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Sarafæl Sep 2022
My Iris died today
Her petals fell and blew away
Under the moon I lay and weep
Holding tight to the memories I keep
Eloisa Jun 2022
Like Japanese iris,
she shines with raindrops in the sun.
A blossoming grace in silence.
A new butterfly in flight.
Heidi Franke May 2022
I will stay for today

Tomorrow has me

I know not where I go, hence

I hope for splendor

And the spark off a

sparrows wing.
snipes Jun 2021
A star died in my eyes
A black hole in my iris
A light I thought I shined
Instead casts hazard alert signs

My horizon is lack lustered
The fall is an everlasting lost
I want to believe these eventful dreams
Are preparing me for the relative of death
Or maybe to rest on a point of no return
Such as my eyes looking too the past
As the iris collapses

These thoughts are micro
Yet weigh on me heavy
My eyes engulf aglow
Yet dream only sightly
Rupert Pip Jun 2021
Looking down at you
looking up at me
I see the whole world
glistening in your
wild, wild eyes.
Love is in the eyes.
Cox Sep 2020
I love watching Spring bloom in the reflection of your eyes.
Safana Sep 2020
A white flower
wearing an eyeglass,
her eyelash rolled
Like calla lily,
her bright beautiful
sciera looks glassy
like, brown iris and
chocolate pupil rouned,
Stood up
her face
Brighten the Android
phone is softly touching,
when Funda closed the
shop door, she turn
her face to me
and she said
a beautiful flower
sundial iris Oct 2020
Love is

a good thing

when frosted coated with

passionate kisses.

Without them kisses,

it’s like kissing your parents

on the


meaningful but not pleasurable
sundial iris Aug 2020

~for Sally~

there is no escaping it.

to write of subtle,

one must be blunt,



write with no subtlety.

there is no way, impossible, to capture the fine single threads required
to weave a tapestry of bold and delicate intertwined, of depth and
surface, of a droplet of water shining outstanding in a sea of harsh

there is bold, there is pale. they can coexist, perhaps even
heighten each other.

but subtle is a delicacy, a single thread, a standard rarely achieved.

which is why this poem makes no pretense at subtlety.

Aug 21~22
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