The flower's scent-Sonnet
The flower's scent for the moon's highness
Is like red of hero leaving his battle far away!
Forever he lives with his induced blindness
'Cause his courage disappeared in the spring of May!
The honest Helen of Troy in her inner fire bent
Her strange memory there wanting forever to lye!
Don't blush her truth and the flower's scent
Don't ever stir the scent of any opened lie.
The indifference and the hate usually can twist
The power of the Rainbow-Queen with a false tear
The rose of the flower's sense maybe don't exist
Even when looking after them very, very near!
The realistic cruelty of any clever black heart
Is to make the sense of any blame a work of art.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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Related quotes
My Flower
A scent lingering in the
room
has led me to this very bloom.
A scent so fragrant,
A scent so grand,
A scent so strong it could
spread across the land.
A shade of golden-brown
is something that will not make me frown.
A flower so beautiful,
a flower that's for me
makes me bend on this very
knee.
The allure, scent, and attraction
is enough to control my very
action.
Don't worry, she's not only your flower,
she's my flower.
poem by Casey Jarrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Not For Attar
How hard is your heart
To squeeze the Rose
That smiles amidst thorns all around
And call its essence a scent
Wear the flower on your hair
Present the rose to your beloved as Valentine gift
Have mercy on this gentle and sweet flower
Don't smear its blood as scent
And Ladies and Gentlemen, for your kind information
Rose is not made for Attar
Rose is not just a flower
Rose is QUEEN of all flowers
Appreciate her fragrance and elegance
Do not squeeze for essence
And always adore Her Excellence with reverence
poem by Kavin Charalan
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A Fresh Flower Blue
It's a fresh flower blue.
I wrap it in a sheet.
I love its scent, it's hues.
It sips the mist, the dew
and leaves an odor, treat
It's a fresh flower blue.
Its pets, the bees and crew
they meet, they greet, they eat.
I love its scent, its hues.
From dawn to dusk they woo
and bask in rain or heat.
It's a fresh flower blue.
There's a flower for you
There's one for me. A treat!
I love its scent, its hues.
The day I say adieu
I send you one so sweet.
It's a fresh flower blue
I love its scent, its hue.
poem by Agatha Lai
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A flower to kiss
Aflower to kiss,
the flower yet to be flowering
So cute but not yet cluttering
in the bowl, the flower is the sent
The yet beautiful but greatly cute
The flower, flowering a glory
Then, now the smell is the scent
Glory, glory is the name
The rose flower standing amiss
The rose flower that tantalises
In the midst of the green garden
Such a light in the natural eyes
The golden eyes sparkling
In the flower, so flowered
In the flower, yet to kiss
So eyes get the truth
In the flower of the days
Each day, tomorrow and yet to reborn
The world flower, flowered, flowering
And the flower, flowered yet to kiss
poem by Paul Mwenelupembe
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In The Air
Like fresh blossoming flowers on a spring day.
Her scent is in the air.
Like the smell of rain right before it pours down.
Her scent is in the air.
Like the aroma of a hot apple pie cooling on the window seal.
Her scent is in air.
I try to cover my nose with my shirt
but her scent seeps right through it.
It is in the air.
I try fanning it away
but the more I fan the stronger her scent lofts in the air.
I decide not to fight it anymore and I inhale her scent.
It first suffocates me but then it sustains me.
To me her scent is love and it is
In the air.
The ROSE Healing - God's Design
When spring comes to us,
Scent of flowers in the air,
A tiny little rosebud,
A flower of God's design.
Perfect in His possession,
Always in His hand,
God unfolds the petals,
The secret's unknown to me,
The tiny little rosebud,
A flower of God's design,
Unfolds with perfection,
The rose in His hand.
As my life lies before me,
With it's joy and distress,
He is always near me,
Unfolding all life's petals,
The flower of His design,
Forever in His hand.
poem by Eva L. Shaw
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I've picked a special flower
I've picked a special flower
Especially for you
The scent is kinda awesome
So sweet just like you too
I hope u like the flower
The beauty that you see
Cos you are like that flower
You really are to me
poem by Bradley Lester
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My Mysterious Flower
Fragrant -Mauve, Purple - Flower
Violet my best flower
You make me at ease you give me Power
Lavender Flower - Mysterious Flower
what a relaxing scent! There is No More Stress
a field of Lavender thwarts a deep Sadness
You're my balm - you soothe my annoyance
Just one deep breath- I go into a trance
your enigmatic color, make me pensive
meditiative
contemplative,
introspective,
reflective.
I wonder the Lavender scenery
I dive
no north, no south, no east, no west
I am your faithful captive.
poem by Glamorous Enigma
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Song
Oh! To be a flower
Nodding in the sun,
Bending, then upspringing
As the breezes run;
Holding up
A scent-brimmed cup,
Full of summer's fragrance to the summer sun.
Oh! To be a butterfly
Still, upon a flower,
Winking with its painted wings,
Happy in the hour.
Blossoms hold
Mines of gold
Deep within the farthest heart of each chaliced flower.
Oh! To be a cloud
Blowing through the blue,
Shadowing the mountains,
Rushing loudly through
Valleys deep
Where torrents keep
Always their plunging thunder and their misty arch of blue.
Oh! To be a wave
Splintering on the sand,
Drawing back, but leaving
Lingeringly the land.
Rainbow light
Flashes bright
Telling tales of coral caves half hid in yellow sand.
Soon they die, the flowers;
Insects live a day;
Clouds dissolve in showers;
Only waves at play
Last forever.
Shall endeavor
Make a sea of purpose mightier than we dream to-day?
poem by Amy Lowell
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The Old Flower....
there is only one flower that i have
i am hiding it behind my back
and it is not for you
it is for someone else..
i am hiding it behind my back
so you may not see what it is
so you may not quarrel about it
it is for someone else...
i have only one flower in my hand
behind my back
it does not have complete petals
it is wilted and does not have any scent
it is dead
it is a dead flower and it am hiding it behind my back
it is for someone else....
this is an old flower that i have taken
from my antique trunk
tonight i shall burn it
and it shall have the smoke
which shall tell my story
to the cold moon.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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?
My Love
MY LOVE
LOVE! Like a jasmine so fragrant
Invisible and inherent, yet flagrant
Diffusing its scents without asking for it
No need crush the flower to extract
It is yours always, I gave the patent
Whether you take it wholehearted
Or pretend not to admit the fact
Well seized is your tender heart
In the clutches of my endearment
Futile are your feeble efforts
To breakout is not within your might
My love and I like scent and flower
Inseparable forever, that is right! ! !
poem by Sathya Narayana
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Rose For A Rose
A rose for a rose
That is all that I can say,
As I present, the flower to you.
You can look upon its beauty
As I have looked upon yours,
Now you know the turmoil I go through.
As the beauty of the rose,
I thought it second to none,
Until that day that we met.
Now to me the rose is just a flower,
And its aroma is but a scent,
And raindrops, are tears I have wept.
A rose for a rose,
A masterpiece for the painter,
That is what, I am giving you.
You may gaze upon this flower
You can close your eyes and wish
And now the rose is wishing upon you.
Your skin is that of silk
Your beauty is that of mine eyes,
And your soul is that of the free wind.
So now I present you the rose,
As a man presents GOD his soul,
And know you’ll know where I have been.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Flower - Flower Love
flower - flower love
flower - flower love
I come with flower and love
into your life that's full of hope
flower - flower love
I bring you flower and love
as a truth of my heart that never drop
I am a butterfly for you
with blackish orange in colours on me
I will never fly away from you
and never stop watching over you
for
flower - flower love
you are my flower
and you are my love
poem by Juahta Sitepu
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A Flower's Decision
Does a flower breathe
Like you and me?
Breathing in its scent
Exhaling it for free?
Does it smell pollution
And cry inside?
Maybe it wants to close up
And let its beauty hide.
But it blossoms instead
Into the polluted air
And gives off its scent
Just for those who care.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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A Bunch of Roses
Roses ruddy and roses white,
What are the joys that my heart discloses?
Sitting alone in the fading light
Memories come to me here tonight
With the wonderful scent of the big red roses.
Memories come as the daylight fades
Down on the hearth where the firelight dozes;
Flicker and flutter the lights and shades,
And I see the face of a queen of maids
Whose memory comes with the scent of roses.
Visions arise of a scent of mirth,
And a ball-room belle who superbly poses --
A queenly woman of queenly worth,
And I am the happiest man on earth
With a single flower from a bunch of roses.
Only her memory lives tonight --
God in his wisdom her young life closes;
Over her grave may the turf be light,
Cover her coffin with roses white
She was always fond of the big white roses.
*
Such are the visions that fade away --
Man proposes and God disposes;
Look in the glass and I see today
Only an old man, worn and grey,
Bending his head to a bunch of roses.
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
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To A Blue Flower
I would be dismal with all the fine pearls of the crown of a king;
But I can talk plainly to you, you little blue flower of the Spring!
Here in the heart of September the world that I walk in is full
Of the hot happy sound of the shearing, the rude heavy scent of the wool.
Soon would I tire of all riches or honours or power that they fling;
But you are my own, of my own folk, you little blue flower of the Spring!
I was around by the cherries to-day; all the cherries are pale:
The world is a woman in velvet: the air is the colour of ale.
I would be dismal with all the fine pearls of the crown of a king;
But I can give love-talk to you, you little blue flower of the Spring!
poem by John Shaw Neilson
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The Perfume Of Early Spring
The wonders of this new year,
I'm just now beginning to sense.
The chilly halcyon days now gone
Took away the weeks of suspense.
The early morning dew fallen fresh
Begets the scent of wet vernal leaves.
In flower beds new blossoms form,
With nectar nose bearly now perceives.
Park timber emits a lingering fragrance
Of scented pines and evergreen,
With other trees yet missing foliage
Giving a woodsy scent for nose to glean.
The grasses damp with spring rain
Emit their pleasing smell for miles.
Blending the air with kindred aromas,
The gift of spring in its vernal styles.
poem by Albert Price
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Love is Stupid and so am I/ The bad 6th grade sonnet
(WARNING WRITTEN BY a 6th GRADE CLASS)
Help me with my difficult homework please
Being without your love really does stink
Every day without you causes heart freeze
When I stand next to you my face turns pink
When I see you I am a sitting Duck
For you I would shave my head like a monk
Being around you I have better luck
I am able to sense your love for funk
I see you play like a gentle flower
I cannot be without you forever
I like your soft scent do not shower
We really should always be together
Being without you I can’t feel love
To me you are an angel from above
(Sonnet)
poem by Malia Ramos
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Once For All
I said: This is a beautiful fresh rose.
I said: I will delight me with its scent,
Will watch its lovely curve of languishment,
Will watch its leaves unclose, its heart unclose.
I said: Old earth has put away her snows,
All living things make merry to their bent,
A flower is come for every flower that went.
In autumn, the sun glows, the south wind blows,
So walking in a garden of delight
I came upon one sheltered shadowed nook
Where broad leaf-shadows veiled the day with night
And there lay snow unmelted by the sun: -
I answered: Take who will the path I took,
Winter nips once for all; love is but one.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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