On Reading the
In a Kentish Rose Garden.
Beside a Dial in the leafy close,
Where every bush was burning with the Rose,
With million roses falling flake by flake
Upon the lawn in fading summer snows:
I read the Persian Poet's rhyme of old,
Each thought a ruby in a ring of gold--
Old thoughts so young, that, after all these years,
They're writ on every rose-leaf yet unrolled.
You may not know the secret tongue aright
The Sunbeams on their rosy tablets write;
Only a poet may perchance translate
Those ruby-tinted hieroglyphs of light.
poem by Mathilde Blind
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
In a Kentish Rose Garden.
Beside a Dial in the leafy close,
Where every bush was burning with the Rose,
With million roses falling flake by flake
Upon the lawn in fading summer snows:
I read the Persian Poet's rhyme of old,
Each thought a ruby in a ring of gold--
Old thoughts so young, that, after all these years,
They're writ on every rose-leaf yet unrolled.
You may not know the secret tongue aright
The Sunbeams on their rosy tablets write;
Only a poet may perchance translate
Those ruby-tinted hieroglyphs of light.
poem by Mathilde Blind
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!
Ruby Red Rose
To touch your lips,
ruby red rose
is to touch the petals
of a rose that grows
soft with moisture,
dewy and wet.
They're touched by your tongue,
withdrawn and yet
they glisten and shine.
And what I see
are kisses saved
just for me.
They sometimes smile
and beckon me.
I savor the feel
they give and see
that no other lips
could be as fine.
No other lips
like ruby red wine
could ever compare
as they open and close
to anything else
but a ruby red rose.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The December Rose
Here's a rose that blows for Chloe,
Fair as ever a rose in June was,
Now the garden's silent, snowy,
Where the burning summer noon was.
In your garden's summer glory
One poor corner, shelved and shady,
Told no rosy, radiant story,
Grew no rose to grace its lady.
What shuts sun out shuts out snow too;
From his nook your secret lover
Shows what slighted roses grow to
When the rose you chose is over.
poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Rubies
There are nine rubies in this Indian ring,
And every blood-red ruby is a part
Of the nine-petalled rose that is my heart,
The elaborate rose of my own fashioning.
Not out of any garden have I sought
The rose that is more brief than dawn or dew:
Stones of the flame and ice, I find in you
The image of the heart that I have wrought.
For you are cold and burn as though with fire,
For you are hard, yet veil soft depths below,
And each divided ruby seems to glow
With the brief passion of its own desire.
Rose of my heart, shall this too be the same?
For, when one light catches the wandering rays,
They rush together in one consuming blaze
Of indivisible and ecstatic flame.
poem by Arthur Symons
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Winter Sunset
Roses in the sky,
Roses in the sea
Bowers of scarlet sky-roses
Take my heart and me.
God was good to make,
This December weather,
All this sky a rose-garden,
Rose and fire together.
To the East are burning
Roses in a garden,
Roses in a rosy field,
Hesper for their warden.
Yonder to the West
Roses all afire,
Mirror now some rare splendid
Rose of their desire.
Pulsing deeper, deeper,
Waves of fire throb on,
Never were such red roses
At sunset or dawn.
Roses on the hills,
Roses in the hollow,
Roses on the wet hedges,
In the shining fallow.
West wind, blow and blow!
That has blown ajar
Gates of God's great rose-garden,
Where His Angels are,
Gathering up the rose-leaves
For a shower of roses
On the night the Lord Babe
His sweet eye uncloses.
All the sky is scarlet
Flaming on the azure.
O, there's fire in Heaven
My heart aches with pleasure.
Leagues of rose and scarlet,
Roses red as blood:
All the world's a rose-garden.
God is good, is good.
poem by Katharine Tynan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Planted a Rose Tree
I planted a rose tree in my garden,
In early days when the year was young;
I thought it would bear me roses, roses,
While nights were dewy and days were long.
It bore me once, and a white rose only--
A lovely rose with petals of light;
Like the moon in heaven, supreme and lonely;
And the lightning struck it one summer night.
poem by Mathilde Blind
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Rose, Rose(by Henrry Zhou)
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
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!
Sweet Perfume
A rose arose with rosy hue,
And made my torn heart, so sparkling new,
A rose arose as roses do,
And warmth for its guise within me grew.
A rose arose with beauty bright,
And gladdened my heart with such delight,
A rose arose as roses might,
And set out great charm before my sight.
A rose arose with summertime,
And imbued my heart with songs sublime,
A rose arose as roses climb,
And showed itself in all its prime.
A rose arose inside the room,
And lifted my heart so full of gloom,
A rose arose as roses bloom,
And fused the air with its sweet perfume.
poem by Ernestine Northover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Rose poem for was it Fran
The rose
you may colour it yourself
sang for many days
about God
for those who would listen
then fading and dying
or so it might appear
sang to a passing poet
who found a place for it
and the rose spent the winter
blooming in his poem
while the poet sang
about God
until the next year came around
when the rose
took up the song again
while the poem faded a little
but did not die
[*who didn't like the colour of the rose in the other poem]
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Blood Rose...
There is a rose laying on the ground,
Blood is running out of the rose.
The rose's colour began to fade until it was a pale gray.
This only took around ten minutes.
The rose was pale, cold and dead.
The rose was found by a young man who was walking by.
He wondered why the rose was cold and gray.
He found another one a few days later.
What he didn't know was that the roses represented the broken hearts of teenage girls.
The roses wer originally blood red, only fading to grey when her heart was broken.
The roses were later known as the Blood Rose.
poem by MaddiiAnne O'Leary
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
One Flower Grows, One Dies
that rose that grows is surrounded by the suns light, glowing
that rose grows, while my rose dies
my beautiful rose
with the smell of a million roses together
not the store bought roses that just smell like plastic and chemicals
no, the natural smell that i wish i could keep forever
she was my rose, she was the rose that died
and she is the one growing for another one
my flower dies, and the other one grew
not for me, but for you.
poem by Sarah Rabago
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!
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.
Less’er Love, And A Rose, In My Garden
I am gardener…. I prune, sheer… at times
…at times I have lesser love
And in less is more, very much more
…………….and there is this garden
..the garden, ours by the Grace of the Life Force, supreme God
..there is this Rose, and those Roses there… all chose a place to be
I, the Gardner choose the blooms from which Rose goes to the glass next my bed
I love this Rose, and less but similar those other
….they decide when to bloom
In sping late winter their souls weep, as I sheer, as I must
In spring and summer and early winter we rejoice as they bloom abundantly
…..every night one bloom from The Rose that’ad also chosen me
in the glass of water next my bed read to me, and comfort me
the delicate-, bewitching fragrance the bookmark for tomorrow night
I love that Rose as my chosen
I am gardener…. I prune, sheer… at times
…..only one Rose reads to me… I a lesser Gardener
Lesser, cause I’m only able t’love one Rose…..this Rose here
….those Roses there, some’r lessor Roses, some’r superior Roses, are my friends
Lesser in texture, shape and fiber and fragrance
Some superior in texture, or shape and or fiber and or fragrance
Friends equal in dimension with the Rose, but less in love than the Rose
…..every night one bloom from The Rose, that’s chosen me
in the glass of water next my bed read to me, and comfort me
the delicate-, bewitching fragrance the bookmark for tomorrow night
I love that Rose as my chosen
I, the gardener…. I prune, sheer…. at times
These other Roses who chose my garden
...so valuable in a muchness o’ Friendship,
…the quality their love much the same as that The Rose
Different the lesser my love, even though my caring equals that towards The Rose
We are blessed, those of us in the garden
…the magnificence of this garden in my life is the sumtotal of you all in my garden
I drink your fragrance intoxicated with love
I love The Rose, and my friends these other Roses in the garden Bless this love
poem by Johan Fourie
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!
Women and Roses
I
I dream of a red-rose tree.
And which of its roses three
Is the dearest rose to me?
II
Round and round, like a dance of snow
In a dazzling drift, as its guardians, go
Floating the women faded for ages,
Sculptured in stone, on the poet's pages.
Then follow women fresh and gay,
Living and loving and loved to-day.
Last, in the rear, flee the multitude of maidens,
Beauties yet unborn. And all, to one cadence,
They circle their rose on my rose tree.
III
Dear rose, thy term is reached,
Thy leaf hangs loose and bleached:
Bees pass it unimpeached.
IV
Stay then, stoop, since I cannot climb,
You, great shapes of the antique time!
How shall I fix you, fire you, freeze you,
Break my heart at your feet to please you?
Oh, to possess and be possessed!
Hearts that beat 'neath each pallid breast!
Once but of love, the poesy, the passion,
Drink but once and die!—In vain, the same fashion,
They circle their rose on my rose tree.
V
Dear rose, thy joy's undimmed,
Thy cup is ruby-rimmed,
Thy cup's heart nectar-brimmed.
VI
Deep, as drops from a statue's plinth
The bee sucked in by the hyacinth,
So will I bury me while burning,
Quench like him at a plunge my yearning,
Eyes in your eyes, lips on your lips!
Fold me fast where the cincture slips,
Prison all my soul in eternities of pleasure,
Girdle me for once! But no—the old measure,
They circle their rose on my rose tree.
VII
Dear rose without a thorn,
Thy bud's the babe unborn:
First streak of a new morn.
VIII
Wings, lend wings for the cold, the clear!
What is far conquers what is near.
Roses will bloom nor want beholders,
Sprung from the dust where our flesh moulders.
What shall arrive with the cycle's change?
A novel grace and a beauty strange.
I will make an Eve, be the artist that began her,
Shaped her to his mind!—Alas! in like manner
They circle their rose on my rose tree.
poem by Robert Browning from Men and Women (1855)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy!
Roses
(melba montgomery, leslie satcher)
A soft summer evening, another time, another place
He brought her red roses on their very first date
She got carried away by the things that he said
Time would erase them but she would never forget
Chorus:
And the roses heard it all
The rose in her hair, the rose in her hand
The roses in the paper on the wall
Theres a story to tell if the roses could talk
Somewhere close to midnight, another time, another place
She lays in the darkness with tears on her face
While he talks in his sleep confessing his love
He calls out a name that shes never heard of
Repeat chorus
She never told him
She never let him see her cry
Only the roses know
What she kept down inside
The years took their toll and the angels took her away
Now theres family and friends at a cold winters grave
He kneels down and whispers. youre the only love that Ive known
As he lays a rose on a cold marble atone
But the roses heard it all
The rose from her garden, the rose in her bible
The roses in the paper on the wall
Theres a story to tell if roses could talk
What a story to tell if roses could talk~
song performed by by Reba Mcentire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
A Water-Colored World
I had wanted to write your elegy
on the subway,
Old Poet of another Eastern city,
ever since my Russian student e-mailed
her office all your February rose-lit
tulip-tinted green and wavy
after-image of the UN building.
I have wanted to recall
the Adam’s I and eye, the garden master’s
roses on Long Island, the tough and cocky
mariner. The voice comes back
at dusk, beside an artificial tree,
your friend’s flat Upstate accent
like your own, more humorous
and less engaged.
Old Poet,
who grew
and colored brightly all your world,
“I salute.”
poem by Kathleen Griffin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!