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Netherlands x Reader - Tulips You looked proudly at your front yard. It was your pride and joy, filled with almost every tulip know to man. Your yard was an explosion of color that was went unopposed. Well, almost. There was only one garden that could match up to yours. His.

You had moved here five years ago and brought your love of gardening, especially tulips, with you. Soon you discovered, however, that you were only second best to him.

"Goedemorgen, (Name)," an annoyingly kind voice called. You turned to find your cute Dutch neighbor out watering his lawn this morning too. His blond hair deifying gravity and slightly ruffled from sleep. You blushed at how amazingNetherlands x Reader - Tulips11 months ago in Short Stories

The Reassurance of GreenIt was Ella's idea to hire a gardener for my mother's tulips.

"I've been doing fine with them," I had said, a little surprised at the sudden suggestion. My sister had looked pointedly at the small patch of tulips that had previously encompassed the whole side yard. They were already dying, and the bulbs would have to be planted again soon. I had been planning an intense Internet search for that.

"I'd like to see you do better," I had muttered, but agreed nonetheless. I left the actual hiring to my sister, though.

Which led me to this moment, staring at a stranger on my doorstep and hoping rather desperately that there had been a mistake anThe Reassurance of Green6 months ago in Short Stories

To Kill A Mocking BirdIt’s a sin to kill a mockingbird
A father warns his kin
They don’t ruin your garden
No, all they do is sing

Shoot all the blue jays you want
That’s if you can hit ‘em
But to shoot a mockingbird
That’s something to condemn

The little town of Maycomb
Absorbed within their ways
Full of prejudice and class
Under the suns heat haze

Isolated from the world
The townsfolk don’t do much
No cash to use or exchange
They’re very out of touch

But the town’s mood turns tart
As her father defends
A black man accused of rape
That he quickly befriends

The little town of Maycomb
The news spreads likTo Kill A Mocking Bird4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms

Of Willows and Tulips There is an old legend about the willow tree in the center of the local park, one that leaves some in tears, others bitter, and most feeling grateful for what they have in their lives. You see, the tree is a willow and as many of the old women will tell you, it's branches hang in such a way that it appears to be weeping. They will tell you, that the tree was planted as memorial for the mourning of a pair of young lovers. To further symbolize the life of those lovers, every year, yellow and red tulips bloom all around the tree, never crossing, never mixing their colours together.

The legend, as it was told to me, began with two young boys, Of Willows and Tulips3 years ago in Introductions & Chapters

Grave RosesDon't rest roses on my grave,

trail of bouquet that you pave.

Vibrant death, ignorantly conveyed,

leading too, my buried cave.

What flowers, my love, have you brought today?

Daises?

Soil in dead eyes, all to grainy.

Tulips?

Memory waning, soon to forget.

Poppies?

A bold quartet, pedals of debt.

Ah, a rose?

Don't mask your woe, we both know,

I am gone, grown so cold.

Fading marrow, in my bones.

Corpse alone, parted soul.

May I love, be so bold?

Do not,

let your heart bleed,

forever sorrow, forever grieve.

Let me be.

And on my grave, let grow weeds.

Don't rest roses on my grave.

Grave Roses1 month ago in Traditional Fixed Forms

What the Eagle Doesn't Know

My daughter, do you know
What the eagle searches for?
My daughter, do you ever wonder
Why does he take to the sky every day?
And returns only when his goal proves too high?

I can show you what he longs to find
If you trust me.
The halls of heaven,
The paths among the stars.
Worlds and wonders
Beyond what even the eagle can know.

You can fly as he does, my daughter.
I can show you, if you trust me.
For I can carry you on my wings
Higher than the tallest cloud,
Beyond the farthest star.

But, my daughter, it hurts me to say,
I cannot come all the way to you.
I can almost touch you,
But you have to take the last step yourself.
What the Eagle Doesn't Know2 years ago in Concrete Poetry

The poem about tulips.I resent the rose.
Nothing angers me more than a flower
that acts like every teenage wannabe
in every barely-there mini skirt,
screaming pathetic lines such as,

“Look at me!”
“I’m so pretty!”
“Love me!”

It’s disgusting.

I don’t need the priceless gems of this world-
Give me the beautiful, polished stones
that may not sparkle as brightly,
but possess a smooth, natural beauty
that anyone can look at with approval,
and not insecurity.

I don’t need a rose.
Give me a tulip.

Give me the crisp, folding petals,
rather than brown messes.

Give me the colours that shine through the The poem about tulips.4 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word

its only words 4 years ago in Visual & Found Poetry

Ask and You Shall RecieveI asked for strength
He gave me trials to make me strong
I asked for wisdom
He gave me problems to solve
I asked for peace
He gave me conflicts to settle
I asked for answers
He asked me questions
I asked for joy
He showed me His Creation
I asked for love
He opened His arms
I asked for forgiveness
He gave me His SonAsk and You Shall Recieve2 years ago in Free Verse

Yellow haikuWind catches
the yellow sail
of the tulipYellow haiku5 years ago in Haiku & Eastern

~Taboo~ *Mathematician!England X Artist!Reader*~Taboo~

*Mathematician!England X Artist!Reader*

*Arthur's P.O.V*

Sometimes I asked myself if it was really worth.That maybe I shouldn't interfere with the natural flow.That it happened because it was supposed to and I'm not able to change it,nor could I have been back then.
Some might find this nonsense.I wouldn't blame them for naming my way of reassuring insane,neither would I blame them for calling me insane.
When I was younger - and way younger,I may add - a certain someone told me humans are humans because they ask.
That human existence is a big question mark as we are uncertain of things - which we want to find out or not.
That human~Taboo~ *Mathematician!England X Artist!Reader*7 months ago in Short Stories

Tulips say more than roses.You told me I was beautiful.

"You seem more like a
rose everytime I see you."

I smiled and looked up
through my eyelashes in the
way that you said made me
look like an Arabian princess,
but I couldn't help to think
that a rose may not exactly
be something that I want
to be compared to.

When I think of roses, I think
of seduction and deception
and false hope, I wonder if
that's how you think of me.

And you say that you're used
to getting hurt, but I guess
it's really no wonder if you're
seeking out girls with rose
petal faces and holding thorn
hands; no matter what you
say, petals will always fade,
and thorns will alwaTulips say more than roses.4 years ago in Free Verse

Yellow Tulips

I bought myself
yellow tulips
to go with my
blue tablecloth
because
they made me happy
in a way
you never couldYellow Tulips5 years ago in Other

tulipsonce bright colors
flourishing openly

gazed at the sun,
sun in the center

closing up to rest
drooping a bit at night

stretching up
to greet the sun

a smile in a room
still withers away

dead bulbs
in a bucket

unwatered
no nutrition

left in a corner
not even looked at

when lo, before my eyes
a green point rose

among the empty shells -
life among the dead!

things grow quietly
without you knowing

rising new urgency
to run and fetch some water

hopeful anticipation
to see another smile

lighting up the room
it's worth every efforttulips3 months ago in Free Verse

She opened her eyes slowly, not yet wanting to be free from slumber's lulling grip. As her eyelids slid back - each one taking just a moment too long - a startling pair of hazels that kept staring right on back at her was revealed. With a drowsy slur, those eyes seemed to tell her, "Welcome to the world, beautiful."

And she truly felt the part; for that unspoken expression of acquiescence unraveled all the sadness of her colorless world. From the moment those eyelids had peeled back, the black and white she once knew had become a blinding spectrum of color.

Before her mind could grasp the affection, her two lips had formed into a sort of Tulips6 years ago in Short Stories

~Gelukkig kerstfeest~ *Netherlands X Reader*~Prettig kerstfeest~

*Daddy!Netherlands X Mommy!Reader X Child!Fem!Belgium X Child!Male!Belgium*

'Drabble #11 from 'All I want for Christmas' series'

The fluffy white bunny shivered at the bubbly's girl touch,the blonde boy giving him a symphatetic look as if the non talking being could actually understand him.The flock of white jumped out of Bella's lap and landed on (Daughter's Name) frilly pink dress,causing the said girl to gasp in surprise.
Peeking one ruby red orb out of the mass of soft pink,the girl's gaze softened and a cute smile was placed onto her features as she started caressing with her thumbs the top of the bunny's head,who~Gelukkig kerstfeest~ *Netherlands X Reader*6 months ago in Short Stories

God's Kryptonite

Reason negates spirituality, yielding God's surrender.God's Kryptonite2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes

The weakness of tulipsA week in passing, each day a flourish
of gardens emerging from my wrists,

an entire silence of days in the shape
of hands.  Words like drained wine bottles spin
and whistle on the linoleum.

In my rooms I am happiest.
In the single atheistic blossom
of winter I dance the longest.  Along
the empty shore, up and down the lines of night,

I am more fully myself, more completely
the invention of blood in my body.

Look out from the starved light of an ancestor;
feel origin curve from the bottom of a cup;
watch for the gesturing zodiac.

Be aware of the other side of the moon,
of the invisible quartersThe weakness of tulips2 years ago in Free Verse

Tulips - PoemFlower fell to the ground as I looked up
My breath taken away, having lost that tulip
But your eyes met mine, and my hand slipped
Holding on to your hand, the tightened grip

And I, understand why I can’t try, to move, when you’re in the room
I can feel my heart go, boom, boom, boom

Never thought I would fall for a guy like you
You’re a smooth customer, but your eyes are so blue
And you seem to change who you are when you look at me, you’re so sweet
Like the flower on the ground, your heart fell at my feet

And I, understand why I can’t try, to move, when you’re in the room
I know right now I’m dooTulips - Poem4 years ago in Free Verse

Senescencei cannot stand
to care any longer
for the daylilies you gave me
last spring. they fill my garden,
a scorch of nauseous amber
over the rust-red hum
of pansies and mums.
in any other mood,
in any other season,

but the leaves
are loud and the petals too crowded,
the roots choke the soil from beneath,
and i number my days by their stems,
grown long as a pause before speech,
insistent as thought before sleep,

and i wonder
if they know they will die.Senescence2 years ago in Free Verse

Shiny ThingsIt was so strange, having the magi in our home. I had grown used to strange things, or at least as much as I could have. The same strange thing rarely happens twice, so it's rather hard to grow accustomed to.

But here they were, bowing before my little son, and presenting him with gifts meant for a king.

Jesus was just beginning to walk, and he did it with a confidence far beyond his skill. So, when he stood up to go investigate these curious men, he promptly overbalanced and fell to his bottom. Undeterred, he pushed himself up and tried again. When he got close enough, he sat down right next to the gold box and began inspecting it, enShiny Things1 year ago in Stories & Vignettes

Petals"He loves me, he loves me not," Edward whispered.
Petals falling slowly, floating in the light breeze.
Thoughts of the lover he left behind in Amestris hovering in his mind.
Blissful nights spent together, soft kisses exchanged after work and during dates, playful banter in the office on rainy days…
The happiness on Roy's scared face when Edward came back to save Amestris. The sadness, heartache, and understanding when Edward told him that he had to return, and when he had turned and went back into the foreign airship.
"He loves me, he loves me not," The once bright and fully blossomed daisy, was now holding few petals, as EdwaPetals3 years ago in Short Stories

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