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Nathalie Jul 19
When a flower grows, you can appreciate its delicate fragrance; the depth of its colours, the intricate marvel of its shape. You know that this flower as grown from a tiny bud and had to go through a process in order to become this gem to admire. Each springtime; the tulips blossom and at the end of their season they retreat until the following spring. Relationships are similar to the change of seasons and flowers. They go through cycles and periods of change, growth and rebirth. We ourselves go through transitions; in which we shed the old to welcome the new, release old fears to welcome new joys, let go of stagnation to embrace our heart’s passions.

ava Nov 2019
Floating on my bed
was hoping for autumn
yet I woke to spring
watched as fields of tulips spread
heads bouncing in the breeze
purple, pink, white
they shied away from my peering eyes

my slick hand held as a hostage
sweat covered in a thick layer,
the grass tickling my fingers
as the shy sun slowly started closing in
it was time to go home
away from my small paradise
it was time to float again.
Cedric Nov 2019
Autumn leaves fall down,
I lay on a bed of withered leaves.
Beside me are tulips,
All in a colorful yellow.
Gaze at a blue rose,
Imaginary and unique,
Longing for peace - love.

Garnering my strength,
I toil to sow my own seeds.
I sink on my bed,
Losing all my colorful fervor.
Becoming one with the Earth I loved,
Attuning  my soul to the flowers.
An acrostic of yellow tulips and blue roses; of death of love
Anastasia Sep 2019
red roses
and tulips
in your hair
on mine
a day
like this
in the air
on my waist
cherry taste
this love
of mine
by crimson twine
blood drips
from tiny ******
sharp thorns
with ruby tips
with all of my being, i love him
Anastasia Jun 2019
roses in my ribs
lilies on my lips
pearls in my pockets
tulips on my tongue
honeysuckles on my heart
tiger flowers on my thighs
marigolds on my mirror
you make me bloom ♥
Logan Robertson May 2019
in the face of spring~
tulips eye the first rain drop~
ahead of sunshine~

Logan Robertson

Jenny Gordon Mar 2019
...whence?  I know, I know, you've the florist's packet of preservative mixt for your cut flowrs don't you?  Good luck.  


Lo, tulip capes so thickly clustered they'll
Ne'er blossom, like sardines is it from hence?
Wait greenly by the back stoop for a sense
Of April in the wings.  And jonquils' hale
Green tendrils wait likewise for that detail
I guess, as maids whose innocent suspense
We fail to notice, full of vain pretense'
Auld lies as if such might at last avail.
Girls have been known as flowrs, since oh, in tour
God's Scriptures told us that, I spose.  Aye, do
Men ink laments of this or that as twere
It's thus:  "...her virgins, pure, deflowrd--" they knew.
These latter days we are taught lies, (in poor
'Scuse know by instinct) and cut flowrs down too.

*NOTE:  googling Wordsworth's invocation and tribute to heady "jonquils" supposedly they're our daffodils.  That two-beat term was more useful and etc. in L4. Ls 11-12:  I can't recall whose line and sonnet that is.
m h John Jan 2019
I walked through
The garden yesterday
And be-headed
The tops of daisy’s
After they repeatedly
called out your name.
I passed by the tulips
And cried with them
Understanding their pain,
I sat by the lilacs
And watched them stare
As they said
Their finally goodbyes.
I passed by the roses
and watched them bloom
And I remembered the time
When the thorns told me
That only roses
Bloom for you
I hope you find the one flower in your bouquet that lasts forever
Both can ****
        The only difference is
                      Cigarettes shatter lungs
         She shatters everything

            I remembered the first moment
my lips pressed the filter
     as I lit it up breathed it all
                savored every smoke
       as if we covered up painful lies
        in a container of painkillers

The same way  
we used to pressed our lips
     sparked something between us
           savored every moment we had
    as if our love was a rose
               in a valley of tulips
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