Sunflower Poetry Quotes Novels & Stories

I stopped when I saw them. She had said it weeks ago, not as a declaration about flowers, not as a hint, just as a thing that came out in the middle of a conversation about something else entirely. Sunflowers are the only flower that looks happy about existing. Said with that slight curve of her mouth that meant she had just thought of something she found genuinely pleasing. I had been half listening and half watching her face and I had filed it the way I filed everything she said without intending to file it.

I look at all their faces, eagerly waiting for my response and I chuckle. “this.” John jumps to his feet and points at the sunflowers close to him, with really large flowers on their stems, “stands for hope and happiness that makes our stomach sing. This,” he points again at another flower, those blue ones I had picked first from the woods, “stands for untold promises meant for us only. That,” he points at the white roses which I planted recently at the far end of the small garden, to prevent the pups from getting pricked by their still growing thorns. “Stands for pure love, like the ones our mothers have for us. See? My brain has everything in it.” While others clapped, what I thought them

Enjoying the feel of his arms around me. It’s not long before I begin to see it. After the blackness of night, Earth's star rises on the horizon, spreading her gold in every direction. She comes in the way that natural forces do, needing no invitation yet feeling her welcome. The light is her gift, bold and free, for anyone who cares to open their eyes in the dawn and watch the world awake. The sun blooms on the horizon, golden petals stretching ever outwards into the rich blue. It’s the brilliant flower of the sky that warms our days. It’s the invitation to a new day, the sunrise so ordinary, extraordinary. Before this rising sun I may be only a silhouette, yet as its rays, golden and stron

Verena Layton I am standing in a sunflower field. A sunflower field? Never went there before! But right now, I am in a sunflower field! I look around. Wow! I am surrounded by the gorgeous yellow flowers smiling brightly under the warm sun. Look at that! Even the butterflies are yellow. The monarch butterflies are dancing in the air like they own it. How pretty! How serene! “Verena, my love…” A familiar voice calls me. I turn on my heels, my sundress twirling.

Today, as per Annie’s request, he brought her to the sunflowers garden. The weather was surprisingly warm. The field was full of sunflowers that reached out toward the sunlight. Annie was in her long sleeve dress, hair braided into two ponytails, looking a little more alive. She leaned back on the wheelchair as she gazed at the beautiful sunflowers, and her face seemingly radiated. Annie turned to look at William and said, “Mr. Peterson, do you know? My biggest dream in life is to live like a sunflower.” Unfortunately…she was running out of time.

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.

I shook my head rapidly when I felt my cheeks burn, which caught Salazar's attention. "Something wrong?" he glanced at me and my throat went dry with the half attention. He looked so good while driving and I didn't know why I hadn't noticed it before. I cleared my throat to compose myself. "I uh.." I thought of another topic. "I love sunflowers." "You do?" he sounded surprised. "Surprised?" "I thought women liked roses." "That's so stereotypical of you, Salazar," I commented when a thought I didn't like came to mind. "Where is this coming from? Experience?"

I heard these things and felt nothing. Another year passed, and a florist opened in town. The owner was a young woman who'd drop fresh stems off at the clinic now and then. One day she brought sunflowers. "Dr. Jo, these were ordered by a gentleman out of state. He said they're for the best doctor in town." I looked at the sunflowers and didn't refuse them. I put them in a vase on my desk. Sunflowers mean silent love, the kind that is never spoken. I knew who they were from.

The dwindling sun and its soft rays that fell on the flowers with the life breezes that made them sway; it just unbelievably beautiful to be described in words. "Have you ever been to one?" Archer asked walking closer as I bend down to trace the little details of a sunflower. I didn't know what was so fascinating in these flowers but I was absolutely loving the little sceneries each of the flowers held. "Have I ever been to one?" I didn't know why I lowly whispered the question to myself, there was a quick blurry flashback that passed through my eyes but I couldn't really get a hold of it. The memory that'd stirred awake disappeared as if it never existed.

Orian rolled his eyes and I frowned flipping him the middle finger before thinking of a poem and I was beginning to regret getting him flowers. "Shall I compare thee to the sun that rises on the morrow and the moon that graces thee with its light for thou hath diest thee on a feast for lovely wenches for what is a name if it isn't to be borne and thus, thou hath my grump, here are thy roses." I stretched them out with a smile on my face. "You are not very bright, are you?" He raised a brow collecting the roses and bringing them up to his nose to smell their fragrance.