Related quotes: Roses and rose-buds, red and...

To Muriel: at the Opera

Roses and rose-buds, red and white,
Nestled between your breasts to-night,
And, lying there with drowsy breath,
Sweetly resigned themselves to death.
Ah, cruel child! that would not so
Suffer the perfumed life to go,
But, hungering for the rose's heart
Of midmost sweetness, plucked apart
Petal from petal: 'Ah!' you said
(With lips that kissed white roses red)
'To live on love and roses!'

Well,
But if the rose were Muriel?

poem by Arthur Symons
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The White Rose

A lonely kid had no friends,
within his home his world ends.
He used to dream about colorful roses,
his love for roses was in heavy doses.
His nights filled with fears and tears,
days rolled like million years.
His mom took him to a rose garden one day,
she wanted to buy him a rose plant for his birthday.
The rose plants giggled about the boys face.
Their words wiped his happiness without a trace.
A dropp of his tear fell on a white rose's petal.
The petal turned red like a rare earth metal.
The plant pleaded him 'please don't cry'.
The words of the rose plant made him fly.
He took that plant to his garden.
From then his life was a gladden.
He took care of the white rose like a baby.
Loving that white rose was his full-time hobby.
His dreams and heart were filled with love.
His heart was pure like the whitest dove.
At an evening the rose looked dull and dry.
The kid was full of cry and wondering why,
he didn't stopped his painful weep,
that whole night he didn't sleep.
His tired eyes slept for a minute in a doze,
a voice in his dream told something about the rose,
the dawn broke with the rose blooming,
but the kid was gone missing.
He was never been found not even a hint.
His heart was beating under the roots of the rose plant.
Because in his dream he heard that,
the rose can live forever with a human heart.
So he left his heart and he depart.

poem by Vimal Kumar N
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In The Rose Garden

RED roses bright, pink roses and white
That bud and blossom and fall;
The very sight of my heart's delight
Is more than worth them all!
Is worth far more than the whole sweet store
That ever a garden grew--
She plucked the best to die at her breast,
But it laughed and it bloomed anew!

The red rose lay at her lips to-day,
And flushed with the joy thereof;
She said a word that the white rose heard,
And the white rose paled with love.
But the west wind blows, and my lady goes,
And she leaves the world forlorn;
And every rose that the garden grows,
Might just as well be a thorn!

poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Rose...

gift you a rose, ,
gift you my rose....
but my rose to you, is not like any rose in this world...
a rose drunk from my tears...
a rose that i take care about it by my soul...
a rose gave it a water by my blood...
and perfumed it by my love....

my rose to you, is not like an roses...
its color not like any colors...
its not a red...
and its not a white...
even not a yellow...
its color pick up from the suns` yellow color..
and mix from the seas` blue color...
and from my bloods` drops..
and from my tears...
so.. its color was mixed with my sadness and my love...

my rose to you, is not like any roses...
its perfume is not like any perfume..
its a mix between a loves` nectar...
and many of kindness, and honesty love...

my rose to you, is not like any roses...
raised inside my heart...
and takes a warm light, from my eyes` light...
and its food, from the hope, that we always wish...
and from our future, which will gather us to each others one day...
so please accept and take my rose...

poem by Hazem Al Jaber
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Red, Red Rose

Red, red rose, she blew her breath
Fingers, it’s stem she caressed
Then she closed her eyes and breathed the fragrance in
Tell me red, red rose, where does love end

She placed the rose, gently against her lips
She plucked a single petal, with finger tips
And as the wind caught and carried up high
Tell me red, red rose, can love it fly

Slowly one by one, each petal fell
Upon the last in her eye, a tear it swelled
And then she sighed as she asked to her self
Tell me red, red rose, is for love, is this what’s left

Red, red rose, red, red rose
You stand for love you should know
Should we hold on tight with all our might
Must one day we let go

Red, red rose, red, red rose
Your petals fly in the breeze
If I let go, red, red rose
What becomes of me.

poem by Bill Simmons
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Transparent Rose

Transparent Rose
In my heart lies a Vase
With 5 roses
5 roses all for you
With five different colors
All to show you what you mean to me
The First Rose
The yellow Rose
The yellow rose is the rose for you from me
To let you know you’re my friend, my best friend
That is a way to show you I’ll be always there for you
The Second Rose
The Blue Rose
The blue rose is to show you
With all my heart what you mean to me
With this rose I show you
There is no battle that I won’t fight for you there is no ocean big enough that can separate my love from you
There is no mountain high enough that I can’t climb for you
With this rose is the beginning of my love to you
The Third Rose
The Red Rose
Within this rose lies all the love I have for you
All the caring
All the loving
I will give to you
This rose show you how you should be treated
I will always romance your heart just to see you smile
Like an Angel
The Fourth Rose
The White Rose
With this rose I show you
All the passion that lies in my heart
All the tenderness I have towards you
All the love that I will show you each time I have and can
With all my strength and love
My heart cries for you
The Fifth Rose
A Rose that has no color
A rose that is undying
A rose that you can see trough and that there is nothing to hide
A rose so pure and true
That all that lies in it is you
So perfectly, so preciously
A girl that is so pure of heart like an angel
This Rose is a Transparent Rose
With this rose I show you all that I am
With this rose I show you I have nothing to hide
Here you can see your reflection that lies in my heart
A love so deeply living in me
I love you with all my heart
And there is no way that these roses will die
Your love is the water to keep them alive

poem by Carlos Wever
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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5 Roses

poem by Ricky Baker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Song Of Roses

'Tis time to sing of roses: of roses all ablow,
To every vagrant passing breeze they dip a courtesy low,
'Tis time to sing of roses! for June is here, you know.

One song for true love's roses of sweetest deepest red,
Some heart will wear you faithfully when life itself hath fled,
And for the white rose sing a song--the white rose for the dead.

And ah! the yellow roses, of brightest, lightest gold,
King Midas must have touched their leaves in mystic days of old,
Or they were made of sunshine, and gilded, fold by fold.

And the roadside rose, sweet-briar, we would remember thee
And the cinnamon rose that evermore enthralls each passing bee,
You old, old-fashioned roses, a-growing wild and free.

'Tis time to sing of roses! of roses all ablow!
They come again, as sweet, my dear, as those of long ago.
'Tis time to sing of roses! for June is here you know.

poem by Virna Sheard
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Love Song

I gave her a rose in early June,
Fed with the sun and the dew,
Each petal I said is a note in the tune,
The rose is the whole tune through and through,
The tune is the whole red-hearted rose,
Flush and form, honey and hue,
Lull with the cadence and throb to the close,
I love you, I love you, I love you.

She gave me a rose in early June,
Fed with the sun and the dew,
Each petal she said is a mount in the moon,
The rose is the whole moon through and through,
The moon is the whole pale-hearted rose,
Round and radiance, burnish and blue,
Break in the flood-tide that murmurs and flows,
I love you, I love you, I love you.

This is our love in early June,
Fed with the sun and the dew,
Moonlight and roses hid in a tune,
The roses are music through and through,
The moonlight falls in the breath of the rose,
Light and cadence, honey and hue,
Mingle, and murmur, and flow to the close,
I love you, I love you, I love you.

poem by Duncan Campbell Scott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Winter Sunset

Roses in the sky,
Roses in the sea
Bowers of scarlet sky-roses
Take my heart and me.

God was good to make,
This December weather,
All this sky a rose-garden,
Rose and fire together.

To the East are burning
Roses in a garden,
Roses in a rosy field,
Hesper for their warden.

Yonder to the West
Roses all afire,
Mirror now some rare splendid
Rose of their desire.

Pulsing deeper, deeper,
Waves of fire throb on,
Never were such red roses
At sunset or dawn.

Roses on the hills,
Roses in the hollow,
Roses on the wet hedges,
In the shining fallow.

West wind, blow and blow!
That has blown ajar
Gates of God's great rose-garden,
Where His Angels are,

Gathering up the rose-leaves
For a shower of roses
On the night the Lord Babe
His sweet eye uncloses.

All the sky is scarlet
Flaming on the azure.
O, there's fire in Heaven
My heart aches with pleasure.

Leagues of rose and scarlet,
Roses red as blood:
All the world's a rose-garden.
God is good, is good.

poem by Katharine Tynan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sweet Perfume

A rose arose with rosy hue,
And made my torn heart, so sparkling new,
A rose arose as roses do,
And warmth for its guise within me grew.

A rose arose with beauty bright,
And gladdened my heart with such delight,
A rose arose as roses might,
And set out great charm before my sight.

A rose arose with summertime,
And imbued my heart with songs sublime,
A rose arose as roses climb,
And showed itself in all its prime.

A rose arose inside the room,
And lifted my heart so full of gloom,
A rose arose as roses bloom,
And fused the air with its sweet perfume.

poem by Ernestine Northover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Yellow Roses

Hello you said the day we met
Handing me a yellow rose
You asked me out
And to your surprise
And to mine I said Id go
I thought it so romantic
And I found you sweet and bold
Though wed only met
I still said yes
To a single yellow rose
And for years to come
You were the one
To sleep with me at night
To laugh and talk
And share my thoughts
And hold me when Id cry
And on every occasion
And for no good reason to
A big bouquet or a single yellow rose
Was sent from you
Chorus:
Yellow roses
The color of sunshine
You loved me at one time
Why did you have to go
Yellow roses
Are you sending your new love
My bright yellow rose buds
I still love you so
I never see a yellow rose
That I didnt think of you
Its still my favorite flower
Though the yellows turned to blue
The day you left my teardrops fell
Upon your farewell not
You said goodbye like you said hello
With a single yellow rose
Chorus:
Yellow roses
The color of sunshine
You loved me at one time
Why did you have to go
Yellow roses
Are you sending your new love
My bright yellow rose buds
Oh I still love you so
Yellow roses
The color of sunshine
You loved me at one time
Why did you have to go
Sweet yellow roses
Are you sending your new love
My bright yellow rose buds
I still love you so

song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ten Roses

For every tear you cry,
I cry a hundred thousand more,

I'll give you ten roses,
For everything you're fighting for.

The first will be a red rose,
For courage and for health,

The second a bright yellow rose,
For gaining all life's wealth,

The third will be a soft pink rose,
So you may be happy in love,

The fourth will be a white rose,
Brought by a turtledove,

The fifth will be an orange rose,
To give you back your fire,

The sixth will be a deep pink rose,
So you may have what you desire,

The seventh will be a coral rose,
To gain you many friends,

The eighth will be a purple rose,
To guide you through life's bends,

The ninth will be a pale yellow rose,
To give you hope to try,

The tenth will be a black rose,
So you can mourn me when I die.

I have to leave my dearest friend,
But may the roses last you til my end,

I'm sorry I could not say goodbye,
Though ten roses I leave by your side.

I leave you with a kiss,
Along with these rose flowers,

I know I will be missed,
But I pray the roses will give you power,

Power to go on my love,
Power to be strong,

Power to get over me,
And let your life carry on

poem by Ruth warren
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Red Rose Of Love

Red rose for my lover,
Red love from her heart;
Red rose from my lover,
Red love from my heart;
Red rose,
Red heart,
Red love,
Red flower,
To praise the muse of her heart with roses;
Love is all around you.
A rose for me,
A rose that says more than two weeks in water;
Just like the dream that brings tow together,
My heart waits for you always.
Red rose of hearts,
red rose of love,
Like the true life in paradise;
I am living with the rose and,
I have a life to share with her.
Life is like a rose from a tree,
Visiting Canada in style;
Where i have more ice to see.
Roses of red to swim my muse with,
Together with my wife to take a trip;
This red rose is more than two weeks in water!
It is still going strong,
The roses of love on this journey;
Red rose of love,
Red hearts at peace,
Red rose of a muse that muses;
I am living in paradise on my lover's rose.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Roses

People say Roses are Red,
Then, Red Roses for my passionate love to you
People say Roses are Pink,
Then, Pink Roses to show that I admire you
People say Roses are Yellow,
Then, Yellow Roses to brighten your day
People say Roses are Lavender,
Then, Lavender Roses to say that I love you at my first sight
People say Roses are Orange,
Then, Orange Roses to say that I want to build a relationship with you
And,
People say Roses are White,
Then, The White Rose for the purity and confession of my heart
To confess in my heart that I am truly falling in love with you.

poem by Ryn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A White Rose

THE red rose whispers of passion,
And the white rose breathes of love;
O, the red rose is a falcon,
And the white rose is a dove.

But I send you a cream-white rosebud
With a flush on its petal tips;
For the love that is purest and sweetest
Has a kiss of desire on the lips

poem by John Boyle O'Reilly
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Roses In Madrid

Roses, Senors, roses!
Love is subtly hid
In the fragrant roses,
Blown in gay Madrid.
Roses, Senors, roses!
Look, look, look, and see
Love hanging in the roses,
Like a golden bee!
Ha! ha! shake the roses--
Hold a palm below;
Shake him from the roses,
Catch the vagrant so!

High I toss the roses
From my brown palm up;
Like the wine that bubbles
From a golden cup.
Catch the roses, Senors,
Light on finger tips;
He who buys red roses,
Dreams of crimson lips!
Tinkle! my fresh roses,
With the rare dews wet;
Clink! my crisp, red roses,
Like a castanet!

Roses, Senors, roses,
Come, Hidalgo, buy!
Proudly wait my roses
For thy rose's eye
Be thy rose as stately
As a pacing deer;
Worthy are my roses
To burn behind her ear.
Ha I ha! I can see thee,
Where the fountains foam,
Twining my red roses
In her golden comb!

Roses, Donnas, roses,
None so fresh as mine,
Pluck'd at rose of morning
By our Lady's shrine.
Those that first I gather'd
Laid I at her feet,
That is why my roses
Still are fresh and sweet.
Roses, Donnas, roses!
Roses waxen fair!
Acolytes my roses,
Censing ladies' pray'r!

Roses, roses, roses!
Hear the tawny bull
Thund'ring in the circus--
Buy your arms full.
Roses by the dozen!
Roses by the score!
Pelt the victor with them--
Bull or Toreador!

poem by Isabella Valancy Crawford
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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And Then I Remember The White Roses

suddenly what flashed to my mind
on a gray afternoon, so vivid are the white roses

a bouquet of white roses
assuring me once again, after 13 years

that your love is pure, despite
that you have remained to be true
no matter what, despite the odds

and then i have seen how each petal of the white roses
fell one by one under our feet, we feel the loss again.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Yellow Rose

She came in my dreams last night,
She left a yellow rose and a love note on pillow next to me,
As always the inscription read,
'we are friends for ever and in the eternity'.

Since a rose is a rose,
why the red rose shines in the glory of love?
why the white roses remind us of our departed souls?
and why the yellow rose shines the rays of friendship in all of us?

Like sunshine bursting through grey clouds,
The aura of friendship emanates from its golden petals,
The frozen dew drops on its soft satin petals,
glorifies tears on my cheeks in the times of sadness,
Its mere presence and the fragrance,
fills my heart with the scent of warmth and affection.

Yellow rose you are perfection in creation,
I wonder why you have to wither away in time,
With every falling petal, a heart is broken,
with every withered yellow rose, a token of eternal friendship is lost.

poem by Jay P Narain
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Margaret's Bridal Eve

The old grey mother she thrummed on her knee:
There is a rose that's ready;
And which of the handsome young men shall it be?
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.

My daughter, come hither, come hither to me:
There is a rose that's ready;
Come, point me your finger on him that you see:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.

O mother, my mother, it never can be:
There is a rose that's ready;
For I shall bring shame on the man marries me:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.

Now let your tongue be deep as the sea:
There is a rose that's ready;
And the man'll jump for you, right briskly will he:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.

Tall Margaret wept bitterly:
There is a rose that's ready;
And as her parent bade did she:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.

O the handsome young man dropped down on his knee:
There is a rose that's ready;
Pale Margaret gave him her hand, woe's me!
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.

O mother, my mother, this thing I must say:
There is a rose in the garden;
Ere he lies on the breast where that other lay:
And the bird sings over the roses.

Now, folly, my daughter, for men are men:
There is a rose in the garden;
You marry them blindfold, I tell you again:
And the bird sings over the roses.

O mother, but when he kisses me!
There is a rose in the garden;
My child, 'tis which shall sweetest be!
And the bird sings over the roses.

O mother, but when I awake in the morn!
There is a rose in the garden;
My child, you are his, and the ring is worn:
And the bird sings over the roses.

Tall Margaret sighed and loosened a tress:
There is a rose in the garden;
Poor comfort she had of her comeliness
And the bird sings over the roses.

My mother will sink if this thing be said:
There is a rose in the garden;
That my first betrothed came thrice to my bed;
And the bird sings over the roses.

He died on my shoulder the third cold night:
There is a rose in the garden;
I dragged his body all through the moonlight:
And the bird sings over the roses.

But when I came by my father's door:
There is a rose in the garden;
I fell in a lump on the stiff dead floor:
And the bird sings over the roses.

O neither to heaven, nor yet to hell:
There is a rose in the garden;
Could I follow the lover I loved so well!
And the bird sings over the roses.

III

The bridesmaids slept in their chambers apart:
There is a rose that's ready;
Tall Margaret walked with her thumping heart:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.

The frill of her nightgown below the left breast:
There is a rose that's ready;
Had fall'n like a cloud of the moonlighted West:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.

But where the West-cloud breaks to a star:
There is a rose that's ready;
Pale Margaret's breast showed a winding scar:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.

O few are the brides with such a sign!
There is a rose that's ready;
Though I went mad the fault was mine:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.

I must speak to him under this roof to-night:
There is a rose that's ready;
I shall burn to death if I speak in the light:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.

O my breast! I must strike you a bloodier wound:
There is a rose that's ready;
Than when I scored you red and swooned:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.

I will stab my honour under his eye:
There is a rose that's ready;
Though I bleed to the death, I shall let out the lie:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.

O happy my bridesmaids! white sleep is with you!
There is a rose that's ready;
Had he chosen among you he might sleep too!
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.

O happy my bridesmaids! your breasts are clean:
There is a rose that's ready;
You carry no mark of what has been!
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.

An hour before the chilly beam:
Red rose and white in the garden;
The bridegroom started out of a dream:
And the bird sings over the roses.

He went to the door, and there espied:
Red rose and white in the garden;
The figure of his silent bride:
And the bird sings over the roses.

He went to the door, and let her in:
Red rose and white in the garden;
Whiter looked she than a child of sin:
And the bird sings over the roses.

She looked so white, she looked so sweet:
Red rose and white in the garden;
She looked so pure he fell at her feet:
And the bird sings over the roses.

He fell at her feet with love and awe:
Red rose and white in the garden;
A stainless body of light he saw:
And the bird sings over the roses.

O Margaret, say you are not of the dead!
Red rose and white in the garden;
My bride! by the angels at night are you led?
And the bird sings over the roses.

I am not led by the angels about:
Red rose and white in the garden;
But I have a devil within to let out:
And the bird sings over the roses.

O Margaret! my bride and saint!
Red rose and white in the garden;
There is on you no earthly taint:
And the bird sings over the roses.

I am no saint, and no bride can I be:
Red rose and while in the garden;
Until I have opened my bosom to thee:
And the bird sings over the roses.

To catch at her heart she laid one hand:
Red rose and white in the garden;
She told the tale where she did stand:
And the bird sings over the roses.

She stood before him pale and tall:
Red rose and white in the garden;
Her eyes between his, she told him all:
And the bird sings over the roses.

She saw how her body grow freckled and foul:
Red rose and white in the garden;
She heard from the woods the hooting owl:
And the bird sings over the roses.

With never a quiver her mouth did speak:
Red rose and white in the garden;
O when she had done she stood so meek!
And the bird sings over the roses.

The bridegroom stamped and called her vile:
Red rose and white in the garden;
He did but waken a little smile:
And the bird sings over the roses.

The bridegroom raged and called her foul:
Red rose and white in the garden;
She heard from the woods the hooting owl:
And the bird sings over the roses.

He muttered a name full bitter and sore:
Red rose and white in the garden;
She fell in a lump on the still dead floor:
And the bird sings over the roses.

O great was the wonder, and loud the wail:
Red rose and white in the garden;
When through the household flew the tale:
And the bird sings over the roses.

The old grey mother she dressed the bier:
Red rose and white in the garden;
With a shivering chin and never a tear:
And the bird sings over the roses.

O had you but done as I bade you, my child!
Red rose and white in the garden;
You would not have died and been reviled:
And the bird sings over the roses.

The bridegroom he hung at midnight by the bier:
Red rose and white in the garden;
He eyed the white girl thro' a dazzling tear:
And the bird sings over the roses.

O had you been false as the women who stray:
Red rose and white in the garden;
You would not be now with the Angels of Day!
And the bird sings over the roses.

poem by George Meredith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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