The stem of his decease was growing thicker each day. I walked into him resting his head on a pillow like a perfect pearl to it’s oyster; there was simply nothing to fix him. His broken body reflected every inch of shattered glass that lay on the interstate for investigation, maimed and unrepairable.
a flower that I picked turned into a flower that died, so I dug a grave and placed it in the ground. it turned into a flower that I picked and died and picked and died and picked and died and when I died the flower said now you know what it’s like, but I don’t think I do.
Seedling formed from something so miniscule. The stem reaching out towards the light and greater good. The warmth and energy is ever so inviting. The stem is just another part, another story– Branching out to better days.
Stems are on flowers, flowers bloom on top of them and they grow. They are green, some are prickely, and some are fuzzy. But they all supply life to the flower. They are good.
a stem was all that was left in the vase that sat aside my bed. All of the pedals that had wilted with age had fallen to the floor that me and you once lied on.
the stem of the apple had been twisted at least two in a half full rotations. she didnt even realize that she was twisting the stem nervously as she waited by the telephone.
There was a long stem on the flower he gave her. It made the flower too long to fit in the vase she had chosen. She was going to have to cut it. But that made her sad. She didn’t want to ruin its perfection with metal blades or the decision that it somehow wasn’t perfect.
The stem of the flower was long and lanky, and just like everything else recently, it reminded me of him. I had no clue why a simple house plant would evoke so much emotion from me, but I actually started to tear up. I guess it was in the long stem, like the thin, lanky nature of his arms. Arms that would hold me. Stupid plant.
The stem is green and plump. As the flower drinks in the sun, the stem sits silently, supporting it’s beautiful head. Nothing can know how the stem feels, carrying the weight, never being admired.
leaves. i love flowers. they’re pretty and i wish that my boyfriend would give them to me when we go on our date tomorrow. Our first actual date & we’ve been together for over a year…… I really hope it’s perfect.
all i think is growing. Like growing up, growing into a woman. The owman you always wanted to be but as time goes on you don’t become. Instead you become everything you never wanted to be. Funny how life works out sometimes.
So many events could stem from a single one. One lone thing that happens to you, you know? And before you know it, here are a million different outcomes and results and people you meet because of it. You never could have thought it would matter.
The stem of the flower was thick and it took me an embarrassingly long time to pull it’s roots from the ground. She was happy when I presented it to her, even though she knew I must have stolen it from the garden outside the grocery store. She placed it in an old, cracked vase by the kitchen’s tiny window.
Your problem, it seems, stems not from the event at the picnic table, as you had imagined, but from your recent experience with the bat in the freezer.
The base. The beginning. Where it all comes from. When things start to branch out. Leaf, tree, plant, flower, water, life, love. Green. Happiness. Summer. Nostalgia. To be alive.
The rain dropped to the ground, but was not to be defeated. It traveled it’s way up to the clouds via evaporation or in a more intricate journey though the stems and leaves of the flora around it.
I saw a stem with a blossom at the tip. The stem was reaching to the sky from beneath the earth in a way that you can’t even reach toward the highest shelf. It reaches obstacles, but bursts through the sand.
Like a flower. Or a beginning. The based of something. When something is about to happen and good or bad can come from it. No worries, no sadness, no happiness. Just the beginning. The end has yet to come. Excitement from a fresh start. Life. Happiness. All about to begin.
A stem is a beautiful thing that creates life in so many different ways. Stems help plants grow. Stems as in the brain stem help animals function. Stemming ideas. Stemming emotions. Branching off. Spreading into the universe where everybody and everything exists.
A stem is a plant a part which life grows out of. The Stem is where the flower grows from and blooms, where beauty takes its form. A stem is the basis of beauty and life, it starts plain and ends beautiful. Thats a stem. And thats what it is.
stem cells. I don’t know if I agree with using these for research or not. I don’t believe I’m quite qualified to say something on the subject as I’m not very familiar with the controversy. I should educate myself more about this. Educate yourself about what is important to you and share that with someone.
I just love her. That’s the root or the stem of my thought. I think of her daily before I sleep and the first thing I think of when I rise. She consumes my mind. My heart is all hers and I have no remorse for allowing her to hold that responsibility. She is everything. I can truly say that one hundred percent I equitably love her.
a stem if the beginning of a plants life. its the sturdiness that holds it together, only growing stronger as the plants life progresses. a leaf is the extension of a stems arm, growing as long as it need to reach the sun. but as it reaches towards sunlight, it will die in darkness. but from its demise, new life with grow. a new stem with its own leaf to take care of.
stems form flowers. stems are just the beginning. you start out as a stem when youre born. and you can be trampled on but you can end out as something beautiful if you keep on growing. sometimes when it rains on us it helps us grow in the end.
a portion of a flower….i like flowers…the open when the time takes them. Blowing in the wind through the seasons. I’m not allegic to their pixie dust just yet.
stem is the structure that supports the flower weight.
Everyone seems to see the flower, but can’t see that the stem is what supports it all, throught rain & storms.
the flower is where the beauty is, the fruit, the essence, but it cannot be viewed if it were not attached to the stem; it would fall, unseen, unnoticed, alone.
I watched her as she twirled the stem in her fingers. she looked up at me and smiled and I could tell she was pondering whether or not she could give me the flower and a sweet kiss. Because, in her other hand was my hand. A female hand. she glanced around and decided against it.
A stem comes from a seed. The seed is tiny and it starts out with nothing. But as it is watered and nourished it grows and produces the stem. This is symbolic of our lives. We start out small with no experiences, but as we age and live day to day we gain different experiences. Our experiences are our stem. We either have a thick and strong stem or a weak and spindly stem.
flowers have stems. they branch up and out from their stems, so their flowers can face towards waiting bugs, so their leaves can reach the sun. nobody pays attention to the stems of plants, but really, they’re just as important as the other parts. just like people. some of them aren’t noticed, but everyone is important, no matter what they do.
Stem!!!! what the hell! Why am i here i looked at some facebook status and i decided to look this up and it brought me here. OK. I guess a stem is the base of a plant, holds everything into place? I dont know its GIBER GABBER!!!!! I guess in the end it all comes down to… am i going to keep on going with this or close this page and never look back… Ill keep typing instead.
The stem of his decease was growing thicker each day. I walked into him resting his head on a pillow like a perfect pearl to it’s oyster; there was simply nothing to fix him. His broken body reflected every inch of shattered glass that lay on the interstate for investigation, maimed and unrepairable.
Everything stems from something.
a flower that I picked turned into a flower that died, so I dug a grave and placed it in the ground. it turned into a flower that I picked and died and picked and died and picked and died and when I died the flower said now you know what it’s like, but I don’t think I do.
Seedling formed from something so miniscule. The stem reaching out towards the light and greater good. The warmth and energy is ever so inviting. The stem is just another part, another story– Branching out to better days.
Stems are on flowers, flowers bloom on top of them and they grow. They are green, some are prickely, and some are fuzzy. But they all supply life to the flower. They are good.
a stem was all that was left in the vase that sat aside my bed. All of the pedals that had wilted with age had fallen to the floor that me and you once lied on.
the stem of the apple had been twisted at least two in a half full rotations. she didnt even realize that she was twisting the stem nervously as she waited by the telephone.
There was a long stem on the flower he gave her. It made the flower too long to fit in the vase she had chosen. She was going to have to cut it. But that made her sad. She didn’t want to ruin its perfection with metal blades or the decision that it somehow wasn’t perfect.
The stem of the flower was long and lanky, and just like everything else recently, it reminded me of him. I had no clue why a simple house plant would evoke so much emotion from me, but I actually started to tear up. I guess it was in the long stem, like the thin, lanky nature of his arms. Arms that would hold me. Stupid plant.
Science, technology, engineering, mathematics. Baby cells. Connections. High-speed cable, connecting light to light.
The stem is green and plump. As the flower drinks in the sun, the stem sits silently, supporting it’s beautiful head. Nothing can know how the stem feels, carrying the weight, never being admired.
The beginning of many things. The stem. The start of growth, in the simplest of forms.
leaves. i love flowers. they’re pretty and i wish that my boyfriend would give them to me when we go on our date tomorrow. Our first actual date & we’ve been together for over a year…… I really hope it’s perfect.
all i think is growing. Like growing up, growing into a woman. The owman you always wanted to be but as time goes on you don’t become. Instead you become everything you never wanted to be. Funny how life works out sometimes.
from where i come from, from, i stem higher and outer and louder, brighter, further, all from that one original “from.” stems follow origins.
So many events could stem from a single one. One lone thing that happens to you, you know? And before you know it, here are a million different outcomes and results and people you meet because of it. You never could have thought it would matter.
The stem of the flower was thick and it took me an embarrassingly long time to pull it’s roots from the ground. She was happy when I presented it to her, even though she knew I must have stolen it from the garden outside the grocery store. She placed it in an old, cracked vase by the kitchen’s tiny window.
Your problem, it seems, stems not from the event at the picnic table, as you had imagined, but from your recent experience with the bat in the freezer.
The base. The beginning. Where it all comes from. When things start to branch out. Leaf, tree, plant, flower, water, life, love. Green. Happiness. Summer. Nostalgia. To be alive.
a rose that blooms.
wilts.
supports.
carries the weight of a beautiful creation.
reaching up into the sky.
touching the sun.
growth.
The rain dropped to the ground, but was not to be defeated. It traveled it’s way up to the clouds via evaporation or in a more intricate journey though the stems and leaves of the flora around it.
I saw a stem with a blossom at the tip. The stem was reaching to the sky from beneath the earth in a way that you can’t even reach toward the highest shelf. It reaches obstacles, but bursts through the sand.
Like a flower. Or a beginning. The based of something. When something is about to happen and good or bad can come from it. No worries, no sadness, no happiness. Just the beginning. The end has yet to come. Excitement from a fresh start. Life. Happiness. All about to begin.
A stem is a beautiful thing that creates life in so many different ways. Stems help plants grow. Stems as in the brain stem help animals function. Stemming ideas. Stemming emotions. Branching off. Spreading into the universe where everybody and everything exists.
A stem is a plant a part which life grows out of. The Stem is where the flower grows from and blooms, where beauty takes its form. A stem is the basis of beauty and life, it starts plain and ends beautiful. Thats a stem. And thats what it is.
stem cells. I don’t know if I agree with using these for research or not. I don’t believe I’m quite qualified to say something on the subject as I’m not very familiar with the controversy. I should educate myself more about this. Educate yourself about what is important to you and share that with someone.
I just love her. That’s the root or the stem of my thought. I think of her daily before I sleep and the first thing I think of when I rise. She consumes my mind. My heart is all hers and I have no remorse for allowing her to hold that responsibility. She is everything. I can truly say that one hundred percent I equitably love her.
Dirt. Seed. Water. Sprout. Stem. Leaf. Plant. Growth. Petals. Flower. Life.
a stem if the beginning of a plants life. its the sturdiness that holds it together, only growing stronger as the plants life progresses. a leaf is the extension of a stems arm, growing as long as it need to reach the sun. but as it reaches towards sunlight, it will die in darkness. but from its demise, new life with grow. a new stem with its own leaf to take care of.
A manifestation of our fears stemmed from the wake of September and ran languid through July.
stems form flowers. stems are just the beginning. you start out as a stem when youre born. and you can be trampled on but you can end out as something beautiful if you keep on growing. sometimes when it rains on us it helps us grow in the end.
a portion of a flower….i like flowers…the open when the time takes them. Blowing in the wind through the seasons. I’m not allegic to their pixie dust just yet.
stem is the structure that supports the flower weight.
Everyone seems to see the flower, but can’t see that the stem is what supports it all, throught rain & storms.
The stem of the flower was twisted, like it had had a long, rough life. Yet the twisted stem seemed to give the flower character, life.
My feelings for you stemmed from the volume of your hair. Surprisingly enough, the longer we date, the shorter it gets, the more I love you every day.
the flower is where the beauty is, the fruit, the essence, but it cannot be viewed if it were not attached to the stem; it would fall, unseen, unnoticed, alone.
I watched her as she twirled the stem in her fingers. she looked up at me and smiled and I could tell she was pondering whether or not she could give me the flower and a sweet kiss. Because, in her other hand was my hand. A female hand. she glanced around and decided against it.
A stem comes from a seed. The seed is tiny and it starts out with nothing. But as it is watered and nourished it grows and produces the stem. This is symbolic of our lives. We start out small with no experiences, but as we age and live day to day we gain different experiences. Our experiences are our stem. We either have a thick and strong stem or a weak and spindly stem.
flowers have stems. they branch up and out from their stems, so their flowers can face towards waiting bugs, so their leaves can reach the sun. nobody pays attention to the stems of plants, but really, they’re just as important as the other parts. just like people. some of them aren’t noticed, but everyone is important, no matter what they do.
Stem!!!! what the hell! Why am i here i looked at some facebook status and i decided to look this up and it brought me here. OK. I guess a stem is the base of a plant, holds everything into place? I dont know its GIBER GABBER!!!!! I guess in the end it all comes down to… am i going to keep on going with this or close this page and never look back… Ill keep typing instead.