the tiny flower (game)

"Flowery is my name, and I like poems. Very much."

Flowery is asleep. Wake her up to find her inner beauty by letting it know your favourite poems (you can invent them as well). Just write some down in the comments.

Here are a few pictures of Flowery:
https://gyazo.com/b76d2acd761c48303470c99ad7c3c48c
https://gyazo.com/2e875aa1cb76651a054dd75c826b053b

Let me start

Beauty in nature
Flower blooms so succulent
Hummingbirds flutter

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-Carol Brown
(https://www.proflowers.com/blog/favorite-flower-poetry)

Wee, sleeket, cowran, tim’rous beastie,
O, what a panic’s in thy breastie!
Thou need na start awa sae hasty,
Wi’ bickerin brattle!
I wad be laith to rin an’ chase thee
Wi’ murd’ring pattle!

I’m truly sorry Man’s dominion
Has broken Nature’s social union,
An’ justifies that ill opinion,
Which makes thee startle,
At me, thy poor, earth-born companion,
An’ fellow-mortal!

I doubt na, whyles, but thou may thieve;
What then? poor beastie, thou maun live!
A daimen-icker in a thrave
’S a sma’ request:
I’ll get a blessin wi’ the lave,
An’ never miss ’t!

Thy wee-bit housie, too, in ruin!
It’s silly wa’s the win’s are strewin!
An’ naething, now, to big a new ane,
O’ foggage green!
An’ bleak December’s winds ensuin,
Baith snell an’ keen!

Thou saw the fields laid bare an’ waste,
An’ weary Winter comin fast,
An’ cozie here, beneath the blast,
Thou thought to dwell,
Till crash! the cruel coulter past
Out thro’ thy cell.

That wee-bit heap o’ leaves an’ stibble
Has cost thee monie a weary nibble!
Now thou’s turn’d out, for a’ thy trouble,
But house or hald,
To thole the Winter’s sleety dribble,
An’ cranreuch cauld!

But Mousie, thou art no thy-lane,
In proving foresight may be vain:
The best laid schemes o’ Mice an’ Men
Gang aft agley,
An’ lea’e us nought but grief an’ pain,
For promis’d joy!

Still, thou art blest, compar’d wi’ me!
The present only toucheth thee:
But Och! I backward cast my e’e,
On prospects drear!
An’ forward tho’ I canna see,
I guess an’ fear!

- Robert Burns

I have many favourite poems. I'll put this one here for now .

you know that's about a mouse right?

Tealor said:

you know that's about a mouse right?

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?

Tealor said:

you know that's about a mouse right?

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I do. I know the back story to it, but I also know it inspired the title "Of Mice and Men" by John Steinbeck.

Roses aren’t shy
Violets aren’t like glue
I am in my room
This is a nice tune

Little flower don’t be so shy
Come out and play
Don’t sing another lullaby

Your pellets are pretty
Your dirt is so brown
I think I look like a lawn mower

Nitro said:

I do. I know the back story to it, but I also know it inspired the title "Of Mice and Men" by John Steinbeck.

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Never read the book, just heard the poem

Tealor said:

Never read the book, just heard the poem

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READ THE BOOK!

Elder sister vomits blood,
younger sister’s breathing fire
while sweet little Tomino
just spits up the jewels.

All alone does Tomino
go falling into that hell,
a hell of utter darkness,
without even flowers.

Is Tomino’s big sister
the one who whips him?
The purpose of the scourging
hangs dark in his mind.

Lashing and thrashing him, ah!
But never quite shattering.
One sure path to Avici,
the eternal hell.

Into that blackest of hells
guide him now, I pray—
to the golden sheep,
to the nightingale.

How much did he put
in that leather pouch
to prepare for his trek to
the eternal hell?

Spring is coming
to the valley, to the wood,
to the spiraling chasms
of the blackest hell.

The nightingale in her cage,
the sheep aboard the wagon,
and tears well up in the eyes
of sweet little Tomino.

Sing, o nightingale,
in the vast, misty forest—
he screams he only misses
his little sister.

His wailing desperation
echoes throughout hell—
a fox peony
opens its golden petals.

Down past the seven mountains
and seven rivers of hell—
the solitary journey
of sweet little Tomino.

If in this hell they be found,
may they then come to me, please,
those sharp spikes of punishment
from Needle Mountain.

Not just on some empty whim
Is flesh pierced with blood-red pins:
they serve as hellish signposts
for sweet little Tomino.

Ok so the poem I made was for English class but it can relate to Minecraft a little bit because, well... do you know what just read it and you’ll find out.

Winning seems great and all;
I know because I've done it.
But on the path you trip and fall,
And the goal seems far away


It's like mining for gold;
Its supply was dearth and not in sight.
At first I found a little piece that needed work
After searching day and night


I spent hours polishing it
Until its form became true
But what is the future of gold, you ask?
Its future lies in you.

UPDATE: Unfortunately, Flowery didn't come out again. However, two more Floweries grew in the pot!
https://gyazo.com/9ac95ad915b1ad9bdb66c27703d2a619

Also, my other plant is showing up now
https://gyazo.com/11455ea160c89e0b5043fcec0ce6640b

Thanks for participating. If you wish to help, feel free to post more poems.