Poem Sunflower Novels & Stories

Just like the sunflowers turn to the sun, my heart turns to you. Your smile lights up my life like the sun lights up these petals. In your presence, I bloom. These were just some of the first notes I found and read, but it got more interesting the further I went. I crave a taste of your lips. I want to feel your body pressed against me in a sweaty mess. I want to lose myself in you. I really hope he wrote and placed these himself because I dont want to imagine the poor flower shop lady having to write this. One could only hope it stopped there, but no. It would be too easy.

It read: "Camilla, in crimson I send my fire, A heart once cold now beats with desire. Though walls rise high and days are long, My passion waits, steadfast and strong." Is he for real? I couldn't stop the blush on my cheeks as I re read the poem. When did Maverick get so poetic. I took the poem and closed the pack before reading the sticky note at its back. “I follow the sky, yet wait where petals curl and fold.” Sky? Sunflower maybe?

Snowdrops for winter, daffodils for spring, wildflowers for summer, sunflowers for autumn. Sunflowers for autumn. He knew. He’d already threatened me with revealing the truth, and now he was taunting me with it. But if he wasn’t going to say it outright, then neither was I. “They’re beautiful,” was my carefully crafted reply. It gave away nothing about me. “Thank you.” I took them, feeling the paper crinkle under my fingers. “I’ll just find a vase for them.” He nodded, and I shuffled back inside before he could say anything more. I closed the door on him, let out a silent scream, then dumped the flowers in a large water jug, filling it halfway before forcing myself to go back to him.

I told myself this was tactically interesting and nothing else. By day seven I had stopped telling myself that. On day eight Ruby brought oats with strawberries arranged on top with a care that was its own form of hostility, and stood watching me from the doorway while I considered the tray with the expression of someone who was genuinely sorry to cause inconvenience. "I'm so sorry," I said warmly. "Strawberries give me hives. And the oats look like they've been waiting a while. I don't want to trouble you with something I won't be able to eat."

he says with a small smile, “Yeah, but you understood it for what it was.” He says nothing, his hands busy with serving the food, I swallow. When I told the story of sunflowers keeping me alive, there were memes made of out of it. My dreary days at Sweet Home was made colorful because of a patch of sunflowers my neighbors kept by their windowsill that faced where I slept. For some reason I was fascinated by it, and told myself, I would either run away or... kill myself when it wilted, it never did.

“Sunflower?” “Yes. You’re a sunflower. I know most analogies would use a rose. But I think you’re a sunflower. If a rose tried to be a sunflower, it would lose its delicate beauty. If a sunflower tried to be a rose, it would lose its strength.” I tried to explain. Taking a chance, I reached over, holding her hand. “Unlike any other flower, the sunflower is a flower I admire and like the most. Because even on the darkest day, they have the strength to stand tall and find the sunlight.”

The last person she expected to see. He was already sliding into the seat across from her, a small, hopeful smile on his face. Time had passed, but his presence still stirred a storm of memories, both good and painful. “I think you’ll like the flowers I brought you,” he said, reaching beside him and placing a bouquet wrapped in brown paper on the table. Sunflowers. Bright, bold, unapologetically joyful. Her favorite. She stared at them, speechless for a moment. The petals looked like they had been plucked straight from a summer morning—golden, alive, defiant. Just like she used to be before everything between them unraveled.

When he lifts it back up, I see what it is. One day when I was bored, I droned on for several hours about the literary meaning behind sunflowers. How they stood for longevity and adoration, because isn't that what everyone who wants to fall in love wants? Not everyone wants a love that burns red and then dies out quickly, some people want continuous love that doesn't fade with time. I didn't even know that he was really listening to me, but a few days later he started giving me my cups of tea in a mug with a sunflower on it and put an emoji sunflower by my name in his phone.

For them, human was fated to die, be it from plagues or wars. “Oh, my sun! My powerful sun! Please show my baby the way back home!” Even though the old lady bathed in the sun until her skin cracked, the god would never hear her. Still, as she passed by, this time, Sierra put down a bottle. “Ma’am, at least drink a water-“ “No! No!” The old lady shushed her away, “The god of sun won’t like it if I drink and eat! This is the only way for him to hear my prayers!”

Joseph felt the wind knocked out of him as he heard the whistle followed by the loudest sound he's ever heard in all his 16 years under the Tau Ceti sun. A whiz and BOOM. Whiz and BOOM. Explosion after explosion came pummeling down onto them. An unending barrage of terrifying heat and sound and fireball crashed all around them. Joseph covered his face as clods of disturbed earth pelted and rained down on him. His screams were drowned out by the loud thunders. It went on forever. Until it didn't. Then it stopped. He heard nothing afterwards except the constant ringing in his ear.