purty. girls in floaty dresses pick them. big companies sell toilet paper with them on the label. glad candles are said to this smell. which is not a smell, really. sister of butterfly, that girl who lived in the tree. song about a pony who died from the 70s
Betty
wildflowers are pretty. Well, depending on the wildflower. I would like to plant some wildflowers. They remind me of old time movies and people running through a field of flowers. Crazy, I know. I love flowers in general.
Emily
wildflowers are flowers I guess. I want him to write back, why oh nevermind he just did. right. bar. fun. well hopefully I will be able to see him tomorrow. cooking. arg. time.
vamps
i love wildflowers. there should be more in the world. sunflowers are actually my favorite flower. but i love sitting in fields of flowers and just watching the clouds go by. we take pictures in flower fields and they are always so pretty. i love being in nature. just being around what is given to us.
tiffany wormhoudt
i really like flowers there pretty one time when i was little my father turned up all the grass in my front yard and planted a whole ton of wildflowers it was so pretty i wish he would do it more often i mean we dont really get along and i miss my best friend but back to flowers i mean it would be awesome if there were more because citys dont have that many and its sad
john
My brain is like a field of wildflowers. There are many colors there. It’s all jumbled together you never know what you’ll find in there.
Heather
a wildflower
is really pretty in the field
i love those really, they’re great. I love to use them in flower arrangements and i see them all the time in fields and stuff. I love the colors, they’re so pretty, like i said.
Kathy Zink
wildflowers, wildflowers
swaying, singing
mini cities on their petals
little civilizations we
shall never know about
the magic of not being alone
in the universe
elizabeth
Beauty, freedom, wind blowing, yellow, nature. This flower is the most beautiful of all. If is rare but worth the search. It in untamed and untainted. It is what I wish to be. A beautiful, free, innocent, flower.
Alma
Wildflower how wild you are with your slim line petals and your bright sunshiny summerish colors I love you ole feild of wildflower. I cannot express my love in 1 minute. As much as I wish to pluck you i know that I cannot. Unfortunatly even though I love you so.
Kelsey
dog
nana
The wildflowers grow over and over throughout the miles and minutes of the prarie. Really the bends in the stems is the most impressive part; however, no one sees them. The remain like nothingness, like a slow moving ocean wrapping through the minute particles they break. Say when you see me. Say when you see the wildflowers glow.
W.A.
Beautiful. Big open mountain tops with rolling green fields. Amazing bursts of color dotting whatever may be around it. Purity. Innocent. Purely good. Fragrance, home. cabins in the mountains.
Abigail
wildflower.
i called upon a bluebell
yesterday
one whos petals
were full of blue ink
i called upon imagination
yesterday
Sarah
I am the wildflower. I play. I Sing. I Dance. I’m crazy. I’m odd. Weird. Strange. Bizarre. Different in my own way. Special. Unpredictable. Happy. I am the wildflower. And I say Hi.
Mar
there was a single wildflwoer, it grew and grew and grew, it pushed up against the glass window for every second of sunshine. it grew and grew and one day its pot was full and it died. a wildflower. the end.
rebecca smith
I always liked the idea of wildflowers in the backyard. My family- bent on perfection- never agreed, but all I ever wanted was to stop mowing the lawn, scatter some seeds, and let nature take its course. The colors- I could imagine the colors of the flowers, popping against the dry brown of the desert grass. I could see the butterflies and bees and birds that would make homes there. But instead, when I look in my backyard, I see a product of pure suburbia- trees, perfectly mowed green grass, barkdust edging. And I ask myself- why do humans strive to be just like everyone else?
Anastasia
Don;t know anything avout them. When i see this word nothing comes to mind but a rare flower.
Anna
I was out in a field searching for the perfect one. I wanted just one. It would be the symbol of my day. It would be the beauty that rested inside and outside. I would be reminded of all that is right with the world.
Julie
wildflowers are beautiful and I love it in spring when they bloom along the highway. It makes me feel like spring is officially here. I love all the colors they bring into the world like yellow and purple and orange and red. Some of the most beautiful colors you will ever see in your life. It makes me feel human again especially after seeing so many dead things all winter long around me. It brings new life into the world and makes it beautiful again after the long hard frost.
Angela
I see them in rare frequency. Can I appreciate it? Sure. But I leave that job to somebody that knows more about wildflowers. I barely know anything about plants.
End of story.
Delta
the beauty was boundless. He was wncanted, in love with this one being. Who is this being, you ask? She was a wildflower, Queen Anne’s Lace, a beautifully delicate manifestation of the beauty of nature. He stood there, enraptured with the spectacle.
Elizabeth
the flowers outside my window were never meant to be there. they came on their own, floating hopefully across the blue sky. They planted themselves in a most beautiful pattern that pleases the eye… and how i love those wild flowers.
Alyssa
wild flower growing in the field so free and lovely. how many wild flowers for me to see? How lovely your colors so vivid so many so wild. take me into your field of gold of yellow of purple haze and make me a beliver in God’s precious creation…….
Ruth
swifty the wind rushed accross the meadow. The incoming storm was growing and the delicate wildflowers were being torn from their roots. quickly Anne went out and plucked her purple violet. safe from the storm.
katada
All I see is a field of wildflowers. My mother used to grow wildflowers in the back yard. It was always pleasing to me to wake up early in the spring and stand out there for a few seconds before I made my way to school. It seemed to be a little piece of paradise that kept me going when things would start to weigh me down.
Shoughn Nettles
wildflower growing in the gutter of my house frightening away the draining storms before wildflower washes away.
M
and the wildflowers poured through me like a rain of fire in my flesh they surrounded me until there was not a bit of vacant room for me to breath, i soon felt suffocated by the flowers, attempting to escape
catalina
i saw a wildflower in the fields one day, i picked it and so it soon died. that got me to thinking about my family members who have died. They all kind of pissed me off anyway so who really cares. lets kill everyone who is a dumbass, or if they are too old….that’s the same as being a dumbass don’t you think. I think people want to be something they are not.
sherm
wildflowers usually aren’t very pretty. dandelions are a really common wild flower, I like kicking them when the seeds are all showing to watch the seeds fly everywhere. I don’t like flowers on clovers because they attract bees.
ryan
smell the zones of decency
be thrown into a pool of leniency
the garbage of the world is all around
we wallow in the aftermath
of what was once a field of
wildflowers
we think wekn
Joseph
free as a bird in a meadow. peacful and almost magical lets notheing get in its way. Will grow almost about anywere and takes down anything in its path.
jen
i am a wildflower. i grow, you pick me. it’s against the law, but no one really minds. you put me in a vase and fill it with water, and hope that i’ll last at least a few days to brighten your desk. but i wilt, longing for the caress of the tall grasses. i thirst for the morning dew, and try to find my dancing partner; the breeze. but you keep me to add color to the life that you’ve drained to gray.
sivan
color, inner child, park, castles, spending time with friends, secret meadow, freedom, dancing, beauty and grace, happiness
danielle emrick
Wildflowers had utterly concealed the ruins of my home. The scorched remains littered the ground, but they were not powerful enough to escape nature’s embrace. Seeing the site of the place I had called home consumed by nature was both comforting and disturbing.
Luna Castro
Masses of these multi-colored miracles rock and sway in the Indian Summer breeze. The humidity that choked them for so long, smothering their petals with disillusionment and disdain, is beginning to thin. Dissipating into the beautiful brutal truth of fall. As the air molecules spread apart, their life lines are freed, their breath is released. Their tension takes off, stemming an oxymoronical rebirth at the prewritten ending. The cold winds are coming in, and soon the trees’ multi-colored miracles too will be stripped from their branches, leaving empty, honest space.
And in this space the true miracle will happen. The miracle of the soul writing a new beginning.
Tina
a big flower that grows in the wild.
the type of flower used in the west for baking.
Flowers for decoration.
wlid
crazy
bright
interestin.
jasmyn
deep in a meadow,
I shot bambi,
he landed on a wildflower,
they both died,
the end
nonayour bizness
ah that sunny day.
yes, that day we spent together
running amongst the fields
decorated by wildflowers.
yes, that day we spent laughing.
that day that we spent together.
that was the day
that i fell in love with you
the day that you became
my very own
wildflower.
alyssa
The wildflowers in the field were incredibly beautiful and diverse. They reminded me of a summer afternoon in my youth when my mother was cooking lunch while I sat amongst the wildflowers near our home. It brings back great memories and causes me even after all these years to be homesick for that time in my life.
purty. girls in floaty dresses pick them. big companies sell toilet paper with them on the label. glad candles are said to this smell. which is not a smell, really. sister of butterfly, that girl who lived in the tree. song about a pony who died from the 70s
wildflowers are pretty. Well, depending on the wildflower. I would like to plant some wildflowers. They remind me of old time movies and people running through a field of flowers. Crazy, I know. I love flowers in general.
wildflowers are flowers I guess. I want him to write back, why oh nevermind he just did. right. bar. fun. well hopefully I will be able to see him tomorrow. cooking. arg. time.
i love wildflowers. there should be more in the world. sunflowers are actually my favorite flower. but i love sitting in fields of flowers and just watching the clouds go by. we take pictures in flower fields and they are always so pretty. i love being in nature. just being around what is given to us.
i really like flowers there pretty one time when i was little my father turned up all the grass in my front yard and planted a whole ton of wildflowers it was so pretty i wish he would do it more often i mean we dont really get along and i miss my best friend but back to flowers i mean it would be awesome if there were more because citys dont have that many and its sad
My brain is like a field of wildflowers. There are many colors there. It’s all jumbled together you never know what you’ll find in there.
a wildflower
is really pretty in the field
i love those really, they’re great. I love to use them in flower arrangements and i see them all the time in fields and stuff. I love the colors, they’re so pretty, like i said.
wildflowers, wildflowers
swaying, singing
mini cities on their petals
little civilizations we
shall never know about
the magic of not being alone
in the universe
Beauty, freedom, wind blowing, yellow, nature. This flower is the most beautiful of all. If is rare but worth the search. It in untamed and untainted. It is what I wish to be. A beautiful, free, innocent, flower.
Wildflower how wild you are with your slim line petals and your bright sunshiny summerish colors I love you ole feild of wildflower. I cannot express my love in 1 minute. As much as I wish to pluck you i know that I cannot. Unfortunatly even though I love you so.
dog
The wildflowers grow over and over throughout the miles and minutes of the prarie. Really the bends in the stems is the most impressive part; however, no one sees them. The remain like nothingness, like a slow moving ocean wrapping through the minute particles they break. Say when you see me. Say when you see the wildflowers glow.
Beautiful. Big open mountain tops with rolling green fields. Amazing bursts of color dotting whatever may be around it. Purity. Innocent. Purely good. Fragrance, home. cabins in the mountains.
wildflower.
i called upon a bluebell
yesterday
one whos petals
were full of blue ink
i called upon imagination
yesterday
I am the wildflower. I play. I Sing. I Dance. I’m crazy. I’m odd. Weird. Strange. Bizarre. Different in my own way. Special. Unpredictable. Happy. I am the wildflower. And I say Hi.
there was a single wildflwoer, it grew and grew and grew, it pushed up against the glass window for every second of sunshine. it grew and grew and one day its pot was full and it died. a wildflower. the end.
I always liked the idea of wildflowers in the backyard. My family- bent on perfection- never agreed, but all I ever wanted was to stop mowing the lawn, scatter some seeds, and let nature take its course. The colors- I could imagine the colors of the flowers, popping against the dry brown of the desert grass. I could see the butterflies and bees and birds that would make homes there. But instead, when I look in my backyard, I see a product of pure suburbia- trees, perfectly mowed green grass, barkdust edging. And I ask myself- why do humans strive to be just like everyone else?
Don;t know anything avout them. When i see this word nothing comes to mind but a rare flower.
I was out in a field searching for the perfect one. I wanted just one. It would be the symbol of my day. It would be the beauty that rested inside and outside. I would be reminded of all that is right with the world.
wildflowers are beautiful and I love it in spring when they bloom along the highway. It makes me feel like spring is officially here. I love all the colors they bring into the world like yellow and purple and orange and red. Some of the most beautiful colors you will ever see in your life. It makes me feel human again especially after seeing so many dead things all winter long around me. It brings new life into the world and makes it beautiful again after the long hard frost.
I see them in rare frequency. Can I appreciate it? Sure. But I leave that job to somebody that knows more about wildflowers. I barely know anything about plants.
End of story.
the beauty was boundless. He was wncanted, in love with this one being. Who is this being, you ask? She was a wildflower, Queen Anne’s Lace, a beautifully delicate manifestation of the beauty of nature. He stood there, enraptured with the spectacle.
the flowers outside my window were never meant to be there. they came on their own, floating hopefully across the blue sky. They planted themselves in a most beautiful pattern that pleases the eye… and how i love those wild flowers.
wild flower growing in the field so free and lovely. how many wild flowers for me to see? How lovely your colors so vivid so many so wild. take me into your field of gold of yellow of purple haze and make me a beliver in God’s precious creation…….
swifty the wind rushed accross the meadow. The incoming storm was growing and the delicate wildflowers were being torn from their roots. quickly Anne went out and plucked her purple violet. safe from the storm.
All I see is a field of wildflowers. My mother used to grow wildflowers in the back yard. It was always pleasing to me to wake up early in the spring and stand out there for a few seconds before I made my way to school. It seemed to be a little piece of paradise that kept me going when things would start to weigh me down.
wildflower growing in the gutter of my house frightening away the draining storms before wildflower washes away.
and the wildflowers poured through me like a rain of fire in my flesh they surrounded me until there was not a bit of vacant room for me to breath, i soon felt suffocated by the flowers, attempting to escape
i saw a wildflower in the fields one day, i picked it and so it soon died. that got me to thinking about my family members who have died. They all kind of pissed me off anyway so who really cares. lets kill everyone who is a dumbass, or if they are too old….that’s the same as being a dumbass don’t you think. I think people want to be something they are not.
wildflowers usually aren’t very pretty. dandelions are a really common wild flower, I like kicking them when the seeds are all showing to watch the seeds fly everywhere. I don’t like flowers on clovers because they attract bees.
smell the zones of decency
be thrown into a pool of leniency
the garbage of the world is all around
we wallow in the aftermath
of what was once a field of
wildflowers
we think wekn
free as a bird in a meadow. peacful and almost magical lets notheing get in its way. Will grow almost about anywere and takes down anything in its path.
i am a wildflower. i grow, you pick me. it’s against the law, but no one really minds. you put me in a vase and fill it with water, and hope that i’ll last at least a few days to brighten your desk. but i wilt, longing for the caress of the tall grasses. i thirst for the morning dew, and try to find my dancing partner; the breeze. but you keep me to add color to the life that you’ve drained to gray.
color, inner child, park, castles, spending time with friends, secret meadow, freedom, dancing, beauty and grace, happiness
Wildflowers had utterly concealed the ruins of my home. The scorched remains littered the ground, but they were not powerful enough to escape nature’s embrace. Seeing the site of the place I had called home consumed by nature was both comforting and disturbing.
Masses of these multi-colored miracles rock and sway in the Indian Summer breeze. The humidity that choked them for so long, smothering their petals with disillusionment and disdain, is beginning to thin. Dissipating into the beautiful brutal truth of fall. As the air molecules spread apart, their life lines are freed, their breath is released. Their tension takes off, stemming an oxymoronical rebirth at the prewritten ending. The cold winds are coming in, and soon the trees’ multi-colored miracles too will be stripped from their branches, leaving empty, honest space.
And in this space the true miracle will happen. The miracle of the soul writing a new beginning.
a big flower that grows in the wild.
the type of flower used in the west for baking.
Flowers for decoration.
wlid
crazy
bright
interestin.
deep in a meadow,
I shot bambi,
he landed on a wildflower,
they both died,
the end
ah that sunny day.
yes, that day we spent together
running amongst the fields
decorated by wildflowers.
yes, that day we spent laughing.
that day that we spent together.
that was the day
that i fell in love with you
the day that you became
my very own
wildflower.
The wildflowers in the field were incredibly beautiful and diverse. They reminded me of a summer afternoon in my youth when my mother was cooking lunch while I sat amongst the wildflowers near our home. It brings back great memories and causes me even after all these years to be homesick for that time in my life.