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Wild Irish Rose

In a field by a river
My love and I did lie
And on my naked shoulder
She too proud to cry
She said that I must leave her
An icy tear she froze
How could I melt the heart
Of a wild irish rose
Well a gypsy she has made of me
A servent of the street
And back to bed Ive travelled
To taste a love as sweet
Well the heart it knows no reasons
And reason never knows
As I lie with them Im thinking
Of a wild irish rose
Well I saw the city of angels
It brought a devil out in me
And hells hotel on sunset
Showed a whore no mercy
As the orange sky was screaming
From the roof I let her go
These are the dizzying heights that brought me
My wild irish rose
Now red is the rose
That she layed on my grave
A life is what she wanted
And a life I surely gave
Like a hundred men before me
They lay lying here in rows
Young men, bloody
As a wild irish rose

song performed by by U2
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Old Upright Piano

For as long as I remember, when friday night came round
The family would gather out at grandpas house.
With supper over and the dishes done
It was then the best time came
At an old upright piano that only grandma played.
She played beautiful dreamer, my wild irish rose;
She never played em perfect, but there was love in every note.
Grandpa sat beside her, in harmony they sang,
At the old upright piano that only grandma played.
Grandpa was a stubborn man, they said it was his style.
Grandma called him ornery, but she said it with a smile.
Even he could not disguise the love he felt so strong;
We all could see it in his eyes when she played his favorite song.
She played beautiful dreamer, my wild irish rose;
She never played em perfect, but there was love in every note.
Grandpa sat beside her, in harmony they sang,
At the old upright piano that only grandma played.
I was almost 17 when my grandma died;
I stayed all night with grandpa; the old man never cried.
He sat at her piano, there was nothing we could say
It was the first time in my life I ever heard my grandpa play.
It wasnt beautiful dreamer or my wild irish rose
It was a song he played from memory & he never missed a note
I sat right there beside him until the morning came
What a friend we have in jesus was the only song he played.
She played beautiful dreamer, my wild irish rose;
She never played em perfect, but there was love in every note.
Grandpa sat beside her, in harmony they sang,
At the old upright piano that only grandma played.

song performed by by Nitty Gritty Dirt Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Buy Me a Rose

Buy me a rose, Buy me a rose
Buy me sweet reasons to be forever close
Tender me with words propose
Wear my heart on your sleeves
for i am the rose you chose
Reveal your gentle pose
Make me your fair lady before chairs and doors

Buy me a rose, Buy me a rose
And out for a dozen for me he goes
Past mountain high and wild river flows
I must be i suppose
His romantic quest and cause

Buy me a rose, Buy me a rose
Venture deeper into me
make me eternally yours
Share with me the gift my belly grows
suddenly loving me his world not knows
And in to the distance sails as the new wind blows
Buy me a rose, Buy me a rose
Better yet maybe not
a precious one in me grows

poem by Wes Mbanje
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Ballad Of Rose O Shea

She lived with her blind mother beside a purling stream
In their little white washed cottage in the Valley of Rosheen
Her hair as dark as raven's wing and her eyes blue as ripened sloes
The sightless widow's only child the lovely maid named Rose.

Her blind and bedridden mother of chronic cancer died
And she sold the little white washed cot in Rosheen country side
And she left the green vale of Rosheen and Rosheen bogland brown
And sailed across the Irish sea for to live in London Town.

She settled in to City life this sweet Irish colleen
And she grew used to London traffic and the bustling city scene
She worked and saved some money and she earned her livelihood
As a bar maid in a bar room in London's Cricklewood.

It was here she met the man she loved the man she was to wed
An English son of an Irishman a red haired chap named Fred
And on a blustery morn in March a rainy saturday
Miss Rose Reen from Rosheen became Mrs Rose O Shea.

Ah but Fred he was a wild one a wild, wild man was he
He liked his drink and women and he spent his money free
He liked whiskey and women and was unfaithful to his wife
And he proved unsuited for marriage and the married way of life.

In a London hospital maternity ward on a pleasant August morn
A baby son to Rose O Shea and her husband Fred was born
And Rose was now a mother and Fred he was a dad
And Freddy junior was the name they gave the little lad.

But the added responsibility did not reform Fred Shea
And in the bar rooms at the weekends he still spent most of his pay
He had grown tired of his wife Rose like a bored child with his toy
And he showed very little interest in his little baby boy.

Fred found himself a new love a sexy little miss
And his relationship with her went further than a kiss
He walked out on his Irish wife and his young baby son
And he went to live with his new love his golden haired loved one.

The dark haired female from Rosheen erred in her marriage choice
And for her costly error she paid a heartbreak price
She took her son to orphan home with aching breaking heart
And with her blue eyed six months baby boy a tearful Rose did part.

In life it's very easy lose and very hard to win
And women often times suffer at the hands of callous men
And some women forced to part with their young babe like Mrs Rose O Shea
And for some life's a punishment or so 'twould seem that way.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Ten Roses

For every tear you cry,
I cry a hundred thousand more,

I'll give you ten roses,
For everything you're fighting for.

The first will be a red rose,
For courage and for health,

The second a bright yellow rose,
For gaining all life's wealth,

The third will be a soft pink rose,
So you may be happy in love,

The fourth will be a white rose,
Brought by a turtledove,

The fifth will be an orange rose,
To give you back your fire,

The sixth will be a deep pink rose,
So you may have what you desire,

The seventh will be a coral rose,
To gain you many friends,

The eighth will be a purple rose,
To guide you through life's bends,

The ninth will be a pale yellow rose,
To give you hope to try,

The tenth will be a black rose,
So you can mourn me when I die.

I have to leave my dearest friend,
But may the roses last you til my end,

I'm sorry I could not say goodbye,
Though ten roses I leave by your side.

I leave you with a kiss,
Along with these rose flowers,

I know I will be missed,
But I pray the roses will give you power,

Power to go on my love,
Power to be strong,

Power to get over me,
And let your life carry on

poem by Ruth warren
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Wild Rose

The first wild rose in wayside hedge,
This year I wandering see,
I pluck, and send it as a pledge,
My own Wild Rose, to Thee.

For when my gaze first met thy gaze,
We were knee-deep in June:
The nights were only dreamier days,
And all the hours in tune.

I found thee, like the eglantine,
Sweet, simple, and apart;
And, from that hour, thy smile hath been
The flower that scents my heart.

And, ever since, when tendrils grace
Young copse or weathered bole
With rosebuds, straight I see thy face,
And gaze into thy soul.

A natural bud of love Thou art,
Where, gazing down, I view,
Deep hidden in thy fragrant heart,
A drop of heavenly dew.

Go, wild rose, to my Wild Rose dear;
Bid her come swift and soon.
O would that She were always here!
It then were always June.

poem by Alfred Austin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Fruit Of The Wild Rose

Goodnight my love
Im so alone
And so surrounded
By your sweet memory
I cannot sleep
For all these dreams
They come to play
Till dawn comes stealin them away..
The fruit of the wild rose
Hangs here with summer gone
Voluptuous crimson
As the days become colder
The fruit of the wild rose
In a warmer country
Where the sea meets the land
You may walk with your baby
In the afternoon
Perhaps some aroma
From a street caf
Might sadden your eyes
Carry you away
The fruit of the wild rose
Sweet and so sour on the tongue
Swollen and crimson
As the light fades and shortens
The thorny wild rose
She gave me a summer but shes gone
As england faces the winter
In your eyes, in your mind, in your mind
Clearer than a photograph
No passing of time
Ever could fade
You and i
Shimmering ghostly
Like a wild garden from another life
Will you throw your arm
Turn your body round
Breathe a sudden sigh
Wherever you lie sleeping
Stir your hips
Feel the seed inside so sweet
Dreaming westbound waves
And a man comin back from the sea...
Dreaming
Dance for me rose

song performed by by Marillion
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rose In A Box

I take a box of solid steel, my final gift to you
Our parting token, last goodbye, before we walk our paths anew.
Inside I place a Rose; like my heart, it has blackened with time
'Twas blooming crimson when first we met, but withered with each clock's chime.
That Rose is as our love was; so blooming and fresh at the start
But a Rose is not meant to be kept in a box; it needs freedom, just like my heart.
A Wild Rose can grow any way it wants, but is pruned under human hand
It has to follow a set of rules its Wanderlust can't understand.
So now I hand you a Rose in a box, because I want you to see
The reason I had to leave you; my heart is a Gypsy, it loves to feel free.
When you're ready, dearest, toss the Rose in the turbulent sea
Let go of my heart forever; say goodbye and set me free xxx

poem by Kristina Jones
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love and Friendship

Love is like the wild rose-briar,
Friendship like the holly-tree --
The holly is dark when the rose-briar blooms
But which will bloom most contantly?
The wild-rose briar is sweet in the spring,
Its summer blossoms scent the air;
Yet wait till winter comes again
And who wil call the wild-briar fair?
Then scorn the silly rose-wreath now
And deck thee with the holly's sheen,
That when December blights thy brow
He may still leave thy garland green.

poem by Emily Jane Brontë
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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poem by Gloraly Gomez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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First rose

A heart of youthful year was yearning,
Crying out the pain; the burning
Tears would e’er remain until
An answer from the man would see them die.

A sympathetic mirror blessed her –
Softened up the curves, caressed her
Skin to help regain a calm –
Assuage a heaving breast and blushing eye.

And through a struggling mind, a chiming:
Someone at the door; the timing
Perfect and exquisite in the
Reconciliation of her woes.

She took the oak to make the parting,
‘Here! ’ a presentation startling.
Drawing deep through radiant lips, she
Kissed her very dream: a crimson rose.

rose rose rose rose: : rose rose rose rose
rose rose rose rose: : rose rose rose rose
rose rose rose rose: : rose rose rose rose
rose rose rose rose: : rose rose rose rose

poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Where The Wild Roses Grow

Word and music by: nick cave
They call me the wild rose
But my name is elisa day
Why they call me it I do not know
For my name is elisa day
From the first day I saw her I knew she was the one
As she stared in my eyes and smiled
For her lips were the colour of the roses
That grew down the river, all bloody and wild
When he knocked on my door and entered the room
My trembling subsided in his sure embrace
He would be my first man, and with a careful hand
He wiped at the tears that ran down my face
Chorus
On the second day I brought her a flower
She was more beautiful than any woman Id seen
I said, do you know where the wild roses grow
So sweet and scarlet and free?
On the second day he came with a single red rose
Said: will you give me your loss and your sorrow?
I nodded my head, as I lay on the bed
He said, if I show you the roses will you follow?
Chorus
On the third day he took me to the river
He showed me the roses and we kissed
And the last thing I heard was a muttered word
As he stood smiling above me with a rock in his fist
On the last day I took her where the wild roses grow
And she lay on the bank, the wind light as a thief
As I kissed her goodbye, I said, all beauty must die
And lent down and planted a rose between her teeth
Chorus

song performed by by Kylie Minogue
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What A Rose Can Say

A rose can say I love you and want you to be mine,
A rose can say I thank you for being so very kind,
A rose can say congratulations, whatever the occasion may be,
A rose can say I miss you and wish you were here with me,
A rose can say I'm sorry if I've hurt you in any way,
A rose can say get well soon, May God bless you today,
A rose can say I wish you happiness, and the best for you each day.
A rose can say farewel when someone goes away,
A rose can say hello, I'm thinking of you today,
There's just so many wonderful things that a rose can say,
A rose can say goodbye when a love one is laid to rest,
No matter what there is to say, a rose can say it best.

poem by Margie Driver
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Such a Rose In The Heart Of Rose

Such a Rose In The Heart Of Rose) it
blooms in my heart that rose(upon
me that grows, no matter where I leave
my heart dear(it loves on me to grow.
Bound up in thorns my love, I lay on beds
of them forever waiting to grow, with you
dear, as I bend to smell, that one red rose.

My heart is your rose, it climbs, and beats
when pricked, by the thorn, to be carried up
to every rose on the bush.My rose, your heart,
it blooms in love, each beat lifts to crown the
the heart, as the sun heats them both, to feed
each root that folds my heart back into the rose.
Such a Rose In The Heart Of Rose;

poem by Is It Poetry
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love and Friendship

Love is like the wild rose-briar;
Friendship like the holly-tree.
The holly is dark when the rose-briar blooms,
But which will bloom most constantly?

The wild rose-briar is sweet in spring,
Its summer blossoms scent the air;
Yet wait till winter comes again,
And who will call the wild-briar fair?

Then, scorn the silly rose-wreath now,
And deck thee with the holly's sheen,
That, when December blights thy brow,
He still may leave thy garland green.

poem by Emily Brontë from Selections from the literary remains of Emily and Anne Brontë (1850)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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A Rose in the heart of rose

A Rose In The Heart Of Rose
it blooms in my heart
that rose upon me that grows,
no matter where I leave my heart
dear it loves on me to grow.
Bound up in thorns my love,
I lay on beds of them forever
waiting to grow, with you
dear, as I bend to smell, that one red rose.

My heart is your rose,
it climbs, and beats
when pricked, by the thorn,
to be carried up
to every rose on the bush.
My rose, your heart,
it blooms in love, each beat lifts to
crown the the heart, as the sun heats them
both, to feed each root that folds
my heart back into the rose.
Such a Rose In The Heart Of Rose

poem by Anees Akbar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Rose

Sometimes you come upon a unpicked wild rose
And sometimes you come upon people
Who are beautiful like an unpicked wild rose

There so beautiful and smell so great
But somehow seem much more beautiful
Every time you look at them

And when you come upon a rose that's unpicked
You can't help but want to cut the rose off
And carry it around and show it off

We all know roses have thorns on them
But there so beautiful that you
Must have one for your own

So you try and cut a rose off
And get pricked on your finger
You bleed but you still keep trying

After you get the rose
You run home
To show it off

You eventually get a band-aid to cover the prick
Where the rose bit you
After you take the band-aid off you see the scar

It eventually goes away in time
But you will always remember
Where the rose bit you
But it doesn't stop you
From trying to get another
Beautiful rose

poem by Beth Ann
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Transparent Rose

Transparent Rose
In my heart lies a Vase
With 5 roses
5 roses all for you
With five different colors
All to show you what you mean to me
The First Rose
The yellow Rose
The yellow rose is the rose for you from me
To let you know you’re my friend, my best friend
That is a way to show you I’ll be always there for you
The Second Rose
The Blue Rose
The blue rose is to show you
With all my heart what you mean to me
With this rose I show you
There is no battle that I won’t fight for you there is no ocean big enough that can separate my love from you
There is no mountain high enough that I can’t climb for you
With this rose is the beginning of my love to you
The Third Rose
The Red Rose
Within this rose lies all the love I have for you
All the caring
All the loving
I will give to you
This rose show you how you should be treated
I will always romance your heart just to see you smile
Like an Angel
The Fourth Rose
The White Rose
With this rose I show you
All the passion that lies in my heart
All the tenderness I have towards you
All the love that I will show you each time I have and can
With all my strength and love
My heart cries for you
The Fifth Rose
A Rose that has no color
A rose that is undying
A rose that you can see trough and that there is nothing to hide
A rose so pure and true
That all that lies in it is you
So perfectly, so preciously
A girl that is so pure of heart like an angel
This Rose is a Transparent Rose
With this rose I show you all that I am
With this rose I show you I have nothing to hide
Here you can see your reflection that lies in my heart
A love so deeply living in me
I love you with all my heart
And there is no way that these roses will die
Your love is the water to keep them alive

poem by Carlos Wever
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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5 Roses

poem by Ricky Baker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Black Rose

A black rose can stop the beat of ones heart…
A black rose brings the scent of death as it tears love apart…
A black rose makes nightmares reality…
A black rose fills my life with uncertainty…
A black rose is forgotten hopes and dreams…
A black rose is a broken girl laying in tears and painful screams…
A black rose is the pain of a shattered life…
A black rose is lost love in my hopeless life…
A black rose is the memories that haunt my restless soul…
A black rose took everything from me that once made me whole…
Including…you…

poem by Sad Truth
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When the Irish Flag Went By

’Twas Eight-Hour Day, and proudly
Old Labour led the way;
The drums were bearing loudly,
The crowded streets were gay;
But something touched my heart like pain,
I could not check the sigh
That rose within my bosom when
The Irish Flag went by.

Bright flags were raised about it
And one of them my own:
And patriots trod beneath it—
But it seemed all alone.
I thought of ruined Ireland
While crystals from the sky
Fell soft like tears by angels shed,
As the Irish Flag went by.

I love the dark green standard
As Irish patriots do;
It waves above the rebels,
And I’m a rebel too,
I thought of Ireland’s darkest years,
Her griefs that follow fast;
For drooping as ’twere drenched with tears
The Irish Flag went past.

And though ’twas not in Erin
That my forefathers trod;
And though my wandering footsteps
Ne’er pressed the “dear old sod”,
I felt the wrongs the Irish feel
Beneath the northern sky.
And felt the rebel in my heart
When the Irish Flag went by.

I tell you, men of England,
Who rule the land by might;
I tell you, Irish traitors
Who sell the sons of light,
The tyranny shall fail at last,
That changeful days are nigh;
And you shall dip your red flag yet,
When the Irish Flag goes by.

poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Wild Irish Rose

Related quotes

Old Upright Piano

Buy Me a Rose

The Ballad Of Rose O Shea

Ten Roses

A Wild Rose

The Fruit Of The Wild Rose

Rose In A Box

Love and Friendship

Lovers Or Friends?

First rose

Where The Wild Roses Grow

What A Rose Can Say

Such a Rose In The Heart Of Rose

Love and Friendship

A Rose in the heart of rose

The Rose

Transparent Rose

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A Black Rose

When the Irish Flag Went By

En.Citatepedia®.ro

Wild Irish Rose

Related quotes

Old Upright Piano

Buy Me a Rose

The Ballad Of Rose O Shea

Ten Roses

A Wild Rose

The Fruit Of The Wild Rose

Rose In A Box

Love and Friendship

Lovers Or Friends?

First rose

Where The Wild Roses Grow

What A Rose Can Say

Such a Rose In The Heart Of Rose

Love and Friendship

A Rose in the heart of rose

The Rose

Transparent Rose

5 Roses

A Black Rose

When the Irish Flag Went By

En.Citatepedia^®.ro