It hung off the rich bark in the sweaty woods. It’s fragrance wafted towards me only once, but I knew it was there. That was enough. I climbed back down the ladder.
cox
White flowers on my white desk after my rabbit died. My bedroom still smelled like a barnyard. I’ll always think of her in late September.
r.a.
When I was young, I wandered from my grandparents house in the country near cape cod. I wandered and wandered, restless from family boredom, from distant relatives. Wandered and wandered, mindless and curious, until I happened upon a sunflower orchid. Damn, wrong word. I thought I’d read orchard.
dan
I had an orchid once that followed me home. Creeper! I turned and it said, “Got any weeds?” I said, “No, but my milky pajamas should help.” I ate him. Alas, parting is such sweet sorrow. I haven’t thought about that for a long time.
Jacob
Blossoming in the forest, the wild orchid grows. not knowing how big or how small or what color or how sweet it will smell. it simply grows. Purity in it’s truest form. Time is nothing to this flower. Only life.
Kaitlin Schafer
the orchid was her favorite flower, they were everywhere. I brought one to that dreadful event, everyone did, everyone knew how much Rachel loved orchid’s. Her mother accepted everyone of them with a painful smile, I couldn’t imagine, burrying your thirteen year old daughter…It must have been hard for the poor woman.
alley
beautiful and wasted
the processed image tasted
and the individuality taken
it turned me away,
and you into shame
in my memories
they serve me well
-this I’m remembering-
when I’m yearning
for your arms
Josh Miller
Orchid such an exotic flower. Always thought they were hard to keep as plants but really some of them are quite easy. Smell the sweet scent.
Chris G
it was something that could only be as delicate as her. the orchid that she held was laid and his feet like her heart.
jess
beautiful, I want to be there,yummy fruit, wait… is this the flower? Totally read it as orchard, Alright, well, orchid… I’m not even sure I know what an orchid looks like. Once I see a picture, it will click. Orchids… Cool name.
Ashley
I once dated a girl who loved orchids. She loved the flowers like most women love roses, to the point of cliche and beyond. They expensive, delicate flower was a “Get out of jail free” card, an act of instant forgiveness, the granting of which wasn’t as much out of love of the flower but rather out of my acknowledgement that I screwed up.
Jason Ramire
Orchids are beautiful, but they are very fragile, much like a girl. Yes, I am using the common analogy that a girl is like a flower, and yes, it’s insane to be doing so, but it’s true. Without enough water, she will wilt. Love is water, and without it, you are wilted and ugly. Simple.
Lizzie Bellows
the flower of the beu=aty of my life love and treasures live in a far away land that will some day be closer and the end will never be known
jules
the orchd floated down.
down to the strange dark pool.
the steely blue pool where bugs flitted around the surface and fish stayed low.
low where the warmth was.
warmth like the ground that gave the orchid
life.
danielle
And so we sat there for hours. nothing to do but fold paper into thirds and fourths and fifths and so on. we talked sometimes. today we didn’t say much. i made a flower, she made a bird. we were happy. we were young. we were forgotten.
shhhhhh
ah the orchid. plant of sky and moisture, everlasting bloom of wax. white, yellow, lavender and multi spotted. with you I am sometimes, besotted. the color, divine, oh orchid, you’re so fine.
newswoman
orchid is grown in not so clean environments. there are many varieties of them. they are beautiful. they dont have specific smell, i heard. grown on rocks and dirt, and so on.
surya
she gazed at it for a while. her head tilted to the side. and she wondered. she wondered why bees new that flowers were useful. and she wondered if anyone would ever look at the flower as closely as a bee does.
smh
orchids grow in my parents bathroom. They have a steam shower which she uses every day to keep from getting sick. So dad puts orchids there. It’s like a mini greenhouse full of blue and green tile and an expensive bathtub with jets.
Lizzy
Perhaps one of the worlds ugliest flowers… I honestly can’t think of a single redeeming quality for an orchid. They’re useless. Then again, most flowers are too, except as a key to a girl’s heart. But the point stands, they have not practical utility.
CxOrillion
so beautiful, so rained on. utterly alone, seemingly untouched. graceful and unpainted by anything but its own molecules of love and beauty which are only perceived by this small planet and those who even know what an orchid is. such a small thing, so lovely and delicate. the orchid is all that is seemingly sweet and inedible.
icatora
they always look so pretty at trader joes, but one by one the petals fall off and all you have left is bark and roots. there is a kind of orchid, called a ghost orchid, which lives rootlessly on the side of a tree. i think you can find them in the south. my landlord loves orchids.
nicole
The scarf I bought was a white gossamer number. Perfect for the role I was playing in the local production of “Touched by an Angel.” You can always count on finding something with just the right spiritual kitsch at Orchid Lane.
Linda
I knew what she was thinking when she picked it out: It was elegant, sophisticated, adult. I’m sure that somewhere in her mind she knew I hated white, had heard me talk of my love for tulips and roses and lilacs of the brightest hues, but that was either forgotten or irrelevant.
KB
and then there it was….in the deepest part of the forest, across the bubbling stream. The yellows and purples were shining in the sunshine, glistening over the water. Birds making their friendly call…..all was well in this wonderful spot, and would be…..all alone.
JanA
there was an orchid that blew in the wind. it was purple and wild. some girl picked it up and ate it. she then proceeded to explode and die. then her body parts turned into orchids. the orchids were then black. and then dragons came. and they burned the entire field and the smoke from them was inhaled and they died.
Anonymous
A single flower – it was all I had left to remind me. I wanted to pick it up, to see if any scent at all remained, but it was so dry and withered that I knew even the lightest touch would turn its faded white petals into a pile of pale ash.
KB
Stupid Plants.
x
weird plant malice anger confusion sadness tears. All of these things are what I ascociate with orchids, Those asscociations came to be in that order.
Anonymous
Je passai la main dans le bouquet qu’il venait de m’offrir et une orchid
McTernell
The everlasting orchid of life….is not so everlasting…a fragile thing….killed by the seasons….by fear….by consequence….and sacrificed by necessity….IF there is any way you ever hear my words please know that I don’t want to have to do this…I don’t want to sacrifice this beautiful orchid…but I am scared.
Anonymous
Peter walked into his orchid house and knew right away that something was wrong. It was nothing that anyone else would have noticed: the slight turn of a pot here, the skew of a tool there.
Susan
I always preferred roses to orchids
the sweet smell
but then they would wilt silently,
lost light
while your orchids would bloom endlessly
giving their middle fingers to the elements.
X
orchid
meg
Testicles. That is all I have to say about that.
Aloise
She worked in her garden even though her knees hurt when she knelt. She still worked in her garden everyday. It was her one true joy in her life. Now that her children were grown and gone and her husband had passed. She smells an orchid and smiles. These had been her husbands favorite flowers. That was the real reason she gardened.
Kristen
they toiled for hours and hours un end, seeking its bueaty hidden in all the dark swampy place, and finally, in an open little hole they saw it, with the light shinning down on it, you could see the purity of its white flower.
Anonymous
the orchid with green stems and giant red lips, frowning at me and sticking out its little yellow tongue. an ant crawled up the stem and into the sculpted chalice of the red lips and disappeared. i disappeared with it.
louisa
I love the mornings I wake up and find an orchid in full bloom just outside my window. Sometimes a pale violet, sometimes white.. sometimes, not there. :( But, oh when it is there, what joy. :) I love my
Pamposh
My breath turns to frost in the autumn air… white clouds rise from my throat. Leaves crunch beneath my feet. In the window a fragile orchid trembles, and my heart aches with longing and the tension of individuality.
It hung off the rich bark in the sweaty woods. It’s fragrance wafted towards me only once, but I knew it was there. That was enough. I climbed back down the ladder.
White flowers on my white desk after my rabbit died. My bedroom still smelled like a barnyard. I’ll always think of her in late September.
When I was young, I wandered from my grandparents house in the country near cape cod. I wandered and wandered, restless from family boredom, from distant relatives. Wandered and wandered, mindless and curious, until I happened upon a sunflower orchid. Damn, wrong word. I thought I’d read orchard.
I had an orchid once that followed me home. Creeper! I turned and it said, “Got any weeds?” I said, “No, but my milky pajamas should help.” I ate him. Alas, parting is such sweet sorrow. I haven’t thought about that for a long time.
Blossoming in the forest, the wild orchid grows. not knowing how big or how small or what color or how sweet it will smell. it simply grows. Purity in it’s truest form. Time is nothing to this flower. Only life.
the orchid was her favorite flower, they were everywhere. I brought one to that dreadful event, everyone did, everyone knew how much Rachel loved orchid’s. Her mother accepted everyone of them with a painful smile, I couldn’t imagine, burrying your thirteen year old daughter…It must have been hard for the poor woman.
beautiful and wasted
the processed image tasted
and the individuality taken
it turned me away,
and you into shame
in my memories
they serve me well
-this I’m remembering-
when I’m yearning
for your arms
Orchid such an exotic flower. Always thought they were hard to keep as plants but really some of them are quite easy. Smell the sweet scent.
it was something that could only be as delicate as her. the orchid that she held was laid and his feet like her heart.
beautiful, I want to be there,yummy fruit, wait… is this the flower? Totally read it as orchard, Alright, well, orchid… I’m not even sure I know what an orchid looks like. Once I see a picture, it will click. Orchids… Cool name.
I once dated a girl who loved orchids. She loved the flowers like most women love roses, to the point of cliche and beyond. They expensive, delicate flower was a “Get out of jail free” card, an act of instant forgiveness, the granting of which wasn’t as much out of love of the flower but rather out of my acknowledgement that I screwed up.
Orchids are beautiful, but they are very fragile, much like a girl. Yes, I am using the common analogy that a girl is like a flower, and yes, it’s insane to be doing so, but it’s true. Without enough water, she will wilt. Love is water, and without it, you are wilted and ugly. Simple.
the flower of the beu=aty of my life love and treasures live in a far away land that will some day be closer and the end will never be known
the orchd floated down.
down to the strange dark pool.
the steely blue pool where bugs flitted around the surface and fish stayed low.
low where the warmth was.
warmth like the ground that gave the orchid
life.
And so we sat there for hours. nothing to do but fold paper into thirds and fourths and fifths and so on. we talked sometimes. today we didn’t say much. i made a flower, she made a bird. we were happy. we were young. we were forgotten.
ah the orchid. plant of sky and moisture, everlasting bloom of wax. white, yellow, lavender and multi spotted. with you I am sometimes, besotted. the color, divine, oh orchid, you’re so fine.
orchid is grown in not so clean environments. there are many varieties of them. they are beautiful. they dont have specific smell, i heard. grown on rocks and dirt, and so on.
she gazed at it for a while. her head tilted to the side. and she wondered. she wondered why bees new that flowers were useful. and she wondered if anyone would ever look at the flower as closely as a bee does.
orchids grow in my parents bathroom. They have a steam shower which she uses every day to keep from getting sick. So dad puts orchids there. It’s like a mini greenhouse full of blue and green tile and an expensive bathtub with jets.
Perhaps one of the worlds ugliest flowers… I honestly can’t think of a single redeeming quality for an orchid. They’re useless. Then again, most flowers are too, except as a key to a girl’s heart. But the point stands, they have not practical utility.
so beautiful, so rained on. utterly alone, seemingly untouched. graceful and unpainted by anything but its own molecules of love and beauty which are only perceived by this small planet and those who even know what an orchid is. such a small thing, so lovely and delicate. the orchid is all that is seemingly sweet and inedible.
they always look so pretty at trader joes, but one by one the petals fall off and all you have left is bark and roots. there is a kind of orchid, called a ghost orchid, which lives rootlessly on the side of a tree. i think you can find them in the south. my landlord loves orchids.
The scarf I bought was a white gossamer number. Perfect for the role I was playing in the local production of “Touched by an Angel.” You can always count on finding something with just the right spiritual kitsch at Orchid Lane.
I knew what she was thinking when she picked it out: It was elegant, sophisticated, adult. I’m sure that somewhere in her mind she knew I hated white, had heard me talk of my love for tulips and roses and lilacs of the brightest hues, but that was either forgotten or irrelevant.
and then there it was….in the deepest part of the forest, across the bubbling stream. The yellows and purples were shining in the sunshine, glistening over the water. Birds making their friendly call…..all was well in this wonderful spot, and would be…..all alone.
there was an orchid that blew in the wind. it was purple and wild. some girl picked it up and ate it. she then proceeded to explode and die. then her body parts turned into orchids. the orchids were then black. and then dragons came. and they burned the entire field and the smoke from them was inhaled and they died.
A single flower – it was all I had left to remind me. I wanted to pick it up, to see if any scent at all remained, but it was so dry and withered that I knew even the lightest touch would turn its faded white petals into a pile of pale ash.
Stupid Plants.
weird plant malice anger confusion sadness tears. All of these things are what I ascociate with orchids, Those asscociations came to be in that order.
Je passai la main dans le bouquet qu’il venait de m’offrir et une orchid
The everlasting orchid of life….is not so everlasting…a fragile thing….killed by the seasons….by fear….by consequence….and sacrificed by necessity….IF there is any way you ever hear my words please know that I don’t want to have to do this…I don’t want to sacrifice this beautiful orchid…but I am scared.
Peter walked into his orchid house and knew right away that something was wrong. It was nothing that anyone else would have noticed: the slight turn of a pot here, the skew of a tool there.
I always preferred roses to orchids
the sweet smell
but then they would wilt silently,
lost light
while your orchids would bloom endlessly
giving their middle fingers to the elements.
orchid
Testicles. That is all I have to say about that.
She worked in her garden even though her knees hurt when she knelt. She still worked in her garden everyday. It was her one true joy in her life. Now that her children were grown and gone and her husband had passed. She smells an orchid and smiles. These had been her husbands favorite flowers. That was the real reason she gardened.
they toiled for hours and hours un end, seeking its bueaty hidden in all the dark swampy place, and finally, in an open little hole they saw it, with the light shinning down on it, you could see the purity of its white flower.
the orchid with green stems and giant red lips, frowning at me and sticking out its little yellow tongue. an ant crawled up the stem and into the sculpted chalice of the red lips and disappeared. i disappeared with it.
I love the mornings I wake up and find an orchid in full bloom just outside my window. Sometimes a pale violet, sometimes white.. sometimes, not there. :( But, oh when it is there, what joy. :) I love my
My breath turns to frost in the autumn air… white clouds rise from my throat. Leaves crunch beneath my feet. In the window a fragile orchid trembles, and my heart aches with longing and the tension of individuality.