When That Flower Wilted
on the path
one late afternoon
that wild flower wilted
its life was too short
yet it bloomed in full beauty
that noonday
no one noticed it
except the sunset
fading in pastel orange
then the world turns
into a black sky
that flower remains so true
inside my mind
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Wilted Flower
Your waking dreams
I hear your screams
Of the hour
My wilted flower
All alone
Can’t go home
You must cower
My wilted flower
So much pain
Standing in the rain
You are not of power
My wilted flower
You run away
And there you stay
In the cold rain shower
My wilted flower
Memories of all the hate
Your horrible fate
They no longer tower
My wilted flower
In peace you die
I mustn’t cry
Your last hour
My wilted flower
~2009~
poem by Jennifer Cramer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Be Mine My Love
roses are red
violets are blue
flowers so beautiful
they remind me of you
so beautiful to behold
so soft and sensual
a flower of such beauty
that makes me short of breath
a wild flower you are thats for sure
untamed and full of life
lighting up my life
if i propose will you become my wife
for my love for you is like a vice
one i find i gladly need in my life
you my flower you my love
take my hand as you have my heart
make me the happiest man alive
on this world of ours.
poem by Graham Russell
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Wild flower
she's a girl, only a girl
a girl, who have a frigile heart
but possessed a strong spirit
a girl who have faith
she's only a girl who defies her wisdom
a girl who stand for principles
a girl who belives in justice
a girl who fight for her rights
the beauty inside of her
the purity of her heart
looking for her soul to find happiness
she's a girl who always wearing a smile
a happy and contented person
a girl who wish to have simple life
a girl who have a dream
a dream for peace and love
she's a girl, like a flower in the wilderness
a wild flower always stand after the storm
a wild flower bloom after the rain
even she's in vain
and let her beauty show to the world
she's a wild flower
the wild flower in my heart alone
-vanessa-
poem by Vanessa Cabrera
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Wilted Flower
She was a wilted flower
When I first saw her
Standing against the wall
She became a movie star
A glamorous, breathtaking
Movie star
I saw her yesterday
She is a wilted flower once more
Hoping
Praying
Dreaming
That someday
She will bloom again
She was a wilted flower
When I first saw her
poem by Gary Revel
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The flower in the Wild
As i walk past hurriedly
I notice this violet flower staring back at me
It lies quietly yet loudly screaming with beauty
I stop!
Amazed at the sight
As i bend down to pick it out and make it mine
I freeze!
Ashamed at my Selfishness because not everything beautiful has to be mine
let it grow....its fine!
And i walk away yet i wonder
Why i had never noticed this splendor
How i always noticed the overgrown Bush but never the Flower
Oblivious to beauty, my quest for lifes treasures left me blind
....Blind to the flower in the wild
poem by Wanelisa Albert
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Like A Flower
Nothing in life
Can match the beauty of a flower
Its frailness
Its softness
Just like man differs
in shapes and sizes
Each flower can be differed in color
Just like life a flower is diverse
But not unpredictable
A good thing it is “just like”
For if life was only a flower
It was indeed
Short lived
poem by Zarina Binda
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Resuscitation
I commiserate with empathetic attitude
With platitudes of yesterday
Accented with caomparison and forgiveness
That i have sprinkled along the way
For in this path called My Life
A single flower i have been
Once blaming all of the weeds of this world
For the pestulence of sin
I have all but completely wilted
From the suns sizzling rays-burned
But somehow i was salvaged and to the sod returned
New chances i've been given
By the wonders of the Universes higher power
A most enlightening and forgiving Spirit
Now back to the sod-A full blooming flower
poem by Theodora Onken
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A Beautiful Flower
I have a flower, Yes I have picked a beautiful flower,
One with greatest strength like a tree with mightiness and power,
Power of faith beyond any measure,
Yet precious and few like a beautiful treasure.
How precious its love it shares,
How very precious sweet and rare.
Easily lost as colors are tossed on the tides,
For those who tend to set it aside.
Beauty beyond their eye’s is what I have gained as a prize,
And keeping it, is what makes my heart so wise.
It may seem like neglect on their part,
But neglect has not been the wish of their heart.
Why so often many are in a rush,
The beauty of this flower is often a hush.
I praise my flower for its humbleness,
Staying that way always brings forth its beautifulness.
Yes my flower that I have I would gladly share,
To those who appreciate my gift that is rare.
This flower is a gift and I will tell you why,
Because its known for its beauty that will never die.
For if my flower and me ever depart,
The beauty of it will always be found in my heart.
Yes I have a flower, a beautiful flower to name,
It would have to be beautiful,
it would have to meet its beauty inside and out the same.
For that isn’t hard to do, Why you don’t even need a clue,
For I could have never have picked a better you,
My Dear Friend (put name here)….. Its true.
A name, that’s beautiful as you.
poem by Esther Ayala
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Sun flower
In the bright sunny day
My eye’s make a flower their pray
A flower that has indeed crossed
The boundaries of the lost beauty in flowers
A flower which has a very pleasant
View and answer you’re eyes like
Looking at a creasant in the dark sky
This flowers behavior is utmost
Majestic and generous and it
Has the most delightful look
Like looking at a sunset hill
This flower is known as The sun flower
poem by Afrasiab khan
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The Colors
sky blue clouds
saffron flowers
green green grass
orange horizons
fading afternoon
black starless nights
pastel brown nipples
spreading legs
on white mattresses.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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0184 Poetry's Triumph
When that strange stirring to a poem comes -
half-heard, half-formed, some seed deep in the mind -
the heart lights up, so eager to explore
the unknown path that listening may find:
obedience, awe, devotion, humbleness
all rise to meet the offering of the word,
and gently, like new father with his child,
tend precious stranger granted to their care.
Then silence turns to music in the mind
and all too solid words form, black and white;
behind the magic of the manifest
remains - less noonday, than unbroken night...
The poet's failure? No, his Muse's power -
if readers hear that seed which spoke the flower.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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For JOY
NOW THAT you have grown older
do not shy away from the possibility that happiness can still be
within the hold of your hands
that your lips can still be red and all alive
for the next kiss
no matter how late love
can be,
do not look back
you might fall to the past that
keeps on pulling you
to the arms of
grief
It was not at all your fault that the flower
of love wilted
too early
He was the sun that came at the wrong time
and did not notice
how sweet can you be
at sunset
Now, another moon has noticed
the beauty of your
petals
the sweetest scent that only comes
when the night is
deep and
so silent
Walk under its light
feel the warmth of its rays
close your eyes and feel
once again
how love can be stronger and sweeter
after the first pain
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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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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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 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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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
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A Flower Blooms Once More
This flower a beauty,
battered and Hurt,
This Beautiful flower wasn't Destroyed,
she In time strengthened, and bloomed once more.
poem by Crimson Love
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The Concrete and the Abstract
The concrete is visible,
the abstract is invisible.
The concrete is the outside,
the abstract is the inside.
The concrete is objective,
the abstract is subjective.
People go on searching for
God in the concrete.
'We would like to see God'
-they say.
But only the concrete can be seen;
the abstract has to be felt.
The concrete can be seen-
with the eyes open,
the abstract has to be seen-
with eyes closed.
God is inside you, as you.
You cannot stand outside God
and see Him;
you can see Him
only from the inside-
by being Him.
If you see a flower,
you can look at it scientifically.
You look at the chemistry of it,
You dissect it and
you come to know
about the components of it.
But something is missed
in that very analysis.
The beauty is missed,
because beauty is not a component.
If you ask the scientist -
'Where is the beauty that was in the flower? ’ he will say-
'That was not there,
it was just an illusion.'
'I have dissected it-
all and all,
and these are the things
that I have found.
These chemicals were there,
this matter was there,
these atoms, these molecules....
but there was no beauty.'
But when the scientist
gives the flower to his wife,
he knows deep within his heart
he is not giving her
something chemical,
He is giving to her
the beauty of the flower.
A poet said -
'Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder',
But I say it lies in the heart of the lover.
That beauty is not be seen,
it has to be felt,
not from the outside,
but from the inside
by being the flower itself.
poem by Nazmul Haque
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