Rose
A rose is but a woman
Chaste, fragrant, prominent
Its thorns its protecting weapon
In haste to retaliate, violate
Roseate blossom is innocent, redolent
Wafting in air chaste fragrance
Crushed by anyone malevolent
Thorns'll pierce him bleed by vehemence
poem by Indira Renganathan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Why Roses Have Thorns
Of all the flowers I've ever seen,
The lovely rose holds the most mystery.
Almost queenly in majestic beauty,
A thing of perfected artistry.
It comes in so many varied colors,
Its fragrance unique among all flowers,
A floral gem you'd enjoy for hours,
An exquisite rose is the flower of lovers.
But like a lady of wondrous charm,
Such beauty can cause a little harm.
The rose has thorns that make one bleed,
And hurts the hand that crushes it.
Some women like the rose have thorns,
When in their hearts true love is born.
The love you pledge do not forfeit-
A woman can bleed your heart....
and
crush it.
Copyright 2008 - Cynthia B. Baello
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
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
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The Rose Is You
there is a rose
in my heart
and it has so
many thorns
i bleed and i look
at the mirror
so beautifully
the bleeding goes on and on
years and years
how can the thorns be so hurting?
it is the rose that matters
and it is you...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
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The Flower of Love
'Tis said the rose is Love's own flower,
Its blush so bright, its thorns so many;
And winter on its bloom has power,
But has not on its sweetness any.
For though young Love's ethereal rose
Will droop on Age's wintry bosom,
Yet still its faded leaves disclose
The fragrance of their earliest blossom.
But ah! the fragrance lingering there
Is like the sweets that mournful duty
Bestows with sadly-soothing care,
To deck the grave of bloom and beauty.
For when its leaves are shrunk and dry,
Its blush extinct, to kindle never,
That fragrance is but Memory's sigh,
That breathes of pleasures past for ever.
Why did not Love the amaranth choose,
That bears no thorns, and cannot perish ?
Alas! no sweets its flowers diffuse,
And only sweets Love's life can cherish.
But be the rose and amaranth twined,
And Love, their mingled powers assuming,
Shall round his brows a chaplet bind,
For ever sweet, for ever blooming.
poem by Thomas Love Peacock
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A Rose Amidst the thorns
Roses in profusion
bloomed along our garden wall.
They were both red and yellow-
tea hybrids, I recall.
There were thorns too,
as I well knew,
standing guard among the blooms.
A careless creature soon would learn
to give the rose wide berth
An agony of thorns awaits
the careless of the earth.
Yet thorns permit the bees to come
and pollen to transpose.
and, if careful, they'll admit
my own scent seeking nose
I think thorns serve their purpose well
else roses would be trampled
The thorns are roses' guardians
and not inconsequential.
Without a thorn, the rose, forlorn,
is destined for the ashes.
poem by John F. McCullagh
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The Hawthorn
BY the road, near her father’s dwelling,
There groweth a hawthorn tree:
Its blossoms are fair and fragrant
As the love that I cast from me.
It is all a-bloom this morning
In the sunny silentness,
And grows by the roadside, radiant
As a bride in her bridal dress.
But ah me! at sight of its blossoms
No pleasant memories start:
I see but the thorns beneath them—
And the thorns they pierce my heart.
poem by Victor James Daley
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Beedi-Rollers
Fate of the trend
Fate of the society
Fall of the populace
Chaste their lives no more
For they are so much chaste
Stooping to their consorts'wish
Allowing concubines of carcinogens
Malevolent males long so much for
Innocent wives ignorent
Hands when shaken unaware..
Cunning deed of carcinogens
Jinxing their skin to breath-mute
Devils nicotine, cotinine blood-fed
They roll the beedis to strike
Off the rolls their lives
Back to sathi have they gone
But to gain some bucks
Will you please be back sir,
Mr.Rajaram Mohan Roy..
poem by Indira Renganathan
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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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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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If That Is To Be My Experience
Please,
Do not remove the thorns from that rose.
I wish to experience every bit of it.
If I can not handle it and it should prick,
Let me be the obe to adjust to it.
I want to know what it is as it is.
Not what you wish me to believe,
To leave me to discover...
You decided to have me,
Think of it as something else.
Please,
Do not remove the thorns from that rose.
I've chosen it just the way it is...
Thorns and all.
I will never appreciate it,
If you make the decision...
To keep me from getting pricked.
If that is to be my experience...
Let it be.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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!
The red rose flower, asked god
The red rose flower
Asked god
You have given me
Beautiful look
Sweet fragrance
Eye catching color
Everybody likes me
However,
Why have you given?
Thorns to my plant
God replied
No one gets every thing
He wants
Even all my children
Are not nice
I gave thorns to
Your plant
To protect you from
Careless hands
You should be contented
With what you have
Always bear in mind
Other flowers on the earth
Do not have
Even half the qualities
You have
02-03-2012
280-15-03-12
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The optimist sees the rose and not its thorns the pessimist stares at the thorns, oblivious to the rose.
quote by Kahlil Gibran
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Crown Of Thorns
to go near you i put on some leaves
to hide the thorns
and you like the crown that pretends
to be the laurels of
my victory
then the truth has to come out
the leaves wilt and they finally fall to the floor
and i am left with this leafless vines
full of thorns
i make a crown of circular twigs
filled with thorns
now, watch me as i bleed
this is my truth this is my defeat
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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R..o..s..e
Remember when I would offer you a rose,
you would consider it as the precious gift of love,
When you would smell the rose and fondly smile,
I would be intoxicated with the sweet fragrance of your love.
On those dreary winter days when you would be away,
my heart would be lonely with the misery of separation,
I would feel the like rose bushes stranded in snow,
where all the leaves were parting one by one.
Somewhere in the tenderness and softness of the rose petals,
lies my delicate and innocent love,
sometimes the thorns pick and hurt,
sometime love is full of fear, sometimes it hurts.
Everlasting beauty of the rose remains in my heart,
even when the rose blossoms, fades and withers,
My love is immortal like rose,
which never dies in the heart as I love you so much.
poem by Jay P Narain
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My Rose Of Sharon
I was living in an empty desert with no meaning to my life,
Then one day I found this beautiful Rose of Sharon, who is the living Christ.
And this lovely Rose forever blooms;
Its sweet fragrance has filled all my rooms.
It has no thorns; they've all been taken away,
I know this Rose is here to stay.
It brightens all my days, and is my dearest friend.
On this never changing Rose I can trust and depend.
This divine Rose of Sharon is so perfect and fair,
And it brings me peace, and love, and joy beyond compare.
Such a calm content feeling it sends,
Each heartache and pain it always mends.
I know in this life perfection I will never attain,
But since this Rose has left it's fragrance on me, I have never been the same,
And as I share this fragrance with those in need I see,
This beautiful Rose of Sharon will bloom in me.
poem by Evelyn Locke Irvin
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If you enjoy the fragrance of a rose, you must accept the thorns which it bears.
quote by Isaac Hayes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The depraved
The chaste, the depraved and the whore:
The chaste one suffers from the sacrifices
Of pleasure and hence demand respect.
The depraved one indulges in secret
And yet retain the social status.
The whores suffer scorns and contempt
And take vengeance on women.
Pity the whore, admire the chaste
And ignore the depraved.
30.03.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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