The night is young,
the night is ours.
Hand in hand,
we'll steal the stars
and all the lonely sunflowers
with no sun to face.
xanthic petaled pedestal-
penny for your thoughts
10/6/2019 - Poetry form: Haiku - I saw a ladybird/ladybug sitting on a bright yellow sunflower. She sat so still for so long I couldn't help wondering what she might be thinking! Copyright © Mark Toney | Year Posted 2019
a sunflower smile
on this windy sunny day
with hope of some rain
A single sunflower
Its brothers and sisters have withered away
But it continues to rise and grow
And when the time comes, it shall bloom and turn its head to the sky
To follow the sun.
Who am I in the eyes of most people;
A flower, something more dour?
In my eyes you are a flower.
You've always been a flower,
maybe a sunset.
You are my sunflower.
Just like sunflower,
you followed him
just like they followed the sun.
I once killed a sunflower
by giving it too much water
and I read somewhere that that was beautiful,
because it meant I didn't know when
to stop giving.
But tell me,
where is the beauty
if the end result was death?
flowers are so, so lovely
and so, so mortal
sand drifts down deserted beach
leaves float off once vibrant trees
lashes left untouched on cheek
curtains shut the bright sun bleak
endless hours of midnight sound
bruised knuckles on dark wood pound
sound of sheets sigh on mattress
second-hands strike drum and miss
misspelled words, soft spoken steps
lonely rose, the last one left
no air in two burning lungs
dead garland on mantle hung
dust dances for aimless wind
sunflowers to ashes bend
salt vacates a brackish sea
empty woods hold silent plea
never-ending days to come
deeper nights, but brighter sun
you should see the way the
sunflowers swivel to stare at you;
your shadow outshines the sun.
you walk through beehives and
emerge dripping in honey.
haven't you noticed the
sparrow on your windowsill; she
sings her sweet song
solely for your sake,
and the wildflowers that
blossom in your footprints
and the wavelets that ripple
from your words —
don't you hear your name beneath the
rustling of the leaves and the
crackling of the fire and the
whistling of the wind?
if nature marvels at the
magnificent masterpiece you are, then
so should you
She was different than the rest, A Sunflower facing the moon.
Trying to grow taller than the rest, to have a voice in a windless field, to be what she is meant to be, when everyone is just the same.
Her roots were the strongest but she was the weakest
How can you blame her when she is just a sunflower facing the moon.
A wild wind took her off, now she is lonley like never before.
All she wanted was to be heard but she was just a sunflower facing the moon.