Best Marigolds Poems
I am but a weed
In God's flower garden
Humbled to exist
Even if not as red as roses
Not as tall as sun flowers
Not as warm as marigolds
Not as thrilling as lillies
But I am wonderfully and fearfully made
I invite imagination
And like a falling star
Children pick me to
Blow blue breaths wishes upon
And I fly into whimsical wind
To deliver the messages of hopes
I start my journey as gold and then
Turn white just before my flight
A prize in disguise
I am a dandelion.
Sing a dirge with crowns of marigolds.
But not for me for I am much alive, my dear.
Listen to the lovely lively rain,
Pitter-patter on the thriving flower beds,
Let them grow in all hues and shapes.
I’ll pick the marigolds’ white petals.
See, I love you not, I love myself.
Next autumn I’ll fill my lovely cottage
With the most beautiful fragrant narcissus.
just a scribble
The flowers stand firm within the cool wind
The stems don’t break in two by the quick breeze
They’re lovely looking, a fragrance they send
The sun shines down on the flowers with ease
Their beauty glows high, kind-of brings a tease
These browns and yellows are sure delightful
The rains make the flowers grow quite prideful
They are Marigolds, a real lovely sight
The life of these flowers are meaningful
Someday they’ll surely stay in the sunlight
Russell Sivey
merry marigolds,
and I, meditate in sun.
to a big, lawnmower’s vibes
4/19/2022>
Marigolds, bright spot of September,
When all around is drooping limber,
As life in accord with His plan remembers
To prepare itself to sleep.
You perk in yellows and burnished gold,
And tell us winter won't really blow cold,
And we won't truly grow old
As long as you are there.
You hold us in our dreary nature,
And our attention to you capture,
As holidays, parties and glories enrapture
Hot summer hearts with hope.
Moon sparks float above the
meadow of golden blooms,
mimicking marmalade
mists of healing, and the
magical muse of a
mellow field, adorned with
mosaic hues of hope.
Sometimes wonder arrives softly,
a small turning of the world
you sometimes miss~
like how marigolds hold sunlight
long after the sun has gone,
their petals warm as if remembering
something the rest of us forgot.
I walk past them
and feel the air shift,
a hush,
a widening~
as though the ordinary
has stepped aside
to let the holy breathe through.
And for a moment
I am nothing but eyes,
nothing but awe,
standing in the soft gold
of a flower that never learned
it was small.
Harold loved marigolds, his favourite flower
One day he ate some and they tasted quite sour
So that was the end
Of his passion, my friends
After that, only roses with carrots and cauliflower
© Jack Ellison 2015
Waking up, I was blinded by the radiant, yellow sun rays;
I witnessed with awe a splendid sunrise
rising over a field of marsh marigolds...
more astonished than a true believer, I praised Him twice!
jerry’s marigolds
the magnificent seedlings
remembering him
marigolds
San Clemente*
and the sun that is
opening
we will lose ourselves
before they find us
in the eternal searching
for ourselves
(and the mind again
steps over us)
did you recognize the happiness
Ahasver**
marigolds
(like an epoch)
San Clemente
and I am bowing
*In one lateral chapel there is a shrine with the tomb of Saint Cyril of the
Saints Cyril and Methodius who created the Glagolitic alphabet and Christianized
the Slavs.
**Wandering Jew; the name Ahasver is adapted from Ahasuerus the Persian
king in Esther, who was not a Jew, and whose very name among medieval Jews
was an exemplum of a fool
/from wikipedia/
Marigold
In a kingdom full of honeysuckles
Remembering many lavender, silent protons
The moon-flower laughed
I am shorn of their handicraft
I awoke and flung spikes of the cactus
Remembering many grand flora, ferny embroiderers
And so you came gently purring along the grasses
Still is whirring, still is whirring
As of someone gently transferring, transferring
I heard a verbatim, muffled obtaining
And the hollyhocks never cottoning
Much I marveled the bamboo foxglove
As crab grass pushes and shoves
Deep into that darkness sewing
I felt compelled to sniff the mallows
In a kingdom full of honeysuckles
As the breeze through leaves against the- - -
Marigolds
4/16/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019©
A GLOW OF MARIGOLDS
Still they smile in cold November:
Cheery children warm as fire
Reject the sadness song of winter
And glow with glory like heaven’s choir.
Golden faces bright and glowing,
Fiery angels fighting death
Through the chill, grim and growing,
Of winter’s unforgiving breath.
Morning sunrise showers
momentum of gold bliss
meandering brightly at
mountain and valley’s skirts
making winged critters
marvelously dance with
mother nature’s richness.
roses and roses around
unveiling scarlet drops
echoing voices where
raindrops fall
a rally of imperfection
painted into ..
tapped touches
sudden whirling whispers
secretively drew blood
prickly feistiness thriving in
haze spun surroundings..
twinkling doves suffocating in
an angelical sisyphus halo
tender moonlight bringing
an eunoia swiftest remnant
nemesis against armies
of withering shadows..
ebullient blooming daises
manipulating fluorescent beauties
with a frantic fabricated aurora
in a frantic peony mixture
luxurious mystery somehow
reminiscing rumbling
engraved doom..
aroused slithering vines
piercing whilst communicating
spitting needles
crystalline skies snickering
above lands full of
pitiful peonies..
but..
sparkling flutter butterflies
once whispered to me
a soft hymn lullaby;
when ethereality our nature
becomes brutal uncomforting rays
whilst enchanting asters
disguise hiding the
unavailing daises ..
stars, dimmed
dwelling in perpetual
solitary cycles shewing
forth agony in pitfalls of clouds..
fragile sagacity dandelions
parched evermore
darkness grasped a bud
n plucked it from weary soils..
shall it come a time
to flee