it was always difficult to find one at home.they were always in the same place, but that place was frequently forgotten. there were plenty of them, they were just not where one would expect. under cabinets, tucked away on shelves, displayed openly (which were obviously the easiest to find). now there is no where that one would think to look for one. this place is supposed to be close, yet there is only a distance felt. there are no vases here, simple to find or not.
She ran her hand over the edges. It was unfinished in places, the varnish not quite settling everywhere along the rough handwork of the camp arts and crafts center.
The vase came crashing down as she screams his name. “Get out of my life!” An all too familiar scene for the girl who had been passed and passed by boys in her high school. She knows what they’re up to and she can’t change
Serpentine dreams wrapped the sides from just inside the lips to just under the base. Did they connect inside? Or were they a part of the glaze? Just another facade to a vessel awaiting content….
a vase is a case for taming chase
now thats a mighty race to say to take place
pick up the face
light up the mace
and there you have your magic for undertaking trace
Ornate vessel for drowning beautiful plants that should be left in the ground. Not a hope of it ever matching the beauty of its contents. Leave he bloody flowers where they are!
harry Roseblade
There were some flowers in the vase on the table. It had an oriental, floral pattern adorning it, and the surface shone in the sunlight that was creeping in through the window. The the kid kicked the football across the room as hard as he could.
Martin Bounds
collected flowers
for beauty put in a vase
better in nature
like the deer is shot
with hunter’s admiration
then none else see it
! Haiku-man !
The vase was empty. Had been for years. But I wasn’t sad because of that. I was sad because the vase looked even more empty in my room than it did in hers. I didn’t matter where she put it, it always looked more alive when she was in control .
Godruhn
I never had a vase, they gave me a vase with many flowers representing the lost loved one gone forever with only these lovely lost pedals falling around me in remembrance of the lost one.
Karen Beard
a boy who plays football suddenly kick a vase at a house near the field. he feels afraid.
Hazwani
The flowers draped lazily over the edge of the white porcelain. One single blue rose standing strong amongst the wilting flowers. Its a symbol of the winter she thought, how fitting that he chose to represent lifes triumph over death in times such as these…..
Matthew Armstrong
She gave me a vase. A china with intricate oriental designs she bought from some remote pottery village. It was supposedly a very thoughtful gesture–as she implied a few times already. But what am I supposed to do with it exactly? I never liked flowers.
Vase can mean different things to different people. For me, it means something that hold something beautiful. Even our body can be a vase holding our souls
suma
The vase was crystal clear, so much so that it could be easily looked through, if not for the delicate flowers arranged within it and the light dancing off it’s edges, casting rainbows across the room.
“Did you break my vase?” Teresa asked her oldest son, Charlie.
“No, Mom,” he replied. “It was Jason!”
“Did you break my vase?” Teresa asked her middle son, Jason.
“No, Mom,” he replied. “It was Sheryl!”
“Don’t even bother asking me, Mom,” Sheryl snapped from behind the screen of her laptop before Teresa could even speak. “Charlie and Jason drank Dad’s beer and crashed your vase while singing along loudly to Queen’s ‘Bohemian Rhapsody.’ Filmed the whole thing,”
Belinda Roddie
For some reason he has it sitting on the table. She doesn’t know why because flowers don’t grow here, so the only thing he’s keeping in it is air, and it’s so unlike him to do something impractical like that. But there it is, blue and fluted, translucent like a little vein arching through the room towards the ceiling, bloodflow.
She jumps when he comes in. “Oh -” Sorry.
Zoe
The glass of the vase was squeaky clean, much to her chagrin. The enormous vase was the only thing separating her from her obnoxious little sister. Her sister was in the throes of middle school and her personality left much to be desired.
The roses were beautiful. They sat in an antique crystal vase on the window sill catching the bright sunlight. She wasn’t sure who had sent the roses to her. Apparently she had a secret admire. Still, the roses fit perfectly with her vase that belonged to her great grandmother and put a bright spot in her apartment.
Keira stares at the vase. The flower design is bright, marred by a massive crack down the center. It’s been like that since she was a kid and even before that, when it sat in her grandmother’s house. Someday, Keira knows it will sit in her own house.
Lacey
The flowers it holds, the only little bit of beauty brightening the small and dark dungeon. It wasn’t actually a dungeon, but he felt that way, trapped in the small building all the time. The colours constantly rotating through the seasons were the only way to realise time was passing.
Tera
There was a knock on the door that snapped Anna out of her deep thoughts. She got up off the couch and opened the door. it was a florist with a bouquet of roses. The strange thing was, there was no name from the sender.
it was always difficult to find one at home.they were always in the same place, but that place was frequently forgotten. there were plenty of them, they were just not where one would expect. under cabinets, tucked away on shelves, displayed openly (which were obviously the easiest to find). now there is no where that one would think to look for one. this place is supposed to be close, yet there is only a distance felt. there are no vases here, simple to find or not.
She ran her hand over the edges. It was unfinished in places, the varnish not quite settling everywhere along the rough handwork of the camp arts and crafts center.
The vase came crashing down as she screams his name. “Get out of my life!” An all too familiar scene for the girl who had been passed and passed by boys in her high school. She knows what they’re up to and she can’t change
Serpentine dreams wrapped the sides from just inside the lips to just under the base. Did they connect inside? Or were they a part of the glaze? Just another facade to a vessel awaiting content….
a vase is a case for taming chase
now thats a mighty race to say to take place
pick up the face
light up the mace
and there you have your magic for undertaking trace
Ornate vessel for drowning beautiful plants that should be left in the ground. Not a hope of it ever matching the beauty of its contents. Leave he bloody flowers where they are!
There were some flowers in the vase on the table. It had an oriental, floral pattern adorning it, and the surface shone in the sunlight that was creeping in through the window. The the kid kicked the football across the room as hard as he could.
collected flowers
for beauty put in a vase
better in nature
like the deer is shot
with hunter’s admiration
then none else see it
The vase was empty. Had been for years. But I wasn’t sad because of that. I was sad because the vase looked even more empty in my room than it did in hers. I didn’t matter where she put it, it always looked more alive when she was in control .
I never had a vase, they gave me a vase with many flowers representing the lost loved one gone forever with only these lovely lost pedals falling around me in remembrance of the lost one.
a boy who plays football suddenly kick a vase at a house near the field. he feels afraid.
The flowers draped lazily over the edge of the white porcelain. One single blue rose standing strong amongst the wilting flowers. Its a symbol of the winter she thought, how fitting that he chose to represent lifes triumph over death in times such as these…..
She gave me a vase. A china with intricate oriental designs she bought from some remote pottery village. It was supposedly a very thoughtful gesture–as she implied a few times already. But what am I supposed to do with it exactly? I never liked flowers.
Vase can mean different things to different people. For me, it means something that hold something beautiful. Even our body can be a vase holding our souls
The vase was crystal clear, so much so that it could be easily looked through, if not for the delicate flowers arranged within it and the light dancing off it’s edges, casting rainbows across the room.
You were a vase that held it all,
and at the very top, bud of rose.
Tipped over, and even poured out,
no one could decipher the load.
You were a puzzle, and so was I;
and even masters of great intellect
couldn’t solve us. Why try?
Please let the day be gentle,
and let the ravens fly along side.
I just want to help you get your vase clear,
so your flower will not have to hide.
“Did you break my vase?” Teresa asked her oldest son, Charlie.
“No, Mom,” he replied. “It was Jason!”
“Did you break my vase?” Teresa asked her middle son, Jason.
“No, Mom,” he replied. “It was Sheryl!”
“Don’t even bother asking me, Mom,” Sheryl snapped from behind the screen of her laptop before Teresa could even speak. “Charlie and Jason drank Dad’s beer and crashed your vase while singing along loudly to Queen’s ‘Bohemian Rhapsody.’ Filmed the whole thing,”
For some reason he has it sitting on the table. She doesn’t know why because flowers don’t grow here, so the only thing he’s keeping in it is air, and it’s so unlike him to do something impractical like that. But there it is, blue and fluted, translucent like a little vein arching through the room towards the ceiling, bloodflow.
She jumps when he comes in. “Oh -” Sorry.
The glass of the vase was squeaky clean, much to her chagrin. The enormous vase was the only thing separating her from her obnoxious little sister. Her sister was in the throes of middle school and her personality left much to be desired.
The roses were beautiful. They sat in an antique crystal vase on the window sill catching the bright sunlight. She wasn’t sure who had sent the roses to her. Apparently she had a secret admire. Still, the roses fit perfectly with her vase that belonged to her great grandmother and put a bright spot in her apartment.
Keira stares at the vase. The flower design is bright, marred by a massive crack down the center. It’s been like that since she was a kid and even before that, when it sat in her grandmother’s house. Someday, Keira knows it will sit in her own house.
The flowers it holds, the only little bit of beauty brightening the small and dark dungeon. It wasn’t actually a dungeon, but he felt that way, trapped in the small building all the time. The colours constantly rotating through the seasons were the only way to realise time was passing.
There was a knock on the door that snapped Anna out of her deep thoughts. She got up off the couch and opened the door. it was a florist with a bouquet of roses. The strange thing was, there was no name from the sender.