Treasure Island

shimon weinroth


Monopolized


Monopolized

I love flowers
but she loves them more
I enjoy buying flowers
She enjoys receiving them

I don't always choose
The ones I like best
The price has something
To do with that

I can't explain why flowers
And the world of flora
seem more sacred to her

Her affinity of tender affections
To growth and creation
Stimulate her special rhythm of happiness

On bringing flowers
I always get a smile a kiss a hug
She never buys me flowers
I wonder why

Shimon Weinroth

Submitted: Friday, June 23, 2006
Edited: Monday, August 09, 2010
Listen to this poem:

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Monopolized by shimon weinroth )

Enter the verification code :

  • Dee Daffodil (6/23/2006 2:02:00 PM)

    Flowers are good! ! Poem is very well written...tell her you want flowers too!
    Hugs,
    Dee (Report) Reply

Read all 1 comments »

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. Wonderful World, fareha fatima
  2. COPLA 88 INVOCATION: This Bad Guy World, T (no first name) Wignesan
  3. Nature's Law, Asit Kumar Sanyal
  4. Irritation Of Gestures, Naveed Akram
  5. OVER THE ROCK OF SUICIDE فوق صخرة الانتحار, MOHAMMAD SKATI
  6. Just For the Record, Joyce Sutphen
  7. lonely wanderer, The lonely wanderer
  8. The day my angel died, whole world cried, The lonely wanderer
  9. the day I get to call you mine, The lonely wanderer
  10. No goal, hasmukh amathalal

Poem of the Day

poet Henry Lawson


The old year went, and the new returned, in the withering weeks of drought,
The cheque was spent that the shearer earned,
and the sheds were all cut out;
...... Read complete »

   

Member Poem

[Hata Bildir]