Flowers are the gift of nature, heaven and earth bestowed on humans. Flowers help to link closely feelings of joy and sadness in life. When in love, people use flowers to express their emotions, instead of words. Because of that, many poets have used the color, and the fragrance of roses as inspiration to create rhyming in literature and poetry.
Roses have many colors, and each color has a different meaning: romance, purity, gentleness, rusticity and simplicity…. Because of that, roses become the muse for many poets, each poem about roses is generalized with colors, scents and contain diverse messages in love and life. Roses have proved that the love and soul of the poets are unlimited.
Roses have inspired countless poets, writers, composers, musicians and artists over the years. There have been many poems about roses throughout the centuries, one of them is the most famous collection of poems about roses, written by many famous poets of all time. Here is the best classic and contemporary poem about roses.
Artist: Vincent van Gogh
Year: 1890
Catalogue: F681 – JH1976
Medium: Oil on canvas
Dimensions: 71 cm × 90 cm (28 in × 35 in)
Location: National Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C.
Accession: 1991.67.1
1, A Beautiful Rose by Karen’s
A beautiful single rose,
Gives me pleasure from my head to my toes.
The petals of a rose are so soft and smooth,
They drop when they are ready you don’t need to remove.
They come in so many colours, this one is in your minds eye,
You have to imagine it’s colour you have to try.
It could be red, yellow or even white,
Whichever it is it would be a beautiful sight.
My Son drew this picture in his younger years,
To be able to write a poem about it I say cheers.
2, Lonely Rose by Halima Khan
I blossomed at one morning
From a little bud to beautiful rose
I smiled at my youthful energy
From a status of little one
I gathered all the butterflies to me
From a garden to the mother plant
I spread all the fragrance in the morning
From one corner to the all sides
I am the part of beauty of the nature
From bud to flower I blooming
It’s the nature that hugs me
It’s the nature that kisses me
It’s the nature that planted me
It’s the nature that watered me
It’s the nature that created me
It’s the nature that feeling me
It’s the nature that gives me shelter
Its the nature that proudes me
It’s the nature that nourishes me
It’s the nature that holds me close
Standing lonely on my mother’s plant
Enjoying the cold breezes all around
Celebrating my youthful happiness
Creating magical rythem in the nature
Ruling on the nature as a lonely ROSE
Feeling jealous of me as I bloomed
Reading the beauty and sweetness in me
Nothing is so special as I am the one
Flirting with the couples with my beauty
Watching the love so deep and pure
3, The Rose That Grew From Concrte by Tha Black Origin
The rose that grew from concrete
He knows his worth that’s why he don’t beg people to stay
He was born cold
His heart was sold
Everyone around him was going nut
He tried changing from whom he is to who he is not
He was shot point black in the back by the ones he loved
He never trusted nobody
A man who is always down for everybody
No one cares about his struggle
But they are always quick to judge him in times of trouble
Everything he gave including the sacrifice and love
He got nothing strong enough to be described as love
When they said trust me, they lied
When they said I got your back, they lied
When they said I love you, they lied
When they said I want you to be better than me, they lied
When they said I can never hurt you, they also lied
He felt betrayed and tried going back to his old self
It wasn’t the same for him coming out of hell…
4, Black Rose by Toli Riba
She feels isolated because she’s too beautiful
And all the men desire her
Things get done easily for her
And the women hate her
The Fat ones call her skin and bones
The Ugly ones call her superficial
The Wives call her a swinger
The Young girls call her too bold
And maybe someday as she caressed and brushed her hair
She would have felt beautiful before the mirror
But no one let’s her know that, no one says
Oh! How the others’ colours crept into the Red Rose, turned to a Black Rose
Do they hate her or do they hate themselves
In this society of consolations, bravos, too much accolades, fake laurels
Where you can’t call a fat person fat even though they’re too lazy to work out
Sitting on their bedroom sofa with their pizzas, ice-cream, soda pops and spilling hate comments on the beautiful ones
Honey! It’s not so easy to be beautiful, to look beautiful, to keep that beautiful
Don’t you hate on her if you can’t love her
I’ve seen the beautiful ones made to feel guilty
They must sometimes look at the mirror…. and how they feel?
5, One Red Rose Arose by John Wright
I was drawn to one red rose
all this week as it unfolded
and arose for me to see
it seemed to mean
something wonderful to me
I tried to write about it
this one red rose
but it kept landing in the spaces
between the written words
but yet inside my soul
the love of the living Word I heard
the one red rose was gone today
in my flower garden I could not see
but within the spirit it did abide
and love lifted me
6, Ethan Esmary by Ethan Esmary
King of flowers,
Queen for pose,
Always wellwisher,
Beautiful Rose,
You hypnotize by smell,
You’re attractive like hell,
You make everyone stop and dwell,
You’re appeasement is hard to tell,
You’re beautiful but you’ve thorns too,
You’re wonderful but you’re not alone too,
You’re graceful but you’ve romance too,
You’re colorful but so are different plants too,
Though you’re helpful but comparatively expensive,
Though you’re adorable but respectively hard to be productive,
Though you’re fragrant but everyone don’t feel it effective,
Though you’ve many variants but everyone isn’t adaptive.
By looking you’re appeal
I get romantic feel,
By passing you’re fragrance,
Party becomes extravagant,
Healer of my soul,
You also live with ghouls,
You can be shaped and mold,
You give power when hold,
You make me bold,
You persuade many girls and make boys speak language of love untold.
7, Petals by Amos Russel Wells
The shattered rose has fallen to the floor
In shelly loveliness. The carpet’s green
Forms a new turf, and in that lower scene
Each petal blossoms as a flower once more.
How light it lies as having wings to soar,
A curve of pink! And how its gentle mien,
The soft, rich fulness of its tender sheen,
Surpass the clustered rose we knew before!
Oh, not in labor’s summer-bloom of pride
Does life its crowning loveliness disclose.
Sweeter the lights in autumn days that hide,
And tender age a morning beauty shows.
Scatter life’s broken petals far and wide:
Each is a newer and a lovelier rose.
8, The Presence of the Rose by Angela Morgan
From out imprisoning petals—velvet, red—
Thy soul slips forth in fragrance wondrous sweet—
A silent subtle presence—never fled,
That makes thy mastery over me complete.
How can I doubt God and eternal things
When I look on thy beauty—lovely rose?
A sudden certainty within me springs—
The very gates of Heaven to me unclose!
Hast thou, then, waited all this weary time
From tiny bud to fullest crimson bloom—
With hope and patience wondrously sublime
Through dismal, dreary months of cold and gloom?
Hast waited for my sake—heroic flower—
That this great secret—hidden close with thee—
Should in the sacred silence of this hour
Be all unfolded and revealed to me?
9, I Showed Up With A Rose by Patrick White
I showed up with a rose and you said
it was the wrong colour. I showed up
with my head on a silver platter
and you asked as you danced for another
where I’d buried my heart
like the last love affair of the summer
as I watched your body move
like the moon on a famous river
where others before me had drowned
like fish in a dead sea of shadows,
shipwrecks thirsting for the waters of life
you denied them like the taste of your reflection
in the oceanic deserts of their tears
as they died in a graveyard of wine.
I brought you the fallen leaves
of my latest book of poems like autumn
but you swept them off the thresholds
of your hidden doorways like junkmail
and said, yes, there’s fire in their longing,
but if I’m the muse who refuses you,
next time edge the razor of your tongue in blood.
I retreated like a hermit for awhile
into the severed candle of my solitude
that burned like a comet to return
on the day of my death in your eyes
like the last known address
of my homelessness on the lost gospel
of the loveletter I sent you lightyears from paradise.
O how much I couldn’t second-guess loved you then,
like a weathervane loves the wind,
how much I learned and took to heart
like the golden fossils of sorrow and regret
that lie buried like sundials and hourglasses
in the secret gardens on the moon
where I used to wait for you life after life
like midnight at noon when the earth
stood still and the light held its shadows
like a drowning man holds his breath,
like content delays the timing of its heart
until it’s too late for anyone to show up
like a water-gilder to mend a broken cup.
10, Rose Is A Token Of Love! by Ramesh T A
All colours of rose flowers are a symbol of love for all forever;
Flowers and women are of the same kind by nature and beauty;
All women are emotional and go by the will of heart in life ever;
Rose is cherished most as it represents love of heart like women.
Like love, rose gives sense of cheerful mood by its very presence;
As red rose flower like the heart that pumps red blood with oxygen,
Love bears all poisonous blues of life to rejuvenate heart with joy
To make life a bed of roses soaking heart, mind and soul with ease!
The comfort and joy beautiful rose flower gives only a woman knows
The art of love to make man a kind and graceful being for living a
Good and smooth life relieving all hardships of the world by pleasure
That gives joy and peace to go on surrounding all hurdles of life…!
The heart touching rose flower is a great thing of beauty Nature has
Bestowed to mankind as its token of love for humanity to live in love!
11, Within Every Rose Bud by Linda Winchell
Within every blooming rose bud,
Blooms there memories of you and me,
A time that seems now so long forgotten,
Of how in love…the two of us use to be.
Roses were your favorite of flowers,
So I’ve planted a variety… just in memory of you,
I know you’ve gone now to be with “Our Lord”
So with each rose planted… they will always remind me of that time between us two.
Their brilliant colors of red, yellow and white,
Were those colors you loved the best,
You would tend to them as if they were a lover,
And forget about tending all the rest.
Fed them the best of nutrients…that money could ever buy,
And dusted all their leaves… with only the best of pesticides.
So every time I go and cut a bunch of them,
To grace its place on my kitchen table,
I will remind me of those good times we had together,
Those days of long ago… when our love was able.
12, All The Roses Red by Jim Yerman
I wonder if prejudice governed nature…
how soon before all the roses would be red?
Before all rivers looked the same
and flowed over identical riverbeds?
Before every tree in the forest
looked like every other tree
And every bird that soars the skies
sang matching melodies.
I imagine Earth’s wonderfully diverse landscape
would be totally redefined…
If we allowed prejudice to govern nature…
the way it governs humankind?
13, My Eternal Rose by Dominic Windram
My eternal rose; my most faithful valentine:
Your smiling face is as sweet as heavenly wine.
Your ruby red lips are the fruits of paradise.
And your milk white skin is every dreamer’s delight.
May the flowers of love never wither and die:
As long as the bold light illuminates your eyes;
As long as the blue heavens remain in the sky;
As long as myriad stars continue to shine.
14, Summer’s Rose by Dominic Windram
Although one day your tender beauty,
Will surely fade and wither like a rose,
Your inner light will always shine brightly
As lovely summer’s weary eyelids close.
15, Love Is A Rose by Richard Wlodarski
Love is a rose
That never dies
When it’s conditional
It’s quite dull and mortal
When unconditional
Totally immortal
16, Loves Red Rose by David Wood
A lover’s rose does have a thorn
That has to be held gently, like love
Must reign gently, not to be torn
By words. Words gentle as a dove
Spoken out of true love from the heart
To only one so divine and sweet
Who in turn plays their part
Every time they kiss and meet.
A red rose given as loves great token
Will prick the heart with love’s desire
Where hardly a word needs to be spoken
And will kindle any love about to expire.
17, The Rose, Named Love by Aufie Zophy
Overnight, in the garden I own,
a little red rose, named Love, had grown
Seeing its glory, I knew from the start
I had to pluck it, place it in my heart
From this exquisite rose, I am giving away
to my friends, a petal or two, every day
And of magical petals, I have no lack
cause for each petal I give, two grow back
A big rose named Love will as long as I live
fill up my heart: tonnes of petals to give
Now quick, I am sure that in your garden too,
there will be a magic rose, named Love, for you
18, The Rose of Sharon by Mary Wismer
She is the Rose of Sharon
and the Lily of the valleys
As the lily among throns,
As apple tree among the tree of wood.
She sat down under his shadow
with great delight, and his fruit
was sweet to her taste.
Stay her with flagons
Comfort him with apples.
For he is seek of love.
19, The Rose Garden by John Lars Zwerenz
Where can we find a cove where love and lute
Are married to the strains of cello and flute,
Sheltered from the rains in our garments of white?
Let us walk to the courtyard basked in moonlight!
And there, amid Cupid’s statues of the square,
Where cormorants gleam in the sweet, summer air,
We shall encounter blooms of the redolent rose,
In the bliss of our secluded garden close.
And there, in our sanctuary of amorous play,
In a sanctified nook which no one else knows,
We shall love one another in the hazy noon of day,
And wander through the dappled stream which glows
Like the tropical glimmer of a soft, sunny ray.
O, lead me astray where the lovely, fragrant zephyr goes!
And there, beneath the sobbing sculpture, struck by silver stars,
Which rise above the fountains, weeping to the sky,
I will hold you to my bosom, and kiss you as you sigh,
Surrounded by emerald mountains, and mellifluous guitars!
20, A Rose Scenting The Atmosphere by RoseAnn V. Shawiak
Under the pale moonlight, listening to sparkles of
an interior joy and happiness that takes these feet
stepping out on the dance floor.
Many times throughout the night, love unfolding like
a blossoming rose that cannot wait to open up, scent-
ing the atmosphere so gently on purpose.
A tranquility of an interior heart and soul, as life
keeps moving with love into the night while going
home.
21, Delicate Sounds Of Roses Blooming by RoseAnn V. Shawiak
Rapidly tapping fingers in time with music, loving how
it teases this mind with angelic melodies as they twist
and turn all over the dance floor.
People learning how to step to rhythms while listening
and dancing to moments that are being lived through,
gentle, delicate sounds of roses blooming.
Sun rising and setting without moving around, just keep-
ing time with an inner tempo that arouses life and brings
it to a culminating entrance.
Exits along with special graces that can never be taken
away from this poet, totally enjoying possibilities as
they rise into an interior atmosphere.
There all of life confirms the beauty of humanity and
how we all do fit into patterns and designs that God
has intended all along.
22, Blue Roses Of Heaven by RoseAnn V. Shawiak
Waltzing in fields of yesterday, touching and being
touched by blue roses of heaven as they blossom and
their aromas are filtered into the atmosphere.
Unable to be contained here on earth for they have
to return to heaven when beckoned by God, wanting
them to never die like other flowers here on earth.
23, Valentine Roses by RoseAnn V. Shawiak
Valentine roses are red for love that’s felt directly
from this heart.
Poetry oozing words of thoughtful prose, wrapping it-
self gently around the two of us, watching as years
pass us by.
24, Roses Of Life by RoseAnn V. Shawiak
Becoming self in the midst of many melodies,
playing in the atmosphere of love and living.
Energizing inner traits with enhanced chords
set in an array of technical difficulty, and
culminating in a bouquet of scented roses in life.
25, Pink Roses by Gert Strydom
There are pink rose
behind the razor wire,
the cups of some are already open
and the buds of some
still is closed.
Green stems protrude
over a white wall
where razor sharp wire
cordon it off
and the soft scent
of flourishing flowers
catches me while
I walk to the post box
to get some letters.
26, A Flower For Honey Rose by Peter S. Quinn
A flower for Honey Rose,
Oh so sweet of fragrance;
Even in a small of dose,
May you never blanch.
Your summer be endless,
With colors and shades;
Ever so new and fresh,
Blooms that never fades.
27, One Perfect Rose by Gert Strydom
A single flower she dropped when we met
and in her hands she held a pipe, a water hose
that splashed me by accident quiet wet
while at my feet lay a perfect rose.
I wanted to take her for a spin on my motorbike,
to experience the sun and wind in a special way,
wanted to give her a present that she would like
but she giggled and with a garden hose began to play
and like little children we ran up and down
laughing and having fun
and never such exuberance I have known
from the time that my dating had begun
and later when I returned her rose her eyes did propose
a tender embrace, maybe a kiss and I held her close.
28, Roses And Flowers by Mohammad Skati
There is nothing pretty or wonderful
Like a bunch of flowers or
Like a bunch of roses
Especially when you give them
Directly to a woman whom
You are in love with or
You have already fallen
In love with her….
Flowers and roses are not anything
Extraordinary, but
They are really the pretty symbol
Of any real love…
Generally talking all women love
Flowers and roses for their symbolic
Dimension and for their fragrant dimension…
Falling in love is a lovely thing
Simply because it is
A normal thing to fall in love…
In truth flowers and roses
Make love prettier, greater, and
Even more wonderful with their
Pretty fragrance and
With their pretty image anytime…
Love can not be abandoned at all
Simply because it is that thing
That brings us closer and closer
To each other to have a lovely life…
Without love,
Without lovers,
Without roses and flowers, then
Our whole life will be meaningless,
Bored, and even absurd…
29, Veronica Is A Beautiful Rose by Peter S. Quinn
Veronica is a beautiful rose
Which in spring time comes and grows
If you don’t know it – you know it now
Petals and blooms dance somehow
Fading they don’t until in the fall
When shades grow more complex
For our eyes to gather and recall
That shades are uneven and in duplex
Though Veronica always glows
And her passionate feelings outflows
The morrows are uneven and scorning
Giving their distance and a warning
Fading is done and leaves are falling
On the cobblestones they lie as decks
Until winter breezes starts calling
They are lying still and show no reflex
Veronica is a beautiful rose
Till in beginning of fall – when wind blows
If you don’t know you’ll find out soon
Winter’s coming and bringing it to ruin
Colorful blooming from summer’s gone
With a face of a lady – once was young
The winter’s showing a less kindled sun
There’s no way steady nor right or wrong
30, A Tune For A Rose by Peter S. Quinn
A tune for a rose
That in summer fair grows,
Like beauty in trim
When the moody is dim.
The splendid of flowers
My soul now empowers,
So rich in its shade
What sunshine has made.
You are spring’s gift
My spirit shall uplift,
And grows over sorrow
And give me tomorrow.
All love is with you
The freshest new true,
What affection has chosen
That spring has unfrozen.
You’ll settle all quarrel
The summer’s highest laurel,
In the divine fragrance
Through its coexistence.
31, Roses, Roses Everywhere! by Dr. A.Celestine Raj Manohar M.D.,
A rose in hand looks so much beautiful;
A garland too is grand and gorgeous;
But roses strewn en way is utter waste;
Bouquets aplenty turns a common sight!
A garden having roses of one type,
Is like a lawn or carpet, not too good;
A garden with variety of roses
Is feast to eyes that watch their hues and shapes.
Too much of anything undoes effects;
A single petal yet, looks wonderful;
A mound of roses is no treat to eyes;
A rose given from heart with love is great!
How beautiful God made Mother Nature,
And clothed each flower in robes of grandeur!
32, Sweet Roses In Red by Peter S. Quinn
Sweet roses in red
In the garden surrounding
Colored precincts bled
Of summertime founding
The new flowers of earth
Every seed that is sown
Are their blossoms worth
From the soil deep grown
Like love in your heart
That finds its own ways
With fresh morning start
Into morrow dawn’s haze
Fragrances in to the air
Every perfume of spring
Inside the greenery there
With the birds that’ll sing
Sweet days now ahead
While the times are so great
Tinctured bouquet’s bed
To each lovers heart straight
With you here by my side
The whole world can be won
While winter nights hide
Every flower still lives on
33, Two Bunches Of Red Roses by Gert Strydom
I saw her drying out
two bunches of dark red roses
that I had given
to her,
which she hanged up high
in our bedroom.
She left some thorns
on the green stems
and the colour of the flowers
changed and become darker
and almost black.
The cups lost most
of their lovely fragrance,
but kept some
and became hard and dry
and brittle
and the leaves edges
lost their perfect shape.
With time the love
between us withered away
when she strayed to another
and respect and trust
was nowhere to be found
and I realised that love needs
to be a living thing.
34, Rose Is Rose! by Ramesh T A
Garden full of rose flowers everywhere
Invite everyone to have a nice time there!
Fragrance of rose flower world absorbs
All lovers of flowers as soon as one enters!
The up and down meadows full of green
Grass fine as velvet welcomes all tired….
Tourists to lay down all their belongs on
Bed cover to have food to energize well!
Boosting with energy all soon get up ready
To see the varieties of rose flowers with a
lot of colours varying from each other sure
To have a good idea and conclusion of rose!
Rose is rose whatever be its colour and scent..,
All decide to have a view of it before all go out!
35, His Rose! by Ramesh T A
Entering the world of rose I am exhilarated
By the fragrance of flower filling everywhere
Making one and all addicted to its spell sure!
What an attraction this red rose has for men
Living long in desert lands due to wars of…
Attrition to have a foothold over enemy camp!
A great relief rose flower gives to the war torn
Soldier of justice waiting to throw away arms
To embrace lady love waiting for him as Penelope!
Ulysses lost ten years of life in war for the sake of
Love between Paris and Helen on Greek side and
Ten years to return home being the Hero of odyssey!
Many wayward tactics of fantasy world beings never
Wayward his singular object of uniting with his rose!
36, Black Rose by Crescent Caliph
In the woods they’d meet
At first once a week
Like treasure he’d treat her
Before she knew it, she was a slave
Thus weekly became daily
Three moons after, harm was done
A life was made, and the creator disappeared
He had gone, just as he had arrived
Lost to the wind, no traces left
His past so obscured, no one knew it
But a child he left behind
A spitting image of himself
And a woman so broken
Rejected and scorned by her community
An example to generations yet to come
Loved by none, beaten by life
Haunted by memories, sweet yet bitter
Living in isolation, a life she never imagined
Alone with her son, “an abomination”
A black rose indeed she is
37, The Rose – Sonnet by Annie Johnson
A rose between the pages of a book;
With faded leaves turned brittle at the stem.
Color restored to new with just a look;
Remembered voice that haunts me like a hymn.
The days ring slowly in my house of dreams.
My memory keeps fresh as dew, his kiss;
The love I held so dear did burst the seams
Released in endless sighs of sweetest bliss.
The book is closed wherein the rose was pressed.
Closed, too, the tender dreams of endless love
When all I knew of love was proudly dressed
In stars and moonbeams showered from above.
Oh, for the chance to dance with him again.
And wear this rose the way I wore it then.
38, A Single Rose by Mary Lynn Luiz
A single white rose, you placed in my hand
As you bowed, gently kissed my right hand!
How beautiful the rose, purity of white!
Blushing, innocently, I accepted it, reluctantly
After that, one afternoon,
you gave me a single pink rose,
Saying thank you, with gratitude,
I suppose! Only God really knows!
Then came a single peach rose,
friendship was continually deepening,
speaking with poetry and prose!
Dating always kept us on our toes!
Next came a single purple rose!
Are you telling me, could it possibly be so,
Do you think I am beautiful and sensuous as well?
So soft and velvety, an alluring fragrant as a rose!
A single yellow rose, happiness shows,
all over your face! It is obvious, you just glow!
Peace and harmony like a river flow,
as our love relationship steadily grows!
Oh, a single red rose.
The one I’ve been hoping for!
With it comes a promise of lifelong love!
Devotion! Never changing, always remaining!
Oh, no this can’t be true, A black rose, making me blue!
It’s over! Our relationship is through! Undoubtedly,
I’ll get over you, knowing your love wasn’t true!
God’s got someone more perfect for me than you!
39, The Winter Rose by Phyllis Banberger
Through Winter frost
Of glistening snow
The single rose shines
Through to brighten
Dismal days
The Winter rose is
Not a feeble bloom
Yet wears the scars
Of coarse cold air
Scent of love eternal
A frail token of the
Memories of Spring!
Resplendent beauty
Morning graced and
Blessed with your
Tenderness
The petals like an
Angel’s face
A glorious beacon
To my heart!
40, The White Rose by John Boyle O’Reilly
The red rose whispers of passion,
And the white rose breathes of love;
O, the red rose is a falcon,
And the white rose is a dove.
But I send you a cream-white rosebud
With a flush on its petal tips;
For the love that is purest and sweetest
Has a kiss of desire on the lips.
41, The Special Rose by Jim Cunningham
Her special rose is still waiting,
Although, she will never arrive.
With death, there is no debating,
You hope your heart will survive.
On her special bench, you place it,
She loved just sitting by the lake.
Made memories you’ll never forget,
Although, your heart wants to break.
The local pigeons she would feed,
With birdseed, she always brought.
Your emotions begin to stampede,
In a storm of tears, you are caught.
As you turn around to walk away,
Your heart begins skipping a beat.
You swear you could hear her say,
Come over here and take a seat.
It is your heart that still sees her,
Your love for her will never die.
These feelings always reoccur,
You know all Angels can fly.
42, I Asked For A Rose by Philotheos Deng
I want to rest in the arms of your love
I want to soar with the eagles above
I want to spread my wings
And fly to where the angels sing
I want to lay down in pastures green
I want to go where I’ve never been
To simply rest in the knowledge of you
Is all that I want to do
I want to go to that place of rest
A place of refuge from trial and test
To the mountaintop in the valley so low
That’s the place that I want to go
I want to be found in the depths of you
To fly in the sky above so blue
I want to walk into the Father’s heart
And from there never be apart
You brought light to the darkness in me
You touched me and set me free
Your thoughts of me are beyond measure
This knowledge is my heavenly treasure
I asked for a rose and you gave me a garden
In the depths of my sin you brought me a pardon
And you have forever set me free
And gave me eyes that can truly see.
43, Bloody Rose by Gavin Godley
She’s not naked
She’s just a rose that has a head
Her royal dress and royal steps
Elevate her to heaven
She falls from the sky
Into the north sea
She rises from the waters
With the south wind
She treads the land
She tramples on princes
She drinks the blood
Of the probles
She’s their problems
Those among the nobles
Who do the goblet
Dukes and Lords
Who die of unreturned love
See her roots run to Babylon
What Nimrod did to this world
He planted kingdom
That grew as red rose
With emerald petals
Ruby blooms
Deceptive scent
And land mine roots
That trap men to death
44, My Rose by Nakshatra Singh
I walked to the gardens,
Fragrance, bright colors,
Flowers all flowers.
Among every kind of beauty,
Shone pink my lovely Rose.
I picked it and moved on,
My heart, a little small world,
In my very being lives it,
Full of warm airs of love,
Full of firm soil of trust,
I have planted you in it,
Blossom pink o my Rose.
The cozy world of my heart,
It had a door to let you in,
It opens if you wish to leave,
Oh beloved, it must not open,
No one I want to enter it now,
Your departure I can’t bear,
I made few windows though,
To let fresh light of hope in,
To keep your soft soul warm.
Wear smiles, be fragrant,
Stay forever, it’s your world,
Clad in the arms of my soul,
Blossom pink o my Rose…
45, Rose by Mar Ramirez
You are perfect in every way,
You gives a smile to every girl,
A man would love to offer you,
To someone he had fallen to.
Your beauty never fades,
Your thorn shows you never scared,
The one who holds you carelessly,
Will surely bleed suddenly.
The more they care you,
The sweet blossom you arouse to,
You are born to offer,
Great love you would fonder.
46, Loving a Rose by Author Andrew Vassell
Like wings her petals folds
and enclose me, protecting
the essence and content of
a heart that holds her dear.
The bottom of her roots
sinks deep within me, keeping
me firmly embedded in the
foundation our love.
How do I contain the lust of
her radiance and the yearn
for her beauty and smell and
why do I crave you so well?
You elevate the elements of
my smile and keep the buds
of my energy alive.
Loving a rose so sweet, the
beautiful dreams of my sleep,
the green pigment of my leaf
and characteristics to ease
me leaving me the peace my
heart needs to succeed.
47, Red Rose by Symon Saich
A sweet red rose
In the garden of life is you
Standing out amongst the rest
Single most beautiful sight to behold
Yet vibrant and eye catching
Smelling so nice
Fragrance so divine
That’s uniquely yours
Sweet delectable scent
Caressing my nostrils
Reeling me in
Soft velvety petals
Smooth to touch
Still thorny on the edges
They prick me once in a while
But i still love it
Coz it grabs my attention
Makes me aware Reminds me
To handle you with care
Coz you’re a treasure so rare
Your sweet caring nature
Shines through
Personified unworldly beauty
Within and without
This sweet red rose
Is you
You’re my precious rose
Adding beauty and colour
In my life
48, Rose Flower by Aleeza
Hey Rose flower, you hurts a lot
I don’t know it for aught
Loved the dreams in which you blossomed
Holding an attitude besides the rostrum
Hey Rose flower, you hurts a lot
I don’t know how to jot
Amidst thy wondrous sweet fragrance
Thrones thy hold with deep diffidence
Hey Rose flower, you hurts a lot
I don’t know how to sob
Scent of forgiveness thy decamp
To those heels that crack you down
Hey Rose flower, you hurts a lot
I don’t know how to fight
The discord amidst thy thorns and beauty
Enchantment you follow as your duty
Hey honey! I know I have guards
I don’t want my beauty to depart
To stand tall like a queen of flowers
Wanna rejoice in awesome rain showers
49, Red Rose by Binibining Aphroditee
I saw a red rose,
Never been touched
No one cared,
Because of the the thorns they see.
They scorned excrescence.
Loathed mayhem
I saw a red rose,
It was crying,
It felt alone.
The drips of water plunged from it.
It wanted to be withered.
I came near,
My arms hugged it.
Thorns started to prick me
That caused me too much pain.
But I do love red,
For me, this brings love.
That is when you love someone,
You are too blind to see how it looks like
Just like hugging a red rose,
You’ll feel gaiety
You’ll feel throes at the same time.
Even if his thorns of distress would strike,
The beauty of love will always be conspicuous.
50, A Red, Red Rose by Robert Burns
O my Luve’s like a red, red rose
That’s newly sprung in June;
O my Luve’s like the melodie
That’s sweetly play’d in tune.
As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
So deep in luve am I:
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
Till a’ the seas gang dry:
Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi’ the sun:
I will luve thee still, my dear,
While the sands o’ life shall run.
And fare thee well, my only Luve
And fare thee well, a while!
And I will come again, my Luve,
Tho’ it were ten thousand mile.
51, The Lover Tells of the Rose in His Heart by W.B. Yeats
All things uncomely and broken, all things worn out and old,
The cry of a child by the roadway, the creak of a lumbering cart,
The heavy steps of the ploughman, splashing the wintry mould,
Are wronging your image that blossoms a rose in the deeps of my heart.
The wrong of unshapely things is a wrong too great to be told;
I hunger to build them anew and sit on a green knoll apart,
With the earth and the sky and the water, re-made, like a casket of gold
For my dreams of your image that blossoms a rose in the deeps of my heart.
52, Fire Roses by Cynthia Fuller
Today you grasped
the stars as
they were slipping off
the edge of my horizon
and shook them back
into the sky.
You are
quicksilver
can leave me
slow-footed
wordless.
My skin is alive
with the soft imprint
of your mouth.
How many miracles
can there be?
As I burnt your letters
the pages spread and curled
bloomed
like fire roses.
53, A Rose by Emily Dickinson
A sepal, petal, and a thorn
Upon a common summer’s morn,
A flash of dew, a bee or two,
A breeze
A caper in the trees, —
And I’m a rose!
54, The Presence of the Rose by Angela Morgan
From out imprisoning petals—velvet, red—
Thy soul slips forth in fragrance wondrous sweet—
A silent subtle presence—never fled,
That makes thy mastery over me complete.
How can I doubt God and eternal things
When I look on thy beauty—lovely rose?
A sudden certainty within me springs—
The very gates of Heaven to me unclose!
Hast thou, then, waited all this weary time
From tiny bud to fullest crimson bloom—
With hope and patience wondrously sublime
Through dismal, dreary months of cold and gloom?
Hast waited for my sake—heroic flower—
That this great secret—hidden close with thee—
Should in the sacred silence of this hour
Be all unfolded and revealed to me?
55, In the Garden by Ernest Crosby
I spied beside the garden bed
A tiny lass of ours,
Who stopped and bent her sunny head
Above the red June flowers.
Pushing the leaves and thorns apart,
She singled out a rose,
And in its inmost crimson heart,
Enraptured, plunged her nose.
“O dear, dear rose, come, tell me true—
Come, tell me true,” said she,
“If I smell just as sweet to you
As you smell sweet to me!”
56, My Rose by Emily Dickinson
Pigmy seraphs gone astray,
Velvet people from Vevay,
Belles from some lost summer day,
Bees’ exclusive coterie.
Paris could not lay the fold
Belted down with emerald;
Venice could not show a cheek
Of a tint so lustrous meek.
Never such an ambuscade
As of brier and leaf displayed
For my little damask maid.
I had rather wear her grace
Than an earl’s distinguished face;
I had rather dwell like her
Than be Duke of Exeter
Royalty enough for me
To subdue the bumble-bee!
57, The Sick Rose by William Blake
O Rose, thou art sick!
The invisible worm,
That flies in the night,
In the howling storm,
Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy;
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy.
58, The Garden of Saint Rose by Bliss Carman
This is a holy refuge
The garden of Saint Rose
A fragrant altar to that peace
The world no longer knows.
Below a solemn hillside
Within the folding shade
Of overhanging beech and pine
Its walls and walks are laid.
Cool through the heat of summer,
Still as a sacred grove,
It has the rapt unworldly air
Of mystery and love.
All day before its outlook
The mist-blue mountains loom,
And in its trees at tranquil dusk
The early stars will bloom.
Down its enchanted borders
Glad ranks of color stand,
Like hosts of silent seraphim
Awaiting love’s command.
Lovely in adoration
They wait in patient line,
Snow-white and purple and deep gold
About the rose-gold shrine.
And there they guard the silence,
While still from her recess
Through sun and shade Saint Rose looks down
In mellow loveliness.
She seems to say, “O stranger,
Behold how loving care
That gives its life for beauty’s sake,
Makes everything more fair!
“Then praise the Lord of gardens
For tree and flower and vine,
And bless all gardeners who have wrought
A resting place like mine!”
59, Amid the Roses by John B. Tabb
There was laughter ‘mid the Roses,
For it was their natal day;
And the children in the garden were
As light of heart as they.
There were sighs amid the Roses,
For the night was coming on;
And the children—weary now of play—
Were ready to be gone.
There are tears amid the Roses,
For the children are asleep;
And the silence of the garden makes
The lonely blossoms weep.
60, Red Rose by Raymond Garfield Dandridge
I plucked a rose, a red rose rare,
I placed her on a throne
Within my heart; and there I dare
To worship her alone.
An idol, thus, I paid to her
My constant vigil, love, and care.
Upon my knees, I prayed to her,
My whole heart in my prayer.
Alas! my love, my care, my prayer,
Failed! failed to keep my treasure fair.
I saw (my heart filled with despair)
Her drooping head;
Her beauty, grace and fragrance flown,
Her every leaf and petal shorn,
I gazed in silence—and alone—
Upon my dead.
61, The Rose by Jones Very
The rose thou show’st me has lost all its hue,
For thou dost seem to me than it less fair;
For when I look I turn from it to you,
And feel the flower has been thine only care;
Thou could’st have grown as freely by its side
As spring these buds from out the parent stem,
But thou art from thy Father severed wide,
And turnest from thyself to look at them,
Thy words, do not perfume the summer air,
Nor draw the eye and ear like this thy flower;
No bees shall make thy lips their daily care,
And sip the sweets distilled from hour to hour;
Nor shall new plants from out thy scattered seed,
O’er many a field the eye with beauty feed.
62, The Winter Rose by Hannah Flagg Gould
O, why do I hold thee, my fair, only rose,
My bright little treasure—so dear;
And love thee a thousand times better than those,
In thousands, that lately were here?
Because, like a friend, when the many depart,
As fortune’s cold storms gather round,
Till all from without chills the desolate heart,
My sweet winter-flower, thou art found!
Because that for me thou hast budded and blown,
I look with such fondness on thee;
That, while I’ve no other, I call thee my own,
And feel thou art living for me.
I know thee. I’ve studied thy delicate form,
Till reared from the root to the flower,
That opens to-day, in a season of storm!
To brighten so dreary an hour.
How could I so lavishly scatter my sight
On those, that the gay summer-sun
Had nursed with his beams, when I find such delight
In having and loving but one?
And while thou dost modestly blush at the praise,
That thus I in secret bestow,
It heightens thy beauty, and only can raise
The strain, high and higher to flow.
Although thou must droop, as our dearest ones will,
I’ll tenderly watch thy decline;
And, in thy sad moments, I’ll cherish thee still,
Because thou hast cheered me in mine.
Then, hallowed like dust of a friend in the tomb,
I’ll lay thy pale leaves safe away,
Where memory often shall give them the bloom
That brightened my dark winter day.
63, Wild Roses and Snow by Mackenzie Bell
How sweet the sight of roses
In English lanes of June,
Where every flower uncloses
To meet the kiss of noon.
How strange the sight of roses—
Roses both sweet and wild—
Seen where a valley closes
‘Mid mountain heights up-piled.
Upon whose sides remaining
Is strewn the purest snow,
By its chill power restraining
The tide of spring’s soft glow.
Yet God, who gave the pureness
To yon fair mountain snow,
Gives also the secureness
Whereby these roses blow.
64, Ashes of Roses by Elaine
Soft on the sunset sky
Bright daylight closes,
Leaving, when light doth die,
Pale hues that mingling lie—
Ashes of roses.
When love’s warm sun is set,
Love’s brightness closes;
Eyes with hot tears are wet,
In hearts there linger yet
Ashes of roses.
65, The Rose Family by Robert Frost
The rose is a rose,
And was always a rose.
But the theory now goes
That the apple’s a rose,
And the pear is, and so’s
The plum, I suppose.
The dear only knows
What will next prove a rose.
You, of course, are a rose—
But were always a rose.
66, A Rose… by Sharina Saad
She…
as beautiful as a rose
Her love is so sweet
the sweetest fragrance of a rose
I love the scent of this woman..
the sweetest rose
that melts my heart..
She..
who is as beautiful as a rose..
that blooms in a golden sun
She holds a rose in her hand..
with her million dollars worth smile..
her cheek rosy when she smiles..
The rose in her soft hands..
as sweet as her smile…
outstanding as they bloom..
She…
her blooming eyes,
red roses delight in those pair.
I could see her heart in the rose she holds..
In her heart a garden of rose….
What a beautiful rose she is…
67, Like A Rose by Sam Fedarb
My love for you is like a red, red rose,
It started as a seed but it’s grown and grown.
Its roots reach deep down inside of my chest,
And it grows even more with each passing breath.
The delicate petals lay beautiful and pure,
All the doubts that I’ve had you have since cured.
For all the thorns that this proud rose bears,
They are all softened by the thought of your care.
Soon the rose grows old and withers and dies,
But the love that helped grow it will last for all time.
68, The Painted Blue Rose by Larry B
Blue was his wife’s favorite color
So he bought her a painted blue rose
She said she’d never seen anything like it
So she carries it where ever she goes
He woke up early one morning
To make his wife breakfest in bed
The rose lay alone on the table
Beside it his wife was found dead
The blue rose was placed on her coffin
Then removed when they lowered her down
Cast aside with the discarded trash
That was lying closeby on the ground
A little girl around nine or ten
Picked it up and took it back home
Here on vacation to visit her family
But now on her way back to Rome
She gave the rose to her Grandmother
Who carried it all the way to Japan
Who then gave the rose to her waitress
For lending her a helping hand
The waitress gives the rose to a stranger
Who was now on his way back to France
Who gave the rose to his daughter
As her whole class was watching her dance
She then gave the rose to her teacher
Who was leaving to start a new life
He was on his way to America
To be with his children and wife
He then gave the rose to his brother
Who’s still grieving the death of his bride
He places the rose on her gravestone
Where it started the day that she died
69, Alpine Rose by Christian M. Coli
This is dedicated to my alpine rose
A greater beauty no one knows
Crashing grinding tectonic plates
From valley floor to heavens gates
For me at home my love awaits
70, Rose and Tiny Urchin Girl by Pink Faerie
The rose smiled as the dainty girl hid
Forming a bond of friendship
Each feeling the thoughts of the other
A fantastic journey for both
A tiny rosebud who was almost clipped by frost
A tiny urchin girl whose heart was pure
Imagination swirled around them both
They felt loved and protected
Their friendship predetermined by the gods
Zeus and Aphrodite orchestrating the meadow
An effervescent quality in heavenly bliss
Painted by an artist who felt them both.
71, A Rose by Elizabeth
A lovely rose with petals soft
A scent so sweet and light
So beautiful a flower
With colors shining bright.
But something not so savory
About the fragrant rose –
The thorns, so sharp upon the stem,
That sharpen as it grows.
Yet still lovely is the flower
Despite the thorns that prick
Just as life and love are sweet
They too have thorns that stick.
But do not fear to live or love,
Life’s not exempt from pain –
So pick a rose, you may get hurt,
But you will also gain!
72, Rose by Conrad Aiken
He
Fill your bowl with roses: the bowl, too, have of crystal.
Sit at the western window. Take the sun
Between your hands like a ball of flaming crystal,
Poise it to let it fall, but hold it still,
And meditate on the beauty of your existence;
The beauty of this, that you exist at all.
She
The sun goes down,—but without lamentation.
I close my eyes, and the stream of my sensation
In this, at least, grows clear to me:
Beauty is a word that has no meaning.
Beauty is naught to me.
He
The last blurred raindrops fall from the half-clear sky,
Eddying lightly, rose-tinged, in the windless wake of the sun.
The swallow ascending against cold waves of cloud
Seems winging upward over huge bleak stairs of stone.
The raindrop finds its way to the heart of the leaf-bud.
But no word finds its way to the heart of you.
She
This also is clear in the stream of my sensation:
That I am content, for the moment, Let me be.
How light the new grass looks with the rain-dust on it!
But heart is a word that has no meaning,
Heart means nothing to me.
He
To the end of the world I pass and back again
In flights of the mind; yet always find you here,
Remote, pale, unattached . . . O Circe-too-clear-eyed,
Watching amused your fawning tiger-thoughts,
Your wolves, your grotesque apes—relent, relent!
Be less wary for once: it is the evening.
She
But if I close my eyes what howlings greet me!
Do not persuade. Be tranquil. Here is flesh
With all its demons. Take it, sate yourself.
But leave my thoughts to me.
73, The Pinprick Rose by Dakota Demery
Inside my Garden
Of Misleading Wonders,
I house a particular Rose.
A Rose of great beauty,
A Rose so wonderous,
A Rose worthy of masterful prose.
The Pinprick Rose,
A great fickle Rose,
A Rose o’ so painful to grow,
This enchanting Rose,
So painful to grow,
So fickle and slow,
Is rightfully so,
As its planter, you see, I ought to know.
Its petals are Rubies,
Diamonds its dew,
Its stem is of Jade -oh- and emeralds too.
It grows in the night,
Quite far out of sight,
A rather shy creature,
Quite partial to fright.
But when it is grown,
And when it’s full bloom,
And when it bright petals burst forth from their womb,
It changes…
This Pinprick Rose,
So worthy of prose,
So painful to grow,
So fickle and slow,
So dark in the night,
So far out of sight,
So partial to fright–
It changes.
Its Petals, they bleed,
Its Stem takes on weeds,
Its Dew all concedes.
It Thorns all out lash,
The Rose starts to thrash,
Your life could be ending with just one simple slash.
The Rose is a monster, once it is grown,
That’s the whole point, in Fate it is sewn…
Inside my Garden
Of Misleading Wonders,
I house a particular Rose.
A Rose of great Evil,
A Rose so murderous,
A Rose worthy of masterful prose.
The Pinprick Rose,
A great fickle Rose,
A Rose o’ so painful to grow,
This ensnaring Rose,
So painful to grow,
So fickle and slow,
Is rightfully so,
As its planter, you see, I ought to know…
74, Roses White Orchids Black by Derick Van Dusen
If your favorite flower is the rose
Do you not then liken yourself to a rose
Is not your beauty equal to that of the rose
Behold I stand perfect beauty
A white rose among the thorns
Behold I stand for you to see
A perfect beauty inside of me
If mine favorite flower is the orchid
Do I not then liken myself to the orchid
Is not my beauty equal to that of the orchid
Behold I stand handsome beauty
A black orchid among twisted roots
Behold you stand for me to see
A handsome beauty inside of you
A single petal of the rose so delicate of it self
A single petal of the rose so flawless of it self
Delicate beauty equaled only by delicate perfection
Flawless beauty equaled only by flawless grace
A single petal of the orchid so sensual of it self
A single petal of the orchid so ****** of it self
Sensual beauty equaled only by sensual grace
****** beauty equaled only by ****** perfection
Where there is white rose there is you
Where there is black orchid there is me
White Rose Black Orchid You and I
Wherever you go there too will I be
Does not the rose equal your grace
Does not your beauty equal the rose
Does not the orchid equal my strength
Does not my strength equal the orchid
Doth not the white rose possess the black orchid
Can not they bee one can not they be the same
Doth not you have mine heart
As the white rose has you
Doth not I have your soul
As the black orchid has me
The orchid has fallen for the rose
Has fallen for the orchid
And in my field of white roses
You stand a sultry orchid black
If only to look if only to feel
If only to hold if only to love
A rose white is me this night
Take from me this rose white
This rose white this orchid black
Together as one we cant take back
75, The Rose by Derena
A rose of perfection
just been born, to put
a smile on someones
face, that lives in sorrow
because of a broken heart.
Give a Rose!
A rose to calm the hurting
soul, to see a twinkle in
eyes so sad, to just
give a fresh rose makes
a person feel good through
and through.
Give a Rose!
There is nothing in this
world has a rose, each pedal
soft as silk, and perfect
to the eye.
Give a Rose!
All flowers are beautiful
only the rose brings out
a special message
of ‘I love you.’
Give a Rose!
The red rose is for passion
the yellow for friendship
the white rose is for purity
that a young lady always
has.
Give a Rose!
The rose of love
is never forgotten, it
blooms each and every day
for a lost love, a birth
a death of someone you
love, just for no reason
at all, the rose stands
above all.
Give a Rose!
76, It Rose by Acid Loves Mercury
A great bubble rose
Rose, but didn’t break
From the depths of the salty sea
I watched it from my sprire
As it had, every day
Rose, but never broke
Like giant fish, or beast
Pushing up from the deep
The water displaced, rose
As spectators stood
Then, daily spread norm, wain
Novelty lost, still it rose
Until all but I, left their ways
Secluded, solitary towered life
Stranded here, I watch it rose
The boats of this town
Sail around the great dome, rose
Set to fish, bring them home
But today, I saw, surprised
A horror, take ship, rose
Splintering rails, plank and souls
A creature from beyond
Nightmarish, tentacled, darkness
The sea, arose
I called for my son,
Bring warning, rose
The town, the town!
But my son, ignored
Too bothered by elderly blood, rose
I shuttered my window,
Lighning broke, blossomed
A cracked sky, rose
As the creature, turned to Bon Homme
77, On the Rose by Daniel Thomas McClurkin
Why are you a rose?
I’ve asked this many times
often to myself as I lie awake
prefacing my dreams with thoughts of you.
Could it be you are a rose
because of your bare beauty;
your desirability?
That seems to be the well accepted answer.
I don’t think that is you.
Not that you aren’t beautiful,
but that your beauty is beyond compare.
So you can’t have the beauty of a rose.
Perhaps it is because you are fleeting.
Bloom today, wilt tomorrow:
joy today and tomorrow sorrow.
No no no, that cannot be.
You do not leave by nature
as a rose does
you leave by choice
as you do.
I know.
I know why you are a rose
and I am a child.
When a child finds a rose bush
he is delighted.
“What odd things!
I want one for myself!”
He does not know why he yearns
he does not know why he loves,
he just does.
So he grabs.
So I grab.
And what happens when he grabs?
And what happens when I grab?
We bleed. We hurt.
We grab onto to you because something
we can’t understand tells us to.
We didn’t ask for this desire.
So we want you,
to hold, to smell, to watch,
to love. But a rose isn’t for a child,
and what am I, if not a child?
A dreamer, a lover, a romantic.
A rose is not for me.
A rose does not want me.
But I want the rose,
and I cannot tell you why.
78, That Rose by Winter Green
On a whim I bought a rose
When I got home I put it in an old drinking glass
with nothing but tap water
We are like that rose
Out of nowhere
Cultivated with scraps
The rose thrived off of the water
Flourishing and growing beyond expected
We are like that rose
Blossoming with nothing but bits and pieces fed to us
The rose began to run out of water and wilt
So I added more
And it regained some of its strength
We are like that rose
Adding to something that’s no longer there
Grasping at moments of bliss
The rose started to die
So finally I fed it proper food
We are like that rose
Belatedly nourishing remains in hopes of recollecting what never was
But it was too late
And one day I came home to discover the rose
dead
petals scattered
limp and lifeless
beyond hope
We were like that rose
79, The Colorful Rose by Muhammed Iqbal
You are not familiar with the hardships of solving enigmas
O Beautiful Rose! Perhaps you do not have sublime feelings in your heart
Though you adorn the assembly yet do not participate in its struggles
In life’s assembly I am not endowed with this comfort
In this garden I am the complete orchestra of Longing
And your life is devoid of the warmth of that Longing
To pluck you from the branch is not my custom
This sight is not different from the sight of the eye which can only see the appearances
Ah! O colorful rose this hand is not one of a tormentor
How can I explain to you that I am not a flower picker
I am not concerned with intricacies of the philosophic eye
Like a lover I see you through the nightingale’s eye
In spite of innumerable tongues you have chosen silence
What is the secret which is concealed in your bosom?
Like me you are also a leaf from the garden of ñër
Far from the garden I am, far from the garden you are
You are content but scattered like fragrance I am
Wounded by the sword of love for search I am
This perturbation of mine a means for fulfillment could be
This torment a source of my intellectual illumination could be
This very frailty of mine the means of strength could be
This mirror of mine envy of the cup of could be
This constant search is a world-illuminating candle
And teaches to the steed of human intellect its gait
80, The Sick Rose by William Blake
O Rose thou art sick.
The invisible worm,
That flies in the night
In the howling storm:
Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy:
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy.
81, Sea Rose by Hilda Doolittle (H.D.)
Rose, harsh rose,
marred and with stint of petals,
meagre flower, thin,
sparse of leaf,
more precious
than a wet rose
single on a stem —
you are caught in the drift.
Stunted, with small leaf,
you are flung on the sand,
you are lifted
in the crisp sand
that drives in the wind.
Can the spice-rose
drip such acrid fragrance
hardened in a leaf?
82, The Autumn Rose by Mirela Athanas
A yellow rose silently bloomed,
One morning, in the cold of Autumn,
Unending rain had cast a gloom
on bare branches, already forgotten,
their colorful leaves, fallen and doomed,
blown by tempestuous winds, in air are floating;
But, there, in that mystique November day,
the startling yellow rose stands tall,
She is so fresh, strong and full of grace,
elegant petals, crystallized in gliding raindrops,
No wind can bare her sprout, her soul
standing there, her beauty, beautifies more;
even more beautiful than her time in Spring,
when she first blossomed, and Skies adorned;
Her petals danced for long with the wind,
yet, were never blown away and never dropped,
Although, in every second, it almost seemed
as if…like leaves, they all could fall,
She kept her petals untouched and gleamed.
What strength to be taken from this rose!
Her striking resemblance with me and you, her poise,
Her grace, akin to Human’s best, Heaven bestowed;
We stand and bloom, in rain, winter and cold,
We keep our petals deep, deep in our soul,
our souls are roses, whose petals never fall,
They blossom, wide open,
in Winter,
Spring,
Summer,
Autumn;
And forever, eternally, as this Autumn rose
day, and day after day, our souls beautify more.
83, The Rose by Jean Valentine
a labyrinth,
as if at its center,
god would be there—
but at the center, only rose,
where rose came from,
where rose grows—
& us, inside of the lips & lips:
the likenesses, the eyes, & the hair,
we are born of,
fed by, & marry with,
only flesh itself, only its passage
—out of where? to where?
Then god the mother said to Jim, in a dream,
Never mind you, Jim,
come rest again on the country porch of my knees.
84, Two Roses From Syria by Madrason Writer
I met two roses from Syria
sprung right out of Arabia
and seeded on Hollandia.
There’s too much hate for potentates
too much is pending on their fates
you can’t deny the crying
the fears spread red tears
from all of those
who are still dying.
Hear the beloved country
cry
you cannot talk
or freely walk about
there eyes are spying
everywhere.
I cannot think of anything
more justifying
then frying them out
-finally stop the lying-
and make the people proud.
85, Roses Blossoming by Richard Wlodarski
Roses cheerfully
Blossoming just now
In time and space
Shed no sorrow
86, The Perfect Rose by Madrason Writer
The greatest
things that
you desire
are dancing
straight into
the fire
then watch
and smell
and smile
for it is Love
candled by
Life.
87, The Wonder Of Each Rose by Jim Yerman
Without each individual drop of water where would the ocean’s beauty be?
Or the river, or the morning dew, or the rainbow, or the sea?
The beach upon which we walk in silence with vistas wonderful and grand
owes it’s sweeping beauty…to each particular grain of sand.
The beauty of the night lies in the twinkling of each star…
The beauty of the music in each string of the guitar…
The beauty of the forest lies in the uniqueness of each tree…
And the beauty of a family lies in you…and lies in me.
For each family is like bouquet of flowers…and how bright a family glows
is determined by the uniqueness of each person…
by the wonder of each rose.
88, O Mystical Rose by Dominic Windram
O Mystical Rose you once appear to me
Clad in your long, flowing gown of blue and silver.
Guide us as we are frozen in time’s wintry haze.
Guide us as we try to give life colour and form.
89, She Rose by Jim Yerman
I never met Maya Angelou but we would have been friends I often surmise.
I was not blessed to know her but I did witness her rise.
I admired the way her words sang to my heart…
words of her life her truth her fears…
and when I heard her recite her poetry it was music to my ears.
She did not have an easy life, she had her share of woes
but hope lifted her up and up and up…and she rose…oh how she rose.
She found during life’s hard winter the key to eternal spring
and when she felt like a caged bird she taught that bird to sing.
She would not let others tear her down.
She deflected hatred’s blows.
And somehow with a smile on her face
She rose…like the air…she rose.
She held her head up high as she walked proudly down the street.
She even learned to dance with diamonds on her thighs
despite people stepping on her feet.
How hard it must have been for her to be poetry in a world of prose.
but through her words and actions…
She rose…so high…she rose
I wish I would have met her
I would have told her how she glows…
How she gave my life more meaning
As she so magnificently rose.
I would have loved to be at her funeral.
I would have kept my eyes open…never closed.
I would have smiled as heaven called her
And she rose
She rose
She rose
→ Read more: Best Poems About Lavender or Famous Poems About Flowers
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Lindsey says
I can’t find any other copy of number 9 by Patrick White, can you please point me in the right direction? Thank you.
OZoFe.Com says
Hello, I do not understand you very well, you want to find poems by the poet Patrick White. Please see at: https://ozofe.com/patrick-white/
Lindsey says
Hello.
Thank you. What I mean is, the poem you have listed here as by Patrick White – I can’t find a record of anywhere else on the internet. Where did it come from, please? I’d like the book if it was published somewhere. Thank you.
Lindsey says
Hello.
What I mean is, the poem you have listed here as by PW – I can’t find a record of anywhere else on the internet. Where did it come from, please? I’d like the book if it was published somewhere. Thank you.
OZoFe.Com says
Hello,
Unfortunately we have to inform you that we cannot find another source of recording on the internet. Very little is known about the poems of Patrick White. If you find any information, please let us know.