No house without a mouse, no barn without corn, no rose without a thorn.
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Missing
Has anybody seen my mouse?
I opened his box for half a minute,
Just to make sure he was really in it,
And while I was looking, he jumped outside!
I tried to catch him, I tried, I tried....
I think he's somewhere about the house.
Has anyone seen my mouse?
Uncle John, have you seen my mouse?
Just a small sort of mouse, a dear little brown one,
He came from the country, he wasn't a town one,
So he'll feel all lonely in a London street;
Why, what could he possibly find to eat?
He must be somewhere. I'll ask Aunt Rose:
Have you seen a mouse with a woffelly nose?
He's just got out...
Hasn't anybody seen my mouse?
poem by Alan Alexander Milne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Only One Horrible Thorn
I like to cry and throw a fit
Even the dark day I was born
I am a sad and drooping rose
With only one horrible thorn
I did not like people around
I would sit, curse at them and scorn
I am a sad and drooping rose
With only one horrible thorn
My heart could never feel the love
Deep inside I felt sad and torn
I am a sad and drooping rose
With only one horrible thorn
People still tried to get close to me
I would open my mouth and warn
I am a sad and drooping rose
With only one horrible thorn
I will never show a smile
This is an oath that I have sworn
I am a sad and drooping rose
With only one horrible thorn
But the day will come, I will die
Then haunt people after they mourn
I am a sad and drooping rose
With only one horrible thorn
poem by Paul Celano
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Why blame the thorn?
Why blame the thorn
the rose needed it..
when a bud
to protect from plucking hands
when blossomed
safe from suckling bands
the rose slept
while the thorn crept
wildly adept
upon the petalling fingers
when the rose aged
and sees no reason
for the thorn's missions
now the rose
ready to free
from the plant
and adorn the world
hates the thorn
that accompanies it.
poem by Lalitha Iyer
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Every Rose Has Its Thorn
[Originally by Poison]
We both lie silently still in the dead of the night
Although we both lie close together
We feel miles apart inside
Was it somethin' I said or somethin' I did
Did my words not come out right
Tho' I tried not to hurt you
Tho' I tried
But I guess that's why they say
Every rose has its thorn
Just like every night has its dawn
Just like every cowboy sings a sad, sad song
Every rose has its thorn
Yea it does
I listen to your favorite song playin' on the radio
Hear the DJ say love's a game of
Easy come and easy go
But I wonder does he know
Has it ever felt like this
And I know that you'd be here right now
If I could have let you know somehow I guess
Every rose has its thorn
Just like every night has its dawn
Just like every cowboy sings a sad, sad song
Every rose has its thorn
Though it's been a while now
I can still feel so much pain
Like the knife that cuts you
The wound heals, but the scar, that scar remains
Every rose has its thorn
Just like every night has its dawn
Just like every cowboy sings a sad, sad song
Every rose has its thorn
So I hear you've found somebody new
And that I never meant that much to you
To hear that tears me up inside
And to see you cuts me like a knife, I guess
Every rose has its thorn
Just like every night has its dawn
Just like every cowboy sings a sad, sad song
Every rose has its thorn
song performed by by Unseen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Alankar (Decor) -32
Chase (Rondeau Redoubled)
I won't let you go out o' little mouse
Shall see to it once and all for today
You run run-I run run-round round the house
But I win, you're caught and lost just today
Here I keep the trap to trap and dismay
Sugared magic sure you're fooled o'poor mouse
Cunning you think? brainy you think? ..today
I won't let you go out o' little mouse
Fought, caught, taught to rot petty petty mouse
Bitter squeaks, what a pest, what a hell, hey
Snouty mouse, messy beast, out from this house
Shall see to it once and all for today
May foe feline be fed on you today
Be hooked and thrown-that I shall venge you mouse
Ha, ha, ha then shall all end just today
You run run-I run run-round round the house
No reason, no season, no taste o' mouse
krrkk, krrkk-nibbling all things, all time whole day
Like thief hide and steal you do in my house
But I win, you're caught and lost just today
Here is the trap for your best goal today
Slip in soundless for the 'masaal' o'mouse
I'm sure you will tempted fall but at bay
Thrown awed by foe feline outside the house
I won't let you
poem by Indira Renganathan
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What Is A Barn?
A barn is many things-
A barn is a fun place
To run, romp, and play.
It is also a place of refuge,
On hot or stormy days.
A barn is a storage place
For all your tools, grain, and hay.
It is also a place to unwind,
When you have had a tough day.
A barn becomes God's sanctuary,
When you begin to pray
It is also a place of work,
When work is needing done.
A barn is a place
Where freindships can be made
It is also a place
Where new life is born.
A barn is a place
To try with all your might
And finally when its doors are closed,
'Tis safety from the night.
A barn is a place for horses,
And it is a place for cows
A barn is also a hayloft,
Full of little meows
A barn is the Inn
Where our Savior was born
God, our Savior,
Christ, our Lord.
A barn is a work place,
A barn is a play place
A barn is a great place
A barn is a training ring...
A barn is..
Well, when it comes right
Down to it,
A barn is everything!
poem by Macy Dvirnak
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Beauty
I pricked my finger on a thorn
and saw my blood run red.
I winced but focused on the rose
beside the thorn instead.
For pain is nothing compared to beauty.
It's just a temporary phase.
But the rose beside the thorn that hurts
is worthy of all praise.
I pressed the rose inside my book
so that it would last.
I saw the thorn that pricked my finger
but the moment of that had passed.
For lasting pain recedes in time
but beauty stays with you.
Now as I reopen the book once more
It's only the beauty I view.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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My Red House
My Red House
Be quiet as a mouse
I once played in that red house
Shy was I, like a little mouse
Tippy toed I went looking around
Giggling, without making any sound
Happy was I to run around and play
My very own home to live and stay
My Red House
Be quiet as a mouse
Darkness came swiftly one night
A sense of something was not quite right
The shadows came across the wall
Covering my eyes, ready for my fall
The sounds of whips and chains dragged
against the floor
The sheer terror numbed me from looking
passed that door
My Red House
Be quiet as a mouse
The darkness slowly turned to grey
The black clouds lifting away
No longer trapped, I did not need to stay
Free was I to let go and make my own way
So ever slowly, opening that door
I could see the light and so much more
My Red House
Be quiet as a mouse
Changing and always moving
Never stopping and always wanting
Step by step, I shed all those tears
One at a time, I climbed up those stairs
Moving closer to where I want to be
No longer a child but an adult me
My Red House
Be quiet as a mouse
I came home today
The Red House, same as it was yesterday
Slowly, walking up that hill
Everything seems to be in a stand still
I could only stay for a while
Before the darkness comes within a mile
My Red House
Be quiet as a mouse
The breath of life you gave to me
But took away the child within me
No longer a pawn to your destruction
I have found my peace and resolution
Turning away towards the path of light
I see a very beautiful sight
My Red House
There is no longer a mouse
poem by Miu Miu Ayushi
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The rose that bares no thorn
The rose that bares no thorn
~
How beautiful and pure
How sweetly kind and innocent
How loving to look upon
The rose that bares no thorn
Gentle to the tender touch
Pleasing to the hearts own eye
Of all that is beautiful
Is seen and known with joy
Seasoned into memory
To grow and flower once more
Let love be known and named
Then kept forevermore
As natural as the morning dew
So still, sweet and innocent
Never to cut or hurt
The rose that bares no thorn
Is a love in full bloom
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Where Are Your Roses
Tell me friends, where are your roses?
A blooming rose pricks me with its horn andI let a cry sweet,
”Oh rose I love you”.
In this garden of pests and reptiles
Who grows this rose of just one thorn?
That is born to prick me alone?
Never do I get an answer
But the gardener throws a smile at me.
He thinks that I love this rose.
An idea springs off at last and
An answer redeems me at times.
There is no rose without a thorn.
Tell me friends, where are your roses?
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Thorn
We both lie silently still in the dead of the night
Although we both lie close together
We feel miles apart inside
Was it somethin' I said or somethin' I did
Did my words not come out right
Tho' I tried not to hurt you
Tho' I tried
But I guess that's why they say
Every rose has its thorn
Just like every night has its dawn
Just like every cowboy sings a sad, sad song
Every rose has its thorn
Yeah it does
I listen to your favorite song playin' on the radio
Hear the DJ say love's a game of
Easy come and easy go
But I wonder does he know
Has it ever felt like this
And I know that you'd be here right now
If I could have let you know somehow I guess
Every rose has its thorn
Just like every night has its dawn
Just like every cowboy sings a sad, sad song
Every rose has its thorn
Though it's been a while now
I can still feel so much pain
Like the knife that cuts you
The wound heals, but the scar, that scar remains
I know I could have saved our love that night
If I'd known what to say
Instead if making love
We both made our separate ways
Now I hear you've found somebody new
And that I never meant that much to you
To hear that tears me up inside
And to see you cuts me like a knife, I guess
Every rose has its thorn
Just like every night has its dawn
Just like every cowboy sings a sad, sad song
Every rose has its thorn
song performed by by Unseen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Who said what is there in the name
Just change a letter
In the name of a person
Who just now made history
By winning an election
In the most powerful
Democracy of the world
You end up with
A person
Who keeps threatening
The very existence of
The mankind
In the name of
Protecting the interests of
A particular believers
The former rose steadily
To what he is today
And won the hearts of his
Fellow countrymen in particular
And of the world in general by his
Inspiring words of wisdom
While the latter
Sprang to limelight and
Drew the attention of the world
By massacring thousands of lives
In a single attack
In the very land of the former
If the former is democratically elected
The latter is demonically nominated
If the former is in an attempt to
Strengthen the bond of human love
The latter is severing the same
In the name of faith and following
If the former is for development and growth
The latter is all set for destruction and death
As the same plant
Strikes a rose and a thorn too
The human race has
Both the former and latter
Yes, rose is a rose is a rose is a rose
And thorn is nothing but a thorn
Who said what is there in the name?
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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A Rose
A Rose without its thorn
Would keeps its gentle form
With its fragrant scent
Being as it was meant.
But without that painful thorn
Sorrowfully, I would sit and moan
For a Rose wouldn't be a Rose
And a smile couldn't be known.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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The Thorn That Grows
The thorn that grows beside the rose
can let its prick be felt.
It also is a sharp reminder
of the pain that can be dealt
to the lover of beauty
that takes no care
to adore the rose
but not beware.
For all the beauty in the world
lies side by side with pain.
And all the glories of what you love
cannot always remain.
I do not languish myself with pity
nor do I live with pride.
But to live in fear of pain that comes
is to believe that beauty has died.
The thorn that grows protects the rose
as love protects the heart.
But if the thorn is missing
might not the rose depart?
poem by Edwina Reizer
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The Manger Mouses Story
john john the story telling mouse
sat high on a toadstool house
telling the story as it was told to him
and at the children he did grin.
he started to tell the story of peter mouse
and how story telling came about.
this was the story as it was told to me
and been passed down throughout our history.
when the angels came down to bless
the child in the barn, they did not see.
a distant relative of you and me.
he was peter mouse who would
crawl into the barnyard house.
he was there putting away his goodies
at that time, and everything that night was going fine.
when entered the human couple
with all their belongings on the donkeys back.
the man human started piling up the hay
where his wife would now stay.
from his hiding place he could see
that her stomach was as big as can be.
he laid his wife down upon the hay
and to the lord he did pray.
he said: ' this is the only place
that we could find, and it's just about that time.'
soon afterwards she felt the pains
and prepared herself for what was to come
our GODS first born son.
this manchild was as beautiful as can be
and above the barn a star shone so brightly.
he saw a choir of angels come down
'and praised the child on the ground.'
then he saw the shepherd boy
and soon three kings from afar
who followed this shining star.
the angels blessed all that was within
and he felt a chill begin.
they stayed until she felt fine
then through the mountains they did climb.
peter mouse was right in back
never stopping or letting up slack.
he saw this child grow up to be a man
and preached GODS words throughout the lands.
he followed every step of the way
and witnessed all that JESUS had done
from dawn to setting sun.
JESUS had seen him many years back
and from that day forward
carried him in his pack.
he lived to be a hundred and ten years old
and told the story to all his fold.
since then its been passed on
from generation to generation
for he has been our salvation.
poem by Louis Rams
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Who Will Heal This Wound?
With all the carefulness I could muscle
I went for the rose, the red beautiful rose
Ouch! The thorn struck,
The sharp spike-like thorn struck
The heart pierced, spilled the contents
The wound has refused healing
The rose, the red beautiful rose, stares unseemly and unconcernedly
Who will gather the contents?
Who will heal this wound?
poem by Obed Akuma
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The Lily Has A Smooth Stalk
The lily has a smooth stalk,
Will never hurt your hand;
But the rose upon her briar
Is lady of the land.
There's sweetness in an apple tree,
And profit in the corn;
But lady of all beauty
Is a rose upon a thorn.
When with moss and honey
She tips her bending briar,
And half unfolds her glowing heart,
She sets the world on fire.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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The Barn and the Down
t stood in the sunset sky
Like the straight-backed down,
Many a time - the barn
At the edge of town,
So huge and dark that it seemed
It was the hill
Till the gable's precipice proved
It impossible.
Then the great down in the west
Grew into sight,
A barn stored full to the ridge
With black of night;
And the barn fell to a barn
Or even less
Before critical eyes and its own
Late mightiness.
But far down and near barn and I
Since then have smiled,
Having seen my new cautiousness
By itself beguiled
To disdain what seemed the barn
Till a few steps changed
It past all doubt to the down;
So the barn was avenged.
poem by Edward Thomas
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Cat and Mouse
I am the mouse running from the cat,
or am I the cat chasing the mouse?
According to Chinese astrology I'm a Rat,
so who is the boss of the house?
Cat and mouse, chasing in my head.
Who I am? I don't know. It's better to forget...
poem by Jacqui Broad
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I'm His Rose
I was a rose in a garden of many thorns,
Until the day that love was born.
His hand touched my heart, giving me hope,
He picked me up, untying the thorn rope.
I'm his rose whether he knows or not,
I'm his rose because he protects me,
I'm his rose because he set me free.
I'm his rose because he never opened his hand,
I'm his rose because he's the right man.
poem by Adnana Saric
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