Wildflowers Poems

Where the wildflowers grow

When i die,
Lay me by
Where the wildflowers grow

Then as I lay,
You can pray
For my presence to ‘round you flow

And as winter calls,
And the ice falls
And makes my grassy mound rise with snow

Let spring bloom,
Flowers on my tomb
Grow in the sun’s heat and the wind’s gentle blow

As summer rises,
Bringing heat to new sizes
And away my spirit

Garden Between My Ribs

There is a garden between my ribs,
A hidden place the world can't see.
It blooms in silence, softly lives,
A patch of green inside of me.

I never chose the seeds it sowed,
They came from storms I couldn’t flee.
Each broken word, each heavy load,
Took root beneath my shattered sea.

It grew through cracks, it pierced my bones,
With petals made

Atop the Sapphire Bus

Perched on a sapphire bus, its curves agleam,
In a painted glade where wildflowers teem,
A young man and lady, entwined in a glow,
Bask in love’s fervor, where soft breezes flow.

No tangled forest, but a sketch of delight,
Where a stream’s silver ripples catch dawn’s tender light.
wildflowers and violet blooms burst in the air,
Their petals like whispers, adrift

- Wildflowers -

     ~ wild flowers - active reproduction and spread - the yard is overgrown ~

wildflowers

 

winsome wandering   where whimsical wildflowers whisper~   weeping words

wallflowers

wilting wallflowers wishing they were wild and wooly 

Down Where the Wildflowers Bloom

Down in a cabin built by Daddy’s hand, 
On the far side of her Grandpappy’s land,
Long now forgotten but once filled with life,
Daddy and Momma as husband and wife…
And only one child survived Momma’s womb
Down where the wildflowers bloom.

A beautiful child, as stories would tell,
Who danced through fields in a dress of pastel,
The pride of

Undergrowth with Two Figures - Van Gogh

a statement in their freedom of expression
the verdant undergrowth – 
a green carpet, indispersed with yellow, white and rose flowers –
leaning away from the regimental lines of the centre lane of poplars
the tree trunks, a whimsical hue of lilac
a profound blend of renewal, early love, and spiritual wisdom
in the overall aesthetics 
a contrast in colour

Blackbirds And Wildflowers

My mind’s where fairy tales reside,
where a mote and castle collide;
A prince on a porcelain steed,
running away with him I’m freed;

Maybe a kingdom made of waves,
it’s wily princess misbehaves;
Locked inside it’s turbulent walls,
‘Anywhere but here!’ her soul calls;

When the darkness closes my eyes
I open them to salmon skies;
Blackbirds and vibrant wildflowers,
reality my daydream scours;

He and

Wildflowers

Do you ever wonder why when girls name themselves
They always choose the names of flowers it's because we were meant to be wild
We were meant to dance barefoot on hallowed ground
To long for the moon
We were born of stars, of the Earth
Oceans and Rivers
In our veins lies a magic as old as time itself
These bodies

Where Wildflowers Bloom

Come with me where wildflowers bloom
Among weeds in the meadow we'll dance
Each day we'll meet and hold hands at dusk
delighting in the change of colors in the sky
When the moon glows with pearlescent light
we'll spend the night beneath a million stars

Ghost Bike

pink fireweed blooms
through the spokes of the ghost bike 
beside the highway 

A New Day - Wildflowers

Roads long squandered,
Routes trained to memory.
a crack in the long unyielding concrete
unremarkable.

Then, a wildflower
A peculiar pink.
Leather, nostalgia.
Cinnamon, mellow.

Stop dead in my tracks,
Wistful, yearn.
Many a while did I dream of creation
After all, what does it take?
Soil, water, an undefeated soul.

Many a while did I long for something that called me God.
Many a while did I pick

The Potter's Field

No gravestone witnessed on these grounds,
Field of Blood the worn sign read.
Blue flowers thrive with tinge of white
within this field where mercy runs;

Countless folk lie buried here
Abandoned, forgotten– these dead.
Still nature honors them with care
each June when wild cornflowers bloom.

Moon and Cows

I see you through the purple flowers. 
Heart churning in your chest. 
Sitting cross legged, pumped with powers.
Crowning chastity through your crest.

Wildflowers hear your song, for it is their song too. 
The bumblebee lies atop your head, buzzing with the tune. 
Cows grazing in the field below begin to sway and moo. 
Red and orange

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