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The sun disappears much, much later, an hour later to be exact.
This translates into having more daylight and a longer afternoon,
To watch the strolling peacocks in the park, and to have more fun
Admiring the baby bulbs metamorphosing into flowers at night.

The lily flowers are most of the time ephemeral, lasting hours,
Rarely a few days before changing into leaves, which eventually
Will be dried up by the warm air or the rays of the sun. Beauty
Is temporary, so enjoy the spring season and the summer flowers.

I have vivid memories of the shedding cherry tree, which brought
The beauty of spring in front of my house in the dead-end street.
Oh! I miss the atypical moment, when the green lawn was not neat.

Sometimes, the entire top of the hill was littered with falling flowers.
It was strange to sniff the unusual scent of the weather-beaten petals.
Oh! I miss the hours sitting on top of the window like a distraught cat.

Copyright © March 2020, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
Abi Winder Sep 14
when did the flowers
start demanding blood
instead of water?

when did life
start demanding thorns
instead of petals?
Heidi Franke Jun 16
Time bequeaths a tune
Folding like fading petals
Butterfly breezed by
Noting yellow roses faded petals leaving life and a butterfly breezed by for a bite
Malia Mar 4
Hello yellow
Daffodil, as you scatter
Like the sun.
I see you spread
Your daylight ‘round
But still, your petals
Fall to the ground,
And I think to myself,
“I wish I were you,
I wish I were you but happy.”
we all have that person don’t we
Heidi Franke Sep 2023
One more before I go.
Into the wilderness of parts and dreams. A happy send off in the cool morning.

I will be back in a new form perhaps, a more rounded crown of a tree, after years of pruning.
A "wild and precious life" with untold horrors, spoken dreams, and wandering caravans of thought.

In yellow abodes loving kindness which is yours. Maybe it will seep in like a root gives to it's leaves. Traveling through twisted currents. It's fragile rose petals. Short lived. But remembered.
It's almost mid September and the Julia Child rose bush pushes out it's last rose for this year. A year of waiting, trauma, wandering untethered.
I S A A C Jul 2023
stifled in this house of mirrors
thought my promised love was here
my flaws become all too clear
critical seeds deposited deep
i can see them blossom here
rose petals, swollen fruits
but no pair in this house of mirrors
cracked the case, racked my brain
all this data, i need to leave it
in this house of mirrors my confidence is decaying
my ego grows tired, i lean into yoga
realize my ego’s expired, my old life is over
my stability is fading
in this house of mirrors i saw possibilities
in this house of mirrors i saw atrocities
in the shadows of ambiguity, i almost lost me
balancing beam, shattering dreams
warped perception, endless maze
biological embrace, removal of societal shame
this house of mirrors lives with me today
leeaaun Jun 2023
there was a time
when we walked around
in the spring

when you picked flowers
to put in my basket
while i wanted to fill yours

just like that our love grew
too much,
that baskets couldn't hold em'

i thought that was a good sign about love
but who knew
unlike the birds who fly freely

those flowers will lose petals
instead of going with the flow of wind
they fall down on the ground

reminding us of autumn
every spring lover has to face it
but we couldn't

i wish now
what it would have been like
if we knew

being a spring lover is not easy
we have to go through every autumn
after every spring

a cycle that love will repeat
I see
the roses
in you, the
delicate
petals of
of being
human,
the thorns
of us have
broken
the chains,
our feathers
glide when
darkness
once
wished
to down
the soar
of our
wings,
feathers
glide from
loud howls,
floating
up to the
place we
call as
truth.
We look
upon the
the flowers,
thinking,
“I was once
you, before
my eyes
were known
to your
bloom”
the wind is
lifting the
petals
gently as
wanderers
of the sea,
the night
falls,
us and
them
are as
blinking
stars,
floating
almost
endlessly,
unaware
of the
lights
we give,
and yet,
unwavering.
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