Sunflowers Poems Quotes Novels & Stories

There’s still so much I don’t know about him. “Yes, madame,” he replied as we stopped at a spot filled with sunflowers, “I’m gonna leave you here now; enjoy the rest of the night.” He bid farewell, leaving me speechless in amazement. Sunflowers have always been my favorite flower; they mean unconditional love. I’m not a hopeless romantic, nor am I extremely bitter; I just love the meaning behind them.

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?

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.

Chicago was supposed to be my fresh start—a place where no one knew Melissa Miller, the girl whose heart had been shattered. Yet somehow... He found me. I looked back down at the bouquet of bright yellow sunflowers. They were my favorite. Dean knew that. Every birthday, every anniversary, every random Tuesday when he wanted to make me smile, he'd bring me sunflowers. He always said they reminded him of me because they looked toward the light no matter how dark the day became. A tear rolled down my cheek. "Why now?" I whispered. My fingers trembled as I unfolded the small handwritten note again.

'Because no one can motivate you better than yourself. Ballet practice awaited, and today, it would meet its match. Gone were the days of surrendering to the temptations of the snooze button; I was ready to face pirouettes and pliés head-on. I stood before my cream-colored wall, adorned with a collage of motivational quotes that had become my morning companions. Their words stared back at me, like cheerleaders urging me to conquer the day. I took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet scent of rose-scented sunscreen as I sprayed it onto my face. The fragrance brought a sense of calm and confidence. I couldn't believe I forgot to apply sunscreen on my face before stepping outside on my first day.

I found an old apartment by the beach and signed the lease. The gray-haired landlady slipped a set of keys into my hand and smiled. "This place has always brought people luck, sweetheart. Folks who move in tend to get a break and turn their lives around." I stared at the mottled wallpaper, where a sunflower sticker was plastered crookedly. Suddenly, I remembered how Mom always lined the windowsill with sunflowers. "Sunflowers are great," she'd say. "They turn toward the light, and even when they fall, they find a way to rise again."

It implies that the person you love is like the sun that shines and warms your heart. Erwin Wilson still remembers a little story about sunflowers. Once upon a time, when the earth was still engulfed in the wild night, the flowers huddled together in search of warmth. The space is always immersed in a dark, quiet night without a sound of birdsong. Day after day passed in sadness. Flowers can only wait and sing sad songs, hoping that a miracle will happen to free them from the long dark days.

The florist chimed in, "Ma'am, I think sunflowers suit you better." Iris smiled, curious. "Why is that?" "The language of sunflowers is to bravely face challenges, cut through thorns, and show a brilliant life," the florist explained. Iris was a lawyer, and having recently cut her hair short, she exuded a competent and neat impression, but there was a hint of sadness in her eyes. Perhaps that was why she looked like she was in need of encouragement, and so, the florist recommended sunflowers. Stanley's hurtful words from the day before had indeed made her sad.

We were in the car when I asked, "I love the flowers by the way." "A perfect representation of who you are, really." "How so?" He glanced at me briefly, a smile gracing his lips, "Roses, beautiful but with thorns. You may be enchanted with their beauty but once you touch them you know how painful they can be." Wow, he really gave it some thinking. I didn't expect that. "And the sunflowers?" I asked after a short humm. "Bright, they can make the saddest of souls happy, just like you, when you want to, that is."

He sat feeling uncomfortable, he wondered what Sarah was up to. "Ryan, Incase I die, do not weep by my grave." "How...like what do you mean?" He looked at her perplexed. "Do not stand at my grave and weep I am not there; I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow, I am the diamond glints on snow, I am the sun on ripened grain, I am the gentle autumn rain. When you awaken in the morning’s hush I am the swift uplifting rush Of quiet birds in circled flight.