Iris Poems - Poems about Iris

My Horn Iris Haiku when with my iris happened to be at IRS many surprises...

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today i bought a small bouquet six long stems of tender buds in vivid blue as luck would have it the day before i'd bought a tall and slender vase never thinking the two were destined for each other the bouquet slid into the vase like it was meant to be a rare elegance i'd rarely seen so here we are in awe admiring six irises in their graceful ballerina pose posted on April 12, 2025...

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blue is wild iris like the skies of racy clouds or berries that tempt sunshine's companion since mulberry hours of dawn when scents greeted song carefree is iris like warm wind, whistling all day lovely disarray ...

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"blind iris" my ire is i'm not Eyre to be loved mechanically molded mason maiden made methodically mad can't you tell she is a she demon not a demon is she for she frantic pray prey on dreams of dreamt of what you were and what you would like and love to be me...

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“Some Other Poet, White Iris” When I look in the mirror what do I see? I question existential questions and fiction, my eyes are the eyes of another staring back at me, perceived through the glassy tear film that separates us glides another life in a timeless place where observant, that Other watches within that strange oculum holding pen, a shadow...

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"Artificial Iris" Orwell was lurking in the background, somewhere; the dream was eerily familiar, the words and their meanings, read in Syntax, once read between pages of hardcopy in school were aptly ignored - however, our Overlords were seen not to be feared, but très cool sleep no longer offered an escape, and awake was the nightmare in electric...

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If you are a gardener who likes to mess with iris And you are lucky enough to have a winning combination No one else has every created and shown before You might be like Ralph Shreve from the Ozarks His gorgeous purple and yellow iris is named after him Shreve’s iris, best in show...

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Flags Such a delicately beautiful flower With a subtle refined and heavenly scent. It stands above the others like a tower And its sweet perfume into the air is spent. Though it doesn’t have a great deal of power It leaves most everyone peacefully content. It adorns gardens of houses everywhere And is planted in graveyards to show folks...

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I like roses, lilies, cactuses, and other beautiful flowers that display their blossoms most of the year. I like red, white, pink, and even bright yellows. I like all flowers, birds, bees, and green trees. I'm different from others, but I like myself too. God made us all to be ourselves and do our best, and like His entire creation, to...

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The Stately Iris Flower Bearded irises are tall and stately in form They grow from rhizome sculptured leaves through a storm Standing stiffly upright or curving at the tips A swollen stem where nutrients are stored at the hips Spring growth occurs, and then irises take a rest Further growth accruing very hard-pressed Leaf fans upward and roots downward in the soil Rhizomes...

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Iris Days Down there in winter In Landstrasse quarters Blankets of clouds And the streets filled with waters Darkness covers the city In the hours of night And no bird Seems to be there Or live there abide Bare are the trees That are standing beside When a candel on window appears as a bride The buildings are ancient For us to uphold Vienna, the city, Is life to be told ...

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Keep hope close (This iris reminds me) By Michelle Morris 20/01/2024 This iris reminds me To keep hope close to my heart Let it bloom and spread the Light Inspire my healing and my wholeness The symbolism is historic Nobility, trust and valour Hope and wisdom for us all As flowers hold eternal power This iris is so magical As Nature's blessings are wont to be I...

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I turned ten two days ago, I blew out the candles with a heavy sigh. You were born today, Still. Your lips inherited The reddest hue of cardinal feathers, Your rice paper skin Pale and soft, fresh as silken snow. I never knew what your eyes looked like They never opened Infinite iris colors Never to be discovered When I held you in my arms, The guiding...

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Is it a tough job? Asked the brownies and faeries that day. The elf did not answer, he was painting his petootsie away. The Iris that were finished looked gorgeous indeed. Too bad in the autumn they will all go to seed. Do you also paint tulips? A butterfly came by to say. Busy mixing paint colors, he did not...

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I noticed the wild iris in a cold morning As cold as people's faces looking to me They have been over there waiting For not being ignored by me Since falling apart from life's orbit I've met a few flowers without an expect Either overflowing with fragrance tide Or standing tall, slim with pride We are unknowns but have familiar As acquaintances meet...

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