Lily
Lily blossomed like any girl of sixteen
she was the prettiest flower ever seen.
She danced all day in the summer breeze
and gave off an aroma to attract the bees.
In the day she let all the visiting insects in,
then at night she closed her petals and slept within.
Having so much attention kept her happy and content
until she saw two snakes entwined, with loving intent.
Lily became sad and lonely swaying there,
she desired someone to be with her;
another flower that could move in rhythm and dance,
and much more than that she wanted romance.
As the days passed by she began to wilt and grow old,
she knew very soon that her life would fold.
Looking back at her life, it began so happily,
but then she yearned for what couldn't be.
poem by Orlando Belo
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Related quotes
Your Wild Flower Of Mountain
Once upon a time was a wild flower,
Living in the mountains nearest sky and stars,
Other side of world was a young man living,
Seeking for the happiness of his life.
He was searching a wild flower,
A masterpiece of nature that fearless grew up,
A unique flower that lives lonely,
In a cold fresh breeze of mountain wind.
Seeking and seeking, finally you found her,
After a hard climbing on the rocks,
She was up on the peak of mountain,
In a wild rocky place.
You were astonished by her beauty,
You couldn't stop to stare at her,
She showed to you like an actress,
After curtains get opened on the stage.
She looked so strong to you, so pretty,
But also so charming and so delicate,
She knew you'll come and care for her,
All her life she was waiting for you.
Was enough only her petals to touch,
And she blossomed like a glowing smile,
Your face became so thrill and happy,
She was everything you ever wanted.
But hurry up, time is running,
Unfortunatelly never stops,
You have such precious moments with your wild flower to spend,
You waited for her so long and life never waits.
You took your gracious wild flower,
And nurtured her with love and faith,
Even you knew will last only a moment,
You gave her moments that she'll never forget.
But day to say good bye has come,
Sitting in your arms she closed her eyes and passed away,
Your face was last thing she wanted to see,
Before she got the last breath passing to eternity.
Don't waste your time, be with your loved one,
She is so special and so worthy in this shortless life,
Give to your wild flower of mountain your great love,
Don't wait for destiny from you to steal it.
poem by Cristina Teodor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Garden Of Life
The flower
of my
life
was
wilting.
suddenly
her energy
began
to drain.
the deep
red
color
began
to wane.
Petals
falling
daily.
Calling
upon
my muse
She began
drawing
strength
from our
heavenly
garden.
Once again
she stands
in her
brilliance
a lovely
flower
in the
garden
of life.
poem by Heather Burns
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Calla Lily Ballad
The 'calla' is exquisite
To peer 'pon with delight.
Its thick-green stem
Is a unique sight.
A favorite, it lends
Its touch to all:
Boutonnière, centerpiece,
Paintings for the wall.
A gorgeous flower,
The calla lily is.
A gorgeous flower,
The calla lily is.
Its beauty—endless—
Is never remiss.
A gorgeous flower,
The calla lily is.
poem by Walterrean Salley
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You Are Like A Flower
You are like a flower
Growing in beauty
Nature has its own way
Making you uniquely
So I’ll wait until the day
You sprout with love
Because anything less
Would not be enough
You are like a flower
Strong with the wind
Never giving up your roots
You grow and never let loose
Should I protect you anymore?
When the strength you have
Is already within you
You are like a flower
Giving off good qualities
Selfless and fragrant
Keeping yourself steady
You know something new
Comes out everyday
You are like a flower
You attract attention
With your good look
You are sensitive
It is what makes you strong
Though you can be easily plucked
You fight for your life
You decide what is what
You are a like a flower
For a flower is honest
What you see is what you get
You stand out like a flower should
I will remember how gentle you are
A flower in need of love, you are set
Because even if you are all these
You are soft and delicate
It’s my pleasure to make sure
That nothing changes it
My Flower
poem by Joshua Gilchrist
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It Is The Details, Be Aware, And Then Be Creative
he could not believe you
when you enumerated all the parts of the flower
what he meant perhaps was only a petal
how it smells at six o'cock in the evening
when you are with him but you said, in all completer
scientific details as follows:
the flower is made of its:
1.Petals are used to attract insects into the flower,
they may have guidelines on them and be scented.
2.Stigma Is covered in a sticky substance that the pollen grains will adhere to.
3. The style raises the stigma away from the Ovary to decrease the likelihood of pollen contamination. It varies in length.
4.Ovary This protects the ovule and once fertilisation has taken place it will become the fruit.
5. The Ovule is like the egg in animals and once fertilisation has taken place will become the seed.
6.Receptacle This is the flower's attachment to the stalk and in some cases becomes part of the fruit after fertilisation e.g. strawberry.
7.Flower stalk Gives support to the flower and elevates the flower for the insects.
8.Nectary This is where a sugary solution called nectar is held to attract insects.
9.Sepal Sepals protect the flower whilst the flower is developing from a bud.
10.Filament This is the stalk of the Anther.
11.Anther The Anthers contain pollen sacs. The sacs release pollen on to the outside of the anthers that brush against insects on entering the flowers. The pollen once deposited on the insect is transferred to the stigma of another flower or the same flower. The ovule is then able to be fertilised.
he could have been sad. He wants the poetic sense of things
not the scientific, realistic approach
to something, like a flower,
the symbol of his love for you.
You busy yourself, without feelings.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Lonely:
Lonely,
So, so lonely,
I feel like that flower I seen today,
It was in a yard surrounded by nothing but weeds and grass, none of his flower friends were out with him swaying along with him in the breeze,
So he was swaying all alone in the breeze.
Lonely,
Lonely,
So, so lonely,
Along with the loneliness, comes along boredom,
To make me feel even worse,
Great!
Fabulous!
My boredom is growing old,
So, so old,
I am about to scream,
So as not to be board anymore,
Who is with me?
On this road of pure boredom?
poem by Sherry Painter
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A Snow-White Lily
There was a snow-white lily
Grew by a cottage door:
Such a white and wonderful lily
Never was seen before.
The earth and the ether brought it
Sustenance, raiment, grace,
And the feet of the west wind sought it,
And smiled in its smiling face.
Tall were its leaves and slender,
Slender and tall its stem;
Purity, all its splendour,
Beauty, its diadem.
Still from the ground it sprouted,
Statelier year by year,
Till loveliness clung about it,
And was its atmosphere.
And the fame of this lily was bruited
'Mong men ever more and more;
They came, and they saw, and uprooted
Its life from the cottage door.
For they said, ``'Twere shame, 'twere pity,
It here should dwell half despised.
We must carry it off to the city,
Where lilies are loved and prized.''
The city was moved to wonder,
And burst into praise and song,
And the multitude parted asunder
To gaze on it borne along.
Along and aloft 'twas uplifted,
From palace to palace led;
Men vowed 'twas the lily most gifted
Of lilies living or dead.
And wisdom, and wealth, and power,
Bowed down to it more and more:-
Yet it never was quite the same flower
That bloomed by the cottage door.
For no longer the night-dews wrought it
Raiment, and food, and grace;
Nor the feet of the west wind sought it,
To dance in its dimpling face.
'Twas pursued by the frivolous rabble,
With poisonous lips and eyes;
They drenched it with prurient babble,
And fed it with fulsome lies.
Thus into the lily there entered
The taint of the tainted crew,
Till itself in itself grew centred,
And it flattery drank like dew.
Then tongues began words to bandy
As to whose might the lily be.
``'Tis mine,'' said the titled dandy;
Said the plutocrat, ``'tis for me.''
Thus over the lily they wrangled,
Making the beautiful base,
Till its purity seemed all mangled,
And its gracefulness half disgrace.
Next they who had first enthroned it,
And blatantly hymned its fame,
Now, curdling their smiles, disowned it,
And secretly schemed its shame.
The lily began to wither,
Since the world was no longer sweet;
And hands that had brought it thither,
Flung it into the street.
A sensitive soul and tender
The flung-away lily found:
He had seen it in hours of splendour,
So he lifted it from the ground.
He carried it back to the garden
Where in olden days it grew,
And he knelt, and prayed for it pardon
From the sun, and the breeze, and the dew.
Then the breeze, since it knows no malice,
And the sun that detesteth strife,
And the dew whose abode is the chalice,
Would have coaxed back the lily to life.
But the lily would not waken,
Nor ever will waken more;
And feet and fame have forsaken
Its place by the cottage door.
poem by Alfred Austin
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Abbherence!
A man was on the floor
Selling coco at the shore.
Making meal & money, he's happy.
Looking at d stars, he laid airy.
But the tale had a twist
Wid no legs, he held tight his fist
And the hatred tale started.
His fingers ran through pages
He knew history since sages
Giving lectures he spent the day
Moon or sun, knowing not from where came d ray
There lied in tale a twist
With no eyes, he held tight his fist
And the hatred tale started.
In a garden blossomed a flower
Reason being aroma, all wanted it ever
Few hours hence, it was plucked
Days later, dry it looked
That is where the tale took a twist
This' one more in that list
And the hatred tale started.
The hatred tale that had a twist
When few couldn't hold tight their fist
That hatred tale still in place
When some flawed life as they couldn't race
When a man wins if he thinks he can
& flower that spreads cheer before it dries
WHY SHOULD A LOSER END LOSER? ?
poem by BhanuPrakash Singh
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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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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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Romance and Dance
Two tortoise were romantically talking,
not on all fours, but on their back feet.
Music came from the kitchen window
and they began dancing cheek to cheek.
They looked incredibly in love and happy
whilst in the vegetable patch they danced.
They stopped for a nibble on fresh lettuce
and then resumed their fine romance.
He said that she was such a lovely dancer,
and she replied that she was easily led.
He asked if she would like to dance a tango,
and she said, “Yes, but in the flower bed.”
poem by Orlando Belo
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Laura Lee and Her Rose
My name is Laura Lee
And I enjoy spending my time
Playing in the sunlight
With my little Rose,
The daughter of my dreams,
She came to me
As welcome as a lilac breeze
Four years ago when I was twenty.
I’m married to her father
Who is seven years older than me,
I was a young girl
And he was tall and handsome,
His words were sweet
Like tree-ripened summer fruit
And he made me feel loved
Like I never felt before.
When Rose was born,
The love that was inside of me
Was like a small seed taking form,
Blossoming into flower and soul,
Transforming me into mother
And no longer a little girl,
She was the petals of my heart.
But the father of my Rose
No longer appreciated the garden
From which his flower sprung,
The mother that gave him
Such a lovely fragrance
That will linger long into the world
With his same blue eyes,
He no longer kissed me tenderly like before,
I felt rejected and despised.
Rose’s father began offering
His sun-sweetened words to other girls
Even younger than me,
Staying out late into the night
Roaming the city streets
Seeking superficial pleasures
Instead of tending his garden and his flower.
My heart broke like delicate chinaware,
I wept in a world without rainbows,
The man that gave me love
Now treated me harshly and unkind;
I know, I’ll have to leave him
And find all my hope
In the flower that came from me
And the flower that will always be in me.
poem by Uriah Hamilton
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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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A flower to goodblye
It was late supper i asked you about
a flower but you said how? then I
knew it is your debut how happy
and lucky i was i could have you
The following days the suffer begins to
ruin the compatibility of picture of us
yet i had a conflict but fixed after all
then i found out your own thorn as well
I didn't count that much because I trusted
you and Im the one with miserable
complexity as we knew but more than
a year and stil he has the space over you
Before anything else million times
a flower turn to blue and frequent
arguments passed without serious
talks in any conversation im loser to you
Even long days of tears and sleepless
nights came through still we shared our
'iloveyou', but following days another
storm will put me boiling point and
bad words and ugly me come pointing you
Revenge of you is like lightning curse
striking my balls and realised you keep
him as your fall back and give your flower
same as you what you gave it the last time
Tough to over come the burns you fired
and this scar will remain forever a sign
Words that are unlikely to hear wasn't meant
it is a meaning of unconscious love, a powerful
never been recognized because a flower you
gave was pearl that left me scared.
You are a flower symbol of life and change
your lovely scent and colors means change
your tears when i teared means change
but you are not the flower that want me to stay
you are the flower that want me to walk alone and change.
My flower i kept you in a safe place
but i will let my destiny say to you
I love you Goodbye.
poem by Immanuel Santos
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Birth, Pain, Love, Happiness, Sacrifice and Death-A Life Quoted
Penning down the fantasy,
From the land with mortals as scarcity,
Every frame having its liberty,
Where no word is struck with sterility.
The verse depicting a prose,
As in the clouds the sun rose,
Earning the smile of every earthly rose,
And going to touch Lord’s toes.
A flower was born out of the soil,
Where others were in turmoil,
Beauty of love it had in its essence coil,
Budding out it was juvenile.
Grew it on every ray of light,
But the days were not full of delight,
The clouds and the floods came into its sight,
And it slept every day as if it was a night.
Faded were the colors,
Days it lived like counting numbers,
But there is a God who never slumbers,
For the life of a child He played like a gambler.
Sent He a gardener with His smile,
Who never left that flower for a single while,
Who would bring the showers from the flooding Nile,
Who gave the flower a new color and went away as He's agile.
Gardener being God,
Sent by the Lord,
Was the only reason for the flower to make a nod,
Made with the flower a life bond.
Nurtured he the flower and its roots to the earth,
Never let the flower move away from mirth,
Everytime he touched it gave a new birth,
And the flower died every night in his memory when he returnest.
The gardener had to do his service,
This was too known to the flower’s nervous,
Told it to him, it was thrown in a circus,
But he never completely acknowledged its reverence.
God was the supporter to the shining flower,
Which showed like a bright star,
The gardener’s pain was its scar,
And his hand was its power.
Flowers cursed by the Satan,
To live until the autumn,
But gifted by the God’s solemn,
To live ever after, by the aroma, in men.
Said the flower to his Almighty,
“Crush me under your bare feet”,
Replied the planter to his child,
“You are my child from the bosom
And I would melt myself in the guilt.”
The flower with a pearl in its eye and a smile in the sun,
“The colors of my life, the water in my roots,
The food in my shoots,
Are no a pleasure of Him or the earth’s loots,
But of your might.
I would get my heavenly abode under your feet,
By serving my God who gave me my colors,
And my fragrance would keep you in my Light.
poem by Aashish Kalra
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Three Flowers
I made a little song about the rose
And sang it for the rose to hear,
Nor ever marked until the music's close
A lily that was listening near.
The red red rose flushed redder with delight,
And like a queen her head she raised.
The white white lily blanched a paler white,
For anger that she was not praised.
Turning I left the rose unto her pride,
The lily to her enviousness,
And soon upon the grassy ground espied
A daisy all companionless.
Doubtless no flattered flower is this, I deemed;
And not so graciously it grew
As rose or lily: but methought it seemed
More thankful for the sun and dew.
Dear love, my sweet small flower that grew'st among
The grass, from all the flowers apart,-
Forgive me that I gave the rose my song,
Ere thou, the daisy, hadst my heart!
poem by William Watson
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The Friendship Of The Frogs
this the picture of a green frog
with big rolling eyes
like a golf ball
it floats on a lily leaf
beside it a big yellow lily flower
the waters ripple
it is a happy frog of friendship
that my friends sent me an hour ago
and my friend wants it back
in a minute
to assure
that i still want her back
i am thinking like a slimy frog.
shall i send it back or not?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Death of a Flower
Love is a soft, sweet flower
Blooming 'neath sunlight's rays
Life gives love its power
Sustains you all your days
Love is a soft, sweet flower
Bright petals circularly arrayed
Life gives love its power
To hold one's heart in sway
Love is a soft, sweet flower
Flourishing by a cool bay
Life gives love its power
But eventually both fade to gray
Love is a wilted flower
Petals all crumpled and frayed
Life gave love its power
But death took both away
poem by Elizabeth Sheaffer
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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
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A Window Of Time 2
I looked
out of the window of time
where I once saw my mothers eyes
To my surprise
there she was again
She put her hand to the glass
She said put your hand to mine
I couldn't understand
how this could be
Then I realised
I was back as a child
She said son
your going to meet someone
She's going to change your life
She's going to have your child
Just like a lily flower
She's going to make you smile
Now as a man
I sometimes look out of the window and smile
I tell my daughter lily
of the time I saw a ghost
that looked just like her nan
poem by Dave Alan Walker
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