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If tomorrow never comes and I’ve still not found a way to do the things I’d like to do but failed to day-by-day, I just want you to  know the dreams that I possessed, the hopes that kept me going,
When Winter winds begin to whirl around and whisper through my long and lonely days, I’ll light the fire and stoke it with a poem and hope I find some comfort in a phrase.  
Mon pays, c’est le beau soleil Mon pays n’est pas le dur hiver Mon pays est un Éden souvent vert
I am not going to wait for you to get illOr to die to send you bouquets of flowersRight now is the time to make you feelThat you're loved amid the rain showers.
On a limestone laced hillside, Under a sun burnished Umbrian sky; Like resting peasants, the olives thrive.
I was there when you built your garden I helped you pick what plants to grow I held your hand when you spoke of the harvest and all the meals we would share.
Imagine being picked Like petals from a flower Someone  holding you, wanting you, wishing for you Only to be pricked by the thorn  And watch the blood fall Mercilessly
Tested and tried and discouraged, I dried my cheeks with my head hanging low. I manifested a truth, blessed with courage, i died in defeat, then my corpse began to grow.
𝓗𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓰𝓪𝓻𝓭𝓮𝓷 𝔀𝓪𝓵𝓵𝓼 𝓻𝓲𝓼𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓱𝓲𝓹 𝓑𝓮𝔂𝓸𝓷𝓭 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓶 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓴𝔂 𝓲𝓼 𝓮𝓷𝓭𝓵𝓮𝓼𝓼 𝓐 𝓱𝓪𝔃𝓮 𝓲𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓵𝓵𝓷𝓮𝓼𝓼 𝓯𝓸𝓰𝓼 𝓶𝔂 𝓼𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽 𝓐 𝓶𝓲𝓼𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓬𝓪𝓾𝓰𝓱𝓽 𝓼𝓸𝓶𝓮 𝓫𝓮𝓷𝓮𝓿𝓸𝓵𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓵𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽 𝓑𝓵𝓸𝓸𝓭 𝓻𝓮𝓭 𝓻𝓸𝓼𝓮𝓼,  𝓯𝓾𝓵𝓵 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓻𝓲𝓹𝓮
Logged between the row of housesand the grassy banksruns the canal;it waters shimmering in the sunrays,twinkling like diamonds, The canal shimmering in Sunrise,as shadows dance within,the sun throwing his rays,like diamonds on the running canal. T
focused praying mantis still as a stickclueless prey three times its size—best friend of gardeners.. © 2019 Mark Toney.  All rights reserved .
The peace rose tenderly tended grows, In multiple seasons through out the year, It’s opening beauty dispels war’s fear. And tokens of friendship with a foe sows.   I grow the creamy hued rose in my heart,
The peace rose tenderly tended grows, In multiple seasons through out the year, It’s opening beauty dispels war’s fear. And tokens of friendship with a foe sows.   I grow the creamy hued rose in my heart,
Did we design the seed? The little grain of Hope. Did we comand to grow? The little sprout of Faith. Did we create the Light? The ray that makes it grow. Did we command the rains?
Once upon a time, in a kingdom far away, There was a beautiful tiger princess. And every prince from near and far Tried their best to win her heart.   The tiger princess was kind and good,
I remember one night As we walked hand in hand A rose secretly clutched in your sweaty palm The wind frolicking through your locks And mine swiftly gone upon the winds of love
My right-side brain's growing fowers, my lungs are sprouting roots. My heart's a dripping beehive, its sweetness all for you. So wrap it all up in paper, send a burnt offering to the sky.
the cutest thing is when we walk through a garden and the bees harmoniously hover around you miataking you for a flower oh silly bee, oh silly me i too make the same mistake   Kira
Through the rolling waves of time, The core of existence has never altered nor refined. Starting with the first faint memories of a family dinner: White jasmine rice with a selected number of simple side dishes.
To wake from your sleep With groggy, foggy eyes And to know of what you dream 'T is something you keep.   To wake from your daze Listening to the voices I notice those faces
Guilt blooms in my chest like an unwelcomed garden.  But luckily I chose to weed them out before they had any chance to stay and wind around my heart.   
I am a garden. This garden knows unrequited love. This garden gives unconditional love, nonetheless. Ripping and tearing bits and pieces out. A bouquet of smiles and hope. 
Where foot petals unfolded Under canopies of foliage was a place Neither good nor bad -- Was simply beyond. Rumi told   Me this: these words tattooed
We will have peace, Whether we are in Eden, Or Gethsemane.   For we will rise with the sun, And we will eat sweet fruit, From His vineyards.   We will go to the water,
           The Garden by Janet A.
The figures of stone watch over us with vigilance. The songbirds sing our praises in their molto vivace. The wildflowers form a carpet underneath our feet.
I cannot help but picture you in a garden, laying amongst the wildflowers.   ~awatr
Your lips were rose petals, dipped in natural moisture and your skin was kissed by the sun, leaving me constantly warm.
Quiet in its blooming,  Branching thoughts of wisdom, Soft petals cascade. In lavender and gentle pinks. Then soul crushing blues, sweep the garden, petals peacefully cascading no more,
We admire the reckless beauty of the overgrown fields, overrun by explosions of sunshine-yellow blooms and tall grass, swaying in tune to the gentle wind,
We admire the reckless beauty of the overgrown fields, overrun by explosions of sunshine-yellow blooms and tall grass, swaying in tune to the gentle wind,
Crystal Water and Clear skies...  
the garden is overgrown by weeds, the garden would be lovely without them, the flowers would be able to be free, to be able to breathe   untammed roots and stems weave throughout
The world is dirt Yet I’ve seen the greatest of flowers Spring up from its soil   And she was the loveliest flower  
My body is the tree of life Bearing fruit to all creation You are nothing more than a bee Only needed for pollination. I birth flowers of beautiful colors  Shades, of reds,purples and blue.
I planted my legacy inside of you. A tiny pebble of a seed, brittle and bitter from a lifetime of storms. I buried it deep in your soul.
somewhere far away surviving far past decay is a garden full of the flowers of emotion   the garden has every feeling the good ones and the bad from happiness and anger to feeling very sad
I wish I could be like the other hares Running around the yard without a care,  but I can only sit here and surmize that feeling of running to get the prize.
Dear Rosarian, Will I find you in the garden Where you tend the leaves And mind the breeze And care for all it's beauty   Rosarian, Rosarian Have you ever seen beyond the garden
Awake upon this garden You who belies life and lives For the wind in your hair Sing upon this sunshine You who decries truth and spies Magic in the air   Golden opportunity mixed
She is a wildflower. Not picked for her beauty, but for her wild heart. A child of mother nature  she grows in the darkest of places. Through the cracks of brokenness she blooms with grace.
when the heat wave strikes, do not moveit is better to become transparent and allow it to go through youholding onto suffering will only cause more pain either way when something is too cold or too hot it burns
Flowers are sweet. Bees can sting, the last thing I heard was the songbird sing. Friendly pollinators make the flowers shake and tilt. All the while, you left me lying there buried in the silt.
Blast! Blast heartbeat at the smallest gesture, Quietest thought, quickest glance. All of the best for Expansion in each’s willpower’s might. In Eve’s diary written right, Even unofficial and undivined
I am a canyon carved with water-worn cracks;The weight of other people always breaking my back.
Even a garden is perfect from far away, but look close for problems clear as day. The weeds and roots twist and wind, despite the farmers daily grind.  Without change of habbits or location,
Angel in the gardenI see your golden wingssense the sweetness of your gazeas it envelopes me todayNight has clearly left usthe stars and moon set downthe sun has cllimved her ladder
I’ve planted you a garden deep inside my mind The flowers, they’re all dying You must turn on the light
Fallen Shoulders Once Raised High Gardens Growing Up like Vines Flower fields place their Roots Deep within the Spine they Loop Beneath Between Around About The Cord that Dances Up to the Crown.
  I know what it’s like to fall in love and this is not it i used to have foggy glassesand titchy skin that wrinkled in all the right spotsand a burdensome nose and a wacky smile cocked to the side with thin lips
My words were ugly, so I hid them. They grew into a monster, and a world for it to live in. I tried to tell my mom but she says its just a figment I tried to tell my dad, but my dad says I'm just tripping
If not for hands and feeling I would have been blind, just a women being led by her lover Summer had come and wrenched out the sweet smells of earth from the dirt Flowers had long bloomed over 
To dam water that flows to a withering rose is a sin.   To release a flood to a drenched shrub is a sin.   For both will die whether wet or dry.   Though the mystery
My disease is a giant puzzle. A garden puzzle, containing varying shades of green, some specs of pink and blue. I have a few pieces; some are part of the big picture, others are completely irrelevant.
Forever my thoughts bend to you Like the leaning of a tree to to the wind   Forever my eyes turn to you Like the search of a flower for sunlight  
America's Garden Here in America diversity is key, Seen on this soil are seeds from overseas, Sailing on water or flying in air, The common goal of freedom brings those seeds there,
Prancing around Lillies marked the destination of a new place. Inside of a cave I dropped my bag on concrete steps and sat ontop of a hill from the wooden old house. Washed away by the wind were roses, sunflowers, and rabbits.
  Here in the garden, kaleidoscopic. Here where I took and ate, saccharine. Here she was born.   Let me go  Please stop it.    My veins crepuscule. Eyes dark  Lips dark
In the garden, a bird, a flowergold the edge, gold the dawn that hoversa song of summer, a tiny sparrow perchedlong upon the woody yarrow, that musky fills the aira redolent warmly breeze, brushes by the maple trees
Garden of roses Garden of love Simple garden of kisses To make my wishes   Dreams in the garden Twilight in the night Moonlight glows In the night   The garden of happiness
Hello! Attached is a video I made for my poem, if you could watch that as well. Let it load a little if it doesn't work right away. Thank You, Enjoy and Share the Poem with others!
my father met my mother on the train tracksleading out of Hackensack, New Jersey. she was clad in blue and embossed with blisters;he was wearing a black sweater and had a stumbling tongue. 
Still: He sat. Blank: His mind. Once                 a mental sanctuary, now            a dull, parched Garden of Eden Imaginations free-flowing organ plugged
Little, little Asian nymph splayed across her bed.
You’ve been trying to stop
You are my sweetest garden of effervescent lilies And the winter’s tender whistle of song in my ear The hour when a rainbow first awakens And a sunset’s dewy tears turn to skyfall
  There is a special worth that comes in knowing
My sanity hangs in the balance as I write. I fill the page with a world born of darkness and light. Of a universe centered at the very tips of my fingers. It flows from my mind in smooth streams of conciousness
like the flower, so blooms inspiration. roses only grow from fertile clay... thoughts, from a fecund imagination.   insights spring from fruitful contemplation while new buds grow with the sun's warm rays.
Love came here one day, Made a garden, Planted seeds in hearts, And went away. Some rapidly started to grow. They sprouted leaves And grew deep roots, But others were very slow.
The silence of your voice speaks volumes of pain. The butterflies in my stomach have flown to such great heights. You are precious china.
Moments in time, captured and frozen forever. Is that not what photographs are? I know that when I sit down And look at pictures, I am thrust into that moment of time,  Living it over and over again.
The rain began in my brain, Its lightning strikes my heart. Its torrential downpour Takes sight away, Tunnel vision
  Let me take y’all back Back in time Somewhere between the nights Somewhere without the lights Where you were the only person in my life That can make this thing we call lust feel so right
                August 18th                                                                Wrapped up your last pair of good sneakers In the crease of my elbows Went walking in your arms
We tiny seedsAre nurtured with loveMothers plant usWith shovels and gloves Mothers pull weedsFor more room to growAnd mount us to stakesTo lean on in snow
This is my first time putting my stuff out there. Wrote this when i was 14- 15. thanks.       red rose, red rose, oh what, do you say? For alas and alack... He took my life away.
I can smile and look at everythingTwisting a strand of hair with my finger,A childish expression i wear to pass the time. Until then I am wasting my time skipping and stepping on broken leaves,My toes growing numb from the water soaking into my sh
  Walking through the garden of our memories.. watering the flowers with coincide with our growth..   closing my eyes i breathe in the fresh air..
Inside my soul it cries and wails, I keep it trapped, for the key is mine. Until the cage, from my own hands, at long last falls and fails. Nobody can comprehend that museful flower,
Plant me a rose Plant me a smile Love out the weeds And all that is vile Grow me a lily Grow me a joy One I’ve not known Since I was a boy
Plant me a rose Plant me a smile Love out the weeds And all that is vile Grow me a lily Grow me a joy One I’ve not known Since I was a boy
A being but not of flesh He is existence He is truth He is all The melody he sings Graces the ears Like honey the tongue A fresh current sprung Spreading, reaching, growing, flowing—unheard
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