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Alyssa Underwood Jul 2016
child of heart
but not of ****,
would i'd been
gifted to ban the
hope-thieving,
spirit-throwing
parasitic lies,
to shelter ears
& fragile petals
against bruising,
whiskey-glazed
acts and words.
would i might be
gifted now to
soothe, cradling
tender soul through
deadest night's
watery gloom.
yet firmly i know
none other will ever
be gifted to bestow
what only One balm
can perfectly renew,
and He waits for you,
my beautiful girl.
Bryan Lunsford May 2018
With rose petals at the floor of your feet and with candles lit lighting up our scenery,
I know I've never felt more complete than I do right now (with you here with me)

For you are my perfect symphony,
As here, I watch our hearts carry the beat,
(In the midst of our bodies producing this heat)
And I lay you down–where our hearts melt degree by degree,
Making love to you, there, delicately and ever so sweet
x Jul 2018
he called me
his sunflower
when he said that
my petals never shined brighter
Cné Mar 2016
Mentally beginning anew,
Shower and storms scramble,
A mind, a mess, stuck in the cold of blue,
Writhing in pain without preamble.

A season after the cries of winter,
The tears of petals shed,
Flows hope once more enter
Where a broken heart bleed.

Relief of breath ooze,
As fragile blooms of forgiveness peek,
Through darken days of self abuse,
To nurture the delicate emotional physique,

Healing in time blind,
Pure instinct survives,
An emotional breakdown of the mind.
Until finally, awaken spring arrives.
In winter, depression manages to take its strong grip on me, almost strangling me. Spring is a breath of fresh air to my mind, with its negative inner voice.
SøułSurvivør Mar 2015
~.~.~.~


floating
on the breeze
swirling
in a swoon
laments in
blue and purple
are the
petals of the moon

waned a
crescent of a flower
waxed to
cabbage rose
now the
tight held tithes
sift down
in
airy
floes

lying in the grass
of a dark
wide-open
field
sweet
swanning
petals find me
moon's offerings
revealed

i inhale their
fragrance
their light sweet perfume
they cover me
with kisses

the
petals
of
the
moon
soulsurvivor
(c) 2014
rewritten
(c) march 12, 2015

Dedicated to my dear friend Jonnie... she makes me happy!

This is one of my most popular & beloved poems, my dear! I hope you enjoyed it!

God Bless & Happy Thanksgiving!
Aditi Jan 2018
My petals were withering,
The butterflies turned into wasps.
An oppressive silence-
Weighing down on my conscience
And the fingertips - used to drawing sunrises
-compelled  to write eulogies instead.
Of Chapped lips and vacant eyes.
And how the autumn had caught up to us.


And I remembered,
With an aching guilt-
How I had not even played in the rain,
Not much, not at all.

My words had rusted,
My voice- cracked, and unfamiliar
Even to my own ears.
The summer long poems that I wrote in love
Were set ablaze,
To help me survive a winter
without you.
Oh, when I said our love would keep us warm
This is not exactly how i had it planned.

And you did not get to read even a word.
One always thinks they have time.
But we did not.
Not then, and definitely not now.

As a child, I grew up wanting a lot from myself
-even the world, if I were to be honest.
Somewhere along the line,
All I wanted was for this all to not hurt.
And somehow the polar opposites are more alike
Than I'd have thought.
'Cause you see, people who want a bit of everything
Are very close to wanting nothing in particular, not much.

And I wish I had learnt to differentiate
Of when to sharpen my sword and when to use my pen
Cause now I'm down to my last petal
And all you have is a blue splotch on your shirt.
Heath Leonard Aug 2013
Gazes fall to flowers in bloom,
they drift in wind, perform for all eyes,
happy to please without words.
Magnificent are the colors seen,
dancing across lines of sight,
confident in their shimmering beauty.
As time goes by, so does life,
weathering storms, horrid drought,
till all that's left are shredded weeds.
Delicate petals on a center death bed,
no winds to sway, no colors to flare,
unable to draw a single gasp.
Light blue fades to weary grey,
shriveled stem reaching for someone, anyone,
before finally giving up.
Forget-me-nots are quite ironic,
for everyone forgets petals when they fall;
They always do.
Diamond Flame May 2017
From her soft, fair skin
To her messy, curly hair.
Her soft, kind smile and
Her thin figure..
They all saw her as gentle beauty.
They don't know, do they?
They don't know that her scars don't come from her favorite rose bush.
They don't know how much she hates her "adorable" freckles.
They don't know that when she looks down at her body, she sees an elephant.
They don't know that she has never nor will she ever see herself as beautiful.
She doesn't understand what they see.
She doesn't understand what he sees.
You all have the story wrong.
She didn't fall in love with a beast.
The beasts were in her mind.
Beauty was killed by her beasts..
And no one could see behind her bright smile.
Kevin J Taylor Feb 2016
Sunflowers! Crowns golden!
Violets! Sweet petals, blue!
Carnations! Pinks! Whites!
         —And my Love for You!

Dahlias! Such beauty!
Tulips! Who knew!
Orchids! Red roses!
         —And my Love for You!
.
Timur Shamatov Aug 2018
Like rose petals in a wind
Souls caught in a whirlwind
I feel your body collide with mine
Friction of your lips on mine
Sweet as honey
I can taste the essence of your soul
In a crazy spin we lose control
Slipping in too deep
Swept up - flying high
Like asteroids colliding, exploding
In a passion burning bright
With you in love I wanna be
I won’t be made to fear
In love with you I wanna disappear
Yuki Jan 27
I have been blessed with
a rose of blue petals
upon which I could read:
I will wait for you
‘till the end of time
on the other side of the world
to admire the most beautiful
northern lights
that are nothing compared
to the blue of your eyes.
I remember that day
Sitting by the river
in your arms

The petals from the cherry blossom tree
fell into the flowing water

You made a promise that you will never let me go
Even when raindrops fall in my soul
Even when the storms stir my sea
You will never let me go
You will guide me to the rainbow
And the sweet smell after the rain
This was your petrichor petal promise

Then that day
When raindrops fell down in my soul
You left me alone...
And broke your petrichor petal promise



Now I sit by the same old river
that has the same flowing water
and the same cherry blossoms
But I was not in your arms

I then made my own
petrichor petal promises

That I won't fall so easily
Like the petals of the cherry blossom tree
I will continue to flow
Even when raindrops fall
I will guide myself to the rainbow
And the sweet smell of rain after the storm
The petrichor after the sorrow

These are my petrichor petal promises
to myself
Petrichor: The sweet smell after rain...Day 5 of the month long poetry challenge
js Nov 2018
It withers

near a bare
tree,

under skies
filled with
gray.

It withers

with tired petals
amid dullness, and

rain.

I see it wither

here.

I see what

remains.

Poor haggard

thing

with no place to
go.

I see it wither here

without
ever seeing
it

grow.
Alyssa Underwood Apr 2017
Might there be a fountain
where souls long dead from thirst
find spirits raised to life in floods abounding free,
so that what once walked as corpse,
night-bound and blind, may see?
Old self exchanged for Treasure, diving in
tastes such rejuvenation as can't
be weighed by mortal measure—
wine unlike our earth-grown fruit whose petals fall,
from this Vine flowers the pleasantness of Love Divine
which bathes in healing waters all
who come as humble newborn with bold **** to dine.
"Jesus answered, 'Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give him will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.'"  John 4:13-14

"Then Jesus declared, 'I am the bread of life. He who comes to Me will never go hungry, and he who believes in Me will never be thirsty.'"  John 6:35

"On the last and greatest day of the Feast, Jesus stood and said in a loud voice, 'If anyone is thirsty, let him come to Me and drink. Whoever believes in Me, as the Scripture has said, streams of living water will flow from within him.'"  John 7:37-38

"'I am the vine; you are the branches. If a man remains in Me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from Me you can do nothing.'"  John 15:5

~~~

Structure inspired by a poem from the journal of Jim Elliot
Remember,
within this
world of
despair,
to once
more
see the
beauty
of the
world,
leave
the sight
of darkness
you have
known for
so long,
and let
your feet
touch the
earth of
paradise,
you are
not the
words
they
create
of you,
hear the
call of
your soul,
and you
will be  
as the
dove
flown
free
from
the iron
cage,
white
wings
floating
as petals
dancing
around
your open
arms,
everything
I could not
tell you,
your heart
will sing to
you, hear
it well,
for it is the
symphony
of your
secret
garden,
where you
are always
loved forever.
Erica Aug 2018
she's your rose
but you turned her white petals
r e d
soaked in her own blood
her pedals ruined because of your words
because of your actions
but she stayed with you because you torture her stem
spraying her with what she thought was water but in fact was
p o i s o n
and one day you grab her wrong and get pricked by her mighty thorns
and after everything
you leave her
with her blood soaked rose petals
and poison stem
Em MacKenzie Sep 2018
Bear with me, I need to gather up the nerve,
to completely shower you with the love that you deserve.
You're thinking how to best throw the ball into a curve,
and I'm sinking, drowning in the words I still reserve.

We're sailing through the air
like rose petals from your hair,
lining the path to a room we can not enter.
We're beautifully torn
but the petals lack the thorn,
but still they ***** me and I bleed;
beauty claims the role of my tormentor.

Live with me, I'm not sure I can do it on my own,
keep me breathing, if you got an extra lung to loan.
I've been seeing stars and speckles in this twilight zone,
this struggle's repeating, look at how damaged I am,
and how quick I've grown.

We're sailing through the air
like rose petals ripped apart bare,
leading us to a door we could never open.
Our connection was born
but the petals lack the thorn,
the ****** and cuts come from all left unspoken.

The bouquet of your skin has dissolved
and the stems stretch further than we admit.
If nothing is started, it can't be resolved,
and I'm holding baby's breath; my stomach a deep pit.

I'm trying to solve a puzzle of invisibility
but my hands are broken and I lack the ability,
to decipher if the hues of grass in the pieces change shade,
if there's a side that's greener or just shadows cast on each blade.

We're sailing through the air
like rose petals without a care,
leading us into a trap we can't escape.
I tried my best to warn
that the petals still had a thorn,
it just seems now that it's a different shape.
Ceyhun Mahi Dec 2018
I gave you petals as presents,
But you just saw a broken rose.
I didn't knew that a cold distance
Was to you so near and close.
Alyssa Underwood May 2016
Might there be a fountain
where souls long dead from thirst
find spirits raised to life in floods abounding free,
so that what once walked as corpse,
night-bound and blind, may see?
Old self exchanged for Treasure, diving in
tastes such rejuvenation as can't
be weighed by mortal measure—
wine unlike our earth-grown fruit whose petals fall,
from this Vine flowers the pleasantness of Love Divine
which bathes in healing waters all
who come as humble newborn with bold **** to dine.
"Jesus answered, 'Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give him will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.'"  John 4:13-14

"Then Jesus declared, 'I am the bread of life. He who comes to Me will never go hungry, and he who believes in Me will never be thirsty.'"  John 6:35

"On the last and greatest day of the Feast, Jesus stood and said in a loud voice, 'If anyone is thirsty, let him come to Me and drink. Whoever believes in Me, as the Scripture has said, streams of living water will flow from within him.'"  John 7:37-38

"'I am the vine; you are the branches. If a man remains in Me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from Me you can do nothing.'"  John 15:5


~~~

Structure inspired by a poem from the journal of Jim Elliot

Repost
shima Oct 2018
soft and gentle
a cashmere sweater
dyed a deep sunset colour
wanting to face the sun, the good
the petals curl inward
still yearning for the light
"smile, my boy, it's almost
sunrise"
to the sunflower boy
Joie Yin Sep 2018
I woke up with an aching heart
Pillow case damped from tears
Tried to sink in words from you
That day you left and gone away
I wandered lost without direction.

It felt like yesterday was an art
The way you smile to your ears
Like painted clouds on the sky so blue
Sillily I pretended like I was okay
Yet I silently longed for your attention.

Suddenly we heard of words that cut
Deep into our feelings that yearns
For a moment being in love so true
I desperately prayed you would stay
That the illness was just an imagination.

Little efforts we both had put
On this flower that bloomed for years
Ended with a silent goodbye from you
Petals fell like my teardrops I ran away
I wasn't ready to forget us and move on.

I shed tears flipping through our booklet
Contained the sweetest dreams of ours
As I began accepting and find closure
I promised to be strong come what may
Until some day we shall meet in heaven.
Joie Yin
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