Flower Poem Novels & Stories

So sultry, it made his body ache to be so close and not inside of her. He curled back his lips in a smile of wry appreciation. “You are like a jasmine flower, so exotic. Did you know that jasmine flowers open their fragrant petals only under the persuading charm of the night’s moon?” “I never knew that.” “Open for me now, my love. Let’s pretend that I’m the moon, and you are my flower.” She giggled. “I love when you are poetic.” “It’s much better than when I’m fighting witches or scaring you from shifting.”

Of course I wanted his number then I replied, "What is your name?" I sat my phone down so I could dry off and get dressed. Then like clock work another ping from I*******m. He asked, "What is your name beautiful?" I began to blush then replied. "My name is Elisabeth Rose Freeman ,but everyone calls me Beth", I messaged back. He then replied, "Vladius Lee Sinclair, nice to meet you Beth". I then in return sent my number to him. I finished getting ready for the day. I was planning on cleaning up my dorm room.

I murmured, my fingers lightly brushing the stems of the flowers beside me as I searched for the words. “I think it would be the white camellia.” His gaze didn’t leave me. “They look delicate,” I continued slowly, “but they’re actually very resilient. They bloom even in colder seasons and stay beautiful for a long time.” My voice softened without me meaning to. “In flower language… They represent quiet love. Devotion that doesn’t need to be loud.” I paused, staring down at the petals. “Sometimes they also symbolize longing… the kind of love that exists quietly, even when no one notices it.”

Suddenly, an uninvited guest crashed the wedding halfway through. It was Carlo. He was bony, wearing a wrinkled suit, and holding a wilted bouquet of roses. He staggered in front of me, babbling, "Rosa… look, I brought you your favorite roses. Won't you marry me? Let's get married today." Luca's bodyguards moved in to remove him, but I held my hand up. I took the wilted bouquet of roses and looked straight at him. "Oh, Carlo. Look at me. Take a good look... Whose wedding do you think this is? This is my wedding. Mine, and I'll be marrying Luca. And you? You're just a madman crashing someone else's wedding."

Then she returned and pointed out each selection. "Gladiolas for strength and faithfulness. Calla lilies for innocence and purity, amaryllis for splendid beauty, and daffodils for unrequited love." "Unrequited?" Charles asked. "Think of it as a plea for it to be requited," she answered with a wink. Charles noticed she missed one flower, a flower he recognized. "And the gardenias? What do they mean?" The young florist smiled and touched his gloved hand. "Secret loveand the sender of gardenias is lonely." The woman's gaze drifted to the flowers, and he realized she must be lonely as well. Loneliness was so tragic in such a shop such as this.

She said "Okay, that's it. I'm coming in, Flower," I said and opened the door. Rose was sitting on the toilet with three pregnancy tests in her hand. "Do you need some help?" I asked, and she shook her head no. I took the tests out of her hand and looked at them. They had two pink lines lit up. "Flower, are you pregnant?" I asked "Yeah, I think I am. All of those, plus the three tests on the counter, say that I am pregnant," She whispered.

Its sweet scent fills my room, a gentle reminder of his thoughts. At the diner, it's always a delivery of another flower. Each time a single stem. I've received red carnations symbolizing 'deep admiration', white gardenias for 'you're lovely', purple irises for wisdom and compliments, yellow daffodils for new beginnings. Ellen, ever knowledgeable, shares the meanings of each flower, her eyes twinkling with excitement.

A soft plunk echoed through the air as the ring disappeared beneath the surface, swallowed by the deep. Carissa turned to the distance, a bright, carefree smile blooming on her face as she looked at the grave. "You're free now. From now on, love yourself more." Her smile was as lovely as ever.

“Ms. Jensen, your partner and the kids are amazing. You’re really lucky. “Your arm would have been fine with just some ointment. But they insisted you stay in the hospital and took care of you the whole time.” Moon smiled. Pride shone in her eyes. Julian walked in with the two boys. He handed her the bouquet he was holding, and a warm smile spread across his face. “Your discharge papers are ready. The boys picked these flowers this morning. Congratulations on getting out of the hospital!” Zayden and Yannick leaned in on either side. “Ms. Jensen, look! There are still dewdrops on the flowers!” “Ms. Jensen, these flowers are as pretty as you!”

She said while I held back the smile creeping around my lips Her voice carried a sense of reverence as she spoke, as though each word was imbued with her own experiences and emotions. I found myself entranced by her storytelling, her words weaving a tapestry of meanings and emotions associated with these beautiful flowers. As the conversation continued, we delved deeper into the symbolism of other flowers. She spoke of the delicate elegance of the lily, the vibrant energy of the sunflower, and the quiet resilience of the orchid. Her words painted vivid pictures in my mind, evoking a deep appreciation for the wonders of nature and the messages they carried.