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he cuts roses to
feel the rain.

Mother’s Day.

a downpour in the garden
he tilts the stems
to sever them
from the root.
he tilts the stems
to drink in
a little more.
Do you want to smell the Flowers

Be in the moments of each day

Receive beauty life offers

And experience your own bouquet



Where do you draw in such fragrance

In a World of many concerns

Simply search your heart My Friend

Look beyond the twists of fern



As the hedge that surrounds Your Sanctuary

Grows a little out of control

Then prune it back carefully

Your Flower needs to be on show



To other beautiful Flowers

That bloom all around

Grateful for Inspiration

In fertile ground!



(c) Debra Lea Ryan, 1st Draft:19/11/06

Edit- 05/03/09 & 05/04/09
M H John Mar 7
last night while sleeping
beneath the cosmic’s silver rays
a moon flower began blooming
slowly unfurling
the daze my mind is in these days
As fragrant whispers fill the air
I wander through a world of dreams
Where time stands still and all worries cease

I ask myself
“Why can’t life always be this pretty?”

Walking through my moonlit garden
of the rage that waters my inner peace
I am quickly reminded

Of how someone like me
Can only enjoy the beauty of life
And acceptance of reality
In my sleep



-M.H. John
Hello all, if you’re reading this little message I’d like to share that I’ve created my own personal poetry/journaling website - mhjohnpoetry.com
Bea Rae Feb 9
Withered and broken

I long to be the flower

Blossoming with ease
I saw Heaven hanging over my head like a chandelier, it's
angels were swimming in the light, whispering sweet hymns,—
in a kaleidoscope filled with broken dreams.
The gates fell open like a strand of hair, trumpets were blaring for kings, with thrones like rocking chairs, of my ancestors and their heirs. On earth, I had cattle trodding around my heart to pay for love; as dowry couldn't pay enough for who I once loved.
I drank the tears of Heaven's rains, to tie my tithes wrapped
around my neck; waiting for their fortunes reigns.

I kissed an angel that melted my lips, and had suckled on the ******* of mother nature, who fed me milk and honey to keep me alive. I danced around the edge of an end, where life begins once again. My toes felt cold as a tear drop lost in snow,— my ears were ringing like the church carillon, calling me to repent.
And from the stained glass window frames, it all immediately painted out my pain.

I thought of you, just before I took my last breath, begging the favours from the mistress of Death. I felt like a flower in your hand; each petal being picked away, asking the question of,
"does she love me or love me not." I thought of being holy enough to fit in your heart, but I was as holey as the holes in my socks. My prayers all stunk of the lie behind them all. I looked into your eyes to see heaven inside, as I was living in the world.
I bit on time to have it for seconds, and served a dish of revenge only in my heart,— I was taught it will always be a cold meal; so
I'd use my spark of love to keep it warm. I shared stories with
the world, told my biggest secrets to the sky, and left
breadcrumbs to them, in every word of my poems.

Still...in the chaos of my mind, lied a still river flowing with worth. Drowning myself in your eyes, as your every tear was the inspiration of what became our story. But I know in the end, our love will just be another person's story...
Nyx Jan 9
Honeysuckles blooming
In the harsh summer heat
Luring the butterflies near
All eager to eat

Honey-like nectar
An alluringly tender treat
I wonder if those lips will taste
As irresistibly sweet

Vines creeping and trailing
Covering me from head to toe
lacing into the divets of my skin
Choking me slow

A beading drop of honey
Gliding gently on my tongue
Soft fragrance lingers
All from when we were young

He is entangled in my soul
Just a taste
My Dear Poet Nov 2023
She wasn’t everything she wanted
so in her soul she moulded
a figure of someone else

Till her inner being went bleeding
along a lonely road of longing  
yearning for herself

Then there came along a flower
from an Ivy **** upon a tower
that wove her name with love

and upon this sight and seeing
it’s beauty won her heart and healing
“If that’s me, then me is enough”.
It’s been awhile. I hope you enjoy.
The little
flower was
content,
safe from
the winds
of the world,
then, the days
sprouted her
body upwards
to the sky,
she found
it tiresome
to grow while
the poet
of the world
painted the
leaves
golden
to green,
finally, she
can gently
sing for the
clouds as
life became
greater in
color and
beauty,
until the
white blanket
of heaven
takes her,
and, she
is reborn
in some
other time
and place.
Lily Priest Nov 2023
Her heart could heal
the heather,
Even in the colder weather's grip -
snapping the bony, brittle twigs
And sparkling sharply on abandoned leaves -
She could find her ease
On the downy carpet of the diseased,
Gather their lost limbs
Like a forgiveness-
That warm welcome of forget.
She could rest her head,
And bloom,
Bright blossom gazing up at the moon
More often than the sun,
Her fire blazing on -
A little hearth, among the heather
Warming roots in the
Colder months.
Kyla Nov 2023
She was a bright red rose in the field of dandelions
Reminding me there is no need for compliance
The shimmer of her petals drew people from afar
They shinned brighter than any evening star
For a ***** on the finger left them in fear
Why was she like this?
All alone
So afraid
That is when I got brave and came to her aid
Only to find she needed no upgrade
She was bright
She was brave
She was light
She forgave
And no one could take that away
She was a bright red rose in the field of dandelions
Reminding me there really is no need for compliance
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