Best Petal Poems
Pink and perfect mystery
to which I ply my finger,
she ripens so exquisitely
the longer that I linger
and fluff the modest blossom
with my gentle loving hand,
teasing, ever pleasing
so that now I understand
how beautiful the flower
that yields without duress,
blooming now so fully
in the warmth of my caress.
The thorn asked the scarlet petal,
"Why is it gardeners admire your beauty
and are intoxicated by your fragrance,
yet they fear a prick from me?"
The petal replied,
"because you are a harsh reminder
that behind everything beautiful
there is pain."
My heart resembles the fragility of a petal.
Blossoming behind metaphors within poetry.
The beauty is in the grandeur of their silence.
I portray my words for you to study my silence,
but you seem blind to how I'm wilting like a petal.
You always seem to believe it's the art of poetry.
Would you still love me if I stopped writing poetry.
Could you comprehend my timid tongue's silence,
so I bloom in your garden as an evergreen petal.
Seek my petal soul in poetry, beyond the silence.
a tender petal
dreams of becoming flower
before a hailstorm
She whispers, “He loves me; he loves me not,”
as she plucks the dewy petals off a daisy.
She thinks of the misery that loving him has brought.
Oh, but his sweet kisses. They melt her and make her crazy!
As she plucks the dewy petals off a daisy,
she thinks of a few bad times; he gave her bruises then.
Oh, but his sweet kisses. They melt her and drive her crazy!
He always brings her flowers, vowing not to sadden her again.
She thinks of a few bad times; he gave her bruises then
although there have been such good times she also can recall!
He always brings her flowers, vowing not to sadden her again.
Two petals remain; one by one each dewy petal shall fall.
Although there have been such good times she also can recall,
she thinks of the misery that loving him has brought.
Two petals remain; one by one each dewy petal shall fall.
She whispers, “He loves me . . . he loves me NOT.”
Nov. 2020
For Brian Strand's 'COMPLETELY YOUR CHOICE(46) any theme any form' Poetry Contest
Walking barefooted
along the shoreline,
in one purple sunset;
The tepid seawater
like summer kisses
on my weary feet.
I sighed...
As I took the scarlet hyacinth
attached to my rosy ears
and began to pluck each petal
One by one...
He loves me,
He loves me not;
He loves me...
The last one...
I couldn't pluck,
So closed my eyes
like a clamshell in distress;
When I opened my eyes
the last petal
vanished in my hand.
3RD PLACE
BRIAN'S SELECT J, any form, any theme
Contest Judged: 6/16/2020 7:32:00 AM
4th PLACE
N-A re-run 7
Contest Judged: 6/15/2020 9:24:00 AM
Sponsored by: John Hamilton |
Pink and perfect mystery
to which I ply my finger,
she ripens so exquisitely
the longer that I linger
and fluff the modest blossom
with my gentle loving hand,
teasing, ever pleasing
so that now I understand
how beautiful the flower
that yields without duress,
blooming now so fully
in the warmth of my caress.
I wonder, do daises tell?
Among us, who hasn't tried
More than once petals to expel?
Watch whispers of white-hearted hope
From within this circled chain;
Petaled path on which we grope.
Numbers hold this uncertain
Mystery until they're plucked
One by one. Life is taken
From each one because of lore,
To assuage the human heart.
They die to make your love soar!
Last week I cut a bouquet of flowers
from my garden and now they’re withering.
It fills me with melancholy memories
about a time when my love was new
and gently flowed within my heart.
Time between bud to bloom and death
of the once velvet petals has come too soon.
I've watched their bright colors fade
and frowned when some fell away.
It's as if their drooping faces
means their heartbeat is slowing down.
I sighed when in twilight's lavender embrace,
another petal fluttered to the floor.
I'm reminded of the childhood daisy game
and think, Will the last petal fall
as I whisper, "He loves me not?"
I hope it gently descends without grief,
but no relief will I find in its departing.
How I will mourn when at last, it dies,
leaving me with the sense of another loss.
I've held on as long as a bloom to its stem.
In the mayhem of life, I've had reason to sigh.
Memories linger inside my heart,
although my love and I have grown apart.
I am recalling each beautiful year
of the love we once had and then lost.
A tear for each one, I sorrowfully cried.
In despair, I will softly whisper goodbye
and weep as the last wilted petal falls.
Another petal falls, a barren Rose
As nature reclaims her beauty
Another one to sweet repose
The universe in fated duty
A Robin sings a farewell verse
She leaves this world, her passage drawn
With arms to clench and lips to purse
We say goodbye, now she is gone
The petal of a rose once fell
then drifted slowly through the trees.
Upon the wind it tumbled long
until it drifted up to me.
At first I saw no value there,
in just one petal all alone.
But then I stooped and picked it up,
and found that it was still a rose.
I felt its velvet touch my skin,
as its aroma filled the air.
I breathed to take the fragrance in,
and suddenly I was aware
of every moment it had lived.
I felt the roots from which it came.
I seemed to speak without a word -
that all of nature is the same.
How blind we are within this shell,
we ride along so ignorantly.
We waste our time with buy and sell
and miss what otherwise would be.
It’s hard, I know, to just let go
and not be drowned with day-to-day.
But take an invite from this rose –
and smell the flowers along the way.
a oxeye daisy
you don't love me - you love me
oh, I Love U 2
27.02.2019
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Haiku, I Love U 2 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: James Edward Lee Sr.
1st place in the contest
barely pink blossoms
Vincent’s funeral blanket
lay atop his grave
Kathryn McLoughlin Collins
July 26, 2012
The petal has floated into a new vast world
The wind of harmony uplifts the petal
The petal is drifting with serendipity
The petal is in love
Bliss is all I see, floating on winds that freed me
Dancing with others in a swooning flurry
How long will nirvana last without my tree
Time, please do not hurry
Pity the perennial
They are isolated from winds of passion
Never taking a chance, never will they see unknown beauty
Why are they watching us while we explore all of mother nature's creation
Fading, the sun relinquishes my mortal soul
Withering away, the earth is reaping me
Crumbling, winds spread my ashes into the sunset
I am ready, sweet death
Flourishing life lives
Colorful and creative
Burned away and lost