The Last pedal
The silence of the day
Allowed me
To gather up some simple thoughts
In the garden,
Next to a simple cottage
Over grown by Ivy
Surrounds all four walls
Grew the summer time rose
I miss getting its sweet fragrance.
Her beauty now devastated.
As The last pedal hit the selfish ground
Painful sight of the barin stem
Leaving only the piercing points of its thorns
Touching her now makes deep wounds
I missed having the summertime rose
Soft and fragrant.
Memories I have
Will carry me
Battling my way
From torment and vacancy
She will return
Under the spring time warmth.
Unearthing the eternity.
poem by Howard Johnson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Summer Rose
Winters instincts freeze the day,
My lovely summer rose shed it's petal's to keep the cold away,
Every petal resembles warmth and a new love into my heart,
Melting all of the ice inside to make a shallow bay,
Piercing me with her thorns like a dart,
Blinding me with its view,
My summer rose came into bloom,
The light shined like never before,
Bringing me into a world of never-ending doors,
A summer rose showed me the way,
Into the door that sealed my heart with yours forever to stay,
As the door closes keeping only you inside,
Your heart and mine began to collide,
One rose truly stood out most of all,
A summer rose only i can see,
Show everyone how much you mean to me,
Fill them with what you hold back and only keep for me within you,
Everybody watch closely and begin to see,
Here comes the summers majesty
She walks this way this kingdom bound,
Ill bow down beneath her for my heart she won,
A everlasting pedal will hit the ground,
For the dance of burning summers had just begun,
Love like this keeps the summer intertwined,
My bright rose the battle was mine,
The war you started on your own,
Let the summer reign for my vibrant rose,
As she molds her self into my heart like soft clay,
Melody's ring the summer still here,
An ancient hymn begins to bring me near,
My summer rose you've found me again,
Now together, forever will burn,
For each other until the very end,
poem by Daniel Filippov
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pondering upon the Rose on a Sunday Morning......
The symbol of love
When giving in love a rose speaks for itself
The beauty is picturesque
The scent it gives lasting for ever
The rose never seen without her thorns
Still who can not feel happiness when a rose is seen or given?
Even for a brief minute, a second the rose brings a smile
Or perhaps a small sigh of delight
If one were to think upon a rose…
The thorns… the beauty…
The petals that carry the essence…
That lingers even after it is withered
If one were compare to our Lord…
He held thorns upon his precious head; the head of the rose is above the thorns
His love was known for its beauty and compassion, the rose noted for love
His words and Spirit lingers for eternity much like the scent of the rose
My Lord created the Rose
Perhaps he created it for remembrance of His son
Looking upon the rose I see it all so clearly
The meaning of love
The beauty
An essence that shall always be with me
poem by Patricia Gale
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In the spirit of Rumi - 36 - The rose told me
In the garden,
I look at a rose and wonder
Is this rose
laughing with God?
Is it God’s smile, and message, to the earth?
Does it tell
Of God’s goodness, truth, and beauty?
Of God’s stillness? Peace? and silence?
Or if you gazed at it long enough
and carefully enough,
perhaps with a laugh or smile,
in stillness, peace, and silence,
would it tell you everything
that God would have you know?
* * *
For even if you are
a cynic, locked into your own mind
by your own key
and say, oh, it’s just
savage, ruthless nature, competing
with all the other flowers, for the bees –
for nothing but its own selfish ends -
you must admit
that Whoever allowed, invented, made, decreed
the laws for the construction of
such complex, simple beauty (which a bee may never know?)
is pretty cool.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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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
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The Rose With Thorns
The rose with thorns
Beautiful passion red rose
But dangerous with thorns
Picked off the garden
By a bard on
Realize he was bleeding
Thought roughly about his feelings
About why the rose had thorns
Never again would he pick up the red rose with thorns
The rose only brought him pain
Thoe he did not go insane
By wanting to stomp on it
But he just forfeit on it
He just let the rose there on the ground
And the rose was hoping it would be found
So the bard on
Left the garden
Checked his finger with the thorn pulled it out
finger was bleeding and never looked back at the rose with the thorns
poem by Jose antonio Torres galeana
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My Lovely Rose
I have a rose in the garden,
Unfolding red lovely petals,
With thorns surrounding it,
Could not touch and smell its fragrance.
I left the garden,
I left my lovely rose,
Far away yet so near,
Could not touch and smell its fragrance.
Time have passed,
Have seen again my rose,
Beautiful and sweetly scented at its full blossom,
Could not touch and smell its fragrance.
My rose is not mine anymore,
Yet I let my rose feel
Thy undoubting care and heart rejoicing,
Could glimpse again my lovely rose.
poem by Dong Agosto
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Perfect Rose
A Perfect Rose
So deep and pure, the one I chose
From this earthly garden. a perfect rose,
Fragile, yet it only bends,
In times of rain are days of winds.
Close to my heart, this rose I hold,
Its' beauty to me like solid gold,
A perfect rose that means so much,
That I am thrilled by a single touch.
A perfect rose it has been said,
Is the symbol of love, a long stem red,
No others can or will compete
For my perfect rose so soft and sweet.
My love for the rose, a beauty still,
Has not faded and never will,
This rose I hold, the one I chose,
My loving wife, a perfect rose.
Richard Netherland Cook
poem by Richard Netherland Cook
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Fair Rose
Fair rose, fair rose, so sweet and soft,
Just as the skin of a new born babe,
Thy beauty grows as day goes by,
The danger wakes in thy razor thorns.
How, oh how can a creature so beauteous,
Hold such dire treacherousness?
Thou hast drawn me in so close,
Just outside thy painful touch,
When desire outgrows sense,
And thy thorn doth bring red stain.
Fair rose, fair rose, so sweet and soft,
How can thy beauty hold such great pain?
poem by Joseph Cross
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A Red Rose for You
I wish a rose can last forever.
I wish the pedals never fall,
The chance of becoming true? Never.
This rose will have you know it all.
The red rose I have for you
Is as pure as my love for you.
It will let you know that my
Love for you is true.
Hopefully this rose,
Will give you warmth in your heart.
If you feel the warmth,
That's the feeling that we will never be apart.
This red rose I have for you
Will show you the beauty I see.
Everytime I see you,
You are the beauty to me.
This rose will show you
The smile that brightens up my day.
This rose will show you on every pedal,
The words I love you in every way.
This red rose for you
Might show you I'm shy.
But I know for a fact,
That it will show that for you, I'll light up the sky.
This red rose for you,
Will let you know,
That for you,
Any where I'll go.
In this letter it will show you,
That every word is meant.
My words are so faithful,
As the beauty of a red rose you won't forget.
This is my Rose to you.
(December 6,2008)
poem by Joey Rodriguez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Last Rose Of Summer
Throughout the soft and timeless days of august
til now the shadows begin to grow much longer
The sunsets fire has deepened blood red
I give you this, the last rose of summer
A token of my unyielding love
So when the winters mantle stills the earth
And all around seems dead and cold
This rose reminds you of a time when all was warm and living
Do not despair, mother nature simply rests
In sleep she has well earned
til one day not so very far from now
With the opening of the first rose buds I shall return
A token of my unyielding love
So that when winters mettle steals the earth
And all around seems dead and cold
This rose reminds you of a time when all was warm and living
The last rose of summer
The last rose of summer
In your long shadows
The last rose of summer
In the sunset
The last rose of summer
Take this rose that I give you
The last rose of summer
The last rose of summer
Dont worry about the winter
The last rose of summer
I shall return
The last rose of summer
The last rose of summer
(fade)
song performed by by Judas Priest
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Always the Rose
Roses always stand for love,
But why a rose and not another?
A rose may be fair, a rose may be sweet
But its thorns are sharp, and can cut deep
Just like simple words can create a rift
That cannot be bridged, not even by love.
So why a rose, why the two-faced flower
For something we perceive as flawless?
poem by Anne Rhitak
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The Disgarded Garden
Their once was a young man who wanted to become a Gardner. There once was a young Rose Tree that wanted a Gardener. They met each other one summer day and began what seemed to be a beautiful relationship. The Gardner was attentive of his garden along with his Rose Tree and the Rose Tree was so happy that its tender branches grew and it bloomed continuously for the Gardner so he’d always be happy.
As time went by the Rose Tree noticed that Gardner wouldn’t tend to her as much as he once did. And when he did he would cut away harshly at the Rose Tree. The Rose Tree being a simple plant who did not need much attention still bloomed for the Gardner. It seemed the more she tried, the more the Gardner would cut away and the tree was now nestled in the ground. Why could this be? He had a bountiful garden that any Gardner would have loved to have. What more could anyone want thought the Rose Tree.
Now in an abandoned garden the Rose Tree grows back its branches, with very thick thorn’s to protect it self. As time goes by one day, out of nowhere appears a Gardener who has silently admired the Rose Tree from outside the garden gates and begins to nurture the Rose Tree in her garden. He tenderly and sympathetically pulls away all the weeds and brush from the Rose Tree so the air, rain & sunshine can reach her again. Allowing her the opportunity to grow back as she once was; vibrant, strong, colorful and to be simply, herself.
This is something the Rose Tree had long forgotten and is very grateful for the loving words of encouragement and kindness that her new Gardner has shown. She longingly awaits for his visits and when the Gardner comes to see her she bloom’s for him and relaxes underneath his beautifully kind smile. My darling Gardner, I am glad fate has brought you to walk along the path leading to the once lost garden and Rose Tree.
poem by Sarah Barron
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My Daughter Tanya
My Daughter Tanya
In my dreams I saw a gorgeous Pink rose
Heavenly soul wanted me to have it in my garden
I woke up and started thinking of it
Winter came and the weather grew cold
Beautiful single rose grew out of moist soil
Rain water harvested my rose well
It grew straight bloomed in spring
Flourished in summer
Scent was lovely everyone knew
Petals were very soft and shiny
Little rose bud was clad in pink petals
You were sent to me from God,
In the shape of gorgeous pink rose
With the sweetness of all honey bees
As soon as spring revealed itself.
I found Pink rose in my house
Its beauty gave me a sense of power
Its presence gave me the taste of mother hood
I have made it comprehensible
This is you my elder daughter Tanya
I love you dear
poem by Dr Shamim ali
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Prose to a Rose
Such A flower is the rose
Its colour bursting red
Such a flower if the rose
The flower of passion the poets often said
I could gaze upon its beauty
And not lift thine eyes
And when it closes its petals to go to sleep
A tear of sadness rises in my eyes
Such a flower is the rose
For it reminds me of you my dear
When ever I gaze upon a rose
It makes me wish you were here
Its petals are soft as thy skin
The colour like your lips
Its fragrance is sweet and pure
Like the flavor of your kiss
Such a flower is the rose it beauty
Has been endless through out time
And when ever I see a rose be reassured my love
You are for ever on my mind
poem by John A. Hancock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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~ My Hidden Stem ~
I give you my rose, yet you see it so beautiful all around, the petals so blooming and so lovely, but look at the stem which is my stem, the green root of nevergazing attractivness, that which is hidden, that which is the real and genuine beauty, my nights of eternal desire lie within the stem, but you only see the outside beauty of the painted red petals, the power, the force, the passion, the fountain that spring forth the lifted rose, is found on my stem. For beauty can be easily found, but sheer beauty is not, and you must find me and travel as deep, as lenthly and beyond.
poem by Dandy leo jr.
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I Carry a Single Rose
I carry a single red Rose
In my tightening hold
For Love is what it propose
At least it’s what I’m told.
It’s fragrance of beauty
Overtakes me with its great power
The air all around me
When I hold a single flower
I grasp the Red Rose ever more tight
Drip, drip red petals fall into the night.
This Rose, a lovely delight
Has already consumed my sense of smell
Now it has stolen my sight
In this symbol of love I dwell
The ruby red petals fill my eyes
Captures the thoughts in my mind
Now I am completely hypnotized
Now I am completely blind.
I grasp the Red Rose ever more tight
Drip, drip red petals fall into the night.
It dazzles me, until it is all I can see
It’s touch so gentle against my cheek
Trapped me inside this beautiful make believe
For my heart, Love it will always seek
The leaves run through my finger tip
As they map a stem so strong and tall
A stem that fit so nicely inside my grip
Its lushes strength adds beauty to it all
I grasp the Red Rose ever more tight
Drip, drip red petals fall into the night.
I hold on for dear life
As my body sets off painful alarms
And now I’m stuck in this strife
Of letting go and hanging on
It’s so perfect, inside my hold
But I can feel the world around me
I can feel it growing cold
Now I am leaving this make believe
I grasp the Red Rose ever more tight
Drip, drip red petals fall into the night.
In a moment of true disgust
I slowly loosen my grasp
And I take away my trust
And wait for my world to collapse
But Pain races through my bones
So I clench a Rose inside my fist
And I realize I am alone
Lost inside this confusing mist
I grasp the Red Rose ever more tight
Drip, drip red petals fall into the night.
And I finally swiftly let go
The Rose falls to the bloody ground
No longer shall my blood flow
No longer shall I be bound
And of this single Red Rose
Petals of Love blinded me to my Pain
Being neither friend nor foe
I wash the blood with tears like rain.
I leave the Rose with all my might
Run, run into the black cold night.
Empty
I miss you so very much-I miss you- I truly do-
In the hours and days that are empty of your sweet smile...
Where silence echos against the walls and the walls echo only you-
I miss you so very much-I miss you so-I truly do;
Gathering up my memories-Gathering up all of my memories of you...
Arranging them all alphabetically-Alphabetically, i do-
In the silence where emptiness echos-It echos of all that is true...
I gather up my memories-Sweet memories-My memories of you;
poem by Theodora Onken
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The Rose
There was a Rose so warm and bright.
And from it smiles would grow.
It stood out from the other Plants.
It; s beauty was on show.
A Flower with such presence,
That all that came to see.
A Rose within a garden
Blooming happily.
Then one day it's leavs grew weak.
And the brightness seemed to fade.
How could a bud of beuaty,
Grow dull from day to day?
And suddenly the smiles grew weak.
No more stunning petals
No more standing tall.
Then one day the rose grew weak.
And to the ground it fell.
Such a loss to all around
Enchanted by it's spell.
And so a space in the garden
Where once beaty grew.
A space that could never be filled.
By a presence so strong and true
( not written by me but i liked the poem so much it makes me think of my dad)
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
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50th Birthday and A Rose by any other name......
Version One
============
A Rose is not a Rose without the thorns,
You have a full life and share of thorns,
The beauty of a rose will fade in time,
Beauty may fade but wisdom matures like wine.
-
Version Two
===========
A Rose by any other name,
Would just sound so tame.
Such beauty is the Rose,
Even with thorns, it shows.
Another year has passed
You have passed your test
A clean bill of health
is important than wealth.
For when you have your health
You can then build your wealth!
Baby Baby Baby Mine
Baby, baby small and bright tiny beams of light. A Tiny rose petals so slight unfold you will I'd hope to be a guide; I'd hope to help your steps that they don't slide. Clumsy hands are mine but helped by God as He unfold the rose I hold that each petal will fall in time, baby, baby, baby mine.
I pray that I teach you gentleness, goodness and love for what blossom can survive without the rain that falls from God above, the good deep soil in Him may you root and rapidly climb. As I hold you in my arms I'm filled with hope because of the design I'll trust him to unfold our moments in time baby, baby, baby mine.
In future year's thorns sharpen as they grow, for barbed thorns cut deep I pray that they be pruned away. The Keeper takes care that he remove those that hurt, the rose be bare its lovely fragrance to share. The yellow leaves get nutrients from above for the leaves expose the rose and the fragrance of its soul. You will develop with love in time baby, baby, baby mine.
Shall not the shoot of the root unfold another tiny fragrant rose to behold in time baby, baby, baby mine?
Someday you shall wither and die and bloom again with the Rose of Sharon in the sky since I've trusted God above for guidance and care that forever shall our love intertwine upon His vine, baby, baby, baby mine
poem by Vanita Allgood
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