The gardener who loves roses is slave to a thousand thorns.
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For the sake of a single rose, the gardener becomes servant to a thousand thorns.
A Rose Amidst the thorns
Roses in profusion
bloomed along our garden wall.
They were both red and yellow-
tea hybrids, I recall.
There were thorns too,
as I well knew,
standing guard among the blooms.
A careless creature soon would learn
to give the rose wide berth
An agony of thorns awaits
the careless of the earth.
Yet thorns permit the bees to come
and pollen to transpose.
and, if careful, they'll admit
my own scent seeking nose
I think thorns serve their purpose well
else roses would be trampled
The thorns are roses' guardians
and not inconsequential.
Without a thorn, the rose, forlorn,
is destined for the ashes.
poem by John F. McCullagh
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It is true, I see it more often
That for the sake of a single rose
The gardener becomes the servant
To a hundred thorns
So let the gardener come
To my house
And I will teach him how to be wise.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Some people are always grumbling because roses have thorns; I am thankful that thorns have roses.
quote by Alphonse Karr
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Some people are always grumbling because roses have thorns. I am thankful that thorns have roses.
quote by Alphonse Karr
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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She who loves roses must be patient and not cry out when she is pierced by thorns.
quote by Olga Brouman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A rose I am no more
If roses are the colors pink, red, yellow & white,
What happens if my rose is the color of black.
If all roses have their thorns,
What happens if my rose has lost its thorns.
If a rose that has no color & no thorns is no longer a rose,
Then a rose of color & thorns I am no more.
A rose I am no more, A rose I am no more.
poem by Beating Tree
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Some people get angry because God put thorns on roses, while others praise him for putting roses among thorns.
You can complain because roses have thorns, or you can rejoice because thorns have roses.
Tom Wilson in Ziggy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Be The Garden Not The Gardener
the thoughts growing in your mind
are thorns
you are the one growing them in your mind
let no thought grow there
let yourself be not the grower of these thoughts they are the thorns
let your mind be just the garden
let Him spread the seeds and let these seeds grow like
some clouds seeded in the skies
let Him grow the thoughts in you
you see them
they are the red roses
because you are the garden
you are not the gardener
you have never been and you are never the good one
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Roses in the Valley
roses roses in the valley below
peaking up from the dead ground we know
one lil angle stands there crying
but not a single rose is dying
she tries to take flight with thorns in her wings
white is turning to deep deep red
red just like the roses she looks down upon
with thorns made red, and tears rolling down
the angel is dying with every tear that falls
the roses with petals of silk
shall catch the angel who's wings are no longer white as milk
now she lays down to stay
in a valley of roses that will live everyday
i am the angel
the angel that can no longer fly away
my dreams live on
like the roses, each and every day
poem by Sally Minns
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To Live With The Thorns
the roses learn to live
with their thorns, now they all recognize
them
as protection, from the hands of the
mad woman
cutting roses as offerings of her
nightmares,
why can't we learn too to live
with the thorns?
the pains and bitterness are in fact
our protectors too
from too much complacency
from the dangers of
familiarity.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Crowned
You came to me bearing bright roses,
Red like the wine of your heart;
You twisted them into a garland
To set me aside from the mart.
Red roses to crown me your lover,
And I walked aureoled and apart.
Enslaved and encircled, I bore it,
Proud token of my gift to you.
The petals waned paler, and shriveled,
the thorns started through.
er thorns to proclaim me your lover,
A diadem woven with rue.
poem by Amy Lowell
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Roses on the Earth
Roses on the Earth
Shameful work you are doing
Laughing and smiling still then.
You are floating in the sea of poverty and sorrows
still you have
no hesitation,
No tension,
And no worries.
Can you say me to secret of your smile?
We are in surprise.
People see you and have a pity on your fate.
But you are always away from
the luxury of the fate.
Your profession is garbage collection.
No body can enter easily in your profession except you.
I have seen Roses in the garden.
They are blooming with the thorns.
You are also smiling with unlimited sorrows and poverty
Even on the heap of the garbage
which is more painful than the thorns.
We can say them
“The Roses on the Earth”
poem by Vijay Gupta
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Red Roses
(jimbeau hinson, david murphy)
Red roses just won't work now
Here we go us again
You've been gone and here you stand
With a dozen i'm sorry's in your hand
Victim of your podent charms
I took you back with open arms
But along with the roses came the thorns
Chorus:
And that's why red roses just won't work now
Cause you've done too much
To talk things out
You could tell me you love me
But that's the one thing i'll always doubt
Red roses just won't work now
Gone for good's the trust i had
You let me done the garden path
Just too many times to take you back
So faith is why don't you
Save the roses for you know who
I already know how long they'll last
Repeat chorus
song performed by by Reba Mcentire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Less’er Love, And A Rose, In My Garden
I am gardener…. I prune, sheer… at times
…at times I have lesser love
And in less is more, very much more
…………….and there is this garden
..the garden, ours by the Grace of the Life Force, supreme God
..there is this Rose, and those Roses there… all chose a place to be
I, the Gardner choose the blooms from which Rose goes to the glass next my bed
I love this Rose, and less but similar those other
….they decide when to bloom
In sping late winter their souls weep, as I sheer, as I must
In spring and summer and early winter we rejoice as they bloom abundantly
…..every night one bloom from The Rose that’ad also chosen me
in the glass of water next my bed read to me, and comfort me
the delicate-, bewitching fragrance the bookmark for tomorrow night
I love that Rose as my chosen
I am gardener…. I prune, sheer… at times
…..only one Rose reads to me… I a lesser Gardener
Lesser, cause I’m only able t’love one Rose…..this Rose here
….those Roses there, some’r lessor Roses, some’r superior Roses, are my friends
Lesser in texture, shape and fiber and fragrance
Some superior in texture, or shape and or fiber and or fragrance
Friends equal in dimension with the Rose, but less in love than the Rose
…..every night one bloom from The Rose, that’s chosen me
in the glass of water next my bed read to me, and comfort me
the delicate-, bewitching fragrance the bookmark for tomorrow night
I love that Rose as my chosen
I, the gardener…. I prune, sheer…. at times
These other Roses who chose my garden
...so valuable in a muchness o’ Friendship,
…the quality their love much the same as that The Rose
Different the lesser my love, even though my caring equals that towards The Rose
We are blessed, those of us in the garden
…the magnificence of this garden in my life is the sumtotal of you all in my garden
I drink your fragrance intoxicated with love
I love The Rose, and my friends these other Roses in the garden Bless this love
poem by Johan Fourie
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Ch 02 The Morals Of Dervishes Story 48
I saw bouquets of fresh roses
Tied upon a cupola of grass.
I asked: ‘What is despicable grass
To sit also in the line of the roses?’
The grass wept and said: ‘Hush!
Companionship does not obliterate nobility.
Although I have no beauty, colour and perfume,
Am I not after all the grass of his garden?
I am the slave of a bountiful lord,
Cherished from old by his liberality.
Whether I possess virtue or not
I hope for grace from the Lord
Although I possess no property
No capital to offer as obedience.
He knows the remedy for the slave
To whom no support remains.
It is customary that the owner gives a writ
Of emancipation to an old slave.
O God, who hast adorned the universe,
Be bountiful to thy old slave.’
Sa’di, take the road to the Ka’bah of submission.
O man of God, follow the way of God.
Unlucky is he who turns his head
Away from this door for he will find no other door.
A Bouquet Of Roses
A BOUQUET OF ROSES
When greeted by a bouquet of thirty roses
on the anniversary day,
A mixed feeling rose within, and I didn’t
know what to say!
But I thanked the Lord for that special day!
For long I had developed an attitude towards
roses you know,
As I watched its thorns and reddish glow!
When painted like the ‘Sunflower’ they neither
die or fade, -
A visual feast for the eyes, while olfactory nerves
remain dead!
Roses like humans when cut off from their
roots,
They gradually wither and fade, as roses should!
But its lingering perfume forever remains,
As I inhale, - I am wafted beyond the world of
the dead!
- Raj Nandy
- New Delhi
- 12 Feb 09
Red Roses (Won't Work Now)
(jimbeau hinson, david murphy)
Red roses just wont work now
Here we go us again
Youve been gone and here you stand
With a dozen Im sorrys in your hand
Victim of your podent charms
I took you back with open arms
But along with the roses came the thorns
Chorus:
And thats why red roses just wont work now
Cause youve done too much
To talk things out
You could tell me you love me
But thats the one thing Ill always doubt
Red roses just wont work now
Gone for goods the trust I had
You let me done the garden path
Just too many times to take you back
So faith is why dont you
Save the roses for you know who
I already know how long theyll last
Repeat chorus
song performed by by Reba Mcentire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!