Best Florets Poems
You taste as if twilight were—
lavender swirling like smoke from the earth
licorice lingering with the full moon’s soft pull
a sweetness both dark and divine.
Your skin sparkles with starlight
electric and soft as moth wings.
We sip the pink sky
lemonade lakes cascade through our fingers
time unspools between our hands
while the past drinks from our open palms.
The air crackles with floating florets
each breath a promise, unspoken but heard.
If love were a color it'd be you—
violet and velvet
honey and slow-mountain dew
the universe holds its breath;
galaxies halt their ancient waltz
as they struggle to name us.
And if forever had a flavor
it would stain my tongue—
sweet, dark, endless—
a love so vast
even creation forgets what came before it.
We are the first poem ever written
and the last song left unsung
our love the verse that never fades—
Just like lavender licorice and lemonade lakes.
Out of the dark, a lambent, lovely day has dawned
In silvery brilliance the early morning is drowned
In the sapphire sky, the sun has appeared on his diurnal shift
Over the firmament the vagrant clouds aimlessly drift
Pigeons nestle with their fledglings in the eaves
Bright sunshine seeps down through the leaves
Flocks of birds take on wings for their morning flight
Like diminutive dots they eventually disappear out of sight
All around is seen spring’s mesmerizing presence
The dormant bulbs have sprung back with a vengeance
They bear blossoms of pink, purple, yellow and white
Flashing before every watchful eye a spectacular sight
Like a bride, the Earth is clad in her silky emerald dress
Around honey laden florets, the bees restlessly buzz
Every heart overflows in cheer with no tension’s trace
On every face, smile shuttles from lips to eyes
In the wind I hear the lilts of a forgotten melody
From a woodland nearby, a lone bird sounds its parody
It seems Heaven has flung all its treasures down
And the Earth appears regally decked in floral crown
Within me, all of a sudden, I sense a divine elation
Erasing from my sullen soul, all traces of vexation
Through every fiber of my being, the waves of joy rise
And my spirit leaps out in ecstasy to the skies!
Sustained by the frequent spring showers
Adorned by rosettes of dark green
They burst into dense yellow flowers
The florets parading their sheen.
They sway to sensations of pleasure
The rhythmic allure of the breeze
Then rest in the evening at leisure,
Appear every day to increase.
But soon comes the time for reversal
The petals are destined to dry,
Then globules of seeds for dispersal
To nature’s intentions comply.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
This poem merits to win for the simple reason that
dandelions are ill-treated and spoken of badly by
many people, little realizing the beauty and good points
which they have to share with us.
Placed 3rd in Richard Lamoureux's contest
© 12th April 2019
An abundance of fragrant florets
constant reminder of regrets
Although they consume the misty air
they seem stale, because you're not there
Your absence has left a hollow void
Ghosts haunt turning the mind paranoid.
Just another day without you
Oh my love if only you knew
How the guitar still strums your song
One more day alone seems so wrong
The hands of time are no friends of mine
Growing old, should have been our shrine
In your world full of confusion
Life can be full of delusion
My love for you still remains supreme
Our reunion is my last dream
Just another day without you
Oh my love if only you knew
how the guitar still strums your song
One more day alone seems so wrong
The heart craves to hear your sweet voice
but your departure has left no choice
Now only silence is what I hear
Life has no sound without you near.
Only the room vibrating with cries
Won't you save me from this demise
Come before this dancer's heart dies
Bless me with one last sight of your eyes
Just another day without you
Oh my love if only you knew
how the guitar still strums your song
One more day alone seems so wrong
Still that guy who made your heart go 'wow'
Don't say its that final curtain bow
Senorita don't forget our vow
My beloved come back to me now
Just another day without you
Oh my love if only you knew
how the guitar still strums your song
One more day alone seems so wrong
The Silent One
Simple Musing
3 November 2017
Sometimes, reflections from my mirror,
recall when I slumbered at nature's nadir,
as naysayers whispered in whiskey breaths.
Bewildered, I wandered in the wilderness,
until the mercy of verse reversed the curse.
Poetry you've always been the legacy of my heritage,
a shimmering nimbus, where my words reside by petals,
but if this was my last poem,
it would be the death of an alchemist's magic.
There would be no potion to persecute my pain,
bleeding ink of wounds would have no quill mistress.
Yet, I yearn to leave evidence of my existence,
but my narration is not as lucid as
black pigment upon white pages,
because poetic colours have their own stories.
I'm tired from hiding behind idioms,
where metaphors drip in liquid lies,
veiled within tracing lines of heartbreak.
Whilst sleeping under cherry blossom trees,
I look back upon my life wondering
what purpose summons us,
as I've lost all faith in strange dreams coming true.
I've grown up surrounded by the scent of sorrow,
forsaken in seasonal spheres of fragility,
masticating upon mourning morsels,
adorning garlands of grief soaked in rainfall,
plundering like the tears of Earth,
but even when confusion composed its cruelty,
I fought back to rise, each time I fell.
There has always been pressure
from the heavyweight of darkness,
where I screamed songs of desperation,
as lamenting lyrics resembled emotions of a falling star.
When the breeze blew away the confetti of my stardust,
my heart remained like unblossomed florets -
so I became my own poetic gardener
and planted my own blooms.
Sins of humanity plague me into a withering leaf,
turning invisible, softly settling in sinister silence.
I search for a Godforsaken garden,
where my hands can heal fruitless soil.
Poetry, nobody feels like you,
yet, it's you I sacrifice, before my heart clasps,
as the soul sinks in ideologies of faith and fate.
I can't justify shadows with excuses from expression,
I'm letting go of bitter reflections from photographs.
as it's time to heal the scars from my bloody hands.
Wishing to remain quenched, but drenched in love,
so fate can prepare a grave for my sorrows.
I can't waste time wondering if I'll be remembered,
so, I wave goodbye, floating away like a feather,
executing the articulation of my senses.
a wisp offered him a small bunch of her soul
duet of florets dandelion with lavender
purr of petals and silent reminder
fragrance in whispers and love
a window of shelter rose from her words
tranquil tender and soft they reached out
tinge of seduction and glimmer of hope
voices sore from shouting and sorrow
‘I love you from the depth of my heart’
‘my mind needs a vessel of kindness’
‘mumbling essence will heal our pain’
‘together cacophony turns into music’
calmly bespoken a hush left her lips
offered a bouquet of serene kisses
blown from faith and surrender
and the earth started to move
inaudible at first a single sound blossomed
a volcano erupted in a show of hot lava
tsunamis weaved turbulent waves
as their union overcame hardship
no scripted audition no dress rehearsal
only embers and sparks of crackling heat
mumbled desire butterflies and nectar
revealing that all will be good in the end
the two lovers threw caution to the wind
far too loud was the chorus of truth
peace sung in harmony’s tunes
serenaded balanced emotion
they smelled the sweet melody
embraced visions of sound
touched dreams in abandon
tasted promises of caress
it had started with one whisper
but the message was booming
climax repeat and crescendo
a symphony of eternal bliss
14th June 2020
Oh my Gemini wall flower,
I wonder how your buds blossom,
as fragile florets yearn for foundations,
encouraging their roots to bloom.
If I should sow you into erratic earth,
suspicious sun might suppress its love,
relentless rain may suffocate your air,
with wicked winds stripping your petals.
So I will hold you in my hands,
compassionately caress your soul.
Implant you in my heart,
so my love can cultivate you -
protecting you from the storm.
Empathetic eyes will gaze,
enchanted by your elegance,
lost within the tranquillity of
your rare radiant scent.
Oh my Gemini wall flower,
you may be a lotus or a rose,
it does not matter much to me.
Simple Musing
Silent One
12 March 2018
In sepia foliage's of falsified fantasies,
cursed by haunting hornets stinging
with honeyed painted lies,
her mind was like a matriarch of metaphors.
An inflorescent seed buried in darkness,
with a somnolent spirit rustling in onyx nostalgia.
Too afraid to spread her fragile feathers,
she lay upon a bed of black rose petals,
veiled underneath dark raven phases,
hidden behind the silence of lunar secrets,
Her soul slept like grieving ghosts of galactic graves,
repeatedly releasing wounded sighs.
Not all florets flourish
with the mercy of rainwater,
only nourishing hands can create
an aesthetic pastel carnival of confetti,
like lilac lavender snowflakes of smoky love.
Some spicy spirits are like
the marigold locket of liquid,
glowing like turmeric hues
in tamarind tinted skies of oblivion,
clearing diaphanous dewdrops
of a grainy hourglass,
spreading vintage violet wishes
in bluish epiphany skies,
disintegrating a montage
burnt to nefarious ashes,
raising amaranth pink petals
of heartfelt empathy.
There is a magic in midnight reigns,
as dawn retreats, dusk births a saviour knight,
altering twilight's twinkling tunnel
of kismet stars perfumed with sins.
Moonlight spreads a subtle silk scent
when fears fall like cosmic dust,
soothing a scarred moon soul and stars in slumber.
Not all flowers need a gardener to grow,
but all seedsmen sow to bloom an ivory aurora,
through the obscurity of ebony eyes.
Sometimes, its the simple touch of fingertips,
that lays the perfect foundations,
for a sunflower to embellish in gold.
She waits...
at that spot he promised to reach...
When the dark blue and grey sky
Lightens up to pink and pearl grey
At the moment, just before dawn
Under the huge mango tree
Besides the splendid sunflower garden
She waits for him...
With hope...
The young bright golden sunflowers
In the garden
With beautiful brilliant yellow petals
And dark tiny florets in the middle
Their vibrant faces swinging
With slow dainty movements
Towards east
Waiting
Anticipating
The arrival of 'light'
The golden glorious 'sun'
For its dazzling rays of 'hope'
As the golden ball ascends
At the crack of dawn
The magical sky radiates
Hues of yellow, orange and red
And a silhouette of birds
Fly against the gorgeous sun
At the sight of the mighty sun
The sunflowers gracefully glow,
Swaying gently
To bask in it's glow and warmth
Under the tall mango tree
Hoping to see the 'light' of her life...
She still waits...
Submitted for: Flower Or Flowers In Imagism Form Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
"For in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed." - beautifulnow.is
Autumn tiptoed in after summer.
I reminisce of the silent kiss
she left as droplets on the delicate florets
of one beautiful, bright chrysanthemum.
Her early morning tryst went undetected
until the evidence of it glistened
in the light of a sweet September dawn.
I spotted that lovely mum blushing pink
from the visit Autumn made just before King Sun peeked down
from his throne of gold on high in the brilliant sky
when he caught the goddess bidding a fond farewell
to the flower she had been deliciously romancing.
Too many times to count has Autumn visited
other flowers, leaving her fleeting touch of love
which puts a glow on their pretty petaled faces,
but each of her kisses is evanescent.
In that moment I recall, one chrysanthemum
glowed most gloriously from the silent kiss.
Briefly was #11 on 100 Best New Poems list on Oct 26, 2025
Radiant beams of Aubade,
Basking brilliant aura,
Sun is in the mood......
Ramifying fragrance of florets
And aroma of plants,
Wind is in the mood.....
Nurturing spirit into seedlings,
Blooming plants and all mortals
Water is in the mood........
Blessing us with soulmates, pals
And little ones,
Toning the ambiance and climate,
The creator is in the mood......
Bestow upon us thy commendation
Oh lord !
Glorify us with divine crotchet !!
Written on 17/5/13
Contrast - on nature #3
Sponsor- PD A
Featured poem of the week- Dec 13th, 2015
lavender florets
sway their hems to a gold wind...
as
queen bee jiggles
aisle of lush gardens
invite morn's jaybirds on flight...
coo
cooing sweet tunes
dew bathes newborn plants
evergreen their christened ribs...
from
heaven's blessings
such bright assemblage
displays lush April's glory
when
spring thrills charmed hearts
MYSTICS SPLIT HAIKUS Contest
Sponsor: Mystic Rose
4/10/2016
Lavender infusion,
Straight to the heart,
Beautiful purple,
Florets,
Aroma for life,
Pleasantly pleasing
Arousing perfumery,
Fragrance soothing,
Silence and serenity,
Calming!
My sweet
Scented elegance,
Lavender!
Taste of your kisses,
Romancing invitations
Messages flowering,
Attracting and desiring,
Sending letters,
To your one sweet love.
Wendy Jae
Each spring when winter has trudged away,
I love to drive up to my house and see my trees in bloom.
The ornamental pear tree, so tall and dignified,
is like a bride in a gown adorned with white florets.
The ornamental plum tree stands stately too nearby,
her limbs bejeweled in a myriad of amethysts.
Behind them both, the cherry willow greets me
with leafy swaying arms arrayed in petals pink.
While her lower half hangs low, the top half of this tree
reaches for the sky wearing charms of white like snow!
March 7, 2022
For Form I - Imagism - New Poem Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
March 23, 2022 for 'A BRIAN STRAND 1095' Poetry Contest
SPRING IS IN THE AIR--
sunshiny springtime
a compassionate ant calls
enjoying the bee
for clean is the air
flowers florets everywhere
crisp and clean the smells
butterflies reaping
while beautiful, wild bird quarks
whilst lit on the rock
clean air everywhere
look at me enjoying spring
spring is in the air
passionate ant crawls;
cut grass smells watermelon
smells so brisk to me
butterflies eating
sucking nectar from flowers
spring is in the air
3/5/19
For Spring Is In The Air Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Emile Pinet