The sun is rising so high and if she could,
She would plant sunflower seeds,
On every inch of her body,
So that one day,
She would become so beautiful,
Standing still with her strong petals,
Her face drinking in sunshine,
Through its rays of light,
Giving hope to everyone,
Especially with the way her eyes
Says hello when she smiles,
Completely clothed with passion and strength,
Laughing without fearing,
About what tomorrow may bring.

She also knows that one day,
Her stems will become soggy,
With fading leaves and falling seeds,
But the sun will silently tell her:
"Hold you down there my dear sunflower,
Please breathe because if that day comes,
You could be a dead flower for a bookmark,
For you can slowly glance up from the page,
And could still bring hope like you always do."

jatmxx

Let me focus on you.
Solely on you.
Not because they withered.
But because on top of all,
You're the one that truly matters.
Your somber death were like these unlit sunflowers,
As if they're joining the sun as it sets,
And hand over a silver lining for the next morn to come.

Ah, sunflower and sunset — these two have always been my favorites.
Both can be as bright as the sun that shines through my fingers,
As I cover my face because of dismay,
I know that even in times when I badly want to see and touch them but couldn't,
Nothing has changed.

Just because something did not turn out the way it should be, something has changed maybe,
Doesn't mean they are not what they used to be right?
Everything needs a break, everything has its end.
But for every ending is another opportunity to begin with.
And that can always be a start of something new,
something beyond what can superficially be seen.
So for this time, let me see and shout your name again..
because maybe that's just what I need, to genuinely listen.

In a dream a spider swallows a snake and
smiles
like  a
giant yellow sunflower being  kissed   by
                                                                ­ bees
                                                            ­     who
dance  wildly  with the  wind  as  it  turns
white
with
anticipation.   The  snake  charmer   plays
                                                           ­         his
                                                    ­              tune.
The  spider  dances,  rising up,  stretching,
elongating.
Her  legs
disappear, drawing   into  her  body where
                                                           ­         they
                                                   ­                 turn
into a flickering tongue that protrudes from
her
lips.
She wriggles in her dance; her tongue waves
                                                           ­         in the
                                                             ­       air to
the melody, begins  to sing a  sultry,  hissing
song.
Then
the charmer's flute begins to move, undulating
                                                      ­                  to her
                                                             ­           song's
cadence.   And the charmer is himself charmed.
He
sits
in a trance as his snake-flute wraps itself around
                                                          ­                    him
                                         ­                                     and
the  spider  looking  li­ke a  snake swallows them
both.

On the claw of daybreak is a bridge, they say
     that extends to an everlasting sunrise foray,

     where every morning glory is at the cliff—
     whether they're climbing or descending is a riff—

     of muddied quagmires where a slew
     of sunflowers that on the talons of radiance either died or grew.

Do you know
Can you see
Would you hear,
would you take the time
I feel so weak,but I must hide
because if I open the vault
you would turn and run
you couldn't handle it,could you?
Yearning to be me
longing to be embraced for my feelings,my words
Remove the mask for good and be loved for my spirit
I have something beautiful to give
be patient and I will reveal it to you
just give me a chance
Give me a chance,I am more than smoke in a mirror
dew in the grass
wind through the sunflower
I can be more than the sunflower

One day a bee
Was flying happily
By a meadow curiously
He saw a sunflower
Shone brightly

Bewitched he flew closer
To the beautiful splendor
Of which was simply was
An elegant little flower

They chatted all day
With no obstacles in their way
Until night came
Then everything changed

The peculiar flower had to go
But with no goodbye to go
She just closed up where she was
And not a single stop or pause

Sadly, the bee left
Leaving the flower he just met
Thinking to himself that time
I'll try harder next time