Archive for Flowers


Posted in Happy Poems, Hopeful Poems, Poems with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 24, 2012 by Myra's Circle

The words leap off the page as I stare,

Replaced by pictures; a three dimensional lair,

Imagination grabs my mind,

Not letting go of it’s own kind.

I see the bad guys, their genius plans,

The good guys’ deadline, an hourglass of sands,

I see their world, just as they see,

The tiniest details, the flowers, and bees.

I hear their laughs and see their smiles,

I laugh along with them for a little while,

I hear the world bustling around,

Yet reality never makes as much as a sound.

Their fear is mine, striking my heart,

Striking straight through, like a poisoned dart,

I freeze, stop, stare the bad guys down,

And then I remember and feel such a clown.

For hear I am, alone in my home,

Fear goes away, my excitement has grown,

I look back to the page in front,

And in my mind I’m on a tree stump.

Imagine a World

Posted in Happy Poems, Hopeful Poems, Poems, Sad Poems with tags , , , , , , , , , , on October 24, 2012 by Myra's Circle

Imagine a world where all was pretty,

And all was intelligent and clever and witty,

Where flowers bloomed at all times,

And the lovely birds’ singing was not a crime.

Imagine a world where all knew everything,

And even the saddest soul could sing,

Where no one ever felt upset or sad,

And no one said, “I wish I had.”

Imagine a world full of adventure,

The kind that everyone could endure,

Of endless fun and times to be had,

A place where not a person could be bad.

Imagine a world of infinite excitement,

And away was a place where no one was sent,

A place of happiness and granted wishes,

Of hopes and dreams and unplanted kisses.

Imagine a world where all dreamed fitfully,

And no one was teased by a big mean bully,

Sleep was something easily acquired,

And a gun was never, ever to be fired.

If only… this dream world is not enough,

If only… the real world is much more rough,

If only this world did exist,

This world where everyone and anyone would be missed.

Even You Can See the Springtime

Posted in Poems, Sad Poems with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 7, 2012 by Myra's Circle

Even you can see the springtime,

Without the sun to shine,

Even you can see beyond the dark world,

Even through an abyss of dark swirls.

Even you, as twisted as you are,

Can see the world without the scars,

Even you can see another day,

Brighter than the lips can say.

Even you can see a hope of tomorrow,

A day without sadness, or sorrow,

Even you, as blind as you may be,

See the world as others may see.

Even you can see the flowers, dancing in the wind,

Pure flowers who’ve never sinned,

Even you, as oblivious as is possible,

In specks of dust sees something not so dull.

Though, it all seems to be true,

Even blind people see better than you.


Posted in Love Stories, Sad Stories, Stories with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , on September 18, 2012 by Myra's Circle

I ran through the fields of flowers, a streak of joy flowing through me.  The smell of fresh flowers penetrated my nostrils.  They smelt like summer.  I loved summer.  The days were always longer, so you could always seem to fit everything into daytime.  The day was bright and sunny, and drops of perspiration trickled down my cheek from the intensity of the heat.  I am not completely carefree though.  I question my every thought, every move.  I couldn’t seem to feel as calm and collected as others thought I was.  Inside I was screaming.  I was confused, angry even.  I hated that part of myself, that part that was always asking questions.  I stopped running and lay down in a bed of flowers with a particularly strong, sweet aroma.  I closed my eyes and drifted.  In my thoughts I drifted to my special place, a small white room I could no longer go to.  My study.  I saw the beautiful, intricate white desk, with a chair to match.  There wasn’t much else in the room.  The figure of me in my mind placed a pale hand onto the desk longingly.  The long white dress ‘I’ was wearing was in tatters.  I loved this little room, my sanctuary.  Whenever things didn’t go right anywhere else, I would escape up here, where I would write until my hands ached and cramps gathered in my legs from lack of exercise.  Sadly, I could no longer come here.  I watched through sad eyes as friends and family members came up here and said, “Her presence still lingers here.  It’s almost like she’s watching us from above like an angel.”  Every single person who came here said that, and it made me very lonely and sad to be referred to as a mere presence.  I was glad that they were moving on, though.  I was also glad that I no longer live there, in that world.  This world I now live in, is full of love and warmth.  Every night at dusk, I would hear angels sing.  It was beautiful.  But I was lonely in this new life.  I had no one to talk to, to confide in.  To quell my loneliness, I would visit my study and watch all of those people stroll through there daily, to mourn me.  Everyone knew that my death was inevitable but I was well missed.  I miss my friends too.  Now, I dream of a time and a place, where I can be with my friends and family again, where they can see me and not just sense my presence.  When I entered, I was greeted by bright light and choirs of angels.  This is what heaven feels like.

In a World of My Own

Posted in Fantasy Stories, Hopeful Stories, Stories, True Stories with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on September 18, 2012 by Myra's Circle

Faraway, in a world of my own, there’s a place we’ll all be free.  In this world, everyone would be at peace and get along, like the flowers growing along the path.  In the winter, the snow would fall and blanket the earth and the flowers, like icing sugar on a cake.  There, the sky would always be blue, and no smoke or smog would smoulder the sky.  Birds would sing sweetly, a new song each morning, and creatures would go about their daily lives without being bothered by us humans.  We would protect the extremely endangered species, like the white rhinoceros and the giant panda.  No one would ever feel left out because we would all look out for each other.  If someone fell over, someone else would bend over to help them and ask, “Are you okay?” without thinking about it.  There would be no ‘kings’ or ‘queens’, because no one would commit crimes.  The land would not be ravaged by war, or famine, and if someone was lonely, another person would sit next to them and be their friend.  The grass there would be just as green as the ‘other side’, and whenever someone saw a piece of rubbish on the ground, they would pick it up and put it in the bin without hesitating.  There would be no factories, no polluting cars or roads, just beautiful green hills everywhere.


This world sounds perfect, doesn’t it?  Well guess what?  That little world is ours, just without all of the war, famine, loneliness, pollution, hate, fear, criminals and sadness.  That’s what our world would look like, at least, in my dream.

Flowers in the Snow

Posted in Poems with tags , , , , , , on May 21, 2012 by Myra's Circle

Flowers grow,

In the snow,

Seems impossible,

Flowers and snow quibble.

Wriggle, wriggle,

Out they pop!

Flowers showing their beauty,

Renewed life.