Nature's Gift
Being the only flower bearing yellow petals
Growing tall in the center of nature’s garden
Reflecting the sunlight and dancing in
The gentle early springtime breeze-
My stem would bend perhaps and
Perhaps touch the thorns of pink and red roses-
Though only for the moment-
Roses being the most popular blossoms,
People would come and cut them down,
Place them in a vase where they would
Fragrantly and aesthetically decorate their home-
For just a few days before they wither and die-
Being a wildflower, no one cares to cut me down-
Today all of the other flowers have seemingly disappeared,
Either removed by residents of nearby homes or
Their petals blown away by an occasional gust of wind-
I remain alone amongst grasses and forever growing weeds.
Being the only flower amongst grasses, weeds, shrubs and trees,
I am content to be present – enchanted when the rain falls and
Having the space for my petals to spread and open-
So different from the roses, though beautiful to see-
Shall be robbed of their glory, cut and a few days later
They shall perish and be thrown away.
Being beautiful and loved by people has always been
Nearly everybody’s greatest dream, but for me-
Perhaps not as fragrant and lovely to look at-
Being none but an ordinary wild flower, though
I am delighted to be part of nature’s bounty- and
I believe that a longer life,
Being here to experience continued growth, and
Basking in the sunlight day by day and then
Sometimes feeling refreshed by the moisture of the rain-
Is more meaningful and is more rewarding than
Beauty, popularity and fragrance that often
Terminates even before we see the season end..
poem by Claudia Krizay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rose
My mother planted roses and seemingly,
They never blossomed.
And twenty years after her death
Amidst grasses, weeds and wildflowers
Grew a white rose,
I am a white rose alone that
My mother never saw or would see-although perhaps
If she went to heaven she
Could possibly look down and
See a white flower blossoming but
Likely, she would not know it was a rose in bloom.
I am that rose that blossomed after
All of the other roses died-
An unexpected ice storm had killed them.
Weeds and wildflowers, were strong enough toSurvive the cold.
Roses are beautiful but delicate-Withering beneath inches of snow.
Amongst every group of living beings
Possibly killed by inclement weather or
Being treated badly and not properly raised or cared for-
Dying with no one trying to save their lives, remains a survivor.
I have been called the white rose, the survivor
Amongst the roses my mother planted,
That had sadly perished-
Today somebody picked me and placed me in a vase upon a table inside their home.
In a few days, my petals shall fall and
I shall be dead, gone, and disposed of.
I am or was a survivor but now I shall perish just as
The other roses in the garden outside-
This only goes to show that nothing lasts forever because of
The spitefulness of others in this cruel world where
Even the strongest and bravest living beings shall
Have their lives snatched away by some malicious other-
Jealousy, thoughtlessness or simply ignorance rules, so that
No matter how strong- nothing or nobody can live forever-
Everybody’s time comes to be amongst the ill- fated departed-
Gone and forever forgotten as a dying rose, its petals wilted and
Scattered in the wind-
Claudia Krizay
poem by Claudia Krizay
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I Wish I Were a Flower
Oh I wish I were a flower
A most beautiful flower
This is my dream
With the gentle breeze
In the springtime I will
Hop out of my earthen bed
Listen to the sweet
Chirping of the blue jays
Singing me love songs
Standing tall waiting
For kisses from Heaven
To rain down on me
When you come by
I will smile
Knowing someday-
I will brighten your home
With the sun
Stored in my petals
Later with the warmth
Of the golden sunshine
I will open my petals wide
Waiting for my love-
The honey bee
To come and savour me
For how much blessed
Could I ever be than
To be a beautiful flower
A most beautiful flower
For your enjoyment
For your pleasure
poem by Rachel Nichols
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Anguish Thoughts
I saw a flower
Not so fresh, enchanting
It has no sweet smell as roses have.
But it has the thorns of roses.
If I touch a flower
I can tell its soft or rough
But all flowers are soft
Soft petals with sweet fragrance
Make a flower beloved.
But I can’t touch this flower
For it is dangerous.
But worms found its bed
And going to destroy my little flower.
Can this secret love
Destroy her crimson petals?
poem by Abdul Hakeem Parannur
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Pink Flowers.
Do not text me or think otherwise
I am just picking flowers from my garden.
Last evening I picked a red rose but
Wow! It proved to be too red for my date
Today I visited the same garden
The only flower I found was a white rose.
Where is my favourite pink rose?
This morning I cycled to the market
Sure, to buy my date a pink rose
But the only roses there were yellow and purple.
Tried to enquire where I could get one
But no one knows where to find.
Went to my flower vendor but nowhere to find
Where will I get my pink rose for my date?
Tomorrow, I'll travel far and wide
Only to get this precious pink flower
And if I succeed, my date will be happy
And my heart will find a solace rest
Amidst the residue of love petals
Just with the pink flower petals.
Where will I get my Pink rose flower?
(Dedicated for my pink flower date)
poem by Aron Lelei
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This Flower
This Flower
This flower with petals so soft to touch
Cradles nature's portal
Where waves rise
and sweet ambrosia falls
This flower with petals so delicate and refined
Lay at the entryway of an open vessel
Waiting with a velvet whisper
to be filled with the seeds of nature's life
This flower with petals so tame and silent
Begs the onlooker to experience it's hiddenness
And after one look, one taste
She has caught her prize
1 April 2008
Reminiscence
A rose reminiscent of my father's garden
I found growing by a pathway outside my home- as well as
Another just lying upon the sidewalk-
I collected them and brought them home and
Placed them in a vase my mother always loved.
My mother and father always loved the springtime and
On this rainy Saturday afternoon,
I find it hard to believe they have been gone for twenty years.
My mother's spirit was as delicate as the petals on these roses-
My father's, as strong as their thorny stems that upheld them and
My own spirit, by them, always misunderstood.
Flowers are blossoming everywhere-
Daffodils and wild violets growing every place I look and
Cherry blossoms and dogwood seemly decorating the trees-
Bring back the fonder memories of my mother and my father-while
The rain and the sky so gray and overcast
Bring back memories of the sadness of being misunderstood.
It has been nearly forty years that
I had made my own special world in which to live and
In this world flowers grew not only just in the springtime months-
But all year around and in every place.
The real world was then, to me, a place I never lived in or comprehended, and
As long as I kept my mind alive inside the world of my imagination-
At that time, I believed that I had not a thing to fear.
Roses reminiscent of my father's garden,
Placed in the vase my mother so loved-
Upon this rainy Saturday day in March, evokes a few tears in my eyes and
Just for the moment I think of the laughter and good times we had together-
These thoughts are interrupted by memories of all of the anger, sadness,
Mistrust and disbelief that now overshadow memories of
These few pleasurable moments we not so often shared, and
I take these roses from the vase that sits alone upon the table,
Open my picture window and throw them to the rain, and
As my tears cease to fall and dry away- I say goodbye to all unhappy memories-and
As thoughts of my self-made world disappear,
I am thankful that I have a life in this world here alive, and while
I watch the rose petals flutter about in a gentle spring like breeze-
I leave thoughts of discontented past times behind me and
I realize that I have just been set free.
poem by Claudia Krizay
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10 Days
Having been born in my own yard
I never knew a reason to leave.
But when a flower from the other side of the fence called my name
it brought me to consider.
But the prospect seemed ludicrous-
I shall stay on my side of the fence.
Upon closer look the beautiful flower again called my name
I saw the petals were smooth and green.
So I jumped the fence, and tried to place myself in the ground next to the flower
laboriously digging all around it, trying to become one with it.
The following 3 days, while I dug, the beautiful flower withered in the hot wind and on the fourth crumbled beside me.
Feeling compelled to myself wither and crumble with guilt
on the other side of the garden another flower called
feeling hopeless and tormented I followed the voice for four more days until I came upon the flower
standing alone on parched soil, famished and dying.
Suffocating in my own misery
for 2 days I attempted to penetrate through the dry, cracked ground to bind myself to this lone, beautiful flower I found among weeds and sticks
and eventually dug this flower up as well, which too died
I thought about where to go from here
but so weakened I myself began to wither and crack.
10 days after leaving my yard
my skin flaked off
my teeth fell out
my bones became ashes.
poem by Louie Vizcarra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It is Spring Time
It is Spring Time
It is spring time.
I can smell it in the air.
I can smell the flowers.
I can smell the grass.
I can touch the grass.
I can touch and taste the vegetable growing in the garden.
The weather is changing.
The weather is warming up.
The trees are blossoming.
The flowers are blossoming.
It is spring time.
Easter has passed.
Beltane has passed.
Spring and May is here.
This is the time to tend to your garden and planted some flowers.
Some people pray to God to protect their garden.
Some people pray to Mother Nature for protect.
I do both and I thank God for this planet.
It is Spring Time.
The animals and bugs come out to play.
The frogs jump around the pond.
The wildflower comes out.
The sky is clean and blue.
The sun is shining.
The horses are running free.
The sunflowers are growing.
When seasons the earth also changes it is a beautiful way.
Nature is every where.
It is spring time.
There is rain and storm.
The trees have leaves and it arms.
The trees are ancient.
An apple falls down from the trees.
This is what thinks spring time is for me.
Spring time is beautiful.
Spring time is when nature is beautiful.
It is spring time.
Spring time is here.
The rabbits come out, and hop round.
The bees are collection honey for us.
The tulips are blossoming.
The roses are blossoming, and looking so beautiful.
The lavender is purple and bright.
Spring time is a time to celebrate.
Spring time is a time to clean our environment.
It is spring time.
Spring time is a time when rain falls.
Spring time is the time when the seasons changes.
Spring time is when the plants grow.
Spring time is my favorite season.
Spring time is the time to be happy.
It is spring time.
poem by Crystal Chown
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Nature's Rose
As the vast nature
blinds the eye by its beauty
the trees grow taller
the grasses grow greener
The animals grow more peaceful in their natural habitat
But none grow as beautiful as the red rose
As the red rose grows day by day
I walk by it desiring to pick it
Sitting and waiting for the petals to grow more mature
To grow and show off the beauty of the rose
Years go by and the rose is almost grown
This special rose is different from the rest.
Others grow, beautify, and die
While this one grows year after year
The blood of the rose is pure
as it flows up and through the beautiful flower
But the rose has not completed its growth
I run my hand down the body of the beautiful flower
Shedding my blood from the sharp thorns
I grasp the flower and thrust it from the ground
As my blood drips, the blood of the flowers does so too
The red of both mix and mature and fall to the ground dropp after drop
The smell of the flower overtakes the pain
This is Nature's Rose
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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Wildflower
Amongst grass and tall weeds-
You show your face alone-
Petals violet as the eyes of a goddess-
Dancing in gentle motion in
The quiet breeze of late summer-
You could have been human but
You are far too exquisite – as
Lovely as a shining star, although less elusive-
Bowing shyly to the passers by,
You grow in solitude.
Uniquely bashful as my own persona
Fearful of the world surrounding-
Isolated form other flora- you stand with apparent pride.
I have often wondered if
You are as heartrendingly frightened and as
Lonely as I had been many seemingly eons ago-
Casting your shadows upon the earth…
As far as I can envision
Are flowers and more flowers and so many trees-
Evergreens, maple trees venturing with branches
Outstretched towards the heavens
In all of their glory attempting with utmost delight to
Touch the sun, or
Hiding from the world in abject sorrow,
As the branches of a weeping willow tree might do-
I could shed my own tears in desperation,
If I had petals they would wither and fall to the ground,
Leaving none but a stem to perish as the cool autumn air may
Wrathfully demolish me as
My own delusions have nearly destroyed the essence of my being-
I am none but a barren stem myself, once as young and striking as you can be.
In this subtle moment-
I can feel the pain of my anguish as I glance up towards the sky as
You lift your fine, but deceptive countenance upward as
Night sets in and when that full moon rises and
Stars commence to scintillate,
You shall become as invisible to this world as I have become-
Apathetic people shall walk and pass you by,
As they have often done to myself when I was crying out for help and was suffering-
Now I am so like you because I am void of all emotion-
None but a wild flower I am myself-
Pleasing to the open eyes of humans but so angry at those who follow me as
I walk this path alone-
Someday I will die and it will be as if I had never been-
I may see you when you also leave this planet-
Hopefully chanting melodies of joy and relief to be void of all contact
With other living beings and
Fighting not to burn in the hell beneath us-
Raging a continuous battle is what life is really all about-
I can see a uniquely brave and charming air about you-
Keep on growing as long as you are able-
You are far too lovely to be an entity of this putrid and untrustworthy culture-
If you have any heart-
Fall in love with yourself as I have done-
I tell you in all honesty it is the only way to survive in these lurid and
Disdainful surroundings-
Let your petals flutter in the wind and
Never feel shame-
Never weep-
Laugh and sing in the balmy late summer air.
Someday may we meet in another world
Fabricated for the two of us alone-
Both our hearts shall beat with utmost happiness, and relief to be
Living in isolation,
For to love and fend for ourselves is
The only way to carry on-
When night sets in and stars scintillate-
Let your stamen glow in the glory of the moon- if at all possible-
My delicate and most precious wildflower-
So much like myself-
In unity with nature as we both can be- and
As heart wrenching as living in this place may be-
Keep growing until you touch the sun-
May we never fade away-
As our destiny is far too mysterious…
Claudia Krizay
poem by Claudia Krizay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rose Petals
Rose petals are so soft to touch,
rose petalsfragrance is so divine to smell,
rose petals are like lovely lips which smile,
rose petals are given to lady love,
rose petals are spread on bed of newly bride,
rose petals are life of butterflies,
rose petals are used for beauty baths,
rpse petals are offered on the lotus feet of god,
rose petals are placed on grave of dear ones,
rose petals are offered in river ganga for departed soul,
rose petals are showered on newly weds,
rose petals are decorated on festive days,
roses are given as a promise for everlasting love.
poem by renu Vig sharma sharma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sunshine Hue
Sunshine hue, sunshine grew
Shines its rays on me and you
Sunshine light sunshine bright
Not a dark cloud close in sight
Sunshine thrive sunshine grow
Sweet healing rays on all your tribe
Sunshine healing, sunshine show
The pure essence of our being
Sunshine parade, sunshine displayed
In its fractionised barricade
Sunshine tranced, sunshine danced
Gave our souls such sweet romance
Sunshine dove, sunshine above
Thanks for your sweet rays of love
So sun kissed and pure sun bliss
Sunshine blocks out all the mist
So sunshine mellow sunshine yellow
You’ve made me a lucky fellow
There is a garden where very few
can roam, not very far from home
Come closer, I am alone, just now
Go past cobwebs glistening like silver
Come closer, you're the rose
I want the most to go through
My garden of ice and snow
Blooming with rich fragrant roses
Velvety black, blue and red
Each with perfume of love
As I sleep below the roses
Loneliness has reached my skin
I need the love that ebbs and flows
Just a sip from your succulent nectar
Shall free me from this small pain
Dig deep beneath the thorny layers
And free me from your heart
That we can share the midnight hours
and know how I hunger and thirst
Just a shield me, protect me
And this shall will give me power
To become a loved once again
Without it I will fade away
I'd rather have roses on my table
Than diamonds on my neck
Where flowers bloom so does hope
Each flower is a soul opening out to nature
Perfumes are the feelings of flowers
The world is one giant rose
Smell it and pass it onto your friends
When bright flowers bloom
Parchment crumbles, my words fade
The pen has dropped...
Flowers are love's truest language
I will touch a hundred flowers
And never pick one, none
They are not long, the days of wine and roses
Out of a misty dream our path emerges
For a while, then closes within a dream
There came a time when the risk
To remain tight in the bud
Was more painful than the risk it took
Blossoming flowers are the sweetest things
Ever made and forgot to put a soul into
It is at the edge of a petal that love waits
Pure as any one of you
Who can estimate the elevating and refining
Influences and moral value of flowers
With all their graceful forms
Bewitching shades and combinations
Colours and exquisitely varied perfumes
These silent influences are unconsciously felt
Even by those who do not appreciate them
And thus with better and still better flowers
Will the earth be transformed, man's thought
Refined, and turned from the base destructive
Forces into nobler, more simpler production
One which will lift us to high planes of action
Toward the happy day when the angels
Of all this beautiful work is more acknowledged
Loved with many richer grains
Better fruit and fairer flowers from this earth
For myself I hold no preferences among flowers
So long as they are wild, free, spontaneous.
Observe this dew drenched rose garden
A rose today, tomorrow and yesterday
It was the dust, the sunshine, and the rains
Which I first saw, or desired to see, the flower
In the cherry blossom's shade
There's no such thing as a stranger
The thoughts grow as freely as the flowers
The dreams are as beautiful in friendship
Fragrant garden, there are flowers of every hue
Each with its own fair beauty and its gift of joy
None can have a healthy love for flowers
Unless he loves the wild ones freely
White blossoms slowly float down
Dancers in the wind as everything has been
But the spring breeze
A flowerless room is a soulless room
To my way of thinking
But even on solitary little vase
Home of a living flower may redeem it
Thought of before, in the hope
Reaching the moon, men fail to see
The flowers that blossom at their feet
Who would have thought it possible
That a tiny little flower could preoccupy
A persons mind completely
There simply wasn't room for any other thought
Let me show you the sweet smell
A delicate whisper behind the vision
Gardens are drunk from roses
And it is my faith, that every flower
Enjoys the air it breathes
Flowers leave their fragrance
In the hand that bestows them
We gathered the wild flowers
There seemed one pure delight
Through the field we roamed
There seemed one pure delight
Silently a flower blooms
In silence it falls away
Yet here now, at this moment, at this place
The world of the flower
The whole of you is blooming
This is the talk of the flower
The truth of the blossom
The glory of eternal life
Is fully shining here
But the spring breeze
A flowerless room is a soulless room, to my way of thinking;
but even on solitary little vase of a living flower may redeem it.
There grows the flower of Peace
The Rose that cannot wither
Do not the petals flutter down
Just like this?
Footfalls echo in the memory
Down the passage which we did not take, towards the door we never opened and into the rose garden with all the flowers of all the tomorrows are in the seeds of today, every flower about a house certifies to the refinement of somebody, every vine climbing and blossoming tells of love and joy and stories yet to come…
poem by Char Pattrick
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Story of My Flower
Born a lovely flower
Watered with fresh water during rainy seasons
Sprinkled with just enough during the droughts
The flower lived to blossom
With scented petals and green leaves
in a pot so large to take all it could bear.
One sunny day
the pot with the flower was shifted
shifted to a completely new location
where it was deprived of the sunlight
and the abundance of water.
Necessary it was
A new start in a life supposedly so complete.
Time went by
Nevertheless, the flower continued blooming
The petals now larger
The scent even more appealing
The flower survived even without the bare necessities.
The now sensitive flower
Soon attracted the eyes of predators
A simple glance to start with
Then became a soft touch
Followed by multiples of rough care.
Soon the flower started to lose its shape and form
Being given insufficient supply of water
Inappropriate fertilizers
And most of all the wrong attention.
At last it withered
After long hours of torture
Long days of loneliness
and years of abundance
it turned yellow, then brown
Finally, what remained was just a lifeless stem
standing in an old dirty pot.
poem by Alexandra Isnard
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The Life History of The Little Flower
The delicate petals fanned the tiny flower,
Waking fragrantly after the nudging shower,
Shyly it peeped around the beautiful bower,
Not realising its immense power of attraction.
Its quaint face and vibrant eyes,
Made onlookers feel grateful and wise.
Emotions, spirits and thoughts nobly rise,
In appreciation of the aesthetics of nature.
It looked at the sun and the shadowy moon,
Not knowing it would miss them soon.
Life is so brief. It was getting to be noon.
But that did not dismay the flower at all.
A bee saw it from the corner of its eye,
Skilfully it zoomed down closer to pry,
Lighting on the flower with spirits high,
It soon zoomed away with its fill of nectar.
A butterfly as dainty as the flower,
Lighted on the masterpiece in the bower,
Soon it flitted away there being no bar,
To enjoy the pollen it carried with it.
The sun went down and a mild breeze blew,
A gust attracted by the flower covered with dew,
Wanted to be friends with such beauty true,
So it approached it with furious excitement.
Reaching the flower it stopped in awe,
Never having seen such excellence before
Impetuously let out a loud, exultant roar,
Encircling the flower to strengthen their bond.
The pearly flower did not know where to look,
The rush of wind its petals vigorously shook,
The blast was playing the game to the book.
Soon the fragile flower lay completely bare.
As the petals floated away in all directions,
The naughty gust being ashamed of its actions,
Quickly rushed off. That was its heartless reaction,
To the demise of the ornament of the bower.
The Last Rose Of The Fall
Her pink petals strewn upon the grass beside her mother tree
In full bloom a thing of Nature so beautiful to see
Where the gleaners of Nature's decay grubs, slugs and insects crawl
Last week she looked so beautiful the last rose of the Fall.
So bare and thorny looking without her leaves and flowers
The rose tree looks forlorn in the cool Autumn showers
Next Summer again pink roses she will wear
The rose tree in bloom has a beauty that's rare.
The beauty of Nature is seen Worldwide
In town parks and gardens and in the countryside
And Nature herself she lives on every shore
The one destined to live forever more.
For the gleaners of Nature who live on decay
The beautiful rose petals on the grass lay
But the rose whose life span can be measured in hours
Her fate it is not any different to ours.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Honey Bees
Sweet when the flowers are blooming
Beautifully and fast they fly
The beauty comes to share
The dance of petals
The songs of beautiful bells
The scent of romantic roses
All the honey bees fly to dance
Singing the beautiful rhymes
Sparkling like the golden light
The sky smiles to see
But when the cloud comes
No more dance of petals
The bells stop to sing
The scent of roses disappeared
They fly to go with stings
No more cheerful dance
Poisons come to spread
Leaving the Fall to end
poem by Vidi Pudinkz
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A Flower in the Rain
My dear, you are so sweet,
For you grow in a field,
Like a flower with
Beautiful petals,
And a rose that has
Many red spirals
And petals that
Make you all the more unique.
But, my dear, I know
Not whether I will always
See you, for many men
Try to chase you,
And you feel so cold,
As if you were a flower in the rain,
And that the meadow was not large
Enough for you to keep you
Warm and safe.
But, I promise,
That I will be there for you,
No matter the circumstances,
For you are my flower,
And you are my flower in the rain,
For you will grow with every drink you take.
poem by James Roberts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Black Roses
In the garden of wild plants
I search for a Rose or a Lily.
The laugh of the plants get subdued
Then I look for a Jasmine or a Hibiscus.
Then I hear the sob of a flower a little away
With black petals all within her.
'Who are you all? ', I queried.
'You call us black roses', they said.
Unplucked, untouched and unfelt they remain
The black roses of a wild region!
'May I pluck one of you? ' I asked.
'You are welcome to liberate us all' they said.
Liberation! I am a bit confused,
Liberation of a flower is a novel idea
And I return with a few black roses
For I cant liberate them by plucking at a go.
The Rose fades, the Lily shrinks,
The Jasmine dries up and the Hibiscus falls.
But my mind says to me now for certain,
'These Black Roses will bloom in your gardens once'.
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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