Best Buttercup Poems
BUTTERCUP
hope life is like a buttercup
cos this old fool does care
if i was there I’d kiss you but
you might object "how dare"
perhaps I shouldn’t call the tune
and bring you to my sight
attraction brings the moth too soon
if I don’t employ it right
patience like a cattle dog
who lays there in the shade
connected not, just like the frog
before a prince was made
Francine made me do it:
Don Johnson 15-4-11
Across the wide meadow of verdant green,
splashes of pastel pink waved in the breeze.
One of the lovliest wildflowers I've ever seen
appeared to ebb and flow like restless seas.
Delicate, the buttercup, its veins finger-traced.
This wildflower beauty with nectared center
stands patiently waiting with an upturned face,
welcoming pollen seekers with, "Please enter."
Enmass they flourish as a grand gift of Nature.
Growing in profusion, untended, they live and die.
They've inspired artists to paint their portraiture,
and innocently open their petals to the butterfly.
April 12th, 2017
Ode to a Flower(s) Contest
Shadow Hamilton
Poems creep in like spiders, capturing me in web so fair.
Poems slip in like mice, sticky traps holding them in place.
Poems prance in like majorettes, throwing batons in the air.
Sci-Fi dances around in my muse’s brain, taking all the space.
Poems twirl around my dendrite highway, waking me up.
Poems shake me off the bed, landing me squarely on the floor.
I hear the last line, and I think “was that word buttercup?”
Poems laugh at my consternation, their humor I deplore.
Poems slide by on the wings of undiscovered pretty galaxies.
They jump into my head at restaurants when I cannot find a pin.
Poems dive bomb my bed at night, witch-like in their hex-ease.
They throw themselves at me in bathrooms; I simply cannot win.
I do the best I can though, amusing poems in ways I do not dream.
They throw down words I have never heard, and so I look them up.
Poems own me, taking me hostage in a pretty hostage stream.
Did you hear that? I have to know. Was that word buttercup?
I am Buttercup, swaying in breeze
Ah Ah Choo! Something's making me sneeze.
Just hold on...now I see
It's that darn Busy Bee
And he's swapping my pollen for fleas.
for 'Are you Bugged'...and in response to James Fraser's 'Pollen Calling'
BUTTERCUP
Buttercup wears a cheerful bonnet;
Five yellow petals of sunshine on it;
Always smiling - sunlight in yellow -
Leaves us joyful, yet quite mellow;
This meadow child in brightest of hues
Winks at us through morning dews.
buttercup of gold
in cracks of basalt and sage
the yellow dress shines
you are my brazen buttercup
for you, little wee frogs will jump up!
a new spring has sprung
as you look into the sun,
and await your best friend, Miss Tulip!
Born of bone,
born of flesh,
born of blood of man.
Return to earth the day you die,
return to mud and sand.
The in between you sleep and dream,
and want for what is not.
Either way you have no say,
your stuck with what you've got.
Choose to smile,
choose to frown,
is the only choice your given.
Suck it up buttercup,
this is whats called living.
A single drop of dew
caught in a buttercup
Provides a welcoming d
first drink of the day
to Ladybugs Dormouse
and busy shrew.
Peter Dome.copyright.2013. July.
Spreading my derriere her wet tongue..
Twirling within circles so deep, her love.
BUTTERCUP
Like a flower
I have grown
Thanks to you, my love, my own.
Like the sun your light has shone
On me and mine
In your warmth divine.
Like a flower
I began to bloom
With your loving care I felt better soon.
Like the rain my tears fell
Until you gently touched me
Your silent love to tell.
And like a flower
I soaked it up.
Yes, now I’m your Buttercup!
By: Carole O’Terry Duet
Copyright: 3/1/2020
“All Rights Reserved”
buttercup
under her chin
making a wish
AP: Honorable Mention 2023
Nature runs wild,
Precious as gold,
Through woodlands,
Over fields,
Happily spreading,
Expressions of art,
Meadows blossoming,
Buttercups flowering
Dressed in her yellow attire,
Charming and dazzling,
Uplifting and cheerful,
Enthusiasm of colour
Making us feel,
Like children again,
Bursting into song,
Singing,
The hills are alive.
With the sound of music.
Our youth is renewed.
Wendy Jae
...paper dolls
...afternoon tea with friends
...belly laughs
...as good times lend a hand
...dressing up
...princess on parade
...buttercup
...daddy's favorite name
...precious days
...in the make believe
...reality at bay
...the innocence of dreams
Buttercup Comes Home
Buttercup comes home each night with different partners
She is a factory girl, thinner than a string
I guess she manufactures lovers, one after another
It’s hard being married all the time
She tells me she needs her freedom. She needs her space.
That is her mantra. That is her bible
Buttercup comes home these days
And I’m not there
I found another Buttercup
For what it’s worth
Her name is Bertha
She’s bigger than a house
It’s hard going out