Ode Flower Poems | Ode Poems About Flower

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

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Details | Ode | |

Ode to beauty-w


I stand on the snow covered mountain
Colorful vase of flowers
Slopes  with flower beds laden
I saw the snow lotus flowers
I asked, “Why are you all alone here?
Beauty is meant to be adored.
Should give yourself to somebody
Before your petals fall to dust soon, dear.
What if I crushed your petals, I asked
As at these heights, you are quite lonely”..


One of the flowers quickly responded
“I enjoy the shelter of blue skies.
I would be too glad
If you choose  to crush my petals
My fragrance will spread everywhere.
Fulfilling the purpose and duty
If destroyed, not admired.
By plucking my petals, remember
You won’t gather my beauty,
Beauty is to see, not to be plucked'.


“O’ lotus, you teach wisdom to man
Praise her beauty, don’t destroy her. 
It is the gladdest thing under the sun
Touch a hundred flowers not pick ever”
O’ man, pluck not wayside flower even 
It is the traveler’s dowers.
Silently a flower blooms alone
And in silence it falls down
If I am worth many pleasures,
I think I am too few then”.

June 15, 2014
Form : Ode
First Place win in
Contest: My favorite poem by Carol Eastman
Form: Ode (the Homostrophic or Horatian Ode)
Rhyme scheme: ABABCDECDE (Ten lines)
Second place winner in
Contest: Ode sponsored by Jared Pickett

This is the  English Ode, also called the Homostrophic or Horatian Ode. 
The Romantic Ode often followed the Irregular Ode's structure 
and the Homostrophic Ode's meditative quality.

The poem also won the second place in the International Poetry
Contest of 2011 by Poetry Soup.

Copyright © Dr.Ram Mehta | Year Posted 2010

Details | Ode | |

To A Sunflower

Child of the Sun, wake up to the Call
let your enamored petals sway in the breeze
let love ooze from your tender body, and
the aroma of your nectar, call forth the bees.

fierce shades of yellow, adorn your face
as you bloom in a golden hue
we are but mortals, who falls to your feet
even a  fair-maiden will just envy you.

your love spreads the blessings of the morn
as each dawn brings unblemished hope
you stand firm in times of storm
defining courage, in a grander scope.

O Sunflower! I am in your awe
free me from your tentacle of love
may your beauty pervade this Earth
as gods sing hymns, in the heaven above.

Copyright © Miraj Raha | Year Posted 2015

Details | Ode | |

Star Flower

In the twilight of suspended star thunder
where the waking jungle and broken Temple of tradition meet one another
she moves with a panthera prana, pranayama of precise paradise, air of spaceless pleasure,

A lavender Tigress of effortless enlightenment
seeking sensations on the edge of eternity's cremation, 
on her fingertips questions and answers dance to mudras of nimble demolition
as the triumph of truth blazes on the tip of her tongue's flavored amusement,
genetics of ginger helix she licks and sticks to the flesh of nude nirvana
limber in the moment of typeless titillation, 
becoming an animal of fearless asana,
a creature of chaos prowling along the heartbeat of karma,

Brahma made her beauty from the diamonds of a billion deceased roses,
the ascetics recognize her as a child of Kali, gorgeous and gruesome in vendetta, 
for the Brahmins she is a Mother of immeasurable mystery, a kiss on the eye of history,
worshipers whisper the wealth of her shameless and shapeless clarity, as charity of Parvati, 

Heirlooms of sun blood and moon love decorate the tender truth of her body,
a garden of webbing galaxies, catching the notions of novas her mandala,
rain romantic in flying fall, plucking the Ganges sitar her mantra,
the movement of melange madness through perfect passion her sutra,
poetry naked on the nerves of nascent love need is her tantra,
chakras uniting to recreate the uncreated color of consciousness, crown her aura,
as the lotus of love blooms blue, she dances on the fragrance of freedom -


Copyright © Justin Bordner | Year Posted 2015

Details | Ode | |

To a rose

Ah, sweet bonny flower face
That sits outside my door
Nodding in the eve time
Waking gently in the morn

Nothing so pretty as your pink-tipped petals
Nor as fragrant as you, my rose
Your very existence is poetry
Sprung up in a garden of prose

Ah, but my lacy lillies
Sigh enviously at your grace
And all my quiet pansies
Wish silently for your face

But only you are the queen of flowers
Beautiful now and forever more
You, sweet bonny flower face
Who sits outside my door.

Copyright © Anna Erickson | Year Posted 2012

Details | Rhyme | |

Ode to the Cherry Blossom Tree

Pops of pink, sprays of white,
your canopy of petals shimmering with delight.
Blossoms that glow at night and fall all day,
catching the light in the most visceral way.
Sprays of new life and branches anew,
fragrant with joy and possibilities in the morning dew.
Every Spring we await your bloom,
Cherry Blossom Tree you are Spring's magical costume.

Copyright © B Marie Furcron | Year Posted 2015

Details | Ode | |

Missing You

My love for you will flower
Even in the winter cold
Every minute, every hour
As days with you unfold

The shimmer of your grace
Even in the darkest night
Rays of beauty from your face
Touch my heart's delight

Elegance to fascinate
And blow my cares away
Radiance to captivate
And shine in every way

Wisdom and devotion
So knowing and so dear
Courage like an ocean
To wash away a tear

Longing for the touch of you
Reaching in my dream
Madly falling, straight and true
Like raindrops in a stream

Vivid thoughts of holding you
My arms around you tight
Push me on when I feel blue
And through each lonely night

Copyright © Mike Martin | Year Posted 2016

Details | Ode | |


I was walking alone in my
garden, like I do every day,
I go to say ‘hello’, to the lonely
flower – to see if it’s okay.
To see it looking depressed,
is more than I can take,
It just needs a darn good
friend – before it does awake.
I’ll see what I can do to help
this flower smile,
A little company is all it wants –
then it will all spout out a mile!
In the garden on its own – no
sign of life is there,
But this just isn’t good enough,
I have to show I care.
I see a little butterfly, flying oh
so freely,
I give it a little wave, and it
smiles so very gleefully.
It flies around so gaily, like it is
in love,
As the lonely little flower, does
suddenly look above.
The look it gives that butterfly,
is definitely of love,
While the happy butterfly flies,
magically above.
I know a friendship when I see
one – and I see one here,
The excited little butterfly flies
ever near.  
The butterfly races on and
gathers up more speed,
While, all the little flower
sees – is the boring little
But suddenly something
happens – something quite
The rain and the sun get
together, and help the
flower start singing!
Wow! What a sound. What
a feast of magic –
The sun and the rain have
given life to a flower – it truly
is fantastic.
This little shy flower blooms
up with head held very high,
And when the amazing butter-
fly sees this – it too decides to
Oh my goodness, the magic of
But I have no camera, this
magic I want to capture?
This once lonely flower, is a
very happy flower,
As both the flower and the
butterfly live aside together.
What a scene this really is,
so perfect in every way –
A little, lonely flower, who’s
depression has now gone away.
Thanks to that little butterfly,
which helped a little flower,
They now live very happily - 
in the magic garden together.          

Copyright © Darryl Ashton | Year Posted 2014

Details | Ode | |

Ode to the Andante


(Hum along, Mozart's Andante, -Elvira Madigan's theme-or dream!

Warming breeze.
A rose garden,
Rolling hills,
Mozart's Andante.
as we
are seated,
Scented perfumes,
Velvet blooms,
Vivid displays,
Mozart's Andante.
So sublime,

Copyright © Julie Grenness | Year Posted 2015

Details | Ode | |

Ode to Maggie

Today I whispered my fears to you --
Wrapped my arms around your hard body
Scales tickling the underside of my arms
You've been keeping my secrets 
     since I was ten
You were barely as big as I 
     now behemoth 
You can almost touch the sky
Reach right up and greet the sun for me
I bury treasures at your feet --
Dig down deep into the earth 
Careful not to tap a single root
You've been the protector of my bounty
     for your entire life
What knowledge you bear, all for a little girl

In gratitude, as proof of Your love 
     You present to me
          One perfect white blossom

Copyright © Lori Carlson | Year Posted 2013

Details | Ode | |

Demons in the code

Petals rained down,
softly littering 
the warm dewy ground,
a thousand dead headed roses,
harvested from the
scythes remorseless swing,
I see a future, 
where human tribalism can be conquered
and it is up to human ingenuity
and science to realise this dream,
so roses can be allowed to grow,
intertwined in each-others arms,
stretching high into the air,
blooming majestically,

but we must be allowed to trust each-other,
for that trust to be made worthy of,
and for that changes have to be made,
because division is in the blood,
the green beard effect a evolutionary imperative,
passed down from our amoeba ancestors, 
over a billion years ago,

and so painful is it, 
to have reached a point, 
where we have outgrown are own biology,
like a hermit crab must outgrow it's shell,

but how do we move forward from this,
drugs, stem cell research, what's the answer,
we could be as one tribe,
a family of billions, 
if it wasn't for one lousy piece of code 
written into our program,
sexism, racism, class and xenophobia, 
could all be a thing of the past,
we could live as equals and none would go hungry,
if it wasn't for these demons, 
lurking within our genes,
but still we must look forward. 

Petals rained down,
softly littering 
the warm dewy ground,
a thousand dead headed roses,
harvested from the
scythes remorseless swing,
I see a future, 
where human tribalism can be conquered
and it is up to human ingenuity
and science to realise this dream,
so roses can be allowed to grow,
intertwined in each-others arms,
stretching high into the air,
blooming majestically.

Copyright © Oliver Gould | Year Posted 2015

Details | Ode | |

To a Flower

O flower in my garden,
You are wilting today,
But I will you pardon
As you fight the sun's ray.
You have been a beauty
As everyone notes...
You have shown us your petals
And done fair your duty,
Though you're now for the goats,
So be on your mettle.

Copyright © Julia Ward | Year Posted 2015

Details | Ode | |

The Last White Rose of Summer

I watched it as it was born in the drenching rains of spring, 
Cool condensation drops left over from winter's cold, 
As it grew and grew and finally petaled 
Into a white, but, quite young rose. 

As a child of youth, it swayed in spring and summer 
Breezes, winds and gales, heat and cold, 
Its petals enlarged and its fragrance became 
A daily delight to inhale whenever bumble bees had gone. 

Maturing, it grew beautifully, along with its siblings, 
Arrayed upon so many branches of its home, the rose bush tree, 
And provided me a diversion by its beauty from my daily 
Worries and concerns - and life's hustles and bustles. 

But alas, summer could not sustain itself beyond its appointed time 
And began fading into fall, that time of red, yellow, brown and golden leaves, 
Browning and dying tall grasses, shortening daylights and cooling evenings, 
Deep into this Indian summer, onward towards winter’s cold and snows. 

It gradually lost a pedal here, a pedal there, a pedal every other day 
And finally had but one white pedal left which I watched fall floatingly 
Down upon browned and yellowed grasses dying, leaving but its sprig 
Upon its home rose tree branch in September breezes. 

It had lived. It was bloomed and went through its cycle of days and months, 
Sunrises, sunsets, moon sets and moon rises of silver shines, 
Folks admiring its beauty and inhaling its stirring fragrances, as I had done, 
And in its time succumbed to natures laws of life and death. 

If it did nothing else, such as make a great discovery, climb Mt. Everest, 
Win Olympic gold medals, become pope in the Vatican, it did a greater thing 
In reminding me life is short; we must enjoy it now – it will be gone tomorrow 
 - This last white rose of summer. 

W.C.Hull © 2012-23-9-772 (D)

Copyright © W.C. Hull | Year Posted 2016

Details | Lyric | |

The ode to my wilting Flower

Little sibling don't you weep
We'll be together again some day
Close your eyes;go to sleep
It'll all soon be o.k
The longing for you stabbed me deep
Very soon I'll be on your way...
For us to be together like the old golden days
Now don't you fear,don't you cry,wipe those tears off your face
I have th faith that everything will soon go back to place
Mama wants you to be an ace
Make her smile;prove the world that you're not a broken vase
Face the sky, worship God
He's our most devoted guard
United or apart we will forever be...
Part of our family
With our blood in pain
Together,we will surely stop this rain
And all of us will once again
Live in harmony in our torn domain
Aunt, mom, our cousins and dad
Always wanted us to have the life they never had
Their past was very sad
But they brought us up well, for that,we must be glad
Thou the family is torn apart
The hope for a better future will never leave my heart
Aunt always said:"The good day will come"
So let's be on the guard for the rise of that morning's sun.
S. Nuno Pereira

Copyright © Stefanus Nuno Pereira | Year Posted 2012

Details | Blank verse | |

Ode to flower growing in a crack in the wall

When you believe your flowering plant
is dead
it isn't dead.
it scatters seed
in secret
and plants a bloom
in another room.

Copyright © Nola Perez | Year Posted 2016

Details | Haiku | |

MY ode to the Netherlands - Goeie moarn Fresia

radiant sun shines
laurel of meadow sage glows
fragrant flowers rise
across swooning bay
voice settled in the woodland
good morning Fresia
a lullaby flew
In the Morra nightingales
dancing in the trees

Copyright © John Beam | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

An Ode to Birth and Death

Darkness ended, Winter released her icy grip; budding crystals soon began to drip.

The Earth then tendered, its surface filled with life; Spring now wed to Summer, the
radiant rays piercing the frozen skies.

But Beauty gives way to Destruction and forests turn to tinder.

Here lies the crossroads, an Ode to Birth and Death.

A flower that slowly bloomed left stranded now in late Spring, scorched by Summer’s rays,
but oh its beauty still remains.

It lives on desolate ground. A mind unfolded, it's heart retouched.

And at last outlasted a depression that once did rule. And you the fair Demise, how will
you compromise? When we together win the prize.

Flailing futilely in a sea of lies; the Fountain of Youth was found, its waters tainted.

Perhaps it’s best not to toy with Life and Death.

The Seasons unwillingly shifting, the Sun now in full bloom, and the flower starts to wilt;

Beautiful, as death begins to set, while Summer touched the Earth.

Petals fall away like tear drops on the skin, and light penetrates in a wonderful array.

Ever growing heat, now begins to drain them of life, while petals turned to dust, carried
away in gusts.

Together fertilized, yet unaware, it only dares to bring about despair.

Death gives back again to Life; an early end to a late start.

A new beginning comes from dust and decay, as the Summer sun now fades away.

The burning skies teaming with gray.

Death takes a new form; white, blinding, crushing and consuming.

Oh but gorgeous it remains, In time, life grows again,

Coming from the wastes of a flower that late bloomed.Yet life anew begins too soon.

In Winter’s last grasp, her touch did drain, when frozen ashes did remain;

Here is life’s penultimate breath, the greatest Ode to Birth and Death.

Copyright © Mathew McKelvey | Year Posted 2010

Details | Ode | |


Mary, Mary, Mary, with your golden brown eyes and blood red passionate heart big enough to love a cruel world

A deep encapsulating emotion you give me when I see thee

Every time I see you I leave my heart behind hoping you will pick it up

So we can be together and I can let my red tears of heartache fall into your heavenly hands 

To soil the earth and warn everyone that love isn’t easy but it’s more than worth it when its genuine

Mary, Mary, Mary, there was never one more precious, soft, that feels reminiscent of what paradise looks like

Mary, Mary, Mary, each golden rose pedal mixed with just the right amount of red apples sin

To compliment your wild but at the same time sophisticated style

I never tire from the sight of you dreaming so much being next to you doesn’t even seem real

I never exhaust from lying next to you in this wild field of a world under the stars

Your burnt October lips stick to me and leave loves mark

While I pick each pedal apart

Scattering your flowers love pedals with the wind

Mary, Mary, Mary worth more than gold and more beautiful than the flower better yet she is the flower

p.s. but does she love me or love me not…

Copyright © Post Script | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse | |

Ode to Dawn Flower of Cahokia

The air hung swimming with dust motes,
throbbing with heat, wringing the sweat form our pores.
We walked forward through the soup of ages
over trampled grass marked by the passage of buck and doe.

The mounds rose above us massive, looming,
spirit hands brush our cheeks and pull my hair.
The Shaman shushes and shooes.
Enfolded in his arms with prayerful hearts;
following the parted, knee high grass;
moving tentatively upward.

Twin hawks fly overhead, spiraling in the tepid updraft.
An oval depression appears at the crest of the burial mound.
The Kings Mound. Dragon flies buzz
through the static charged ether.

“Naked, naked, do not profane”.
“Naked, naked," the hungry, curious, spirits chant.
“So long have we waited for a vessel of knowing.
So, long, so, long.”

She lay where the doe had lain. He sat as the buck sat vigil.
The Shaman’s eyes scanned the horizon.
The hawks continued their scout.
The sound of the Shaman's flute pierces the atmosphere.
Her pulse races to the cries of Kings.

“So, long, so long.”

Muffled moans melted with the whir of cicada.
With the final throbbing note of the flute
the distant memory of drums;
homage is paid.

She arose the bride of Kings;
blessed by the ancestors
Dawn Flower.

Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2009

Details | Free verse | |

Ode to Flower

Toiletries are not necessary for your beauty,
silk-sari and gold ornaments are not necessary;
o flower, in which dress you stay
your beauty speaks penetrating each cell of your whole body.

Copyright © Sayeed Abubakar | Year Posted 2013

Details | Ode | |

Saint Lucia's Tropical Soul

Saint Lucia’s Tropical Soul

Cerulean waters..
burble in the tropical murmurs,

mossy mountains stand in the distance..
with views and sight seeing 
camera lenses posted by the water's, 
crystalline edge.

fuchsia blossoms 
bud- thus opening: in the 
streaks of sunlight. 

emanating their
wistful perfume,

enticement is whisked 
about the sandy beaches.
dunes brimmed with purple 
seashells, and periwinkles.

Where then the morning ends,
with crisp plantains and bountiful
green figs, 

sliced in halves for each 
of the minority of people to share.

Copyright © Madison Demetros | Year Posted 2016