Details | Flower Poem |

MY GARDEN
My garden is such a colourful sight,
with pretty roses and scented sweet peas.
An abundance of blooms, what pure delight!
Beautiful butterflies gently alight
on flowers dancing on the summer breeze.
My garden is such a colourful sight
Sweet night scented stocks abloom at midnight
their aroma is always sure to please.
An abundance of blooms, what pure delight!
Carnations in purple, scarlet and white
are visited by busy bumble bees.
My garden is such a colourful sight
A haven for birds I watch them in flight
they alight on peach blossom from the trees.
An abundance of blooms, what pure delight!
Pretty pansies smile in clay pots so bright
I love beautiful flowers such as these.
My garden is such a colourful sight
An abundance of blooms, what pure delight!
190 syllables, 10 syllables per line checked with how many syllables

Contest Villanelle me flowers Sponsored by Broken Wings

06~13~16

Copyright JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2016

Details | Flower Poem |

The Flower -part oneA Flowers Wilt

Witness the small existence
that abides the beauty of----------Freelancers all around,
Just to get a good look.
A baneful abrasion, the flower took
It captivates you ------------Reels you, steals from you,
WAITING,
Until you pick the right flawless touch.
Dandelions swaying thin,
Here we fall like petals.
Ready to exploit, the beauty of------Inhale the fragrance,
Courtyard azure eyes,
Embarking in a wishful eternity,
A crush they become, when loveliness up and left.
A bully against arrogant threw feminine perfumed veils
Tulips waiting for the better auspicious sky
Asters claim the eclipse's,
-dinginess censors it from the brilliance of the sun.
~
A lonely rose
In My Helix WorldThe out-and-out are born.
Cries in the dimness,
A sweet Lotus echo
Slight yelps of agony carried off by pollen breeze.
The earth revolves to fast,
Injections of herbal essence in the wind
For a split second, we feel pixie dust
Channel the essential, it fades
Earlier beauty, calmness-

A flourish smile,
Rusk of flower, a bluebirds bread.
Like candles and dew, they stream and limber energy
Opposing others of its humanity,
Against the command of its importance,
Pierced by its own elegance,
Thriving slowly of its own will,
A short story, gone astray!
Tonight, we plant a tree,
The Flower wilts
The gardener cries

03-06-13

Copyright Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013

Details | Flower Poem |

TO THE FLOWER
TO THE FLOWER
Your scent beckoned my weeping heart to painless flight;
amidst a garden where God dusts His pretty love.
Spring tints are pure and fragrant, free of guilt
Your hues painted another sunrise for my eyes;
when once I failed to catch the pledge of morn.
A seed of hope was born to white petals blush.
Though there are silhouettes of bitter yesterdays
must all the phantoms of illusions fade and leave...?
Your floating aroma stirred and shot my nerves;
inspiring a nightingale to sing some joyous laments;
It swayed with grace to dance on wind's despotic beat.
among the rustling leaves which hug the earth below;

So like the sun, which from distant horizon smiles;

it roused the sleepy world to begin the pen of baby prose.
The unfolding mystery of your petals brought
my bewildered mind to peacock's reflection.
Alas! All was transient. These eyes probe beneath
but were blinded by the intrusion of some stray shine;
Ambitions which from afar are building sprout;
t'is that which let this self to irksome doubt.
Lovely blossom of the wild, this sojourner nigh
to tame your perfume's sweet stinging scent.
A restless soul by some wicked, destiny pokes;
someone called--- but pity, I couldn't tell a note.
If by magic, a butterfly I could become;
Let it be over my being slowly span.
Then with you
(though the specters in our midst are fierce),
I could jet fly though miseries without fear.
But am just a mortal of faith that blows this wish
for only covenants call for my journey still?
I cannot be forever the one who would share your sweetness;
(Harken, fairies of blooms, this wilderness is not my lair.)
I shall not want to witness you wilt as no time left to stay.
Never again will you see me at day-break's bloom,
save something special for others to experience you.
This fleeting apparition I so adored;
promised me burgeoning petals.
"Be not afraid as seasons change,
beyond today, I won't be here to see that no harm
be done with all intentions to your sacred charm.
As today,
I leave you to Mother's Nature tender care,
for I must go to some greater musing-- heaven's ground.
Wilt not, as soon the rain will dash, refreshing you my dear.
If I return someday-will your sublime scent still be here?"

__________________________________________________________
Your Best Poem - Poetry Contest
Sponsor Shadow Hamilton
~~3rd place~~
Free Verse, Prose Poetry, haibun - Poetry Contest
Sponsor Debbie Guzzi
~~2nd Place~~
POEM OF THE DAY: October 21, 2015
Inspired by Susan Seddon Boulet's painting:
-----http://media-cachecd0.pinimg.com/236x/1d/c4/37/1dc437f88c0cfb2fbcc9333bd35bb8c3.jpg

Olive Eloisa Guillermo

October 20, 2014, 10:19 pm

Copyright Olive Eloisa Fraser | Year Posted 2014

Details | Flower Poem |

Night-Blooming Jasmine
Night-Blooming Jasmine

expert seducer with soft silky lips, silver blue moon

sweetly kisses a slumbering beauty awakening desire;
greeting her lover, Night-Blooming Jasmine unfolds perfumed petals

Copyright Pandita Sanchez | Year Posted 2014

Details | Flower Poem |

Without Hope's Gleam

The flower that is given little light
tastes not enough of joy and cannot thrive then fades away like dusk into the night.
The soul who struggles just to stay alive much like the flower wilting in the dark tastes not enough of joy and cannot thrive.
How can a fire be lit if theres no spark?
Without hopes gleam, the soul will waste away much like the flower wilting in the dark.
This is the plight of one whose world is grey:
Though others say a paradise exists without hopes gleam, the soul will waste away.
A man upon this earth who tastes no bliss
is like a soul brought low who droops his head
though others say a paradise exists.
How sad that someone rather would be dead!
The flower that is given little light
is like a soul brought low who droops his head,
then fades away . . . like dusk into the night.
Written 11/15/12
For the "Hope" Poetry Contest of Craig Cornish
and now for the contest of Nathan A