I wrote your hair into a poem
And it looks like allium
I weaved my words into a tiny strand of hair just to get your beautiful design done
You made me write your name on sunflower ???? when i touched it
Yesterday was a better half of you
Today is a name that stands with you
Every line of your hair
Represent each stanza of my words
Every color you find admiring
Represent the smile that comes to me when i see you
I wrote your hair into a poem
And it looks like allium
gazing at the sky
happy little faces
bow to their sun god
Nature’s patterns repeat—they’re alive,
From meandering rivers and butterfly wings,
To zebra stripes and the leopard’s spots—
Patterns appear wherever you look.
Now don’t be deceived—nature has its tricks,
Some patterns shift; it’s a survival instinct.
Take the tide, drawn by the pull of the moon—
No wave reaches shore in quite the same place.
The spider’s web, so delicate and thin,
Its shape shifts when dew settles in.
A snowflake, formed in sixfold symmetry,
Yet no two snowflakes are ever the same.
Tessellating hexagons in hives and mud—
From wax and honey, the patterns take form.
That rainbow up high, with its coloured light,
Shifts and changes with the place you stand.
There are countless more patterns to find,
From grains of sand to lightning on high—
Don’t forget the spiralling sunflower seeds:
Nature’s patterns shift in plain sight.
Tall and majestic,
queen of the meadow,
she stands proudly beneath the summer sky.
Her golden face lifts toward the sun,
as if in silent worship of its light.
Her leaves whisper in the gentle breeze,
while busy bees hum around her radiant crown,
drawn to her beauty
and sweet promise.
Then autumn gently arrives,
with warm days and cool nights—
a quiet reminder
that change will soon come.
Her bright petals drift softly to the earth,
while her seeds ripen beneath the fading sun,
waiting to fall,
to rest,
to grow—
repeating the circle of life once more.
Thousand Watt smile
When spring blooms and joy dances in March
I still miss you, bright like a sunflower
Your sparkling eyes, cheery cheeks, rosy smile
Red thread tied tight around my heart
I remember, beloved girl, when you entered class
Your fragrance spread like lilies in crystal glass
You told wonderland tales, sketched us hand in hand
Your courage and hope always planted light in my heart
I wished you’d stand, you’d walk, you’d hug me close
But Spina bifida kept your feet on the ground
You left us last spring, too soon, too soon
Yet grief cannot dim your thousand-watt smile
soaks sunshine shimmer
fiery slant flower of joy…
golden glow showy
Without the sun, sleeping;
perhaps dreaming, in the grasp
of a brown boy's clasp.
Boy’s head in the crook
of his bent elbow;
his lighter skin contrasts
with his chocolate shirt,
buttoned at the wrist.
He leans contentedly,
over the wooden chair,
whilst the head of the sunflower
with wide open sunshine,
dreams that it’s a gift
given by God,
and gladly sleeps
and dreams
until awakened.
The room’s quiescent darkness
like a warm womb.
The breast of the flower’s stem
leans close to the chair;
large green leaf, rolled;
smaller leaf, chewed.
The boy’s hands in contrast
of light and dark.
Modeling the innocence in sleep,
the one where a mother, or an artist
falls in love once again, and again,
and over again…
God, love each of these children,
given from above.
We wait for the flower to stand up;
one day a man will be as straight
as the chair; and weathered and worn.
For now, and until the end,
he will sleep on a private collector’s wall
or perhaps be sheltered in a museum.
In sunlight,
I thrive,
In sunlight;
Sunflower Zombie is here the corn told the pigs and the fence
They strained to look, wondering about her fashion sense
Bet she’ll be wearing a feathered boa, an old sow said
Bet she’ll be green and ghoulish, after all, she is quite dead.
This was stated by a bull who had been nearby chewing cud.
Don’t mind him, said the fence to the others. He is quite the dud.
Sunflower Zombie sauntered over to give them a little whiff.
She is sure pungent! Said the corn after getting a sniff.
The Dusky-
olive green emerges into pale yellow appearance
thy baton dignifies engagement to Lizzy's emergence.
yellow, a pictogram of thy intellect, insights and joyousness
beholder of polish grace, thou, her unspoken liveliness
Shyness thy sweet ornament, eyes the doors to forgetfulness
O' Darcy,
time cuddles thy wrist, fingers twist around the twig
Thy affection, her reflection, a melody, a mumbling click
Small town boy, thou are, relishing elegance, thou live in
And around where the birds sing and swing for thou, her twin
She too, unheard and undeclared yet integral and transparent grin
Thy sunflower-
Reminds the theory, one for other, forever and ever ahead
Sipping sips from each integrity, their compassion, a consistent thread
Spring welcomes thy counts in; autumn forget his loss even
Only thy persona, twinkles in her literary arena; she choosily given
Thy speed is the speed of light, beyond her serene delight.
She's a growing sunflower
What would you bring
Fire or water?
Death,
Shine down.
Orange moon,
Broken vessel.
Burn bright my flower,
O’ Blackened Sunflower,
Grow and consume, drink all life.
That beautiful withering void.
Gaze upon the glorious decay.
Gaze upon the glow of pitch blackness.
Cut through the flames, Sword of Hades.
Grow tall and strong my flower,
O’ Blackened Sunflower.
Set your heart ablaze,
take back your throne.
Roots, take hold.
My king,
Death.
Sun
flower
r a d i a t e s
bliss of God's hope*
with golden p e t a l s
cheering brightly
staying fresh
to smite
gloom.
*Romans 15:13 Now the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, that ye may abound in hope, through the power of the Holy Ghost.
February 28, 2026
3rd place, "A Nature Ninette Poem" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Tania Kitchin; judged on 3/15/2026
Grandmother was a beauty in her way
Dark brown skin like a Hershey bar
Salt n pepper black hair wisped by wind
As she snaps green peas in a bowl
The sunflowers she planted so romantic
Casting seeds like red roses in the breeze
Feeding the birds in belly and our eyes
Like bowling balls knocking down such sights
Her bare feet ashy knock knees calloused
From praying the most selfless prayers
She dips snuff and spits in an old Pepsi can
Unashamed of her poverty and southern accent
the sunflower doll was from Holland of course
I could tell by the colors said the wise well-seasoned horse
the goats did not know what he was talking about
They did not ask any questions, instead gave a pout.
Blue and yellow are Dutch-like the horse told the pig
A smart animal who asked, and then gave a jig.
Asking questions is a sign that you are quite bright.
The goats continued to wonder, all through the night.
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