As you walk down the fairway of life you must smell the roses, for you only get to play one round.
Related quotes
The Poet Laureat
did you get his
message today
from across the
sea?
that life
is short
you need to
take a stop
along the way
and smell
the roses
in here
to be candid
the men
and women
and children
know that
too welll
and look
at them
the men
drink tuba
the women
spread
the rumors
and giggle
and laugh
and the children
still play
even in the
dark
as i dabble
in poetry
there are no
roses anymore
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Philippine Junket
Just as the clock starts to tick
There sprung the tongues of fire
When these honorable men play their mutual smack
One will see their infinite capacity to lie
Through their gums like soothing mark
For nobody cares
Everyone loves to smell the roses
And we end up smelling the gutter instead!
Their speeches are so hilarious
Quite apart from poignant
They seem to feel their colleague’s loss as their loss
To us an expostulation of wonderment
Weeping and gnashing their teeth to protect their boss
For nobody cares
Everyone loves to smell the roses
And we end up smelling the gutter instead!
Forget the just and the wicked
For that is like squeezing blood from stones
They all wrought turbulence hard and morbid
When they speak, they sound like storms
Relatively an equanimity they stood as united
For nobody cares
Everyone loves to smell the roses
And we end up smelling the gutter instead!
poem by Edgar Rendon Eslit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Til The Roses Bloom
‘Til the roses bloom, and you return
Once more to me in peace.
I'll light a candle in my heart,
Whose glow will never cease.
For then once more, we'll love and laugh,
And walk through life together.
So ‘Til the yellow roses bloom,
Through all of life's rough weather,
I'll walk alone with smile on lips,
And thoughts of others spurn.
Until the roses lift their heads
And you to me return.
poem by Rosi Caswell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Rush
I believe we rush through life so fast
We miss alot of good stuff
So don't just stop and smell the roses
Smell all the flowers
Life can be so amazing.
poem by David Kush
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Holy Rosary (Roses to Mother Mary)
Roses that can never fade;
Roses white and red in shade;
Roses that are heaven-made;
Roses in Mary’s crown laid!
Roses from the hearts that pray;
Roses blossoming night, day;
Roses living all the way;
Roses fit for any Fay!
Roses that will always stay;
Roses brighter than sun’s ray;
Roses everlasting, Aye!
Roses that she can’t say, ’nay’!
The spiritual best weapon,
That brings favors from her son,
That serves to solve problems mundane,
And makes souls fit for life divine!
‘PRAYERS THAT YOU CAN SAY ALL LIFE
TO KEEP AWAY FROM EVERY STRIFE! ’
dedicated to the 'Holy Family Church Grotto' Perundurai
Copyright by Dr John Celes 2-12-10
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
One Flower Grows, One Dies
that rose that grows is surrounded by the suns light, glowing
that rose grows, while my rose dies
my beautiful rose
with the smell of a million roses together
not the store bought roses that just smell like plastic and chemicals
no, the natural smell that i wish i could keep forever
she was my rose, she was the rose that died
and she is the one growing for another one
my flower dies, and the other one grew
not for me, but for you.
poem by Sarah Rabago
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Moonlight And Roses
Moonlight and roses
bring back wonderful memories
of how our love used to be
before life’s temptations
began to tear us apart.
The walks in the park
under the moonlight
as the roses scented the air.
Now the moonlight and roses
bring back those memories
though you are no longer here.
Each love leaves memories,
moonlight and roses
I associate with all my memories of you.
So as the sun sets in the west
and the moon rises in the east,
the air is pollinated
with the scent of the rose’s perfume
as I walk the paths
I used to walk with you.
7 - 8 August 2008
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
London Roses
'ROWSES, Rowses! Penny a bunch!' they tell you--
Slattern girls in Trafalgar, eager to sell you.
Roses, roses, red in the Kensington sun,
Holland Road, High Street, Bayswater, see you and smell you--
Roses of London town, red till the summer is done.
Roses, roses, locust and lilac, perfuming
West End, East End, wondrously budding and blooming
Out of the black earth, rubbed in a million hands,
Foot-trod, sweat-sour over and under, entombing
Highways of darkness, deep gutted with iron bands.
'Rowses, rowses! Penny a bunch!' they tell you,
Ruddy blooms of corruption, see you and smell you,
Born of stale earth, fallowed with squalor and tears--
North shire, south shire, none are like these, I tell you,
Roses of London perfumed with a thousand years.
poem by Willa Sibert Cather
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
In The Morning-dedicated to Afzal Shauq
Rest in
peace
Shauq Man.
In the
morning
when you
awake.
I will
be
waiting
for you.
Hand in
hand
we will
walk
through
the garden
of life.
Smell the
lovely
flowers
touch the
roses.
Our night
dreams
will
become
reality,
in the
morning.
poem by Heather Burns
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
So Not Perfect
Just heard a song on the radio
a girl singing about a boy
who is not less than perfect.
Sweet.
Got me think'n bout
how I am
so not perfect.
Course none of us like
to have that truth pointed out.
Better to be wooed
with romantic gestures
and a sweet and caring smile.
Chocolate is good, too.
Some people are crazy early.
Not me.
Yeah, I know- gotta work on that.
For awhile now
it has been on my heart
to always take the time
to smell the roses.
Do you want to know a secret?
When I am alone
and I pass by flowers
on the street
or in the grocery store,
then I stop and smell the roses.
I made a decision that I never want to be
too busy to take time for that.
It is a beautiful joy of life
and one that I try to appreciate.
Too many people zip by life
and miss those little moments
that are the sweetest.
A little over a week ago
I was getting groceries one night.
I detoured to smell the many bouquets of flowers,
and honestly I was dodging that annoying guy
(the one always trying to sell me cable or something
every time I set foot in Wal-Mart) .
A young guy
about 18 or so
struck up a conversation with me
by the roses.
He spilled out his heart
about his break-up with his girl,
his dear love.
He selected the red roses
hoping to win her back.
Hoping she would forgive him.
Hoping he hadn't lost her for good.
The beautiful card
that he selected for her
and his story touched my heart.
Relationships,
like people,
are not perfect
and we all make mistakes.
When we are able to admit it
is when
we get the gold star.
poem by Julie A Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
That Smell
Whiskey bottles, and brand new cars
Oak tree you're in my way
There's too much coke and too much smoke
Look what's going on inside you
Ooooh that smell
Can't you smell that smell
Ooooh that smell
The smell of death surrounds you
Angel of darkness is upon you
Stuck a needle in your arm
So take another toke, have a blow for your nose
One more drink fool, will drown you
Ooooh that smell
Can't you smell that smell
Ooooh that smell
The smell of death surrounds you
Now they call you Prince Charming
Can't speak a word when you're full of 'ludes
Say you'll be all right come tomorrow
But tomorrow might not be here for you
Ooooh that smell
Can't you smell that smell
Ooooh that smell
The smell of death surrounds you
Hey, you're a fool you
Stick them needles in your arm
I know I been there before
One little problem that confronts you
Got a monkey on your back
Just one more fix, Lord might do the trick
One hell of a price for you to get your kicks
Ooooh that smell
Can't you smell that smell
Ooooh that smell
The smell of death surrounds you
Ooooh that smell
Can't you smell that smell
Ooooh that smell
The smell of death surrounds you
song performed by by 3 Doors Down
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Like All Things With Time Roses Whither Away
Like all things with time roses whither away,
as does the frail beauty of lingering youth
which comes to sweet perfection on a day,
the waning of life is an ultimate truth,
as life and living is not what it seem
and daily we do live and play wantonly
while like roses, life is fair as we do deem,
but destiny strikes uncommonly
while all of life, living is just a show
in which some joy and some errors are made,
while with love at times we do like roses glow,
with time everything does eventually fade,
while at a time the canker of death lies,
even in the most beautiful of eyes.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Rose
Roses come into our lives then fade a die,
Some yellow others red as a summer's sky.
There are other roses that enter ones life,
Grand Children, husbands or a wife.
Family form for us a bed of roses,
Long past the last breath and a life closes.
You are for us and always will be,
A sweet smelling beautiful rose to Granny and me.
Dear one live not by the sword,
Live not by a weapon but honour your Lord.
Be for your Lord the glint in His eye,
And the perfume we take in as we walk by.
Garden of Heaven
Gentle fog hovers over like a blanket
It hangs over the trees and kisses the grass
Roses are spotted with dew
This day is new
The sun crawls through the fog
Rays give a healthy glow to the garden
The musky smell of rains from yesterday reach my nose
As I drift through the garden on the cobblestone path
I walk lightly not wanting to disturb the peace
Of the crimson roses and gold freckled leaves
This is a time when all is serene
A time when things are looked at differently
A shabby worn house looks like a regal mansion
A wrinkled old maid looks like a glowing slender queen
So I walk through this garden of heaven and earth
And all I feel is happy and content
poem by Avalin Locke
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Come and Love
Come along, young boy of the woods,
Come in the end to faint on wounds of blood,
To be as fine as a death of a loose knot being untied,
As you are negative and positive on the attitude you take in life.
Go to the bed of roses and smell awe and repugnance,
Love and hatred, and then live with these.
Love him and his wife just as roses and foxgloves.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Song of Quoodle
They haven't got no noses,
The fallen sons of Eve;
Even the smell of roses
Is not what they supposes;
But more than mind discloses
And more than men believe.
They haven't got no noses,
They cannot even tell
When door and darkness closes
The park a Jew encloses,
Where even the law of Moses
Will let you steal a smell.
The brilliant smell of water,
The brave smell of a stone,
The smell of dew and thunder,
The old bones buried under,
Are things in which they blunder
And err, if left alone.
The wind from winter forests,
The scent of scentless flowers,
The breath of brides' adorning,
The smell of snare and warning,
The smell of Sunday morning,
God gave to us for ours
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
And Quoodle here discloses
All things that Quoodle can,
They haven't got no noses,
They haven't got no noses,
And goodness only knowses
The Noselessness of Man.
poem by G.K. Chesterton
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy!
Slow down, smell the Roses
Whoa! Friends, slow down a bit, smell the roses
And appreciate your situations.
We can’t lose sight what’s under our noses
If we do, we invite our frustrations.
Who needs that god-awful discouragement?
Not you or me, so look for the flowers,
They are there. Look around; follow the scent.
But don’t look in other people’s bowers
You have plenty more in your own backyard.
Now take a whiff and thank your lucky stars
For these gifts, you have earned this high regard.
That’s right my friends, give yourselves a cigar.
Over the years we sowed what we reaped
Its harvest time now, the roses smell sweet.
poem by Albert Ahearn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Song of Quoodle
They haven't got no noses,
The fallen sons of Eve;
Even the smell of roses
Is not what they supposes;
But more than mind discloses
And more than men believe.
They haven't got no noses,
They cannot even tell
When door and darkness closes
The park a Jew encloses,
Where even the law of Moses
Will let you steal a smell.
The brilliant smell of water,
The brave smell of a stone,
The smell of dew and thunder,
The old bones buried under,
Are things in which they blunder
And err, if left alone.
The wind from winter forests,
The scent of scentless flowers,
The breath of brides' adorning,
The smell of snare and warning,
The smell of Sunday morning,
God gave to us for ours
*
And Quoodle here discloses
All things that Quoodle can,
They haven't got no noses,
They haven't got no noses,
And goodness only knowses
The Noselessness of Man.
poem by Gilbert Keith Chesterton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Epitaph
Heap not on this mound
Roses that she loved so well:
Why bewilder her with roses,
That she cannot see or smell?
She is happy where she lies
With the dust upon her eyes.
poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
My Sweet Red Roses
O my Sweet Red Roses,
For ages I've been searching looking
For my sweet red roses,
Hopping round like a Kangaroo
Hoping to fall in love
With my sweet red roses.
As I firmly
Hold My Sweet Red Roses
Nearest Dearest to my heart
Like Christ born on Christmas Day
Lying in a manger
With eyes wide shut,
Her face incomparable to entire nature.
And as I closely
Hold my sweet red roses,
To myself,
Her wanderlust of holiness
Fills me up
Ushers me to her depth,
And I bear my soul to
My sweet red roses.
By day,
Her smile gives sunshine
Speaking gives life.
And by night,
Living grabs my love
And her very thoughts
Gives me hope.
O My Sweet Red Roses
Even when unconscious
Cannot breath
Cannot feel
Cannot talk
Cannot move nor touch,
It is you I shall continue remain loving,
Because your loving is in the Heaven's
Faithfulness up to the clouds
Beautifulness to the white snow.
O My Sweet Red Roses,
A thousand times I shall care
A million dimes I shall cherish
A billion rhymes I shall honor
A trillion dines I shall spring,
And a zillion miles I shall love
My sweet red roses.
O yes, yes,
My sweet red roses,
Mm yes, yes...
My sweet red roses.
poem by Francis Julian Zewu
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!