A field of flowers is a colorful sight
Some could hide the darkness the way they glow at night:
The Night Phlox,Casablanca Lily,Evening Promise,Angels Trumpet
This picture promise is announced by a retiring sunset
As she welcomes the lure of the night, a cavalier.
A field of flowers is a colorful light-
A disorganized splash of nature on a canvas
A synchronized chaos alluring to the sight
A gathering of nectar spicing the drink of the gods
Poured into a sexual union of anther and stigma
A field of flowers is a prayer answered-
A sight of forgiveness,a reason to bow.
Earth is a stream flowing into me
carrying the age of time and space,
living on the roots rules read out loud
with hailstones from hell
focusing on my path.
I am a flower budding to a tree
and so are you if you choose not the religion
of the grass.
There are wild ones and those groomed in a pot.
Some of them soft, while some have thorns.
The world is a field of flowers.
I was the lily that gave the sun its tan,
A sight that made men whistle and sing songs,
A flower grown accustomed to the sting of bees,
Too much sugar has singled me out from the rest.
I have survived the weeds and wicked deeds.
My petals wilted and bloomed again.
A true testament of survival through odd times.
Stems deeply rooted in happiness.
Had I but field enough and time,
Sowing flowers will be no crime.
I would sit my creativity down and create a way
To think of it and its benefit someday.
For I will make love to its beauty before rain,
Not remembering evolution of the land’s pain.
The offspring of this love shall grow.
Vaster than empires with love flow.
I would make a garden of quaint honor.
A place to calm down after a hard labor.
And Sweet slow Songs will sit on my skin.
Filling all the open empty holes with medicine.
On this sick bed I write
The way to life is to give
I pledge to honour you
Water and caress you
No Moths will plant some thorns
Or stones that will prick your throne
On this sick bed I write
Nature will heal my strife
Red pots and green leaves
Beautifully rooted among bees
Neatly weeds buying peace
In exchange I sold my peace
Cecilia stayed true to her name
(The lilies of heaven)
Floating the gold dust rays of the skyline
The strip between her heart and mine makes a magical sight
Blooming with thoughts and memories without season
Flourishing on the nutrients of decayed thorns of distrust and hurts.
Let’s sit on this rocking chair of days
While we watch bees and butterflies grace this garden we’ve made
Your kisses are deep red
they must be roses
my touch is tender, soothing
bougainvilleas are the same
Piercing like the brightest sun-
flowers bloom in your eyes
Like a song at midnight, like hibiscuses
Your voice reaches to the heavens
We are made of sunshine, gentle petals
Waters streaming, laughter of children and flowers
Come now, lie with me, let us dream of honey bees
Let us birth flowery springs
A garden of life
All shades of beautiful
The smell of nectar lingers,
Sweetness well tasted
Bright petals smiling back
Emitting positive energy
On the field of flowers, my soul is caressed.