Short Flower Girl Poems
Short Flower Girl Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Flower Girl by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Flower Girl by length and keyword.
~ a teenage girl plays ~
~ he loves me, he loves me not ~
~ with a sunflower ~
Date written: 07/19/2019
Flower Girl
Special day
Gentle curl
Fragrant bouquet
Soft spoken words
Adorned with lace
Seed for the birds
Smiles crown her face
Copyright McCuen 2009
In a field of time, remote,
I'm destined to forever float.
Once, I was sure-footed,
youthful and firmly rooted
till a little girl went "puff".
Now I'm only dandefluff.
In the trash goes
the wilted bouquet of peonies
he meant to give the girl
that caught his eye
The shy boy lacks the courage
to do so! He's moving on, I surmise?
Date written: 06/20/2019
'O little!'. Beguilement
And its surprise
Are what's articulated.
Not just a size.
Yet where is that rareness
Blushed child's hereround?
That hard climb, hard crawl for
Its flowered ground?
Sophie
Fell from heaven
Hated and abandoned
Trodden under by everyone
Trapped in the cracks of the earth by her roots
A lamb came to the lonely sun
And lifted the flower
Who is known as
Sophie
Little Island Girl
picking a bouquet
of a floral garden land
tropical garden
picking a bouquet
is such a little darling
little Island Girl...
11/13/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019©
Petite orange carrots were slipping off of her hat
Lilies and petunias said “what do you think of that?”
Roses and carnations gave a little appreciation dance.
Celery and parsley flavored a stew south of France.
I'd the flower girl for the flowers, swap
in my neighborhood flower shop,
a secret that nobody knows,
unless the blooms themselves disclose -
double crossed by a discerning nose
and a double agent, double rose.
in wonderment she waltzed to womanhood -
wildflower whirlwind
met world
A daisy-faced sky. Of all
Reawoke freshness
The most trustful lit, so leant
In its cheerfulness.
Pale, spotless, impeccable.
Where's its schoolgirl's mime?
Besides, Day, as flushed to greet
Its well past which time!
Romantic-minded, young flower girl in delicate chiffon blue
Flipped her dainty lace petticoats up; her name was Lu.
Her lively hands kept touching the embroidered flowers.
She was excited about the wedding and all the showers
Glittering beauty her name is Gladiolus
Into blossom of her ringing heart Geranium
Rich spectrum of different colors Gerbera
Leaving most in mute admiration Gardenia
Light and lithe Lily, the monarch flower girl has unusual DNA
With droplets of butterfly and hummingbird glitz merry and gay.
Surrounded by the magic of the elements, determined to stay
She enhances the garden and meadow in a marvelous new way.
Spring Awakes
Robin
Maternal builders
Patiently gather debris
Fragile wombs of blue
Cherry Tree
Blushing pink petals
Tossed in my path with shy love
Nature's flower girl
Budding Beauty
Nourished by warm sun
Buds awaiting deep within
Icy tree limbs melt
Light is white
you are light-skinned
through the triangular prism light
is branched into seven different colors
your name is of a flower
if you are to be travelling through a triangular prism
must it be you also shall be branched into seven
different flowers
only nature holds the key to that...
My dearest little garden
that grows my plants
The finest yard of numerous
that holds my beauty
My wholeness that grants my draft.
My obese garden that stays and stands
Even though you know I am a Yokel.
I owe you much
My till, till and till.
My own mine, I whole you all
Cos you have stood by me
In no place and less vacuum.
Fearless heart.
current of
bravo river ...
Beating heart
tidal wave
tsunami desire and wants:
Heart Suit
female of nature
meek of placid lagoon ...
Woman's heart
of vibrant joy
flower girl
of age, for
idyllic adventure,
loving
permanent....
Happiness is promised
eternal, supernatural love and
a joyful life ...!
A dreamy girl hides her wishful eyes
under her fingers and white daisies;
who wonders what she's thinking?
Is it a wish or the surge of a feeling?
Those fragile dainty daisies of late spring
must be unplucked soon, and if she believes
her love is pure, it needs no further revealing;
will she revive her dream and put on wings?
ATTIRE
featherboa smog
bright lights sequin dusk dark hills
night's new age dress code
STEP UP
pots with crimson blooms
soft touch on iron railings
worn steps rise as guide
GIRL ON A SWING
wooden slats child's play
bent forward as long chains squeak
she dries washed long hair
12-07-2017
Rose to a rose
I pick up a flower one day on a walk.
It stood there all a lone.
A pretty flower indeed.
A rose in was red in color.
Then I was thinking about any other flower she too was a rose.
Hair is so red that you would think the sky sets it a fire.
A rose for a rose I did consider. What a pretty way to say
I love you my rose.
In a field of time, remote,
I'm destined to forever float.
Once, I was sure-footed,
youthful and firmly rooted
until a little girl went "puff",
and now I'm only dandefluff.
As time marched on, aloof,
a little girl went "poof".
Skies, like hair, turned to grey,
and a dandelion had her day,
but, in memory, I ring true,
in a sunlit sky of blue.
I wonder where she bleeds her ink
Now where are her wonderful words
Kinetic magnetic that make one think
Emerald elegant flight of glass bird
Maybe she has found new ground
Poetic electric energy in another world
Red roses for her if she is found
Embracing her as a favorite flower girl
Satin words sing softly of wet eyes
Sweet Empress of Ink is she alive
On my phone there is a file saved "Sunflower."
And if you look inside you'd fine much more than stunning yellow flowers.
You'd find screen shots of a beautiful girl.
Her blonde hair unkempt,
Her Caribbean blue eyes; they remind me of the sky!
I call her sunflower because she loves them.
I love them.
And I love her.
My wonderful sunny flower girl, I love her.
The thorn of a pretty rose
pierce thy heart
like the thorn of a rose
does thy finger
your intention
is like that of the thorn
made to puncture
and to hurt
to tear at the flesh
of my being
the only thing
a thorn of a pretty rose
can't do
is flirt
but at the end
of its purpose
it to like you
wines up in the dirt.
written by sarah linklater
25th march 2015