Life - 1240 - Initial Version
Life comes and goes as fortune flows
It never knows what cause it sows
For cycle slows or speeds, and those
Effects wind blows truth seldom shows.
Like April snows regrets melt: rose
In May soon glows to blossom grows,
Fling sorrow's bows and arrows, woes
End now, and close Time's book, compose
Lines which oppose all sadness owes
In verse or prose no debt - transpose
Free soul which chose as joy arose.
Expose nor woes nor hope foreclose.
LIfe shadows swallows, overthrows,
FEels rose row grows for soul's repose.
(April 19 2005)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Life's Tides 1240 Current Version
Linked ebbs and flows, tides fortune blows,
It never knows what cause it sows
For cycle slows or speeds, and those
Effects winds chose truth seldom shows.
Like April snows regrets melt: rose
In May soon glows to blossom grows.
Fling sorrow's bows and sharp arrows,
Enjoy life 'til Time's pages close
Life which opposes sadness owes
In verse or prose no debt, transpose
Free soul cleansed whole as joy arose.
Expose no woes nor hope foreclose.
Life shadows swallows, overthrows,
Feels garden grows for heart's repose.
(11 January 2009)
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Rose Arose
Of all that nature’s garden grows
the fairest flower is the Rose,
bending to each breeze that blows.
Rose beauty, joy, together sows, -
‘Tis true, as everybody knows, -
inadequately penned in prose.
For from her crown all colour flows,
her petals pink or red she shows,
with white or amber, golden glows.
‘Tis said, or so the story goes,
her spiny thorns are elf arrows
to scare the sprites from the meadows.
In slumber see her heart enclose
bee’s happiness, in sweet repose,
unsullied by harsh winter snows.
Both dark and bright, white, virgin shows, -
the rose from Paradise arose,
and on Time's wing she blows, she blows.
poem by Jonathan Robin
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From All in All Tall to Not at All Small
I was stem, I was thorn, I was rose,
I was leaf, I was grief which arose
when you spurned me and burned me
and quite overturned me
to stimulate nectar's outflows.
Life was clement, I acorn which rose
through belief to be chief tree each knows,
who discerned me concerned me
and right from rite learned, to be
true to no counter-fate crows.
Don’t condemn, never mourn, if Death chose
like a thief no relief to propose,
little earn, no return, we
won’t haunt, daunt nor flaunt free
to simulate spectral hell_o[we]s!
I was wide open door naught could close!
I was stride more than pretty please pose!
Yet life's cycle's spun ugly,
bug so snug in a ruggly
now never may metamorphose!
I'm now mortgage bank seeks to foreclose
where I banked on love's loan to oppose
all 'alone' meant: untimely
rhyme to rime froze, I'm debris
discarded, heart trumped, lachrymose.
Oh how Time and Tide flow into woes!
wave goodbye to fond tie when sigh sows
rank betrayal: Luck, lovely,
turned to bitter, green envy,
Life never rains, pours, but, sore snows!
Was this limerick hard to compose?
Fiction, fantasy, fact tract? What shows?
Final verse lies behind me
mind reversing role blind, we
let reader unwind, com[m]a...toes
poem by Jonathan Robin
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A Woman Who Grew Into A Rose
(A Poem For 21st Century Women # 2)
(Prov.31: 10–31 / Prov.18: 22 / Matt.13: 10–15)
A Woman Who Grew
Into A Rose
Remains In GOD’s Garden
… and Grows
Her Heartbeats Blossoms
Opens To Disclose
The Prettiest, Feminine
Petals-Pose
A Woman Who Grows
Into A Rose
Her Fresh–Faith Fragrance
Wafts and Flows …
… into A Knowledge
Of Heaven–Scent
She Offers Her Keen
Spiritual–Sense …
(Prov.31: 26)
… which Intoxicates
A Wise Man’s Nose
with Each Blissful Breeze
… Benevolence Blows
(Prov.31: 11,12,28)
& A Woman Who’s Grown
Into A Rose
Stems To Sister Roses
Leaves of Sacred Prose
(Prov.31: 15)
Yes, There Are Lilies, Orchids
& Magnolia–Blooms
and Such Unique Flora
Has Their Trace–Perfume
… Lavenders, Gardenias
& Honeysuckle Aromas
Are Also Potent Enough
To Revive Fainting Comas
(Prov.31: 29)
But Many Wild Roses
In Many Rows & Rows
Are Limited In Layers
… No Cultivation Shows
For A Rose To Impress
Must Be Pruned & Dressed
& When Beautifully Blessed
Is Like A Flower–Empress! *
(Prov.31: 29,30)
& A Woman Who Grows
Into A Caring Rose
Is More Than An Ornament
With Ribbons & Bows …
_______________________
She Is A Woman Who Grows
Into A Rose
& Is Ready To Reap
What She Wisely Sows
& A Woman Who Grows
Into A Rose
Can Rest At Peace
In Sweet Repose
A Woman Who Grows
Into A Rose …
Away – Away! …
Pain Thorns She Throws
Away – Away! …
Her Fears Are Froze
‘Till GOD Will Crush
All Her Foes …
… A Rose Seed Was Buried
‘Till In Humility
The Rose Would Rise Up
In Grateful Modesty
So A Woman Who Grows
Into A Rose
Was Born To Believe
Resurrections’ Roles
Tho’ Other Flowers
Could Do – She Suppose
None Quite Spread Unfolded
… Like A Rose
… in Trust & Courage
& Edges Exposed
Yet Will Not Wilt
Because of Woes …
& Rivers & Rainstorms
& Mountain Streams
The Roots of The Rose
… Have Drank From These
But Twas’ Crystal Fountains
& One Drop of Christ’s Blood
Gave Deep Wells of Life
To Dark-Red Rosebud …
… The Rose – Arches True
To Shafts of Light
& Rises To Glory
In The Morning’s Might
A Woman Who Grows
Into A Rose
Revels In Soft Grass
Between Trail – Toes …
… while Reaching For Delights
and Bright Rainbows
She Is Ever GOD’s …
Dewy–Eyed Rose
… Yes, It Was GOD
Who Lovingly Chose
A Woman Like Me
As A Landscape-Rose
& A Woman Who Grows
Into A Godly Rose
In Moonlit-Gardens
Mercy–Miracles … Glows
(‘Till Everybody Knows
… She Is A Rose)
That GOD Looks After
… and Grows
Written & ©: 12/21/2011
By: The MoonBee
(A Woman Who Grew Into A Rose)
poem by MoonBee Canady
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Buy Me a Rose
Buy me a rose, Buy me a rose
Buy me sweet reasons to be forever close
Tender me with words propose
Wear my heart on your sleeves
for i am the rose you chose
Reveal your gentle pose
Make me your fair lady before chairs and doors
Buy me a rose, Buy me a rose
And out for a dozen for me he goes
Past mountain high and wild river flows
I must be i suppose
His romantic quest and cause
Buy me a rose, Buy me a rose
Venture deeper into me
make me eternally yours
Share with me the gift my belly grows
suddenly loving me his world not knows
And in to the distance sails as the new wind blows
Buy me a rose, Buy me a rose
Better yet maybe not
a precious one in me grows
poem by Wes Mbanje
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Rose’s rose rose
Rose’s rose rose
In the light of the day
While the wind blows
Round its flowers of the lightest rosé.
Rose’s rose rose
In a way Rose may
When she grows
As her rose
Shows
How it grows
And by the end of the day
When her rose’s flowers’d close
And its head would sway
In the wind, Rose would say:
“My rose, as you rose
In the light of the day
Did you notice those,
The sounds of your stay?
Not only those of the day,
But, too, the ones of the dark, rose,
The ones of the dark and the moon in its pose.
Did you notice those, rose?
Did you notice those? ”
And the rose would know
What Rose would want to say
And it would sleep
With its flowers of the lightest rosé.
I can EMIT TIME
'I Can! ' EMIT TIME
Kindly Refer to Notes
.
.
This retourne shows how Time bright glows,
Inspiring plan Life offers man,
Maintains red rose, sustains verse, prose,
Egg, chicken, span, - ensure ‘I can! ’
TIME’s sum’s not dumb, repeating drum
Inspiring plan Life offers man,
May link ‘become’ through rule of thumb
EMIT true scan light once began.
The heart that sows is star that glows
In tune reel ran fed through rhyme’s fan,
Maintains red rose, sustains verse, prose,
Ends in well ran, begins “I can! ”
Time’s reel ebbs, flows, all comes and goes,
In caravan reversing scan
Much magic flows, touch insight knows,
Egg, chicken, span, - ensure ‘I can! ’
.
Egg, chicken, span, - ensure ‘I can! ’
Much magic flows, touch insight knows,
In caravan reversing scan, -
Time’s reel ebbs, flows, all comes and goes.
Ends in well ran, begins “I can! ”
Maintains red rose, sustains verse, prose,
In tune reel ran fed through rhyme’s fan, -
The heart that sows is star that glows.
EMIT true scan: light, once began,
May link, ‘become’ through rule of thumb,
Inspiring plan Life offers man.
TIME’s sum’s not dumb, repeating drum.
Egg, chicken, span, - ensure ‘I can! ’
Maintains red rose, sustains verse, prose,
Inspiring plan Life offers man.
This retourne shows how Time bright glows.
_________________________________
How Time bright glows This retourne shows.
Life offers man Inspiring plan,
sustains verse, prose, Maintains red rose.
Ensure ‘I can! ’ Egg, chicken, span.
Repeating drum, TIME’s sum’s not dumb,
Life offers man Inspiring plan
through rule of thumb, May link ‘become’,
light once began, EMIT true scan.
Is star that glows The heart that sows?
Fed through rhyme’s fan, In tune reel ran
sustains verse, prose, Maintains red rose,
begins “I can! ” Ends in well ran,
all comes and goes, Time’s reel ebbs, flows.
reversing scan In caravan, -
touch insight knows Much magic flows
Ensure ‘I can! ’ Egg, chicken, span.
Ensure ‘I can! ’ Egg, chicken, span,
touch insight knows. Much magic flows
reversing scan In caravan, -
all comes and goes, Time’s reel ebbs, flows.
Begins “I can! ” Ends in well ran,
sustains verse, prose, Maintains red rose
fed through rhyme’s fan, In tune reel ran -
is star that glows The heart that sows?
Light, once began, EMIT true scan
through rule of thumb. May link, ‘become’!
Life offers man Inspiring plan.
Repeating drum, TIME’s sum’s not dumb
Ensure ‘I can! ’ Egg, chicken, span
sustains verse, prose, Maintains red rose,
Life offers man Inspiring plan.
How Time bright glows This retourne shows.
© Jonathan Robin acrostic mirror retourne 3 February 2007
_______________
Author notes
Although this is shown as a double mirrored retourne the poem has been framed so as to alternate each and every line within any given stanza... although only in four cases can the acrostic palindrome EMIT TIME run throughout.
The Mirror effect enables the poem to be read top down TIME or bottom up EMIT - The Retourne is of course only mirrored in the mirror if one reads bottom up.
This offers a possibility of 4 x 4 x 12 x 64 combinations
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Decisions
DECISIONS
When choice, once clear, uncertain grows,
when confidence is in the throes
of conflict as the hands of fate
turn counter-clockwise, retrograde,
decisions must be made.
As lost hands may not be replayed
act, don’t delay, and fears may fade,
so plan ahead, anticipate
life’s pattern to its ebbs and flows
key in, diverting current woes.
When doubt, once abstract, shadows throws
to dim the spirit’s inner flows,
the mind must not procrastinate,
though expectations seem betrayed
where visibility has greyed.
Decisions must in time be made.
Tomorrowrs no safe barricade!
As rates of Change accelerate
Chance cannot, even if it chose,
avert Time’s arrows, flighty b[l]ows.
No door remains forever closed.
Internal or external foes
undermine the strongest state.
Initiative displayed
may turn the sharpest blade.
Decisions, if delayed,
beyond all reason Reason trade
for self destruction, - taken late
may compromise, harm, or foreclose
free choice, voice suffocate.
22 June 2005
robi03_1283_robi03_0000 XXX_EJX
© Jonathan Robin
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Blossom
Without anyone to love you
What will you blossom into?
Without anyone to hold you
How will you grow?
And in the Wildwood trees
The wild wind blows
And the nighttime crushes the hurricane rose
And with no one to care for you
Who knows
Blossom for me rose
You're the picture of my love
Blossom for me rose
Stretch out underneath the stars
And when tomorrow comes
I will hold you up
Little blossom, shining in the sun
Without any place to go to
How will your soul return to
Without anyone to keep you
Where will you go
And in the shadows of the past
Where you're spinning so fast
It's hard to see it coming
And it never lasts
And with nothing to judge your life by
How will you know
Blossom for me rose
You're the picture of my life
Blossom for me rose
Stretch out underneath the stars
And when tomorrow comes
I will hold you up
Little blossom, shining in the sun
Without anyone to love you
What will you blossom into
Without anyone to hold you
How will you grow
song performed by by Ryan Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Song (#2)
THOU art the soul of a summer's day,
Thou art the breath of the rose.
But the summer is fled
And the rose is dead
Where are they gone, who knows, who knows?
Thou art the blood of my heart o' hearts,
Thou art my soul's repose,
But my heart grows numb
And my soul is dumb
Where art thou, love, who knows, who knows?
Thou art the hope of my after years —
Sun for my winter snows
But the years go by
'Neath a clouded sky.
Where shall we meet, who knows, who knows?
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Confidence - 1232 - Initial Version
Now heart heart follows, head held high
regrets melt where heartfelt fair tune,
plays tune true morrows passing by
through confidence which grows, will soon
speed rainbows' [m]arch through cloudy sky.
Free spirit soars as now ballon
may from uncoloured earth and dry -
which morning, night and afternoon
emotions often would deny -
lets go, sounds soul at liberty,
horizons flow for future free...
(17 April 2005)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Spanish Harlem
There is a rose in spanish harlem
A rose that grows in spanish harlem
Its never seen the sun
It only comes up when the moon is on the run
And all the stars are leaving
Well, it grows right in the street
Up between the concrete
But soft and sweet, and (breathing? ? )
There is a rose in spanish harlem
A rose that grows in spanish harlem
Oh, with eyes as black as coal
That reach down in my soul
And start a fire I cant control
I beg your pardon
Well, I want to pick that rose
And watch her as she grows
In my garden
There is a rose in spanish harlem
There is a rose in spanish harlem
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Ocean Rose (An Homograph/Homonym Poem) ...
The Ocean Rose
Scent Of The Sea
Brisk Blue-Green Perfume
Of Serenity
The Ocean Rose
Blossomed Open
Drowned Its Hook-Thorns
To Let Hope In
The Ocean Rose
Within A Vase
Of Exquisite, Exotic
Deep Seabed Base
The Ocean Rose
Sat Like A Prize On
A Jeweled Box
Below A Horizon
The Ocean Rose
To Touch The Sky
Drunk The Tears
That Seagulls Cry
Beyond Our Reach
Below Our Nose
But Before Our Eyes
The Ocean Rose
The Ocean Rose
By Sunset Glows
And Thru Storms and Rains
It Thrives and Grows
So Far Away
Yet Ever Close
It’s Petals Pour
And Stems and Flows
The Ocean Rose
Beneath Rainbows
in Rows After Rows
Its Beauty Shows
Written & ©: 10/5/10
By: The MoonBee
HOMOGRAPHS are words that are spelled the same but have different meanings.
HOMONYMS are words that sound alike but have different meanings.
poem by MoonBee Canady
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Bleeding Rose
her beauty flourished watching her grow
but time has taken it’s toll
dead silence grows for the bleeding rose
yet a piece of her is left in my soul
a symbol of love that I should know
bleeding rose is just a blur
for the bleeding rose, dead silence grows
left in my soul is a piece of her
symbol of love where petals aglow
so time has passed as a blink
dead silence grows for the bleeding rose
gone is the rose as it makes me think
the sight of the rose breeds thoughts of you
knowing your soul is now dead
for the bleeding rose, dead silence grows
now you're gone as the rose was once red
Author notes:
ZaniLa Rhyme
The ZaniLa Rhyme, a form created by Laura Lamarca, consists 4 lines per stanza. The rhyme scheme for this form is abcb and a syllable count of 9/7/9/9 per stanza. Line 3 contains internal rhyme and is repeated in each odd numbered stanza. Even stanzas contain the same line but swapped. The ZaniLa Rhyme has a minimum of 3 stanzas and no maximum poem length.
poem by Amera Andersen
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To F
Beloved! amid the earnest woes
That crowd around my earthly path-
(Drear path, alas! where grows
Not even one lonely rose)-
My soul at least a solace hath
In dreams of thee, and therein knows
An Eden of bland repose.
And thus thy memory is to me
Like some enchanted far-off isle
In some tumultuous sea-
Some ocean throbbing far and free
With storms- but where meanwhile
Serenest skies continually
Just o'er that one bright island smile.
poem by Edgar Allan Poe
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To Louise
OH, the poets may sing of their Lady Irenes,
And may rave in their rhymes about wonderful queens;
But I throw my poetical wings to the breeze,
And soar in a song to my Lady Louise.
A sweet little maid, who is dearer, I ween,
Than any fair duchess, or even a queen.
When speaking of her I can't plod in my prose,
For she's the wee lassie who gave me a rose.
Since poets, from seeing a lady's lip curled,
Have written fair verse that has sweetened the world;
Why, then, should not I give the space of an hour
To making a song in return for a flower?
I have found in my life — it has not been so long —
There are too few of flowers — too little of song.
So out of that blossom, this lay of mine grows,
For the dear little lady who gave me the rose.
I thank God for innocence, dearer than Art,
That lights on a by-way which leads to the heart,
And led by an impulse no less than divine,
Walks into the temple and sits at the shrine.
I would rather pluck daisies that grow in the wild,
Or take one simple rose from the hand of a child,
Than to breathe the rich fragrance of flowers that bide
In the gardens of luxury, passion, and pride.
I know not, my wee one, how came you to know
Which way to my heart was the right way to go;
Unless in your purity, soul-clean and dear,
God whispers his messages into your ear.
You have now had my song, let me end with a prayer
That your life may be always sweet, happy, and fair;
That your joys may be many, and absent your woes,
O dear little lady who gave me the rose!
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Life In Her Creaking Shoes
Life in her creaking shoes
Goes, and more formal grows,
A round of calls and cues:
Love blows as the wind blows.
Blows! . . . in the quiet close
As in the roaring mart,
By ways no mortal knows
Love blows into the heart.
The stars some cadence use,
Forthright the river flows,
In order fall the dews,
Love blows as the wind blows:
Blows! . . . and what reckoning shows
The courses of his chart?
A spirit that comes and goes,
Love blows into the heart.
poem by William Ernest Henley
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April Sonnet
This April passes by me like the wind
New troubles rise as tension slowly grows
Despair has come and seems to have no end
For many fools have greatly brought new woes
But to my true friends did I quickly turn
They found for me my hidden days of joy
For even fools themselves will one day learn
They can not play with me for I’m no toy
Even in the midst of my confusion
At last I found new joy in her sweet eyes
Though again t’was bitter sweet illusion
And once again another white dove cries
To a dying April, follows May’s birth
With hope may May bring back some joy to earth
poem by Benjamin A. Wellman
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Laughing Rose
If I were gusty April now,
How I would blow at laughing Rose;
I'd make her ribbons slip their knots,
And all her hair come loose.
If I were merry April now,
How I would pelt her cheeks with showers;
I'd make carnations, rich and warm,
Of her vermillion flowers.
Since she will laugh in April's face
No matter how he rains or blows --
Then O that I wild April were,
To play with laughing Rose.
poem by William Henry Davies
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A Rose For Me
Oh little worm
stay away from my rose.
Find somewhere else
to bring your woes.
My rose has petals
not made for you.
My rose grows beautifully
for me to view.
My rose wants to live
to bring me joy,
never for a worm
to come and destroy.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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