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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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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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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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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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I'm Just A Tree
I'm just a tree.
I bare the thorns
to share my pain,
kind of like her
scars I've seen.
She used me...
Leaned against me,
Used my thorns
for her relief.
Now she tells me, the tree,
that she has nothing
left to be.
I see her now,
one thing connecting
her and me, the tree,
a rope at plea.
so much pain,
must have dropped her
at insane.
She needed a friend,
everyone thought she was lame.
I wish I wasn't a tree.
I want to be like you,
able to set her free.
But I'm just a tree.
poem by Hope Bennett
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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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Lenten Flowers
Primrose, anemone, bluebell, moss
Grow in the Kingdom of the Cross
And the ash-tree's purple bud
Dresses the spear that sheds his blood.
With the thorns that pierce his brow
Soft encircling petals grow
For in each flower the secret lies
Of the tree that crucifies.
Garden by the water clear
All must die who enter here!
poem by Kathleen Jessie Raine
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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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Better be grass
Love grows
When both gather in the way.
Love thrives
Even when they are away.
But it dies out
Once one of them turns away.
Grow therein
Sometimes thorns in the way.
Don’t turn away
For thorns to grow
25.08.99
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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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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Bright Fire
Written by bob welch.
Dont let waters of caution remove you
Dont let the fire of saints compel you
Dont let the lack of their spirit blind your life
Cause soon its all over, youre gonna come through alive
Well Ive been all over the world five times or more
And Ive seen the future burn blue before my eyes
And all through the dust and the green magnesium fire
Dont let the violence blind you, youre gonna come through alive
And the roses that are offing
They are real as evening wind
They are washed by love and suffering
Cause my love has colored them
Colored them
Oooooh oooohh-nothing but roses
Dont dam the river thats running through you
Stop saving up for time that may never become
Ive seen the future come true in twenty days
But dont let is scare you, stop thinking about yesterday
Ive had my share of blue revelations
And I know that time is a region to be passed
So all through the dust and green magnesium fire
I can rest easy now, and watch the carnival rolling by
Cause a rose that will be growing
In the place where I have hidden
It is washed by love and suffering
That my love has colored in
Look where the roses grow
Look where the roses grow
Look where the rooooooooses
Iiiiiieeeeeeiiiiiiaaaaahhhh
Look where the roses grow
Look where the roses grow
Look where the rooooooooses
Iiiiiieeeeeeiiiiiiaaaaahhhh
Look where the roses grow
Look where the roses grow
Look where the rooooooooses
Iiiiiieeeeeeiiiiiiaaaaahhhh
Look where the roses grow
Look where the roses grow
Look where the rooooooooses
Iiiiiieeeeeeiiiiiiaaaaahhhh
song performed by by Fleetwood Mac
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Roses
Roses grow on prickly vines,
most of the roses I have known
have been picked,
and in another’s garden grow.
Their perfume scents another’s home
to mature as time flows
bringing happiness as they grow
though summer’s sun
and winter’s snows.
My rose lives within my home
and still warms this heart of mine.
3 October 2009
poem by David Harris
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23feb15 The Day After: Sharp Thorns
there will be
earthquakes
many more
you fear injury
death one day
as God wills
we die maybe
I die here today
these are wake
up calls life is
life was always
lived in precious
heartbeats
time taken
for granted
so wake up
smell the roses
appreciate beauty
sweat floral smell
spread in beauty
grow beautiful
petals
many colours
scented
or grow
sharp thorns
to pierce
innocent flesh
poem by Terence George Craddock
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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