She wishes
she was enough
Enough
Tag Archives: flowers
Lyrics: Imaginary
Paper flowers
Paper flowers
I linger in the doorway
Of alarm clock screaming
Monsters calling my name
Let me stay where the wind will whisper to me
Where the raindrops as they’re falling tell a story
In my field of paper flowers
And candy clouds of lullaby (Flowers)
I lie inside myself for hours
And watch my purple sky fly over me (Flowers)
Don’t say I’m out of touch
With this rampant chaos, your reality
I know well what lies beyond my sleeping refuge
The nightmare I build my own world to escape
In my field of paper flowers
And candy clouds of lullaby (Flowers)
I lie inside myself for hours
And watch my purple sky fly over me (Flowers)
Swallowed up in the sound of my screaming
Cannot cease for the fear of silent lies
Oh, how I long for the deep sleep dreaming
The goddess of imaginary light
from the song Imaginary by Evanescence, 2000
A Transformation
she is profoundly changed—
right through her tender marrow
Lately (In Images)
Beside the POint
everything seems beside the point,
but i don’t know what the point is
Happiness
the sun of early spring
lifts our spirits—
the possibility of happiness within reach
Tea Rose
the blush lasted a day,
a day and maybe a minute—
a small window to admire the brevity of beauty
Excerpt From: Cider with Rosie, 3 of 3
Almost anything that caught her wandering eye, Mother gathered and brought indoors. In bottles, tea pots, dishes, and jugs, in anything old or beautiful, she’d put roses, beech-boughs, parsley, hellebore, garlic, cornstalks, and rhubarb.
from Cider with Rosie by Laurie Lee, 1959
The Shadow
he noticed the shadow from the dried flowers on the sill—
and it’s that noticing of something so slight,
so seemingly inconsequential
that brings love closer
An Excerpt: The Peony
It was named after Paeon, a physician to the gods, who obtained the plant on Mount Olympus from the mother of Apollo. Once planted the Peony likes to be left alone and punishes those who try to move it by not flowering again for several years. Once established, however, it produces spendid blooms each year for decades.
From Penhaligon’s Scented Treasury of Verse and Prose: The Language of Flowers, 1990
