Like a petal of rose
Thou crushed my heart cruelly
But I still love thee
I don't have courage to say
Stay away from my memory
tanka by Mohammad Akmal Nazir
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To Anthea, Who May Command Him Any Thing
Bid me to live, and I will live
Thy Protestant to be;
Or bid me love, and I will give
A loving heart to thee.
A heart as soft, a heart as kind,
A heart as sound and free
As in the whole world thou canst find,
That heart I'll give to thee.
Bid that heart stay, and it will stay
To honour thy decree;
Or bid it languish quite away,
And't shall do so for thee.
Bid me to weep, and I will weep,
While I have eyes to see;
And having none, yet I will keep
A heart to weep for thee.
Bid me despair, and I'll despair,
Under that cypress tree;
Or bid me die, and I will dare
E'en death, to die for thee.
--Thou art my life, my love, my heart,
The very eyes of me;
And hast command of every part,
To live and die for thee.
poem by Robert Herrick
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They Shall Not Know
When thou art happy, thou dear heart of pleasure,
Because men love thee and the feasts are spread,
And Fortune in thy lap has poured her treasure,
And Spring is there and roses crown thy head,
Then think of one who loved thee for his woe,
And, if thou sigh
With others by,
They shall not know.
When thou art silent in thy day of trouble,
Because fools vex and thou hast rivals found
And love has played thee falser than a bubble
And memory stings and grief is as a wound,
Then think of one whose hand first soothed thy brow,
And, if a smile
Thy tears beguile,
These shall not know.
When all is ended, thou pale ghost of sorrow,
And time's last flower is gathered from the grove,
And yesterday to thee is as to--morrow
And there is none to speak to thee of love,
Then sing these songs one made thee long ago,
And men shall swear
Thou still art fair--
Yet shall not know.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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The Blossom
LITTLE think'st thou, poor flower,
Whom I've watch'd six or seven days,
And seen thy birth, and seen what every hour
Gave to thy growth, thee to this height to raise,
And now dost laugh and triumph on this bough,
Little think'st thou,
That it will freeze anon, and that I shall
To-morrow find thee fallen, or not at all.
Little think'st thou, poor heart,
That labourest yet to nestle thee,
And think'st by hovering here to get a part
In a forbidden or forbidding tree,
And hopest her stiffness by long siege to bow,
Little think'st thou
That thou to-morrow, ere the sun doth wake,
Must with the sun and me a journey take.
But thou, which lovest to be
Subtle to plague thyself, wilt say,
Alas! if you must go, what's that to me?
Here lies my business, and here I will stay
You go to friends, whose love and means present
Various content
To your eyes, ears, and taste, and every part;
If then your body go, what need your heart?
Well then, stay here; but know,
When thou hast stay'd and done thy most,
A naked thinking heart, that makes no show,
Is to a woman but a kind of ghost.
How shall she know my heart; or having none,
Know thee for one?
Practice may make her know some other part;
But take my word, she doth not know a heart.
Meet me in London, then,
Twenty days hence, and thou shalt see
Me fresher and more fat, by being with men,
Than if I had stay'd still with her and thee.
For God's sake, if you can, be you so too;
I will give you
There to another friend, whom we shall find
As glad to have my body as my mind.
poem by John Donne (1633)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Red, Red Rose
Red, red rose, she blew her breath
Fingers, it’s stem she caressed
Then she closed her eyes and breathed the fragrance in
Tell me red, red rose, where does love end
She placed the rose, gently against her lips
She plucked a single petal, with finger tips
And as the wind caught and carried up high
Tell me red, red rose, can love it fly
Slowly one by one, each petal fell
Upon the last in her eye, a tear it swelled
And then she sighed as she asked to her self
Tell me red, red rose, is for love, is this what’s left
Red, red rose, red, red rose
You stand for love you should know
Should we hold on tight with all our might
Must one day we let go
Red, red rose, red, red rose
Your petals fly in the breeze
If I let go, red, red rose
What becomes of me.
Copyright 2006 Bill Simmons
aka BillWilliamStar
[email protected]
poem by Bill Simmons
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To Mary
If I had thought thou couldst have died,
I might not weep for thee;
But I forgot, when by thy side,
That thou couldst mortal be:
It never through my mind had past
The time would e'er be o'er,
And I on thee should look my last,
And thou shouldst smile no more!
And still upon that face I look,
And think 'twill smile again;
And still the thought I will not brook,
That I must look in vain.
But when I speak—thou dost not say
What thou ne'er left'st unsaid;
And now I feel, as well I may,
Sweet Mary, thou art dead!
If thou wouldst stay, e'en as thou art,
All cold and all serene—
I still might press thy silent heart,
And where thy smiles have been.
While e'en thy chill, bleak corse I have,
Thou seemest still mine own;
But there—I lay thee in thy grave,
And I am now alone!
I do not think, where'er thou art,
Thou hast forgotten me;
And I, perhaps, may soothe this heart
In thinking too of thee:
Yet there was round thee such a dawn
Of light ne'er seen before,
As fancy never could have drawn,
And never can restore!
poem by Charles Wolfe
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A Rose Petal
A Rose Petal
By: Artistic Perspective
September 15,2009
Age 12
A Rose Petal quickly falls off its rose.
I see that it's falling quickly, but in my mind I see it slowly.
What's pleasant about a piece of itself ripping, tearing away?
The only pleasant thought about it, is it will grow a new rose.
I watch the petal fall and plummet.
Until it hits the ground.
Rose petals, Rose petals, are all around.
Why must they fall off?
The rose is now unwhole.
Hopefully, it will come back,
Restore the rose's soul.
poem by Poem hunters
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Stay, Corydon, thou swain
Stay, Corydon, thou swain,
Talk not so soon of dying:
What though thy heart be slain,
What though thy love be flying?
She threatens thee, but dares not strike,
Thy nymph is light and shadow-like;
For if thou follow her, she'll fly from thee;
But if thou fly from her, she'll follow thee.
poem by John Wilbye
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Love Me Not 06
Love me not as thou would love the moon and stars
Love me not as thou would love an immortal godess
Love me as thou would love a mystery, a shadow
Love me as thou would love a secret, a rose
Love me not to die for me
Love me not as thine own
Love me as thou loves life, as the beautiful unknown
Love me as I am with out question, with out sorrow
Love me not as thou would love the moon and stars
Love me not as an immortal goddess
Love me as thou would love a secret, a shadow
Love me more as each layer, each petal unfolds
poem by Kira Bloom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To Anthea, who may command him Anything
BID me to live, and I will live
Thy Protestant to be;
Or bid me love, and I will give
A loving heart to thee.
A heart as soft, a heart as kind,
A heart as sound and free
As in the whole world thou canst find,
That heart I'll give to thee.
Bid that heart stay, and it will stay
To honour thy decree:
Or bid it languish quite away,
And 't shall do so for thee.
Bid me to weep, and I will weep
While I have eyes to see:
And, having none, yet will I keep
A heart to weep for thee.
Bid me despair, and I'll despair
Under that cypress-tree:
Or bid me die, and I will dare
E'en death to die for thee.
Thou art my life, my love my heart,
The very eyes of me:
And hast command of every part
To live and die for thee.
poem by Robert Herrick
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Canst Thou Leave Me Thus, My Katie
Chorus
Canst thou leave me thus, my Katie?
Canst thou leave me thus, my Katie?
Well thou know'st my aching heart,
And canst thou leave me thus, for pity?
Is this thy plighted, fond regard,
Thus cruelly to part, my Katie?
Is this thy faithful swain's reward-
An aching, broken heart, my Katie!
Chorus
Farewell! and ne'er such sorrows tear
That finkle heart of thine, my Katie!
Thou maysn find those will love thee dear,
But not a love like mine, my Katie,
Chorus
poem by Robert Burns
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Summer Rose
Winters instincts freeze the day,
My lovely summer rose shed it's petal's to keep the cold away,
Every petal resembles warmth and a new love into my heart,
Melting all of the ice inside to make a shallow bay,
Piercing me with her thorns like a dart,
Blinding me with its view,
My summer rose came into bloom,
The light shined like never before,
Bringing me into a world of never-ending doors,
A summer rose showed me the way,
Into the door that sealed my heart with yours forever to stay,
As the door closes keeping only you inside,
Your heart and mine began to collide,
One rose truly stood out most of all,
A summer rose only i can see,
Show everyone how much you mean to me,
Fill them with what you hold back and only keep for me within you,
Everybody watch closely and begin to see,
Here comes the summers majesty
She walks this way this kingdom bound,
Ill bow down beneath her for my heart she won,
A everlasting pedal will hit the ground,
For the dance of burning summers had just begun,
Love like this keeps the summer intertwined,
My bright rose the battle was mine,
The war you started on your own,
Let the summer reign for my vibrant rose,
As she molds her self into my heart like soft clay,
Melody's ring the summer still here,
An ancient hymn begins to bring me near,
My summer rose you've found me again,
Now together, forever will burn,
For each other until the very end,
poem by Daniel Filippov
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Friends Never Say Goodbye
Friends never say
goodbye...
But you and me
will never be the
same again.
Our friendship is
like a dying rose...
Every petal falls
off.
Every single rose petal
means something....
What you did to our
friendship is that
rose petal.
I’m sorry....but that
rose...is never going
to grow back....
And neither is our
friendship.
poem by Lisa Parks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Sonnet 65: Love By Sure Proof
Love by sure proof I may call thee unkind,
That giv'st no better ear to my just cries:
Thou whom to me such my good turns should bind,
As I may well recount, but none can prize:
For when, nak'd boy, thou couldst no harbor find
In this old world, grown now so too too wise,
I lodg'd thee in my heart, and being blind
Bu nature born, I gave to thee mine eyes.
Mine eyes, my light, my heart, my life alas,
If so great services may scorned be,
Yet let this thought thy tigrish courage pass:
That I perhaps am somewhat kin to thee,
Since in thine arms, if learn'd fame truth hath spread,
Thou bear'st the arrow, I the arrowhead.
poem by Philip Sidney
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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
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A Rose Petal
A Rose Petal
By: Artistic Perspective
September 15,2009
Age 12
A Rose Petal quickly falls off its rose.
I see that it's falling quickly, but in my mind I see it slowly.
What's pleasant about a piece of itself ripping, tearing away?
The only pleasant thought about it, is it will grow a new rose.
I watch the petal fall and plummet.
Until it hits the ground.
Rose petals, Rose petals, are all around.
Why must they fall off?
The rose is now unwhole.
Hopefully, it will come back,
Restore the rose's soul.
poem by Artistic Perspective
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Intrigue
THOU art my love
And thou art the peace of sundown
When the blue shadows soothe
And the grasses and the leaves sleep
To the song of the little brooks
Woe is me.
Thou art my love,
And thou art a storm
That breaks black in the sky
And, sweeping headlong,
Drenches and cowers each tree
And at the panting end
There is no sound
Save the melancholy cry of a single owl
Woe is me!
Thou art my love
And thou art a tinsel thing
And I in my play
Broke thee easily
And from the little fragments
Arose my long sorrow
Woe is me.
Thou art my love
And thou art a weary violet
Drooping from sun-caresses.
Answering mine carelessly
Woe is me.
Thou art my love
And thou art the ashes of other men's love
And I bury my face in these ashes
And I love them
Woe is me.
Thou art my love
And thou art the beard
On another man's face
Woe is me.
Thou art my love
And thou art a temple
And in this temple is an altar
And on this altar is my heart
Woe is me.
Thou art my love
And thou art a wretch.
Let these sacred love-lies choke thee
For I am come to where I know your lies as truth
And your truth as lies
Woe is me.
Thou art my love
And thou art a priestess
And in thy hand is a bloody dagger
And my doom comes to me surely
Woe is me.
Thou art my love
And thou art a skull with ruby eyes
And I love thee
Woe is me.
Thou art my love
And I doubt thee
And if peace came with my murder
Then would I murder
Woe is me.
Thou art my love
And thou art death
Aye, thou art death
Black and yet black
But I love thee
I love thee
Woe, welcome woe, to me.
poem by Stephen Crane
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An Earthly Love, An Eternal Love
My broken heart, he shattered,
I turned 'the other cheek',
only to be 'slapped' again.
He crushed my innocence,
but only wounded my courage,
With a broken heart,
I limped on and reached out
to save myself,
And eventually, I found you.
Crushed innocence found trust,
Reborn courage marched on,
in step with our singing hearts,
Of an earthly Love, an Eternal Love.
poem by Elke Nigro
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The Cloak
Thou keep'st thy rose-leaf
Till the rose-time will be over,
Think'st thou that Death will kiss thee?
Think'st thou that the Dark House
Will find thee such a lover
As I? Will the new roses miss thee?
Prefer my cloak unto the cloak of dust
'Neath which the last year lies,
For thou shouldst more mistrust
Time than my eyes.
poem by Ezra Pound
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To Mr. I. P.
BLEST are your north parts, for all this long time
My sun is with you ; cold and dark's our clime ;
Heaven's sun, which stay'd so long from us this year,
Stay'd in your north, I think, for she was there ;
And hither by kind nature drawn from thence,
Here rages, chafes, and threatens pestilence.
Yet I, as long as she from hence doth stay,
Think this no south, no summer, nor no day.
With thee my kind and unkind heart is run ;
There sacrifice it to that beauteous sun.
So may thy pastures with their flowery feasts,
As suddenly as lard, fat thy lean beasts ;
So may thy woods oft poll'd, yet ever wear
A green, and—when thee list—a golden hair ;
So may all thy sheep bring forth twins ; and so
In chase and race may thy horse all out-go ;
So may thy love and courage ne'er be cold ;
Thy son ne'er ward ; thy loved wife ne'er seem old.
But mayst thou wish great things, and them attain,
As thou tell'st her, and none but her, my pain.
poem by John Donne
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