Writing Flower Poems

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Details | Free verse |
Mother Nature’s Verse

Minute after minute
Hour after hour
The poet sits
Thinking
Dreaming
Watching the blank paper before them
They wonder what their reality means
Is it sad and depressing?
Could there be a ray of light in the darkness?
Where are the angels and demons who fill their thoughts?
Are they needed or even wanted on such a day?
The window gives hope and images that become poems
Mother Nature’s unwritten verses
There for a single poet to see
Does the flower on the hill have feelings?
What could it be thinking as it sways in the breeze?
No one knows and no one cares
The poet will watch
They will think and dream
They will see what others can’t
And that flower will be the one ray of light
The one to open the poet’s mind
And the poem will be written
Mother Nature’s verse will be sung
All because of a window and a flower

Copyright © R. e. taylor | Year Posted 2011




Details | ABC |
You send bolts through my skin 
something I was never to 
accomplish with you, when I 
saw you it's like my heart sank 
to my stomach and I was in 
shock my body still my body 
heavy felt like when I moved I 
was about to fall to my knees 
you make me want to get 
inside my brain pick you up and 
take you out pick you one by 
one like a flower because I do 
love you and love you not.

Copyright © brittney lopez | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
Roses in the garden,

Roses in the world,

Barrened roses,

Roses impearled,

But now roses curled...

 

Peach roses show modesty,

Peach roses show gratitude,

However, they are often insincere...

 

Yellow roses seem to care,

Yellow roses show friendship,

However, they are often joyless and jealous...

 

Pink roses communicate sweetness,

Pink roses radiate elegance,

However, they are often unthankful...

 

Orange roses have desire,

Orange roses show their pride,

However, they are often impassive...

 

Purple roses are majestic,

Purple roses express love at first sight,

However, they are often repulsed and unenchanted...

 

Green roses are harmonious,

Green roses carry hope,

However, they are often unpeaceful...

 

Blue roses like dreaming,

Blue roses are imaginative,

Blue roses desire to know the unknown,

Blue roses are mysterious,

However, they are often elusive and unattainable...

 

Red roses are emotional,

Red roses are devotional,

Red roses are respectful,

However, they are often remorseful, sorrowful and mistaken...

 

Gold roses are occassional,

Gold roses like memories,

Gold roses are preserved,

However, they are often misinterpreted and confused...

 

White roses are pure,

White roses have innocence,

White roses are spiritual,

White roses carry secrecy,

However, they are often arrogant...

 

Silver roses are rare,

Silver roses like to grow,

Silver roses convert fantasy into reality,

However, they are often lost and uneasy,

But they seem unpredictable and mystical...

 

Black roses are mysterious,

Black roses are rebirth,

However, they often remain elusive,

They often symbolize death and loss,

But they are unpredictable and silent,

Though, they are often harmed...

 

Roses in  the garden,

Roses in the world,

Barrened roses,

But now roses swirled and twirled...

 

Although, now peach roses are lying,

Yellow roses turning jealous and browned,

Pink roses being unsweet and unthankful,

Orange roses being impulsive and compulsive,

Purple roses being repulsed and revulsed,

Green roses losing hope and harmony,

Blue roses being undiscovered and lost,

Red roses being regretful and voided,

Gold roses bewildered and confused,

White roses losing purity and innocence,

Silver roses turning black and unused,

And black roses silenced and unborn...

 

All there is to see are roses vanishing,

Roses burning,

Roses trembling,

Roses surviving,

Roses aching,

Roses battling,

Roses crying,

Roses suffering,

Roses drowning,

Roses drying,

Roses fading,

Roses trying,

Roses wiltering...

 

All there is to feel are roses withering,

In a bed of bleeding roses...

Copyright © Ruben Alejandro Hernandez Diaz | Year Posted 2013




Details | Dramatic monologue |
A Dark Fairytale

As I was chained, I breathe in.
As I was burned, I breathe out.
As I was cut, I looked down.
As I was broken, I looked up.
As I was destroyed, I closed away.
I had killed myself damaging beyond any repair.
To keep myself closed I chain, cut, burned, and destroyed what was within me, isolation my fear around me. But suddenly as I had nearly been kindled to a shivering light, something braver and stronger then I appeared and took me and held me and once again I was fixed and this is what happened; 
Suddenly I breathed in as I was unchained.
Suddenly I breathed out as my burns disappeared.
Suddenly I looked up as my broken body mended.
Suddenly I looked down as my cuts faded.
Suddenly I was opened up and my destruction was nothing more then a dream
As my knight, you entered that shadow and held me now I grow with a unprofaned radiance.
I was held once more, and my soul emerged.
I was spoken to once more, and my mind went blank.
I was kissed and my body reacted without a second hesitation.
And before I could run away once more, I was trapped.
Unlike my prison I lived in a fairytale, in were I don’t want to live this place anytime soon. What happened then and what happening now are so fair apart it hilarious.
 I’ve forgiven the past, not forgotten it. Prove never to make the same mistakes or else be locked back inside that tower I call my mind. 
Let me in brave knight, into your mysterious ways.
Let me in brave knight let me have secret passages into that world of yours. 
Let me in brave knight so I can truly capture you. 
I was as cold as ice even more then winters hail, but you with a ridged past that icier then I could have imagined is as warm as the summer sun and sweet like spring air.
For saving me, for taking my heart, for releasing me, I’ll become everything you want and then more, I’ll stand by your side and hold you like you held me and I shall be everything you need.
My sweet Knight.






Copyright © Marcedies Rhodes | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |
Two whisky for my dinner
Three Guinness for my gold
Four roses for my baby
As i sit here growing old

Some songs for the silver
A singers for the song
One hand for applause
And a softly sing-along

Four roses for my baby
And that was all she got
To tell her who I am
And to tell her what i'm not

I will send a letter
To tell her where I am
If I find the money
I will send a telegram

A Guinness for my morning
Some whisky for my night
Four roses for my baby
To make my future bright

Copyright © Steinar Gismeroy Olafsen | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse |
     Phobias
	A Bluto is not that Disney dog
	It was when a mewling 
	that I would scream 
	Should they wet my body
	And then apply cream
	
	Ablutophobia – fear of bathing, washing, or cleaning
	
	Achluo the demon that lurks
	In darkened corners
	The long toothed life suckers realm
	I am scared as the sun dims
	It seems to bare my soul
	
	Achluophobia – fear of darkness
	Acro what did they do 
	They called me acrobat 
	This will not do
	I get giddy standing on a matchbox
	Please get a net to see me through
	Acrophobia – fear of heights

	
	Agora just shut that door 
	I am staying here forever more
	Bring me food put it on the floor
	The letter box is just for you
	Don’t, Don’t,  try to get through
	
	Agoraphobia,  Fear of open spaces or of being in public places. Fear of leaving a                    safe place
	Agrap stole my feelings 
	He caught me unaware
	I am now afraid of sex 
	don’t ask me anymore
	It frightens me that’s for sure
	
	Agraphobia – fear of sexual abuse

	Agrizoo an angry gorilla I knew
	Wild as hell was kept in a cell
	As all his kind, even a timid Hind
	They scare the crap out of me
	Please let them run free

	Agrizoophobia – fear of wild animals

	A gyro is just what I need
	I will fit it to my trusty stead
	He will fly straight across that band
	A tarmac nasty throughout the land
	I cannot face the walk you see
	Agyrophobia –fear of crossing the road

	Aichmohe got in a hell of a fight
	They killed him with a pointed knife
	It will come for me just you see
	I cannot even mend his cloth
	Won’t  touch a needle at any cost
	
	Aichmophobia – fear of sharp or pointed objects (such as a needle or knife)
	

	Ailuro he lived next door 
	The bastard sits on the fence
	To me he snarls not a purr
	A Persian he is supposed to be
	Frightens the *****out of me
	
	Ailurophobia – fear of cats
	
	Algo, Away, I am pain free
	This morphine is the best
	First day of pain free rest
	Been told that it will return
	Got some gas, peace I yearn
	
	
	Algophobia - fear of pain

	Andro I’d rather be               (android)
	I am metal and plastic you see
	Electric person not man or woman
	That would be so sad
	If just a man I would go mad

	Androphobia – fear of men

	Antho the pologist got the plan
	He put concrete throughout the land.
	Not one shrub or flower seen
	Not one blade of grass green
	A flower would make me scream

	Anthophobia – fear of flowers


	Anthropo was a lonely man
	Wouldn’t mix with others so
	He lived in a cave, well just a hole
	You would see his eyes peeping out
	A shaking frame if people were about
	
	Anthropophobia – fear of people or the company of people, a form of social phobia.

	Aqua marine or even the wet stuff
	Is enough to drive me mad
	I stay in when there is rain
	Just wait for the sun to shine again
	A damp tissue that’s quite enough

	Aquaphobia – fear of water. Distinct from Hydrophobia, a scientific property that makes chemicals averse to interaction with water, as well as an archaic name for rabies

	Arach no, and know the score
	Those creepy creatures on the wall
	Send shivers up and down my spine
	Six legs and venom to drive you mad
	I am running already it is sad.

	Arachnophobia – fear of spiders


	Astra my name you would think of the stars
	My gaze goes up but not that far
	To the first cloud there in the sky
	If it’s the shape of an anvil I will fly 
	Fear grips me and I don’t know why
	
	Astraphobia – fear of thunder and lightning
	Atychi that was about the size of me
	The others would just make fun
	I was no good to anyone
	A failure of the first degree
	Nothing my goal, was all I could see
	
	Atychiphobia – fear of failure

	Auto matic I will seek people out
	To touch to play as long as they are near
	Don’t leave me in this place alone 
        A singularity is my biggest fear
	I will hold anyone you see I care

	Autophobia – fear of being alone or isolated
	
	Automat o no it’s not true how could you
	An advert that’s telling just lies
	Don’t all the others realize
	What you say is not true, put it right 
	It will drive me crazy I’ll keep out of sight
	
	Automatonophobia – fear of anything that falsely represents a sentient being

	Aviat o if you think I am going in that
	No I am not a scared ***** cat
	If we were meant to go fly
	Wings we would have from him on high
	Fold your machine and put it just so.
	
	Aviophobia, Aviatophobia – fear of flying
	
	
	
	
	Chaeto he was a Greek of old
	Bald as a badger so the story is told
	But why you say is there no cure 
	For him to grow some lovely hair
	For him it would give such a scare

	Chaetophobia – fear of hair

	Chemo therapy keep away from me
	Chemicals scare me I know they are free
	But to have them coursing through my veins
	No matter how good they are, and that jar
	The fear of everything for what they are 

	Chemophobia – fear of chemicals

	Chirop to or not too so I am told
	They stick in your hair best to be bald
	Now I find that my nails are made of hair
	Chirop is what I fear not chiropodist is that clear!!
	Just shave my head and cut my nails dear

	
	Chiroptophobia – fear of bats

	Chromo shines bright in my eyes
	The fear of all colours  I realise
	Now I am safe from a troubled day
	Into my dark room, I have found my way
	Knock when that sun has met its demise

	Chromophobia - fear of bright colors

Copyright © Ian Howard | Year Posted 2012

Details | Romanticism |
Love cannot bloom,
love cannot go on,
love cannot persue it dreams,
love cannot be what it is meant to be,
love cannot be where it is supposed to be,
if love doesn't have two hearts.

Love needs two hearts to be true,
Like water to a dried rose
makes it bloom in spring weather
with such glory and beauty.
Love cannot be true if one heart
doesn't love the other.
Care, trust, honesty and loyalty
in love it has no boundaries,
it has no color, it has no age,
like a fine wine or an aged whiskey
it grows better with time.
But love cannot fullfill without the other half.

If a woman loves man,
let her love him,
if you love me,
than love me, but if my heart is gone
and cannot be found in such relation with you
then I must halt, till my heart comes around.
If it never does show with the first light of morning,
then it wasn't meant to be with thee.
Come now, do not shed a tear for me,
a simple heathin, who cries havoc
when something doesn't go his way.
Do not cry, do not shed your one of a kind tears
for a souless man, for a heartless man like I,
but do not blame me,
if my heart cannot be found.

Love needs two hearts,
not one or the other can survive
without each other.
Love is patient, love is kind,
but with ever lover comes another.
And we will all fall in great and deep love,
be intoxicated with each other,
and our sweet kisses that God himself would shed a tear
for such beauty that still exisits.
Love needs two hearts,
you cannot have one, without the other.

Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2013

Details | I do not know? |




My Wishes are Simple


My wishes are simple,
my desires few,

to gaze upon an ocean,
and marvel at a solitary drop of dew.



My wishes are simple,
my dreams not too grand,

to feel the waves teasing my tired feet,
with no footprints left in the cool, wet sand.



My wishes are simple,
my thoughts serenely gentle, calm,

my heart resting beneath a swaying palm,

healing my being, caressed by nature's soothing balm.




Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses | Year Posted 2013

Details | Romanticism |
I am dead without my love.
It is simple as that.
I cannot breath without her,
I cannot eat without her,
I cannot write without her.
I cannot live without my love,
I am dead without my love.

I cannot prosper without her warm embrace,
I cannot think without her by my side.
always thinking of her, sharing her love I once had,
with another.
My heart breaks,
and my mind is gone.
I weap... I weap...
I cannot handle the betrayal of my once love.
I am stuck, sitting in dark corners of dark rooms,
staring at blank walls, thinking of what once was.

Her beauty,
her smile,
the laughs shared, and the tears we weaped together.
Holding hands, you and I, walking down sandy beaches,
and beautiful highways, full of love.
How we sat on park benches and kissed the night away.
I cannot believe you are gone, with another.

I did what I could,
I loved you endless time on my hand.
Our time spent together was special and near to the heart.
Do not expect for that happiness to come again.
For that has sailed, to far East, to the rising of the new day.

But, I cannot live one more day without my love.
For what I had with her is unexplainable and beautiful beyond definition.
I have seen the wayward signs point me to the direction of you.
But when we see each other, you don't spare a passing glance,
as if I was a ghost, an invisible man, like air.
That is when my heart breaks, torn in two, I cannot see me without you.
Walk with another, shall I go, now this without you.

For she is my everything, beauty and nature.
She is my rose, my violet, my nightingale singing her songs, in the twilight.
She is the sky, the sun, the moon, the trees, the grass.
She is everything to me.
She is even the summer storms and Winter blizzards that roll in and destroy,
beauty and harmony.

I cannot live without my love, for she is my one and only.
I do not like to beg, but love me once again and live with me forever.
For you know and I know, and the world knows,
That I cannot live without you,
I cannot live without my love,
For I am dead without my love.

Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
Maybe I write to purge myself of feelings; failure regret disappointments that made me this harsh desert. So maybe each word a band-aid healing my soul turning desert to garden. Each line a spoonful of soil, each verse a seed, each poem flowers. How long until my garden blooms?

Copyright © Enrique Reyes | Year Posted 2015

Details | Prose |
As the petals fall from the dying rose, they softly float to the earth to be wrapped in winter's cold blanket... once again. Copyright © Cynthia Jones Feb.4/2005

Copyright © Cynthia Jones | Year Posted 2015

Details | I do not know? |
Can we run away just me and you
To an island
Don't tell anyone 

It will be fun
Just four of us; me,you,paper and pen
Or me,you,sticks and sand
Or me,you, mud and feet

We can write our poems
As we eat our breakfast & listen to the musical waking of birds
As we eat our lunch after taking summer walks
Before taking longer naps
As we eat our dinner while watching the sunset
Capturing every deep setting color to see us off to a good night

Copyright © njeri hunjeri | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme |
I know not her name, 
But I can trace her by scent, 
She has driven me into a smell-at-them game, 
And am attracted to her a hundred percent, 

Stronger than my very own Chase, 
But am unable to keep the pace, 
The scent, be it expensive, I'll buy on higher purchase, 
I just want a glimpse of her face, 

Is she a material girl in a material world? 
Who taught her to smell so sweet? 
Whatever the case I'll buy her the world, 
And place it beneath her feet, 

I spoke with the wind to reverse her scent, 
And I followed it to a mansion so beautiful, 
It is here that I'll pitch my tent, 
Till I see this angel that converted me to a beauty fool, 

Alas! A master piece, 
If she isn't a runaway angel from heaven, 
Then God must have really been at peace, 
And created her in days more that seven, 

Introduce myself I shall, 
Even if its only for a while, 
Am Leonardo da vinci, please Monalisa smile, 
But she disappears behind that great wall, 

Copyright © Billy Simani | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
Jonquils

On days when there are no poems to be found
When I drudge the depths of the murk 
I think of Jonquils.

I get stuck on those pesky flowers
And the mental image of tiny yellow and white daffodils.
I ask myself for a poem but
From somewhere else
The whisper comes:

 Jonquils. 
Poems must be about Jonquils.
You can’t have a poem without Jonquils.

I need to write about
speak about 
sing about
write some more about

Jonquils.

So, as a poet who has learned from other poets, I research.

Narcissus jonquilla:

A native of Spain and Portugal.
Grows in open spaces and forests and at the edges of lawns
Like little poems
that push their way up through the late spring snow

Vast white sheets spread for acres
On my desk top.
I stare at them and wait for a poem to happen.
From the corner of a page
A yellow tipped bud appears—

Jonquils.
And nothing else.

Copyright © Robert Keim | Year Posted 2014

Details | Sonnet |
The flowers’ aroma floats in the air;
Happy bees kiss stigma all day long;
Attracts butterflies here and there,
Surround blooms with their love song.

Though thousand flower fragrances,
Fulfilled the mind of the daydreamer,  
Are unmatched with the ink essence;
Only a few people became ink creator.

Search the steps to stay nearby ink bowl,
Close to you who prepare nice artistry
Where a soft scent piled in my soul.

Forever, will last the smell of poetry;
Yet, life doesn’t belong to the owner  
The body will vanish when time’s over! 

Copyright © Xaysouvanh Phengphong | Year Posted 2014

Details | Verse |
SWEET FLOWER OF PARADISE
Grace ,a very sparkling jewel,
a ring of gold,brings day out of
night,sweet from bitter ,glory
out of shame and turns pebble
to pearls,weakness into strength.
This sweet flower of paradise
dwells in the heart that empties
itself of self.Prayer brings forth the
sweetest blessing,where God speaks
peace and fills with joy.No mercy
is too great for Him to give ,no
mercy too little for we to crave.
Lay hold on mercy for how strong
is grace,and how victorious over sin
From Thomas Brooks writings  in Spurgeon’s
Smooth Stones 
*A Phrasis is a structured verse where the poet uses selected prose phrases of another writer’s  to compile  unique poetry therefrom as a tribute thereto,the word phrasis is Greek for phrase.



Listen to me read this phrasis verse of mine on youtube under name ichthychiro

Copyright © Brian Strand | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
Come walk with me now
through the autumn trees
Hold my hand or not
Hear my voice if you please

Through fallen leafs in the mud
Painted beautifully red and orange
Fall is the season
That sparks thoughts of love

Air smells urgent
Stings our delicate skin
Come share this with me my dear
To you my heart I give
Stray not from my side
However long we live

If we so chose 
We'll build a house
High atop the trees
Make this forest our home
sharing our lives and souls

I will hunt for food
You can tend our garden 
Societies machine
no longer a present threat

At times we may hunger for our past
life’s we used to own Left far behind
Never shall we be alone
Or want for anything more

Come walk with me my love
to places far away
come stroll along the path I've made
 for only you and I

Come be with me my darling
under the autumn sky



Copyright © Cole Pew | Year Posted 2014

Details | I do not know? |
streamlining trough the objections life presents
the flower had a leaf but it repents
sunshine through thou darkness while we blend
the mixer destroys the suspect
hopping hop-hop
raining down with tone
it struck his mind with bedazzlement of
and grabs him out of cinema life
swimming on the checkered floor
splash-splash lick the platoon
fingers rushing through the unknown matrix of men
life by machine while the bird songs bend
ghost grass fling for the sarcastic wind
mumbling back pain eyesight on the swing
his name is clustered from surreal things
mind the oblivion of fascination the holocaust of nature 
fly-fly cause what happened left
humbleness has reached a point of gloom halo
why not this parking lot?
broom-broom as she swings wildly into the horizontal 
distortion of imagination, jack-in-the-box had some luck
feet spindle until air hides
we are to ask the narrator
no comment from the flower gallery
magnetic shadow finds no pole
drunken trolley is the only one to catch the sun
stitch the camouflage great oceans of the world
a neutral switch no coding attached
crook robbing the forest from its daily affairs
moonlight blues for the wolf of man
revolting against integrated logic
they all shake heads as he drives down somewhere
grudging through the city y-tic
tic-tic-tic we turn left from right
the bass coughed man has a trailer to his mind
absolutely nothing harass the plane with a face underneath

this is universal undercoat

Copyright © Petrus Jansen | Year Posted 2006

Details | Light Poetry |
O flower! Attired in pure natural innocence,
Thou are ignorant of thy enchanting aroma,
Unaware of thy Charm,
Dances freely with flirtious breeze,
Hardly cares about world's joy and sorrow,
Thou are neither selfish nor altruistic
Full of Self yet so Selfless!

I am fascinated by your tranquil disposition,
At dawn thou bath in sun's rays,
Flirt with colorful butterfly,
Fall a deep sleep in afternoon warmth.
Enjoy melodious sound of chirping birds

Thou lover, up there - the sky,
Gazes you with intense admiration,
He kisses you tenderly through his winds,
Thou spread thy fragrances in his arms,
He grows enamored of thy presence, 
What a beautiful bond!

Thy fall comes - autumn arrives,
Still thou remain full of life as ever before,
Not worried; not shaken a bit 
Simply falls, without uttering a
Single word to your lover to save you
from getting withered.

Thou unconditional acceptance is captivating,
O soft hearted beauty, thy passive life is 
Exquisite treasure of green emotions.

Copyright © Reena Choudhary | Year Posted 2018

Details | Rhyme |


There’s the potted in fertilized
for better growth before death, rose. 
Firm right in while I word a line. 
Heard from my end with the headphones. 
La, la, la, la
la, sprout my pod. 


I worm for mine fore’ turf am I.
Too green from spray, that is hell on. 
Streep, Hawn. Seen conned and perked for life. 
Bouncy eyes, as I watch. Hello.   
Plastic burning. 
Seven-thirty. 

Copyright © Normie Payton | Year Posted 2018