The Garden
A plant has bloomed into a flower very well,
Seeds were sown yesterday, only the bluebell.
Using sunlight and hero-worship is best,
Regretting any extolling that was abreast.
The garden is a city for the diffidence
Expressed by this appearance.
We are a number of angiosperms
In full religion, just as a prophet confirms.
His hood is like the floret or small flower,
His job is to garden the city and keep the cauliflower.
He also has bashfulness, sheepish though he remains
From the ever-growing symbols, the ever-changing gains.
We must pay our tribute to the king of gardening,
A man who is a great gardener, and he is beckoning.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Green Fingers
People have gardens, both large and small,
Whilst flat dwellers have no garden at all.
Some people love to surround their homes
With comical-looking, little garden gnomes.
A few gardens boast fantastic water-features,
Or a large array of stone, woodland creatures.
To make their garden nice, some folk really do try,
Whilst other gardens really are a sight for sore eyes.
Some folk really wish their garden was just not there,
And, about them, they, very obviously, just do not care.
Without a garden, some people would feel really lost,
And they keep them looking nice, whatever the cost.
Some people are blessed: they have green fingers,
And, in their gardens, for hours, they love to linger.
When some people pull on their gardening gloves,
They tend their gardens with such heartfelt love.
People love to spend their time sowing seeds,
Trimming their hedges, and pulling up weeds.
Some tend flower beds, upon bended knee.
Some grow delicious fruit upon their trees.
The gardener's nightmare is the garden pest:
To eradicate them all, they do their best.
Some people love to escape to their sheds,
Where they can think, and clear their heads.
In their gardens, people love to spend time,
But they like it best, when the weather is fine.
When all of their gardening chores are done,
Some people love to sit and relax in the sun.
Time spent in the garden, always really flies;
The benefits of gardening cannot be denied.
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Weed
There was an old woman
that planted a garden.
And in the garden
there grew a weed.
The weed grew next to
a beautiful flower.
The flower had grown
from a tiny seed.
The weed was strong
and would not bend.
The wind did blow
and it did send
the seeds from the flower
into the air.
They circled around
and landed where
the weed was growing
next to the flower.
Soon the weed was
surrounded by flowers.
It loved where it was
and looked by the hours
at all of the beautiful
colorful flowers.
The old woman who planted
the garden one day
decided that she would
make a bouquet.
She went to the garden
to cut the flowers.
But when she got there
down came the showers.
The raindrops that fell
made the weed shine
which made the old woman
change her mind.
She left them alone
in her garden and knew
that the weed belonged
with the flowers that grew.
She'd planted the flowers.
God planted the weed.
The garden was perfect.
No bouquet did she need.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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The City Mouse And The Garden Mouse
The city mouse lives in a house; -
The garden mouse lives in a bower,
He's friendly with the frogs and toads,
And sees the pretty plants in flower.
The city mouse eats bread and cheese; -
The garden mouse eats what he can;
We will not grudge him seeds and stalks,
Poor little timid furry man.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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When I look at the world around me
Pink, red and purple geraniums
that flower in the garden,
cannot grow without sunlight
and water.
Still, every different flower
has an own colour, a different odour
and the texture of flower cups
and the time that buds last
are different.
When I look at the world around me,
I know how a part
of You’re great omnipotence looks
and I see flowers dazzling everywhere,
to pay homage to You
from who
every thing comes
and every plant and flower
leaves me dumbstruck with beauty.
In all things, Your love is unlimited
and the greatness of Your works
tells me that I‘m also part
of Your making
and that all things fit somewhere
in Your universe.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Planted A Flower
I planted me a flower
Though my friends say a weed
In my garden from a forgotten seed.
So I planted it deep
And around it I hoed
So someday my flower would grow.
But my flower never came
From the sunshine or the rain
That GOD placed above its head.
And so my friends would just laugh
Every time that they would pass
My garden, my plant and I.
Gardeners were them all
As though they have been called
To bring beauty upon our sight.
And a gardener wasn't I
Just a poet in disguise
And for that reason I sat and cried.
More care to my plant I gave
And more affection to it I showed.
While praying one day my flower would grow.
And my friends would just laugh at me
When they saw me on my knees
And to my flower when they heard me speak.
To ignorance they did blame
Its a weed they would exclaim
Then they would walk away.
For a madman I must be
Trying to create a flower out of a weed
Then I would bow my head to weep.
And every night that I went to bed
I dreamt of a rainbow in my head
Which was my flower I planted with my own hands.
And every morning when I awoke
I ran to my garden, but I was torn
For my flower was still unborn.
And I could hear my friends laugh at me
Hidden behind an old oak tree
And I could see them shake their heads and walk away.
But then came one magic morning
When in my head my dreams were forming
While in my garden, my dream, had awoke.
I awoke, to gasps and jeers
I arose, to shouts and cheers
Then in my garden, I walked in bitterness and fear.
Then I saw a rainbow with a halo
I saw my friends with a child's glow
And then I heard the wind, as she softly spoke to me.
You had faith in a weed,
A weed, had faith in you.
And nature, had faith in you two.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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In The Flower Garden
In the flower garden
The flowers are pink and white
The sky is blue
And it drags along the clouds of white
Friends of mine are waiting for me
Friends of mine are waiting to give me information
and advice
After receiving careful words from my friends
I continue on my way through the flower garden
In the flower garden
I spy my animal friends
A lizard and a bee
Both willing to help me
Either by running along the ground
Flying in the air
Or climbing a tree
Both are willing to help me get to safety
Both are willing to help me to survive
With all the obstacles, snakes, and evil seeds
around
After besting all the enemies
My animal friends and I reach the end of the
flower garden
They've done their job
And for that I'm grateful
I wish my animal friends well
Offering them a warm goodbye
As they make their way back to the flower garden
And leave me to continue on my adventure
poem by Justin Gildow
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Flower to Flower
I came across one flower
While walking in a garden
It saw me and gave a smile
I too smiled and walked
Each day in garden I smiled
One day I gazed at flower
At its plant and roots closely
I observed its dance in wind
And its dance made me sing
It made me smile all my time
Everyday I went to flower
Smiled with it and came back
My days went like seconds
Nights passed like years
Flower made me its lover
So I wrote songs on its dance
On its lovely beautiful smile
All about its charming beauty
And my state of dying slowly
In which I am smiling daily
One day I saw flower singing
In the garden while jogging
Song reveled its moving off
From my garden to a house
Of loved one from its past
I smiled on all my songs
While writing a new song
Its song of flower to flower
Which I gave to my flower
When departing from my lover
poem by Kranthi Pothineni
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The Dead Flower Bed
The Dead Flower Bed
The Dead Flower Bed
A Flower Loves
Eye saw the flower bed as eye walked bye it looked so empty after storm has come, on close inspection there was three plants still thriving there in hopefullness and love, whiteflower looking all better, one purple flower plant blossoming, and a forelorn dandylion
without seeds but steadfast in his love in the center of the flower bed between the daughter and his love, after bad weather gone.
Love remains the flowers fade but love still stays even inside the dead flower bed. A flower loves.
poem by Charles Hice
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Once There Was A Flower
i like this to be as simple
as this:
once there was a
flower
a very white flower
blooming
in my garden
and once there was a bee
a very busy bee
getting nectars
from the flowers in my
garden
except from that very white
flower
in my garden
the bee died
the flower died too
and they never really lived
happily everafter.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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In the spring garden
In the spring garden
~
In the spring garden
Birds sing and chatter
While flowers raise their heads
To greet the morning sun
A garden filled with colour bright
A garden which now fills with life
The bee and the butterfly hover
From flower to flower gathering nectar
Seeding the flowers blossom
Throughout the spring garden
The dew glistens upon the grass
While the wind gently rolls in the tree
All the world slowly waking
Soon to this bounty of great beauty
Every hue from natures pallet
Is here free for all to see
In the spring garden
poem by Matthew Holloway
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A Flower Grows In My Garden
A flower blossomed in my garden
Shines its light all through the day
Array of colours reflect the sunlight
That radiates from its heart of gold
Emiting loving vibrations
It multiplied in the years ahead
Over the country it did spread
Sowing its seed along the way
Joy and tenderness it brought forth
Each and every day
The fragrance of the flower
Is pleasing to the gods
The aroma fills the air
People come to see
The beautiIful flower that grows there
The flower is my daughter
I thank God from up above
For sending me such treasure
In my garden of love
written by
Verna Goulding Ralph
poem by Verna Ralph
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Mother Teresa
A flower from Albania,
Had made its home in India,
And blossomed into beauteous form,
Despite the world’s, many a storm.
It grew in wisdom, divinity,
Perfuming Kolkata city;
And served the poor, both young and old,
Mitigating sufferings untold.
She went into the town’s small streets,
And covered invalids with sheets;
She brought back smiles to faces sad,
And made the orphaned hearts so glad.
A single soul, rescued more souls,
By playing caring, saving roles;
She lit the dark alleys of town,
And grew the seeds of love thus sown.
The flower left its many seeds,
To grow up tall, amidst some weeds;
Each plant stays blessed by Almighty,
-A boon for poor in a city.
HER LIFE WAS JUST EXEMPLARY,
BOUND TO THE HOLY ROSARY;
SHE SACRIFICED HER LIFE FOR CHRIST;
SHE FOUND TRUE JOY IN MAKER FIRST.
Dedicated fondly to the Saint
On her 100th Birth Anniversary
Copyright by Dr John Celes 26-08-2010
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Saint Mother Teresa
A flower from Albania,
Had made its home in India,
And blossomed into beauteous form,
Despite the world’s, many a storm.
It grew in wisdom, divinity,
Perfuming Kolkata city;
And served the poor, both young and old,
Mitigating sufferings untold.
She went into the town’s small streets,
And covered invalids with sheets;
She brought back smiles to faces sad,
And made the orphaned hearts so glad.
A single soul, rescued more souls,
By playing caring, saving roles;
She lit the dark alleys of town,
And grew the seeds of love thus sown.
The flower left its many seeds,
To grow up tall, amidst some weeds;
Each plant stays blessed by Almighty,
-A boon for poor in a city.
HER LIFE WAS JUST EXEMPLARY,
BOUND TO THE HOLY ROSARY;
SHE SACRIFICED HER LIFE FOR CHRIST;
SHE FOUND TRUE JOY IN MAKER FIRST.
Dedicated fondly to the Saint
On her 100th Birth Anniversary
Copyright by Dr John Celes 26-08-2010
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Flowers
She is like a flower.
I like every type of flower that populates on this earth.
But one is beautiful like yellow acacias that grows from a seed into birth.
I want to plant seeds to make a garden of a family with her.
She is a flower that is sweet as honeysuckle
We are on top of a moonflower like beatiful lovers.
She lights up my day like a sunflower.
She is nothing like spring beauty and lives life by every hour.
Her love is good like red roses she never wanted me for the money.
Her beauty is like pink lotuses because she is the bomb.
And the hatred by other girls is who she exposes.
She blooms up into my life and I wouldn't mind making her my wife.
Im like a bumble bee all I need is her love like honey.
Like Winnie pooh a honey addict and yes I'm addicted to her love.
I'm her sunlight I keep her shining bright.
She is every flower
I love day and night.
poem by Anteaus Berryhill
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Wish I were a flower
Wonderful flower in the garden
A facet of nature's creative art
Soft lovely petals
Eye-catching colours
Heart rendering fragrance
Happily sways the flower on the plant
Though its life is only for a day
Least does it care for appreciation
Not a soul may notice it - Yet
it happily dances on the plant;
Wish I could be that flower.
poem by Brindha Saran
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Come Back As A Flower
The starngest thought came to me on this morning
As I awake to greet the coming dawn
The sun was hardly peaking through the garden
It felt that with everything I was one
Then I wished that I could come back as a flower
As a flower
As a flower
How I wished that I could come back as a flower
As a flower
To spread the sweetness of love
To spread the sweetness of love
The dew had finished making love to many
A rainbow smelling sweet was in the air
I envied all the silence I saw growing
So unmoved by things outside themselves
Then how I wished that I could come back as a flower
As a flower
As a flower
How I wished that I could come back as a flower
As a flower
To spread the sweetness of love
How I wished that I could come back as a flower
Oh as a flower
As a flower
How I wished that I could come back as a flower
As a flower
As a flower
To spread the sweetness of love
To spread the sweetness of love
(background)
Wished that I could come back as a flower
Flower
Flower
Wished that I could come back as a flower
Flower
Sweetness of love
How I come back as a flower
Flower
Flower
How I come back as a flower
Flower
Sweetness of love
Sweetness of love
song performed by by Stevie Wonder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Where the passion flower grows
Lay down on your pillow
and turn the lights down low
let me take you to the garden
where the passion flower grows
Close your eyes and enter dreams
as love's emotion sets the scene
and flitters through the garden
where the passion flower grows
Touch the tender petals
of the flower as she grows
a tentative endeavour
as your feelings overflow
Let me draw you to the place
where ecstasy can be embraced
the beauty of the garden
where the passion flower grows
Feel your mind exploding
in the heavy scented air
experience the shiver
as your captured unaware
A little touch of heaven
where imagination flows
the valley in the garden
where the passion flower grows.
poem by Charles M. Moore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Flower For You My Dear
A flower will bloom on my plant too one day
And I shall offer it to you my dear.
My flower will have many petals,
Its colour will be that turns you envious of it and
Its fragrance will traverse beyond your stretches.
When I offer you my flower you will visit my garden perchance
And you will nip all the buds at once.
My flower will frown at me then and
I shall cry unto the skies
Till the stars invite me to join them for ever.
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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A Flower's fate
a flower lived happily in a garden,
there is a small room for the warden.
a naughty boy plucked the flower,
and ran away so far.
he kept the flower in his home,
the kept place is so warm.
the beautiful flower dried,
the naughty boy cried.
poem by Vsgk Vasanth
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The flower bloomed today
The flower bloomed today
It’s a yellow sunflower
Through the ground it made its way
The flower bloomed today
The petals fall as they may
Until the plant’s final hour
The flower bloomed today
It’s a yellow sunflower
poem by Amanda Dickerman
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