I was a flower with no petals
           but still you saw deeper.

Knowing one day I would blossom.

You were every drop that watered me,
      every ray of luminosity
                            that gazed upon me.

You saw the potential of a flower
                           with no petals..
And knew that given time everything

frankie Oct 29

weeds now fill the space in my heart where roses once bloomed
the bees no longer give me honey, all the sunflowers that gre from my mind
exterminated by your pesticide
my iris eyes are now petaless, they've all been cried

you killed the flower garden
i am now a wasteland of wilted weeds and broken memories.

he held the flower in his hands admired its beauty and scent
realizing it was the one for him he plucked it calling it his own
not knowing each petal combined made the beauty he admired
so he plucked one by one till there was nothing left for him
the beauty was no longer there in his eyes the once beautiful flower was no longer valued and thrown out while he admired another to his liking

holding on to the flower so much it becomes bruised and wilted at the ends
plucking the petals leaving them to fall and rot on the floor tossing what remains as garbage repeating your ways on the next "beauty" you seek

Pretty flower,
So much deeper than all them flowers.

Sweet nectar, need a taste from that cookie jar.

Open up when the sun shine
The glitters reflect of the petals, shine

And when the moon light shines
And waves of your ocean align,

We would dive deep and cause a shock wave,

And ride them till the moon light goes away

Cné Apr 20

slipping in her wet painted petal
bitten by the sting of his bee
her first time, he fumbles being gentle
excitement dancing in his driving need

instinctively possessed
arcing her hips experimentally
his maleness sweetly carressed
teasing his need, tremendously

each submersion in her sweetness
peaking waves swelling in her breast
entwining rhythmic explosiveness  
pulsating gush, plunging over the crest

Metaphorically speaking... lol
Ashlea Mar 23

I am a flower.
Hard to handle
At times
Because of my thorns.
However, I am strong,
I can grow, and
I’m beautiful

Lady Bird Feb 3

sturdy stem of throns
a fragile soul grow
strung like barbwire
withering very slow

soft to the touch
older day by day
no longer admired
perfume fading away

folding over in sorrow
petals they slowly fade
from the dying rose
losing beauty it has made

last petal crumbles
dusting Earth's floor
for the dying rose
happiness is no more

Eleanor Rigby Nov 2016

I am my flower's little one
The petals of she float
Reflect the silver lining
Of a lonely moon.

I am this flower's soft breeze
The petals of she shiver and shrink
Fly in the air
And go back to God

She goes back to God
And never to me.

-- Eleanor Rigby

Porto Oct 2016

Fragile creature
Deeply steeped in bags
Of bold red and blue
Black, from lack of sleep
And painful, from want of hope

With cups that help me hear
And lines that make me smile
Social being socializes
And dying beings help the night sparkle.

While I tone, phone
Bring my lofty thoughts
Or else hatred
May be my opium

What can I say,
To rocks picked up by you
Can't I be collected, listened to
Hoped for like those others?

I hope so, I elope for that idea
And I cope, grow forth
Bashful plants turned brash
And flowering with colours not yet seen

Not yet considered by rocks or man

I am a petal.

Emma Hill Sep 2016

Grey clouds gather plump and perfect above my crown
   A moment of silence held sacred by the birds
   A moment to settle before I am washed away

Rainfall rolls soft and supple from our mother sky
   With gentle thanks do the leaves cup the sweet nectar
   With ancient thirst the soil drinks her in

Dirt darkens wet and washed within our mother earth
   Eyes open and breath rolls slow and low like thunder
   Eyes close and senses gather up her scent

Full flowers sway sweetly beneath a rockabye breeze
   Petals dance gracefully to the beat of each drip drop drop
   Petals lace their fingers together and bow in prayer

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