Best White Daisy Poems
Not complaining, choosing to flow with the breeze
Not complaining, finding true thanks on my knees
Not complaining, no one promised me easy
Not complaining, grooving on a white daisy
I see you seeking cellular validation
A selfie world that's your own fabrication
Your mind is spinning, hope is on vacation
Will you find salvation?
Not complaining, content to just pretend along
Not complaining, disfunction blending with my song
No complaining , unsettled games we both play
Not complaining, a price I’m willing to pay
I'm thinking somewhere in a different time
We will find truth, without popped pills with wine
I'm praying at the the end of the line
you might be mine
Not complaining, tripping with you at midnight
Not complaining, bathing in your gorgeous light
Not complaining, you are amazing to me
Not complaining, if you're the last one I see
Riding on my Banana seat
Bike wheels spinning to the beat
I loved you being close to me
feeling so free
Not complaining, when you hitch hiked away
Not complaining, I did know you wouldn't stay
Not complaining, choosing to flow with the breeze
Not complaining, finding true thanks on my knees
Not complaining, even though my heart’s breaking
Not complaining, you're the mistake I keep making!
For John Hamilton's End of The Line contest
December 12th 2017
It`s summer and it`s pleasing
in 12 shades of green.
I think i`ll go fishing
or maybe just dream.
In a trillium forest
by a trout lily stream,
or a white daisy meadow
where the waters run clean.
It`s summer and it`s pleasing
and i`ve no where to be.
With my shovel and pail
think i`ll go to the beach.
and walk through sand castles
dip my toes in the sea,
roll in the swells
that blanket the deep.
It`s summer and it`s pleasing
and it`s good to be free.
just to hang upside down
like a kite in a tree.
Fall through the sunlight
softened by leaves,
drop to my hammock
with a good mystery.
It`s summer and it`s pleasing
and i`ve no want or need.
Think i`ll sit in my garden
as the glories drop seed.
Rejoice with the bluebird
high atop the elm tree,
lie back in soft clover
point to clouds with my feet.
It`s summer and it`s evening
no desire to sleep.
On a night strung with diamonds
over firefly blinks.
Symphonic crickets
and peepers that peep,
as a moth named Magoo,
bumps it`s head on the screens.
white daisy blooms
rain paints her face ~
teardrops glisten
23rd March 2023
In another time I would’ve picked orange lily and carnation
Sprinkled in some white daisy for a resplendent bouquet
Some fresh bagels from your favorite bakery by the station
With those,smiling,I would’ve knocked your door on your b'day
Instead,clichéd notes of wishes, I post on social media today
Written on 07/17/2016
Contest:'In Another Time' by Ir0nic Zink
WIFE SEEING HUSBAND GROWING OLDER
Water steals your reflection when you are young
And as fast as cat’s feet on a glass roof.
The ripples replace none of your image -
Waves chiseled from moving marble hide the boats coming home.
Through the thickness of your old age I sometimes see your young guy hiding inside
The massive greyness of March in the city.
Gods sense of humor at pathetic human activities
Is a liquid mystery.
This starlit world is a lonely place and it misses you -
The waving Milky Way waiting for you to swim in, waist high
Through the radiant white daisy stars, across the soft black meadows.
asks the white daisy
found the answer - and ate it -
conquest or capture
made no promises
it flourished reckless and wild -
the ones who have smelled
04.06.2023
Anne-Lise Andresen
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Contest, Show Don't Tell, Tell Don't Show
sponsor, Dilly Dally
6th place in the contest
My breath was the first to go
Stolen by the thieves that have attempted to steal so many others'
The thieves that have tempted the honor of the most noble defenders
Stolen from me with no preparation and accompanied by immediate deprivation
As a white daisy deprives the soil from which it thrives.
After, my body
It seems to simply elope into the grasp of the invaders
My shell and comfort, with security in tow
How willing it surrendered itself to the worthy crusaders
As an addict, unwilling to deny itself.
Not even my mind could escape the pillagers
Unknowingly becoming entangled in the traps
Gone without a fight
It had become engulfed in a net set by self betrayal
As a wondering Salesman, lost in familiar streets.
The most surprising, my heart
I glanced to see that I was still maintaining
And the pump had ceased
No longer kicking, lifeless, hopeless
Unwilling to lose the battle, it had forfeited the war
Stopped before the assailants laid weapons upon it
My heart, with pride, refused to be taken
As a captain, down with his ship.
Alas, it was the prize that was sought
Others, casualties.
How am I upright?
The adrenaline from the assault leaves me lurking
Once the rubble is left to fodder and the Kingdom reduced to ruins
I crumble
My last thought: Was the skirmish worth denying them their prize
Now two parties
Crippled and fruitless.
cream rose white daisy
blue jay on a cobalt sky
heart stopping sunset
frog on lily pad
diamonds on a starry night
gold butterfly sun
tree bark gingerbread
apricots and honey dawn
raspberry rose finch
little white daisy
trapped within a tangled vine
yearning to be free
It’s early and the small town has thrown back it’s duvet of darkness and it is light.
It is slowly and with the quiet of morning beginning to stir.
Morning! Morning!
Cheery greetings from unknown passers-by.
As warm as kisses on my cheeks greet me on each street.
My trainered feet trip along the pink-stone edged pavements.
Cottages, pastel-coloured, like Edinburgh sweet rock, line the street.
Walking, walking through the small town.
To move the car before the ticketing witching hour comes round.
A light breeze touches my hair and gently strokes my face.
Darling silver clouds swim across the blue, cross-hatched by white swans in flight.
And in the park happy dogs chase and race and bark.
I pass by stone walls, home to pink and white daisy flowers.
Tiny ferns and lichens in nooks and crannies and old stone steps.
Brightly painted doors flanked by pots of flowers and kicked off and one fallen over wellie boots.
And people say,
What an inconvenience it must be, having to move your car every day.
You must buy a house with a parking bay!
But then my morning walk would be no more.
And with it gone all the joy of meeting those smiling ladies in tweeds.
With their small dogs on leads.
And little boys and girls off to school,
And laughing young men in pick-ups going to work.
And I wonder.
How can private parking ever compare,
To being part of all of that loveliness just out there.
I’m a simple white daisy
In a world that’s rough
I don’t have thorns
I am not tough
I see with my yellow eye
The smiles passing by
Wishes, upon wishes, I try
To brighten the day
Keep the smiles alive
Without a word to say
I’m a simple white daisy
Heidi Sands
7/3/19
Once I plucked a pure, white daisy,
And pulled its petals one by one.
“He loves me,” I spoke. “He loves me not.”
I pulled each petal, and they dropped to the ground.
I pulled them until the very last one was,
“He loves me not.” And it dropped, too.
Soon the flower with its petals plucked died.
It became dust and one with the earth again.
I remembered, “He loves me not,” with sadness.
But the daisy was gone now, and so was the last petal.
The last petal’s divination died, too,
When I realized that it was a Pagan trick.
The daisy is meant for friendship, not for a curse.
But the innocent flower, the daisy, died.
It died to prove the omen false. But it lives.
The daisy lives and soaks up the sun.
It lives forever with petals intact;
And forever it speaks, “He loves you.”
Written: November 05, 2023
________________________________________
Amidst spotless linen rosebuds
I observe you blazing a fire
In the core of a volcano's lair
slithering
glissading
laughing
Queen of the Sun,
Queen of Earth
angels shielding you with their wings
to quench one's thirst
for my vital breath.
A warm deluge of your embrace,
sets my skin into full bloom-
a mellifluous anemone aroma,
and marigold of whimsey bloom
wandering to my cynosure edge
the scorching primeval route;
you leave lush roots for our offspring
to nurture demesne orchards.
On the sands of your sunken tracks,
where conflate ponds
xerox the gleam of fire;
and trees widen limbs,
to embosom
sapphire sky for spring
and descry a year's cornucopia,
of succulent, velvety fruit.
The language of love is wordless.
See that simple yellow and white daisy
in the green meadow?
Go uproot it,
snatch it from its perfect setting
that place Perfection made for it.
Now it is in your hand,
it is still lovely,
but something is missing,
something is wrong.
it was never meant to be manhandled,
even with appreciation or love,
that kind of love is possessive,
selfish, mistaken.
You must seek to understand it,
describe it, know it.
You must investigate, and dissect
its beauty
and so you begin to pull is apart.
petal by petal
you despoil it,
until the flower no longer exists
as a whole vision,
as a perfection of form.
It is only parts now, it is only words,
words for love,
and not love itself.
Breathe in the buttery sun
Warming the naked skin
With laughter from the wind
Songs of gladness filling
The senses with whispers of
Imagination, inspiration
Wade in gentle pools of liquid
Tenderness, faded by
Waves of sensitivity, graceful
Flowing flames of kindness
Beckoning from the heart
Whispers of soothing thoughts
Welcome the dawn with a smile
Hopeful and alive, desire
Flames of faith enlightening
Coloring the feelings in melodies
Rich with compassion, like
A brilliant sense of affection
Reach out to the stars, the moon
Flickering, glimmering
Enriching the heart with truths
Sung by shimmering light
Pulsating across the darkness
In flavors of innocence
Walk in the forest, vibrant hues
Of faded olive and emerald
Comforting green blazing love
Like a fresh, crisp glimpse
Into the spirit’s enchantment
Starving the dark dread
Dance in the shadows of light
Painting ridges on mountains
Arousing truth in the brilliance
Of a blushing rose or
A tender white daisy reaching up
To smile tenderly from its eye
Taste the influence of dawn
The sigh of a tangerine sun
At dusk, when light fades
Into the fireflies and moon
Which light up the night
And glow beneath silent dreams
Nature awakens, enriches, creates
Ponders, doubts and praises
With its moist leaves and amazing
Prayers, lingering on oaks
Pines who sway hesitantly beneath
Rainfall and dewdrop, waltzing thankfully
I’m thankful for creation
Isaiah 45:18
For thus saith the LORD that created the heavens; God himself that formed the earth and made it; he hath established it, he created it not in vain, he formed it to be inhabited: I am the LORD; and there is none else.