The White Door
She gave me a call and i went to her room,
And immediately the doors were shut behind me;
But one thing led to the other and,
We finally found ourselves naked on the bed of roses!
The White Door,
But with a tub to the spot of thwe tops! !
There she laid and we made love,
And like the sweet smell of the roses around.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
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
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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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Venus in the Garden
'Twas at early morning,
The dawn was blushing in her purple bed,
When in a sweet, embowered garden
She, the fairest of the goddesses,
The lovely Venus,
Roamed amongst the roses white and red.
She sought for flowers
To make a garland
For her golden head.
Snow-white roses, blood-red roses,
In that sweet garden close,
Offered incense to the goddess:
Both the white and the crimson rose.
White roses, red roses, blossoming:
But the fair Venus knew
The crimson roses had gained their hue
From the hearts that for love had bled;
And the goddess made a garland
Gathered from the roses red.
poem by James Weldon Johnson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It Must Have Been The Roses
Annie laid her head down in the roses.
She had ribbons, ribbons, ribbons, in her long brown hair.
I dont know, maybe it was the roses,
All I know I could not leave her there.
I dont know, it must have been the roses,
The roses or the ribbons in her long brown hair.
I dont know, maybe it was the roses,
All I know I could not leave her there.
Ten years the waves roll the ships home from the sea,
Thinkin well how it may blow in all good company,
If I tell another what your own lips told to me,
Let me lay neath the roses, till my eyes no longer see.
I dont know, it must have been the roses,
The roses or the ribbons in her long brown hair.
I dont know, maybe it was the roses,
All I know I could not leave her there.
One pane of glass in the window,
No one is complaining, no, come in and shut the door,
Faded is the crimson from the ribbons that she wore,
And its strange how no one comes round any more.
I dont know, it must have been the roses,
The roses or the ribbons in her long brown hair.
I dont know, maybe it was the roses,
All I know I could not leave her there.
Annie laid her head down in the roses.
She had ribbons, ribbons, ribbons, in her long brown hair.
I dont know, maybe it was the roses,
All I know I could not leave her there.
song performed by by Grateful Dead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Roses Are Red (Jessica)
Roses are red Violets are blue,
Honey is so sweet and so are you darling!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
You've made my dreams come true!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I have my brown eyes glued on YOU!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I feel like i have known you!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
You are so FINE that you give me the BLUES!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
Lord knows that im falling for you!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I just want to Rock with you!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
These lips can't wait to be kissing you!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I do anything to claim you!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I bow down to you!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I've never met anyone as HOT as you!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
never knew i would meet you!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I'm going to bed would you like to come too!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I rather spend my precious time with you!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
You are beautiful as sparkling DIAMOND!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
You have me speechless everytime i talk to you!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
May i have this dance with you (JESSICA)
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I have mentioned your name so many time i have lost count!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I dont want no-one if i cant have you. #PERIOD
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I want to give you everlasting Joy, Happiness, and especially LOVE!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I'm the one who will make your dreams come true
Roses are red Violets are blue,
Chilli is hot and so are you!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
JESSICA ITA JAMES WILL YOU BE MY GIRLFRIEND! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
Roses are red Violets are blue,
THIS POEM WAS MADE FOR YOU.......
poem by Obi Onyenwe
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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Roses&Violet
Roses are Red Violets are Blue sugar is sweet as you
Roses are Red Violets are Blue I'll make all your dreams come true
Roses are Red Violets are Blue you know I got my eye on you
Roses are Red Violets are Blue I feel lost without you
Roses are Red Violets are Blue I know you can't wait for these lips to be Kissing you
Roses are Red Violets are Blue I'll do anything to be with you
Roses are Red Violets are Blue I never knew love until I found you
Roses are Red Violets are Blue I never met someone as sexy as you
Roses are Red Violets are blue I Love you and never want to be separated from you
poem by Kensy Jean
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Roses On White Lace
I saw you in your wedding gown
The prettiest dress
I came into the room that night
And made such a mess
In my own way, I lovingly kiss the bride
With your ring in your hand
Your eyes and your mouth open wide
In my eyes
Blood drops look like roses on white lace
They won't wash away
In my mind they're roses on white lace
Straight from the heart
So dead upon the bed
You hurt me in the deepest way
I'm crippled inside
I took your evil skin away
It's all cut and dried
I saw you tonight and carefully took your hand
With some smears on my cheeks
I knew that you would understand
In my eyes
Blood drops look like roses on white lace
They won't wash away
In my mind they're roses on white lace
Straight from the heart
So dead upon the bed, still searching for your head
They're never gonna find your face
It's hidden away
I found a very special place where you used to play
In my own way, I lovingly kiss the bride
With your ring in your hand
Your eyes and your mouth open wide
In my eyes
Blood drops look like roses on white lace
They won't wash away
In my mind they're roses on white lace
Straight from the heart
Blood drops look like roses on white lace
Crimson and sweet, stained on the sheet
Roses on white lace, pretty in red, dripping and wet
Roses on white lace, spilled on the walls, dark in the hall
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Roses Are Red Violets Are Blue
Roses are red
Violets are blue
I've never found someone as patient
As you
Roses are red
Violets are blue
If you get lost
Then I'll look for you
Roses are red
Violets are blue
You know I'm always sorry
When I hurt you
Roses are red
Violets are blue
If I could
Id turn back to when i first kissed you
Roses are red
Violets are blue
If you don't believe me
Then what else can I do
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Baby no one knows me
As much as you
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Believe I'll do anything
To get next to you
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Tell me you still love me
And I'll run to you
Roses are red
Violets are blue
You might not know
But I love you
Roses are red
Violets are blue
The stars shine bright
But not as bright as you do
Roses are red
Violets are blue
If I could pick anyone
I would pick you
Roses are red
Violets are blue
The first day I saw you
That's when I knew
Roses are red
Violets are blue
No one will ever love you
As much as I do
Roses are red violets are blue
Even if you get me mad
I'll still be in love with you
Roses are red
Violets are blue
My heart skips a beat
When I'm laying next to you
Roses are red
Violets are blue
If you love me
Then show me that that love is true
poem by Jennifer Alejandra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Roses
Oh, wind of the spring-time, oh, free wind of May,
When blossoms and bird-song are rife;
Oh, joy for the season, and joy for the day,
That gave me the roses of life, of life,
That gave me the roses of life.
Oh, wind of the summer, sing loud in the night,
When flutters my heart like a dove;
One came from thy kingdom, thy realm of delight,
And gave me the roses of love, of love,
And gave me the roses of love.
Oh, wind of the winter, sigh low in thy grief,
I hear thy compassionate breath;
I wither, I fall, like the autumn-kissed leaf,
He gave me the roses of death, of death,
He gave me the roses of death.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rosalie
Of the sweet smell of a rose,
Of the coming of a baby into this world;
Rise up and look!
For her name is Rosalie.
A red rose into the world so sweet,
The love from a lady in red;
Red roses, red roses!
Of the pink ladies to visit the world;
Rosalie, welcome to the world so sweet.
To be born and be named Rosalie,
Dated on the 23.03.2006;
Welcome into the world so sweet!
To you the roses bloomed,
To you a joy is praised,
Mathias and Verena are your parents;
And beauty was your day of birth.
Like the sweet smell of a rose,
You were born on your grandmother's birth date;
So let the pink around you bring up the roses like,
The sweet aroma around you too.
Rosalie, Rosalie, Rosalie! !
Enter into the world so sweet and,
We will remember this day always.
You are the sweet smell of a rose,
Like the coming of a baby into this world;
For, we will rise and look!
And your name is Rosalie.
Welcome into the world so sweet,
Of the pink ladies to swing the muse like your type and,
Rest on the sweet aroma lying invisible ever around you;
For you have made our day by receiveing you into this world!
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.
Mama Liked The Roses
(words & music by j. christopher)
Oh, mama liked the roses she grew them in the yard
But winter always came around and made the growing way too hard
Oh, mama liked the roses and when she had the time
Shed decorate the living room, for all us kids to see
When I hear the sunday bells ringing in the morning
I remember crying when she used to sing
Oh, mama liked the roses but most of all she cared
About the way we learned to live
And if we said our prayers
You know I kept the family bible
With a rose that she saved inside
It was pressed between the pages
Like it had found a place to hide
Oh, mama liked the roses in such a special way
We bring them every mothers day
And put them on her grave
Oh, mama liked the roses mmmm
Mama liked the roses
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Where The Wild Roses Grow
Word and music by: nick cave
They call me the wild rose
But my name is elisa day
Why they call me it I do not know
For my name is elisa day
From the first day I saw her I knew she was the one
As she stared in my eyes and smiled
For her lips were the colour of the roses
That grew down the river, all bloody and wild
When he knocked on my door and entered the room
My trembling subsided in his sure embrace
He would be my first man, and with a careful hand
He wiped at the tears that ran down my face
Chorus
On the second day I brought her a flower
She was more beautiful than any woman Id seen
I said, do you know where the wild roses grow
So sweet and scarlet and free?
On the second day he came with a single red rose
Said: will you give me your loss and your sorrow?
I nodded my head, as I lay on the bed
He said, if I show you the roses will you follow?
Chorus
On the third day he took me to the river
He showed me the roses and we kissed
And the last thing I heard was a muttered word
As he stood smiling above me with a rock in his fist
On the last day I took her where the wild roses grow
And she lay on the bank, the wind light as a thief
As I kissed her goodbye, I said, all beauty must die
And lent down and planted a rose between her teeth
Chorus
song performed by by Kylie Minogue
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pick Me Up
There are too many roses down on the ground
There are too many people throwing them around
Every rose has a value unbound
So would you please pick them up from the ground?
There are too many people staring at the moon
And many forget when the roses will bloom
And when they do they'll be treated so rude
And they're sweet smell turns to no value
A rose is a wonderful thing to hold
It has a scent so sweet to the nose
It's filled with love and kindness so deep
But we don't appreciate a thing so sweet
Until it's gone and we're left all alone
Searching for one but they're already gone
It's like when too many people start cursing the rain
Waiting by the window and begging in vain
That the rain should come another day
While the rose savors the rain
Knowing that soon it will go away
But never knowing when it will come again
I said it before and I'll say it again
There are too many roses being thrown away
Broken in spirit and wasting away
But I see a few being treated as they deserve
Smelt with well closed eyes to savor it well
Appreciate a well colored rose
It has a scent so sweet to the nose
You'll never know when the rain comes no more
You never know when the roses won't grow
So throw them away and treat them so cold
You'll never find them when you need them the most.
poem by Hafeni Nghidinua
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Consolation
All the roses that I see now
I planted where you're not.
And all of those roses still do bloom
in my favorite spot.
There you were buried not long ago
and I visit where you're not.
For surely a soul as sweet as yours
would never grace a plot.
But still I visit and water the roses
and pray that you can see
what this small act of tending
has been able to do for me.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Loss
IN the world was one green nook I knew,
Full of roses, roses red and white,
Reddest roses summer ever grew,
Whitest roses ever pearled with dew;
And their sweetness was beyond delight,
Was all love's delight.
Wheresoever in the world I went,
Roses were; for in my heart I took
Blow and blossom and bewildering scent;
Roses never with the summer spent,
Roses always ripening in that nook,
Love's far summer nook.
In the world a soddened plot I know
Blackening in this chill and misty air,
Set with shivering bushes in a row,
One by one the last leaves letting go:
Wheresoe'er I turn I shall be there,
Always sighing there.
Ah, my folly! Ah, my loss, my pain!
Dead, my roses that can blow no more!
Wherefore looked I on our nook again?
Wherefore went I after autumn's rain,
Where the summer roses bloomed before,
Bloomed so sweet before?
poem by Augusta Davies Webster
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To Love You
Spend the night with me and,
Let me show you my sweet bed of roses.
Spend the night with me and,
Taste the love that you are looking for.
Spend the night with me and,
Come under the protection of my roof of sweet love.
Refresh yourself with the true love from my breasts and,
Let me satisfy you with my muse in the land of love.
Come and entertain me with your sweet love and,
Spend the night with me on this side of the river.
Come and entertain me with your nakedness and,
Let me lead you on to my sweet bed of roses.
For, this will be like the dream of your life and the dream of mine! !
And like a land flowing with milk and honey.
Rise up in the morning and comfort me with your love,
For my bed of sweet roses is well laid with the aroma of love waitng for you.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Golden Roses
Golden Roses just for you,
anyone can give red roses,
theres plenty around,
for you white roses,
won't do.
Golden Roses just for you,
none other will do,
for someone special
so rare and true.
Golden Roses just for you,
dipped in pure gold,
just as your heart
has dipped your love into mine,
and shall not depart.
wrote 1-2-07