Some Hands
some hands are always
ready to hold a flower
and hand it
to another
others however
have remained closed
like a rock
where no flower ever grows
how i wish
that this world shall be filled with flowers
like hands
that open like buds slowly blooming
caressed as they are
with the warm rays of the sun
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Amaryllis
A flower needs to be this size
to conceal the winter window,
and this color, the red
of a Fiat with the top down,
to impress us, dull as we've grown.
Months ago the gigantic onion of a bulb
half above the soil
stuck out its green tongue
and slowly, day by day,
the flower itself entered our world,
closed, like hands that captured a moth,
then open, as eyes open,
and the amaryllis, seeing us,
was somehow undiscouraged.
It stands before us now
as we eat our soup;
you pour a little of your drinking water
into its saucer, and a few crumbs
of fragrant earth fall
onto the tabletop.
poem by Connie Wanek
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Blooming Pleasures
Blooming Pleasures
By Lori Triggs
Copyrighted 2006
My flower was grown with buds
Waiting to bloom by a man.
My flower was deflowered with
Blooms opened fertilized its seed.
My flower was defiled by
My ex love for he forgot to
Love, compassion with attention.
My flower was debloomed and
Felt wilted with no buds.
My flower was grown with
New buds by a new man, who cares,
Gives love, compassion with attention.
My flower was deflowered again
By the new man the first day we met.
My flower sowed its seed
3 times at the Hyatt March 10th,
After being out of the Robert Wood Johnson
Hospital emergency room for Cardiology.
I say my heart works fine,
But I might need a hip or joint replacement.
poem by Lori Triggs
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wild Forest Flower
Rough around the edges but a tender center
This is my wild forest flower
Short and slender with long flowing blonde hair
This is my wild forest flower
A loving heart that goes beyond what I can see
This is my wild forest flower
I want to hold my flower in my hands
Wondering why she holds back and refuses to stand
I water it every now and then to watch it grow
But it takes too long because it’s a little slow
So I wait patiently for the flower to begin to rise
Even though I can still hear the weeping willows cries
Firm and hard headed but with a loving touch
This is my wild forest flower
Always hiding and always scared like a little child
This is my wild forest flower
The only one im willing to be with anymore
This is my wild forest flower
A darkened hush rises in the sky above my flower
The roots slowly exposing themselves out of fear
A forest fire begins in the distance soon to consume it
The fire rages ready to consume the small thing in power
This little bitty flower that I love and hold so dear
but I laugh because I know how this fire got lit
poem by Branden Aeling
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Dracula Flower
The flower was stretching
It's hand to find a honey-bee
To be embraced and kissed!
The flower remained
In meditation to invoke God
To sent her groom
As she bore the nectar
To be sucked and emptied
By the trunk of a honey-bee
The long hairy hands
Of the flower frightened
The butterflies move wantonly
The caterpillars jumping
In quest to quench the thirst!
As the flower in penance
Heard the humming
Of a honey-bee unseen
She opened her eyes
In search to up and sides
And she was enthused
To see the blue-black
Groom of her from heaven
With wings shivering
As if in a whirl wind
Moving to her lips
To kiss and empty her!
The flower leaped her hand
To embrace the honey-bee
Whose nail ladden legs
Did wand her hands
Yet she never let loose
Her embrace to get-him close
To her breast stored with honey.
The honey-bee sucking nectar
From the lips of the flower
Never see him trapped
In the tangle of figments.
He struggled and jerked
But the flower sucked
The honey-bee's life
In return to her nectar he sucked
poem by Vadakkumpurath Ramesan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Nobody likes
Nobody likes
A plant
Without flower buds
A flower bud that does not
Bloom in to a flower
A flower
That is not beautiful
Nobody remembers
A flower
That does not have
An aromatic smell
A person
Who does not have a
Charming behavior
Whose deeds do not?
Spread
Aroma in the world
25-02-2012
244-155-02-12
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A crown of flowers
A crown of flowers
~
I don a crown of flowers
To mask the sorrow inside
Eyes which fall upon its beauty
Do not see the tears I cry
While the flowers bud to blossom
I wilt to almost nothing
In a garden colour filled with life
There is also a shadow found
In the sun the flower buds open
In the dark a heart is closed
The flowers shall be woven together
To hide something left unseen
The rose, the tulip and the bluebell rise
I am envious of their beautiful life
So I don I crown of flowers
To mask my sorrow inside
poem by Matthew Holloway
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This Flower
This flower is a gift...given to all...
Some loose it...
Some have it stolen...
And some give it away...
This flower cannot be replaced...
For once it's gone...it's gone...
Another cannot be grown...
When others do not have their flower anymore...
Some of them laugh because you still have this flower...
But havin' this flower still shouldn't make you feel akward...
Bein' able to hold on to this flower for so long should bring you joy...
Havin' this flower after many others have lost theirs...
Should make you feel special at heart...
You shouldn't be ashamed that you still have this flower...
Hold this flower close and be proud...
This flower can bring Happiness, tears, regret, and even Life...
If you still hold this flower...
Hold strong...
You are not the only one...
For I still hold this lovely flower...
poem by Jennifer Carmical
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Gardener LVII: I Plucked Your Flower
I plucked your flower, O world!
I pressed it to my heart and the
thorn pricked.
When the day waned and it
darkened, I found that the flower had
faded, but the pain remained.
More flowers will come to you with
perfume and pride, O world!
But my time for flower-gathering
is over, and through the dark night
I have not my rose, only the pain
remains.
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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Wilted Flower
I can't forget a face
The face which made my flower grow
Blooming without the need of rain
Or the warm light of the sun
I can't forget those spoken words to me
Words I tried to ignore
Making my flower react to the way I do
With me, I was shedding tears, my flower, falling apart
I can't erase the words from my mind
My tears pour more, making it hard to breathe
The flower you gave me is withering slowly
Not long from now, it will wilt and never bloom again
poem by Sarah Bruun
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Feeling The Sunflower
feel the leaves of this living flower
pierce and burst
the dews still dreaming
this morning
the glow of the sun from the east
slowly spreading between
the hills
you do not notice
the slow unfolding of this flower
through its red petals
now wanting to
open from the hold of
your fingers
my living flower
blooms today
it is telling the world
what freedom is
and its purity
and its being so temporary...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Living Flower
feel the leaves of this living flower
pierce and burst
the dews still dreaming
this morning
the glow of the sun from the east
slowly spreading between
the hills
you do not notice
the slow unfolding of this flower
through its white petals
now wanting to
open from the hold of
your fingers
my living flower
blooms today
it is telling the world
what freedom is
and its purity
and its being so temporary...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Through a Flower's Eye
No one has seen the world
Through a flower’s eye.
Looking up at the world
Gazing into the sky.
Feeling so small
And wondering why
He ended up as a flower
So pointless and shy.
Though small and unsteady
The flower stands
With beauty and elegance
In the gardener’s hands.
His life ahead
Is all unplanned
But this flower will beautify
Any unknown land.
poem by Lydia Jean
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Hands.... (That Dared To Speak!)
the hands....
that cleaned the old man
lying on urine stained sheets,
that planted the bulbs
in the old woman's flower bed.
that washed the dishes
for forty years....
the hands...
that built the old barn,
that plowed the fields,
that harvested the crops....
the hands...
that stroked desire's body,
that found each secret treasure,
that closed the window.
that held the baby,
that taught the child to write,
that buttoned his suit
on the day he was married.
the hands....
that buried the body,
that brushed leaves from the grave,
that packed away pictures.
the hands....
that picked up the pen,
that turned bloodstained pages,
that dared to speak!
the hands...
now old and withered,
painfully bruised,
often clasped in prayer,
that open to take the small child's hand;
that unlock the door,
and beckon to those in need...
the hands...
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Lover Sings Of A Garden
Oh, beautiful are the flowers of your garden,
The flowers of your garden are fair:
Blue flowers of your eyes
And dusk flower of your hair;
Dew flower of your mouth
And peony-budded breasts,
And the flower of the curve of your hand
Where my hand rests.
poem by Helen Hoyt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The babies..
Lie on the back and hold the limbs up,
The biggest of the toes first goes in,
Taste not so good, and then hold the feet,
It is so funny to look through the hole,
After getting bored of doing this stunt,
Open the limbs wide, stretch as hard as possible,
Turn the head to the side to catch the toy that's left,
Just few inches gap; open the flower hand to reach,
Still not catch-able, keep the legs firm on the ground,
Push the body slightly up, the hand holds the rattling toy,
Take that heavy thing to the chest to hold with both hands,
Shaking of those two hands make the noise from the toy,
Get confused and threatened at first, then start to shake,
The rattling toys of life, the babies are smart.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Flower with years
Like a seed
I began in the open firmaments of the heavens
battered by the very elements of nature
to make me strong
in a milieu that
oppresses, dictates, and abuses
but I’ll rise'
like a flower, I bloomed with light’s rays
like a flower, I was groomed by years
like a flower, I unfolded with grace
like a flower, I am the living years
but watch and see'
I’ll be your treasure because of these years
I see me with years -
a cistern that absorbs the days
then
replace them with experiences
a price not paid with a few years
so I murmur not
because of these years
yes
I am these years
but I’ll rise'
like a flower, I bloomed with light’s rays
like a flower, I was groomed by years
like a flower, I unfold with grace
like a flower, I live in years
but watch and see'
I’ll be your treasure because of these years
I’m
crafted in hurt, misery and pain
A price I paid for younger to listen and fear
yet they see this not
yet I’m not perturbed because of these years
but I’ll rise'
like a flower I bloom with light’s rays,
like a flower I groomed by years
like a flower I unfold with grace
like a flower I live in years
but watch and see'
I’ll be your treasure because of these years
poem by Paul Andrew Bourne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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These Hands
Given by God -are these hands!
One can do many things -with these hands
With love one can help a strangers' hands-
Allay and comfort the elders' gnarled hands
Clean sweep and mop with these hands
Decorate and embellish with these hands
Cook and serve food to all with these hands
Clasp a loved one with these hands
Applaud one with pleasure with these hands
Dig the soil and form a garden with these hands
Hold a book to read with these hands
Write and post a card with these hands
Type a poem to cheer someone with these hands
Draw a picture and sew clothes with these hands
Paint a beautiful scene to amuse with these hands
Play a game of volley ball or cricket with these hands
Swim the waters and row a boat with these hands
Pick the harvests and fruits with these hands
Feed the animals and birds with these hands
Seek the warmth of dear ones with these hands
Feel the soft petals of a flower with these hands
Fold the palms to pray with these hands
Given by God - are these hands!
poem by Chandra Thiagarajan
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