The day is dying in a local town
Rose petal pink, orange tingeing into white-grey
the evening twilight fades away,
the soldiers, from general down,
the lawyer, the city lark, accountant, the office clown
are disseappearing into the enclosing dark,
the homeless man, the vagrants sit smoking
in the municipal park,
with a few mucho men joking
in the packed bar, the evening star
glitters her hello, shines down
across the hugely deserted town.
Crème liqueur, dark red wine
are whirling in glasses of lovers,
mistresses, in the hands of men,
some lovely women
and a few local swine
who cavort and dine
and some are cold as cadavers,
intent on getting more
than their money’s worth
from those that they adore
and pour more and more
whiskey and wine.
Tyres burn embers from the road,
light dwindles with the day
traffic lights shine brightly green, amber and red
some drunks, some fighting men goad
each other in the local pub
while prostitutes walk around ready to play
asking, “hey what’s up? ”
ready to take any paying man to bed
to lie any way, even inverted
but most places are totally deserted
except the local houses
where lights gleam, people gather with spouses
caged behind bars, steel palisades with dogs patrolling
with no police cars rolling or anybody strolling.
The skyline dwindles into dark night
and street light after streetlight
appear like cheap cosmetic jewels
with curtains in windows flapping like towels
forgotten on the washing line
and everything declines into rest
while busses, trucks, trains and machines
are doing their best to work on
and everything human disappears and is gone
while unknown lights keep passing by
are passing in the dark sky.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
What Is Pink?
What is pink? a rose is pink
By the fountain's brink.
What is red? a poppy's red
In its barley bed.
What is blue? the sky is blue
Where the clouds float through.
What is white? a swan is white
Sailing in the light.
What is yellow? pears are yellow,
Rich and ripe and mellow.
What is green? the grass is green,
With small flowers between.
What is violet? clouds are violet
In the summer twilight.
What is orange? why, an orange,
Just an orange!
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Color
What is pink? a rose is pink
By a fountain's brink.
What is red? a poppy's red
In its barley bed.
What is blue? the sky is blue
Where the clouds float thro'.
What is white? a swan is white
Sailing in the light.
What is yellow? pears are yellow,
Rich and ripe and mellow.
What is green? the grass is green,
With small flowers between.
What is violet? clouds are violet
In the summer twilight.
What is orange? Why, an orange,
Just an orange!
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pink Flowers.
Do not text me or think otherwise
I am just picking flowers from my garden.
Last evening I picked a red rose but
Wow! It proved to be too red for my date
Today I visited the same garden
The only flower I found was a white rose.
Where is my favourite pink rose?
This morning I cycled to the market
Sure, to buy my date a pink rose
But the only roses there were yellow and purple.
Tried to enquire where I could get one
But no one knows where to find.
Went to my flower vendor but nowhere to find
Where will I get my pink rose for my date?
Tomorrow, I'll travel far and wide
Only to get this precious pink flower
And if I succeed, my date will be happy
And my heart will find a solace rest
Amidst the residue of love petals
Just with the pink flower petals.
Where will I get my Pink rose flower?
(Dedicated for my pink flower date)
poem by Aron Lelei
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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While I have served in public office for 30 years, my professional training is as a pharmacist, not a lawyer or an accountant.
quote by George Ryan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Everlasting Rose
a rose is often used to show
your affectionate feelings to
someone special.
The 'r' in the word represents
The radiant beauty of a rose.
For no flow can compare.
For you are like a rose filled with passion
And are truly one of a kind.
The 'o' represents the overwhelming
depths of color of each petal of
the rose. It's like the outstanding
depths of color that spark in
your beautiful eyes.
The 's' represents the Softness
of each petal of the rose.
For your lips are like the
petalsof a rose, soft and sweet
to each kiss.
The 'e' represents the everlasting
beauty of the rose, for the rose
soon fades and dies.
But the everlasting beauty of it
stays in the eye of your mind forever
for you are like my rose.
For your beauty is everlasting
neither fades nor dies in the
eyes of the one that cares for you.
poem by Ryan Castro
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Afternoon Sky
I dream of a sky pink, orange and blue
hughes of purple are scattered there too.
Each color softly fades as the night starts to invade
but until this lovely site is through
I'll look at these colors; pink, orange and blue
poem by Elizabeth Walker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Colours Of Life
Sunny morning, golden noon, rose pink twilight, silver moon.
Grey black cloud, creamy sea, lightning bright, green brown tree.
Yellow with age, white with fright, red with rage, black as night.
Green with envy, rainbow hue, in the pink, sky of blue.
Countless colours running rife. These are the colours of our life.
poem by Rod Morris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Colors of the rose
A black rose holds back tears by blinking. You can never tell what a white rose is thinking. A yellow rose sends its sunny greeting. A pink rose holds innocence in every lining. If a red rose had hands it would open the door without knocking. To a purple rose I would say stop faking. A blue rose reminds me of blue jeans that need ironing. A orange rose has friendships without complaining. My green rose can't stop dreaming. Every rose describes a lot of longing.
A Pink Rose
A Pink rose is for the one,
Where love has blossomed and bloomed,
Where passion and purity,
With love and peace,
Combines and grows,
That brings forth the Pink rose,
Of the Red rose,
And of the White rose,
When both entwine,
Comes the Pink rose,
For all the blushing brides,
When the proposal is asked,
With the Pink rose as a sign,
Is one asking another,
In love and loves first
Red and White,
That all will show,
And carry a wedding bonquet,
Are all the Blushing brides to be,
For the Pink rose if for the one,
Where love has blossomed and bloomed,
Representing passion and purity,
That has love and peace,
Combining and growing,
From two different in color,
One extreme to another,
From the Red and the White,
That combine,
And show true love,
A Pink rose evolves,
Showing true love,
It shows in it's splendor of Pink,
For the blushing bride to be,
So to say,
'I do',
When the question is popped,
On this Valentines Day,
Valentine's Day,
A day of proposal's,
Where it is asked,
From one to another,
'Will you be mine',
From this Valentine's Day,
On to,
The next,
And,
The next,
And,
There after.
poem by Ellen Ni Bheachain
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An Orange Painting! ! !
An orange photograph
painted on the sky
a canvas far and high
my thought then flies
as wind it blows
to a day many years ago
I was a boy, a child
dreams were big and wild
it was a usual evening
I lied on the grass daydreaming
I saw the sky was empty
no twilight I perceived
Then I raised my hand
to the sky my fingers went
I drew a line on the sky
so lengthy and so high
I depicted conscientiously
the twilight I'd like to see
As my point finger moved
an orange color bloomed
An orange twilight was formed,
an empty sky was gone.
Long from that day I age already
older today I might have been
It's been nine years passed
I don't even recall where it was
Years have passed from that day,
many things change too,
If many have changed,
I might have changed too.
But when today I see the twilight,
a familiar thought flashes bright
and a question appears to me,
so warmly and so vividly
'Is the orange color in the sky today,
is the same twilight I've drawn that day? '
poem by Kite Remedy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Orange Rose - Parody John Boyle O’REILLY – A White Rose
White rose peeps, weeps too purely,
while red shows scarlet sins,
subjectivism’s surely
a set of moral gins.
Yet an orange rose shows gaily,
a ball of fire and flame,
but when it blows away we
may ask - “what’s in a name? ”
Both white and red demurely
like angels sit on pins
and needles - immaturely
lapelled ere bloom begins; -
But an orange! rows of trees we
plant carefully and claim
the orange rose to tease, - see
love came to play the game.
Though passion in a fashion
attracts at Valentine's
true love one should not ration
to sprightly Columbines.
Some send bud blood, cream, peachy,
flush plush on petal tips,
with a dress from Nina Ricci
and a wallet full of tips,
I, eyeing orange grandeur,
from red, white, thorny, change, -
chromatic spectrum's splendour
finds preconceptions strange
as love to true beholder
no colours sees but stream
whose energies true hold a
soul's music, tender dreams.
Poor falcon wings so lonely,
no rhyme therewith we find,
and as for love there's only
above glove, dove, - shove signed!
That red rose wings like falcon,
that white dove rhymes with love,
may colour poets' balcon
-y pruned by critic's glove,
yet an Orange rose flamboyant
leaves red, white, in the shade,
its petals bright flame, buoyant
of such are poems made...
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Rose Petal
A Rose Petal
By: Artistic Perspective
September 15,2009
Age 12
A Rose Petal quickly falls off its rose.
I see that it's falling quickly, but in my mind I see it slowly.
What's pleasant about a piece of itself ripping, tearing away?
The only pleasant thought about it, is it will grow a new rose.
I watch the petal fall and plummet.
Until it hits the ground.
Rose petals, Rose petals, are all around.
Why must they fall off?
The rose is now unwhole.
Hopefully, it will come back,
Restore the rose's soul.
poem by Poem hunters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Friends Never Say Goodbye
Friends never say
goodbye...
But you and me
will never be the
same again.
Our friendship is
like a dying rose...
Every petal falls
off.
Every single rose petal
means something....
What you did to our
friendship is that
rose petal.
I’m sorry....but that
rose...is never going
to grow back....
And neither is our
friendship.
poem by Lisa Parks
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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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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Petal of a Rose
A whole forest of them,
Or just a single petal of a rose,
Is enough,
Grasp it in my hand,
Grasp it I shall,
In hurricanes or normal rainy days,
It won't leave my caring palms,
That one petal of a rose,
To remind me of the rose in all her beauty,
But the rose is gone,
In some other forest some place far,
A forest forbidden to me,
There it blooms without me,
Only because of this fool's mistake,
So please do not escape or leave me,
Petal of a rose,
poem by Paurakh Shrestha
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Rose Petal
A Rose Petal
By: Artistic Perspective
September 15,2009
Age 12
A Rose Petal quickly falls off its rose.
I see that it's falling quickly, but in my mind I see it slowly.
What's pleasant about a piece of itself ripping, tearing away?
The only pleasant thought about it, is it will grow a new rose.
I watch the petal fall and plummet.
Until it hits the ground.
Rose petals, Rose petals, are all around.
Why must they fall off?
The rose is now unwhole.
Hopefully, it will come back,
Restore the rose's soul.
poem by Artistic Perspective
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Never Thought, For One, In My Life
i, once, for one, never
ever thought, that you, who came
later in my life, so ordinary like
a single petal of a white rose,
blown by the wind,
falling on my path, which i pick up,
without, at first, so much interest,
you, that i keep, and set aside,
in one corners of my room,
you spread the sweetest rosy
scent in my room, filling all the
emptiness, that once,
was there, now, i take a closer look,
and kiss you, what miracle is there,
it happens, you are the
best rose, that happened
in my life, my white petal
my wife, my soul mate.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A spring evening
Outside the irises flower yellow and purple
and I haven’t seen a red one yet
and there are some pink and white blossoms
on the fruit trees
and the streetlights burn continually
glowing orange-yellow
all day and all night
as if the municipality
does not know how to do things right
and in the fading evening light
the moon is full and white
and the evening star is already shining bright
and a hot breeze sweeps in
through the open windows
and I wonder when the first spring rain
is going to fall
and in the distance I see thunder
crashing down
in blue-white flashes, but the storm
is blown away and again the sky is clear
and the black speckled by stars.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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