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"blossum" poems
We are all a garden of sorts. We all spring up from a single seed. And like a flourishing tree or an expanding bush we can branch out and multiply in number and in strength surrounded by tender loving care, being watered by others, paid close attention to as the gardener nurtures us to maturity. We bloom. We blossum. Beauty abounds. Our colors come forth in a harmony of hues upon every petal and every leaf. But then come the weeds that choke out our foliage and wrap around our roots, our foundations. The weeds of hatred, the weeds of bitterness the weeds of loneliness, the weeds of shame, the weeds of fear, and depression invade. Bugs infest our garden and eat away at us, tormenting us, picking away at us, and the beauty and produce that once was the glory of our garden has gone away. Did we do this to ourselves? We often wonder. Did the gardener get too passive, get too neglectul and uncaring and forget to tend the garden? Maybe we were not strong enough to take up the fight, wilting, fading in the sun. Yet even a dying flower produces seeds of growth, and of renewal, as a rebirth will come from its entrance into the earth. Even the most tragic looking of sickly plant life will have a comeback, a resurrection of sorts when golden raindrops do fall again like prayers from the sky. And so it is the gardener was never asleep on the job, did not neglect the duties. And like all healthy ones do abundant food shall grow once again in our garden, fragrant flowers, and branches for the birds to perch upon when at one time all seemed dead and hopeless and lost.
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Nov 26, 2009
Nov 26, 2009 at 12:48 PM UTC
Tending the Garden
We are all a garden of sorts. We all spring up from a single seed. And like a flourishing tree or an expanding bush we can branch out and multiply in number and in strength surrounded by tender loving care, being watered by others, paid close attention to as the gardener nurtures us to maturity. We bloom. We blossum. Beauty abounds. Our colors come forth in a harmony of hues upon every petal and every leaf. But then come the weeds that choke out our foliage and wrap around our roots, our foundations. The weeds of hatred, the weeds of bitterness the weeds of loneliness, the weeds of shame, the weeds of fear, and depression invade. Bugs infest our garden and eat away at us, tormenting us, picking away at us, and the beauty and produce that once was the glory of our garden has gone away. Did we do this to ourselves? We often wonder. Did the gardener get too passive, get too neglectul and uncaring and forget to tend the garden? Maybe we were not strong enough to take up the fight, wilting, fading in the sun. Yet even a dying flower produces seeds of growth, and of renewal, as a rebirth will come from its entrance into the earth. Even the most tragic looking of sickly plant life will have a comeback, a resurrection of sorts when golden raindrops do fall again like prayers from the sky. And so it is the gardener was never asleep on the job, did not neglect the duties. And like all healthy ones do abundant food shall grow once again in our garden, fragrant flowers, and branches for the birds to perch upon when at one time all seemed dead and hopeless and lost.
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76
Once, it was flowers signaling life's great blossum. Now, it is silence!
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Mar 12, 2013
Mar 12, 2013 at 12:10 AM UTC
Silence (Haiku Poem)
i see the vine and pick each grape feel the juice in between my toes i watch the vine slowly grow and see it die each winter but i know spring is near and ill be back out on the fields watching my babies blossum and ill pick each grape and turn into yuppie juice and poor mans fluids that will sooth the tummies and make good conversations that my feet made
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Mar 18, 2013
Mar 18, 2013 at 2:54 AM UTC
wine
It is destructive to let an obstacle consume you, so that it bears its teeth into you, and imbue its venom into you very being. Think of it as a transcendent cherry blossum. It is frivolous to sit and dwell on one blossum, just because it is lacking in areas such as color, shape and size. And to spend all your time trying to amend that blossum, until it is perfected. It is better to leave the blossum be, and go on to another, for perhaps that one is better and more tasteful. But remember that even if that too is found uneasy, there are still more blossums to chose from, and not all will be so horrid.
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Mar 23, 2010
Mar 23, 2010 at 8:09 PM UTC
And to All Their Own
As I watch the people and their selfishness, how could I ever succeed? I have morals and ethics that dwells within me. Silence is the answer when your done speaking on death ears, in my own world where it's how I want it to appear. Years have showed consistency in the ignorance of mankind, I face my fears head to head living life in the nick of time, what is pressure? Only what you make it, I stick to the basics this is fundamental. The words that cast are temporary as if led was from a pencil, I'm perminantly  embedded because my pen in the utensil. Thriving to be mistake free, what a wish, yea ill take three, give two of them away and take one for me. Cause when you plant good seeds they blossum into trees!
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Dec 29, 2014
Dec 29, 2014 at 7:28 PM UTC
Off the top
Love is like a blossum being crushed beneath a careless foot of a running child
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Apr 12, 2019
Apr 12, 2019 at 4:24 AM UTC
Untitled