A White Butterfly
a white butterfly flies
over a bouquet of white roses
intended for the
dead loved one
it lands on one of the petals
and then it disappears
i look for it and with my
breath i shy it away on a wish
that it may hover
on the red patch of my heart
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
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
Vote! | Copy!
And Then I Remember The White Roses
suddenly what flashed to my mind
on a gray afternoon, so vivid are the white roses
a bouquet of white roses
assuring me once again, after 13 years
that your love is pure, despite
that you have remained to be true
no matter what, despite the odds
and then i have seen how each petal of the white roses
fell one by one under our feet, we feel the loss again.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Butterfly, Butterfly
butterfly, butterfly
fly in the sky
butterfly, butterfly
flies so high
butterfly, butterfly
lands on my thigh
butterfly, butterfly
motionlessly lies
butterfly, butterfly
gracefully dies
poem by Adryan Bates
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Roses On White Lace
I saw you in your wedding gown
The prettiest dress
I came into the room that night
And made such a mess
In my own way, I lovingly kiss the bride
With your ring in your hand
Your eyes and your mouth open wide
In my eyes
Blood drops look like roses on white lace
They won't wash away
In my mind they're roses on white lace
Straight from the heart
So dead upon the bed
You hurt me in the deepest way
I'm crippled inside
I took your evil skin away
It's all cut and dried
I saw you tonight and carefully took your hand
With some smears on my cheeks
I knew that you would understand
In my eyes
Blood drops look like roses on white lace
They won't wash away
In my mind they're roses on white lace
Straight from the heart
So dead upon the bed, still searching for your head
They're never gonna find your face
It's hidden away
I found a very special place where you used to play
In my own way, I lovingly kiss the bride
With your ring in your hand
Your eyes and your mouth open wide
In my eyes
Blood drops look like roses on white lace
They won't wash away
In my mind they're roses on white lace
Straight from the heart
Blood drops look like roses on white lace
Crimson and sweet, stained on the sheet
Roses on white lace, pretty in red, dripping and wet
Roses on white lace, spilled on the walls, dark in the hall
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Faded Red Roses
She stood at the alter
A gown of white she did wear
With a bouquet of red roses
And blue ribbons in her hair
She waited for someone
Who was never to come
Tears leaked from her eyes
Across her cheeks did run
The bouquet of red roses
For her wedding day
Have all now faded
As time slipped away
Those faded red roses
She still holds in her hand
Years have come and gone
Waiting for this man
You’ll still find her
With tears in her eyes
As the hopes he’ll still come
Fade like the roses
Washed too much by the sun
Today she still waits all alone
Those faded red roses in her hand
Is now all that she owns
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Tis better to buy a small bouquet And give to your friend this very day, Than a bushel of roses white and red To lay on his coffin after he's dead.
Roses in the Valley
roses roses in the valley below
peaking up from the dead ground we know
one lil angle stands there crying
but not a single rose is dying
she tries to take flight with thorns in her wings
white is turning to deep deep red
red just like the roses she looks down upon
with thorns made red, and tears rolling down
the angel is dying with every tear that falls
the roses with petals of silk
shall catch the angel who's wings are no longer white as milk
now she lays down to stay
in a valley of roses that will live everyday
i am the angel
the angel that can no longer fly away
my dreams live on
like the roses, each and every day
poem by Sally Minns
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Bouquet and Bracelet
Bouquet said: “My floral ring
The homage of a heart encloses,
Whose thoughts to you go worshipping
In perfume from my blushing roses.”
Bracelet said: “My rubies red,
Though hard the gleam that each exposes,
Will last when flowers of Spring are fled
And dead are all the Summer roses.”
Beauty mused awhile, and said,
“Here’s poesy!” and sighed, “Here prose is
Bouquet! I choose the rubies red!—
In Winter they will buy me roses.”
poem by Victor James Daley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Little White Rose
Little white rose that I loved, I loved,
Roisin ban, Roisin ban!
Fair my bud as the morning's dawn.
I kissed my beautiful flower to bloom,
My heart grew glad for its rich perfume—
Little white rose that I loved!
Little white rose that I loved grew red,
Roisin rua, Roisin rua!
Passionate tears I wept for you.
Love is more sweet than the world's fame—
I dream you back in my heart the same,
Little white rose that I loved!
Little white rose that I loved grew black,
Roisin duv, Roisin duv!
So I knew not the heart of you.
Lost in the world's alluring fire,
I cry in the night for my heart's desire,
Little white rose that I loved!
poem by Dora Sigerson Shorter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A White Butterfly And The Written Words
i am afraid
i really have
to keep
on writing
what shall happen to me without
the written
existence of this poem?
i am afraid
about the consequences of my
arrogant
submission that i can live without
all these
quivering of
scribblings
what if you have nothing to read?
i am afraid about you
for this is this flower and you are the loneliest
butterfly
in white against the light
you shall disappear
and this flower falls to the ground
it rots. And you are
gone.
tomorrow morning
words repeat themselves over and over again
another white butterfly
comes
and will always hover
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Bouquet Of Roses
A BOUQUET OF ROSES
When greeted by a bouquet of thirty roses
on the anniversary day,
A mixed feeling rose within, and I didn’t
know what to say!
But I thanked the Lord for that special day!
For long I had developed an attitude towards
roses you know,
As I watched its thorns and reddish glow!
When painted like the ‘Sunflower’ they neither
die or fade, -
A visual feast for the eyes, while olfactory nerves
remain dead!
Roses like humans when cut off from their
roots,
They gradually wither and fade, as roses should!
But its lingering perfume forever remains,
As I inhale, - I am wafted beyond the world of
the dead!
- Raj Nandy
- New Delhi
- 12 Feb 09
The Gray Shades of White
i have seen those white petals
at the hotel in that big city where we are billeted
as important guests
at the lobby we stop but you were looking
excitedly for the
room with a queen size bed
your mind revolves upon
the anticipations of fun
mine is settling on those white petals
for hours as i was waiting for no one
i am not crazy
i do not wish to be one
on those white petals i was waiting
for gray....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Answer to Lost Roses
A lady received a
bouquet of roses,
It was a windy day.
A gust of wind caught
the roses,
Blew them all away.
They were tied with
yellow ribbons,
But they could not hold,
The story of lost roses,
Somehow it must be told.
Your dream ended too
quickly,
How was you to know,
The lady receieved the
roses,
They were covered with
layers of snow.
They found a place in
her heart,
It was hard to let them
go.
But she had to release
them,
To the wind, they had
to go.
To help dry up their tears,
They had to find their
way,
So they could be happy,
Laugh again some day.
Who was the sender with
a heart sublime,
The lady still awaits,
A bouquet of roses devine.
poem by Heather Burns
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Roses
People say Roses are Red,
Then, Red Roses for my passionate love to you
People say Roses are Pink,
Then, Pink Roses to show that I admire you
People say Roses are Yellow,
Then, Yellow Roses to brighten your day
People say Roses are Lavender,
Then, Lavender Roses to say that I love you at my first sight
People say Roses are Orange,
Then, Orange Roses to say that I want to build a relationship with you
And,
People say Roses are White,
Then, The White Rose for the purity and confession of my heart
To confess in my heart that I am truly falling in love with you.
Venus in the Garden
'Twas at early morning,
The dawn was blushing in her purple bed,
When in a sweet, embowered garden
She, the fairest of the goddesses,
The lovely Venus,
Roamed amongst the roses white and red.
She sought for flowers
To make a garland
For her golden head.
Snow-white roses, blood-red roses,
In that sweet garden close,
Offered incense to the goddess:
Both the white and the crimson rose.
White roses, red roses, blossoming:
But the fair Venus knew
The crimson roses had gained their hue
From the hearts that for love had bled;
And the goddess made a garland
Gathered from the roses red.
poem by James Weldon Johnson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Blue Roses
Roses red and roses white
Plucked I for my love's delight.
She would none of all my posies--
Bade me gather her blue roses.
Half the world I wandered through,
Seeking where such flowers grew.
Half the world unto my quest
Answered me with laugh and jest.
Home I came at wintertide,
But my silly love had died
Seeking with her latest breath
Roses from the arms of Death.
It may be beyond the grave
She shall find what she would have.
Mine was but an idle quest--
Roses white and red are best!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Murder Butterfly
The rainy, watery day
Frolicking in the bleeding sky
'Haha', we say
Playing with my murder butterfly
Like the white on rice
And the dots on dice
That's just alrigh'
Dancing with my murder butterfly
My butterfly's soul is of the dead
Waiting to pass through purgatory
For it is a ghost instead,
Loving my murdered butterfly
poem by Phil Kellogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Laus Mortis
I bring to thee, for love, white roses, delicate Death!
White lilies of the valley, dropping gently tears,
The white camellia, the seal of perfect years,
The misty white azalea, flickering as a breath.
White flowers I bring, and all the flowers I bring for thee,
Discreet and comforting Death! for those pale hands of thine;
O hands that I have fled, soft hands now laid on mine,
Softer than these white flowers of life, thy hands to me,
Most comfortable Death, mother of many dreams,
And gatherer of many dreams of men,
Dreams that come desolately flying back again,
With soiled and quivering wings, from undiscovered streams.
I have been fearful of thee, mother, all life long,
For I have loved a warm, alluring, treacherous bride,
Life, and she loved thee not; to hold me from thy side,
She closed her arms about my heart, to do thee wrong.
O gay and bitter bride of such divine desires,
Too fiercely passionate Life, that wast so prodigal
Of thine eternal moments, at the end of all
Take my forgiveness: I have passed through all thy fires.
Nothing can hurt me now, and having gained and lost
All things, and having loved, and having done with life,
I come back to thy arms, mother, and now all strife
Ceases; and every homeward-flying dream, wind-tossed,
My soul that looks upon thy face and understands,
My throbbing heart that at thy touch is quieted,
And all that once desired, and all desire now dead,
Are gathered to the peace and twilight of thy hands.
poem by Arthur Symons
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Rose
My mother planted roses and seemingly,
They never blossomed.
And twenty years after her death
Amidst grasses, weeds and wildflowers
Grew a white rose,
I am a white rose alone that
My mother never saw or would see-although perhaps
If she went to heaven she
Could possibly look down and
See a white flower blossoming but
Likely, she would not know it was a rose in bloom.
I am that rose that blossomed after
All of the other roses died-
An unexpected ice storm had killed them.
Weeds and wildflowers, were strong enough toSurvive the cold.
Roses are beautiful but delicate-Withering beneath inches of snow.
Amongst every group of living beings
Possibly killed by inclement weather or
Being treated badly and not properly raised or cared for-
Dying with no one trying to save their lives, remains a survivor.
I have been called the white rose, the survivor
Amongst the roses my mother planted,
That had sadly perished-
Today somebody picked me and placed me in a vase upon a table inside their home.
In a few days, my petals shall fall and
I shall be dead, gone, and disposed of.
I am or was a survivor but now I shall perish just as
The other roses in the garden outside-
This only goes to show that nothing lasts forever because of
The spitefulness of others in this cruel world where
Even the strongest and bravest living beings shall
Have their lives snatched away by some malicious other-
Jealousy, thoughtlessness or simply ignorance rules, so that
No matter how strong- nothing or nobody can live forever-
Everybody’s time comes to be amongst the ill- fated departed-
Gone and forever forgotten as a dying rose, its petals wilted and
Scattered in the wind-
Claudia Krizay
poem by Claudia Krizay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!