I used to
think you
were
beautiful,
today I
can't even
see your
face, what
happened?
Where did
the flower
I
found in
you go?
Did I go
blind? Did
the flower
die?
I used to
Love you.
Today that
seems
impossible,
how could
I have
Loved
someone
so
insignificant?
I made a
home in
my heart
for you,
now I
can't make
myself care
that you
are an
orphan.
I thought
we were
one and
the same
person, I
still do, Im
just
temperarily
blind, I
can't even
see the
Light
that
sorrounds
your
Flower
now.
I can't see
the Love in
you that
mirror's
your sad
smile, I
don't see
the home
you will
always
have in
that
smile and
choose to
be blind to
the
source
that makes
you and I
one.
a flower will blossem,
then it will die,
my love will blossem,
but will never die.
a flower will grow and grow,
will it wivers away,
my love willl grow and grow,
but will never stop growing.
My love for you grows like a flower in the hot summer sun,
and you make me bloom when we laugh and have lots of fun.
But when you go and hurt me thats when I will die,
because you made my flower soul cry.
Many, many years ago
In a house by the wood
Where the wild flower sometimes grow
I stood wearing a yellow hood
Young and shy as a maiden fair
He took my hand and led me astray
His deep eyes and wavy hair
I can’t deny I was his prey
He kissed my lips, oh so tender
My soul passed into his care
It was pleasure beyond surrender
Nothing my first kiss can compare
And this is the reason
That when the wind blows at night
Or spring arrives in full season
That brightness enters with light
In my heart’s memory of long ago
Where the wild flower sometimes grow
Close your eyes and imagine a flower
An ordinary flower held my an ordinary girl
An ordinary girl holding an ordinary flower that an ordinary boy gave her
An ordinary boy that fell in love with an ordinary girl
Put that together and you have an extraordinary thing
I started this poem with a flower
and it was raining
crackling in sheets across the roof.
It was late and I
should have already been asleep.
The thunder struck close and I was startled.
That flower had long since drowned
and my poem had gone to rot,
but the point is
no matter how I begin
some piece of you always crops up --
whether it is your strong jaw,
your country twang,
or your mutilated thumb.
Because that flower I was thinking of
is on the struggling rosebush
that your mother planted in your childhood front yard.
The flower blooming in the sky
Its the flower of hope
It carries raindrops and mildew of rhymes
In its ever broadening scope
The flower blooming in the sky
Its the flower of hope
It blooms into wonderful times
Just like a vision that a floats
The flower blooming in the sky
Its the flower of hope
It seldom withers into the night
But today is undoubtably mine!
it's just like this
it all stays in here
with just one kiss
it all becomes clear
like the flower that blossoms
like the tide that ebbs
like a small insect captured
in love's intricate web
for all that was
and what's yet to be
all that's ahead
that cannot be seen
my heart's revolution
as you pump through my soul
fragmented sections
now once again whole
it's just like this
it all stays in here
with just one kiss
it all becomes clear
like the flower that blossoms
like the tide that ebbs
like a small insect captured
in love's intricate web
True love is like a flower that continues to blossom
Written By Dean Masciarelli
September 20, 2010 (12:53pm)
True love is like a flower
that continues to blossom
as long as you are with the
right person
They will always be the right one
But if they aren't the right one
They can give you a lot of
heart ache and pain and suffering
that you never needed from anyone
But we do learn
our lessons
from time to time
And we realize that in order to
get love that we have to give
love just as much in return
Let’s pretend I know how to tell the secret.
The secret of our lives.
Like children running mad into each other.
Like bank exchanges in line.
Finally at the window,
And no one understands a thing.
The mind that forgot me has made up a new name.
I was a flower until the age of yesterday.
And we forget that some people haven’t learned how to say please.
The word “please.”
I'm trying to help a child pronounce the word, “puh-leeee-zzz…”
And that’s all he wants to do.
So that he can make bubbles
And watch them float up into the sky.
And stim off them.
Riddled with tumours, his brain does ecstatic flip-flops
As the world makes glee visible and soluble in his hands.
His tiny baby hands…
He’s 15-year-old.
That’s all he wants to do.
Who am I to stop him?
Where and when do you resist love?
So you slowly remove all the licenses…
And everywhere you step is new territory.
And with every terrifying day you are glad.
The flower wailing and writhing in the wind
Awaits the sun and within it it basks...
The causal pulse returns.
Today I saw a man pick a Flower with his hand. A Flower that has bloomed and died but, her
thorns still prick his hand. And yet he holds her withered petals, hoping they will rise.
Deep down inside of him, he knows this Flower died.
I have a dried flower garden inside of my heart....
with a big Silver Rose as my centerpiece part....
Many have contributed their flowers in bloom...
some have given in joy, while some ended in doom....
I used to have a gardener....
who tended with such care.....
My beautiful Silver Rose.....
but she is no longer there.....
She pampered and nurtured...
as time went on......
But now I guess its time.....
she found a new home.....
In time I know that more flowers will appear....
to add to the ones that are already here.....
But of all of the flowers that lie in my chest....
My Silver Rose is the flower I love the best.....
She is the one who stands out......
the one that I most adore.....
My Silver Rose...........
For now and ever more........