Flames of Flowers Meanings

Harebell (campainha)is for submission,
gladiolus (gladiolo)
and Snapdragons (erva-bezerra)
for strength,
Grass
for aceptance,
the dog rose
is for pleasure & pain
and coral rose

for desire.
Chamomile
is patience, as well as energy in adversity;
tulips
are a declaration of love,
and yarrow (milefolio)
is the cure for heartache.
Love-lies-bleeding
is pretty self-explanatory;
pansies (amores-perfeitos)
are for thoughts and love,
lotus
is for estranged love and forgetfulness,
zinnia
are for thoughts of an absent friend.

Ok, now I bet you're super curious to why I bothered to research this particular flowers and their meanings... well, it's quite easy!
I wanted to insert flowers into a conversation, like what I did with the ice-cream, remember?
Innuendo games but with flowers this time!
Lets play!
Patricia, if you ever read this, please don't be offended, it's your fault for all that talk about threesomes!

"So, do you want to go out with him?" Pats asked me.

"Well, he's wonderful, that's for sure" I said, cheeks growing pink as I remembered last night, and then tried to think of a good way to show her how last evening had made me feel, without being too obvious or crude.

"Last evening has made me want a... a bouquet, with harebell, gladiolus and snapdragons, to lay on a bed of grass and rose petals," I said, rapidly chosing a few flowers, to represent myself-- the harebell meaning submission, then the gladiolus and snapdragons for him, the roses of desire and the grass of acceptance for pats -- though of course I knew they both really did deserve different, specific symbols, I was quite tired and gave up at finding a more appropriate one.

"I'd offer to arrange that," said Pats, "but it would only get us all in trouble." she continued shaking her head regretfully.

"Ah, perhaps once there's a proper opportunity," I said, looking curiously at her face for any reaction, "we could reconsider the matter?"

She broke out laughing, as I expected, but then she nodded once and made a mockingly serious face . "I shall trust that after many cups of chamomile tea," she said, and my memory supplied a whisper of patience among the meanings, "you will bring us tulips and not yarrow, and I'll have no cause to refuse such a proposal."

I blinked and nodded, filing the statement away to look up later, though I was pretty sure I knew what she meant. "I'll sip chamomile as well," I said, unconsciously copying her more formal speech, "and hope that he won't trade my tulips for love-lies-bleeding."

She laid her hand over mine and smiled softly. "We'll send you pansies all year long," she said trying not to laugh out loud. "And hope not to get lotus blossoms back."

"Never lotus," I said, the strange code coming to me easier, the more we spoke it, like a foreign language I'd read about but never actually tried to speak until just now.

"Pansies and zinnia, for you, always."

I finished smiling softly.