Oh! Flower, I Feel Sorry For You! ! !
I saw a nice little flower…
Enjoying herself in the nice warm fields…
The place felt fine, what a beautiful sight! !
Why didn’t it come yesterday? !
But the joy didn’t last long enough…what a pity!
‘Cause the flower was plucked away! ! !
It was no longer there
So was the beauty
How gloomy the place felt now for sight! !
Why do flowers bloom, if it has to be murdered this way? ?
Still, they bloom, though they die so prematurely…
But to beautify the Earth! !
Why do we hurt these little things, who give us joy? ?
They are the ones who blooms happiness to the world
Aren’t we too bound to be blossomed into flowers of happiness? ? ?
Oh Flower! ! I feel sorry for you! !
Can you be born again? ?
If I could, I would’ve fixed you into yourself again
But powerless I am…powerless except for eyes that are blind, but see evil thoughts
Why doesn’t man think before his acts? ?
Why doesn't he care about his fellow creatures? ? ?
2006
(Do you think before you act? Such as, when you pick a flower? Do you enjoy the beauty and DO YOU throw it away in the trash? Do you ever think of other people who may also enjoy the beauty?)
© Copyright Aiswarya T Anish, Kerala, India
poem by Aiswarya T. Anish
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A Beautiful Flower Blooming
A withered flower blooming again
breeze shook the flower
the sun is shining on flower
rain water to wash the dust-filled flower
abort storm petals
storm that renders the flower petals
polling beetle sucking painful
flower that bloom so bright today
beauty exudes an aura of coolness of the beholder
spread the fragrance that invites a bee to touch
although many other flowers around it
bees sucking the flower first
choose to suck and touch the flower
lately the flower
always bloom radiate beauty
a bee was not able to get away from the flower
a bee sucking the beautiful bloomington
always produce the honey taste good
really beautiful relationship between the flower and bee
both are very compatible and complement each other
poem by meti Rahmawati
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Why Must We Pick The Flowers?
Why is it
when we see a beautiful flower
our first instinct
is to pick it?
We just want to yank it up
and take it with us
with no regard for the flower.
No guilt in the fact
that it will die within a day or so now.
Wouldn't it be nice
if when we see a flower
we just look and admire
the shape of it's curves
the scent of it's body
the sheer ability to survive
in a world like this?
Yet, rarely do we see one
without thinking of plucking it right up
and keeping it for our very own
with little or no thoughts of
how much joy and beauty
this flower could bring to others.
Is this the selfishness of humans
or do we just think that little
of flowers?
Sonnet: The Flower’s No More
A flower rare grew ’midst the wild flowers,
And had such beauty, words can never tell!
Last year, ’twas born in July-end showers;
This July rain became its fast death knell.
The flower will not grow here-aft again!
No more its sweet perfume shall emanate;
And while alive, this land always did gain;
Some persons didn’t allow it pollinate.
The flower’s dead and none can resurrect!
The time was short for seeds to generate;
But all the time, it stood with grace- Erect!
And gained a place in hearts that venerate.
The flower will not bloom herein again!
Ill-luck had smiled, denying all, its reign.
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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April Flower
Bloom for me,
My April flower.
Show your beauty,
I'll take a gander.
The wind scatters your scent
Giving me the feeling of heaven.
You're the perfection i've dreamt,
The one that i've chosen.
Bloom for me,
My April Flower,
And let me see,
Your petals that matches no other.
I know you're not mine
And you did not grew for me
I can only see you again this time
Unable to resist fate's cruelty.
Bloom for me,
My April Flower,
Though we're not destined to be,
Stay in my heart and take shelter.
In my heart, you will not wilt,
You will eternally bloom..
Even if i am burdened by this guilt,
and love is my certained doom.
Bloom for me for the last time,
At least i can call this moment mine
Ignore my reasons that doesn't rhyme,
Show me your beauty that i can't define.
Bloom..for all eternity..April Flower.
poem by John Paul Ang
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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the Falling Petal
It starts to grow in the morning dew
The beauty it shines through and through
Until one-day it is fully grown
Being grateful its seeds were sown
The flower has blossomed and it stands tall
But sadly it knows it soon will fall
For right now, it is so proud
And in the shade, it does not shrowd
For something that was once a beautiful flower
It now just withers and in a corner it cowers
It used to bloom in the light of day
Hoping its beauty will always stay
But now winter is here and the beauty's no-more
And the future of this flower has nothing in store
When the winter snow begins to settle
Thats when you see the first falling petal
poem by Shirts Williams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Falling Petal
It starts to grow in the morning dew
The beauty it shines through and through
Until one-day it is fully grown
Being grateful its seeds were sown
The flower has blossomed and it stands tall
But sadly it knows it soon will fall
For right now, it is so proud
And in the shade, it does not shrowd
For something that was once a beautiful flower
It now just withers and in a corner it cowers
It used to bloom in the light of day
Hoping its beauty will always stay
But now winter is here and the beauty's no-more
And the future of this flower has nothing in store
When the winter snow begins to settle
Thats when you see the first falling petal
poem by Jane Allan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sun flower
In the bright sunny day
My eye’s make a flower their pray
A flower that has indeed crossed
The boundaries of the lost beauty in flowers
A flower which has a very pleasant
View and answer you’re eyes like
Looking at a creasant in the dark sky
This flowers behavior is utmost
Majestic and generous and it
Has the most delightful look
Like looking at a sunset hill
This flower is known as The sun flower
poem by Afrasiab khan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The flower in the Wild
As i walk past hurriedly
I notice this violet flower staring back at me
It lies quietly yet loudly screaming with beauty
I stop!
Amazed at the sight
As i bend down to pick it out and make it mine
I freeze!
Ashamed at my Selfishness because not everything beautiful has to be mine
let it grow....its fine!
And i walk away yet i wonder
Why i had never noticed this splendor
How i always noticed the overgrown Bush but never the Flower
Oblivious to beauty, my quest for lifes treasures left me blind
....Blind to the flower in the wild
poem by Wanelisa Albert
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Concrete and the Abstract
The concrete is visible,
the abstract is invisible.
The concrete is the outside,
the abstract is the inside.
The concrete is objective,
the abstract is subjective.
People go on searching for
God in the concrete.
'We would like to see God'
-they say.
But only the concrete can be seen;
the abstract has to be felt.
The concrete can be seen-
with the eyes open,
the abstract has to be seen-
with eyes closed.
God is inside you, as you.
You cannot stand outside God
and see Him;
you can see Him
only from the inside-
by being Him.
If you see a flower,
you can look at it scientifically.
You look at the chemistry of it,
You dissect it and
you come to know
about the components of it.
But something is missed
in that very analysis.
The beauty is missed,
because beauty is not a component.
If you ask the scientist -
'Where is the beauty that was in the flower? ’ he will say-
'That was not there,
it was just an illusion.'
'I have dissected it-
all and all,
and these are the things
that I have found.
These chemicals were there,
this matter was there,
these atoms, these molecules....
but there was no beauty.'
But when the scientist
gives the flower to his wife,
he knows deep within his heart
he is not giving her
something chemical,
He is giving to her
the beauty of the flower.
A poet said -
'Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder',
But I say it lies in the heart of the lover.
That beauty is not be seen,
it has to be felt,
not from the outside,
but from the inside
by being the flower itself.
poem by Nazmul Haque
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Children at Play, God is at coherent Display!
Life itself is a journey,
Enjoy it like kid,
Being a child with Children
Being one of them is Spirit
`Beingfulness,
Not look at the road and traffic only like a driver,
Know every inch of the route,
Just as kid enjoying nature around,
No hurry in reaching the destination,
Only enjoy beauty around,
Take sufficient time to learn,
Learning new things,
good and updated,
Learning and enjoying like a kid,
Healing all of Self in Essence,
`Happiness in heart and spreading it around..! ! !
Beauty of nature watched with clear vision and wide eyes,
Beauty of life around,
Appreciating whole heartedly,
Just absorb the beauty into heart,
Let it bloom like beautiful flower!
Find Joy in work,
Perform duties joyfully,
Completion of job will bring blissful satisfaction!
Children are flowers in God's garden,
They at innocent Play look beautiful, and thier smile shine the smile of the God,
their innocence is where one can learn philosophy of life,
Isn't it God
at coherent Display?
Journey in a journey,
Dream in a dream,
Is essence of a dream life,
It is your own, enjoy everything in righteous way,
Using brain and listening to heart,
Balance between,
Emotions and intelligence,
Great will be experience with kids, I one play with them like a kid!
We enjoy company of one another just like children in this journey unknown!
Never bothering about destination!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Flower Vavroovahana Pa
Flower blossoms naturally;
Beautifies nature silently.
Pervades fragrance in air;
Allures bees with pleasure.
Dazzles with sun beam;
Bees collect honey forms flowers’ stream.
Does not hesitate to flow honey;
Has made the Nature flowery.
She smiles in the lap of Nature;
Enchants the minds of poets with pleasure.
Poet’s derive inspiration;
Enjoy the beauty of creation.
A tiny flower is endowed with beauty;
Allures lovers with gaiety.
Beautiful flower tranquilises mind daily;
Deities enjoy the beauty gaily.
poem by Vavroovahana Patra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Gardner of beauty
Your beauty is like that of a Gardner tending to his flowers making life more beautiful with each day you tend to them. I could only wish to be one of your flowers in your garden and hope to feel your gentle hands as you would tend to me. Your beauty is to me as rain is to a flower, giving it nourishment for life. your beauty is my rain and it makes my love grow for you like that of the flower. Your loving soul is that of Gods warmth coming from the sun to a flower. Your love is my sun and feeling it's warmth to the touch it makes my soul grow as the flower would on a summer day. How I ask to be your flower and you be my gardener of life.
7-1-09
poem for my wife
poem by Timothy Honeycutt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Only Flower You Are
A sunbeam caress the only flower from my garden,
What a nice feeling, what a pleasure,
Than to admire the beauty of a flower,
And closing eyes to dream about it.
It's a sweet flower,
Which opened its petals,
To get the joyful morning dew,
And with its fragrance to stun me,
To bring into my heart its magic.
But the most beautiful flower,
That sit next to me,
It's you my love,
You are just a flower bud,
You are all i ever want to hold, ,
You are my dream transposed into reality,
You are my life, my joy.
poem by Cristina Teodor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Perfect Flower
growing out of the ground
digging deep and far
topped with beauty
emmitting the fragrance of love
brittle through the body
strong in the roots
but thats all that matters
for that keeps them going
shining its beauty
letting everyone see it
all the time
spreading its sweet smell
with everyone that comes in contact
making them happy
sorting through the flowers
searching for the only one
that can fill the hole
that he has dug
he sees it in his sight
the sweet aroma
the loving vibe
the joy it gives his heart
the beauty
the perfect flower
gently grasping it
choosing it for his taking
only a few faults show
but the beauty overshadows the faults
in his eyes nothing's better
noone could ever replace her
with this flower his hole is full
it's the perfect fit
giving this flower
radiating with its majestic beauty
to his one true love
the perfect flower to the perfect love
you're all i want
all I've ever dreamed of
and in this perfect flower
our love will live on
poem by Joshua Norton
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Fine Face with Five Flowers: Gita-Govinda
These lips of thine really bear similarity
with the beauty of flower Bandhū ka.
O Self-esteemed Lady!
Thy comely cheeks compile the lustres of Madhū ka.
Manifesting the beauty
of blue lotuses, thy eyes are very lovely.
The stature of Tila flower, thy nose bears.
Thy teeth, O My Dear!
spread the radiance of Kunda flower.
Serving thy fine face with these five flowers,
the Flower-shafted Love-god Cupid
conquers the entire universe indeed.
poem by Harekrishna Meher
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The Voice Of A Flower
The beauty of a flower
as it comes into bloom
is the ultimate reminder
of how we presume
to think we are grander
than that beautiful flower
that's just here to say.
'Look at me and understand
that what you are about
is being a thing of beauty
on the inside and the out.'
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Beautiful Flower
I have a flower, Yes I have picked a beautiful flower,
One with greatest strength like a tree with mightiness and power,
Power of faith beyond any measure,
Yet precious and few like a beautiful treasure.
How precious its love it shares,
How very precious sweet and rare.
Easily lost as colors are tossed on the tides,
For those who tend to set it aside.
Beauty beyond their eye’s is what I have gained as a prize,
And keeping it, is what makes my heart so wise.
It may seem like neglect on their part,
But neglect has not been the wish of their heart.
Why so often many are in a rush,
The beauty of this flower is often a hush.
I praise my flower for its humbleness,
Staying that way always brings forth its beautifulness.
Yes my flower that I have I would gladly share,
To those who appreciate my gift that is rare.
This flower is a gift and I will tell you why,
Because its known for its beauty that will never die.
For if my flower and me ever depart,
The beauty of it will always be found in my heart.
Yes I have a flower, a beautiful flower to name,
It would have to be beautiful,
it would have to meet its beauty inside and out the same.
For that isn’t hard to do, Why you don’t even need a clue,
For I could have never have picked a better you,
My Dear Friend (put name here)….. Its true.
A name, that’s beautiful as you.
poem by Esther Ayala
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Blooming Pleasures
Blooming Pleasures
By Lori Triggs
Copyrighted 2006
My flower was grown with buds
Waiting to bloom by a man.
My flower was deflowered with
Blooms opened fertilized its seed.
My flower was defiled by
My ex love for he forgot to
Love, compassion with attention.
My flower was debloomed and
Felt wilted with no buds.
My flower was grown with
New buds by a new man, who cares,
Gives love, compassion with attention.
My flower was deflowered again
By the new man the first day we met.
My flower sowed its seed
3 times at the Hyatt March 10th,
After being out of the Robert Wood Johnson
Hospital emergency room for Cardiology.
I say my heart works fine,
But I might need a hip or joint replacement.
poem by Lori Triggs
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The Flower’s Name
(after Robert Browing)
I
Through this garden her steps swept
before she opened the gate,
where roses with dew wept
and not a moment longer she could wait,
while there was something gracious in her walk
before she stopped a moment at the letterbox,
in the distance children’s voices she heard talk
while her arm brushed against the snow-white phlox.
II
Her feet carried her in ready steps as she passed by,
saw red carnations in a row
and her eyes sparkled bluer than the sky
while she felt a gentle breeze blow
everywhere flowers and buds did God praise
in their beauty almost casting a spell
while they were blooming for days
with more loveliness and vibrant colours than anyone can tell.
III
She found a flower much more lovely
than any other one she had ever seen
while bees were circling it lively
and to smell it she was keen
but did not know the flower’s name
while it was something precious that she did found,
the flower was blushing as if it were aflame
where it was growing in bloom upon bloom from the ground.
[Reference: “Garden Fancies: I: The flower’s name” by Robert Browing.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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The White China Flower Blooming One Morning
outside the fence of this old house where
some flowers grow in the wild
along the rugger path
i see this little boy cutting the stem
of the white china flower
all in bloom this early morning
and i feel this sense of innocent cruelty
which he did
to destroy nature's beauty
unprotected by the hands of the uneducated
young creatures
i could have told him about the phenomenology
of the real beauty
of things untouched and uncut from their own branches
their blooms facing the sun with all
unhampered freedom
but the little brown boy already run away.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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