Young girls all wish and pray for the day they grow and can become big.
Strong enough to carry the gallon of milk, tall enough to ride the Rollercoaster, beautiful enough to date the boy next door.
But, there is a risk that comes with blooming.
Flowers picked and preyed on, humans feasting on their beautiful and stealing their innocence. As you get older, they will use you for your body until all that remains is a shell of a human, a mere existence of what used to be.
So, dear girl, keep your barbies close, and allow dad to carry you in when you fall asleep in the car. There is a risk that comes with growing up and becoming beautiful
IN AN OF A ONCE WILTED FLOWER BLOOMING AGAIN
Hey, paper flowers
Don’t grow
And love is not
A fun plaything:-
You tickled my heart,
And I giggled silly tears;
You then reeled me in
As I feasted on your sweet bait;
Then, you left, leaving me like
An old cemetery: full and lifeless:-
Now I ride a roller coaster of emotions
Up and down the tainted rails,
Life all so often travels:-
However, companions of pain and fear,
Are ceasing to be old road dogs,
Without whom I can’t survive;
And you will soon become
A faded keloid, my heart
Once tearfully bore:-
Now blooming
In the healing garden
Of passion, I fragrantly grow;
Waiting to be plucked and watered
In a vase of true and everlasting love:
May my given love, nourish your growth:-
Love is all the moments spent with you like flowers blooming you make everything feel so true.
Love is all the kisses from you like the rain coming down, beautiful like a new morning.
Love is all the smiles from you, they make each moment feel new.
Love is all the joy you bring you make every day happier.
Love you.
sometimes i sleep so long i forget to eat.
i think it’s supposed to hurt like bruises blooming purple on my skin,
so i press my thumbs against the moons under my eyes like checking fruits for ripeness.
my room has began collecting things:
half-drank glasses of water and trash spilling out the bin.
my teeth fall off every night in my dreams.
june creeps in quietly and it comes in every shade of blue.
i numb myself to avoid every thought but you.
i keep leaving my curtains closed the whole day
yet i ask myself where are the sun rays.
i just keep hoping this will all just fix itself.
while you’re out there living your mornings im drowning in my own dread.
maybe tomorrow it’ll be august instead.
maybe tomorrow the rotten fruit will be dead.
Lovers
Ever
Fall in blooming love,
Need brain monitors, surely
Romance human dance.
Memories of a future that never came to be
Are in bloom even before midday
The beauty of their petals is so perfect
That it seems slightly mocking
The future promises nothing
The petals say, any future
Is no more than a weather forecast
An attempt to peer into events that could not happen
To claim knowledge of them
Efforts to tame the wind
Suffer a well-deserved collapse
Nature does not like know-it-alls
It would rather perish than be known
The same is true
For any individual future
The horizon of expectations
Becomes simply a horizon
With no hint of proximity
To the sea and the sunlit beach.
One leaf on tree waiting for company
Today was thirty-five degrees,
But cherry trees were blooming
And daffodils have opened,
Right on time, I am assuming.
The sunshine helped offset the temps
So blossoms felt that yearning
To cover all the branches
As the season’s slowly turning.
Most folks were bundled up and yet,
Some short sleeves started showing,
On those who did not mind the fact
That biting winds were blowing.
Since springtime has arrived, it doesn’t
Matter if it’s chilly,
For Nature’s plan does not let
Sprouting happen willy-nilly.
Occasionally, there’s a frost,
But most plants keep surviving
And soon enough, some warmer days
Will keep them gaily thriving.
The city looks so pretty now
And it’s just the beginning,
Yet everybody out there
Couldn’t stop themselves from grinning.
Lovely to see apple tree stand with blooming! Full of cute white flowers!!
first bud blooms shyly
opening to nature's light
curiosity
You Can See
The Transient
Beauty In Fresh
Blooming Roses...
You Can See The
Majesty In
Mountains
Majestic!
Ahh... Purple Roses
Even Mountains
Live For Sand...
And The Beauty Of
The Stars Are Ever
Forming, Are You
Watching? Are You
Waiting? All Will
Fade, To Soften
New.
Beauty Of All Size
Time Irrelevant...
Made Relevant
By Choice,
For Salvation.
For Saving
Beauty's
Sake...
No Obligation.
-Gray Squirrel
03-08-2026
The earth was dry, the heart was cold,
Silent dreams lay tight in hold.
Beneath the dust, a hidden seed
Waited for light, for rain, for need.
Softly, softly, the warm rains fell,
Like whispered truths no tongue could tell.
Roots grew strong in the quiet night,
Leaves reached up without a fight.
Blooming… born from pain,
Blooming… after rain.
The sun arose in golden flame,
Petals answered to their name.
What once was bent began to rise,
Color broke across the skies.
Blooming… still and slow,
Blooming… learning glow.
No shout, no trumpet split the air,
Just patient hope and tender care.
From broken ground new life was born—
A crown of light from tattered thorn.
Blooming… brave and bright,
Blooming… into light. ??
Blooming with joyful zest
triumphant harvest is assured by God's delight
surely blest…
As blossoms glow
good works cheer hearts midst kindness' flight
smite woe…
Indeed
sharing what's right
freed…
Blooming with joyful zest
good works* cheer hearts midst kindness' flight
freed!
*Ephesians 2:10 For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus unto good works, which God hath before ordained that we should walk in them.
February 21, 2026
10th place, "Let's minichu on flowering" Rhyme Poetry Writing Premiere Contest
Sponsored by Mohan Chutani; judged on 2/26/2026
Born in the shade where the cold roots creep,
a bud stayed small in the soils deep sleep.
Others rose early, all petals and praise,
while it stayed twisted through endless days.
Whispers called it a withered mistake,
a bloom too broken to ever awake.
Yet cracks in the darkness let one truth through,
the rarest flowers bloom out of view.
When dawn at last brushed its quiet face,
it opened slow with a fierce, strange grace.
Not meant for gardens that bloom on time,
its beauty waited, then struck sublime.
Love in bloom,
as spring arrives —
head over heels
with rose-filled vision.
New flame,
puppy love,
butterflies flutter
and tickle my ribs.
A flower-field floods
my foolish head —
my heart skips
at your almost-touch.
It must be
written in the stars.
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.