Long Sunflowers Poems
Long Sunflowers Poems. Below are the most popular long Sunflowers by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sunflowers poems by poem length and keyword.
Orchids are white,
Ghost ones are rare,
Mirrors are shiny,
And so is your hair.
Magnolia grows,
With buds like eggs,
My ocean is beautiful,
And so are your faith.
Sunflowers reach,
Up to the skies,
My faith is wide,
As so are your eyes.
Magnolia girl,
With buds like eggs,
My ocean is beautiful,
And so are your faith.
Foxgloves in hedges,
Surround the farms,
BPA-free water bottles safe,
And so are your arms.
Magnolia grows,
With buds like eggs,
My ocean is beautiful,
And so are your faith.
Daisies are pretty,
Taffies have style,
Your moonlight is illuminating,
And so is your smile.
Magnolia girl,
With buds like eggs,
My ocean is beautiful,
And so are your faith.
A flowery essence is beautiful,
Just like you.
3/17/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019©
A candy dish in cobalt glass
Reflecting temptations
Beneath the heavy cover
A hairbrush fuzzy with gray down
From the head it combed
On nights spent alone, awake
A cast iron skillet
Melting fatback and butter
Frying potatoes, tomatoes and okra
A earth colored hoe
Resting against the fence
Dripping hope against sweaty palms
A cigarette lit, smoldering
In the hazy Autumn sun
Leaving breaths of smoking hope
A prayer lifted to the sky
Whispered on eager lips
With a desire to do what’s right
A faded black bible
On the center of the coffee table
Waiting for her to drink of Him
A light flickering in the dark
Haunting the moon with thoughts
Of the moments that have long gone
A old plate with painted flowers
Alive with sunflowers and pansies
Glimmering through cracked edges
A dawn that awakens laughter
On the heart of one who praises
In the inspirational poems and prose
A woman who is gone now
Living in heaven with God’s Son
Where nothing here can concern her
She is remembered, missed, faded
Into the background of a tenderness
That dances through psalms with grace
Her heart was warm and rich
With humble kindness
A gentle faith that gives love its blush
She was my grandmother
And I will never forget her charm
The vibrant life flowing through her soul
Never forgotten – always loved
She is a tattoo of fireflies, dancing
Reminding me that I am still alive
cracked Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Anthony Biaanco
March 5, 2023
T i m e ~ you are the spark
that tips the scales
of lovestruck heartbeats,
ricocheting glyphs of fairness,
etched with gold and silver.
Yet seasons of smoke fail to
trace the unexpressed emotions
woven with ultraviolet beams.
Perhaps the ticking truth of intoxicated haze,
is a resonance of pained pulses:
a poem without a title,
a sonnet without a rhyme,
a melody without a rhythm,
a palette without a dream,
cosmically tied, yet torn by space,
pondering:
what if these implicit metaphors
heal the beautifully bruised,
paint the scars with flares of serenity,
turn bleeding wounds into sterling specks,
and draw hope with swirling sunflowers?
As I am a wordless wanderer,
facing the heat of sultry skin within starlight,
tasting the milky flickers of quartz
as they seep into the warm arms
of blushing twilight.
These fingers curate chronicles
from archaic archives,
scintillating souvenirs,
like a forest library with shimmering shelves
touched by sunlit rays
and mauve memories merging
with evening mists.
For I am the mistress
of your amethyst afterglow,
engrossed in the ambrosial luminescence
of soft-spoken verses,
as alluring auroras emanate
burning thistles of thirsting galaxies~
the delicate dews of dancing diamonds
caressing the silk of stars to drizzle
one last drop of your pining poetry,
while I await the return of
Romeo’s rhapsody,
like Juliet on the tantalizing tip of throes,
counting Cupid's jewels of nightfall,
wishing upon the dusk of craving.
For in your absence,
I am but a poet with no abstract speech,
but doleful desires,
longing to kiss the final phase of Luna’s sigh
catching crooning comets,
lost in the hypnotic moon-gaze
of immortal love...
Orange and Green would not exist without her
For they depend on her mixture to be created.
Mix yellow with blue, voila – green.
Mix yellow with red, voila – orange.
Yellow is bring, clean, fresh.
Yellow rejuvenates, regenerates, enthralls, and delights.
Anyway for me, and I am only the expert of me.
It uplifts me, and excites me, brings me hope and joy.
Mustard, sunflowers, daffodils, dandelions
Baby chicks, baby ducks, bananas, buttercups.
They all raise me up, inspiring me to be better than I was.
The psychology of yellow for me is amazing; it is my heart.
Bumblebees, sunshine, raincoats, daisies, marigolds.
Firefighter’s jackets, 1970’s infamous happy face.
Bring my childhood swiftly back and make me grin.
Yellow pudding, lemon meringue pie. Yellow tastes good too!
Parakeet, cats, playdough, Tupperware, bedroom wallpaper.
Bring me yellow if possible, for it uplifts me and instills optimism.
It is rejuvenating, refreshing and delightful. Maybe not for everyone.
But for me, and I am only the expert of me.
Blushing roses in vibrant hues
Lilac and mauve, lemon yellow and ceruse
Beautiful whispers of light, followed by moods
Tangerine and gold, vivid blue, azure
Like the silent summer moon, shimmering
Stars, reflecting joy and warmth
Brilliant gold sunflowers, smiling
Over the hills and through the rows
Silent and soothing, searching signals
Faith promises, played like a rhythm
Melodies of love, laughing and lasting
Breathing through the oaks and pines
Woodlands, a wilderness, embracing
Hearts who reverberate the mysteries
Breathtaking lilacs, lavender hope
Enlightening, delighting, reassuring
Breaking through the dreams, the reveries
Freeing, accepting, enduring all the doubts
Reminding the shades of inspiration
To capture the love in the imagination
The attraction of wonder within a sigh
Beckoning on clouds who pass on by
Bring me the jewels of blooms, soft petals
Murmuring on the wind, truths, pleasures
Dancing gracefully, peace on the waters
Of my heart, my soul, liquid promise of a garden
Glorious and joyous – prayers of the natural world
2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 5 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Mark Toney
June 26, 2022
A paradise of natural nature bouquets displayed:
of yellow, orange, pink, red roses of redolent scented phase.
Lilies, tulips, daisies, daffodils and violets are of bountiful blooms
All these have enchanted scents of fresh fragrant perfumes cues;
bringing love interludes.
On the countryside, new scents of morning-glory flowers are new:
wildflowers are there with colorful shades and hues.
By a home flower orchids, geraniums and marigolds do soothe.
Pinned are carnations at shoulder height level views.
Rhododendron and impatiens of the color purple do muse.
Bowing down their heads are of yellow and white sunflowers to you.
Their seeds are a delightful protein fuel.
Azalea, buttercups, mums, lilacs; soften the mood.
Springtime, summertime and fall-time
has botanical flower gardens with gala venues.
Flowers and bees intertwine to produce pure delicious honey.
Flowers for us are an in-depth botany study.
A local natural land treasury of perennials and annuals do resume.
Dried flowers are preserved as a uniquely lovely tribute.
These are to have for five to seven lasting enjoyable years, to share.
A Green thumb is awarded to the most flowery flower gardens here.
Purposely pluck pretty prickly prime red roses and white lilies for a vase: and then give them to a pretentious precocious loved member.
This a loving memory that will last in everyone heart story.
These are of the "lively lovely flowers in prom,"
Those in one's hands and on upon all lands.
Yet, of all of these: they are but a small reflection of the true, prettiest flower of them all.
The "Rose of Sharon," this who is Jesus, the Christ, the Lovely Lord. The creator of all flowers of whom, I do most admire and adore.
Written: August 31, 2023
______________________________________________________________
Each day the evenings will shorten,
My lawn never got vibrant in my garden.
Life shifts slowly as the sun sets low in the sky,
As summer bids goodbye.
Sunflowers start to hide their faces,
Their vibrant petals are now withdrawn.
No longer basking in the sun's warm embrace,
Their golden glow is now gone.
Morning dew sparkles on the green grass,
A reminder of the fading warmth.
Days grow short, and the air is a morass,
As nature readies for the storm.
Humming mower engines are quite rare,
There is no longer a need for lawn care.
Summer's melody has gone numb,
Now, Autumn's whispers are dumb.
BBQs are packed away for the following year,
Neither sizzling steaks nor burgers on the grill
Gatherings and merriment are unclear,
As summer's flame begins to chill.
After harvest moons, loud crickets crack-clack,
Their symphony begins to wack,
Nights sway calmer, and stars are brighter,
Summer's lilting tune appears to be lighter.
Beaches are vacant schools to replace,
Children's laughter fades away,
Yellow buses claim their place.
As summer ceases it's joyful play.
Lightweight blankets pulled to the chin,
As the nights grow colder and longer,
Bedtime dreams are tucked in,
As summer's grip grows stronger.
The buzzing harbor drones no more,
Boats depart the splintery lakeshore,
The waves now whisper their goodbyes
As September knocks their ways.
Farewell to summer's golden glow,
As autumn's colors start to show,
The world transitions; the seasons sustain,
But Summer's memories will forever remain.
Swaying fields of buttercup and yarrow
Lavish goldenrod and dandelions
Wild outside my garden walls
Protective of their independence
And carefree wanton ways
Yet bemused by how
Just over yonder
The other half lives
Flirtatious gloriosa daisies
Alluring yellow columbine
Coquettish gerbera daisies
Provocative flutterbye roses
Sultry golden feverfew
Sweet carolina jessamine
Bewitching black eyed susans
Tentalizing gold nuggets
Darling flannelbush
Amazonlike sunflowers
Golden bells daffodils
Spice custard iris and finally...
Irresistible hummingbird sage
All day long just sitting over there
Looking most opulent and radiant
While soaking up the finest rays of sun
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
In gardens where the wild winds roam,
Marlaina walks, and love comes home.
Each step she takes, the blossoms rise—
Their colours borrowed from her eyes.
She lingers where Gerber Daisies grow,
With petals soft as evening’s glow.
They blush in pinks and fiery gold,
As if they know the hands that hold
Their fragile stems are warm with fire—
A gardener, yes—but so much higher.
Chrysanthemums, her autumn muse,
Speak in whispers lovers use.
She cups them close, they understand,
That grace can bloom from her bare hand.
In every curl of petal tight,
She finds the shape of love’s own light.
Sunflowers turn, bold in desire,
To follow her like flame to fire.
She is their sun, their sacred flame,
They rise and reach when she speaks their name.
With golden hearts and lifted heads,
They dream of lying in her bed.
And in the quiet of her room,
She lays her heart in Roses’ bloom.
Red for passion, white for grace,
Soft reminders of a lover’s face.
Each thorn and velvet fold she tends,
As if they were her secret friends.
No man could ever understand
The way she loves with voice and hand.
But if he brought her flowers, true—
Not store-bought stems, but those that grew
With time and care, with sun and rain—
He just might win her heart’s domain.
For Marlaina, with her soul so wild,
Is flower, flame, and dreaming child.
To love her is to plant and pray,
And bloom beside her, day by day.
Scott W
"I carry your heart with me (I carry it in my heart) I am never without it..."
E.E. Cummings
Amber hues kissed twilight's platinum pigments that night,
beckoning ivory pearls to weave patterns of astral flames.
Charm of the crescent moon glowed in a golden gem tinge,
dazzling in divine desires, devoted to admirers of starlit destinies.
Enamoured, we embraced, consoling under coral constellations,
forgetting fears, promising to forever remain as cosmic lanterns.
Galactic fires of euphoria, blazed celestial candles into dripping wax,
hushing horizons into a heavenly haven of honeysuckle hope.
Intoxicated inside fireworks of ethereal lights, dancing on clouds,
jasmine jubilance filled the air, as shy silver sparks slipped away.
Kindled spirits like nocturnal diamonds yearned to be eternal
lovers of luminescent lullabies lingering inside opalescent orbs.
Magnetism of moonlight melodies are enchanting, but ephemeral,
nothing lasts forever, so at dawn with the arrival of a nightingale
orchestra, our obsession of obeisance withered like an orchid obituary.
Pastel passions of our paramour portrait discoloured with daylight dew,
quivering in nature's quiet quarantine of quintessence slumber.
Radiant rays only offered reflections of regret and rejection, as,
sorrows of sunflowers in winter winds shattered my hourglass heart.
These tribulations torment my tired soul, like a refugee of romance.
Unstable, under an umber universe, I've become an uncherished
verse in a voiceless vocabulary, no longer vibrant nor valued.
Wilting in the wilderness without your wisteria whispers, wounds in
xanthous tumours, hidden behind a veil of Xanadu metaphors,
yearn to heal from yesterdays, where your touch softened my burdens.
Zest of your zealotry is engraved in echoes of my zephyr heartbeats.