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Long Flower Poems

Long Flower Poems. Below are the most popular long Flower by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Flower poems by poem length and keyword.

See also: Famous Long Poems

Long Poems
Long poem by Ian Howard | Details


	A Bluto is not that Disney dog
	It was when a mewling 
	that I would scream 
	Should they wet my body
	And then apply cream
	Ablutophobia – fear of bathing, washing, or cleaning
	Achluo the demon that lurks
	In darkened corners
	The long toothed life suckers realm
	I am scared as the sun dims
	It seems to bare my soul
	Achluophobia – fear of darkness
	Acro what did they do 
	They called me acrobat 
	This will not do
	I get giddy standing on a matchbox
	Please get a net to see me through
	Acrophobia – fear of heights

	Agora just shut that door 
	I am staying here forever more
	Bring me food put it on the floor
	The letter box is just for you
	Don’t, Don’t,  try to get through
	Agoraphobia,  Fear of open spaces or of being in public places. Fear of leaving a                    safe place
	Agrap stole my feelings 
	He caught me unaware
	I am now afraid of sex 
	don’t ask me anymore
	It frightens me that’s for sure
	Agraphobia – fear of sexual abuse

	Agrizoo an angry gorilla I knew
	Wild as hell was kept in a cell
	As all his kind, even a timid Hind
	They scare the crap out of me
	Please let them run free

	Agrizoophobia – fear of wild animals

	A gyro is just what I need
	I will fit it to my trusty stead
	He will fly straight across that band
	A tarmac nasty throughout the land
	I cannot face the walk you see
	Agyrophobia –fear of crossing the road

	Aichmohe got in a hell of a fight
	They killed him with a pointed knife
	It will come for me just you see
	I cannot even mend his cloth
	Won’t  touch a needle at any cost
	Aichmophobia – fear of sharp or pointed objects (such as a needle or knife)

	Ailuro he lived next door 
	The bastard sits on the fence
	To me he snarls not a purr
	A Persian he is supposed to be
	Frightens the *****out of me
	Ailurophobia – fear of cats
	Algo, Away, I am pain free
	This morphine is the best
	First day of pain free rest
	Been told that it will return
	Got some gas, peace I yearn
	Algophobia - fear of pain

	Andro I’d rather be               (android)
	I am metal and plastic you see
	Electric person not man or woman
	That would be so sad
	If just a man I would go mad

	Androphobia – fear of men

	Antho the pologist got the plan
	He put concrete throughout the land.
	Not one shrub or flower seen
	Not one blade of grass green
	A flower would make me scream

	Anthophobia – fear of flowers

	Anthropo was a lonely man
	Wouldn’t mix with others so
	He lived in a cave, well just a hole
	You would see his eyes peeping out
	A shaking frame if people were about
	Anthropophobia – fear of people or the company of people, a form of social phobia.

	Aqua marine or even the wet stuff
	Is enough to drive me mad
	I stay in when there is rain
	Just wait for the sun to shine again
	A damp tissue that’s quite enough

	Aquaphobia – fear of water. Distinct from Hydrophobia, a scientific property that makes chemicals averse to interaction with water, as well as an archaic name for rabies

	Arach no, and know the score
	Those creepy creatures on the wall
	Send shivers up and down my spine
	Six legs and venom to drive you mad
	I am running already it is sad.

	Arachnophobia – fear of spiders

	Astra my name you would think of the stars
	My gaze goes up but not that far
	To the first cloud there in the sky
	If it’s the shape of an anvil I will fly 
	Fear grips me and I don’t know why
	Astraphobia – fear of thunder and lightning
	Atychi that was about the size of me
	The others would just make fun
	I was no good to anyone
	A failure of the first degree
	Nothing my goal, was all I could see
	Atychiphobia – fear of failure

	Auto matic I will seek people out
	To touch to play as long as they are near
	Don’t leave me in this place alone 
        A singularity is my biggest fear
	I will hold anyone you see I care

	Autophobia – fear of being alone or isolated
	Automat o no it’s not true how could you
	An advert that’s telling just lies
	Don’t all the others realize
	What you say is not true, put it right 
	It will drive me crazy I’ll keep out of sight
	Automatonophobia – fear of anything that falsely represents a sentient being

	Aviat o if you think I am going in that
	No I am not a scared ***** cat
	If we were meant to go fly
	Wings we would have from him on high
	Fold your machine and put it just so.
	Aviophobia, Aviatophobia – fear of flying
	Chaeto he was a Greek of old
	Bald as a badger so the story is told
	But why you say is there no cure 
	For him to grow some lovely hair
	For him it would give such a scare

	Chaetophobia – fear of hair

	Chemo therapy keep away from me
	Chemicals scare me I know they are free
	But to have them coursing through my veins
	No matter how good they are, and that jar
	The fear of everything for what they are 

	Chemophobia – fear of chemicals

	Chirop to or not too so I am told
	They stick in your hair best to be bald
	Now I find that my nails are made of hair
	Chirop is what I fear not chiropodist is that clear!!
	Just shave my head and cut my nails dear

	Chiroptophobia – fear of bats

	Chromo shines bright in my eyes
	The fear of all colours  I realise
	Now I am safe from a troubled day
	Into my dark room, I have found my way
	Knock when that sun has met its demise

	Chromophobia - fear of bright colors

Copyright © Ian Howard | Year Posted 2012

Long poem by Abder Derradji | Details


Mother nature oh! Rose of roses!
Mother of all flowers' and smell,
Ylang Ylang! You don't know what it causes!
An aphrodisiac turns you on like hell!

Sandalwood with its masculine warmth poses,
Rosemary clears the head, you can tell,
Peppermint purifies blocked noses,
Patchouli the meditative, it does sell,

Orange oil refreshing, stimulates since Moses,
Chamomiles in variety and bluebell,
Mandarin the sweet floral in few doses,
Helps you digest and makes feeling very well,

Marjoram helps a positive mood,
In creating and lemon oil reduces the stress,
Lavender the cleansing oil is surely good,
Juniper Berry soothes and tones the muscles in mess,

Geranium the relaxing prepares you for action,
Cypress oil relaxes you twice and once again,
Cedarwood calms and makes ready for attraction,
Basil oil with prairie's odours is the main,

With Myrtle the antiseptic and carminative,
And Niaouli the beverage that it was,
For Neroli, the aphrodisiac is very active,
Origanum, Pimento, Pine oil and Rose,

Pettigrain, this is a citrus vulgaris,
Calms anger and refreshes the mind,
And the sedative, hypotensive Amyris,
With Angelica the stimulation you will find,

The Aniseed, Pimpinella anisum,
An antiemetic, diuretic and an insecticide,
Likewise in Anise-star, illicium verum,
All the same remedies you will find,

Laurus Nobilis, this is Bay-leaf oil,
Analgesic, cholagogue and hepatic,
In sweet styrax, Benzoin when you boil,
Vanilla flavour, a deodorant and cephalic,

Citrus Bergamia, Bergamot like orange,
An uplifting in character for anxiety,
In Birch tar, Betula Lenta you need courage,
To kill pain and thank the Lord Almighty,

Black Pepper, piper nigrum spicy sharp,
Cajuput oil, the herbaceous and penetrating,
In a singing-like circle with a harp,
Helps the heart, and respiration in circulating,

Cinnamomum Camphora  that's Camphor,
Since Chrosroes the Babylonian King the wise,
Surely was part of civilisation and folklore,
For the Eastern powers that fall and rise!

Caraway, Carum Carvi is sweet!
And a flavouring agent in all your food,
Adding it when marinading your meat,
Aromatise the entire dish that will be good!

Cardamom, Elettaria yellow flower and pale,
Very spicy and digestive from the East,
The Arabs praise it in their coffee call it "Hail",
And the Romans took it after each great feast,

Carrot-seed, Daucus carota has a past,
In skin diseases, teeth and gums and the sight illness,
Its effect on red blood cells is very fast,
With the right blends it surely helps the body fitness,

Apium Graveolens, celery is fresh and warm,
That was a symbol of funerals, death and grief,
It was believed in ancient Egypt nay in Rome,
To cure swollen limbs and to relieve,

Cymbopogon Nardus that's Citronella,
In wax candles helps mosquitos to disappear,
Its oil is used to beautify and make the "Bella",
In look and smell and feeling...what's more to hear??

Clove, coriander and clary Sage,
Cumin, Elemi and Dill,
Thousands of oils won't fill the page,
Eucalyptus and Fennel they heal,

Fir, Frankincense and Galbanum,
Garlic, Ginger and Grapefruit,
Guaicwood, Hyssop and Helichrysum,
This is immortelle oil to suit,

Jasminum, the waiting King at the doors,
A perfume for lovers to indicate,
A seduction imported by the moors,
To Spain, then Europe to fabricate,

Its uses along with Lavandin,
This hybrid of true Lavender and spike,
Was exploited in soap trade to begin,
Then turned to perfume-making and the alike,

Lemongrass is a very reviving,
And Lime, this citrus medica,
It does match when mixed with Mandarin,
And with Nutmeg could be a "replica,"

Linden Blossom oil is a slightly spicy,
Litsea Cubeba is a floral and fruity,
In Melissa, the honey-bee you fancy,
And Myrrh the musky, symbol for beauty,

Palmarosa, they say "clarifies the mind,
And Parsley was named after "Petros,
In Pine oil, good feelings you will find,
Rosemary has affected "Ethos",

Rosewood, this "Bois de rose",
A "Jacaranda" is known in Brazil,
A real deodorant in dose!
Sage was believed in Rome "To heal," 

Pimento is known as "Allspice,
And Santolina is still a pillar in medicine,
With Spearmint the smell is very nice,
In Tagetes the citrus flavour is never lasting,

Tangerine the hypnotic and Tarragon,
Terebinth the balsamic the vermifuge,
Thyme the thymus vulgaris that was born,
From the tears of Helen-Troy that grew huge,

Tea-Tree oil is sanitary Australian,
Verbena makes a love potion pot-pourri,
Vetivert, this earthy fragrance's never alien,
To the world of perfumes, competition and fury,

On Violet the odorata was said,
A symbol of fertility in Greece,
The perfume that Marie Antoinette preferred,
And in Yarrow a help for diabetes. 

Copyright © Abder Derradji | Year Posted 2015

Long poem by Eileen Manassian | Details

The First Bloom

You wonder why, my love
These memories flitter in the hallways of my mind
Knocking on the door
of every room
Where I’ve hung
Do not Disturb Signs
For I don’t want to remember you
My Paradise Lost and yet….

Oh, you wonder why, my love
I still rise to open the door
Why I fling them open wide
When each memory comes calling
Why I let them come inside
And sit here at my table
While I play the gracious host
As I listen to each memory repeat
The love story I love most...

You wonder why, my darling
I sit in rapt attention
Dabbing at a tear
While I smile
A sweet smile of remembrance
As one by one
They kiss my cheek in greeting

They all sit around me
Each one vying for my attention
These sweet memory guests
Are there to make sure
The visions are ever fresh
And so one runs his fingers through my hair
I close my eyes
Giving in to his ministration
But he couples it with kisses on my nape
To keep me awake
For he remembers the times
When your fingers playing with my hair
Would entice my eyelids to close
So the kisses he keeps coming
Preparing me
For what is to come...

The other memory holds my hand
Caressing tenderly
Making love to my fingers with his own
Intertwining and releasing
Whispering in my ear
In husky whispers of love
And I melt
I melt
At the resonance of his voice
The memory of enticement
The Prelude

I gaze down to look into the eyes
Of the memory guest sitting at my feet
I see there the devotion
Of someone at a shrine
As he looks up into my eyes
His hands on either side of me
His palms caressing my legs
Kissing as he goes along….
They are preparing me 
For the memory that has been waiting at the door

He watches intently
My favorite memory
There just inside the room of my mind
Of my wildest fantasies
He has been here before
He has been here often
What nights those were
What days
When he would ravish me
Till I could hardly breathe
Fatigued and spent
In the aftermath of his
Love storm

Now he stands
And though I try to rise
To close the door
I’m held back by the others
Whispering all around me
"Let him in
Let him come in."

A smile plays on his lips
As he sees me weaken
His devouring eyes take in my form
I feel the heat of his gaze
As his eyes feast on me
In my revelry of love
And at his signal
The other memories quietly leave

I look at him shyly
As he draws the filmy dream curtains tight
Blocking out the light of reality
Blocking out everything but his entity
He walks over to me
Stopping to light scented candles
Stopping to make me feel
His close proximity
He is near

He looks down at me
Claiming me before even one touch
"I’ve come my passion flower
I’ve come again to make you bloom
Like that first time
That first time
You opened up to me."

And then he is here kneeling at my feet
Undressing me
His breath hot on my breast
His hands gently probing
His mouth tasting
His tongue teasing
His fingers...pleasing
"You are altogether beautiful"
He whispers 
And I can only sigh
As the memory of that first bloom
Comes alive in my mind
And he takes me again
Takes me
Like that first time
When I discovered
What it means
To find release
Quivering on the edge of
Suspended in time
As I give in 
And let the streams flow
Falling free
Like the tears that fall
Glistening on my rosy cheeks

And as I lay spent in the silence
Of my own dark and dreary room
Savoring the fragrance of my memory
My memory of you
My first sensual dawn
My first taste of the heady mix
Of pleasure and pain
I know I must rise
To close the door of my mind again
This time I will lock it
This time, I will throw away the key
But the memory of that first bloom
Will find a way
To visit me again….
Oh, my love
For I cannot forget you
And that very first time
You made me...

Eileen Manassian

Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2014

Long poem by Simon Roshan | Details

Bethlehem's story

Away in a manger, wrapped in cloth was a baby                                                                                                                                                                                                           no one knew who he was may be,                                                                                                                       yet a star showed him, who he was                                                                                                              the shepherd worshiped the savior                                                                                                                                                                   the wise man bowed down, not knowing who they were naturally
Herod tried to kill him not knowing his time has not yet come                                                                                              the prophet prophesied the sovereign god                                                                                                         the child jumped not knowing it was in a womb surrounded
As he passed the street the blind saw, the lame walked                                                                                                the deaf heard and praised god, the leaper was cleansed                                                                           there was not one stone left unturned                                                                                                                  people tried to derail him from the cross                                                                                                                                   but it was us in his heart
The soldiers tried to wound him not knowing it is for their wounds to be healed                                                                                                             they  put a crown of thorns on him not knowing it is for their curses removed                                                                                  they nailed him on the cross not knowing it is for them to be free                                                                                                                                      they put him in the tomb not knowing he will raise on the third day                                                                                                            most of all they thought they had defeated him not knowing they have just paved way for his victory
O ,lord how can I thank you                                                                                                                                  what can I give you                                                                                                                                                                       I consecrate my life to you                                                                                                                                                      oh what love that forgives                                                                                                                                                                               betrayed yet with a smile he said                                                                                                                                love you my  child

Copyright © Simon Roshan | Year Posted 2016

Long poem by Olive Eloisa Guillermo - Fraser | Details


EFFUSED ENCOUNTER Neither a dream nor a trick, I beguiled-- I reach the sky enameled with golden smile. To hurdle bumps and curves, I continue to pedal this steadfast being yearn to step on a pedestal, I found at the center of a fertile square mile. Train piercing thorns didn't blind eyes to behold, a sunrise stored to each and every intricate fold. Some jasmine fragrance afloat-- satiates my smell lost hope resurrect to impregnate a lifetime tale as fragile attached hearts trying to enfold, The autumn trumpet hues a runner-up palette to your summer vibrant colors ballet, eyes wander feast on your swells of panache. My fingers drown to trace river edges bends, posh-- enthralled, above moon bowed shedding candle sprays. Open secret scents, you effused stirred plague of souls, the tempted sirens in one sang a victor goal. The listening wind hush and blows the beats swaying leaves to dance in left to right fleet. Catalyzed by the sun rising daily at morn call, I am inspired to traverse every norms' womb. By your petals slow zoom, I find myself in chorus bloom. Rooms of my mind open to hundred ocean thoughts which soon aims to recite it's symphonic notes, I... compelled to nectar strings of burst abloom. Goodness! War and peace didn't wilt our affair eversince Zion answered every whispered prayer. My experiences with you are pearls, dearest flower, consent me then to carry and share them 'til forever, as here on garden earth, I meet you as my soul pair. © 4:44 am; November 25, 2014 ___________________________________________________ -------------------------------------------------------------------- No cross. No trial. Not even a dark storm will stop me to climb the highest mountain if there-- a sublime beauty awaits for me.From tattered highways to plain narrow roads, I will stroll alike-- a fearless lion roaring regal With sunbeams glowing ember above my head, I behold an Aphrodite dwelling beneath a labyrinth fold. Perfumed fragrance rides the swaying breeze-- luring my hunger to taste some love. I, like the Aurora, rise in wonder. Oh! This sojourner's sight is arrested to your splendor. In a blue skied ambiance, will you care to surrender? The autumn leaves are like free-falling birds from maple-trees pretty,but a runner-up to summery hues you play. Big brown eyes meander feast on your petals of panache-- my fingers slowly prom to outline your edges. I, charmed, as even the mystique moon curves, casting some dim light sprays. . . Hours passed yonder am held captive by the spell from you Belle. so enthused, the reflections, I have zoom as I dispel castle dreams that draws a happily ever after tales. The apex now I reached - a diva I am as I sing rhapsodizing sweet the Nirvana I happened to see. I thank God that the world wars didn't bobble this encounter True... the years may ebb but this I will always remember. Dearest flower, my experience with you is priceless, consent me then to apportion this until forever in this Eden Earth that only you~ Belle is my soul pair. ________________________________________________________________ Sponsor Roy Jerden Contest Name The Makeover ---Placed 2nd--- ©O.E. Guillermo 7:28 pm; March 11, 2015 *** Note: the original in the form of quintella the new one in iambic heptameter or quatorzain.

Copyright © Olive Eloisa Guillermo - Fraser | Year Posted 2014

Long poem by Dale Gregory Cozart | Details

Still Life with Passion and Regret

It is an unseasonable March day. My kitchen blinds are drawn against the morning sun, their slender slats like new skin protecting the body's vital organs; eyelids before this rose-covered tablecloth as though the blooms are the pale larvae of our future, still coiled and sleepy, not-yet-flowers at the sill of this too-early spring, who would murmur, if so evolved: We are not ready to be born. I perspire at the sudden heat; the ceiling fan beats downward onto my damp corner, this alcove of waning winter. But the flowers: the muslin washed to faded smoothness, the blooms asymmetrical, each calyx waiting like fingers clasped in prayer to blossom into a new dimension, a simple heartfelt request to rejoin the living. And there are rhododendrons, pink with their baby freckles, the tiny stamen-fingers reaching past those same pliant slats, this time of the crib of their incubation, to touch softly anything of the strange newness of their coming fruition. We are dawning, come the earliest babblings; they know what they mean even if we do not. The first alien syllables fall on deaf carpeting and the semi-gloss of these pale walls, absorbed and forgotten in the stiff pleats of similar-colored curtains. In this house, in these manufactured shadows, I am still of winter, of our shared grief and shame at our compelling obscenity of civilization, knowing full well that this structure stood as shelter against the recent, freezing rains, the showering silver spears of a marauding infidel, who, as the earlier mulch of autumn, has come to dust, spent as the bride whose wedding dress falls away and disappears in the tatter of fallen leaves that soon dry up and disintegrate. In its place, in the folds of new skin, comes a house of flowers, plant-life sacrificing itself on the altar, using its own bodies to erect its shrine. Suddenly this tabletop, awash in once-vibrant maroons, greens, pinks and whites, is a crystal ball. In this sphere of the all-knowing I see things as they will be. This table is a loom and the cloth a tapestry, each thread a component of the fabric to come. And the flowers: roses unscrolling; chrysanthemums bursting into the applause of dozens of tiny hands; hibiscus, the silent trumpets, all laid out on a bed of stems and leaves woven as the threads themselves upon which their likenesses have been cast, like a portrait painted in their own green blood. But these dragons stationed at the gates of paradise are only cotton heroes; it is March. It is too soon. This sudden heat will pass as this day passes, its images dissolving into memory as a stone obliterates the reflection alive in a tranquil pool. What I have seen will be, but not now. I am myself in this little room, the adult who must go about the tasks of day. But I am also an infant poised on a threshold, the golden crocus in first bloom, arriving prematurely. And I am held at this brink of fruition by a body not sufficiently evolved, being led away by a parent I barely recognize, who cannot offer consolation as he does not know the vision I have seen. As we move I look back, reaching with the bulb of my hand and its tiny sprouting fingers, for the image growing further out of reach, and I murmur gravely, half in knowledge, half in absentia, the only word I can pronounce: Flower.

Copyright © Dale Gregory Cozart | Year Posted 2017

Long poem by Olive Eloisa Guillermo - Fraser | Details


TO THE FLOWER Your scent beckoned my weeping heart to painless flight; amidst a garden where God dusts His pretty love. Spring tints are pure and fragrant, free of guilt Your hues painted another sunrise for my eyes; when once I failed to catch the pledge of morn. A seed of hope was born to white petals blush. Though there are silhouettes of bitter yesterdays must all the phantoms of illusions fade and leave...? Your floating aroma stirred and shot my nerves; inspiring a nightingale to sing some joyous laments; It swayed with grace to dance on wind's despotic beat. among the rustling leaves which hug the earth below; So like the sun, which from distant horizon smiles; it roused the sleepy world to begin the pen of baby prose. The unfolding mystery of your petals brought my bewildered mind to peacock's reflection. Alas! All was transient. These eyes probe beneath but were blinded by the intrusion of some stray shine; Ambitions which from afar are building sprout; t'is that which let this self to irksome doubt. Lovely blossom of the wild, this sojourner nigh to tame your perfume's sweet stinging scent. A restless soul by some wicked, destiny pokes; someone called--- but pity, I couldn't tell a note. If by magic, a butterfly I could become; Let it be over my being slowly span. Then with you (though the specters in our midst are fierce), I could jet fly though miseries without fear. But am just a mortal of faith that blows this wish for only covenants call for my journey still? I cannot be forever the one who would share your sweetness; (Harken, fairies of blooms, this wilderness is not my lair.) I shall not want to witness you wilt as no time left to stay. Never again will you see me at day-break's bloom, save something special for others to experience you. This fleeting apparition I so adored; promised me burgeoning petals. "Be not afraid as seasons change, beyond today, I won't be here to see that no harm be done with all intentions to your sacred charm. As today, I leave you to Mother's Nature tender care, for I must go to some greater musing-- heaven's ground. Wilt not, as soon the rain will dash, refreshing you my dear. If I return someday-- will your sublime scent still be here?" __________________________________________________________ Your Best Poem - Poetry Contest Sponsor Shadow Hamilton ~~3rd place~~ Free Verse, Prose Poetry, haibun - Poetry Contest Sponsor Debbie Guzzi ~~2nd Place~~ POEM OF THE DAY: October 21, 2015 Inspired by Susan Seddon Boulet's painting: -----http://media-cache-cd0.pinimg.com/236x/1d/c4/37/1dc437f88c0cfb2fbcc9333bd35bb8c3.jpg ©Olive Eloisa Guillermo October 20, 2014, 10:19 pm

Copyright © Olive Eloisa Guillermo - Fraser | Year Posted 2014

Long poem by Maria Williams | Details

Soaring Hawk - A Haiku Series

Soaring Hawk poised high Back drop a deep sapphire sky Winds in attendance Mighty wings unfold Caressing the Wind Spirits They lift and support Circling Hawk perceives Rainbow circle on a cloud Framed is his shadow On oceans of blue Snow hills of clouds seem to float On silvered ripples Waves swell as they curl White manes gracefully flow Rolling to the shore Higher still soars Hawk Wind Spirits on either side Carry him upwards Land and mountains meld Lofty mountains crown the land Great aspirations Hawk gracefully glides Towards the shore he observes His island in bloom Festooned in colour Hibiscus - Red, Gold and Pink In leafy bouquets Flowers - Pale yellow Their sweet perfume exuding Riding on the Winds Romance in the air Couples hold hands and frolic An Island in love Hawaiian Hawk proud Sees everything - land and sea Paradise Island Wind voices whisper Of Rebirth, Growth and Culture Hawaii has heard
Footnote: We recently visited Hawaii, one of our favorite holiday destinations, once again we were carried away with the ambience and peacefulness of this Island Paradise. In collaboration with my Husband Ron, our inspiration came while viewing the breath taking panorama from the 16th floor of the Hilton Hawaiian Village Waikiki Beach Resort. The Waikiki beach, the beautiful gardens and the mountains all formed the picture. But we needed a story and the Spirit legends supplied the theme. All this got put together on the aircraft on our way back home to Australia. We have tried to capture and share some of the essence which is the Spirit of this beautiful island, its rebirth of culture that’s embroidered in the legends of a traditional Hula dance. The Red Hibiscus (koki'o'ula) is the flower of the big island, while the Gold flower mentioned - The vibrant, sunshine-hued Yellow Hibiscus (ma'o hau hele) is Hawaii's official National flower. In Hawaiian culture, Hibiscus is a symbol of old royalty & communicates power and respect. The Hawk Kaha Ka ‘lo - the highest Chiefs where often called ‘lo – ‘Hawk with eyes that can see everywhere’ Ku Mahani ‘Rising Wind’ has a position of power grace and motion. Ka Leo O Haukine ‘The voice of the Wind’, is so named. The two Winds according to the legend, are the voices of ancestors who listen and speak through the winds. Together they are the Spirits that uplift the mighty ‘Lo – The Hawaiian hawk. Some of the imagery described is seen from the aircraft as it would be seen through the eyes of the Hawaiian Hawk. The circular rainbow, for those who have not been fortunate to have witnessed this rare phenomenon, it actually does exist. POTD 14th April 2017

Copyright © Maria Williams | Year Posted 2017

Long poem by cherl dunn | Details


Listen to the whispering's of the unhushed winds gently echoing,
Ever so softly swaying, as through a tender exhaled breath of warmth,
Delicately reawakening mother earth from winters hibernating sleep,
Broken, shattered is the frozen icy spell of polar enchantment.
The dreaming empress of springtime stirs, underneath her shifting
Melting ivory skirts of wintertime, nay she is ready to adorn another
Seasonal gown of magical rebirth, and life renewal.
In the distance hear the lone whippoorwill singing, to this timeless waltz
Of nature’s enduring elegance, breathless beauty amongst the evergreen
Pines, she stands tall again, shaking off the milky white coverings of powder
Snow dust, to expose rainbow blossoms of springtime!
Showered Goddess by sun-kissed golden light, shimmering shine within
The horizons canvas of brilliance everlasting design, walking in graces
Steps from heaven’s cherished, beguiling the spoils response, refreshing,
A gleaning harvester of life itself!
Oh sweet humming mistress, do not the bees covet thee, as their mystical
Queen of melted honey comb, buzzing amongst your garden magnificent,
Drinking deeply from pollinations yellowy treasured nectar!
Within the willows the breeze welcomes the maiden of generations,
Lightly waving among the daffodils delicate petals, brushing against
The dandelions bending shafts, tenderly caressing at this wild flowery
Meadow of colors contrast.
A gentle spring rain thus falls, to nourish and sustain the divine gardens
Of Eden’s paradise, tiny is the sparrow within these sacred trees of harmony,
Let what music she sings, of beauty’s tune of charms splendor in perfections
Feathers white of angels wings shed unto the world of men, as the world
Awakens on the dawning of springs revival and restoration, within opulence’s
Blazing sunrise, a lady of peace walks in tranquility's shadow smiling, dancing,
Underneath heaven’s merciful hands of hope, and devotional resolve for the
Future to burst forth!
She is the weaver, the crafter of roots sewn, the quilter of generations
Blanket, mother of the world itself, behold how this Golden Goddess
Shows her love by promises rainbow garden, cascading downwards from
Mountain tops, to the valley’s vast deep and wide!
Inspirations muse, I’ll kneel before your evergreen footprints of life,
Bowing in humble reverence, and respect, for I’m just a mortal being
Lost in the whispering winds of the timeless, a pondering poet,
The wondering bard captured in the spring time spell you’ve cast,
Blessed being known, as mother nature!

Dedicated to my friend whom loves springtime, and Daffodils!!


Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2016

Long poem by Eileen Manassian | Details

The Scent of Your Soul

The scent of your feelings clings 
To the fabric of my dreams
It never leaves….it lingers
Permeating everything
The scent of your feelings
Envelopes me

The fragrance of gardenia
When you are tender, sweet
Gentle and serene 
Tranquility showing through
In the gardenia scent of you

Seducing scent of jasmine
Surrounds you like an aura
Heavy, heady
Promising opulent luxury
Of flesh upon flesh
With you in control
Leading me deeper
Into the scent of your fantasies
Tantalizing, teasing, tempting
Endless jasmine ecstasy
Sensual and satiating
Is the jasmine scent of you

Perfumed in Damask Rose
Giving off the scent 
Of inner turmoil
Uncertainty, vulnerability
You are brooding and troubled
Guarded, disturbed
Needing to be reassured
Held in the strength of my arms
Quieted by my love
Till dawn’s light
When your safety is assured
And your scent finds release
Along with that of mine

Honey suckle perfume
Your need to nurture
To let me suckle
At your breasts
Your perfume speaking
In words my soul hears
That you live only
To care for my needs
Your perfumed hands
Soothing way the aches and pains
Of my rough and busy day
Honey suckle promises
Of womanly affection
In waves of comfort and light
I taste honey
Nectar that sweetens my lips
For I know it flows for me
I know I am nothing
A poor lost man
Without the fragrance of honey suckle
Wafting over me

Narcissus emotions
When there is venom in your eyes
Sparks fly all around me
And I know a storm is coming
A scent foreboding
Indicating the imminence
Of the unleashing of thunder and lightning
Torrents of rain
The scent of angered passion
I sense it
I smell your brewing storm
I’m unleashed in the elements
And yet….I know
How to harness your storm
How to bring calm
How to let you vent in my arms
Beat at my chest
I silence you with a kiss
Your arms pinned
The anger passes
Yet your 
Narcissus scent
Left on my chest
Leaves me shaken
In the aftermath
Of your storm

Orchid emotions
The perfume of surrender
Absolute abandon to my will
The sweetest fragrance
The tenderest emotion
A wilting flower
Waiting to be revived
Tenaciously wrapping around my body
Knowing its source of life, love, and happiness
Your scent moves me
Brings out my desires
To possess
To please and reward
To bring color to your petals
By my life giving stream
Lost in this scent
The most beautiful of all
The scent of surrender
To me

The scent of your emotions...
Your soul
Clings to my being
A perfumed eternity
In your arms

For Anthony Slausen's Scent of Your Soul Contest

Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2014

Long Poems