Once they spall-sparkled like foxglove!
The downbeat, downtrodden, joys of love.
Once they spall-sparkled like foxglove!
But now deflate like a beach ball…
Pig’s bladder, words choke, a hairball.
And cough out each forgotten phrase!
Utterances of the bee, still purveys.
But—isn’t partial to a petal…
Doesn’t wish, to defile; not a bud.
And the rose, herself is quite, bruised.
Froze, wounded, and suffused:
Her pink-briar-arms, no-longer-cling…
The white-picket-fence where-once did sing.
Inside the fountains cave all they grasp
Steadfast nettle stinging, an asp…?
O’ they hear torrent; waters past…
In their drowning, they cut the mainmast.
But remain, anchored to the last.
For they’ve made a sticky honey-caste!
poem by Mark Heathcote
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Petal of a Rose
A whole forest of them,
Or just a single petal of a rose,
Is enough,
Grasp it in my hand,
Grasp it I shall,
In hurricanes or normal rainy days,
It won't leave my caring palms,
That one petal of a rose,
To remind me of the rose in all her beauty,
But the rose is gone,
In some other forest some place far,
A forest forbidden to me,
There it blooms without me,
Only because of this fool's mistake,
So please do not escape or leave me,
Petal of a rose,
poem by Paurakh Shrestha
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Up To My Ears In Tears
(alan jackson/don sampson)
You told me you dont love me when you walked out the door
I stood there feelin lonely, then the tears began to pour
What else could I do, Id never felt like that before
So I cried an ol blue river I the middle of the floor
Now Im up to my ears in tears
Im cryin night and day since you went away
The things you used to say, honey, I no longer hear
That waters cold and clear, Im drownin for you dear
Up to my ears in tears
Well I found some old love letters you wrote me years ago
But the words all ran together when the tears began to flow
Cause you left that water runnin, now its got nowhere to go
If I cant wash away your memory guess Ill just go under slow
Now Im up to my ears in tears
Im cryin night and day since you went away
The things you used to say, honey, I no longer hear
That waters cold and clear, Im drownin for you dear
Up to my ears in tears
The waters cold and clear
Im drowning for you, dear
Up to my ears in tears
song performed by by Alan Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There Is A Kind Of Silence In Your Eyes (Stave Stanza Sestets)
There is a kind of silence in your eyes,
a glimmering purer than all the skies
that with tranquility speaks to my heart
draw me much nearer when we are apart,
there's something that I grasp, in a way hear,
something very frail when you are too near.
As a perfect white rose during the spring
is petal by tiny petal opening
so very fragile you do enclose me,
so very lovely is your sheer beauty,
there is something that becomes quite clear,
something very frail when you are too near.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Did I Hear You Say You Love Me
Aaah...
Did I hear you say you love me
Well baby Ive got to know
cause if you really really love me
Youve got to do things to show
Dont give me the wrong impression
By showing me warm expressions
Put me in the right direction
With tender love and affection
Ive been standing on the outside
Trying to get on the inside
Did I hear you say you need me
Well baby tell me the truth
cause if you really really need me
My sweetness heres what Ill do
Cut out all my crazy playing
cause for your love I have been laying
Just tell me that is what youre saying
And Ill be yours without delaying
Ive been standing on the outside
Trying to get on the inside
Well if you love me honey let me hear you say
I love you
If you love me honey let me hear you say
I love you
Sounds so good
Well if you love me honey let me hear you say
I love you
Did I hear you say you want me
Now please dont give me no mess
cause if you really really want me
Youve got to give me your best
Put my love life right in the pocket
And dare someone to try to top it
And when you think I want to drop it
Just love me til I beg dont stop it
cause Ive been standing on the outside
Trying to get on the inside
Well if you love me honey let me hear you say
I love you
Well if you love me honey let me hear you say
I love you
Oh, oh, oh, oh
If you love me honey let me hear you say
I love you
Baby, if you love me let me hear you say
I love you
If you love me let me hear you say
I love you
And if you need me let me hear you say
I love you
If you want me let me hear you say
I love you
If you need me let me hear you say
I love you
If you want me let me hear you say
I love you
If you need me let me hear you say
I love you
If you want me let me hear you say
I love you
If you need me let me hear you say
I love you
song performed by by Stevie Wonder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Pink Rose
A Pink rose is for the one,
Where love has blossomed and bloomed,
Where passion and purity,
With love and peace,
Combines and grows,
That brings forth the Pink rose,
Of the Red rose,
And of the White rose,
When both entwine,
Comes the Pink rose,
For all the blushing brides,
When the proposal is asked,
With the Pink rose as a sign,
Is one asking another,
In love and loves first
Red and White,
That all will show,
And carry a wedding bonquet,
Are all the Blushing brides to be,
For the Pink rose if for the one,
Where love has blossomed and bloomed,
Representing passion and purity,
That has love and peace,
Combining and growing,
From two different in color,
One extreme to another,
From the Red and the White,
That combine,
And show true love,
A Pink rose evolves,
Showing true love,
It shows in it's splendor of Pink,
For the blushing bride to be,
So to say,
'I do',
When the question is popped,
On this Valentines Day,
Valentine's Day,
A day of proposal's,
Where it is asked,
From one to another,
'Will you be mine',
From this Valentine's Day,
On to,
The next,
And,
The next,
And,
There after.
poem by Ellen Ni Bheachain
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love and Friendship
Love is like the wild rose-briar,
Friendship like the holly-tree --
The holly is dark when the rose-briar blooms
But which will bloom most contantly?
The wild-rose briar is sweet in the spring,
Its summer blossoms scent the air;
Yet wait till winter comes again
And who wil call the wild-briar fair?
Then scorn the silly rose-wreath now
And deck thee with the holly's sheen,
That when December blights thy brow
He may still leave thy garland green.
poem by Emily Jane Brontë
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Song Of Roses
'Tis time to sing of roses: of roses all ablow,
To every vagrant passing breeze they dip a courtesy low,
'Tis time to sing of roses! for June is here, you know.
One song for true love's roses of sweetest deepest red,
Some heart will wear you faithfully when life itself hath fled,
And for the white rose sing a song--the white rose for the dead.
And ah! the yellow roses, of brightest, lightest gold,
King Midas must have touched their leaves in mystic days of old,
Or they were made of sunshine, and gilded, fold by fold.
And the roadside rose, sweet-briar, we would remember thee
And the cinnamon rose that evermore enthralls each passing bee,
You old, old-fashioned roses, a-growing wild and free.
'Tis time to sing of roses! of roses all ablow!
They come again, as sweet, my dear, as those of long ago.
'Tis time to sing of roses! for June is here you know.
poem by Virna Sheard
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Real Friendship Is
Friendship sails 'cross all kinds of seas-
The calm, the stirred, the galed...
Serene, difficult and outright stormy...
But true friendship-it never fails;
You come together open-hearted-
With profound respect and devotion-
Tied together with a common thread-
That can sustain any waves of the ocean;
The mark of true friendship stands...
Even when ones skies turn grey-
It is not just partial to sunny fair weather...!
Or absolute attendence come what may! ;
For oft' times we get side tracked...
From our own personal tragedies or worse...
Leaving us sometimes absent but never forgetting...
Our true friends in lifes most gifted verse;
For true friendship is not picky-!
It doesn't correct, fault find or critisize...!
It is a blessing as sure as Gods love-
A most cherished gift in our lives;
May 24,2010
Love And Friendship
By Emily Bronte
Love is like the wild rose briar
Friendship like the holly tree
The holly is dark when the rose briar blooms
But which will bloom most constantly?
The wild rose-briar is sweet in the Spring
Its Summer blossoms scent the air
Yet wait till Winter comes again
And who will call the wild briar fair?
Then scorn the silly rose-wreath now
And deck thee with the hollys sheen
That when December blights thy brow
He may still leave thy garland green.
poem by Theodora Onken
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Heart Like A Sad Song
(written by annie roboff and arnie roman)
She loves the ones with all that wounded pride
The ones who carry all that hurt inside
Who never seem to find a place they belong
Shes got a heart like a sad song
And she will give them all the love she can
Even when love wont give her half a chance
And she will stay with them till all hope is gone
Shes got a heart like a sad song
Theres a wedding picture she still keeps
Of the girl she was and the man he seemed to be
He left her the house with the picket fence
And walked away with her innocence
Theres a wedding picture she still keeps
Of the girl she was and the man he seemed to be
He left her the house with the picket fence
And walked away with her innocence
Now from the moment that love comes to call
Shes waiting for that other shoe to fall
Goodbyes the only thing that shes counting on
Oh, shes got a heart like a sad song
Shes got a heart like a sad song
song performed by by Trisha Yearwood
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cry No More
Cry cry cry
I've seen cries of many bruised faces
Tears, bubbles of the eyes
And, coma I've seen of the wounded hearts
The one you love the most
Has finally kicked your bucket
The coldness and the breaming
Of todays sun now glow at you
How could I bestows your comfort state
How could you please sober
To my consoling utterances
Or, how could you not allow your eyes
To weep much longer
More ado to your lid lips
Engaged's my sympathy
Take heart and draw your fruits closer
poem by Oluwole Olawale Michael
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Those Two Red Roses..
Roses..
White and yellow abound much
Grouping to match wayward
Red roses popping up the fences..
Two red
In special peering pretext
Piercing through the spikes..
Bruised fence adrift
Twenty days more
've been in bloom
Appearing to me gossiping..
've been watching and praying..
Such their charm shouldn't fade..
They continue their blooming..
Nay, gossiping..
Flanked by three more red
Alike out through the fence..
Gossiping going on and on bigger
Their hushing verbiage
I cannot grasp
But a solitary pink seemingly
Lonely in seclusion apprehensive
All about her I suppose
She droops her face down
Pale and petals off in drops..
I ready myself for a tiff
poem by Indira Renganathan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Love Song
I gave her a rose in early June,
Fed with the sun and the dew,
Each petal I said is a note in the tune,
The rose is the whole tune through and through,
The tune is the whole red-hearted rose,
Flush and form, honey and hue,
Lull with the cadence and throb to the close,
I love you, I love you, I love you.
She gave me a rose in early June,
Fed with the sun and the dew,
Each petal she said is a mount in the moon,
The rose is the whole moon through and through,
The moon is the whole pale-hearted rose,
Round and radiance, burnish and blue,
Break in the flood-tide that murmurs and flows,
I love you, I love you, I love you.
This is our love in early June,
Fed with the sun and the dew,
Moonlight and roses hid in a tune,
The roses are music through and through,
The moonlight falls in the breath of the rose,
Light and cadence, honey and hue,
Mingle, and murmur, and flow to the close,
I love you, I love you, I love you.
poem by Duncan Campbell Scott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The White Rose
A lonely kid had no friends,
within his home his world ends.
He used to dream about colorful roses,
his love for roses was in heavy doses.
His nights filled with fears and tears,
days rolled like million years.
His mom took him to a rose garden one day,
she wanted to buy him a rose plant for his birthday.
The rose plants giggled about the boys face.
Their words wiped his happiness without a trace.
A dropp of his tear fell on a white rose's petal.
The petal turned red like a rare earth metal.
The plant pleaded him 'please don't cry'.
The words of the rose plant made him fly.
He took that plant to his garden.
From then his life was a gladden.
He took care of the white rose like a baby.
Loving that white rose was his full-time hobby.
His dreams and heart were filled with love.
His heart was pure like the whitest dove.
At an evening the rose looked dull and dry.
The kid was full of cry and wondering why,
he didn't stopped his painful weep,
that whole night he didn't sleep.
His tired eyes slept for a minute in a doze,
a voice in his dream told something about the rose,
the dawn broke with the rose blooming,
but the kid was gone missing.
He was never been found not even a hint.
His heart was beating under the roots of the rose plant.
Because in his dream he heard that,
the rose can live forever with a human heart.
So he left his heart and he depart.
poem by Vimal Kumar N
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The rose inside me
The rose inside me:
You were the rose inside me, now you are but
the thorn of that stem that flourishes this rose
who stabs inside me?
When you shot the bullet of hate -
into this heart that loved you more than love it-self
you were my root of the bud I planted.
Now no-more than a dead petal.
No-more the rose in me.
poem by Noorie Ali
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A White Rose
THE red rose whispers of passion,
And the white rose breathes of love;
O, the red rose is a falcon,
And the white rose is a dove.
But I send you a cream-white rosebud
With a flush on its petal tips;
For the love that is purest and sweetest
Has a kiss of desire on the lips
poem by John Boyle O'Reilly
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love and Friendship
Love is like the wild rose-briar;
Friendship like the holly-tree.
The holly is dark when the rose-briar blooms,
But which will bloom most constantly?
The wild rose-briar is sweet in spring,
Its summer blossoms scent the air;
Yet wait till winter comes again,
And who will call the wild-briar fair?
Then, scorn the silly rose-wreath now,
And deck thee with the holly's sheen,
That, when December blights thy brow,
He still may leave thy garland green.
poem by Emily Brontë from Selections from the literary remains of Emily and Anne Brontë (1850)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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To Muriel: at the Opera
Roses and rose-buds, red and white,
Nestled between your breasts to-night,
And, lying there with drowsy breath,
Sweetly resigned themselves to death.
Ah, cruel child! that would not so
Suffer the perfumed life to go,
But, hungering for the rose's heart
Of midmost sweetness, plucked apart
Petal from petal: 'Ah!' you said
(With lips that kissed white roses red)
'To live on love and roses!'
Well,
But if the rose were Muriel?
poem by Arthur Symons
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What?
Beside a multi-colored beach ball a young man lies on the white sand on a beach
A tall, suntanned woman hides herself
On the other side
Changing her pink bra
and you were there
thirsty
looking
completely finding what you have been looking
tell them
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An Embroidery
Rose Red's hair is brown as fur
and shines in firelight as she prepares
supper of honey and apples, curds and whey,
for the bear, and leaves it ready
on the hearth-stone.
Rose White's grey eyes
look into the dark forest.
Rose Red's cheeks are burning,
sign of her ardent, joyful
compassionate heart.
Rose White is pale,
turning away when she hears
the bear's paw on the latch.
When he enters, there is
frost on his fur,
he draws near to the fire
giving off sparks.
Rose Red catches the scent of the forest,
of mushrooms, of rosin.
Together Rose Red and Rose White
sing to the bear;
it is a cradle song, a loom song,
a song about marriage, about
a pilgrimage to the mountains
long ago.
Raised on an elbow,
the bear stretched on the hearth
nods and hums; soon he sighs
and puts down his head.
He sleeps; the Roses
bank the fire.
Sunk in the clouds of their feather bed
they prepare to dream.
Rose Red in a cave that smells of honey
dreams she is combing the fur of her cubs
with a golden comb.
Rose White is lying awake.
Rose White shall marry the bear's brother.
Shall he too
when the time is ripe,
step from the bear's hide?
Is that other, her bridegroom,
here in the room?
poem by Denise Levertov
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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White Rose
I beheld your face and saw my white rose embrace her last breath in death. The betrayal I'd shown, the deceit of it cried and the plight of my innocent bride now in her coffin lies. I pierced the heart of her love when I tried another for a sex ride and lied and now I can't hide. In her note it said with another I'll not share my bed I'd rather be dead. Her funeral today the white rose petal tips did settle a pillow for her head. The tears I weep will forever seep for the bride I was to wed. I justified, cheated, rationalized and minimized the depth of her love, chided and betrayed a love that had much better roots than I. Forever from this selfish sickness die inside where pride and lust lie. By the grace of God release the guilt inside in faith I hope to say to my white rose again someday forgiveness is the way and White rose of purity I pray in your hands she does lay.
poem by Vanita Allgood
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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