Weeds are flowers too, once you get to know them.
quote by A.A. Milne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Women.
Alas! we women are the fools of you:
You mould us and you mar us — we are yours,
And ever have been since the birth of love,
Flowers cherished for a while, soon to be cast
As weeds away; and yet as weeds in the mire
Our fading hues breathe to the last of you.
poem by Robert Crawford
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Flowers Of Tomorrow
Forget unkind words and deeds
For life is a ground of weeds
Where you have to sow the seeds
Of happiness to get rid of weeds
With the weeds of pain and sorrow
And hope for the flowers for tomorrow
That will bloom evenin narrow
Path of joy to bring you tomorrow
A bright tomorrow where will shine
The sun of joy all for mine
That will spread the joy of wine
To bring joy to thee and mine.
Seema Chowdhury
poem by Seema Chowdhury
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Change In Perspective
A change in perspective
will change a sunshine filled hour
into a melting, hot, and unbearable eternity.
A change in perspective
will change a meadow of flowers
into a plot of weeds.
A change in perspective
will change a barren wasteland
into a field of opportunity.
A change in perspective
will change a bleak, dark room
into a place of sweet rest.
A change in perspective
is all anyone needs
so go and change.
Make flowers out of weeds.
inspired by Phillip Kenneth Starck, thank you for your comment
poem by Hidden Poet
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The Garden
CHOKED with ill weeds my garden lay a-dying,
Hard was the ground, no bud had heart to blow,
Yet shone your smile there, with your soft breath sighing:
'Have patience, for some day the flowers will grow.'
Some weeds you killed, you made a plot and tilled it;
'My plot,' you said, 'rich harvest yet shall give,'
With sun-warmed seeds of hope your dear hands filled it,
With rain-soft tears of pity bade them live.
So, weak among the weeds that had withstood you,
One little pure white flower grew by-and-by;
You could not pluck my flower--alas! how should you?
You sowed the seed, but let the blossom die.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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You Radiate, As If a Bouquet of Flowers
Please...
No need to flatter yourself.
I said you radiate,
As if a bouquet of flowers!
I am allergic to flowers!
'Then why would you say,
I 'radiate' like them? '
It's an upgrade from the weeds,
You reminded of.
However...
I still sneeze,
Whenever you are near!
'How can we remedy that.'
One of us will have to take the 'hint'
And stay away!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Letting The Grass Grow
i tried to make this garden clean
from weeds and beetles
i keep it away from worms
only flowers are welcome here
and you know it
things went wrong and you know them
all too well
a broken heart unable to heal itself
a broken self, shattered thoughts
un-assembled un-repaired for years
the expected auto-resolution did not arrive
expectations falling like
domino chips
got tired finally about gardening
the flowers are not that beautiful enough
to appease this grieving mind
got bored with pain
ennui reigning
these benumbing times
too careless
and hurting still
finally, i let the grass grow
the weeds conquer
the beetles breeding like hell
the worms
turning into butterflies
time buds now a flowering.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Flowers of mercy
In the field they are scattered
pink, white and brown-red
and emerge by them self
as if by mercy
and shoot up between blades of grass
and weeds
and the brittle heads
looks almost plastic fine
and still there’s nothing artificial
where the flowers stand in the veldt
with only the rain and sun
going over them.
Your love I also found
so unplanted,
which by its own accord
grows into my depths
and through hard times
still stays with me.
Other flowers
want to bloom around me
and I try and cut old feelings
down short,
as you are the flower
of flowers to me
and I just want to grow
deeper into your soul.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Flowers
(orbison/dees)
When I was a boy I ran among the flowers
Looking left and right at the bright array
I played through the spring, whiled away the hours
Lingered with the flowers every day
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, lifes bouquet
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, along the way
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, lifes bouquet
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, along the way
When the summer ends and the storms of life are over
When the winter comes and the petals fall away
They may write it on my stone, he was just a roller
But he stopped to pick some flowers along the way
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, lifes bouquet
Flowers, picked some flowers, along the way
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mosaic, We Abide
weird-weeds & beetles-bad
unkempt, black fouls
time snobs
fingers-a-pointing
darkness-a-reigning
sweet flower blooms
of summer
butterfly lightness
a flutter
sunshine color rainbows
flumes of clouds
flutes of wind
nature strums
such beauty music
heart bleeds for beetles-bad
and weeds a weirding
rejoice for clouds and flumes
of colors and flute winds
we abide by nature
in perfect goodness
excludes none
punishes no one
weeds a tumble
to flutes singing
and clouds drift
to rainbow colors
rains still showering
earth’s thirst
quenched
everything still
colors mix
sounds blend
bad, good, weeds
flowers, beetles
butterflies
all a flutter a chew
all beautiful
whole and always
a beautiful mosaic
we abide.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Freedom
I’m a weed on
A cliff, I hang out with
An eagle, but maybe the
Flowers are the weeds.
I’m free and they
Are not, I cling to rocks,
They cling to a pot of dirt.
When there is an earthquake
I will be safe but the flowers
Will not. They are plucked
And put into jars of water
They will die, but I will
Live free and long.
poem by Jacob Gifford
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For the sake of the flowers, the weeds are watered.
Your own wealth is flowers and wine; the other man's is but weeds.
Little deeds are like little seeds, they grow to flowers or to weeds.
quote by Daniel D. Palmer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Heavenly Abode
Heavenly abode, I call on you to flirt with me,
Realise my dream, inwardly and outwardly
In the stroke of genius and the intelligence it provides.
Heavens are only being houses of pearls
Meant for the rivers of milk, the honey is everywhere
If you travel far enough and downward
In the aching avenues of grass and no weeds.
There is a garden there of blessings,
Weeds are conquered by flowers of appeal.
The fruit I call upon mutters into my mouth,
This will explode and render me indefensible.
The sheer glory is about of a wonderful time
In the succulent corner of all-existence.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Weeds
In the backyard
Of my heart
I put some seed of love
But weeds grew too fast
Though I used herbicide
But they know how to survive
I threw out the rose, now I love
The weeds for their survival instinct
And power to grow everywhere
Without following any row
My mind follows the heart
And grows too fast like weeds
To pervade to hover
The minds and souls
Of people all over.
poem by Abdul Wahab
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About Us
there are rains
on the days of our lives
and we try to grow flowers
on our fertile grounds
the weeds are there
but they never outgrow
what good seeds
we have put there
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Poem Of Faith
I think that though the clouds be dark,
That though the waves dash o'er the bark,
Yet after while the light will come,
And in calm waters safe at home
The bark will anchor.
Weep not, my sad-eyed, gray-robed maid,
Because your fairest blossoms fade,
That sorrow still o'erruns your cup,
And even though you root them up,
The weeds grow ranker.
For after while your tears shall cease,
And sorrow shall give way to peace;
The flowers shall bloom, the weeds shall die,
And in that faith seen, by and by
Thy woes shall perish.
Smile at old Fortune's adverse tide,
Smile when the scoffers sneer and chide.
Oh, not for you the gems that pale,
And not for you the flowers that fail;
Let this thought cherish:
That after while the clouds will part,
And then with joy the waiting heart
Shall feel the light come stealing in,
That drives away the cloud of sin
And breaks its power.
And you shall burst your chrysalis,
And wing away to realms of bliss,
Untrammelled, pure, divinely free,
Above all earth's anxiety
From that same hour.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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After While. A Poem Of Faith
I THINK that though the clouds be dark,
That though the waves dash o'er the bark.
Yet after while the light will come,
And in calm waters safe at home
The bark will anchor.
Weep not, my sad-eyed, gray-robed maid.
Because your fairest blossoms fade,
That sorrow still o'erruns your cup,
And even though you root them up,
The weeds grow ranker.
For after while your tears shall cease,
And sorrow shall give way to peace;
The flowers shall bloom, the weeds shall die,
And in that faith seen, by and by
Thy woes shall perish.
Smile at old Fortune's adverse tide,
Smile when the scoffers sneer and chide.
Oh, not for you the gems that pale,
And not for you the flowers that fail;
Let this thought cherish:
That after while the clouds will part,
And then with joy the waiting heart
Shall feel the light come stealing in,
That drives away the cloud of sin
And breaks its power.
And you shall burst your chrysalis,
And wing away to realms of bliss,
Untrammelled, pure, divinely free,
Above all earth's anxiety
From that same hour.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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At The Tide's Will
WHEN the tide came surging in
To the beach it bore
Drift-wood and brown weeds —
These — and nothing more!
As the stranded weeds and wood
Borne by the sea,
Tossed at the wind's will,
Even so are we!
When the tide went out again
From the beach, it bore
Drift-wood and brown weeds —
These — and nothing more!
Little peace is ours indeed,
Little rest we know —
Weeds at the Tide's will
Tossed to and fro!
poem by Roderic Quinn
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Sonnet XLIV: Belovèd, Thou Hast Brought Me
Belovèd, thou hast brought me many flowers
Plucked in the garden, all the summer through
And winter, and it seemed as if they grew
In this close room, nor missed the sun and showers.
So, in the like name of that love of ours,
Take back these thoughts which here unfolded too,
And which on warm and cold days I withdrew
From my heart's ground. Indeed, those bed and bowers
Be overgrown with bitter weeds and rue,
And wait thy weeding; yet here's eglantine,
Here's ivy!--take them, as I used to do
Thy flowers, and keep them where they shall not pine.
Instruct thine eyes to keep their colours true,
And tell thy soul, their roots are left in mine.
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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