In the meadow of impossible mornings,
the daisies exhale in a trumpet’s blush,
petals fluttering like embarrassed fans as
the air fills with laughter disguised as wind.
Rosehip hiccups, clouds of lavender smoke,
their thorns rattling like spoons in a drawer.
Lilies bow low, releasing secret choruses,
a brass band hidden in their stems.
Children chase the gusts,
catching invisible balloons of fragrance,
while the sky itself wrinkles with mirth,
blue fabric stitched by invisible seams.
And I, wandering through this orchestra,
learn that Beauty isn't always solemn—
it giggles, it sputters, farting flowers fair,
a garden of jokes blooming in full colour.
.
-
Author:
crypticbard (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: November 9th, 2025 04:46
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 24
- Users favorite of this poem: Bella Shepard, Tristan Robert Lange
Offline)
Comments8
What a joyful celebration of nature! Farting flowers is hilarious!
Glad of it, the hilarity and thte nature of nature! Thanks, FrasMac 🕊️🙏
Nature full of paradox, beauty is more than a veneer. It shines from within and laughs at the arrogant and haughty. It does not deem itself as anything more than what it is and has a charm of its own. A lovely poem light hearted but with a message. Nicely done my friend
Thanks Soren, this is most appreciated 🙏🏻🕊️
As always Cryptic you are most welcome
I'm thinking of the flowers in my garden, who tend to do a runner when they see me coming.
Now that you've mentioned farting flowers, a new plan is forming.
Now the anticipation builds! This is so exciting, Paul 🙏🕊️
I enjoyed reading this beauty. On a Sunday morning, sipping yesterday's coffee.
Yay,,winning! 🤩🙏🏻🕊️
Good write A. And now me next poem, often using alliterations, erm 'F.....something flowers!' .lol.
Shall we take a bow? 🙇🙏🏻🕊️
This poem is such fun, bursting with metaphor, and the visual and olfactory senses are awash with pleasure. Such a lovely Sunday treat!!
Au naturelle. Thank you kindly, dear Bella🙏🏻🕊️
Arqios, this is delight and depth all at once…nature laughing through its own imperfections. A symphony of silliness done masterfully, my friend.🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
...where imperfection is the innate beauty and quite perfect in fact. Thanks, Tittu .🕊️🙏
Indeed. Amen. You are most welcome, my friend!
Aah - that's what I mean - real poetry. My nostrils are quivering.
Good for you, Rik.
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.