Wilted Poems

Wilted

The end. Like the roses you got me, which wilted away. Even though I tried, and I stored them in a vase for my eyes to later be graced with their pretty petals and warm embrace. Then one night in the dark, in the passenger seat of your car, you said, "this is it", because

Wilted Echoes

Opened the doors wide,
To the soft morning light,
And the grey windows too,
For the morning breeze.

Love alone, we thought,
Will teach them the 'hows' 
To pat-hug with gentle care,
While holding them dear.

Let it slide and slip away,
we told our silly selves—
let the slimy words go,
Numb the heavy hands.

Turn a little deaf today,
To all the bruising noise,
Turn a

Wilted Flowers

Wilted Flowers

What’s happened to Justice 
and speaking truth to power
When people protested
With a peace sign and flower

Yes times are changing
Evil has invaded thoughts
The shifting of power
In madness you’re caught

Now you attack each other
It seems so black and white
The poor bow to the rich
Things have shifted far right

Neighbors fighting neighbors 
You believe it’s fake news
Instead of

Long Hours and a few Dying Flowers

Long hours tick by, slow and cold
As petals drop, and beauty grows old
A few dying flowers, once full of grace
Now wilted, faded, without a trace

Of vibrancy, of life, of color bright
Leaving only memories, a distant light
The hours drag on, a relentless pace
As beauty fades, and time takes its place

Yet in the wilting, there's a strange

THE BREATH OF LOST DAYS

She was there, the wilted flower of a day gone by,  
Hair in disarray, and eyes tender,  
He spoke of her with passion, like one speaks of an innocent fool,  
Hands trembling from having loved her blindly.  
Time slipped away, a faithful companion to taciturn distress,  
The sky weighed heavy,

In the shadow of a wilted evening, where busy spiders spin their fragile thoughts

In the shadow of a wilted evening, where busy spiders spin their fragile thoughts,
Lacking the substance for a solid tome, losing tenure and academic appointments,
They fill their purses by spreading confusion among the naive minnows,
Seeing nothing but their own grimacing faces in a delirium of mirrors.
Most of all, I doubt the rare and sincere ones,
Masters

Wilted Wings

My kinship with withdrawal and isolation goes way back.
So much history shared between us
To make me the person I am today.
As I suppressed words and emotions,
Destruction joined hands with me.
I wasted all that potential, as if under influence
And I left myself to deteriorate;
Not to be one with the soil
But to be a futile wreckage under

Wilted Summer Smiles

weary 
Deep in warm wine 
Outshining russet moon 
Glazed in the glow of honey glass 
Gold breeze

Drifting
Along the flood 
Of wilted summer smiles, 
While my sky sings in the fall of
Silence

Wilted Flowers

once lively they stood
summer heat takes their last breath
one by one they wilt


9-25-23

Wilted Flower

A wild flower child
Was so careless for short while.
Then so suddenly
Something broke her lovely smile;
Withered through a fate so vile.

A Wilted Rose

Wilted rose petals
unable to attract bees.
Concubine's mirror
holds the reflection of gloom
as she daubs rouge on wrinkles.


Date: 08/19/2022

Note: For the contest (Bite Size Poem no51) by Line Gauthier.
         Honorable Mention

Wilted

Rancid lilies stream the rim
     of wicker baskets
     like wilted soldiers rank and file
Fatigued and sweaty
They salute a mournful throng
     with dampened pistols
     and burnished brass.
Hate every passion screaming
     for a drink of water
 

The Wilted Flower

Once upon  a time, 
In the middle of a September
Along a long, winding path near the creek,
I spotted the most beautiful thing. 
A flower that has yet to bloom,
The potential of life radiated through and through.
Excited was I to witness something so pure and true.
Not wanting to miss its life unfold
I visited the flower

Wilted Flowers

i paved blooming garden path to walk with you… flowers wilted waiting

August 26, 2020
Syllable count : 17
Checked on howmanysyllables.com
Contest : When Plans Dont Go To Plan
Sponsor : Silent One

The Waiting Rose Wilted

The wings of hued lattice fluttered in ecstasy
in the silken stream of the mesmeric morning air,
sprinkling the spectrum of chromatic shower
from the overturned pallet of the colorful sky.

From the yonder milieu of blooming yellow wetland,
a butterfly flew in with the patina of golden fervor,
through the melting archway of the rainbow dreams
to my enchanted garden of

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