Best Flower Girl Poems

The flower girl carefully placed the yellow rose petals

Covering the floor before her each step down the aisle

Now satisfied and smiling, she looked like an angel

There standing awaiting the bride

The yellow rose carpet was perfect and perfumed

She had performed her job with great pride

The bridal...

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Ever since I was just a little girl,
I loved to leap and dance, swirl, whirl and twirl.
Also, each day I liked to pick flowers,
oh, I could do this for hours, hours.

Sometimes, I would do both things, twirl and pick,
when doing this I had to...

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Alone  the bones of the room bear no weight 
of responsibility nor does it bare its breast of secrets

a broken pane provides a breath with a pang of lavender
a wistful inhale inhabits the lungs of this space
as the room tries to embrace  ...

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This picture I pick is not her own,
It could be for a bimbo or a night trig. 
This picture with me is not her own,
It could be for a sissy or a bleaching wig.
This picture I hold is not her own,
It could be for a...

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Beside a gilded wall of white a dainty bench is resting;
Victorian accents swirl about the ornate room, providing
An elegance, a beauty in each line and curve, attesting
To cultured tastes and upscale life, and hours spent deciding
What shapes and colors best would suit the airy, springtime...

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The roaring bull
enters the arena;
clouds of dust raise.
Then the slender matador
in tight attire arrives;
he has no knowledge
of who is watching.
The prettiest girl
in traditional dress
has set eyes on him;
her posture is elegant.
A red flower in her dark hair
suggests an inflamed passion.
It's a scorching day
in Madrid; the...

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Like a flower you are
Mixed Beauty with generous attar
Flowers progression from year to year
Phenomenal that should be revealed

Some will be picked from the fields
That loved ones would be pleased
Some would be crushed by feet
As lovers wonder the fields
Some would dry out from the heat 
Plummeting...

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She is out in the meadow, 
with the sun in her face
There's a warm trace of velvet on white porcelain skin
She will steal away breath
if the eyes lay to rest
on sweet Lily, an ingénue', who lives on the lane
      ...

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I chanced upon a spinny overgrowth, in which a sole rose had born,
her supple blossom shone like balefire, even against her thorns.

“Come to me” she beckoned, yet the bracken warned with wicked teeth.
The lone hint of ruby in a palette of sepia, ashened against her...

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(Re: Old Poems)



Far away on the moor, wind creeps quiet:
When the golden rays fade and the day's gone;
From a nook rustling in the woods of night,
Cries a whippoorwill ever and anon.
Thickets skirting and swirling untill dawn;
She wended her way, swept by Queen Anne's lace;
To be...

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I am dead without my love.
It is simple as that.
I cannot breath without her,
I cannot eat without her,
I cannot write without her.
I cannot live without my love,
I am dead without my love.

I cannot prosper without her warm embrace,
I cannot think without her by my side.
always...

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It's April and stately trees are slowly
changing from white to green;
skies above look down cheerfully,
into the small lake tiny frogs plop
as balloons float over a tree top:
" Happy Birthday, Little Queen! " 

If spring is the annual rebirth of Nature
and human spirit, all must sing...

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I longed for a love pure like driven snow,
     untouched and vestal in the spring years to come;
the years came, and were gone until my woe
     over love now lost filled my present autumn.

Virgin, and never a...

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she was a rose
but he could not keep her 
because she had thorns...

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hello! hey! boungiorno! what is the date?/
this world of dimensions created duality/
no letters/ no words/ are enough to express/
someone like you/ in reality/

i filled all your emptines/ MY still quiet bay/
as Jhon opened world in his Yoko/
you searched perfect princes/ looked for "right him"/
now at...

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