Best Flowers Bloom Poems
Hoping the flowers bloom
Sifting through my day,
withered masses of an old heart
searching in the wrong corner,
dreaming in muted grays on a white background,
wandering through the garden
of my every lost dream,
hoping the flowers bloom . . .
and I get to see them
Long hours only offer relief
when I look past the walls
formed around my smile so long ago,
they are now only a faded memory
flickering in and out,
losing clarity
Then out of nowhere comes a light,
so brilliant, beautiful, electrifying
I can only stare and wonder,
is this for me to keep,
or dare I say . . . to love?
Love, now that’s a laugh
Love only finds those who deserve it
and those signs have long since
pointed a different direction
But a voice speaks otherwise
a soft tone, a sweet noise I’ve not heard
or imagined . . .
When whispers of affection from her
fall upon my ears . . . my ears?
Like I am something, somebody, and it feels good
even if it is still hard to believe
And I feel tears forming, could this be happiness
I ask, when there before my misted eyes
The flowers are blooming . . .
and I can see them
Skies so grey
Heart so blue
Flowers of the past come to bloom
Love has kissed the stems
Pain has poisoned the blooms
The flowers are black as death itself
They speak to no one
Living in a veiled garden of darkness
Shrouded in mourning
Lingering for autumns death to devour them
Flowers in waiting
Clouds dance in anticipation
The coliseum of life has another festival
Of the slaughtered flowers
Crushed back to dust
The stars above
Stare down in silence
Knowing their fate is sealed
In a billion years or so
Death shall devour them too
Where Flowers Bloom
Time stands still trapped in the nature
of my garden bursting with baby-pink peony,
golden gerbera and purple hyacinth like dainty ladies
to be watered and kept.
My heart's a garden where flowers bloom.
My garland of red roses, I give to you.
I shroud you now in all my hues
A Baby’s Breath I promise you.
And tell you that I dreamt of you.
Enter now fair stranger, from its hedge;
step into my world and behold
LOVE in colour, scented, perfumed, a maiden
Who dreams of you.
Amidst the broken woods
Sprout the flowers hued;
Under the harlequin wonders
Euphoric fairies play and wander
Sans seeds these floras arise
~ The bloom of mushrooms
If mine heart should speak, let it speak so well;
For I may not have another time to tell.
Let me say it straight; let me say it clear,
It may not be so loud but the deaf can hear.
It's for the sane to commend me of my views
And for the fools to take me as a foe;
For my word shall either be sweet or foul
But it bears the frankness of my soul.
The sheer desire for wealth or fame
I apt no more for all is vain.
It's good enough for me to see
That I've lived a life in each passing day.
When a man is young he's at his best
And a merry soul has no time to rest.
But life's like hanging on a ledge
The soul is weakened at the ripe old age.
No amount of sleep shall recompense or mend
Of a good dream lost to awakening;
So as a speeding star in a tranquil gaze
That fell so sudden before a wish.
The time that flies and makes one old
Burgeons the burdens of an old man's load.
It shall be heavier when he departs
If he'll bear the laments of a shattered heart.
Life is doomed and to cease one day;
Not a single soul can choose to stay.
Better pave a way for the saints to stroll
So that bad old serpent could tempt no more.
Then for my own sake I'll pray with them
That my soul be freed from the hell's domain.
And my heart won't dare to sing again
Those mournful lines of life's refrain.
A blissful sunset shall start to thrive
Nocturnal solace upon my head.
Then it shall be on the day I die
When flowers bloom and birds do fly.
Author: Jecon B. Nadela
Date & Time of Writing:
10 May 2014 ; 2:03pm - 3:21pm
Thanks God I'm writing again.
The toppling hyacinth,
Excitedly bursting at every corner
To show the world its colour.
The soft chrysanthemum,
A rosy brush of autumn's breath,
So stoic in their blush.
The pale gardenia,
A soft unfolding in cautious masses,
The tokens of a lover.
The quiet lilac,
Without a care for frill or grace,
Growing where it may.
The meadow shifts.
There is such blissful sorrow
In watching flowers bloom
Flowers bloom like the wind spins and the sky gets dim like the clouds roll in, to see the trees flicker and the grass gets larger and taller as the weeds grow and grow into beautiful flowers
yellow flowers bloom
in the pasture next to the road...
milk reeks bitter weed
She was a late bloomer in the love department.
Her biological time clock had been ticking for years.
Everyone wondered if she would ever get married.
Later, she started to wonder that too, and about children.
Education had given her some smarts, but only a beginning.
Time ticked and her self-worth took a big crash into oblivion.
Her only thoughts were of her childhood, punishments, and failures.
Every waking moment was spent writing down the “to do’s” for the day.
Remembering anything at all soon became impossible, after the accident.
Flowers filled the fruitful trees and gardens around her.
Laughter of children outside her window; she no longer took notice.
Overcome and shriveled, her life trying to be good enough took its toll.
What was she thinking!
Every happy person she knew had a fragrant flower germinating within.
Remembering her dreadful past must be buried; a new seed must grow.
Before long, wisdom had evolved into a family.
Laughter of her own children filled every room of her house.
Opulent motherhood brought and gave love everlasting.
Over her many years of parenting, she had two goals: Life and self-love.
Many years later, she thanked God; she let her children, like flowers, bloom.
NOTE: This acrostic poem relates to Debbie’s wise words that, “The important thing is
that we live true to ourselves and cause the great flower of our lives to blossom.” This
poem is about a woman who lived for others instead of herself, but was fortunate
enough to learn the same wisdom that Debbie spoke of in time to allow her own
children to freedom to grow and live through mistakes and success so that they were
able to be true to themselves when they grew up. (I hope I succeeded at this, too.)
Copyright January 20, 2013
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
Written for Poetry Soup Member’s Contest: Words of Wisdom
Sponsored by Debbie Guzzi
flowers bloom when you walk in the fields of my heart
all i can do is smile in the vibrant wonder of your everpresent presence
sensationalized disbelief inspires the sunshine to exhume radiance to the once sad state of forever
i enjoy the calming breeze of from the beginning of your benevolent winter snowfall to the end of the joviality of your fall
flowers bloom when you walk in the fields of my heart
with a newfound pride, i walk freely in a world that seems full of limitations
with your contagious inspiration, however, anything is possible
God has blessed me through you, and for that i am eternally grateful....
All flowers bloom to face the sun -
a stage of their growth bound to stun.
Each bud blooms with magnificent glory
til’ death ends their story.
Nature’s growth can stir beholders.
Flowers are truly smile molders.
The lowest spirits can be uplifted
by flora God gifted.
Flowers do face winter decay
but cycles bring no woe their way.
Blooms fully feel pleasure when in season
and know death holds reason.
Should no one gaze upon a bloom
it would still exist void of gloom
for all the creatures having need of it
fulfill each bit of it.
Decay and rebirth are the way
God’s seasons divinely display
temporary wonders for man's pleasure.
Joy holds each bud's measure.
You
Make me
Beautiful.
I can feel your
Eyes igniting mine. You smile, I flower.
Roses rush to my face, blush, and blossom.
It's all for you.
Delicate,
I am
Yours.
Flowers bloom in the rising sun
In the whispers of the immortal rebirth of the earth
The winter storms have passed away
Giving way to the peaceful spring day
When you think of flowers
blooming you think of the
stages they have to go through-
toget to the point of being
admired by rhe world, even
captivating a lover's eye-
as if it is waiting to be plucked and cherished eagerly.
But the ones I cherish
bloom in my heart. You planted
them there so unexpectedly.
From a seed, you planted an idea.
From a sprout, you guided me to reach
towards the sky. You water
me daily, feed my soul, nuture my
sprouts- encouraging me to
grow strong and tall.
And when I am resilient to
all weather conditions-
I bloom.
I transition into the best version of myself.
And when winter comes and
withers me away- I come
back again, each version better than the last.
You are the curator to the
garden of my soul- I will
always appreciate your decision to choose me
to plant as your beautiful garden.
Quote By Poet "When winter goes to sleep, spring awakens."
cold
white snow
nature sleeps
winter arrived
sleeping until spring
snowman now melts
flowers bloom
birds sing
spring