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Flowers

poet Anonymous

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poet Anonymous

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ImperfectedStone
The Gardener
Tyrant of Words
United Kingdom 28awards
Joined 10th Oct 2010
Forum Posts: 1347

Mumblings of the Gardener

Their headdresses colour the man-made garden of Eden,  
and I wade through, on a wandering, plucking every third -
From hellebore to forget me not,  
tulip to fritillary,  
daffodil to hyacinth - In my basket breeds a yield of treasure
to brighten a home so sunken in Winter
we'd almost forgotten  
Spring would come again
and to rock those chills  
upon gentle lullaby
of Osmanthus and Viburnum,
the banshees of scent,  
sat on the old wooden swing.
Don't mind the birds who swoop overhead
and sing against the wind chime hanging from the Summerhouse,
don't mind the tadpoles, chasing their siblings deep in the pond,
don't mind the sycamore's seedlings and slug eggs -
Note they are treasures too,
in this working space,
make shift a vase from an old milk bottle
and enjoy only what Mother Nature gifts you -
Beyond all else, don't punish her with chemical mixtures made by man,  
for if you truly loved the soil you live on, the dirt flowers grow in, you would not.
Enjoy this ever changing Earth,
enjoy this soft, Spring day.
Written by ImperfectedStone (The Gardener)
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Jade-Pandora
jade tiger
Tyrant of Words
United States 154awards
Joined 9th Nov 2015
Forum Posts: 5134

Rain-kissed!☔️

( a Quatern )
 
I hear the rain-kissed flowerbeds,
For many years were dry from drought.
I rush outside and weep instead,
And dance my bare feet all about!
 
To see the puddles form throughout,
I hear the rain-kissed flowerbeds.
I dream of blooms, I sing and shout,
To know rebirth is just ahead!
 
I shut my eyes, tilt back my head,
And feel the shower soak my hair.
I hear the rain-kissed flowerbeds,
Imagine, blossoms everywhere!
 
There isn’t time to waste, I think,
Back in the kitchen, seeds to tread.
The flowerpots stacked in the sink,
I hear the rain-kissed flowerbeds!
Written by Jade-Pandora (jade tiger)
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poet Anonymous

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Tallen
earth_empath
Tyrant of Words
32awards
Joined 15th Oct 2018
Forum Posts: 2289

Inflorescence

The more I pruned their branches
all the more they flowered.
Attempts to stem these Desert Willows
caused them to prolifically
produce and create --
still rooted in natural
Beauty.

Interestingly noted this
southwestern tree,
Chilopsis, when drunk --
too much raining
they die
begin return & sink.

I dare not look her way
nor succumb to her prose
nor swoon to her nature
rapt in longing sway
in winds of arid desert sandy
grounds.

I would easily do the things
I’m not supposed to do.
I could easily love You
fall gently into Your pistil
and drown in Your
serene sweet nectar.

When I go hiking in the
Arizona Desert,
I must be careful
for distracted
I know I would willingly
get lost


…………in You.
Written by Tallen (earth_empath)
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poet Anonymous

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JusTim_
Tyrant of Words
United States 26awards
Joined 22nd Jan 2017
Forum Posts: 171

She's Beautiful

Warm breezes wrap upon pale cheeks  
song birds chirping with a hint of spring  
yellow daises and pure white calla lilies
calls out from nature, "come and see"  
 
come and see my beauty  
my vibrance, my green  
come and take a smile  
refreshing and free  
 
sit and watch my apple blossoms  
exploding off limbs  
float away with daybreak  
cascading 'cross nature's wings  
 
bathe longingly in my fragrance  
as I wrap love around your sheets  
walk on through these gardens  
in one of many glorious retreats  
 
come and taste my magic  
so wet, so pure, so clean  
flowing down my mountainsides  
quenching thirsts in all you've seen  
 
feel and touch my glory  
that lives under a bright blue sky  
sharing gifts of happiness  
where dreams take off and fly
Written by JusTim_
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poet Anonymous

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wallyroo92
Tyrant of Words
United States 147awards
Joined 11th July 2012
Forum Posts: 1796


Birds of Paradise

“Look!” she says “Over yonder!”
(Well, she doesn’t really speak that way,
But for poetical purposes let’s pretend)
Pointing to some so flowers,
“They’re called Birds of Paradise”,
I’m entranced by her fascination,
Her appreciation for the colors and the shapes,
The way the sway in the wind,
But I can’t help but get lost in her eyes.

She takes simple pleasures in the gifts of Mother Nature,
Like scenic portraitures,
Lost in the beauty of life springing up in urban places,
And one does not notice these things
In busy city streets,
Until one takes the time to look for these earthly graces.

Yet I, in my admiration of her,
Stay silent in the significance of this sacred wonder,
Smiling with total and utter respect,
Pondering how the rest of my days,
I will always think of her whenever I see them.

I kiss her hand, like a delicate petal,
Smell the fragrance from her skin and look into her eyes,
I remain still, quietly thinking,
She’s my little bird, my flower and this is my paradise.

Ahavati
Tyrant of Words
United States 116awards
Joined 11th Apr 2015
Forum Posts: 14592

Wild Daisies

Wild Daisies
Ahavati
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poet Anonymous

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poet Anonymous

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eleven_mashariki
Twisted Dreamer
1awards
Joined 24th Feb 2018
Forum Posts: 8

Good one.

slipalong
Dangerous Mind
United Kingdom 41awards
Joined 1st Jan 2018
Forum Posts: 825

The wreath

The pit of lime that is memory
it eats and digests constantly
for that was bright and shining once
and had great life and countenance
that splashed with laughters springtime showers
that growth of everlasting lookout towers
to reach and saw what lay ahead
 dangers fungal mold traps signals that are red
for headonistic lives dont give a fuck
they never stop they shoot it up
that Viagra stiffness upward thrust
screaming as their long stems cut short
the boquets full of dying buds
stand in the vase refreshed with tears of celophane
tributes wither tortured wraped in wire
now left thirsty and alone the sun and wind
hushed words of kind discard, are now exposed
from the greenhouse to the world of pain
a life from innocence and cultured grace to beside the grave
that hydroponics gave our sorrow that relief
of beauty spontainiously deceased
Written by slipalong
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