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Untangling their entwined fingers, they reach for the blue. A kaleidoscope of wet splashes blurring the horizon red, purple, yellow, orange, blue.
By Mr. Sunflower on 07.29.2013
The sloes hang on the blackthorn plump and purple n the special August light. Some were beginning to get the sort of bloom you get on fancy chocolates when they have been saved uneaten for too long. They were ripe to be plucked and she set to.
By Bunty on 07.29.2013
I had this word last time I tried. It would be wrong for you to supply the same word all the time. Firstly I thought about blooming into the spring but that is just pretty lame. I only associate that word with flowers. I wonder why that is so typical. If tomorrow the flowers bloom and I think of blossom again that will not be a good thing! Will you tell me when 60 seconds is up or will I just keep writing until the cows eat the flowers from the garden.
I see how it works the timer ticks and the flowers grow. Get a job and a car and don’t think of flowers
By Doug on 07.29.2013
morning bloomed like madness behind the treeline and she thought of all the things that had to be done and all the things that should not be done and she was done.
By amygdala on 07.29.2013
flowers giving growth and hope. nature. optimism. from a single seed optimism flows. hope returns . the cycle continues. It runs and runs.
By JY on 07.29.2013
I have finally bloomed. Its been way too long since I have done anything other than hide my light under a bushel but I am finally coming into my own again, finally shining my light before men so that my Father in heaven can be praised!
By Tracey on 07.29.2013
the light bloomed at the same time as the sparrows. Housemates were assembling bicycles for long journeys but Kirsti was wanted to sleep a few minutes more, free from the guilt of being left behind in the muesli-laden rush of dawn
By Kirsti on 07.29.2013
There was silence as everyone stared at the sky. They watched it fall. And from the ground it arose, like a huge orange flower had just bloomed.
By sitara URL on 07.29.2013
I ran through the field of blooming daisies, the sound of catastrophe chasing after me. I dared not look back for I feared that if I did that it may be my worst fear. Nevertheless, I looked back. There was nothing, but I heard noises. As I stopped running I realised that the noise was just me running through the field of the white, light pink flowers and soon I calmed down. I then just stood there, admiring the scene I was in.
By Kahlin on 07.29.2013
The spring had long come and gone, and none of Marissa’s tulips had bloomed. She had tried to be brave about it. It had been a harsh winter for many plants, and it was hubris to hope hers would be some magical exceptions. The tulips that had managed to make it into the final stages of their lives were few and far between that year. Still, it was heartbreaking to go a whole spring without the happy sight of her favorite flowers lined up against the siding of her house.
By hannah URL on 07.29.2013
right after the flowers bloomed
the princess continuing to be doomed
as i see a green light in miss G’s eyes
lying there all of her lies
the cracks, the faults, the sins
wafted up since the desire begins
no one could easily escape
when the monster began to rape
By Eligia V. A. on 07.29.2013
Viele Blumen, zumindest glaube ich, dass dieses Wort das bedeutet…. Ein Garten mit einer kleinen Brücke, die über einen Fluss führt. Jede Menge bunte Blumen aus aller Welt, zum Beispiel Japan.
By Ich on 07.29.2013
She bloomed as she got older, but it wasn’t like a rose blooming or a magnolia or anything sweet and fragrant. It was more like a weed blooming: she flowered, all right, but her flowering was small and insignificant, while the rest of her sprawled and rambled and got into places it shouldn’t have been.
By mrsmig on 07.29.2013
What bloomed overnight in the sleepy city was truly a sight: red, petals like flexible steel, and white stamen springing to the touch. We approached with adoration, with curiosity, but not with trepidation. How foolish.
By RS Bohn URL on 07.29.2013
Standing at the mouth of the cave, he watched the sun rise. The light, dripping honey and gold, filtered through the forest. At the first touch of sunlight, the flowers bloomed. The sun rose now toward the top of the hill, and when it reached the summit, the tiger leaped down from the sky, bounced off the top of the hill, and with a final bound flew through the air and landed at his feet.
“Right then,” he said, climbing onto the tiger’s back, “where to today?”
By Anthony StClair on 07.29.2013
Open your eyes – feel the colours. In your mind there is a garden, and when you love, the flowers open up, the earth dances and stones move. You aren’t alone in this universe. We all work on this space together – when we see people as they are – when we know them in our hearts – thats when we can truly grow. Thats when we bloom.
By pj on 07.29.2013
why is it i never feel that tingling
that feeling that i’ve done right
because underneath the mingling
of smiles and eyes all bright
i feel like what I want to see myself become
is wasted and lost under my bed
along with my journals and socks and some
things that i thought were dead
By Octowhat on 07.29.2013
I KEEP DOING THE SAME WORD AND IT WON’T LET ME SUBMIT MMMMGHGGHGH.
there is no love that did not spring first
from the corpse of something else
an innocent childhood, a flowering career,
a dead spouse? same difference
By h. b. on 07.29.2013
The bloomers billowed bonnily beneath the bodice of the bashful blooming body named Boli.
By Caitlyn on 07.29.2013
Sometime between opening my eyes this morning and the words pouring back in to my brain it happened. I saw it through the window as I woke. There was a scene and movement, even the sounds seemed to be shapes in my brain. It was only with words that the meaning bloomed and I could pull it into a series, a sequence of events.Did I make up cause and effect,or was it there and I read it afterwards?
By Meredyth URL on 07.29.2013
the desire bloomed from a deep shadowy place. a place where shadows grew into vague yet daunting figures with the tone of devouring and disposing. the blooming desire was the saving grace in that place.
By Safon on 07.29.2013
I let myself sink into the ground. I rooted. Mind began to clear. Things dripped away from me. Emotions. Wants. When I stood up I felt as if I was beginning to bloom. Up, up, up through places I forgot it was worth to keep reaching for.
By Michelle on 07.29.2013
Everyone thinks of flowers when the word “bloom” is used. But me, me I like to think of stains. As liquid spills onto a clean fabric, the stain will bloom outwards, spreading like a virus until it consumes as much as possible.
By KT on 07.29.2013
The flowers bloomed. A simple reminder that the world still turned; I watched the sun rise and saw the morning glories open to receive its warmth, excited for a new day, while I lay there, sickened by the whole process. Would I ever sleep again?
By Anton on 07.29.2013
a fleck of dust and a drop of water, sitting delicately but poised in position the droplet filled the composition. And yet again although it was beautiful in all its full bloomed essence, how can it be witnessed if done so alone?
By prickly cactus URL on 07.29.2013
She bloomed as I began to ask her those questions about herself.
By T1DSurfDad URL on 07.29.2013
She emerged through the door like a large animal in a smoky desert. She was more beautiful than I’d ever remembered or imagined. She was a dream come to life. She was, yet she wasn’t.
By Hannah on 07.29.2013
She opened up fully to the energies of love…
releasing all her fears and doubts
in ways she had not yet imagined she could.
She felt the power of love and beauty
awaken and unfold within her…
and she bloomed gracefully
and she bloomed fragrantly
and she bloomed abundantly
and she blossomed
into the woman she always knew she was.
By gypsypriestess on 07.29.2013
it bloomed, my love for her. it started off so small but grew fast and i couldnt stop it, but i didnt want to.
By Shakeel URL on 07.29.2013
She bloomed. So quick you could’ve missed it if you blinked. And just as soon as she saw her beauty, she was immediately crushed out and stamped down and told her beauty isn’t needed or wanted here. She hides. No longer blooming. Now stagnant. Decaying and dying.
By Scm on 07.29.2013
Her ideas jolted her as they bloomed into a sonorous, trumpet blast of energy, which were impossible to ignore. Like all good ideas arise, she knew that this explosion of thought was important and no one’s digress could cause her to turn away from this new enlightenment she bore.
By Birdie Fishie on 07.29.2013
“The flowers bloomed”, they say. but what is a bloom, what significance would it hold for me?
the bloom of a flower, while pretty lasts for only a day, after which it whither and dies; that is the thought that crosses my mind. death is the end of every beauty. Death of thought, of dreams, of desires, and of humanity.
By Maha AbuRumman on 07.29.2013
flowers bloom in the spring i like my blue hydrangeas. some are large and some are small. green flowers are beautiful also. ince flowers have bloomed they are dead
By jill on 07.29.2013
It was that time of year again, the time that everything bloomed and started to get pretty again. I thought that it would just have bloomed but I got so much more, I created a monster. It started as just a flower and then it all went south from there.
By Jess Sipos on 07.29.2013
a division of Identity Crisis, Inc.