'Tis the last rose of summer Left blooming alone; All her lovely companions Are faded and gone.
quote by Thomas More
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tis the Last Rose of Summer
Tis the last rose of summer
Left blooming alone;
All her lovely companions
Are faded and gone:
No flower of her kindred,
No rose-bud is nigh,
To reflect back her blushes,
Or give sigh for sigh.
I'll not leave thee, thou lone one!
To pine on the stem;
Since the lovely are sleeping,
Go, sleep thou with them.
Thus kindly I scatter
Thy leaves o'er the bed,
Where thy mates of the garden
Lie scentless and dead.
So soon may I follow,
When friendships decay,
And from Love's shining circle
The gems drop away.
When true hearts lie wither'd,
And fond ones are flown,
Oh! who would inhabit
This bleak world alone?
poem by Thomas Moore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Last Rose Of Summer
Thomas Moore, Nina Simone
'Tis the last rose of summer, left blooming all alone
All her lovely companions are faded and gone.
No flower of her kindred, no rose bud is nigh
To reflect back her blushes and give sigh for sigh.
I'll not leave thee, thou lone one! to pine on the stem
Since the lovely are sleeping, go sleep thou with them
'Thus kindly I scatter thy leaves o'er the bed
Where thy mates of the garden lie scentless and dead.
So soon may I follow, when friendships decay
And from love's shining circle the gems drop away
When true hearts lie wither'd and fond ones are flown
Oh! who would inhabit this bleak world alone!
song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Last Rose Of Summer
Thomas moore, nina simone
tis the last rose of summer, left blooming all alone
All her lovely companions are faded and gone.
No flower of her kindred, no rose bud is nigh
To reflect back her blushes and give sigh for sigh.
Ill not leave thee, thou lone one! to pine on the stem
Since the lovely are sleeping, go sleep thou with them
thus kindly I scatter thy leaves oer the bed
Where thy mates of the garden lie scentless and dead.
So soon may I follow, when friendships decay
And from loves shining circle the gems drop away
When true hearts lie witherd and fond ones are flown
Oh! who would inhabit this bleak world alone!
song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Once upon a Fairy Tale
Once upon a fairy tale
Or maybe just a dream
I looked upon something special
Something called: 'Maybe You And Me'
But as Fairy Tales likely end
Or as dreams are likely to die
There was nothing left to hold onto
Nothing left of the: 'Maybe you and i'
Once upon a faded fantasy
Or maybe just a faded Rose
A faded: 'Maybe love' is remembered
Something i guess i only know
But as memories of your smile linger
With the fantasy
And fragrance with the Rose
I am still thinking 'bout what might have been
Even if you never want to know
poem by Theodora Onken
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And blooming
Blooming blooming
You are blooming.
You are white tulip
You are tube rose
You are passiflora
You are mutabilis
You are marigold
And what not
What not you are.
Your world
Wonderful world
I am
With You
You are blooming
Blooming blooming
And blooming.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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My Lovely Rose
I have a rose in the garden,
Unfolding red lovely petals,
With thorns surrounding it,
Could not touch and smell its fragrance.
I left the garden,
I left my lovely rose,
Far away yet so near,
Could not touch and smell its fragrance.
Time have passed,
Have seen again my rose,
Beautiful and sweetly scented at its full blossom,
Could not touch and smell its fragrance.
My rose is not mine anymore,
Yet I let my rose feel
Thy undoubting care and heart rejoicing,
Could glimpse again my lovely rose.
poem by Dong Agosto
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Just a rose.
I'm a rose, but a damaged rose. The winds have torn my peddles and my color has faded. I've broken my stem through these uncontrolable storms, But a rose that has been picked and fiddled with. A rose who has learned to grow it's thorns, but a rose without it's bush.A rose that still has yet to say 'I've survived' this grassless dirt spreaded field.I'm a rose, just a damaged faded rose.
poem by Ashley Derenda
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Rose poem for was it Fran
The rose
you may colour it yourself
sang for many days
about God
for those who would listen
then fading and dying
or so it might appear
sang to a passing poet
who found a place for it
and the rose spent the winter
blooming in his poem
while the poet sang
about God
until the next year came around
when the rose
took up the song again
while the poem faded a little
but did not die
[*who didn't like the colour of the rose in the other poem]
poem by Michael Shepherd
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The Last Rose Of Autumn
Upon the leaf litter that covers the ground
The faded rose petals lay scattered around
The last rose of Autumn has answered the call
Of the cold grim reaper and so too must we all.
The last rose of Autumn she too had her day
She bloomed bright and lovely through June from late May
But the beautiful pink flower the last on her tree
Has returned to Nature and so too must we.
And now on the rose tree the tiny buds show
The green baby buds that to pink roses will grow
And in the green parkland the birds chirp and sing
And the magpies stick gathering at the coming of Spring.
Upon the leaf litter now faded and gray
The last rose of Autumn has gone to decay
And the mother who bore her has new baby flowers
And the fate of the rose it will also be ours.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Last Rose Of Summer
Throughout the soft and timeless days of august
til now the shadows begin to grow much longer
The sunsets fire has deepened blood red
I give you this, the last rose of summer
A token of my unyielding love
So when the winters mantle stills the earth
And all around seems dead and cold
This rose reminds you of a time when all was warm and living
Do not despair, mother nature simply rests
In sleep she has well earned
til one day not so very far from now
With the opening of the first rose buds I shall return
A token of my unyielding love
So that when winters mettle steals the earth
And all around seems dead and cold
This rose reminds you of a time when all was warm and living
The last rose of summer
The last rose of summer
In your long shadows
The last rose of summer
In the sunset
The last rose of summer
Take this rose that I give you
The last rose of summer
The last rose of summer
Dont worry about the winter
The last rose of summer
I shall return
The last rose of summer
The last rose of summer
(fade)
song performed by by Judas Priest
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Rose...
some days i gifted you a rose...
while i did not get, what it means...
and don`t know why...
but some thing inside my heart...
told me to do that, ,
and give it to you...
oh...
o my lovely rose, and my lovely passion...
o my dreamy rose, , ,
did not know some days, how lovely your meaning is...
while you are from my longing...
and from inside....
how mistaken i was in my expression..
when i not gifted you all a roses in the world..
you are my life's` rose..
as i gifted you the rose..
i gifted you to the rose...
and wish that rose gifted to me again..
my rose...
poem by Hazem Al Jaber
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Summer Rose
Winters instincts freeze the day,
My lovely summer rose shed it's petal's to keep the cold away,
Every petal resembles warmth and a new love into my heart,
Melting all of the ice inside to make a shallow bay,
Piercing me with her thorns like a dart,
Blinding me with its view,
My summer rose came into bloom,
The light shined like never before,
Bringing me into a world of never-ending doors,
A summer rose showed me the way,
Into the door that sealed my heart with yours forever to stay,
As the door closes keeping only you inside,
Your heart and mine began to collide,
One rose truly stood out most of all,
A summer rose only i can see,
Show everyone how much you mean to me,
Fill them with what you hold back and only keep for me within you,
Everybody watch closely and begin to see,
Here comes the summers majesty
She walks this way this kingdom bound,
Ill bow down beneath her for my heart she won,
A everlasting pedal will hit the ground,
For the dance of burning summers had just begun,
Love like this keeps the summer intertwined,
My bright rose the battle was mine,
The war you started on your own,
Let the summer reign for my vibrant rose,
As she molds her self into my heart like soft clay,
Melody's ring the summer still here,
An ancient hymn begins to bring me near,
My summer rose you've found me again,
Now together, forever will burn,
For each other until the very end,
poem by Daniel Filippov
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A Subtleness That Fits
Who am I to say...
A displayed rose,
Is not conceited!
With a slow blooming,
Showing to reveal...
Its appeal is very exquisite.
There is a subtleness that fits,
An elusive delicateness...
One either bends down to it,
Or select it to pick...
To sniff unresisting.
To say that a rose,
By another name chosen...
Would still be that rose?
That I do not know.
Although a rose conceited or not,
Leaves a fragrance...
Not easily forgotten.
By a nose left impressed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Bought You A Rose
the problem is
the grandfather clock
in the adjacent room
it chimes
on the hour
every hour
through the night
it keeps me awake
through the night
the night in which
i think of you
because
i hold the rose
in my hand
through the night
the rose that i bought you
in the afternoon
the rose that you did not want
in the evening
the evening when i took you out
and you said
you did not want the rose
you wanted it to be over between us
you said it was no use
a rose was no use
a rose could not
bring us together
a rose could not
keep us together
a rose by any other name
is still just a rose
you said
i should keep my rose
you said
you said it when i offered you the rose
you said it again
when the evening was over
when we left each other
and so i took it home
the rose that i bought you
i thought of you
on my way home
with the rose
i thought of how it had been
between us
i thought of how it might have been
between us
i tried to forget
how it had been
between us
i tried to forget
how it might have been
between us
but the rose reminded me
how it was
between us
i took the rose with me
when i got into bed
when i tried to sleep
it had been deep red
but it seemed to me
now it was not so deep red
as it had been before
each time i woke
i looked at the rose
each time it seemed
not so deep red
as it had been before
each time it seemed
a little more faded
a little more dry
a little less red
a little less fresh
each time
its scent also
had been beautiful
like you were beautiful
its scent also seemed to me
a little more faded
a little less fresh
a little less beautiful
a little less able
to evoke you
a little less able
to keep you
to keep your memory
alive
alive in the night
even when i turned on the light
to look again
at the rose
to inhale again
the perfume of the rose
i saw it fading
i saw you fading
i saw your beauty fading
through the night
and i saw that you were right
about the rose
that a rose is just a rose
that a rose could not
bring us together
that a rose could not
keep us together
that a rose by any other name
is still just a rose
that you by any other name
are still just a rose
fading through the night
i cannot keep you
for i cannot keep you
from fading through the night
like this rose i bought you
like any rose
like anything i ever bought you
the problem is
the grandfather clock
in the adjacent room
it chimes
on the hour
every hour
through the night
poem by Rory Hudson
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My Special Red Rose
My Special Red Rose
My special red rose so full of life just blossoming with
lovely red petals
Always looking so beautiful and radiant in the morning sun
And now yet again another red petal has falling from my
beautiful rose
but the petals that remain are very dear to me because they are still part of my lovely red rose.
Yet today my special red rose doesn't blossom quite as full but I still look at it every day in the morning light
For the lovely red petals that are still on my special
red rose
bring so much joy and happiness to my hearts delight
poem by Joseph Skelley
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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
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Promise
I GREW a rose within a garden fair,
And, tending it with more than loving care,
I thought how, with the glory of its bloom,
I should the darkness of my life illume;
And, watching, ever smiled to see the lusty bud
Drink freely in the summer sun to tinct its blood.
My rose began to open, and its hue
Was sweet to me as to it sun and dew;
I watched it taking on its ruddy flame
Until the day of perfect blooming came,
Then hasted I with smiles to find it blushing red —
Too late! Some thoughtless child had plucked my rose and fled!
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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It was the kind of summer day
It was the kind of summer day
when the sky’s hue
has a certain eternal blue,
where children during the afternoon play
when it feels as if all cares as swept away,
when love seems lovely and true
and lovers stick to each other like glue
and in my arms you did lay.
There was the rejoicing of the birds, the bees,
wild flowers blooming waxen in the veldt
under the hot summer sun,
children were climbing the popular trees,
it had something glorious that it did held
and it was a time of frolicking and fun.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Wild Mountain Thyme
1. oh, the summer time is coming,
And the trees are sweetly blooming,
And the wild mountain thyme
Grows around the blooming heather.
Chorus:
Will you go, lassie, go?
And well all go together
To pull wild mountain thyme
All around the blooming heather,
Will you go lassie, go?
2. I will build my love a bower
By yon clear and crystal fountain,
And on it I will pile
All the flowers of the mountain.
3. if my true love, she wont have me,
I will surely find another
To pull wild mountain thyme
All around the blooming heather.
4. oh, the summer time is coming
And the trees are sweetly blooming
And the wild mountain thyme
Grows around the blooming heather
song performed by by James Taylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Baby and the Rose
A rose tree grew by the garden wall,
And its highest blossom was just as tall
As my baby's curly head;
A lovely, fragrant, perfect rose,-
But sweeter from head to dimpled toes,
Was the baby I fondly led.
Now summer is over and winter gone,
And the winds of March are whistling on
Where the rose its petals shed;
No trace of rose perfumed and rare,
No baby face as seraph fair,
My baby sweet is dead.
The summer sun will shine again,
And 'neath the pattering, warm June rain,
Again the rose will bloom,
And so beyond these lowering skies
My baby dear, with smiling eyes,
Shall peer through earthly gloom,
And guide me with her angel hand
Through Heaven's gates,-and with me stand
Away from worldly woes,-
Where Heaven's flowers, divinely sweet,
Soften the path for weary feet
With perfume of the rose.
poem by Ida McCormick
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