A Death In The Morning...!
A single solitary sun ray
Dashing through the morning dew
Touched the side of the little yellow flower
Trying to wake up spredding yellow petals
A top the green grassy hill...
The birds washing their faces
Whistling little tunes
Glanced at the flower
With a delight in their eyes...
Like the blade of a fencing sword
Racing through the wind
The sharp edge of the grass cutters cutter
Caught the little flower
Chopping it into thousand yellow specks...
Among the green slivers
That showered back on to the grass
Little golden yellow specks
Smiled sadly a last smile
Shattered dew drops
Lazily settled down
Kissing the yellow dust
Trying to feel the flower
Trying to kiss its face...!
poem by Rowving Smith
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Related quotes
Lone Yellow Flower Waves In The Open Fields
lone yellow flower
waves in the open fields
bowing according to the tune
among the sea of green;
lone yellow flower has no one to blame
and it seeks none to praise
for it knows all life comes in
when the conditions are right;
lone yellow flower knows
death comes in like the wind;
lone yellow flower
is never alone
for it is a part of the expression
of the earth and time and the universe;
lone yellow flower sees what is before and around
lone yellow flower observes what is within and about
and so lone yellow flower lives with no delusions
no beliefs of heaven and hell
fears none and does not live or die
to please or amuse or appease;
and lone yellow flower
blossoms and shines
and shrivels and ceases
in harmony
with what actually is;
lone yellow flower
waves in the open fields
bowing according to the tune
among the sea of green
poem by Raj Arumugam
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Yellow Ribbon On The Old Oak Tree
who can forget the yellow ribbon
on that old oak tree? tell me.
tomorrow, i shall wear my yellow cap
my yellow shirt, my yellow brief,
my yellow pants.
my jaundiced eye, my golden yellow ring.
tomorrow, in my country, the sky is yellow.
all steps lead to the yellow brick road.
all fruits are ripe and mellow and yellow.
Tomorrow, the country is yellow.
Yellow for integrity, Yellow for change.
Yellow for justice. Yellow for truth.
One day more, and the sun shall rise
Yellow as ever.Yellow forever.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In Back of the Real
railroad yard in San Jose
I wandered desolate
in front of a tank factory
and sat on a bench
near the switchman's shack.
A flower lay on the hay on
the asphalt highway
--the dread hay flower
I thought--It had a
brittle black stem and
corolla of yellowish dirty
spikes like Jesus' inchlong
crown, and a soiled
dry center cotton tuft
like a used shaving brush
that's been lying under
the garage for a year.
Yellow, yellow flower, and
flower of industry,
tough spiky ugly flower,
flower nonetheless,
with the form of the great yellow
Rose in your brain!
This is the flower of the World.
poem by Allen Ginsberg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Look at this!
I saw a flower and it was gray.
I noticed the sun was out of the way.
Clouds were in its way.
But then it got sunny again,
and the flower was blue, purple, green, yellow,
clear, and yellow.
It was a pretty flower.
I looked at it and I told my mom that she should come and see
the beauteful flower and she thought that it was too.
The flower was very very very very very
very very very very very very very very very very
very very very very very
very very very very very pretty. And I looked and I looked.
And this is a very long poem,
Like a long day of thinking of good ideas to write this
really really really long poem.
Good-Bye forever!
Primrose
Yellow, yellow, yellow, yellow!
It is not a color.
It is summer!
It is the wind on a willow,
the lap of waves, the shadow
under a bush, a bird, a bluebird,
three herons, a dead hawk
rotting on a pole--
Clear yellow!
It is a piece of blue paper
in the grass or a threecluster of
green walnuts swaying, children
playing croquet or one boy
fishing, a man
swinging his pink fists
as he walks--
It is ladysthumb, forget-me-nots
in the ditch, moss under
the flange of the carrail, the
wavy lines in split rock, a
great oaktree--
It is a disinclination to be
five red petals or a rose, it is
a cluster of birdsbreast flowers
on a red stem six feet high,
four open yellow petals
above sepals curled
backward into reverse spikes--
Tufts of purple grass spot the
green meadow and clouds the sky.
poem by William Carlos Williams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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ThisFlower
ThisFlower
ThisFlower
This flower had a yellow center white lapetals
with Violet edges each little part a much larger
representation of this whole thing was not
as big as mye own hand eye devised a plan quite
similar to pulling stem from apple reading
alphabetic eye have to get to V for Violet
but instead of tempting fate or GOD or Jesus
his own SON or human reflex eye placed no letter
on this game but gamely twisted this flower
in a circle flicking petals in the air until
to mye surprise only one remained with
yellow centered white for love with Violet
edges this Symbol of our love this Flower
stem of green to base this Flower on,
this viable of love.
poem by Charles Hice
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In The Early Morning [2]
In the early morning
dew covers every piece of grass and flower
and I see green sprouts in the soft ground
that appears after the first rain,
some grow luxuriant and others are slender and fine.
Some dew covers every piece of grass and flower,
and new buds appear
on long green stems,
some grow luxuriant and others are slender and fine.
in an aromatic existence.
At dark red roses and pink hollyhocks
on long green stems,
butterflies appear new from there metamorphoses
while the sun spreads its yellow-golden rays,
at dark red roses and pink hollyhocks
bees and butterflies fly to and thro
in the early morning
while the sun spreads its yellow-golden rays
and I see green sprouts in the soft ground.
poem by Gert Strydom
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Yellow Roses
Hello you said the day we met
Handing me a yellow rose
You asked me out
And to your surprise
And to mine I said Id go
I thought it so romantic
And I found you sweet and bold
Though wed only met
I still said yes
To a single yellow rose
And for years to come
You were the one
To sleep with me at night
To laugh and talk
And share my thoughts
And hold me when Id cry
And on every occasion
And for no good reason to
A big bouquet or a single yellow rose
Was sent from you
Chorus:
Yellow roses
The color of sunshine
You loved me at one time
Why did you have to go
Yellow roses
Are you sending your new love
My bright yellow rose buds
I still love you so
I never see a yellow rose
That I didnt think of you
Its still my favorite flower
Though the yellows turned to blue
The day you left my teardrops fell
Upon your farewell not
You said goodbye like you said hello
With a single yellow rose
Chorus:
Yellow roses
The color of sunshine
You loved me at one time
Why did you have to go
Yellow roses
Are you sending your new love
My bright yellow rose buds
Oh I still love you so
Yellow roses
The color of sunshine
You loved me at one time
Why did you have to go
Sweet yellow roses
Are you sending your new love
My bright yellow rose buds
I still love you so
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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How Many Shades Of Green
HOW MANY SHADES OF GREEN
How many shades of green
Olive green
Dark green
Light green
Yellow green
How many shades of yellow
Deep yellow
Rose yellow
Sun yellow
Morning light yellow
How many shades of light
How much light
How much Beauty in the world
How much Light-
How much- God.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Duplicated Dandelion Diversity
what is a dandelion?
upon examination
a mini map mystery
wind reproductive diversity
multiple magnificent
miniaturized flowers
many tiny flight flower arrows
arranged symmetry reality
each tiny flower perceives
forms composite flower head
hundreds of yellow florets
upper layers raised to sky
butter cup yellow bright light
flower heart warms inflorescence
lower layers enlarge spread
curve down bow in symmetry
bright yellow bewitches souls
set off in contrast rich green grass
delights hearts walking grass blades
delights hearts walking green imagery
leaves form a rosette above central taproot
yellow to orange coloured flower heads spread
open in ray stream daytime close sleep night
flower heads mature spherical clocks spy
soon host birth transformations
real flowers wax dandelion blooms
each single flower head floret prepares
each seed stem attached white threads fluffy
cypselae on dandelion clock ticks
matured capitulum await breezes winds
to disperse in wind seed birth rights
hair-like calyx tissue waits above each ovary
each tiny flower has produced a seed
white spectral seed head manifests
design wonder delights child hands
dimensional layers link preflight mystery
seeds produce asexually by apomixes
where without pollination are produced seeds
offspring identical to the parent plants
resulting in offspring identical genetically
mystery mystery raptures in dandelions
strong breezes winds produce dandelion snows
run in fields as expand lift seed parachutes
seed-bearing parachutes create flower destiny
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Yellow Man
Very far away in a foreign land
Live the yellow woman and the yellow man
Hes been around for many-a-year
They say they were there before we were here
Eatin rice all day
While the children play
You see he believes
In the family
Just like you and me
Oh, yellow man, oh, yellow man
We understand, you know we understand
He keeps his money tight in his hand
With his yellow woman hes a yellow man
Got to have a yellow woman
When youre a yellow man
song performed by by Randy Newman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Self-forgetfulness
....Gentle smooth touch
Of flower petals,
Swallowing the kiss,
An angry buzzing bumblebee
Fluffy and painted
Like in a thousand colors
Leaving the pollen
On the fingertip,
Inhaling the pollen
For tasting the flower,
Sitting in that field of daffodils,
Yellow daffodils,
For dreaming love
Until self-forgetfulness,
For waking up,
The dew shining on the leaves,
The breast caressing,
Tasting the milk,
Caressing the skin,
Long hair touching
The increasing beard
And the flower flavor,
Flooding the mouths,
While kissing
And bearing all these....
poem by Marieta Maglas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Canary Yellow Canoe
In my canary yellow canoe - my yellow canoe
I want to go tripping in my canary yellow canoe
The eastmain, coppermine, back river too
In my canary yellow canoe
In my canary yellow canoe - yellow canoe
I want to run rivers in my canary yellow canoe
The desmoines river, rupert river, george river too
In my canary yellow canoe
In my canary yellow canoe - mellow yellow canoe
I want to go tripping in my canary yellow canoe
Chebugema, peace river, resolute too
In my canary yellow canoe
In my canary yellow canoe - my elephant too
I want to go tripping in my canary yellow canoe
Churchill, yellowknife, ross river too
In my canary yellow canoe
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In The Valley
Said the yellow-haired Spirit of Spring
To the white-footed Spirit of Snow,
“On the wings of the tempest take wing,
And leave me the valleys, and go.”
And, straightway, the streams were unchained,
And the frost-fettered torrents broke free,
And the strength of the winter-wind waned
In the dawn of a light on the sea.
Then a morning-breeze followed and fell,
And the woods were alive and astir
With the pulse of a song in the dell,
And a whisper of day in the fir.
Swift rings of sweet water were rolled
Down the ways where the lily-leaves grew,
And the green, and the white, and the gold,
Were wedded with purple and blue.
But the lips of the flower of the rose
Said, “where is the ending hereof?
Is it sweet with you, life, at the close?
Is it sad to be emptied of love?”
And the voice of the flower of the peach
Was tender and touching in tone,
“When each has been grafted on each,
It is sorrow to live on alone.”
Then the leaves of the flower of the vine
Said, “what will there be in the day
When the reapers are red with my wine,
And the forests are yellow and grey?”
And the tremulous flower of the quince
Made answer, “three seasons ago
My sisters were star-like, but since,
Their graves have been made in the snow.”
Then the whispering flower of the fern
Said, “who will be sad at the death,
When Summer blows over the burn,
With the fierceness of fire in her breath?”
And the mouth of the flower of the sedge
Was opened to murmur and sigh,
“Sweet wind-breaths that pause at the edge
Of the nightfall, and falter, and die.”
poem by Henry Kendall
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My Little Garden
Sun yet to born,
crows yet to wake,
I ran to my little garden.
Dews everywhere
dark made a blanket on my plants.
I am looking for my rose flower
Mummy said today it will blossom.
I touched all my little plants
and they returned the shakehand
with cold honey dews.
The first rays of sun is coming
its breaking the dark into pieces
and my little swing birds started singing.
Where is my flower?
I checked everywhere.
Oh I found my plant and I cant believe
The beautiful yellow rose
I touched it, kissed it and plucked it
Mummy, Daddy.I screamed with joy
I run to them and showed, see my rose flower..
I stretched my hand to my mummy
then I noticed a red dot in the flower,
It was a dropp of blood
may be I touched the thorne
may be the plants eyedrops
may be the the flowers pain
may be the the pain of taking away from its mother
I feel sorry
Parting is sorrowfull
poem by Slb Pillai
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The Yellow School Bus
The yellow school bus with the black wheels took sick children to school each day.
The yellow school bus with the black wheels was driven whether or not the sky was gray.
The yellow school bus with the black wheels went pass three streets and up a hill.
The yellow school bus with the black wheels was driven whether sunny or chilled.
The yellow school bus with the black wheels always brought a smile to little kids face.
The yellow school bus with the black wheels was filled with love and filled with grace.
The yellow school bus with the black wheels kept breathing until that final breath.
The yellow school bus with the black wheels was painted red with blood and death.
The yellow school bus with the black wheels and the little sick children were all of friends.
But the now dead children will never take a ride in the yellow school bus again.
poem by RaShawn Ince
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The Little Cycle Of The Flower And The Caterpillar
the flower may curse
the caterpillar at first glance
consuming its leaves
greedily
rushing for the next stage
of its life
then the silence of the cocoon
where the flower
doubts
and then the excitement
of the birth
of the yellow butterfly
the hope of the flower
and when
the flying begins
the flower unfolds
blooms
and the consortium begins
the nectar flows
and the flower
turns into another fruit
back
to its seed form
as the butterfly
nears its span
like a glimpse
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Glimpse
the flower may curse
the caterpillar at first glance
consuming its leaves
greedily
rushing for the next stage
of its life
then the silence of the cocoon
where the flower
doubts
and then the excitement
of the birth
of the yellow butterfly
the hope of the flower
and when
the flying begins
the flower unfolds
blooms
and the consortium begins
the nectar flows
and the flower
turns into another fruit
back
to its seed form
as the butterfly
nears its span
like a glimpse
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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