Innocent life obedient to God
Poise without violence, greed or hate
Or any other sin of fallen man
These remnants from the Garden of Eden
An infinitude of cells covering the Earth
Making food from sunlight and water
Every day that the sun shines silently
Thankful beings open coloured smiles
Just being themselves forever fulfilled.
Talking to the plants and trees
Is like talking to God, to the air
Yet they do not understand nor care
But I receive responses from them
About longevity and strength
Patience and acceptance
Flexibility and abundance
Continuity and cyclic change
Constancy and calm
Solitude and stoicism
And the rewards of care and love.
Gardening is a religious experience
A conscious
for once
here,
my rapid heart,
can't stop
Flowers
exist,
will die
tomorrow
and
I can't
bring myself
to face
their radiance.
They die as I live
and its not fair.
I've given the clues
to wipe me out here
and for once its fair.
I never have had fun
for decades in the sun
I'm losing my humanity
and I'm so sorry for it....
I wanted to be perfect,
like the ladies so pretty
Radiantly so shining......
I'm fading like a fallen star
and I wish I was already afar...
Royal sigh of prettiness; a dreamy flame
Sunbeam stars - cream house its frame
Purples rappel down the stucco siding
Creeping phlox, magnanimous tiding
Ruby-throated hummingbirds near it
Wise flowers attend to one’s spirit
I used to dream when I was young,
I would remove all of the thorns
of the most beautiful flowers
and place them in her hair,
lovingly,
Innocence is cute, its so divine,
then you grow up not so fine,
that girl you knew as a child,
can't even remember her name,
sadly,
There's a loneliness to every soul,
eating alone in a popular food court,
they may enjoy the meal, cooked well,
but in the end, solitary doesn't taste as good,
and love declines as the demon in you climbs
and now you realize, its a tragic fairy-tale
and now the large world appears small
and insects on your skin now crawl,
The realization,
it makes you sick,
now, floating past the jetty,
the strands of her hair.....
whimsical gnome created colorful flowers as she walked
Her expressions were a delight, but she hardly ever talked
We watched her walk from limb to limb, blooms following her feet
The vines of florals she left were truthfully breathtaking and sweet.
Blue thou art; intensely blue;
Flower whence came thy dazzling hue?
__James Montgomery
Blue Flowers
Go places, get things done;
feeling orange, yellow, pink.
Going places soon, buying car.
Zoom…zoom…zoom.
Feeling mighty blessed, rest up.
Praying with fervor and speed;
Slowing down, listening to the Lord.
His house has a place for me.
This earth is not my home, however
I’m going places if He tarries, and if
it’s his will. Blue flowers, seen or unseen
set a glorious scene. I’m seen,
you’re seen…what will you do with
the next scene…zoom, zoom, rest;
be blessed, survive the test, be fruitful.
Flowers in my hair
pigtails light as air
Sequenced bows oh what flair
for a pretty girl named Claire.
Many headbands I shall wear,
count them if you dare !
And then without flowers:
Lemon tree,
Mandarin tree,
Red roses
Perfumes and butterflies arms.
«What would life be?»
i'm a small flower
a seed gifted to you by the universe
meant to grow under your care
flourish
people don't like getting seeds
they don't want to plant them
to care for them
to be responsible
they'd rather have a fully grown flower
no work, easy
put water in a vase, leave it to wilt
slowly watching it die
only watching
not interacting
as life slips away
why didn't you try to save me?
i could've been so beautiful
if only you wanted to plant me
help me grow
care
people don't really like getting flowers
flowers die
i died
why am i temporary in everyone's life?
flowers came today
my heart caressed each petal
my brain threw them out
“Spring is when life's alive in everything.” Christina Rossetti
Springtime Splendour
SPRING TIME UNDER VISIBLE WAY
Radiantly making headway
To carpet the hills with deep green
And sprinkle beauty across land
A BEE COMES DANCING EAGERLY
From midst of its honeyed perfume
To a park with flowers in bloom
To seek nectar for its beehive
BIRDS COMING DOWN EARNESTLY FREE
Are welcome to their breeding grounds
With open arms and joyful heart
Until time for them to depart
GOLDEN HYACINTH, IRIS, JASMINE, KALMIA
And many more, comely flowers
Adorn the alleys and park side
Nature`s sensory springtime pride
Fuschia petals fragrant so sweet
Lillies so thrilling white as foam of sea
Orange marigolds dancing in wind
Weeping willow with roses for friends
Elegant succulent flowers of cactus
Red flowers romantic for love
Sharing intimate words with someone you admire is like a bouquet of wild flower thrown upon the wind scattering one thousand poems of possibilities"
When the northern wind goes back to its polar abode,
chilled clouds fly away on the wings of winter,
making way for the genial southern wind to enter,
compose with the cadence of breeze an ode for spring.
The humming birds sing when the dawn’s colors burst
on the dew-drenched meadow, sparkling in splendor,
letting the spring in the air grow the flowers again.
While through the moon dust we walk the night,
lining up the garden path the flowers sway.
When our dreams serenade, we lose our words,
getting suffused with the aura of their scintillating beauty.
In summer of discontent if the love-starved flowers wither
we’ll let the remnant essence of longing grow them again.
On the canvas of togetherness we paint the yearning flowers,
even when we reach the twilight zone they will glisten
with the patina of immense joy of survival
within our inside world, we call our real home,
where in the storm raged meadow the petals may scatter.
As we learn the vibrant art of living there,
in the tree of our lives the flowers grow again.
The frost has melted, the world is hushed still,
In the soft, wet earth, a promise to fulfill.
A golden trumpet, from a winter's dream,
The daffodil awakes by a silver stream.
It shivers once, a breath of nascent light,
And opens wide to drink the morning bright.
A simple dance, a sunbeam on the ground.
Where silence breaks with a glorious, joyful sound.
Its gentle wisdom, an ancient, hopeful plea,
To mend the heart and let the spirit be.
And as the day descends in quiet grace,
The orchid waits in a hidden place.
A velvet whisper, a painted, folded fan,
A mystic symbol, beyond the mortal plan.
It clings to shadow, a ghost of moonlit air,
with roots that drift upon a silent prayer.
Each patterned petal, a spell from ages old,
A story whispered, a secret yet untold.
The orchid dreams in realms of softest thought,
A perfect beauty, by patient starlight wrought.
So let them rise, the daffodil and orchid,
From separate worlds, by separate purpose guarded.
The sun-kissed singer and moon-drawn sigh,
One to proclaim, one to mystify.
For in their blooming, the world is whole and new,
And ancient magic can once again break through.
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