Beside You
In the wilderness
walking alone
on your trail
imbibing the fragrance
of wayside spring flowers
gathering the bygones with care
the bouganvillas droop on the gate
with red roses clenched
tears gush and fall on the petals in my hand
Nothing is over yet
you are as alive as yesterday
your scent mingles in the nearby woods
and lingers around me
I lay the soaked roses on your grave
My body quivers as I kneel
and hold on to the dainty grass blades
the sun dazzles my moist eyes
here I dropp my false sword of courage
and weep like a child unhibited
clinging to the stone cross over you.
poem by Dr Madhavi Grace
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
a Sheaf of red roses
Today I saw
a sheaf of red roses,
which a florist displayed.
The petals was still closed
and was fresh,
as if just cut from the trunk.
The roses were spread wildly
and something of their fragrance,
drifted outside in the air.
The flowers caught
various people’s eyes and some bees,
were flying around at the door.
I just had to get those flowers,
but remembered
that my darling loves sweet peas more.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Honey Bees
Sweet when the flowers are blooming
Beautifully and fast they fly
The beauty comes to share
The dance of petals
The songs of beautiful bells
The scent of romantic roses
All the honey bees fly to dance
Singing the beautiful rhymes
Sparkling like the golden light
The sky smiles to see
But when the cloud comes
No more dance of petals
The bells stop to sing
The scent of roses disappeared
They fly to go with stings
No more cheerful dance
Poisons come to spread
Leaving the Fall to end
poem by Vidi Pudinkz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Silver Roses In Bloom
petals dance in the wind,
silver roses swaying,
the words write themselfs out,
i love you baby,
come back home,
i cant see home,
i have no sence of direction,
i follow the trail of silver roses,
they lead me to a path threading through the woods,
at the end i find a cottage,
at that moment i see a man,
he is standing with his outstreached hand,
reaching for me,
i run into his arms,
he hands me a silver rose,
right that second i wake from the dream,
silver roses.
poem by Alicia Roseberry
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To You My Beloved
The gate is ajar
The gate of my heart, fondly and lovely expectant
The gate is ajar
Roses are beautiful
Roses with petals and engraved with love
Roses are beautiful
My mother's milk
A taste so fresh from breasts like yours erect
My mother's milk
Honey is sweet
Done by bees with flowers' nectars
Honey is sweet
To you my beloved
My heart's love petals, sweet is a cool sunny day
To you my beloved.
poem by Charles Jagongo Ogola
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
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Faded Red Roses
She stood at the alter
A gown of white she did wear
With a bouquet of red roses
And blue ribbons in her hair
She waited for someone
Who was never to come
Tears leaked from her eyes
Across her cheeks did run
The bouquet of red roses
For her wedding day
Have all now faded
As time slipped away
Those faded red roses
She still holds in her hand
Years have come and gone
Waiting for this man
You’ll still find her
With tears in her eyes
As the hopes he’ll still come
Fade like the roses
Washed too much by the sun
Today she still waits all alone
Those faded red roses in her hand
Is now all that she owns
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Muck
When a man raced slowly through the muck
Capturing the needs of a false scent
In this wild African jungle,
He sped through roses of England
And wore a brocade of flowers
To commemorate the rainy rainbow.
His face smelt of love and hate together,
It knew him.
The roses felt good to touch as
The leather of his armour meant liberty.
A freedom was valued more,
And that was the liberty of forever,
In the rest of the world we might say
No to the false flowers of mightiness.
I see a man faultless as the sun,
His niece engages in enraging actions
Because the sun shines hot not cold.
Why does man suck muck tonight?
When do false flowers goad the airs?
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Only Roses
To a garden full of posies
Cometh one to gather flowers;
And he wanders through its bowers
Toying with the wanton roses,
Who, uprising from their beds,
Hold on high their shameless heads
With their pretty lips a-pouting,
Never doubting - never doubting
That for Cytherean posies
He would gather aught but roses.
In a nest of weeds and nettles,
Lay a violet, half hidden;
Hoping that his glance unbidden
Yet might fall upon her petals.
Though she lived alone, apart,
Hope lay nestling at her heart,
But, alas! the cruel awaking
Set her little heart a-breaking,
For he gathered for his posies
Only roses - only roses!
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Want To Sleep On A Bed Of Roses
I want to sleep on a bed of roses,
I want their fragrance to invade our senses,
In the velvet dark night i want you there by my side,
You and me on a bed of roses.
Was just the sunset and it's coming the night,
When love exists, even the silence is full with light,
I want to share my dreams only with you,
You and me on a bed of roses.
And when the sun rise up and light came in,
I want to wake up gently and to feel like a queen,
Surrounded by petals, with a velvet touch,
You and me on a bed of roses.
poem by Cristina Teodor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dreary Night
What happened on that day before the sun set?
Has anyone ever seen a star in the sky on a dreary night?
Has anyone ever ridden upon the tail of a shooting star?
Too hard for me to believe, as I cannot fathom reality-
I would go in my father’s garden trying to find myself- though
All I can see are the roses-
My eyes see clearly and I look all about but all I see are roses.
Yesterday I was walking home terrified of people walking behind me.
I saw a daffodil in full bloom, in all of its glory.
But I wept, though unobtrusively- tears of destitute fear.
It cannot be spring on the fourth day of February,
Although I may long for it to be-
I cannot sing songs of love and hopefulness, as
I have never been in love, or never wished to be.
I ask myself- have you ever seen a star on a dreary night?
Did you ever ride bareback upon the tail of a shooting star?
My sanity is buried beneath tons of stones upon
Which I have fallen, while running, trying to escape the pathway of my delusions-
I am strong inside, I have been told, and I rarely scream aloud.
When I close my eyes all I can see are roses-
As those growing in my father’s garden-
It has been years since he has passed away.
I hear voices early in the morning threatening me.
They cannot be silenced. It is still dark outside.
But when I close my eyes I can still see the roses- yellow, red and white-
I ask myself- what happened on that night I recall, twenty years ago?
My father died and his garden remains-
My mother died soon afterward, leaving nothing but memories behind.
I remember the daffodil I saw yesterday-
I should have picked it for my mother and placed it in a vase-
But she would never see it because she left this world- without saying “goodbyeâ€.
I am a stranger to this world and am still trying to find my way through the darkness.
I could take a ride on the tail of a shooting star and close my eyes and dream, as
I am searching for a new place in time, even though mysteriously-
When I close my eyes- all I can see are the roses dancing in a gentle winter’s breeze,
Though they are now withering away and dying.
It is a dreary winter’s night - but the stars are out and the moon is full.
It now illuminates the path I walk and I would give my soul to the world for
Some peace of mind and all I can do is close my eyes and
Follow the pathway of my fantasies and pray-
My wish would be to see the light shine upon the world of my delusions.
As I close my eyes and wish upon a star I weep- though
All I can see are roses, their petals to the wind- dead to the world outside.
Darkness prevails but I believe I see a star on this dreary night, silencing my tears.
And while that daffodil looks striking beneath the light of the full moon-
A night has never looked so beautiful, not even in a dream.
poem by Claudia Krizay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Bunch of Roses
Roses ruddy and roses white,
What are the joys that my heart discloses?
Sitting alone in the fading light
Memories come to me here tonight
With the wonderful scent of the big red roses.
Memories come as the daylight fades
Down on the hearth where the firelight dozes;
Flicker and flutter the lights and shades,
And I see the face of a queen of maids
Whose memory comes with the scent of roses.
Visions arise of a scent of mirth,
And a ball-room belle who superbly poses --
A queenly woman of queenly worth,
And I am the happiest man on earth
With a single flower from a bunch of roses.
Only her memory lives tonight --
God in his wisdom her young life closes;
Over her grave may the turf be light,
Cover her coffin with roses white
She was always fond of the big white roses.
*
Such are the visions that fade away --
Man proposes and God disposes;
Look in the glass and I see today
Only an old man, worn and grey,
Bending his head to a bunch of roses.
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Elegy To A Bee
I found a bee upon the grass
Who faced his final hour
And cupped him gently in my hand
Then set him on a flower.
A sweet white rose that nestle him
In petals, cotton soft,
Whose fragrance, as he breathed is last,
Bore his soul aloft.
And though his tiny body lies
Within the roses' breast,
His spirit shines, his song still hums
In every flower he kissed.
poem by Karen M. Stakem
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Yellow Roses
(k. devine/s. nichols)
(c) - (f) - (g) - (am)
(c) i just received, sweetheart, your yellow (f) roses
You tell me (c) that they mean that we're all (g) through
You tell me (c) that tonight your heart is (f) broken
But you should (c) know (g) i was never un (c) true
I'll (f) place them near your photograph and (c) as the petals fall
They'll (g) hide from you my lonely tears that (f) shouldn't fall at (g) all
(c) then they will slowly fade away and (f) die
But i still love (c) you though yellow (g) roses say good (c) bye
song performed by by Ry Cooder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Thanks for the flowers and roses
Thank you for the flowers and roses
The message reverberates
For the flowers and roses you sent
Everyone tells story
of happy moments we spent
as we walked down by the beach
Holding hand in hand together
Exchanging sweet kisses and affection
Getting splashed by the little waves
as they crash and hit the shore
Your red roses you sent
they are special remembrance to keep
For your warms hugs
for the lasting joy
When you held me tight
on the beach sands
Looking into my eyes
dreaming and gazing to the sky
poem by Sherif Monem
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Fancy bundle of Roses
laid in tears bundle with roses in the wrist line
with hands goggle for wither petals of lovely Roses
scramble feeling settle my knee of dense pain as
the heart, shout tremendously of anguish of nothing
left as I am today
role the pages of time and catch the running
stream for a drink, as the eyes watch the
thundering voice of delightful cry and dearly behold
that death will come to say and depart not to stay
in me, I am still have the pain
Roses are for free, nurturing thorn, bleeds
the trembling hand for that fancy, could be the last
request of my faithful heart, and leave me not my
heart, for only in you I stay and lay my true love
spread the tears of lasting perfume and sprinkle
the fancy Roses of droplets of heart, bundle with
genuine appeal, and turn the lasting friendship
into a window of splendid smell aroma of love,
the climax of my essence stay
propel the scented moist, lovingly gallops my Heart
and Soul ….
poem by Antonio Liao
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hymm to the Winds
To you, troop so fleet,
That with winged wandering feet,
Through the wide world pass,
And with soft murmuring
Toss the green shades of spring
In woods and grass,
Lily and violet
I give, and blossoms wet,
Roses and dew;
This branch of blushing roses,
Whose fresh bud uncloses,
Wind-flowers too.
Ah, winnow with sweet breath,
Winnow the holt and heath,
Round this retreat;
Where all the golden morn
We fan the gold o’ the corn,
In the sun’s heat.
poem by Joachim du Bellay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Anguish Thoughts
I saw a flower
Not so fresh, enchanting
It has no sweet smell as roses have.
But it has the thorns of roses.
If I touch a flower
I can tell its soft or rough
But all flowers are soft
Soft petals with sweet fragrance
Make a flower beloved.
But I can’t touch this flower
For it is dangerous.
But worms found its bed
And going to destroy my little flower.
Can this secret love
Destroy her crimson petals?
poem by Abdul Hakeem Parannur
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pink Rose
Somewhere
Upon my doorstep
A pink rose
Lay dying,
Although I never meant to hurt anyone,
All I could do was to pluck it from its branch
Not to give it to you –
Or to anyone,
Moreover,
Though-
It now lies haphazardly, and awkwardly
Alone in the grass in a graveyard
Withering –
All of its life has been usurped,
And-
All that is left alive is one thorn
Upon its stem,
Sticking into my side.
I cry out in pain,
But death never makes me weep, only laugh-
I know your father died some year’s ago-
Pink roses were laid upon his gravesite-
Everyone mourned, except for myself;
I placed my hand over may mouth and giggled.
I pick flowers, most often roses,
Wherever I walk,
Knowing they cannot live, when broken form their branches.
I laughed at your father’s funeral last year,
And picked a hundred pink roses form his rose garden,
I believe,
I am so sorry,
I was just being me,
I never meant to hurt anyone.
Claudia Krizay
poem by Claudia Krizay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Coloured Roses
As we stood solemnly
looking down at that deep hole
each of us tears held in our eyes.
We bowed our heads
and a prayer to say
when someone placed a bouquet
of coloured roses on the ground
before they buried you away.
A stranger whom we did not know
smiled and serenely said to us
that these flowers represent their life,
and what they gave to us.
Red roses for the blood
that pumped around
a kind and generous heart.
Yellow roses for the smile
that they gave us
whenever we were around.
Blue roses represent the colour of their eyes
that looked at us softly when they were alive
and for the feelings, we feel within our hearts today.
Orange roses represent the sunset
beyond where they have gone today
and where we hope to meet with them again someday.
White roses for the eternal light
we all must pass though one day
and the purity of spirit they wrap around us each day.
Purple roses for the mourning cloak
each of us wear at times like this.
Theses colours represent the rainbow
wrapped around each life.
Your loved one has not left you
but passed through to the next phase.
The stranger then looked around
smiled serenely again at all of us
then slowly faded away.
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Milky Tears
As the creek wherein I lay began to overflow
I looked upon the waterfall that poured like milky cream
And let the tender milkmaid fill the shallow, naked Earth
And pour onto the river, a quiet, gentle stream
And as my body sharply bent to sit atop the rocks
Under the cool of water stringy in its wavy trail
My eyes froze very sharply, like an iceberg in the sea
And in a bow and eyebrow rest, I began to wail
And as the dew falls off the crimson roses
So did my tears dropp in the winding lake
And only joy did dropp into the silky liquid
For only beauty did my eyes intake
poem by Sasha Ioffine
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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