
Tonight I'm keeping my prayers simple, cute, and innocent
I will count sheep and search for sweet lullaby dreams
Smiling like a 3 year old this very moment, 
You think I'm having "Baby Blues."
My loving dear, thanks for having patience,
Painting my way down a toddlers sky
Every time  "P M S" hits


Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2013

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The colors of Happy

I am the painter of Happy
Traveling along life's dark streets
Listening for the beat
Feeling hidden colors with my feet

I see the beauty 
beyond the dark
Floating within, this concrete park
Leaving my mark
Playing tag with a can of paint
My art is vibrant 
I won't settle for faint
What you see as ugly
it truly aint

I'm not afraid of dingy places
I let colours flow outside the lines
My choices are different kinds
Injecting a symphony between life's spaces 
Color removing tear drop traces
Grey shades this paint erases
I see possibilities in others faces

finger painting
Or with a brush
I make the concrete blush
beauty awakened with my touch
I love the power of yellow
If you are down
Or feeling mellow
I just might be the right kinda fellow 
My flavors are sweet like jello

Within these hands
I wield a rainbow
My tools, stardust and ultra glow 
From my bowl
I pour happy on your soul
Until your own light begins to show
Watch me move quick
When others are slow
Wrapping amazing 
With a platinum bow

Let me paint you
A different kinda blue
Bright skied technicolor 
The perfect one for you
A bubblegum happy kinda chew
Grab life and dance
Do what you want to do
Choices many
Don't settle for so few

I can paint you
A penny for your thoughts
Help you realize just what you've got
Be the dreamer
It will help a lot 
Choose exciting
A life that's red hot
Forget Generic
There is more to be got
Let others choose boring 
What I offer 
can't be store bought

I'll hand you a brush
We can cover more ground
Flower squirting
Big footed clowns
Spreading happy around
That joyful sound
Multi colored 
Me and you
freedom bound
Our happy can astound!
What was lost 
Its been refound
Time to open these eyes
Happy colors
Look around

Inspired by our resident Happy Jack Ellison!

Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2015

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Gold Star

I remember as a young boy, going out to play, I would sometimes see old Mr. Kimball, sitting on the steps of his porch, often reading the paper. World War II was in full swing so the newspapers and radios were avidly sought out for the latest news.  Mr. Kimball was a fireman, and probably not even that old, but he seemed that way to me.

Sometimes, he would invite me to sit with him and we would talk about everything and nothing.  I loved spending time with him because, he was the only grown up I knew that took the time to entertain the mind of a young boy.

In his front window hung a small flag. It had a red border surrounding a white field, upon which there were two blue stars.  I was always curious about it, so I asked him what it was.  He said “It's a Sons in Service flag.  One star for each son serving.  You remember my boys don't you?”  I did of course.  Chuck, the oldest, used to tease me, calling me a sissy to get a reaction.  Bobby was a couple of years younger, and the bike I was riding once had been his.

Mr. Kimball went on to explain how Chuck was now in the Army and fighting in France.  Bobby was in the Navy, aboard a ship somewhere in the Pacific.  He didn't say it, but I'm sure he was worried about both, communications being what they were back then.

One day, when I was walking over to see him, I noticed that the flag had changed.  It now carried one blue star, but the other one was gold.  With the innocence that comes of being a child, I asked what the gold star meant.  He quietly said “It means Chuck is coming home”, and without further comment, he turned and went in the house.

A couple of days later, I saw a hearse pull up to the Kimballs house, and four men carry a flag draped box up the porch steps.  That is the moment the meaning of war came to a small boy.  I knew Chuck was home.

Copyright © Bob Quigley | Year Posted 2012

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Just One Touch Of Your Hand

Just one touch of your hand and I taste the late evening stars It would help me forget the last sound of poured rain yet it makes me remember those undying sparks Just one touch of your hand and I live once again in moonlit yesterdays I'd belong to that time When you came in my life Looked me straight in the eyes and rekindled old flames Just one touch of your hand and you're mine You're mine and mine alone You're the breeze on my cheek the smile in my sleep You're the feeling I feared yet a feeling I need all along You're the present and past You're the dew in the dust You're the moment,the memory You're mild passions once born An emotion's serenity. Just one touch of your hand makes this heart understand that the sun would never be gone Its never too late to reach heaven's gate To whisper I love yous as I place a blue rose on your marbled headstone.
Just a note-Absence or death are not the end of love but only the beginning of a feeling that is deeper than love itself... And I have loved you more than love itself.. a fiction poem

Copyright © Charmaine Chircop | Year Posted 2015

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A Choir of Nature

“The earth is the Lord’s and the fullness therein, the world and they that dwell therein” A Psalm of David…
Solitary, I stand upon these ever changing shores Where sun, sea, earth and winds abide Where time and tide flow forevermore In a timeless waltz, as one, they reside Within this glorious setting sits a conspicuous ruin A beautiful church built with mortar and stone Stones carved and laid by hands, gifted and willing And now vast blue skie replace the old wooden dome B'neath sits an altar graced by Morning Glory vines Ascending, yet, to the sun and matching blue skies While fragile walls hugged by bougainvillea climbs Well dressed in their shocking pink and white styles And though silence prevails, I hear a choir of nature sing Melodious chants echoing within these broken walls Where the elements congregate and worship in sync... Transfixed; I kneel in worship and my soul gives its all! ~*~
By: Annalise Brigham For: “The Church by the Ocean” Contest” 09/29/11 *3rd Place

Copyright © Annalise Brigham...a.k.a. Audrey Haick | Year Posted 2011

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Unbearable Beauty in Blue

Standing on a mountain peak I find myself surrounded by a breezy cerulean sky. How peaceful and restful is heaven’s hue. Nature has breathed her essence on me. Later I bathe in deep aqua blue and again I am amazed. How soothing and serene is nature’s watery embrace. How warm the caress of this tropical sea. Midnight’s blue has found me now. My soul is imbued with tranquility as I stand again on the mountain peak gazing up at an indigo immensity where myriads of diamonds glitter unbearable beauty to me. How wonderful all of it is.

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2016

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Forgotten By Tomorrow

She stands at the edge of the precipice,
looking down towards her future.
The last tears that she will ever cry,
falling from her eyes, 
then falling into oblivion.
She watches them drop 
as they disappear forever.
Yet, she laughs in the face of death.
Would it really matter if she took the leap?
She has been forgotten by tomorrow.

The wind blowing at her back,
pushes her to the edge.
Almost agreeing with her final decision,
and encouraging her to jump.

A thousand thoughts and memories
racing through her mind.

Her first day of school.
Her tenth birthday party.
The lonely, awkward days of her teenage years.
The day she discovered poetry.
The moment she first saw him.
The day she thought that she was worth something.
The day when all of that became a lie.

Every memory 
that never made the pages of a history book.
She has been forgotten by tomorrow.

She exists to no one but herself.
In the blink of an eye, she decides her fate.
Her feet leave the ground,
and yet, she did not fall.
Out of nowhere he appeared,
and carefully grabbed her hand.
Pulling her back to reality,
saving her from the brink of disaster.
He held her, as her tears stained his jacket.
Old tears of sadness,
mixed with new tears of happiness.

She was remembered by yesterday.
Before she was forgotten by tomorrow.

Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2014

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My Tricycle -

~My Tricycle~

Christmas  eve,
I could not help but peek.

There it was, a blue and pinkish bike.
With streamers all for me...

A ride, I wanted to feel inside.
A surprise, I ruined for my eyes.
The joy I felt, a naughty kid like me could not hide.

Running back into my room, jumping with glee. 

Waiting and waiting...............................................

Christmas day, comes to life.
I'm all excited.. With the biggest grin...
Mommy walks me to my bike.
My grin slowly fades away.
A red tricycle, I start to cry.

I did not understand, why my older sister got the pretty bike.
My Christmas, ruined by a ruby red tricycle.

Mommies, hug did not comfort me.
I cried all night, and asked my daddy'
"How can this be?"
"It's not fair!"
"it's not fair!"

Daddy, had only one response..
"Sweetie, soon you will see."

New Years Eve**

I sit near the windowpane.
Staring at my sister ride her blue pinkish bike.
Even the streamers were laughing at me.

Night fall comes around..
It's cold and everyone is asleep.

I sneak my way into the barn. 
I stare at it~
My sisters bike!
The smile on my face, I still can't erase.
"This bike will be mine tonight."

I grab the bike by the handles bars.
I walk the bike under the stars. 

Two hours pass, and still I can't operate the pedals.
Finally I remove my shoes, and reach the pedals with my toes.
I'm off into the night, than suddenly I fell upon them rocks.
If only I waited for that push from daddy's hands.

:To Be Continued:

Lesson not learned,
My scars all accounted for.

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2012

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- When Dreams Runs Out -

Warming thoughts cannot heal
In between those moments of words

When thought are not enough
My feet are shaking as I fall on my knees 

But my prayer was heard
I has no dreams left

Listening closely to the melody of life  
Into my failing grace, again I would follow life music

You've made my heart beat once again
and the sorrow in my soul existed in vain

A new step on the journey has begun
The storm gave birth to a rainbow

A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved

Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2015

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Haiku 69-About The Swan Lake

swan lake a feather falls silently

Copyright © Charmaine Chircop | Year Posted 2014

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Gracie's Prayer

Gracies's Prayer  

       Amazing Grace, how sweet the taste
          A song I dread up to these days

   Dear Mommy
Mommy, can you hold my hands?
Show me how to make God understand?
Will you hold my hand, like when we would pray, 
maybe then he will listen to the words I say!
How do I ask God, If I can keep you for another day?
I promise this time to pray for you every day

Mommy, please share beautiful words before you say good-bye.
I thank you for the shoes I've grown to love and tie
What am I going to do when I want to talk and be with you?"
Now who's gonna take care of me when I'm feeling blue?

Mommy will you still protect me, when you are gone?"
Defended me, no matter the trouble I will put myself in.
You always explained the reasons why I was here.
You also taught me, how to face my fears away
Now how am I going to find my way home?
Are you still going to whisper words, saying "I'M NOT ALONE!"

Mommy why is everyone offering their sympathy?
No one compares to your supportive heart when it came to me.
Mommy, can you make the suffering stop?
Don't you know you are all I got
Mommy, I have no cure for what is in you
All I can offer is what is in me. 
I want to go and outside and play, with you
Hold my hand and take me with you to the other-side.
The place you spoke of when it came to Amazing Grace.
Your new sweet surrender resting place.

*** Mom I'm here to visit you again.
A place where baskets are offered by family and friends.
Mom, can I stay here forever with you?
Hold me the way you use too.
Mom, to you I sing a lullaby  of praise
Mommy, can you hear me?

                    (ending  metaphor)
Digging deep into the ground, 
There and only there can you be found.
One last breath shared with the open skies.
Mommy, can I go with you?

*to my mom*

By: PD

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2012

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Snowflakes Melt Our Paper Hearts

Too many cold nights would follow these hours FIrst frost will destroy the blooming moonflowers Because,WInter goes and WInter comes Snowflakes melt our paper hearts I want to preserve moments before they' ll be the past I just want to hold you and make each second last I want to taste your sweet words breathing velvets on my lips I want to feel your kisses treading softly on my hips I need to hear your lyrics whispered in my ear I want to let my hair down cascading on your tear I want to beg for your love Be fondled by your touch Want you to give me butterflies Tickle and make me blush I don' t want to make memories But you won't be here One day I'd call your name pretending you're still there Too many cold nights would follow these hours FIrst frost will destroy the blooming moonflowers Because,WInter goes and WInter comes Snowflakes melt our paper hearts Wet rain will cover palm prints in the forgotten sand New fingers trace your laugh lines where I no longer stand Stars wouldn't recall our waltz dance and places that we've been They won't remember falling in once upon a dream

Copyright © Charmaine Chircop | Year Posted 2015

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Cornflower Blue

(a conversational collaboration with Christine Ueri)

"remember the dream I had when we were 10?
(waves and waves of cornflowers everywhere)
about the boy and the closet?
(sunflowers, circle, glass house?....closet, yes)
cornflower blue
(the closet was cornflower blue?)
the light in that dream was cornflower blue
(the air, the atmospheric light?)
yes, especially in the closet

I had that dream for so long
I'll never forget
little boy blue and the kingfishers --
the blue and white china plates
with the bridge and the lovers; the two doves in the willow tree,
that made me look for japanese
the funny things we do as children

(you are writing a poem....)
catch the words, my love
(you already wrote a poem up there; bridge it together --
I dried cornflowers with dandelions in a blue and white book; but it wasn't a dream.
Well, in a way it was, because at the time, I was floating in the clouds)

he wore a blue and white striped top in my dream

and I remember him
when I look at the sky,
the clouds and the golden sun --

I caught the words!
(yes! did you string them all together?)

not yet!"


August 29th, 2012

Copyright © Chris D. Aechtner | Year Posted 2012

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In the Harem of the Flower Kisser

at the break of dawn a Hummingbird starts his rounds Morning Glory sought flaunting a red hue - Mexican Sunflower tempts looking hot, hot, hot the Don Juan of birds sucking nectar from Beardtongue. . . drunk on French kisses Goldenrod at noon. . . Zephyr carries a sweet scent beneath a gold sun between Rose bushes the Flower Kisser gets lost in Blue Infinity Sweet Pea and Bee Balm entice with purple petals. . . Bees join the orgy Monarchs swarm in droves when blue Hummingbird alights on Butterfly Bush Evening Primrose waving in the dusk’s last breeze. . . the proper lover the Flower Kisser leaves his harem sated as white Moonflower glows *The capitalized names for flowers represent some of the most popular flowers visited by hummingbirds.

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2012

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Sweetly Sings

Medicine of this soul faraway with a dream seventh Heaven looking across a sea
the other night went for a walk strolling against a cold wind distant thoughts

Crying seagulls on the beach looking around even snow lying in the sand 
it was quite an awakening cold cutting ice wind blowing across the brow

Listening to the echoing roars crunching of great cliffs tasting salted air
waves crashing thunder I thought of you as the surf sprayed on shores
Oh the moon as the winds howl laying golden whispers your name landing wishes fall on a star sparkling beams Heaven you came to me under a crystal blue white light 

An angel fallen who found one miracle lost in this world drunken in the chalice of love 
each drop dripping passion adoring loves beauty forever and always

Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2015

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Love Is Not And Love Is

Love is a small big word Many times written but easily mispelled All ears can hear it All eyes can read it but few will feel it Only the special ones will understand this four letter word which makes all the difference when we walk hand in hand.

Copyright © Charmaine Chircop | Year Posted 2014

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You Know I Love You

Winds may howl,
Wild animals growl,
The forest grows cold, 
For I am lonesome and old
As the sun peaks through the clouds, 
I hear your soft, young voice so loud!
And though you speak dead man's lines,
You speak them with majesty divine
As I am wrapped in  my woe,
I only want you to know...
...that roses die black and violets lose blue,
But I will never die
And you know I love you!

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2013

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The Traveler and The Rose

A strange blue rose - alone
midst an array of clustered flowers -
a few of them her friends -
the shy violets, lovely white lilies, and bold marigolds.
In the gracious garden spot the traveler singled her out -
his gaze resting admiringly upon her.
Each day as he passed that spot,
she was the one he sought. . . 

And day by day the traveler came around,
speaking through the fence softly in sweet sounds
that wafted her way with the wind.
Persistent wasp, in guise of a honeybee,
he tried so hard to wear that flower down. . . 
till unexpectedly, he strode right through the gate,
and blissfully ignorant of a rose's care,
plucked her up, swept her high up into the air,
and uprooted that blue rose from her safe soil.

But he did not a gardener make.
Knowing nothing of roses,
he knew very little of any flower he pursued.
Moreover, one mere blue rose cannot long compete
with the other bright fanciful flowers
which, along that traveler's path, he was sure to meet.

Those soft whispered words
that caressed her blossomed cheek
soon ceased.
And the water to her soul (if a rose has a soul,
he did not care to know), stopped its flow. 
Scars he left -
new thorns on her stem that grew outward
from his cruel cut, 
but she'd go on. . . . 

Long time replanted now in solid refuge ground,
the strange blue rose
has gained self-understanding,
that one thing for himself (she imagines)
which the traveler she so briefly knew
has never found.

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2010