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You are now in the place where we share poems of well-known poets, often from the list “Best Poems” and “Best Poets”. Due to copyright we only present the poems of those poets who passed away some time ago and therefore, you will not find poems of contemporary poets here. We invite you to familiarise yourself with the poems about Flowers available here and we hope you will enjoy reading. The poems about Flowers found here you can easily add to the free ecards from our site, and then send ecards to friends. Best Flowers poems for you.
The Sleeping Flowers
"Whose are the little beds," I asked,
"Which in the valleys lie?"
Some shook their heads, and others smiled,
And no one made reply.
Perhaps they did not hear, I said,
I will inquire again.
"Whose are the beds -- the tiny beds
So thick upon the plain?"
"'T is daisy in the shortest;
A little further on, --
Nearest the door, to wake the first, --
Little leontodon....
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Poems by Emily Dickinson
The Veins of other Flowers
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The Veins of other Flowers
The Scarlet Flowers are
Till Nature leisure has for Terms
As "Branch," and "Jugular."
We pass, and she abides.
We conjugate Her Skill
While She creates and federates
Without a syllable.
Poems by Emily Dickinson
The Wild Flower's Song
As I wandered the forest,
The green leaves among,
I heard a Wild Flower
Singing a song.
"I slept in the earth
In the silent night,
I murmured my fears
And I felt delight.
"In the morning I went
As rosy as morn,
To seek for new joy;
But oh! met with scorn."
Poems by William Blake
Them Flowers
Take a feller 'at's sick and laid up on the shelf,
All shaky, and ga'nted, and pore--
Jes all so knocked out he can't handle hisself
With a stiff upper-lip any more;
Shet him up all alone in the gloom of a room
As dark as the tomb, and as grim,
And then take and send him some roses in bloom,
And you can have fun out o' him!
You've ketched him 'fore now--when his liver was sound
And his appetite notched like a saw--
A-mockin' you, mayby, fer romancin' round
With a big posy-bunch in yer paw;
But you ketch him, say, when his health is away,
And he's flat on his back in distress,
And _then_ you kin trot out yer little bokay
And not be insulted, I guess!...
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Poems by James Whitcomb Riley
Thou Flower Of Summer
When in summer thou walkest
In the meads by the river,
And to thyself talkest,
Dost thou think of one ever--
A lost and a lorn one
That adores thee and loves thee?
And when happy morn's gone,
And nature's calm moves thee,
Leaving thee to thy sleep like an angel at rest,
Does the one who adores thee still live in thy breast?
Does nature eer give thee
Love's past happy vision,
And wrap thee and leave thee
In fancies elysian?
Thy beauty I clung to,
As leaves to the tree;...
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Poems by John Clare
Three Flower Petals
When saw I yesterday walking apart
In a leafy place where the cattle wait?
Something to keep for a charm in my heart
A little sweet girl in a garden gate.
Laughing she lay in the gold sun's might,
And held for a target to shelter her,
In her little soft fingers, round and white,
The gold-rimmed face of a sunflower.
Laughing she lay on the stone that stands
For a rough-hewn step in that sunny place,
And her yellow hair hung down to her hands,
Shadowing over her dimpled face.
Her eyes like the blue of the sky, made dim
With the might of the sun that looked at her,
Shone laughing over the serried rim,
Golden set, of the sunflower....
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Poems by Archibald Lampman
To a Lady - with Flowers from a Roman Wall
Take these flowers which, purple waving,
On the ruin'd rampart grew,
Where, the sons of freedom braving,
Rome's imperial standards flew.
Warriors from the breach of danger
Pluck no longer laurels there;
They but yield the passing stranger
Wild-flower wreaths the Beauty's hair.
Poems by Sir Walter Scott
To buy a flower
Perhaps you'd like to buy a flower,
But I could never sell
If you would like to borrow,
Until the Daffodil
Unties her yellow Bonnet
Beneath the village door,
Until the Bees, from Clover rows
Their Hock, and Sherry, draw,
Why, I will lend until just then,
But not an hour more!
Poems by Emily Dickinson
To My Class: On Certain Fruits And Flowers Sent Me In Sickness
If spicy-fringed pinks that blush and pale
With passions of perfume, if violets blue
That hint of heaven with odor more than hue,
If perfect roses, each a holy Grail
Wherefrom the blood of beauty doth exhale
Grave raptures round, if leaves of green as new
As those fresh chaplets wove in dawn and dew
By Emily when down the Athenian vale
She paced, to do observance to the May,
Nor dreamed of Arcite nor of Palamon,
If fruits that riped in some more riotous play
Of wind and beam that stirs our temperate sun,
If these the products be of love and pain,
Oft may I suffer, and you love, again.
Poems by Sidney Lanier
Tags from Poems Flowers
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