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Glenn Currier Jun 15
There is an old hymn
this world is not my home
an old friend freely sings
its lyrics but she’s lonesome
never full of joy in her place
ready to depart
but a strong heart keeps her here
for us to talk
and laugh this year
not last or next but now
with both cheer and tears
in our eyes
and on our cheeks.
We’re not waiting.
In this long float
we can smell the fragrance of aster
not before or after
but blooming in our spring
upon this glorious encircling stream.
Sometimes,
I want to tell you about the night cold
and my cigarette lit on my right hand
and a poem that describes everything
I see the day I pass,
and the sad song
and dim light on my eyes
and your eyes will see me from the screen on your phone
and that melody of a night owl
and the moon
and the wind
and the last breath your fragrance clothes on my jacket
and your lips hanging out my rose
I gave you.
Indonesia, 16th March 2022
Arif Aditya Abyan Nugroho
Hussein Dekmak Oct 2021
At the crack of a new dawn,
I opened the window of my heart and invited:
Love to shelter,
Fragrance of flowers to diffuse,
A spring of hope to bloom,
Blue butterflies to dance,
Nightingale birds to sing,
And nature to chant with her silent language!

Hussein Dekmak
Raven Feels Aug 2021
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, memory loss is impossible to the sense of smell:)

ancient perfume box
left somewhere in a classic loft
opened moments in a meet
to an old of an old sweet
memory in a tape on a leash in fear
like a flashback of brief to four years
disclose the good not the sad
never the bad
already made sure to wear
on the days of happy in mere
and now the odor
smells a swift of colors
once in each while
go back a little in miles
a tickle to the nose
something out of Beethoven's ears
souvenirs the precious chandeliers
things the mind randomly chose
several pasts when my pen couldn't write
and the piano served a beam of light
in an ocean
sinking deep with no motion
escapes
from each New Year's mistake
for the lifetime spaces
of the turn from the tackling faces
pink floral promises
of better opposites
fragranced to keep a stay
afraid a glass would slip away

                                                               ­                  ------ravenfeels
Reh Jul 2021
Come lay with me for hours.
So we can talk thousands of nothings
while it means millions of somethings;
To stay at the place where our heart becomes one.
Where moments last forever
Where the rhythm goes on
Where the wind is restless
Where the fragrance lingers on.
My Dear Poet Jun 2021
Every flower has a name
till you became the fragrance
that named every flower
I smell
Spriha Kant Jun 2021
This heart, if like a flower provides fragrance to others
Then it also tramples the love for those and memories of those who ***** it with their thorns
As this heart isn't made of flowers.

©Spriha Kant
Sneha shenoy Jun 2021
Arnt you my most beautiful Jasmine?
Tell me when did you cast ur spell on me
I am enraptured in your fragrance
Heavens wouldn’t smell that way I swear
Fair as snow flake, Smooth as silk
Your lips are like honey dew
Like drop of water on the bud
Oh my Jasmine, only if other flowers knew
How fragrant you are
I’m sure they they would be envious
I’m waiting for you to bloom my Jasmine !
Once again I fell in the deepest pit
I can merely fathom the depth  
I don’t wanna rise,It’s a beautiful dream
The pit of my love
filled with infinite happiness ! Muah..
Aye My beautiful Jasmine,
Your Aura enraptured my soul ❤️
- *Rose
Hamna Apr 2021
Is there something that can lift my bitterness away?
Can it free me of my lingering wrath?
Or help my throbbing heart to laugh?
Or empty my mind of loathsome?
Evaporating the wholesome grief I had swallowed in my hippocampus.
Yet,
God has granted this gift to our hearts.
So,
Why don't we perceive life as bliss?
Oh, Flourishing Forgiveness!
How I longed to taste your fragrance!
To obscure my grief-stricken heart with your warm radiance.
Enter the teary eyes, O Forgiveness, with your gleaming light!
Heal the grudges that make our lives tight.
Help us flip the decrepit pages.
And abandon our grimaces.
‘Whoever severs ties with you, approach him with good conduct. Whoever deprives you, give to him, and whoever wrongs you, forgive him. ’ -Prophet Muhammad صلي الله عليه وسلم
Simon Apr 2021
Everyone is just another flower at heart....
After all, being another flower from everyone else, gives you the most pleasurable specifics in the right place...when you only feel tolerated enough to advance your very cause into the next adventure (that is truly within the smell of the pollen that perfumes the petal like a fragrance that isn't tolerated in it's own self properly). Even when truthfully...it's all about the smell that directs that very such advancing cause forward into the next district of measurable causes (when and only when), you have become finally advanced enough to truly (now and forevermore) surpass the very self (that you once were, only just a few seconds ago, depending on a flowers perception of time itself). Then forecasts it's own weighing measures into even (the next distract of measurable causes) that combines together an even more stronger fragrance that balances correctly, (when and only when) things truly become one with one another.
In any case, those very pleasurable specifics become the very documentary of a flower becoming just... "Another flower."
But is such terms or pleasant metaphors enough for this very emotional written appeals the very abstract piece one is even wanting to read, or even take the time to truly focus on (by concentration, alone)?
Flowers at the end of the day, don't mask their own intentions (when their own petals start falling, because of aging regrets).
It's more of the very already (possible) defining examples that don't let the petals (with emotional appealing problems) that just don't know how to show themselves, properly. After all, when petals fall from a flower, it's probably because they have yet to show their own hidden beauty.
In essence, when you shed the petals, it isn't of the very cause for when seasons change and flowers go to sleep, or end their own lifecycle with the changing of seasonal tides, or even potentially becoming plucked clean by an enforcer at large who see's flowers ugly (because they see themselves as nothing but useless opportunities at large)!
Regardless, when another flower does this, it's because the very first impression comes off as the obvious spectacle of someone hiding their own shame away, for the oncoming tide of self-insecurities that don't give them the very such "open-minded" source needed for the very availability of shooting forward and simply coming out for being who you want too be....
And that is not of just being another flower... But more the result of a flower changing her own ins and outs for being the very tolerant of their own attitude and behavioral willpower at large.
Whatever happens, nothing can prepare (for what just another flower truly is), is for them to be in the very safe regarding hands of their own potentially past self-ridiculing of oneself.
When and only when, those very petals that you have spread your own fragrance (in the form of beautiful pheromones).
Those very same petals will begin again.
Reattaching itself, accordingly.
And then reversing time (as if looking back at a film roll of many sequence of events) that may help you into reversing your own perspective (with time, that is).
In the end, what you really thought was a big deal (once...) Became the very maneuvering ability where you are now ready to begin re-growing those fragile, (yet strong willed) petals at heart.
This is entirely dedicated to someone who (while only talking with them for only for a few moments in time...) They have in a very mutual respect I now have for them and for their own work, (as by how they have completely reflecting on mine in such a positive sense). I want to truly dedicate them with this poem. :)
Everyone who views this, check out "Just Another Flower's" channel.
You won't be disappointed. Thanks!
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