Roses | Mónika Tóth
facing
all directions …
red roses
flowers poems
Dreams of Bees | Sadia Mehmood Qurashi
New born beauty,
Having natural blush!
Two in a row,
Seem so fresh!
Apart from the noise,
Here they bloom!
Singing morrow melodies,
Having no room!
O frowny sun!
Let not thy beams!
Touch the beauty hard!
It’s in bees’ dreams!
Hot Lunch Plus a Wow | J. D. Nelson
a chalky stew
the hungry stare
yellow is a while
the news is blurry
layers of chocolate sauce and fiberglas insulation
we ate the flowers and they were delicious
and now we are floating above the city in a bubble
once I was a hen using magic
an onion kiss from the cook
More at http://www.madverse.com/.
Sunlit Garden Path | Mary Bone
A sunlit garden path,
with roses in full bloom.
The aroma is heavenly.
It is a great place to relax
and smell the flowers.
At First Blush | Mary Bone
Flowers in a secret garden,
at first blush-cheeks
the color of a fine rosé wine.
Of Love and Other Demons! | Deepti Sharma
In the diagonal hour of the midnight
that morphed into
a tattoo on her back..
I saw a purple rainbow
that faded as the dawn cracked.
The winding trails
that crawled to her..
immersed in the holy water.
Either my resin hard dreams were to be baptised..
or the misty reality was to be slaughtered.
The feral sorcery of her charm
simmering with the magic herbs..
hemmed my tattered misgivings..
the intentions were never misjudged.
The abundance of my pinning heart
and the economies of her presence!
Like the shadow in the daylight
that redeems with a full moon credence.
Like still ripe sepia hues….
of the picture from the yore..
under that ochre autumn tree,
that at the eleventh hour still stands tall.
In the shadow of its vestigial promise,
I brought my sins and carnations…
come love, meet me under the moonlight
when reasons need not oblige a million adaptations!
Nature’s Music | Mary Bone
The north winds blow so strong,
an eerie sound, making its own song.
Birds sing in nearby trees,
there’s a hint of spring and the
buzzing of bees.
The month of March brings nature’s bloom.
During the summer the beauty will parch,
But for now, the flowers smile,
With no hint of impending doom.
