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Violence Flower Poems | Violence Poems About Flower

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

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Details | Monorhyme |

Shadow to Shadow

Shadow to shadow, shade to shade
In youth the Eden where you played
was left bereft, destroyed, decayed,
by trusts malignant masquerade

Shadow to shadow, shade to shade
Sweet crops die in your fallow glade
as opportunist needs invade
and bleed the life from every blade

Shadow to shadow, shade to shade
First, victims surging song is brayed,
but dirges of the wronged soon fade
as urges pant their serenade

Shadow to shadow, shade to shade
Agendas you've arranged cascade
to keep your motives undisplayed
and cover cracks in your charade

Shadow to shadow, shade to shade
You've planted with your soiled spade
these rancid seeds in hopes that they'd
conceal the putrid plots you've laid

Shadow to shadow, shade to shade
Your blighted past will be replayed
and every bloom on whom you've preyed
must lie now in the beds you've made

Copyright © Lycia Harding | Year Posted 2015



Details | Free verse |

Watching The Matador

The roaring bull
enters the arena;
clouds of dust raise.
Then the slender matador
in tight attire arrives;
he has no knowledge
of who is watching.
The prettiest girl
in traditional dress
has set eyes on him;
her posture is elegant.
A red flower in her dark hair
suggests an inflamed passion.
It's a scorching day
in Madrid; the fan she holds
does little or nothing
to keep her cool.
Thoughts in their minds
contradict; she's the admirer
from the balcony.
He is the fighter in the arena.
He must kill that bull
to win her; fierce are his looks
while his hands keep on fanning
the red cloth to gain control.
He can't lose this fight;
he must win at any cost.
It's a battle of strength and pride;
man against animal.
Ah, the bull succumbs to injury...
maestro grabs his horns and claims victory!
" O Matador, my matador...
you are the bravest one in all Spain! "
Stretching her arms.
. 



 

Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2016

Details | Ballad |

War of the Rose

Drenched upon the battle field
Under silver weapons wield
Misdirection her only shield
The wildest of roses grew

Upon the blush of her pretty head
Stained with what men had bled
White petals puckered in brilliant red
The Whitest wild rose glimpsed hell

When the battle scene lie deaf
And not a soul to love was left
Moonlight filled the tears she wept
And the Rose pitied the man

Winter came, life kissed death
With the sweep of a snowy breath
Pale hands of the woman Macbeth
Washed White to red to grey

Well summer come and summer go
No eye that lays upon her knows
Her blushing color is to show
How red is to remember

Copyright © kaelynn Jensen | Year Posted 2015






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