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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
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
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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To Live With The Thorns
the roses learn to live
with their thorns, now they all recognize
them
as protection, from the hands of the
mad woman
cutting roses as offerings of her
nightmares,
why can't we learn too to live
with the thorns?
the pains and bitterness are in fact
our protectors too
from too much complacency
from the dangers of
familiarity.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Some people are always grumbling because roses have thorns; I am thankful that thorns have roses.
quote by Alphonse Karr
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Some people are always grumbling because roses have thorns. I am thankful that thorns have roses.
quote by Alphonse Karr
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You can complain because roses have thorns, or you can rejoice because thorns have roses.
Tom Wilson in Ziggy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Some people get angry because God put thorns on roses, while others praise him for putting roses among thorns.
Roses in the Valley
roses roses in the valley below
peaking up from the dead ground we know
one lil angle stands there crying
but not a single rose is dying
she tries to take flight with thorns in her wings
white is turning to deep deep red
red just like the roses she looks down upon
with thorns made red, and tears rolling down
the angel is dying with every tear that falls
the roses with petals of silk
shall catch the angel who's wings are no longer white as milk
now she lays down to stay
in a valley of roses that will live everyday
i am the angel
the angel that can no longer fly away
my dreams live on
like the roses, each and every day
poem by Sally Minns
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Eve
Eve I cant believe
That you could mean
What you just said
Think of what you are
How very far you are from being real
Look into the mirror
Nothing there to see
Eve I cant believe
Youd really leave him
(*) notice how her image saddens
How lonely shes become
Just once Id like to see her happy
Before the winter comes
Eve, I wouldnt lie
The open sky is not your home
Wide as it may be
Reality is here among the stones
Thorns among the roses
Add to what is real
Eve, you are a rose
Among the thorns here
Repeat (*)
I wish her only good times
Before the winter comes
song performed by by Carpenters
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Roses on the Earth
Roses on the Earth
Shameful work you are doing
Laughing and smiling still then.
You are floating in the sea of poverty and sorrows
still you have
no hesitation,
No tension,
And no worries.
Can you say me to secret of your smile?
We are in surprise.
People see you and have a pity on your fate.
But you are always away from
the luxury of the fate.
Your profession is garbage collection.
No body can enter easily in your profession except you.
I have seen Roses in the garden.
They are blooming with the thorns.
You are also smiling with unlimited sorrows and poverty
Even on the heap of the garbage
which is more painful than the thorns.
We can say them
“The Roses on the Earth”
poem by Vijay Gupta
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Kissed by a Rose
Kissed by a rose
With all the thorns
My eyes become large
And I can see a glow
I see you
Standing there by your grave
I walk slowly over to it
I kiss the rose
One more time
But my lips are cut
So my blood drips onto the rose
I plant the rose
On top of your grave
It blooms with red roses
Little droplets of blood
Dripping from the leaves
The light that you shine
Can be seen
You walk to the roses
And your light
Hits the blooms just right
I lay down on your grave
My power
My pleasure
My pain
I feel all of it
At the same time
Ive been kissed by a rose
On a grave
poem by Allison Unknown
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Crowned
You came to me bearing bright roses,
Red like the wine of your heart;
You twisted them into a garland
To set me aside from the mart.
Red roses to crown me your lover,
And I walked aureoled and apart.
Enslaved and encircled, I bore it,
Proud token of my gift to you.
The petals waned paler, and shriveled,
the thorns started through.
er thorns to proclaim me your lover,
A diadem woven with rue.
poem by Amy Lowell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Vanity Of The Creature Sanctified
Honey though the bee prepares,
An envenomed sting he wears;
Piercing thorns a guard compose
Round the fragrant blooming rose.
Where we think to find a sweet,
Oft a painful sting we meet:
When the rose invites our eye,
We forget the thorn is nigh.
Why are thus our hopes beguiled?
Why are all our pleasures spoiled?
Why do agony and woe
From our choicest comforts grow?
Sin has been the cause of all!
'Twas not thus before the fall:
What but pain, and thorn, and sting,
From the root of sin can spring?
Now with every good we find
Vanity and grief entwined;
What we feel, or what we fear,
All our joys embitter here.
Yet, through the Redeemer's love,
These afflictions blessings prove;
He the wounding stings and thorns,
Into healing med'cines turns.
From the earth our hearts they wean,
Teach us on his arm to lean;
Urge us to a throne of grace,
Make us seek a resting place.
In the mansions of our King
Sweets abound without a sting;
Thornless there the roses blow,
And the joys unmingled flow.
poem by John Newton
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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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!
We can complain because rose bushes have thorns, or rejoice because thorn bushes have roses.
quote by Abraham Lincoln
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Garden
If I saw you in a garden
amongst the roses there,
I would not see the roses
for they'd be too hard to bear.
Their petals not as soft as your eyes,
their thorns not as sharp as your wit,
their stems not as strong as my love
and I'd care not for any of it.
My intent in the garden
would be to inhale the aroma sweet
and have you let my senses quicken
and inflame me with the heat
of passion while we lingered
and pretended to see a rose
while every second all we'd know
is the beauty of how love grows.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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