Red rambling roses.
Pink parading pansies
Yellow yawning ylang ylang
Scarlet shining strawberries
Gorgeous growing gardenias
Beautiful bending bracken
Lovely lilting lilies
Attractive ambling agapanthus
Copyright © Shane Cooper | Year Posted 2015
-The Tree of Life-
Featuring: Casarah Nance
~~I am beautiful on the inside you will see~~
~But really I am scarcely a tree in the woods.~
Beauty found a tree that sits and does not utter
Owning, up to the heavens, look at -- when ready
Simply stop, admire, count your blessings,
enjoy the raven staring down at you
For this tree was not planted by a gardener,
This tree, who needs, not to speak, draws true auspice air,
Not like the gardener who planted a garden,
then got annoyed by the smallest of weeds
This is a story, about a gardeners mockery,
after trying to cut down my Pecan Tree
Hypocrite the farmer,
does not know the first thing when it comes to flora
Plant sources, that only grow in as weeds, (poor crops)
a picture, not even God, sets his eyes upon
I forbid, the thirsty growers from coming,
when putting up or wanting to gossip and speak of my roots
Look how they lose their lower leaves,
from over embracing each thorn
Take heed the whispers of these filthy propagators,
at my windows & doorsteps, Shh, they are watching!
Peeping-Tomming, robbing from my bluebonnet bed,
while in a deep sleep counting sheep
Wake-up, and Click away,
the dandelions are gone, airborne into a fuller universe
From the hunger, I left behind,
since jealous eyes envied how high my beanstalk continues to rise
Smile, at the yellow wool, held out by the same green thumb gang,
whine when others succeed,
Scratching one another on the back,
as if they were the National FFA Organization
Grazers growing super fast- crowfoot grass, a bitter look,
found in their dead pedal path
Horticulturist, all alone, on the inside, growing bushes of lies,
contaminated vase, black roses
I can't endure participating in a dead stem convention,
when the seed-woman cries for care
Exposing an over watered garden,
hoarding clodhoppers grin, separating everything
The potential of plowed plants is nothing more than corrupt cactus,
and invasive plant species in disguise,
Proof they don't know the first thing when cultivating the perfect flowers,
A die hard moment-
Not even the sun wants to climb up on the side of the landscape of falsehood
Sickened by the holes and yellow stains of dust and dirt,
broken by the Farmer and torn overalls
By daylight, the gardener lives kneeling, tending the greenhouse, of lies
By nighttime, the grower, swallows, by singing and tossing salads all night.
The Tree continues to grow,
The Gardner Cries
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2014
The red rose may be beautiful or grand
Sensual even LOVELY. But still only a
THEN....I strolled the garden BLUE
I saw the INDIGO ROSE
The BLUEST I had ever seen
A TEASING picture of the
The blue ROSE is EXOTIC, she feeds
The WINSOME ROSE shame with
Professional precision on a petal plate
Of pleasing purity.
Shades of BRILLIANT blue FLASH ACROSS A MOVIE
SCREEN BLUE VIXEN SUPREME
She sends the entire garden into bland oblivion.
A blue diamond glimmering in a GOLDEN heaven.
All other roses WILT of envy clamoring at her
Heels with CONGESTED JEALOUSLY.
When I set eyes upon this ROSE it so inspired me
To see what had not been seen.
The INDIGO GARDEN and all its splendor
THE IMMEASURABLE SOUL OF THE
MAGNETIC practically hypnotizing
These are the INDIGO GARDEN guarded
Secrets I've been knowing
THE INDIGO WAY
ALWAYS THE INDIGO ROSE FOREVER
Copyright © VAL BROOKLYN Rogers BLK PANTHER | Year Posted 2015
Millions of magnificent miniature marvels,
shoulder to shoulder, sharing your showy shrub
as rich red rumblings rise from your racy petals.
Like sounds of cymbals you slice the still air,
shimmering in your lace of chiffon, shouting to the world!
Colors bursting in brilliant blasts of
Copyright © James Inman | Year Posted 2015
PRETTY BLOSSOM BUDS
Plague of bees and bugs buzz then plug on pretty blossom buds
Supple buds' petals suffered black and bruise from bottle break
Bended bulbs bleed beads as their beauty bubbles in blink
A brave boy with bucks blurt bread and butter for the buds
Briefly, without bluff, brisk brute block the bad bees and bugs
Bygones bent the rosy pink blossom buds beam blissfully beautiful
Blue butterflies and pretty blossom buds share a merry boogie bond
Now,bold and burn below sunshine bright, the bashful bees and bugs
Promise never ever again to box and bug those pretty blossom buds
(c) Olive Eloisa
July 07, 2014
CONTEST NAME: Alliteration
SPONSOR: Dr. Ram Mehta
4th place, to God be the greatest glory.:)
Copyright © Olive Eloisa Guillermo - Fraser | Year Posted 2014
Flowers flourish flavoring the field,
wild waifs that wave and whirl and whip
beneath the wind's wanton waltzing ways.
Bucolic bees buzz blooms and sip
sweet sage, sacramental savorings.
A halcyon habitat, a happy home,
for blessing birds and bees and blossoms,
majestic, magical May meadowland, my own.
Copyright, July 6, 2014
Faye Lanham Gibson
Copyright © Faye Gibson | Year Posted 2014
Whether I will wither in the warmth
Or wilt with the weather,
I worry wildly!
For I'd rather,
Weep with wounds when wrapped into a wreath
Get wrenched (plucked) away worthlessly!
Copyright © sima mittal | Year Posted 2013
Sunflower sprouted happiness yet only just a weed,
a gardens hated nemisis this beloved bad seed.
Mimicking society using others resources to feed,
erected thick headed sunlight thief of greed...
Metaphorically speaking, this I do believe,
a sunflowered populace thrives to deceive.
Just as a flower unable to uproot and leave,
starving in the shadow behind this weed it grieves...
Copyright © Brian Davey | Year Posted 2016
Blissfully unaware of the DANGER in the GARDEN
Flowers bloomed, blossomed and burgeoned the big way
But in vicinity of mankind, there is no leeway
Public in Park Picked, Plucked, Pulverizing Plethora of Petals.
For 4 lines - Poetry Contest by Silent One
Copyright © Shrineetee Kar | Year Posted 2015
I painted the pests of parasites onto my own petals, blossoms and buds.
Wilted and weak, I remained bleak from all the blackouts.
Nauseous from ignoring mother nature's nectar, my greens grayed and my reds rusted.
My roots writhed from the rancid rain that I consumed, while the lattice of my leaves languished.
Spinning, I was thinning since my poisoned petals plummeted like falling rain.
Birds, butterflies and bees fled from me as if I was a dying star.
As I began to catch fire from my destructive desire, my thorns turned inward tearing me like a tornado.
The shame of shallow flames showed me a song of my praying spirit.
Rasping and gasping, I briskly blotted out the booze.
Patiently, I pruned my pollution.
Now, a book of blooms where my leaves prosper as pages and my roses rise as words.
Copyright © Chantelle Anne Cooke | Year Posted 2017
The river has run dry, its dripless bed is empty, and
Crossing the flower carpet dim and dusty, parched
Penstemon and brave little brittlebush,
Expecting an inundation, stretch in a rush -
Spreading petals and leaves which their wetted
Wilted tapestry of color weaves - but they fast
Revert to survival tactics and retract petals, in the
Yearly drought of the Sonoran summer.
The desert of Sonora, Mexico, is one of the driest in the world, making plant life there very uncertain.
Copyright © Sidney Beck | Year Posted 2012
Fancy fine flower freshens fields and forests forever.
For one liner 5 Alliteration poetry contest
Sponsored by Silent One
Copyright © Nayda Ivette Negron | Year Posted 2015
VIOLETS IN SPRING
Violets in funereal sleep,
bonnie beneath Winter’s crust.
preparatory young virgins,
putting on pretty purple petals.
Virtuous violets gracefully glide
through the rich soil,
the world’s first tantalizing taste
of their demure debutante smiles.
Kim Rodrigues © 2017
Copyright © Kim Rodrigues | Year Posted 2017