Related quotes: Oh, what avails a pretty...

Ambiguity Arose - after Rose Aylmer Walter Savage LANDOR

Oh, what avails a pretty face
with beauty creams besprinkled,
for Father Time wins every race,
soon age Life’s page has wrinkled.

Where is the flush, the lush embrace,
starred eyes that carefree twinkled?
Night draws its shutters, leaves no trace
of light, save mem’ries sinkled.

Oh, What avails a pretty face,
and voice divinely tinkled,
if all behind be ugly, base,
with mind both blind and wrinkled?

Some say unique is every case,
eyes amber, periwinkled,
yet all too soon return to base,
AND DNA's ash sprinkled.

Oh, What avails a pretty face,
bright eye sublimely crinkled,
each must a double lie encase
life left confirms this inkle!

© Jonathan Robin – robi3_0313 parody written 17 December 1991 revised 14 May 2007 and 31 October 2008 Parody Walter Savage LANDOR 1775_1864 Rose Aylmer for previous versions - title Rose Aylmer's Cousin - see below

Rose Aylmer's Cousin

Oh, what avails a pretty face
with beauty creams besprinkled,
as Father Time wins every race,
soon age Life’s page has wrinkled.

Where is the flush, the lush embrace,
starred eyes that carefree twinkled?
Night draws its shutters, leaves no trace
of light, save mem’ries sinkled.

Oh, What avails a pretty face,
and voice dIvinely tinkled,
if all behind be ugly, base,
with mind both blind and wrinkled?

Oh, What avails a pretty face,
and eye sublimely crinkled,
should it a double lie encase
and life confirm this inkle? ...

Rose Aylmer's Cousin

Oh, what avails a pretty face
with beauty creams besprinkled,
for Father Time wins every race,
soon age Life’s page has wrinkled.

The flush once full that did embrace,
those eyes that carefree twinkled,
Night pulls its shutters, leaves no trace
of light, save mem’ries crinkled.

Rose Aylmer

Ah, what avails the sceptred race!
Ah, what the form divine!
What every virtue, every grace!
Rose Aylmer, all were thine.

Rose Aylmer, whom these wakeful eyes
May weep, but never see,
A night of memories and signs
I consecrate to thee.

Walter Savage LANDOR 1775_1864

Related quotes

Rose Aylmer

Ah what avails the sceptred race,
Ah what the form divine!
What every virtue, every grace!
Rose Aylmer, all were thine.
Rose Aylmer, whom these wakeful eyes
May weep, but never see,
A night of memories and of sighs
I consecrate to thee.

poem by Walter Savage Landor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rose Aylmer

Ah, what avails the sceptred race!
Ah, what the form divine!
What every virtue, every grace!
Rose Aylmer, all were thine.

Rose Aylmer, whom these wakeful eyes
May weep, but never see,
A night of memories and sighs
I consecrate to thee.

poem by Walter Savage Landor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Just One Rose...

that's a homework i need you to tell me if i should hand it to the teacher or not...(:

just one rose, a pretty rose...
just one rose for me with no coze...
just one rose pure and true...
just one rose for me is all i can do...

just one rose somewhere out there...
just one rose for me to care...
just one rose when dark days prevail...
just one rose when people only use petrail...

just one rose and all the time...
just one rosefor me is a crime...

poem by rose of death XxX
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The Three Roses

When the buds began to burst,
Long ago, with Rose the First
I was walking; joyous then
Far above all other men,
Till before us up there stood
Britonferry's oaken wood,
Whispering, "Happy as thou art,
Happiness and thou must part."
Many summers have gone by
Since a Second Rose and I
(Rose from the same stem) have told
This and other tales of old.
She upon her wedding day
Carried home my tenderest lay:
From her lap I now have heard
Gleeful, chirping, Rose the Third.
Not for her this hand of mine
Rhyme with nuptial wreath shall twine;
Cold and torpid it must lie,
Mute the tongue, and closed the eye.

poem by Walter Savage Landor
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Pretty Pink Rose

Shes just been to russia and theyre dying their faces
Theyre dying over there
A pretty pink rose
That rnr lady takes a space-ship ride shes out of this world
A pretty pink rose
And were living for you my love, were living for you
And were dying for you my love
Pretty pink rose
She tore down paris on the tall of thom paine
But the left wings broken the right insane
A pretty pink rose
Have a nice day, its a killer, turn a cheek
Its a christian code
A pretty pink rose
And were living for you my love, were living for you
And were dying for you my love
Pretty pink rose
Shes the poor mans gold shes the anarchist crucible
Flying in the face of the despot cannible
Shes a pretty pink rose
Never let it rain, never let it rain on the heart of the pretty pink rose
Pretty pink rose
And were living for you my love, were living for you
And were dying for you my love, pretty pink rose
Get me thru the pain, thru the pain of the thorn on the pretty pink rose
Never let it rain, never rain never rain, the pretty pink rose
Take me to the heart, to the heart, to the heart, of the pretty pink rose
Take me to the heart, to the heart, to the heart
Take me to the heart, to the heart, to the heart, of the pretty pink rose
Take me to the heart, to the heart, to the heart
Take me to the heart, to the heart, to the heart,, of the pretty pink rose
Take me to the heart, to the heart, to the heart

song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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First rose

A heart of youthful year was yearning,
Crying out the pain; the burning
Tears would e’er remain until
An answer from the man would see them die.

A sympathetic mirror blessed her –
Softened up the curves, caressed her
Skin to help regain a calm –
Assuage a heaving breast and blushing eye.

And through a struggling mind, a chiming:
Someone at the door; the timing
Perfect and exquisite in the
Reconciliation of her woes.

She took the oak to make the parting,
‘Here! ’ a presentation startling.
Drawing deep through radiant lips, she
Kissed her very dream: a crimson rose.

rose rose rose rose: : rose rose rose rose
rose rose rose rose: : rose rose rose rose
rose rose rose rose: : rose rose rose rose
rose rose rose rose: : rose rose rose rose

poem by Mark R Slaughter
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A Wayward Rose

Mischievous rose from the rose-tree swaying,
Can I not bind thee nor hold thee?
Can I not weave thee nor fold thee
In with thy sisters to staying?
Vain is my passion or praying,
Rose from the rose-tree swaying.
Wayward sweet rose from the rose-tree swinging,
Can I not pass thee, forget thee?
Can I not see to regret thee?
In—'mid thy kindred's close ringing,
Out—to my heart she comes winging,
Rose from the rose-tree swinging.
Cruel red rose from the rose-tree swaying,
Ever to worship thee, throne thee,
Never to lose thee or own thee,
Thy beauty to keep me from straying,
Thy thorns for my passionate praying,
Rose from the rose-tree swaying.

poem by Dora Sigerson Shorter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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How do I parody? after Elizabeth Barrett Browning Sonnet XLIII How do I love thee?

How Do I Parody?

How true I parody! Let me count the ways.
I parody in depth, taste copy paste insight
My mind can reach into your writing quite
Through APing Ways and Means, through rhyme’s mainstays.
I parody to the level of everyday's
post hosting feed, by sun, electric light.
In vers libres freely, sonnet set to right;
I pastiche purely, rarely spurning praise.
Reparody with passion put to use
through griefs, beliefs, rehearsed, though wanting faith.
I parody love’s theme, who dreams accuse.
Newfangled paints b[l]end colour bending brea[d]th,
Smiles, tears, [p]rune poem’s life! - and, if judge choose,
gold goblets garner, googled after death.

Parody Elizabeth Barrett Browning Sonnet XLIII How Do I Love Thee

12 February 2007 revised 10 June 2008 and 30 September 2009
for previous versions see below robi3_1323_brow7_0001 PSX_IXX

________________

How do I Parody?

How do I parody? Let me count the ways.
I parody in depth, with taste and with insight,
my mind may reach into your writing quite
through APing Ways and Means, through rhyme’s mainstays.
I parody to the level of everyday's
intimate grace, by sun, electric light.
in vers libres freely, sonnet set to right.
I pastiche purely, rarely turn from Praise,
reparody with passion put to use
through your old griefs, beliefs, though wanting faith.
I parody with love I’d never lose,
use paints newfangled, shading E.B.B.ing breath,
still showing your life's smiles, tears, for, should judge choose,
my golden goblet fame lives loved past death.

Parody Elizabeth Barrett Browning Sonnet XLIII How Do I Love Thee
[c] Jonathan Robin - 2 February 2007 revised 10 June 2008 robi3_1611_brow7_0001 PSX_IXX for previous version see below
_____________

Parody Elizabeth Barrett Browning Sonnet XLIII How Do I Love Thee
[c] Jonathan Robin - 2 February 2007 robi3_1611_brow7_0001 PSX_IXX for previous version see below

Sonnet XLIII

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints, - I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life! - and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

Elisabeth Barrett BROWNING 1806_1861

poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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One Rose

Rose
One Rose
Two Rose
Twelve Rose
One for each bruise

One Rose
Two Rose
Twelve Rose
One for each time you cheated

One Rose
Two Rose
Twelve Rose
One for each time you forced me

One Rose
Two Rose
Twelve Rose
One for each pointless arguement

One Rose
Two Rose
Twelve Rose
One for each crime

One Rose
Two Rose
Twelve Rose
One for each time you try to end me

One Rose
Two Rose
Twelve Rose
How many more can I live through?

poem by Lexie Night
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Requiem I - Parody Robert Louis STEVENSON - Requiem

Through the artificial flowers
let me slide when all my powers
have passed as pass man’s mortal hours,
and let me burn.

Spurn graven verses for my head,
spade not the body laid, instead,
as I’ll no longer look ahead
book me no urn.

robi03_0795_stev02_0001 PXX_DIZ

Requiem II

From life's dark, unwholesome cage
where love frets, siege raised in rage,
set free who sad lived, glad the page
turns uniting night to day.

Crave no rave elegy to test
verse prowess, - without protest
here actor lies in heart arrest
retractions over his clay.

© Jonathan Robin – written 2 December 1995 Parody Robert Louis STEVENSON - Requiem revised 25 December 2009
robi03_0796_stev02_0001 PXX_DIZ
for previous version see below

Requiem II

In a dark, unwholesome cage
let me fret and seethe in rage,
sadly I’ve lived and glad the page
turns uniting night and day.

Rave no crude elegy to test
verse prowess, - without protest
here lies life’s actor under arrest
with a tractor over his clay.

Under the wide and starry sky
Dig the grave and let me lie:
Glad did I live and gladly die
And I laid me down with a will.

This be the verse you grave for me
Here he lies where he long’d to be
Home is the sailor, home from the sea,
And the hunter home from the hill.

Robert Louis Stevenson 1850 - 1894

Requiem

Under the free and open sky,
There let me rest, nor breathe a sigh, -
Gladly I’ve lived, and gladly I’ll lie,
Content by night and day.

Grave no rude tombstone to mark my rest;
But deep in your soul may you say with zest;
“Here is the Seeker after his Quest,
And the Actor after the Play.”

Hamish Mann 1896 – 1917 A Subaltern’s Musings: 1918

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Still A Rose

A rose is a rose every day, every night
You too are the same, except different in my sight

You are like a rose, such a beautiful creation
But a rose in disguise, meant to blume for every nation

So show your beauty, for I know what you are
You are a rose in disguise, and very, very wise

A rose is a rose is a rose.....

poem by Pearl Adaeze Okafor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Rose In Disguise

A rose is a rose every day, every night
You too are the same, except different in my sight

You are like a rose, such a beautiful creation
But a rose in disguise, meant to blume for every nation

So show your beauty, for I know what you are
You are a rose in disguise, and very, very wise

A rose is a rose is a rose.....

poem by Sarah Mellberg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Red Rose And White

A RED rose climbed to the casement;
Cried, 'Open to me!
My cry is the call of the passing years,
I ask for love and the dew of tears
Withheld by thee.'

I broke the rose at the casement;
Cried, 'Welcome to thee.'
Ah, red rose dead! but I could not know
That only the pale white rose would blow
On earth for me.

poem by Philip Henry Savage
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Dying Rose

A Dying Rose
By: Adam M. Snow

Helplessly I wait upon the hour, drawing closely;
I, myself ponder tremendously.
Do my eyes deceive what once was a rose?
And by that, does it be a rose no longer?
I speak to be heard once more,
and once more to be heard by that rose.
But I cannot see that of the beauty of her face,
yet her eyes glances swiftly beyond my essence.
Could it be? Oh could it be,
that my essence is enough to guide thee?
I am but one in groups of many,
she sees not I but one in twenty.
She is that of a dying rose,
shedding that of blackened petals;
a black rose, I say so myself.
Doomed by what the world gave to thee;
a single tear drop, which falls and taints the ground.
And by that passing hour; she, herself would wilt away.

poem by Adam M. Snow
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I Bought You A Rose

the problem is
the grandfather clock
in the adjacent room
it chimes
on the hour
every hour
through the night
it keeps me awake
through the night
the night in which
i think of you
because
i hold the rose
in my hand
through the night
the rose that i bought you
in the afternoon
the rose that you did not want
in the evening
the evening when i took you out
and you said
you did not want the rose
you wanted it to be over between us
you said it was no use
a rose was no use
a rose could not
bring us together
a rose could not
keep us together
a rose by any other name
is still just a rose
you said
i should keep my rose
you said
you said it when i offered you the rose
you said it again
when the evening was over
when we left each other
and so i took it home
the rose that i bought you
i thought of you
on my way home
with the rose
i thought of how it had been
between us
i thought of how it might have been
between us
i tried to forget
how it had been
between us
i tried to forget
how it might have been
between us
but the rose reminded me
how it was
between us
i took the rose with me
when i got into bed
when i tried to sleep
it had been deep red
but it seemed to me
now it was not so deep red
as it had been before
each time i woke
i looked at the rose
each time it seemed
not so deep red
as it had been before
each time it seemed
a little more faded
a little more dry
a little less red
a little less fresh
each time
its scent also
had been beautiful
like you were beautiful
its scent also seemed to me
a little more faded
a little less fresh
a little less beautiful
a little less able
to evoke you
a little less able
to keep you
to keep your memory
alive
alive in the night
even when i turned on the light
to look again
at the rose
to inhale again
the perfume of the rose
i saw it fading
i saw you fading
i saw your beauty fading
through the night
and i saw that you were right
about the rose
that a rose is just a rose
that a rose could not
bring us together
that a rose could not
keep us together
that a rose by any other name
is still just a rose
that you by any other name
are still just a rose
fading through the night
i cannot keep you
for i cannot keep you
from fading through the night
like this rose i bought you
like any rose
like anything i ever bought you

the problem is
the grandfather clock
in the adjacent room
it chimes
on the hour
every hour
through the night

poem by Rory Hudson
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Collective Chrysalis

Before tired tocsin tolls, notes final dawn
objections bowls to smithereens, blasts corn,
beauty need know no double face,
ambiguity's about-face.
Beholder and beholden lace
together love in love's embrace
each beat completes sweet other's pace.

Be forward, ward off wardens, trough or storm,
accounts drawn, love withdrawn or jealous scorn.
Base all on sharing, never base,
replace conformist time and place
with acceptance and erase
all pettiness too commonplace
that mars, that bars true state of grace.

Before last keynote speech leaves pages torn,
reach out, life's rose shows scent's well worth time's thorn.
There's neither chaser, chaste disgraced,
comparisons to draw, changed taste.
Fulfillment never runs to waste.
Collective chrysalis encased
in love's state states case for fresh trace.

for previous version entitled Lids Can Open 20050322 see below

Lids Can Open
After midnight tolls, before the dawn
insight objections bowls, won't be foresworn
beauty knows no double face
beholder and beholden trace
together love in love's embrace
where each heart charts the other's pace.
Drop keynote speech, leave pages torn,
reach out, out reach, rose needs no thorn,
there is no chaser and no chase
there's no disgrace but only grace
and one shared chrysalid in case
the lid can open, fears erase.

(30 December 2008)

poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rose, Rose(by Henrry Zhou)

Rose, Rose
Love you, without words.
When I touch your waist,
Close to your lips.

Rose, Rose
Kisses are what you send to me.
Endless mythical dream
Every kiss seems to be

Rose, rose
Aren’t you the waves of the red wine
Of the first night in a wedding?
In your soft heart
slipped the lovers’ laughs and tears.

Love you, Rose
Light vortex, pink whorls
full of a garden I wish to plant Roses
Even waking to be a sad nightmare
Still I will hold you.
O, Rose, my dear Rose

poem by Henrry Zhou
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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One Rose

one rose for the day i met you
one rose for ever i loved you
50 roses today.you would be 50
i am 51 a rose is a simbol of love
compasion and most of all beauty
the most beautiful flower ever
but it couldent compare to my love for you
your eyes are as blue
as the sea.your cheeks tan from
the summers glow.the sight of you make my
face go red.you are gone but you will
never be forgotten my love for you
grows every day one rose at a time

poem by Sandra Geisell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Parody

Parody in playful way displays
Appropriation of intents, sense, form,
Reversing roles while wearing uniform,
Or, ‘armed against a sea of troubles’ weighs
Defiance ‘gainst a double’s narrow gaze
Yet inner truth respects whatever norm
Perpetuates crowd loud whose rowdy storm
As waves upon life’s sea Time must erase.
Replay, revision, rhythmic interplays,
Original outshines, - wise words transform
Dull into fun, blind minds undone, cold, warm,
Yet still informing, never still each phrase.
Post scriptum’s rhyming couplet we adjoin
So Parody should never sign ‘purloin’!

[c) Jonathan Robin robi3_1299 acrostic sonnet written 25 January 2007

poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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En.Citatepedia®.ro

Ambiguity Arose - after Rose Aylmer Walter Savage LANDOR

Related quotes

Rose Aylmer

Rose Aylmer

Just One Rose...

The Three Roses

Pretty Pink Rose

First rose

A Wayward Rose

How do I parody? after Elizabeth Barrett Browning Sonnet XLIII How do I love thee?

One Rose

A Red Rose for You

Requiem I - Parody Robert Louis STEVENSON - Requiem

Still A Rose

A Rose In Disguise

The Red Rose And White

A Dying Rose

I Bought You A Rose

Collective Chrysalis

Rose, Rose(by Henrry Zhou)

One Rose

Parody

En.Citatepedia^®.ro