Related quotes: Last night some yellow letters...

Old Letters

Last night some yellow letters fell
From out a scrip I found by chance;
Among them was the silent ghost,
The spirit of my first romance:
And in a faint blue envelope
A withered rose long lost to dew
Bore witness to the dashing days
When love was large and wits were few.

Yet standing there all worn and grey
The teardrops quivered in my eyes
To think of Youth's unshaken front,
The forehead lifted to the skies;
How rough a hill my eager feet
Flung backward when upon its crest
I saw the flutter of the lace
The wind awoke on Helen's breast!

How thornless were the roses then
When fresh young eyes and lips were kind
When Cupid in our porches proved
How true the tale that Love is blind!
But Red-and-White and Poverty
Would only mate while shone the May;
Then came a Bag of Golden Crowns
And jingled Red-and-White away.

Grown old and niggard of romance
I wince not much at aught askew,
And often ask my favourite cat
What else had Red-and-White to do?
And here's the bud that rose and sank,
A crimson island on her breast--
Why should I burn it? Once again
Hide, rose, and dream. God send me rest.

poem by Norman Rowland Gale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes

Transparent Rose

Transparent Rose
In my heart lies a Vase
With 5 roses
5 roses all for you
With five different colors
All to show you what you mean to me
The First Rose
The yellow Rose
The yellow rose is the rose for you from me
To let you know you’re my friend, my best friend
That is a way to show you I’ll be always there for you
The Second Rose
The Blue Rose
The blue rose is to show you
With all my heart what you mean to me
With this rose I show you
There is no battle that I won’t fight for you there is no ocean big enough that can separate my love from you
There is no mountain high enough that I can’t climb for you
With this rose is the beginning of my love to you
The Third Rose
The Red Rose
Within this rose lies all the love I have for you
All the caring
All the loving
I will give to you
This rose show you how you should be treated
I will always romance your heart just to see you smile
Like an Angel
The Fourth Rose
The White Rose
With this rose I show you
All the passion that lies in my heart
All the tenderness I have towards you
All the love that I will show you each time I have and can
With all my strength and love
My heart cries for you
The Fifth Rose
A Rose that has no color
A rose that is undying
A rose that you can see trough and that there is nothing to hide
A rose so pure and true
That all that lies in it is you
So perfectly, so preciously
A girl that is so pure of heart like an angel
This Rose is a Transparent Rose
With this rose I show you all that I am
With this rose I show you I have nothing to hide
Here you can see your reflection that lies in my heart
A love so deeply living in me
I love you with all my heart
And there is no way that these roses will die
Your love is the water to keep them alive

poem by Carlos Wever
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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5 Roses

poem by Ricky Baker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Unforgiving Love

one day a blue bird fell in love with a white rose..the rose was envious of everybod falling in love and was afraid that she will get hurt..the blue bird told her that he had loved her from afar but was too scared to tell the white rose how much he actaully did...the white rose told the bird when my petals turn from white to red i will fall in love with you back....the blue bird came by and by everyday and told the white rose how much he loved her...until one day the blue bird cut his wings and soaked the white rose with his blood...the white rose's petals turned from white to a luscious red and she realized how much the blue bird loved her..but it was too late the blue bird fell in front of the rose and the rose was red forever..that's why roses are giving to the ones we loved

poem by Ariff Khan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Romance Bore Seduction

Hand blessed hand, caressed.
A blushing rose, her face;
Her breast alive;
The elfin nose, a diamond set -
A kiss upon perfection

Bore a rise of pulse
To coach a sultry moan
Across a mellow breath of wine.
He knew; he sensed,
And easing loose a clasp of lace,
Another sign of her relenting:
Wild the play of eyes,
A fuller glide of skin;

He felt the now begin -
Her swell, intention in the sigh.

And so to hedge his move upon the cue -
The cry of deep anticipation,
Waxing all he saw -
Tho' not for us to view -
Arrived, emotion raw.

Now render to caressing waves of romance

Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance

poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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White rose, red

Take my white rose
White rose, red
Love everlasting
Even when dead

Kiss my white rose
White rose, red
In which love flows
In what is said

Cry on my white rose
White rose, red
Always there to be with you
And comfort you when sad

Love my white rose
White rose, red
So I may forever be with you
Loving you with the symbol
White rose...
White rose stained blood red

(Xanxus)

poem by Giotto Vongola
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Margaret's Bridal Eve

The old grey mother she thrummed on her knee:
There is a rose that's ready;
And which of the handsome young men shall it be?
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.

My daughter, come hither, come hither to me:
There is a rose that's ready;
Come, point me your finger on him that you see:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.

O mother, my mother, it never can be:
There is a rose that's ready;
For I shall bring shame on the man marries me:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.

Now let your tongue be deep as the sea:
There is a rose that's ready;
And the man'll jump for you, right briskly will he:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.

Tall Margaret wept bitterly:
There is a rose that's ready;
And as her parent bade did she:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.

O the handsome young man dropped down on his knee:
There is a rose that's ready;
Pale Margaret gave him her hand, woe's me!
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.

O mother, my mother, this thing I must say:
There is a rose in the garden;
Ere he lies on the breast where that other lay:
And the bird sings over the roses.

Now, folly, my daughter, for men are men:
There is a rose in the garden;
You marry them blindfold, I tell you again:
And the bird sings over the roses.

O mother, but when he kisses me!
There is a rose in the garden;
My child, 'tis which shall sweetest be!
And the bird sings over the roses.

O mother, but when I awake in the morn!
There is a rose in the garden;
My child, you are his, and the ring is worn:
And the bird sings over the roses.

Tall Margaret sighed and loosened a tress:
There is a rose in the garden;
Poor comfort she had of her comeliness
And the bird sings over the roses.

My mother will sink if this thing be said:
There is a rose in the garden;
That my first betrothed came thrice to my bed;
And the bird sings over the roses.

He died on my shoulder the third cold night:
There is a rose in the garden;
I dragged his body all through the moonlight:
And the bird sings over the roses.

But when I came by my father's door:
There is a rose in the garden;
I fell in a lump on the stiff dead floor:
And the bird sings over the roses.

O neither to heaven, nor yet to hell:
There is a rose in the garden;
Could I follow the lover I loved so well!
And the bird sings over the roses.

III

The bridesmaids slept in their chambers apart:
There is a rose that's ready;
Tall Margaret walked with her thumping heart:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.

The frill of her nightgown below the left breast:
There is a rose that's ready;
Had fall'n like a cloud of the moonlighted West:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.

But where the West-cloud breaks to a star:
There is a rose that's ready;
Pale Margaret's breast showed a winding scar:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.

O few are the brides with such a sign!
There is a rose that's ready;
Though I went mad the fault was mine:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.

I must speak to him under this roof to-night:
There is a rose that's ready;
I shall burn to death if I speak in the light:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.

O my breast! I must strike you a bloodier wound:
There is a rose that's ready;
Than when I scored you red and swooned:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.

I will stab my honour under his eye:
There is a rose that's ready;
Though I bleed to the death, I shall let out the lie:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.

O happy my bridesmaids! white sleep is with you!
There is a rose that's ready;
Had he chosen among you he might sleep too!
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.

O happy my bridesmaids! your breasts are clean:
There is a rose that's ready;
You carry no mark of what has been!
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.

An hour before the chilly beam:
Red rose and white in the garden;
The bridegroom started out of a dream:
And the bird sings over the roses.

He went to the door, and there espied:
Red rose and white in the garden;
The figure of his silent bride:
And the bird sings over the roses.

He went to the door, and let her in:
Red rose and white in the garden;
Whiter looked she than a child of sin:
And the bird sings over the roses.

She looked so white, she looked so sweet:
Red rose and white in the garden;
She looked so pure he fell at her feet:
And the bird sings over the roses.

He fell at her feet with love and awe:
Red rose and white in the garden;
A stainless body of light he saw:
And the bird sings over the roses.

O Margaret, say you are not of the dead!
Red rose and white in the garden;
My bride! by the angels at night are you led?
And the bird sings over the roses.

I am not led by the angels about:
Red rose and white in the garden;
But I have a devil within to let out:
And the bird sings over the roses.

O Margaret! my bride and saint!
Red rose and white in the garden;
There is on you no earthly taint:
And the bird sings over the roses.

I am no saint, and no bride can I be:
Red rose and while in the garden;
Until I have opened my bosom to thee:
And the bird sings over the roses.

To catch at her heart she laid one hand:
Red rose and white in the garden;
She told the tale where she did stand:
And the bird sings over the roses.

She stood before him pale and tall:
Red rose and white in the garden;
Her eyes between his, she told him all:
And the bird sings over the roses.

She saw how her body grow freckled and foul:
Red rose and white in the garden;
She heard from the woods the hooting owl:
And the bird sings over the roses.

With never a quiver her mouth did speak:
Red rose and white in the garden;
O when she had done she stood so meek!
And the bird sings over the roses.

The bridegroom stamped and called her vile:
Red rose and white in the garden;
He did but waken a little smile:
And the bird sings over the roses.

The bridegroom raged and called her foul:
Red rose and white in the garden;
She heard from the woods the hooting owl:
And the bird sings over the roses.

He muttered a name full bitter and sore:
Red rose and white in the garden;
She fell in a lump on the still dead floor:
And the bird sings over the roses.

O great was the wonder, and loud the wail:
Red rose and white in the garden;
When through the household flew the tale:
And the bird sings over the roses.

The old grey mother she dressed the bier:
Red rose and white in the garden;
With a shivering chin and never a tear:
And the bird sings over the roses.

O had you but done as I bade you, my child!
Red rose and white in the garden;
You would not have died and been reviled:
And the bird sings over the roses.

The bridegroom he hung at midnight by the bier:
Red rose and white in the garden;
He eyed the white girl thro' a dazzling tear:
And the bird sings over the roses.

O had you been false as the women who stray:
Red rose and white in the garden;
You would not be now with the Angels of Day!
And the bird sings over the roses.

poem by George Meredith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Living Picture

HE RODE along one splendid noon,
When all the hills were lit with Spring,
And through the bushland throbbed a croon
Of every living, hopeful thing.

Between his teeth a rose he bore
As white as milk, and passing there
He tossed it with a laugh. I wore
It as it fell among my hair.

No day a-drip with golden rain,
No heat with drench of wattle scent
Can touch the heart of me again
But with that young, sweet wonder blent.

We wed upon a gusty day,
When baffled fury whipped the sea;
And now I love the swift, wet play
Of wind and rain besetting me.

I took white roses in my hand,
A white rose on my forehead shone,
For we had come to understand
White roses bloomed for us alone.

When scarce a year had gone he sped
To fight the wars. With eyes grown grim
He kissed my lips, and whispering said:
“The world we must keep sweet for him!”

He wrote of war, the soldier’s life.
“’Tis hard, my dearest, but be brave.
I did not make my love my wife
To be the mother of a slave!”

My babe was born a boy. He had
His father’s eyes, his smile, his hair,
And, oh, my soul was brimming glad—
It seemed his father’s self was there!

But now came one who bade me still
In holy Heaven put my trust.
They’d laid my love beneath the hill,
And sealed his eyes with timeless dust.

Against my breast the babe I drew,
With strength from him to stay my fears.
I fought my fight the long days through;
He laughed and dabbled in my tears.

From my poor heart, at which it fed
With tiger teeth, I thrust despair,
And faced a world with shadow spread
And only echoes in the air.

The winter waned. One eve I went,
Led by a kindly hand to see
In moving scenes the churches rent,
The tumbled hill, the blasted lee.

Of soldiers resting by the road,
Who smoked and drowsed, a muddy rout,
One sprang alert, and forward strode,
With eager eyes to seek us out.

His fingers held a rose. He threw
The flower, and waved his cap. In me
A frenzy of assurance grew,
For, O dear God, ’twas he! ’twas he!

I called aloud. Aloft my child
I held, and nearer yet he came;
And when he understood and smiled,
My baby lisped his father’s name.

They say I fell like something dead,
But when I woke to morning’s glow
My boy sat by me on the bed,
And in his hand a rose of snow!

poem by Edward George Dyson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In The Rose Garden

RED roses bright, pink roses and white
That bud and blossom and fall;
The very sight of my heart's delight
Is more than worth them all!
Is worth far more than the whole sweet store
That ever a garden grew--
She plucked the best to die at her breast,
But it laughed and it bloomed anew!

The red rose lay at her lips to-day,
And flushed with the joy thereof;
She said a word that the white rose heard,
And the white rose paled with love.
But the west wind blows, and my lady goes,
And she leaves the world forlorn;
And every rose that the garden grows,
Might just as well be a thorn!

poem by Edith Nesbit
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The Fairy Bridal-Hymn

[This is the hymn to Eleanor, daughter of Mab and a golden drone, sung by the Locust choir when the fairy child marries her God, the yellow rose]

This is a song to the white-armed one
Cold in the breast as the frost-wrapped Spring,
Whose feet are slow on the hills of life,
Whose round mouth rules by whispering.

This is a song to the white-armed one
Whose breast shall burn as a Summer field,
Whose wings shall rise to the doors of gold,
Whose poppy lips to the God shall yield.

This is a song to the white-armed one
When the closing rose shall bind her fast,
And a song of the song their blood shall sing,
When the Rose-God drinks her soul at last.

poem by Vachel Lindsay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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White rose, red

Take my white rose
White rose, red
Love everlasting
Even when dead

Kiss my white rose
White rose, red
In which love flows
In what is said

Cry on my white rose
White rose, red
Always there to be with you
Always there to be with you sad

Love my white rose
White rose, red
So I may forever be with you
So I may forever dream with you
So I may forever love with you
All in the symbol

White rose....White rose stained red

poem by Trey Mitchell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Yellow Rose

She came in my dreams last night,
She left a yellow rose and a love note on pillow next to me,
As always the inscription read,
'we are friends for ever and in the eternity'.

Since a rose is a rose,
why the red rose shines in the glory of love?
why the white roses remind us of our departed souls?
and why the yellow rose shines the rays of friendship in all of us?

Like sunshine bursting through grey clouds,
The aura of friendship emanates from its golden petals,
The frozen dew drops on its soft satin petals,
glorifies tears on my cheeks in the times of sadness,
Its mere presence and the fragrance,
fills my heart with the scent of warmth and affection.

Yellow rose you are perfection in creation,
I wonder why you have to wither away in time,
With every falling petal, a heart is broken,
with every withered yellow rose, a token of eternal friendship is lost.

poem by Jay P Narain
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Please, Colour Me Roses

Being young and new in high school

You welcomed me into the class

With a classy smile and friendship

So I sent you a single stem rose for your simplicity

College took us far for years

Seeing you again a fully grown woman

I sent a thornless rose for it was love at first sight

After which I received an orange rose from you

Saying I have been your secret love

For our first date I could remember giving you a hibiscus rose

You were a delicate beauty

When you smiled so lovingly and all I could offer was a pink rose

For you were my symbol of perfect happiness

Since I couldn’t get you out of my mind

I decided to express it through a black rose

For you were my obsession

And when I almost lost you because of another

I needed to send you a yellow rose for I was really jealous

We click again like lovebirds

So I offered to you the white and red rose

To show that we are inseparable

In returned you posted a tea rose to me

Informing me that you will always remember

Hurriedly I made up my mind that you should be mine for ever

So I proposed with a red rose and a diamond ring

Yes, with tears in your eyes you replied

And at our wedding you were so happy

As you threw the bridal rose

At our first night together I presented to you

A bed of white roses to depicts your innocence

Purity, secrecy and silence

All through the honeymoon

I experienced rose, champagne

For you were ever loving and tender

Just like the Nicole rose that reflects gracefulness and elegance

You walked with such charm like one of aristocratic birth.

And when the children started coming into our lovely home

All I could give was rosés, bouquet of matured bloom

To express my gratitude

When death finally stole you away

the only thing I could place on your tomb

Was a dried white rose

To show that death is preferable to the loss of virtue

And when I final cross the shore to join you

Since I have lived my life in roses

Nothing more should I ask for

Than to be coloured in rose.

poem by Jesuroboowie Gift Imafidon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
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My Rose...

gift you a rose, ,
gift you my rose....
but my rose to you, is not like any rose in this world...
a rose drunk from my tears...
a rose that i take care about it by my soul...
a rose gave it a water by my blood...
and perfumed it by my love....

my rose to you, is not like an roses...
its color not like any colors...
its not a red...
and its not a white...
even not a yellow...
its color pick up from the suns` yellow color..
and mix from the seas` blue color...
and from my bloods` drops..
and from my tears...
so.. its color was mixed with my sadness and my love...

my rose to you, is not like any roses...
its perfume is not like any perfume..
its a mix between a loves` nectar...
and many of kindness, and honesty love...

my rose to you, is not like any roses...
raised inside my heart...
and takes a warm light, from my eyes` light...
and its food, from the hope, that we always wish...
and from our future, which will gather us to each others one day...
so please accept and take my rose...

poem by Hazem Al Jaber
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Yellow Roses

Hello you said the day we met
Handing me a yellow rose
You asked me out
And to your surprise
And to mine I said Id go
I thought it so romantic
And I found you sweet and bold
Though wed only met
I still said yes
To a single yellow rose
And for years to come
You were the one
To sleep with me at night
To laugh and talk
And share my thoughts
And hold me when Id cry
And on every occasion
And for no good reason to
A big bouquet or a single yellow rose
Was sent from you
Chorus:
Yellow roses
The color of sunshine
You loved me at one time
Why did you have to go
Yellow roses
Are you sending your new love
My bright yellow rose buds
I still love you so
I never see a yellow rose
That I didnt think of you
Its still my favorite flower
Though the yellows turned to blue
The day you left my teardrops fell
Upon your farewell not
You said goodbye like you said hello
With a single yellow rose
Chorus:
Yellow roses
The color of sunshine
You loved me at one time
Why did you have to go
Yellow roses
Are you sending your new love
My bright yellow rose buds
Oh I still love you so
Yellow roses
The color of sunshine
You loved me at one time
Why did you have to go
Sweet yellow roses
Are you sending your new love
My bright yellow rose buds
I still love you so

song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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.

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
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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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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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A Dove

The red rose whispers of passion,
And the white rose whispers of love;

O, the red rose is a falcon,
And the white rose is a dove.

But I send you this cream-white rosebud,
With a flush on it's pedal tips;

For the love that is purest and the seetest,
Has a kiss of desire on its lips.

poem by Kayla Danielle
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Haunted In Old Japan

I
Music of the star-shine shimmering o’er the sea
Mirror me no longer in the dusk of memory:
Dim and white the rose-leaves drift along the shore
Wind among the roses, blow no more!

II
All along the purple creek, lit with silver foam,
Silent, silent voices, cry no more of home;
Soft beyond the cherry-trees, o’er the dim lagoon,
Dawns the crimson lantern of the large low moon.

III
We that loved in April, we that turned away
Laughing, ere the wood-dove crooned across the May,
Watch the withered rose-leaves drift along the shore.
Wind among the roses, blow no more!

IV
We that saw the winter waste the weeping bower,
We that saw the young love perish like a flower,
We that saw the dark eyes deepening with tears,
Hear the vanished voices in the land beyond the years.

V
We that hurt the thing we loved; we that went astray,
We that in the darkness idly dreamed of day . . .
. . . Ah! The dreary rose-leaves drift along the shore.
Wind among the roses, blow no more!

VI
Lonely starry faces, wonderful and white,
Yearning with a cry across the dim sweet night,
All our dreams are blown a-drift as flowers before a fan,
All our hearts are haunted in the heart of old Japan.

VII
Haunted, haunted, haunted; we that mocked and sinned
Hear the vanished voices wailing down the wind,
Watch the ruined rose-leaves drift along the shore;
Wind among the roses, blow no more!

VIII
We, the sons of reason, we that chose to bride
Knowledge and rejected the Dream that we denied,
We that mocked the Holy Ghost and chose the Son of Man, [1]
Now must wander haunted in the heart of old Japan

IX
Haunted, haunted, haunted, by the sound of falling tears,
Haunted, haunted, haunted, by the yearning of the years;
Ah! the phantom rose-leaves drift along the shore;
Wind among the roses, blow no more!

X
All along the purple creek, lit with silver foam,
Sobbing, sobbing voices, cry no more of home:
Soft beyond the cherry trees, o’er the dim lagoon,
Dawns the crimson lantern of the large, low moon.

poem by Alfred Noyes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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