Responsibilitys
when i open like the petals
of a flower
you are the sun to
receive me
i do not burn in your heat
for it is as gentle as
the morning rays
of the lovely beginning
when you close your house
and hide in the orange
tinge of your bedroom
i exude a certain scent
so enticing
so you may sleep with some
dreams
and i shall be there
with you
you have become a
beautiful face
and i am the flower in your
hair
whatever, i am responsible
for this art
of loving
whatever, wherever,
whenever, we shall meet again
when you
become a fruit
i, may even assume to be
the last worm.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
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
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Flower of Delight
Enter my flower
love becomes an open door
into my hearts way
Once again I come
drinking in your sweet nectar
flower of delight
Color my dreams blue
enter my lovely flower
in the morning dew.
I melt in nectar
of this beautiful flower
she overwhelmes me.
poem by Heather Burns
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
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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 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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One Moment in Time
A single orange daisy.
Blooming from the sidewalk crack.
In the early morning.
Dew dripping off its delicate petals.
The sun is rising.
The flower struggles to survive.
Rising up from the concert it blossoms with new hope.
I’m going to live.
A small girl.
Pink dress and shiny black shoes.
She sees the flower.
The flower.
Wet petals, bursting with new light and hope.
She waddles over.
And picks it.
The flower.
It’s life.
Gone.
In just one moment in time.
-Madelyn
poem by Madelyn Burnham
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I met a flower
I met you like I met a flower in the street
A secret a beautiful magical growth
A wonder of life I suppose
And yet that flower speaks with curiousity and pride of what it has become
What kind a flower did I meet though?
Is it a rose? a meaning of love
Or a camillia who represents graciousness?
Did I meet an anemone? Fragile and delecate
But I met a flower that made me understand why a flower so spectacle about life and so couragious brought me to beauty and elageance in such a world
I met u flower like it was the beginning of ur life and u will be there till your pedals fall....
poem by Luisa Sanchez
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The Flaw
I remembered last night.
I told the child
that that was not blood
on our friend's body,
only red flower petals
all wet from the rains,
and to be quiet,
or we would wake him up
and ruin the special dreams
that come from sleeping
under red flower petals.
There is a flaw in the face of man
called war
that begs the question:
does the memory of the dead
hold up the living?
Perhaps sleeping
under red flower petals
will cause me to forget about it.
poem by Rebekah Gamble
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You”re Still You
The same hair curling on your head
At 49, you look younger,
There are no wrinkles on your forehead
The cheeks still smooth and tight
Your eyes still glow
Like fireflies reflected in the mirror
The moon against the sky
The way you talk defies the years of your absence
The way you look at me
Your way your gaze flies like a butterfly
Hovering back to me like tender hands
Of a woman
Caressing my face
Like golden yellow wing
Fluttering on the petals of a flower
Indeed, you are still you
Loving me
In gentle restraint and
I am deeply saddened
By my own kind of same
Usual indifference
Of the clouds drifting
Without even the thought
Of stopping by the
Peaks of trees
As you open yourself to the sun like
A tight bud opening its petals
Finally exposing its true gentle colors
A flower blooming
To the kindness of sunshine
And the freshness of the air
That this world can offer
I spread my wings like a yellow butterfly
Fluttering away to another garden
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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
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After You Unfold As A Flower In Complete Bloom
i see you unfolding as a flower to me
i become your sun to shine upon you
as you bloom completely
i watch the beauty before me
i am warm too as you are so beautiful
to the caresses of my rays
i hold you then kissing everything
your petals your leaves your receptacles
after you unfold as a flower in complete bloom
i will make you
some dews
gleaming
then i leave in this sunset of my life
you too must fall
petal by petal
then the leaves too must die
such is the temporary nature of our meeting
so beautiful yes
so brief indeed
and no dew of time must ever be wasted
till we meet again
i will always be the sun and you shall always be the
flower unfolding
to such a marvelous complete blooming
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Promise For You My Love...
loving you
is not to love the air
it is to touch the petals of a flower
to savor the scent and inhale it inside my body
to make you
a part of me so that anywhere i go i must carry you inside me
loving you is not to love the air
invisible
loving you is to caress your hair
lay my head in the comfort of your bosom
loving you is not a thought but a touch
loving you is not the future but my present
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Lovely Flower
I thank God for my lovely flower
For there are millions who are ignorant of her existance,
The enchanting aroma that is with her,
Or her charm that makes me to always keep thinking,
I am fascinated that she was wonderfully made,
Then just kept for me to find one day.
Seeing her is like waking up at dawn to bath in the Sun's rays
She has harmless attraction like a colorful butterfly,
Or a bright flower always sort by the bees for it's beauty,
Not forgetting it's sweet nectar also!
That is my sweet Sweetie.
The flower is far from me and I cannot smell the aroma now,
Last night I went to dreamland where I hoped to find my flower Then I woke up this morning to melodious sounds,
Sounds of chirping birds in the nearby tree as if to praise her,
Thinking about my flower.
I want to tend and care for this flower,
So that she may produce more flowers like herself,
O flower! Remain that lovely forever.
poem by Nyota Yasulwe
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Teen Aged Human...
The sleek bamboo shies away,
The stems of banana weep and cry,
Petals of chosen flowers hide and see,
How elegant you are at your teens, human.
The sun flowers just follow in obedience,
Where ever you go and disobedience,
To the sun is visually noted,
Angry sun looking for another flower,
To replace this infidel yellow flower.
When you walk in the garden,
The freshly bloomed flowers,
Close their petals,
For the fear of being ridiculed,
Just in the presence of,
your natural fragrance.
After Looking at your teeth,
Pearls of the ocean,
May go for a Whitening treat and
they may want to scale off the dirt that formed them.
When the wind meet the lady human at her teens,
It tries to blow as soft as the lady walks
When the moon meets the gentleman human at his teens,
She may show him the whitest face,
On full moon day to be his bride,
On new moon day.
If the sun passes by the lady human at her teens,
he will prostrate in front of her,
to choose him as a flower,
to wear on her plaited hair.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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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
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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Sonnet: On Youth
An unblossomed flower-like, I stay;
In youth, to spend each sleepless night till Dawn;
Opens my petals, heralding a day;
Perfuming air with dew-drops, I cry by morn.
How long I add on to the beauteous land?
Or will I turn a drooping flower soon?
Will I be plucked off by an unknown band?
Or stay to form the fruit with seed by Moon?
Or will I be a fallen flower young?
Or will my lover bee visit my home?
Or will the scorching sun, make me unsung?
Or will I be prey to some ghastly worm?
Each youth is like the unblossomed flower;
If blessed by God, It will be in His bower.
poem by John Celes
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Oh, Flower
Oh, flower, open wide your fragrant maze,
Curl back your petals, and greet the sun,
Look up and drink in its glorious rays,
Which will enhance your beauty, just begun.
Oh, flower, with colours of pure rich fire,
You will always radiate a warmth in me,
And your artistry ignites such desire,
That with truth you could be no parody.
Oh, flower, when raindrops touch your face,
And wild winds dictate your waving head,
Your stance will always sustain your grace,
And resplendence be found in your blossoms spread.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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The White Flower
THE WHITE FLOWER
A white flower opened its petals
to reveal a golden centre – so laden
with pollen –
Just then a gentle breeze passed
and
the flower opened its petals
and the gentle breeze wafted
its resin onto the bodies
of some young girls and boys
who were playing naked by a pond
until their skin glowed golden.
HJB 1990’s
poem by Helen Bauman
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