I Was Told You Are Indeed A Rose
Even though I was told,
You are indeed a Rose.
I still could not tell from the scent,
Since I suffer from a recent bad head cold.
Something suddenly has happened,
To convince me of this.
And you can be quite different,
Not so detected as a Daffodil.
I can tell the Tulip from a distance.
Or a Carnation on a suit lapel,
Without getting close to sniff it.
But you 'they' say,
Are a Rose to uphold.
And I can't tell if that is true.
Since my nose is blocked.
And getting near to you...
Waters my eyes,
And keeps them closed.
Whatever that is you've got...
Makes me sneeze a lot!
I wanted to get a dozen of you,
To splurge.
But I think I am allergic.
And that has prevent my urge.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Pick Me Up
There are too many roses down on the ground
There are too many people throwing them around
Every rose has a value unbound
So would you please pick them up from the ground?
There are too many people staring at the moon
And many forget when the roses will bloom
And when they do they'll be treated so rude
And they're sweet smell turns to no value
A rose is a wonderful thing to hold
It has a scent so sweet to the nose
It's filled with love and kindness so deep
But we don't appreciate a thing so sweet
Until it's gone and we're left all alone
Searching for one but they're already gone
It's like when too many people start cursing the rain
Waiting by the window and begging in vain
That the rain should come another day
While the rose savors the rain
Knowing that soon it will go away
But never knowing when it will come again
I said it before and I'll say it again
There are too many roses being thrown away
Broken in spirit and wasting away
But I see a few being treated as they deserve
Smelt with well closed eyes to savor it well
Appreciate a well colored rose
It has a scent so sweet to the nose
You'll never know when the rain comes no more
You never know when the roses won't grow
So throw them away and treat them so cold
You'll never find them when you need them the most.
poem by Hafeni Nghidinua
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Dozen Roses
A dozen roses I give to you my friend
A gift that seems so small
But they represent so much
Our friendship most of all.
A rose for the friendship
A rose for the touch
A rose for the trust we share
Our sharing means so much.
A rose for the kindness
And the deep caring you show
A rose for the comfort given
When I've been feeling low.
A rose for the laughter
How it makes your eyes shine
A rose for the dreams we share
It's amazing how they intertwine.
A rose for the deep respect
You give to me with ease
A rose for the love we feel
And how you wish to please.
A rose for your compassion
That has helped me in so many ways
A rose for bringing me sunshine
That has brightened all my days.
The last rose is the best
For it stands so proud and tall
This rose represents you
My best friend of all.
poem by Joyce Regna
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Histrionics
-Albert Parsons
went to his death
singing Annie Laurie;
didn't another have
a rose in his coat-
or was it a pink-
dramatizing himself-
Blooded rose
stalk
hanging out of an empty
coat lapel,
or was it a pink carnation
rose color soft as sunrise
glimmering upon a gallows,
and streak of silver song
ravelled with the rain
on a filthy Chicago morning in the Eighties-
you shall outlast horizons.
poem by Lola Ridge
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A dozen Roses
A dozen Roses I give you my friend A gift that seems smal but its represents so much Our friendship most of all
A rose for friendship
A rose for touch
A rose for the touch we sgare our sharing means so much
A rose for kindness and the deep caring you show
A rose for the comfort your given when I've Been low.
A rose for the laughter how its makes your eyes shine.
for the dreams we share Its amazing how they intertwine.
A rose for the deep respect you give me with ease
A rose for the love we share and Now you wish to please.
A Rose for your compassion that has helped me in so many ways
A Rose for the sunshine you bring to me to make my days so bright
poem by Taylor owens
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Rose Intoxication!
Queen of flowers rose is always a fascination!
Rose is symbol of passionate love cheers mood!
Rose lady gives great pride to be with anywhere!
Special respect to rose never changes anywhere;
Red rose, pink rose and even blue rose are there
Occupying a pride of place none can have ever!
Bouquet of rose flowers elates anyone to dizziness!
A special gift indeed rose flowers makes to all!
A single rose is enough to make one grand to look
Instead of a big cluster of flowers of jasmine or lily!
Scent of rose remains fresh in mind wherever one is;
Such a unique flower rose how can anyone ignore
Whether it is in the garden or lies on a wayward side!
Now after seeing rose and read on rose I am intoxicated..!
poem by Ramesh T A
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Subtleness That Fits
Who am I to say...
A displayed rose,
Is not conceited!
With a slow blooming,
Showing to reveal...
Its appeal is very exquisite.
There is a subtleness that fits,
An elusive delicateness...
One either bends down to it,
Or select it to pick...
To sniff unresisting.
To say that a rose,
By another name chosen...
Would still be that rose?
That I do not know.
Although a rose conceited or not,
Leaves a fragrance...
Not easily forgotten.
By a nose left impressed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Rose For A Rose
A rose for a rose
That is all that I can say,
As I present, the flower to you.
You can look upon its beauty
As I have looked upon yours,
Now you know the turmoil I go through.
As the beauty of the rose,
I thought it second to none,
Until that day that we met.
Now to me the rose is just a flower,
And its aroma is but a scent,
And raindrops, are tears I have wept.
A rose for a rose,
A masterpiece for the painter,
That is what, I am giving you.
You may gaze upon this flower
You can close your eyes and wish
And now the rose is wishing upon you.
Your skin is that of silk
Your beauty is that of mine eyes,
And your soul is that of the free wind.
So now I present you the rose,
As a man presents GOD his soul,
And know you’ll know where I have been.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Gertrude Stein met Marilyn Monroe in Tiffany's
a rose is a rose is a rose is a rose
and a dozen roses ring around a posy -
but a rose is not as rosy as a ring -
for diamonds are a man's best bet;
a rose is just a rose but the future could be rosy -
a diamond is a girl's best bait.
a rose is a rose but eventually goes off;
even love can have a nasty end;
but a man who's had his day can always be disposed of...
while diamonds are a lifetime friend...
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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.
A Black Rose
A black rose can stop the beat of ones heart
A black rose bring the scent of death as it tears love apart
A black rose makes nightmares relity
A black rose fills my life with unsertanty
A black rose is forgoten hopes and dream
A black rose is a broken man laying in tears and painful screams
A black rose is the pain of a widowed wife
A black rose is lost love in my hopless life
A black rose is the memorys that haunt my restless soul
A black rose took everthing from me that once made me whole
poem by Glenn McGahan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Black Rose
A black rose can stop the beat of ones heart…
A black rose brings the scent of death as it tears love apart…
A black rose makes nightmares reality…
A black rose fills my life with uncertainty…
A black rose is forgotten hopes and dreams…
A black rose is a broken girl laying in tears and painful screams…
A black rose is the pain of a shattered life…
A black rose is lost love in my hopeless life…
A black rose is the memories that haunt my restless soul…
A black rose took everything from me that once made me whole…
Including…you…
(Rose poems) Arise! ... oh rose!
Arise! ... oh rose!
The world may look cold
And aloof and unconcerned
And too preoccupied
With itself...
Arise! ... oh rose!
The world is the burning fire!
Open the floodgates of your love
And Holy tenderness and bring
Love to the world at war
With itself
Douse the strife of hatred with
The waters of your vast seas
Oh beloved and cherished rose!
Arise! ...beautilicious rose!
From the ghetto mansions of
Their degradation and the slum
Prisons of their humiliation
Bring the sweet scent the Hope of their
Emancipation oh sweet and lovely rose!
Rose of Pity and Mercy
Teach the world to make love
And not war
The nations wait for you to bring
The miracle of reconciliation
To them
Oh rose of friendship
Arise! ...unite the world!
poem by Ngaka Motaung
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Red, Red Rose Of Sanity
There is a red, red rose
that grows outside my pane.
A pane that's never opened and where I must remain.
I don't know how long I've been here
or how many years.
All I seem to remember is a red, red rose appears.
As I look outside the pane that's spaced by iron bars,
the only other thing I see at night time are the stars.
The rose that grows outside my pane
I wish that I could touch.
The feel of it I do not know, but the sight's a red, red blush.
They feed me and bathe me and then they bring me back.
And then they give me shots and a pill they call Prozac.
It's then I become so quiet and no one even knows
that the only thing I live for is to see my red, red rose.
Sometimes I hear them talking as I sit there by the pane.
Most words I do not understand except the word 'insane.'
I think it means that something in my head isn't right.
How'd this happen to me? Why is this my plight?
I close my ears to all they say and see my red, red rose.
I often wish the pane was up so I could use my nose
to smell the sweet, sweet perfume I know the rose must give.
It's the only thought I have that makes me want to live.
Sometimes when the snow appears, my rose is gone away.
It's then I do remember, remember how to pray.
I pray that God will send the sun, the warmth and not the snows,
so I can look out of my pane to see my red, red rose.
Dedicated to all who have been institutionalized
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Nose
No one cares for the nose
To go nose straight is the tao
If there were no eyes
You could see better with your nose
If there were no nose
you wouldnot distinguish the sweet from the bitter
And there would be no value judgements in the world
And it is the nose that keeps you hot in the cold
And that keeps you cold in Jakodabad
The nose is the vigilant customs officer
That does not allow any drug to your lungs
And the nose cannot be bribed
Oh Nose! the customs officer of the body
And the pivot of value judgement in the world
If that name thou love
Remain with us and teach the noseless world
That it must have a nose in this wartorn world
He who knows the greatness of nose
Surely goes to the realm of rose
In the life to come
Hurrah Let us compose hymns to nose
poem by Dr. Ramesh Chandra Mukhopadhyaya
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!