Long Petunia Poems
Long Petunia Poems. Below are the most popular long Petunia by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Petunia poems by poem length and keyword.
Scavenging squirrels search for acorns, scratching old stumps from trees.
Scampering up my sugar maple, they steal my bird feeder seeds.
Sleepy salamanders wake from their slumber to search on slippery stones for a spider lunch and a caterpillar filled home.
Pigeons flock together to peacefully perch on an church.
Puddles are for parched puppies who suffer a little thirst.
Ponds become a drink for blooming blossoming trees.
Patiently I’m waiting to plant petunia and poppy seeds
Rubbery rain boots donate dry feet.
Robin fledglings begin to eat.
Rain and sun meet as one,
making a ribbon of lovely hues,
arched green, yellow, and radiant blues.
Ribbit then repeat, frogs wake up to a
repetitive beat.
Imagine a katydid, butterfly or flea,
drinking sun warmed cinnamon tea !
If inchworms can measure a dragonfly’s wings,
imagine a butterfly that could really sing!
Indigo Buntings dipped in blue, grasshoppers and cicadas are their favorite food.
Nuthatch, a feathered acrobat that can climb upside down, and circle a tree around and around. On peanuts and cherries they love to dine, with conifers and prickly pines.
Nature welcomes spring with lovely bird songs, while tall grass hides a new spotted fawn.
Geese with long black necks eat gracefully from the ground, where berries and spring grass is now easily found. Larger than a duck but smaller than a swan.
Soon goslings will appear when wintertime is gone, singing proud, petite songs.
Mist veil in haze, winter unwraps,
A rejoice raptures in reverie of spring.
Amber gold touch of Midas perhaps,
Bees and frilled petals in amorous cling.
A mystical harmony of beauty serene,
Magnolia and tulip, hum for butterfly.
Honeysuckle vines, squirrels in between,
Yellows and purple, rose cheeks feel shy.
Like peacocks bloom, begonia and pansy
Palettes of color, lush in vibrant green
Perfumed breeze...cadence lily in daisy
Petunia with marigold, in rollick are seen.
On canvas of soil, lyric paints a picture,
Sprouting prose...to poetry and sonnet.
Sowing seeds of love, Man nurtures Nature
In pride of his sweat, plants glitter on it.
The harvest of hoe, conjures a treasure
In Glory of Garden, life is born to grow.
Landscape of spring, is short-lived pleasure
Maxim of death,.. in summer.., do they know?
20th February 2019
Submitted to Garden Poetry Contest
Sponsor Chantelle Anne Cooke
Plant a seed of hope, courage,
strength, patience and love
Dig a big hole in the garden of your thoughts
Cover well with soil of fertility
My garden philosophy is
to make the garden simple, practical,
nice, lush and beautiful
in collaboration with nature
A garden that will grow over time
Water it from the source of satisfaction
I choose to have several types of flowers
Marguerites, Lobelia, Scabious,
Rosemary, Foxgloves, Petunia and Chives
The best flowers for bumblebees
plants rich in pollen and nectar
When you focus on the possibilities,
you will only get even more opportunities
In return you will get unprecedented
amounts of happiness and peace
Some of the most annoying I know
are the days when daydreaming
constantly being interrupted
while I climb my ladder
... one step at a time
My garden is my temple
30/07/2020
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Poetry Contest
Petal, buds, blossoms, bees, birds, butterflies
Sponsored by: Silent One
2nd place in the contest
- a fictional poem :)
Sheri SPECIFICITY-she is a Specificity- -
The people in the gym, both men and women;
Saying ooh!!! While pointing at this woman's
All faces frown, children running around;
Some people saying, Man! Look at her height,
Look at them nails and teeth;
Good Grief!!
My lady exposure your feet are rather long;
Your stature towers over me;
Them there skinny-chicken legs Oooh wee!!
Those things you call finger nails;
Are as long as your feet and those teeth;
All this does, all it does is make men seek;
To run away hurriedly they don’t wanna speak;
This willow tree embracing you;
All men run from you, they just do;
Your body type is out of sight, no really
Your hands are sessile, where are your wrist
Yearly you dance the flower stance the petunia
Your oval shaped torso makes men wanna go for double take renewal;
Those smooth margin-ed legs, liken a chickens;
Funnel shaped fused consisting of five fused pot belly;
Convicted of eat lard, peanut butter and petroleum jelly;
Specificity you is something of an oddity;
A bazaar beauty specificity?
3/31/19
Specificity in Poetry Poetry Contest Enter Contest
Sponsored by: Sheri Fresonke Harper
Georgie Porgie was a little overweight, since he loved tasty desserts,
Like puddings and baked pies; or green woods, full of robin concerts.
Georgie was ten years of age, possessing an impish sense of humor;
And played tricks on his classmates, involving frogs, it was rumored.
This sometimes left girls in tears, while boys wanted to thrash him!
But Georgie ran away, laughing, like violet blooms, of nature's whim.
As Georgie was only having fun, he gave those girls who cried, a kiss;
Like dazzling rainbow colors slip away, silent, before they are missed.
'Georgie Porgie, Puddin’ and Pie,
Kissed the girls and made them cry,
When the boys came out to play
Georgie Porgie ran away.'
Fetching flowers were fading fast, lying on motley beds, in cool fields;
As fall season was flourishing, with friends coming, for fun and meals.
Fireproof, fragrant summer flamed furiously, on fuchsia fourth of July;
When flying family rode fluffy, pink clouds, eyeing bluebirds going by!
Georgie lived in the house of huge moon, inescapable in the darkness;
And dreams arose in glittery, gold dust, when all roads were calmness.
Saucy, scarlet blooms wore polka dots, skillfully crafted by the sun days,
On his street of striped, petunia contrasts, following nature's wild ways.
Nonrenewable hours drifted by, noticed, midst noise of neon songbirds;
As new neighbors dropped in, casually, with the noted confetti of words.
Black orchids lent dark to noon, as 'King Kong' coleus terrorized towns;
And plum, 'persian shield' plants guarded, the hues of sunset drowned.
'Brazilian blue' cacti were melancholy, in affinity with the sapphire sky;
Like the crimson rose memory of fire, or red butterflies, of no goodbye.
Silvery years passed, with velvet tick tocks, as Georgie tired of pranks;
And he dreamt of being an engineer, like stars, the adoring planets flank.
Soon Georgie took girls out on dates, and they often ended with kisses,
Like dinnerplate dahlia days of delight, in many dyes of summer riches!
Georgie Porgie, Puddin’ and Pie,
Kissed the girls who no longer cried.
The puppies in Petunia Patch are pinching pumpkins today!
We wild ones ran down the road, yelling Hip! Hip! Hip! Hooray!
October sun was streaming down making the afternoon quite gay.
We laughed and jumped and whirled and twirled; it was a great day!
Which puppies do you think will show this time? Asked my Uncle Zeb.
The happiest, sparkle spaniels of course, said my eager cousin Ned.
We chased and laughed and ran amok, as we headed toward the field.
The puppies were frolicking and frisking; one held a pumpkin shield.
It is the Husky King! The Doberman gasped; he was amazed tis true.
The rest of the puppies barely noticed, tossing pumpkins as they grew.
Pumpkins landed with a splat, and the baby dogs howled their delight.
Grandmas brought pumpkin pudding, which lasted through the night.
The terrier puppies began to settle in, lollygagging in a giant pile.
These clumps of fat puppies made even the dourest of us smile.
Next year let’s bring the kitties in too, an eager fellow promptly said.
It was my cousin Twinbite two, who is as silly as Cousin Ned.
There once lived a girl with a bonnet of straw
her song was so bad yet they did not outlaw
blame the song not the brain
said the chap, quite insane
at the Kalamazoo bar even whiskey guffawed
Milton the server from the far edge of town
wiped down his bar and then gave her a frown
she did not take heed
she was all voice and greed
at Kalamazoo hub all they drank was the Crown
Her name was Petunia she sang like a spoon
until Mexico John said, " I'll marry you soon"
she married him quick
though thick as a brick
he was cute as can be and played a bassoon.
Don't buy it,
Scatter the wishes,
However (desperate and maligned),
For all of them,
The (murmur) and the (mesmerized),
Youth-paid homage,
Ill-afforded, unattended and
Graciously subversive,
By aged animals nodding
Approval against the (backdrop)
Of their worst intentions,
Hope that eloquence, depth,
Perceived connection and
Immersions of familiarities
Will get everyone laid,
Plush boy smiles, admits his
Voyeurism needs polishing,
(Languishing),
Sip from scourge's
Crystal goblet,
Teardrops by the glassful,
Ah, the epiphany,
It's a gay quorum,
A foreign swath of fashion sense,
Pickled on the petunia,
The green, sunny willow,
Swaying, to drunken breeze,
And smiles, complacencies,
At least they have
The good (sense) and fortune,
Rouge, textured rhythms,
Bass-plucking fires,
Snapping horns dotting the air,
Straight mutes coddling
The wicked goods,
And snare and pound,
The beat drives straight,
No need getting off,
When you're on baby!
(6/27/05)
Petunia is the plain little sister
who gets overlooked and passed over.
She’s not the pretty one,
always quiet and reserved,
not classy, fancy or graceful.
She takes backstage at every turn.
No games, no false pretenses.
She’s frumpy, floppy and flimsy.
Her scent is unrefined,
not confused with real perfumes.
She’s somewhat of an ugly duckling
but when the going gets tough,
we can’t help but admire
her tenacity when facing adversity.
Slow and steady wins the race.
She’s low maintenance, demure and bashful.
So reliable is her performance,
she’s been known to outshine competition.
Unpretentious and free from vanity
Yet, fact not known… surprise ~
petunia blooms are edible !
AP: 2nd place 2025, Honorable Mention 2025
Written: January 26, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Sara Jama
Quote by Geoffrey Chaucer "Time and tide wait for no man,"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Time, a poltergeist whisper
slipping through the cracks
Moments shimmer
akin to Petunia petals aloft,
a hypnotic dance —
ephemeral yet priceless.
Time waits for no one;
haven't you felt its rush?
Time waits for no one —
It simply drifts away.
With each tick, clocks transform
into the fabric of history—
you seize fleeting seconds
as if they could stretch forever.
Wilted Orchids echo
forgotten dreams,
pulled by unseen forces
upon a canvas of memories.
Each speck of time,
a mason's chipped work.
Harmonic motions dim
in the palms of eternity;
calming breezes frown
upon autumn’s sunlit glow.
No one halts time—it surges on!
It speeds faster than a blink.
Nostalgia weaves itself
around crystal vessels,
while moonflower garlands
bloom amid hazy dreams.
Tattletale smiles escape
into hollow nights—
a foggy embrace
filled with haunting whispers and grins.
Tulips muted bluish—gray
etch their tale in time’s shore.
Embrace winter’s trudge
and find solace unvexed:
surf through waves of magic
knowing love beams bright.
Galumph through life
daring despite harsh fates:
vagabond dreams vaudeville
within flummoxed hearts;
a rainbow palette spreads
beneath a hammock sky.
No matter what, it lies ahead.
After passing, it's futile to cling on.
Desolation puckers beneath
the glistening dew decline,
an abyss where bleeding
wrists are fodder for worms.
A sycophantic squire crafts
kismet kernels stripped—
flesh ripped by careless slips,
losing grip on whispers;
breaths juggle surly skies,
sharp as bleak thorns.
From cradle to grave,
We've learned —
that time is wealth
we must cherish.
Darkness veils endless roads,
plummeting in twilight throes.
tangled fears mimic
Dionysus amphetamine highs—
brimstone offers esoteric solace
that straddles the magnetic edge.
Whispers eviscerate as they swirl,
amber kisses across fallen stars.
Crocuses bloom in purple
while goldfinch trill
yellow celandine riddles.
Employ your edge before it fades.
Everyone longs for plenty of time.
You can't carry time with you
money cannot reclaim lost time.