Poetry competition CLOSED 23rd April 2023 9:36am
WINNER
Bluevelvete
Bluevelvete
Flowers
Bloom
Flowers to me are a symbol of life
Of beauty and color, free from strife
They remind me of new beginnings and hope
Of love and joy, and how to cope
In weddings, they symbolize the start of something new
A fresh and vibrant love that will continue to bloom
Their sweet fragrance fills the air with delight
And sets the tone for a future that's bright
At funerals, they offer solace and peace
A reminder that even in death, life will never cease
Their soft petals and gentle hues
Bring comfort and hope to those who mourn and lose
In gardens, they are a treasure to behold
A peaceful haven where the mind and spirit can unfold
Their beauty is a reminder that life is fragile yet strong
And that amidst the chaos, we can still find a song
Flowers to me are a precious gift
A reminder that life is meant to be lived
Their essence lingers long after they are gone
And reminds us to keep moving on.
Of beauty and color, free from strife
They remind me of new beginnings and hope
Of love and joy, and how to cope
In weddings, they symbolize the start of something new
A fresh and vibrant love that will continue to bloom
Their sweet fragrance fills the air with delight
And sets the tone for a future that's bright
At funerals, they offer solace and peace
A reminder that even in death, life will never cease
Their soft petals and gentle hues
Bring comfort and hope to those who mourn and lose
In gardens, they are a treasure to behold
A peaceful haven where the mind and spirit can unfold
Their beauty is a reminder that life is fragile yet strong
And that amidst the chaos, we can still find a song
Flowers to me are a precious gift
A reminder that life is meant to be lived
Their essence lingers long after they are gone
And reminds us to keep moving on.
Written by mcjay
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Twelve white roses
Twelve white roses on the small cenotaph
For the man who'd seen to the terrible crash
Which had taken the life of her monstrous huband
A few years back.
Twelve white roses for Jim, who preferred men, secretly
But who loved her unconditionally
Worked for him, publishing books at Gray and Grey
In that mansion up the hill most every day.
Her jealous husband never understood
But Jim saw the bruises, knew she had troubles
Contacted friends from his turbulent past back in the 'hood
They knew how to make inconveniences disappear
Lung cancer had recently taken Jim away
The irony, for he'd never touched a cigarette in his life
So on occasion she was here to remember the good times
To tell him how she would have loved to have been his wife.
For the man who'd seen to the terrible crash
Which had taken the life of her monstrous huband
A few years back.
Twelve white roses for Jim, who preferred men, secretly
But who loved her unconditionally
Worked for him, publishing books at Gray and Grey
In that mansion up the hill most every day.
Her jealous husband never understood
But Jim saw the bruises, knew she had troubles
Contacted friends from his turbulent past back in the 'hood
They knew how to make inconveniences disappear
Lung cancer had recently taken Jim away
The irony, for he'd never touched a cigarette in his life
So on occasion she was here to remember the good times
To tell him how she would have loved to have been his wife.
Written by robert43041
(Viking)
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Innocence of flowers
Morning comes,
the sun rises
and the black sky
turns bluish n white.
and the twinkling stars
of the sky,
comes to the earth
and turns into
the beautiful flowers.
they become guests
of the world of butterflies
and make the surrounding
world fragrant
they are companions
of young age
but keep laughing
whole life
they adorns the nature
and bows down
at the feet of the Lord
they get excited by
the touch of a light breeze
and never they complain
even when a fierce storm comes.
they are so beautiful
but yet they are not
worshipers of pride
they bloom even
in the mud,
and keep on smelling
even after falling in
the filth of the garbage.
Sometimes they make
their existence by
tearing apart cement concrete.
sometimes they adorns
someone's hair too,
and respects someone's
dead body too.
Sometimes they become
witnesses to the
new journey of someone's life
and sometimes they are involved
in mending someone's broken life.
they also get involved
in the sparkling love of two people.
Sometimes they make a day of a person
who lives under stress and
living in the odor of medicines,
sometimes they makes
the falling dew sit on their lap,
and gives them a love
and sometimes they face
the red eyes of the sun.
these flowers!!!!
awwww these wonderful flowers!!!
they are very soft and
very beautiful and colorful,
they bloom in every season
and make the earth a heaven.
Written by dimpy
(dimpsmoon)
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The Rose
Hatred is a bitter rose
And blooms where bitterness will please
The warmest hearts, its charm has froze
And none escape its tortured freeze
A boy betrayed by mothers love
A girl ensnared by father's pains
A lover's lust that kills a dove
A friend no traitor yet regains
A wise man wrote that bitterness
Can rot the bone like mold
And no-one can betray the thought
Nor wise, nor young, nor old
For men have held that bitter rose
Whose thorns within them lay
Whose wounds they say they cannot feel
From scars of yesterday
And though the thorns that pierce so deep
Within the hand don't bleed
Far gone the tears of red we weap
When men let flowers lead
And some men cry when they let go
And in their writhing pain
They pray to God that they may know
That Love is not in vain
They hurt a time and half a time
And ages roll on by
And yet they're free to find their rhyme
And bask in Love devine
And blooms where bitterness will please
The warmest hearts, its charm has froze
And none escape its tortured freeze
A boy betrayed by mothers love
A girl ensnared by father's pains
A lover's lust that kills a dove
A friend no traitor yet regains
A wise man wrote that bitterness
Can rot the bone like mold
And no-one can betray the thought
Nor wise, nor young, nor old
For men have held that bitter rose
Whose thorns within them lay
Whose wounds they say they cannot feel
From scars of yesterday
And though the thorns that pierce so deep
Within the hand don't bleed
Far gone the tears of red we weap
When men let flowers lead
And some men cry when they let go
And in their writhing pain
They pray to God that they may know
That Love is not in vain
They hurt a time and half a time
And ages roll on by
And yet they're free to find their rhyme
And bask in Love devine
Written by EleazarSwan
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Related submission no longer exists.
Flowers
endless paths
in the garden
crumbs alms
camellias
cut buttons
lost flowers
spike capsules
anemones
birds fall from the sky
like sheets of paper
with little errands
by postal air
crickets cicadas
tulips
rain wet paths
crushed petals
jasmine pistil stalks
dark garden paths
love ghosts
between leaves
pain ghosts
in the dew
rosehips oak acorns
paths without beginning
no end
clouds that pass like this
bluebells tendrils
strawberries
loves blackberries
bitter days
sparrow bees traps
lost paths on the ground!
PAR
in the garden
crumbs alms
camellias
cut buttons
lost flowers
spike capsules
anemones
birds fall from the sky
like sheets of paper
with little errands
by postal air
crickets cicadas
tulips
rain wet paths
crushed petals
jasmine pistil stalks
dark garden paths
love ghosts
between leaves
pain ghosts
in the dew
rosehips oak acorns
paths without beginning
no end
clouds that pass like this
bluebells tendrils
strawberries
loves blackberries
bitter days
sparrow bees traps
lost paths on the ground!
PAR
Written by PAR
(PAULO ACACIO RAMOS)
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