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Best Plant Poems

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

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New Plant Poems

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

Seeds that you plant Ninette by tor, michael
Plant Another by har, manthra
A Healing Plant by Spangle, Michael
a plant by Ward, Julia
House Plant Conundrum by Oliver Rotman, Mary
Firecracker Plant-The Sound Of Color by Inman, James
Belief Like A Plant by BuhainBaello, Cynthia
Plant More Seeds by Flowers, Molly
The Plant that was once by Bhangu, Narinder
Plant More Violets by williams, john

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The Best Plant Poems

Details | Plant Poem | |

I want your SEEDS

**"And his name was Jack"**

No one perceives what abides above the clouds. 
A giant, a harp, maybe golden eggs. 
I demand to see and feel, before I believe. 
A castle, a dream…. I want the magic beans!!!

I'm the daughter of a farmer. 
I have a donkey to ride, a story to tell.
“Jack and the Beanstalk”; my favorite tale. 
Once upon, a morbid dawn. 
I inhale a tiny simple yawn~ I levitate like the sun. 
I head out the door, towards the markets shore.
I grabbed my ass to stroll along the open path. 
My shoes aim out to the nearest creek. 
My ass and I desired a drink. 
There I saw an old Englishman, sitting on a log. 
It looked as if time was approaching his brink. 
In his hand, he had a sack.
A bag, a bag, embroil of ivory and black. 
His eyes were not from this ground. 
His body fragile, he uttered a moaning sound.
He was of dirt. 
I was pure. 
He pledged his life to me. 
I debated.... with many thoughts, 
Although his eyes... 
My eyes... Will never meet again.
I want what is in the bag!
He said, "I'll give you anything for that ass.
My legs and bones can’t hold up on their own, no more!”
I knelt down to where he sat. 
Smelling his essence of rot. 
I reached forward and grabbed his only baggage. 
He said, "This bag is all I got!" 
I answered, "And this sir is a fine ass." 
He replied, "I have no cash." 
Scowling at him, “No I want your demon seeds!" 
How my blood grew thin... 
Inhaling and exhaling out his sin... 
The old man all shriveled and timeworn, 
Propose the birthright of the seeds. 
Yes, plant them! Plant them... 
I cried excitedly! 
He pats the field. 
Said there I am done. 
Now clock as it expands. 
To breed this story short... 
He dispense his seeds. 
Lol...  BY;PD    (for seed contest)

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A

More great poems below...

Details | Plant Poem | |

I Think Of You - Ground Zero - 1

I Think Of You - Ground Zero (Part 1)

Leaving under a blood moon
                in a jet plane rising
  los angeles falls behind me
and I...


                              Clouds dance
            to the song of the spiders.
Latent sun rays fall on me like rain...I 

...They say third time's the charm.
On planes again.
A sky...endless... and then finally 
from the other end of the world to here.
A continent, an island,
an australian flower drunk on wine.
Her...uniqueness lends to her beauty.
...and I

A fourth night.
A church spire at sunset.
At a distance bats fill the sky,
resemble a smoke plume.

I plead the fifth.
It's all these moons.
Tonight a hunter's moon.
She's unable to hide 
even with her bowl of clouds.
It's no help.
She has no spoon.
                     Her luminous rays give her up.
Moonshine in the moonlight over the sea.

I count...five, 
six...on the beach.
A purple nightshade,
a sand flower,
Irish eyes speak uniquely to me.

I, you...
you can't roll a seven with one die.

Back on a plane.
A snow fog blinding.
From my window seat a one of a kind view.

 I eight...ate...need to eat.

Africa...a Safari.
A plant chloroform green
has holes like cheese.
A large swiss leaf.
I laugh and I...I distract myself.

A stitch in time beats nine.
 Back in North America.
A dilapidated fortress stares down 
an overwhelming thunderhead.

I camp out.
It requires a tenth...tent.
An Eagle never blinks.
No eye lids.
An unimpeded view.

...but I...I surrender.
There is no place in the world
I can escape.

i think of you.

You are living art.
What I perceive 
is what I live.
I perceive us.

I can picture you.
I am photography,
the camera, the lens.
I absorb your image,
process it.
A form of plagiarism

I didn't borrow.
I stole.
Inhaled you but 
I dream
and I...

...i think of you.

March 11 2015

Copyright © Maurice Yvonne

Details | Plant Poem | |

Tears to Weep

When I lay me down to sleep,
And cry the tears that sinners weep;
To speak the words of a contrite prayer,
And know that someone listens there.

He cares for sheep that have gone astray,
Who willfully wander their own way;
They vex the pride that hides within,
And drink the bitter cup of sin.

The web of lies and dark deception,
Lie in defeat of Light’s conception;
To capture all and destroy life,
With passion’s fire and human strife
We need to plant the gospel vine,
Where evil rules and saints repine.   
While martyrs lead with ransomed prayer,
With hope for life that tarries there.

Blood that was shed on Calvary,
Set slaves of transgression wholly free.
So we rise from the grave to seek reward,
Giving praise to our risen Lord.

Copyright © elizabeth wesley

Details | Plant Poem | |

The Gardener: A Soft Slam With Flowers

Fillet rhyme’s flesh (except for two remaining
mnemonic muscles)

to see if my skeletons can stand under their own duress
without leaning on gangsterisms and a pocket full of shells.

I have folded the katana four thousand times within my mind—
unsheathed from my eyes, it rides brainwaves,

mulching detritus into fertilizer 
for the seeds I plant in the ruins of your violence.

With every shot you fire,
I plant a flower in the casing, adding more photosynthesis
to turn your smog back into oxygen.

Your "just kidding" is a boomerang-bullet,
its true intentions covered in paint 
that was "Made in China"—

as it flies back ‘round towards your maw,
the paint peels off, and your "just kidding"
comes skidding to a halt (there’s the remaining
mnemonic muscle).

More and more people see your intent beneath the surface,


and you are left in the echo-reverb of your boomerang ballistics,
continuously shooting yourself, 
blaming others for pulling the hair-trigger,

until your words drain-out so badly,
the supposed life-force in your syllables
is a bluff floating on the fear of those who are too weak
to pull the intravenous filled with your "just kidding"

June 6th, 2015


Copyright © Chris D. Aechtner

Details | Plant Poem | |

Garden Helper

I’m out to plant spring flowers 
with little feet in tow.
His eager hands will churn the soil
as gentle breezes blow.
His tender feet will grace this place
and leave sweet prints behind
to create patterns of delight -
his garden art to find.

As temperamental winter bows
to steadfast warmth of spring...
most cherished of my flowers grown, 
my wild one on the swing!

I'm going to the garden
to chase a little boy,
buzzing like a bumble bee...
an afternoon of joy! 


Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders

Details | Plant Poem | |

Magic Beans

It was magic beans you placed in my hand as we held
Ones you nurtured,  embedded deep within your love
I know because it tormented me with euphoria planted
Stalked me earnestly  with your charming advances
You know I climbed walls 'til next you stood at my side
When you  occupied me and I  began to grow, the eclipse 
Was gigantic, extraordinary, a wanting wildness sublime
You were my mystical hen, the one who laid Golden Eggs
You made our home a  majestic castle suited for royalty
It was magic beans you infused in my hand as we held
Made me spin searching for a long pole to slide down
Escape with you  my loving wife from the Giant Ogre 
Inside me, I who feared commitment, a long time alone
But now you are the only enchantress I need or crave
And when it is my turn to die, take with me to the grave
The feel of you deeply rooted beyond my meager frame
From the soil above my coffin will grow beyond the sky
The largest plant with leaves shaped in awe of our lives
Steps beyond the clouds you'll find me playing my harp
An angelic music and song that will herald our union
Speak of our story in fable for children's open ears
Adapted to capture their imaginations, inspire them
Lift a glass in cheer to magic beans entrenched in you

Maurice Yvonne
Sponsor: Poet Destroyer A 
Contest Name: Magic Beans 

Copyright © Maurice Yvonne

Details | Plant Poem | |

Word Piles

“You know you're in love when you can't fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams.” — Dr. Seuss

There was an old man, he was tattered.
He’d piled his words like it mattered,
all of his life
through trouble and strife,
while his wonderful wife, well, she nattered.

Oh why do you pile those words over there?
They’re taking up space much needed for air!
Forgive me my dear,
I like them quite near,
without them, I simply don’t care.

He pushed them and nudged them, those words that he loved,
but his missus attacked them, often ungloved.
The man only smiled,
which left her unstyled
like all of her wits had been shoved.

One bright summer day the man took to flight,
off to the place we often call night.
His wife was aghast
as she stared at the past
and those piles of words in her sight.

She sat in their midst, breathing a sigh,
missing her husband caused her to cry.
The silly old pest,
could only but jest,
she missed him, but didn’t know why.

Until she began to shovel and scoop,
all of those words piled like poop,
throughout her house
by her missing spouse.
The thought made her lips start to droop.

Suddenly a baby word drew up quite near
and nudged at her eye, releasing a tear,
which started a flood
turning words into mud
who then giggled out loud with good cheer!

Contagious it was—all of that mirth,
more precious than gold (what it was worth)
turning around
her well-practiced frown,
releasing a smile on the earth.

What she’d never known, what she’d never seen,
was, though he’d loved words, she was his queen.
The joy those words brought
was what he had sought,
to give to his wife who’d been mean.

Now she saw through the mud his bright smile,
amplified much by the pile,
full of whipples and wots
and twisted what-nots
plus words not used in a while.

The funny ones, much in disuse,
discarded and thought too obtuse,
pronounced with a quack,
or maybe a glack,
were enough to plant grins on a moose.

So she gathered those words with great care
She even put some in her hair.
They whispered to her
like a kitty-cat’s purr
and her smile made onlookers stare.

She threw out her lonely big bed
and slept on those word piles instead.
The man of her dreams,
although silly, it seems,
was the hubby she’d deemed loose at the seams.

Finally she really did love him, him and his odd-wording ways.
She reads his words without ceasing, on her many, colorful days.
Her nights are now filled with chatter
and nattering, nat-nat-nat natter.
Those words and hers, joined as one voice, singing a word-piler’s praise.

John Wulf  08-11-15 for Dr. Seuss Quote Prompt Contest

Copyright © John Wulf

Details | Plant Poem | |

Living In Your Dream

Floating across rivers, valleys, and streams I'm thinking of living inside of your dreams Run barefoot through nature, you chasing me End up tripping and falling in love by the sea We're two eagles that fly, soaring high in the sky Let the wind take our bodies, as life passes on by You're a delicate flower, I'm a young honey bee Sucking your nectar and starting a new family tree Sliding down rainbows after a warm springtime mist Laughter and giggles when on your cheek I plant my kiss Your dream will not end having me inside you Our days will get brighter and our night times will too

Copyright © Tim Smith

Details | Plant Poem | |



Looking towards the blue sky
Every color camouflaged around the cloud
Tears of sadness began to dry
Watching all the colors display out loud

The dark needing to fade
The grey in my life finally made sense
Colors overlapping, forming a beautiful cascade
Shoulders of tense

I imagined your smile against the yellow sun
Giving light to all the matter of the things I've done
A warmness in my red heart-- together in the long run
Creating a new purple and pink sensation-- as one

My new rainbow doesn't come in black and white
Giving reason to follow the joy of light 
A gift of colors remind me everything will be all right
A guide blazing throughout the night

Lavender plant blooming for the world to see
A garden of every color just for me
Everyday I see the sunrise, rising up in colors of glee
My Rainbow will appear everyday without rain, no matter how deep the sea

Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo and violet, the perfect skin tan
My sweet angel your the largest spectrum where ever rainbows span


I wrote this poem for my mom.

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A

Details | Plant Poem | |

Goddess of the Moon


                                          Shine, Mediterranean Selene
                                          unique goddess of this dark life
                                          glow with pride and forget the strife
                                          all my nights are lonely and serene.
                                          I'm yours, only yours, pure and clean
                                          and although your distrust is rife
                                          soon, so soon... you'll become my wife
                                          believe these words of sacred mien.

                                          Do not let envy plant those seeds 
                                          of fear, of jealousy and spite
                                          from the demons come those breeds
                                          whose gossip and lies seek our fight
                                          They're who expect your heart concedes
                                          to steal what lives just for your light.

Copyright © Ruben O.

Details | Plant Poem | |

The Flower -part one-

“A Flowers Wilt”	

Witness the small existence 
that abides the beauty of-----------
Freelancers all around,
Just to get a good look.

A baneful abrasion, the flower took
It captivates you -------------
Reels you, steals from you, 
Until you pick the right flawless touch.

Dandelions swaying thin,
Here we fall like petals.
Ready to exploit, the beauty of-------
Inhale the fragrance,

Courtyard azure eyes, 
Embarking in a wishful eternity,
A crush they become, when loveliness up and left. 
A bully against arrogant threw feminine perfumed veils
Tulips waiting for the better auspicious sky
Asters claim the eclipse's,
-dinginess censors it from the brilliance of the sun.
A lonely rose
In My Helix World-
The out-and-out are born.
Cries in the dimness, 
A sweet Lotus echo 
Slight yelps of agony carried off by pollen breeze.
The earth revolves to fast,
Injections of herbal essence in the wind
For a split second, we feel pixie dust
Channel the essential, it fades
Earlier beauty, calmness-
A flourish smile,
Rusk of flower, a bluebird’s bread.

Like candles and dew, they stream and limber energy
Opposing others of its humanity, 
Against the command of its importance,
Pierced by its own elegance,
Thriving slowly of its own will, 
A short story, gone astray!
Tonight, we plant a tree, 

The Flower wilts
The gardener cries


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A

Details | Plant Poem | |


What goes up must come down. 
No colors can define who you are. 
You may own a cart or limousine. 
We'll still reach the end when it is near. 
I may be poor today and eat from trash. 
Tomorrow, you can't tell. I'll earn some cash. 
The bed where you lie is soft and wide. 
I sleep at a sidewalk and the stars are my lamp. 
You wake up each morn' with a feast on your table 
While we are scavenging to fill stomachs when we're able. 
Our destiny isn't written in the stars. 
We work for a living to thrive in this life. 
Be thankful every morning you witness the sun 
And pray tonight that no one lives same as I. 
Wheels come in full circle,rolling round and round. 
Today you'll be on top, 
I am watching from the ground. 
Let us bear in our minds that we are better than birds. 
Our loving Father ensures each mouth is fed. 
Not even the smallest details can pass by His eyes. 
So plant a seed of kindness and reap a better life. 

sponsor:FRANK H.

name of 

*5th Place winner

Copyright © Aiyah de Torres

Details | Plant Poem | |

Tangled Vines

I walk along the old familiar path in the wood of my childhood - the place that I willingly abandoned for the lure of new friends and activities that carried me ever farther from my simple carefree days. Nothing here is quite the same, and all that once was large to my child’s eyes has grown small. How can it be? The houses on the fringe of this old wood are the same houses we always came upon as children as we ran - exuberant wild Indians of our enchanted forest - away from our foes and into the safety of “clearings” - those back yards of neighbors whom we never really knew. Our small legs ran so quickly down that well-worn long-ago path in the days when we were soldiers hastening to secure our forts. Other times we searched for treasures in the wood's crevices, finding - one day - bed springs, metal pieces, and old mattresses and converting them into contraptions for jumping. I tread slowly, noticing how many spots along my way are now overrun with weeds and tangled vines. How did I ever not notice there were vines here at all? They must have been well hidden off our path. Perhaps a kindly neighbor kept the pathway clear of them out of consideration for all us kids. I cannot know. . . It was so long ago. I glimpse the raspberry bushes we used to happily discover each summer when fuzzy berries showed brightly red and plump. And there’s old man Miller’s house, whose fence we used to climb so we might quickly steal the juicy apples fallen from his tree. Sadness tugs at my heart. The tree has vanished, and in the place of old man Miller’s shed now sits a swing set looking barely used. I head toward the center of this miniature forest recalling how it used to hold such grandness in my young imagination. The pond where we used to skate in winter has disappeared as well. In its place is a broad high pile of dirt, and at the north outer edge in the distance I can see diverse machines used for excavation. Maybe soon the wood will be cut down. Though small, this place was once so wondrous! I think back to our Christmas vacations, looking for the perfect little hill to drag our sleds up- and the thrill of barely missing trees as we slid back down. Everything was magical, crisp and clean. Suddenly I trip on tangled vines I’ve failed to see. The vines are stumbling blocks that have blotted out the utter charm this locale once held for me. You’d think that being smaller to my grown-up eyes, the wood would seem even simpler now. But no, it’s lost the grace of my simple and easy childhood days; It’s become a labyrinth of too lush plant life. I think how - like my complicated life - this old familiar place is decaying and is overwhelmed with all these obnoxious vines and how one day - like the pond and Mr. Miller’s apple tree - this dear wood will have vanished. inspired by events of my childhood and the contest of Constance la France and now for Caleb Smith's In the Woods Poetry Contest

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich

Details | Plant Poem | |

Please Give me Wings

Wash my heart and make it clean
Remove the grime from where it's been 

Take my idle hands make them yours
Use them to open holy doors

My cracked lips long to sing your praise
Be my Misto the rest of my days

Guide my calloused feet along your path
I wish to know Love and not your wrath

Take my arms place them around the poor
Help me realize I need less not more

Plant your precious thoughts in my mind
Change me from selfish make me kind

let me see your face with my eyes
Remove my ignorance make me wise

Apart from you I cannot be whole
Thank you for this reconditioned soul

One day my life will end I know that's true
Please give me wings so I can fly to you

Copyright © Richard Lamoureux

Details | Plant Poem | |

Touch Me, Dream Weaver

Where are you?
Caress my hair,
drift through my mind's eye...
Let your fingers dig deep,
unearth the day's toils, plant seeds
that give birth to joyful tendrils
Use these, weave me rivered reveries...
Stay by my side 'til Sun kisses my cheeks

                                                 Blanket me in your kaleidoscope warmth
                                                     let silken threads of dreams tickle me,
                                                           so smiles meet my lips as I sleep
                                                                     Unravel my wrinkled mind,
                                                                 smoothen it, breathe new life
                                                                           with your magic touch
                                                                                    Let me feel you,
                                                                                     Dream Weaver

Date posted: April 25, 2011  6:40am

Copyright © binibining P.iNk

Details | Plant Poem | |

Love In The Trenches

Now this is my definition of love It's much like wrestling in the mud You get down and dirty And say things quite flirty Then it all comes together with a thud You scream out bloody murder together Promise your undying love forever Roll over and whisper The name of her sister Then you realize that wasn't too clever She pummels your head without any mercy You attempt to defend 'gainst her fury You start to see rainbows And a bunch of pretty halos A ferocious little dynamo this girlie Well eventually you recover your senses And are able to put up some defences You plant a big smacker On this sweet li'l attacker Then it's back to love in the trenches © Jack Ellison 2015

Copyright © Jack Ellison

Details | Plant Poem | |

Lives to Live

I need more lives for me to live
In this universe of beauty;
I plan more days to find new ways
Of doing freedom's duty.
I need not more joy than this
For I am life's dear lover;
And when I wage to turn the page
I'd never want another.

The glorious pledge of sunny Spring
With sweet June coming after;
Bring autumn sighs and summers cries
Lost in winter's laughter.
With virgin moons and scorching noon’s
And stars of a thousand nights;
I'd need no heaven if love be given
With all its sweet delights.

There are many splendors for the eye
And such music for the ear;
The mind would reel with all to feel
And see to touch and hear.
There's many ways to spend the days
And more to do what's kind;
For bread now cast on waters past
Returns again I find.

There are such gifted souls to know
And many more to learn;
While a promise rests in earth's warm breast
And unknown stars still burn.
In six days God made all the earth
The bible is known to say;
Six lives I need to plant a seed
Of love with one for each dear day.

But sad if love should fly away
Or hide his face from me;
Six lives aren’t much if I had such
But one’s all that need be.
With unhappy May and sorry June
Sad dawns and weary night;
A sorry world through space was hurled
When love had lost her light.

Copyright © elizabeth wesley

Details | Plant Poem | |

Giggles and Splashes

I had waited for you seemingly forever
So long did it take before you were to come into my life
But in so many ways you had always been there

Your hair so white more than once people 
Said that you glowed
Your eyes blue gray 
Soft but piercing. 

In the spring we’d plant flowers and you quite the digger
Would never tire of ‘replanting’ oh the control God blessed 
Me with that summer

On the porch we would swing and sing until my throat would be sore
And still Id manage one more
Lavender Blue, You Are My Sunshine, Red River Valley
I can still hear the wee small voice

In the summer under the big maple the front walk
Would flood and we’d run back and forth barefooted and splashing
Your face, pure joy, your eyes animated, your smile so wide
And those cheeks I could tweak them right now
Is there any better sound than giggles and splashes

Autumn we would take long walks and picnics down in the woods
And sit on a fallen tree. We’d find ants and worms and spiders and rescue the most
Precious of treasures. Feathers, milkweed fuzz, acorns, so much
Bounty for the taking. We’d bring them home and glue them
On paper or cardboard or make touch books

Winter oh please let’s have snow for winter. Snowmen
And snow forts, snow balls and mmmm snow cream. 
I remember the look on your face at your first bite as
If you had just made magic. 

We read books by the fire, books and more books
Then you would touch my lips and ask me to 
Read one with my mouth, which meant to make
Up one just for you.

You have been blessed with intelligence
You have an uncanny ability to fix things 
You’ve never seen before
Your sense of humor can put me away
Until I beg you to stop
You have a sense of logic beyond your years
You will sit on the floor for hours and build block towers for babies
Most importantly my son
You have been blessed for an unquenchable thirst for God’s own heart

At eighteen our time together will be changing but sitting here
I remember the words from a book we used to sing to each other

“I’ll love you forever 
I’ll like you for always
As long as I’m living 
My baby you’ll be"

To Noah

Copyright © Laurie Ginn

Details | Plant Poem | |

To My Guardian Poet II

There is not a poem that you fail to read
Or time that I’m away you don’t ask, “Why”?
There is not a time when you don’t plant a seed
Of joy into my heart when tears I cry

You’ve helped me to believe in what I give
Seen beauty in the silly lines I rhyme
You’ve helped me want a better life to live
And shown me Godly love time after time

You will not leave my writes without a thought
Oh what things need to change for smoother flow
A friendship true like yours cannot be bought
You’ve helped my heart to breathe, expand, and grow

A Guardian poet you have been to me
Accept my thanks and loyal constancy

Jade (Eileen to you, Richard Lamoureux)

This is my second poem by this title. Richard Lamoureux has been a constant friend, mentor, and guide. I so appreciate his integrity, honesty, and spirituality. He's encouraged me over the years I've been keep writing, to enter contests...and to believe in my self-worth, a precious gift. When I'm gone...he'll visit my older writes and leave a note. :) I've gained so much by reading his book- Dummy: Hurtful and Healing words which is so full of precious insights on the power of words to heal or destroy. Well I know this power. Well have I suffered because of it. 

People come and go...It's good to know some are there for the long haul. Some are there simply because they care...nothing more...nothing less. Thanks, Richard.

Copyright © Eileen Manassian

Details | Plant Poem | |

Murder in Randolph County

 (Spenserian Sonnet) 

A flagrant man is Robert Brown, a swine;
his eyes glow red like ember coals of fire.
Will fate be kind or bring him bitter brine
and will his soul the evil one require?
Did in pretense he seek to prove desire
and rise to plant a kiss upon her lips?
He sliced her neck and watched his wife expire,
as blood streamed down and dripped from fingertips.
Yet rumor spread as neighbors came to grips
with horror of a murder in their town,
and newsmen raced to pen details in scripts
while lawmen flocked to chase the villain down.
          I held my mother in my arms and cried;
          her eyes met mine in sorrow as she died.

Copyright © Cona Adams

Details | Plant Poem | |


Lotus petals soft with shadows
Drinking from your shallow pond,
Blossoms that compete with heaven,
With the twilight hour you bond.

Aquatic in your very nature,
Deemed fit to float at Buddha's feet,
Your peaceful beauty calls awareness
Where such enlightened beings meet.

Sacred plant known through the ages
Your spirit dwells within my heart
And centered there, your spark of light
Assures me that we'll never part.

Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong

Details | Plant Poem | |


Loving is to through a pebble into the sea
and the ripple become a wave
to plant a seed
and it become a tree
to cook a meal
and it become a feast
to build a house 
and it become a home
to shine a light 
and it become a beacon
to speak a name
and it impart trust
to see what lies benieth
what is seen on the surface
to hear the secrets
of the heart being told
to touch and give 
comfort to a human being
to feel empathy instead
of sympathy in time of need
to let love be measured
by decades and deeds
where words are the least 
of expressions of these
but summerize the tears, fears
and tongue of our God
a relationship with both 
mate and Diety we laud
with works and prayers
love is more than words
it is the path we trod
love is a blanket
covered to keep warm
love is a needle
sewing socks while a fire burns
love is waking
before the break of dawn
love is baking and taking out
before it burns
love is a love note
during the day
love is thought
finding words to say
love is sometimes saying
"You can have it your way"
and love is duality in saying
"Lord give US this day"
where hell and high water
have no say
a sacred trust
in giving time away
love is forgiving all that
is abroad
love is not giving 
that which belongs
to God
the only place to find this love
it is the place we call heaven
up high above

Copyright © john loving iii

Details | Plant Poem | |

The Precipice

Is it insane to want to watch your step,
to purposefully plant a foot?
 Must one’s eyes always be downcast,
if not pierced or piercing are we lost?

	leaves fall
	color flees

	we stand clothed 
		but bare before the storm

	across a distant lake the light shimmers
	like mercury under glass
	the sky larger than the landscape 
	lays down tumble weeds of cloud

	tripping across a buried morass of roots
	the beauty under foot screams for its share
	of gratuitous attention

	floriforms of fungus blooms 
	resplendent in silence
	static and maudlin
	is the eye

Somehow, I think sanity is not
all it’s cracked up to be.

First Published by Five Poetry Magazine January 2014

Copyright © Debbie Guzzi

Details | Plant Poem | |

The Weeping Willow Tree

The weeping willow is outside you see
Even though it is beautiful it wasn't meant to be,

Our willow is huge and hangs to the ground
When the wind blows you hear it all around,

It's beauty is timeless and very much alive
But, on a sad note it is not wanting to survive,

It will be sad to see an empty space
Till the new tree we plant that will take its place,

The weeping willow will definitely be gone
I am sure late at night you will hear its song,

Weeping and crying for all of us to hear
Because after all the roots are left that will shed its tears.

Written By: Unique Poetry 2010

Copyright © Michelle Born

Details | Plant Poem | |

Before My Pen Is Hushed

      Before my flowing, poetic pen is hushed in Quietus,
And I have reached my journey's end with folded hands;
            Departed into my dreamless sleep beneath violets,
Let me write one everlasting, eternal, immortal verse;
                  Of the ravaged garden of my life.

      I want to hear a bird song when I quietly glide away,
With a sigh, I will lay my pale form down peacefully;
            I have willed my Keepsakes and my musing poems,
The Angel of death, will take my hand into another realm;
                  And the drums of time will cease.

      Oh, it has been a life full of happiness entwined with sad,
I have travelled many different roads to get to Tranquillity;
           The chapters of my life are full of the dead and undead,
Memories of childhood, family, friends and pets I loved;
                  The scars of life stab my soul.

      I do not fear death and I am ready to go through the gate,
But I will miss nature, the woods and the waters moving;
            And as I walk the silent passage alone to my eternal night,
Think of me as being set free and soaring high up above;
                  I lived a life weather-stained with tears.

      Leaving life is something we all must do; it is written,
I was held by a thread in this earthly realm until that last gasp;
            Now, all I know is the peacefulness of a leafy tree above,
Drifting blue clouds and rain falling gently on my resting place;
                  I was a shadow on the wall of time.

      Do not weep over my eternal grave heartbroken my dears,
I have followed the beautiful Angels footsteps to heaven;
           My poetry is timeless, ageless, and will always remain,
I have shed this earth bound life and I am a butterfly set free;
                  I drank from the deep blue cup of life.

      So come, dear hearts and plant some pretty flowers in Spring,
I am at last united with all my beloved who have gone before;
             Touch my name and remember me for my beauty,
And although my life was but a whisper, I loved every moment;
                  Now, I exist in another realm.

August 26, 2015


Submitted to the contest, Final Poem, sponsor, Silent One

Fifth Place

Copyright © Broken Wings