Thorns
to keep a rose
garden
one must learn
to live
with
the thorns
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The Rose With Thorns
The rose with thorns
Beautiful passion red rose
But dangerous with thorns
Picked off the garden
By a bard on
Realize he was bleeding
Thought roughly about his feelings
About why the rose had thorns
Never again would he pick up the red rose with thorns
The rose only brought him pain
Thoe he did not go insane
By wanting to stomp on it
But he just forfeit on it
He just let the rose there on the ground
And the rose was hoping it would be found
So the bard on
Left the garden
Checked his finger with the thorn pulled it out
finger was bleeding and never looked back at the rose with the thorns
poem by Jose antonio Torres galeana
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Rose Amidst the thorns
Roses in profusion
bloomed along our garden wall.
They were both red and yellow-
tea hybrids, I recall.
There were thorns too,
as I well knew,
standing guard among the blooms.
A careless creature soon would learn
to give the rose wide berth
An agony of thorns awaits
the careless of the earth.
Yet thorns permit the bees to come
and pollen to transpose.
and, if careful, they'll admit
my own scent seeking nose
I think thorns serve their purpose well
else roses would be trampled
The thorns are roses' guardians
and not inconsequential.
Without a thorn, the rose, forlorn,
is destined for the ashes.
poem by John F. McCullagh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A rose I am no more
If roses are the colors pink, red, yellow & white,
What happens if my rose is the color of black.
If all roses have their thorns,
What happens if my rose has lost its thorns.
If a rose that has no color & no thorns is no longer a rose,
Then a rose of color & thorns I am no more.
A rose I am no more, A rose I am no more.
poem by Beating Tree
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'm His Rose
I was a rose in a garden of many thorns,
Until the day that love was born.
His hand touched my heart, giving me hope,
He picked me up, untying the thorn rope.
I'm his rose whether he knows or not,
I'm his rose because he protects me,
I'm his rose because he set me free.
I'm his rose because he never opened his hand,
I'm his rose because he's the right man.
poem by Adnana Saric
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To Live With The Thorns
the roses learn to live
with their thorns, now they all recognize
them
as protection, from the hands of the
mad woman
cutting roses as offerings of her
nightmares,
why can't we learn too to live
with the thorns?
the pains and bitterness are in fact
our protectors too
from too much complacency
from the dangers of
familiarity.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pondering upon the Rose on a Sunday Morning......
The symbol of love
When giving in love a rose speaks for itself
The beauty is picturesque
The scent it gives lasting for ever
The rose never seen without her thorns
Still who can not feel happiness when a rose is seen or given?
Even for a brief minute, a second the rose brings a smile
Or perhaps a small sigh of delight
If one were to think upon a rose…
The thorns… the beauty…
The petals that carry the essence…
That lingers even after it is withered
If one were compare to our Lord…
He held thorns upon his precious head; the head of the rose is above the thorns
His love was known for its beauty and compassion, the rose noted for love
His words and Spirit lingers for eternity much like the scent of the rose
My Lord created the Rose
Perhaps he created it for remembrance of His son
Looking upon the rose I see it all so clearly
The meaning of love
The beauty
An essence that shall always be with me
poem by Patricia Gale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Lovely Rose
I have a rose in the garden,
Unfolding red lovely petals,
With thorns surrounding it,
Could not touch and smell its fragrance.
I left the garden,
I left my lovely rose,
Far away yet so near,
Could not touch and smell its fragrance.
Time have passed,
Have seen again my rose,
Beautiful and sweetly scented at its full blossom,
Could not touch and smell its fragrance.
My rose is not mine anymore,
Yet I let my rose feel
Thy undoubting care and heart rejoicing,
Could glimpse again my lovely rose.
poem by Dong Agosto
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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50th Birthday and A Rose by any other name......
Version One
============
A Rose is not a Rose without the thorns,
You have a full life and share of thorns,
The beauty of a rose will fade in time,
Beauty may fade but wisdom matures like wine.
-
Version Two
===========
A Rose by any other name,
Would just sound so tame.
Such beauty is the Rose,
Even with thorns, it shows.
Another year has passed
You have passed your test
A clean bill of health
is important than wealth.
For when you have your health
You can then build your wealth!
If That Is To Be My Experience
Please,
Do not remove the thorns from that rose.
I wish to experience every bit of it.
If I can not handle it and it should prick,
Let me be the obe to adjust to it.
I want to know what it is as it is.
Not what you wish me to believe,
To leave me to discover...
You decided to have me,
Think of it as something else.
Please,
Do not remove the thorns from that rose.
I've chosen it just the way it is...
Thorns and all.
I will never appreciate it,
If you make the decision...
To keep me from getting pricked.
If that is to be my experience...
Let it be.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Learn
when broken
learn
when happy
learn
when bored
learn
when you float and does not know what to do
learn just the same
when filled with idealism
learn
when fed with what you cannot swallow
learn again
when the times get rough and you want to kill yourself
learn, learn, learn
you still have many things to learn
faces of life
bodies of life
learn, learn, learn everything
do not surrender
for in truth, you do not do what you only want
you will also do what you are told to do
no questions asked
or you will be left out
or you will be not a part of the picture
this life
learn, learn, learn, always learn
do not surrender
live, learn, live, learn
you will soon do all that others will tell you
learn, learn and learn again
and sooner you will have learned everything
and then do what you want to do
with firm conviction
you know now what is right
and that is what you will do,
now without even being told
you have become yourself
but still learn, learn, and learn again
because
you might be wrong,
try thinking some more, learn
relearn, learn, learn, learn, forevermore....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The optimist sees the rose and not its thorns the pessimist stares at the thorns, oblivious to the rose.
quote by Kahlil Gibran
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Plucked A Rose From A Garden Green......
By Murtaza Abt
I plucked a rose from a garden green,
Of beauty never felt or seen,
Hoping that it would never wilt,
And always be as always been.
I plucked a rose from a garden green,
with a happy blissful heart,
And promised i would hold it tight,
And never would we part.
I plucked a rose from a garden green,
But little did i know,
That not in endless love and care,
But gardens do they grow.
I plucked a rose from a garden green,
And took it home with me,
But little did it stay the way,
The way t'was meant to be.
I plucked a rose from a garden green,
And it began to grieve,
Over gardens green and meadows lush,
As it was sad to leave.
I plucked a rose from a garden green,
And it began to wilt,
And wither in that unknown land,
it filled my heart with guilt.
I plucked a rose from a garden green,
And it began to die,
For happiness i had only asked,
But i began to cry.
....................................
I have p L ucked y O u from a garden green,
Your beauty i VE never felt or seen,
Hoping that YOU will never wilt,
And always be as always been.
09/Nov/09
poem by Murtaza Abt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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How Can You Say That To Me
The air that you breathe it must be poisoned
And you're dressed up in your best disguise
And I don't want to hear what you have to say
It's there in your eyes when you look away
These beautiful words are turning into lies
Chorus:
How can you say that to me
The light that still shines is just an illusion
It's just a memory from a burned out star
Its promise has come from so far away
It's fighting through sadness and years of decay
And it's a wonder it ever made it this far
(Chorus)
After all of those secrets you let me believe
There's no rose petal air, there's just thorns when I breathe
Oh now how can you say that
It's not this silence that screams in my mind
Each day I feel like I'm falling behind
Living in shadows, still getting burned
When will I ever learn
(Chorus)
After all those secrets you let me believe
There's no rose petal air, there's just thorns when I breathe
How can you say that to me
song performed by by Edwin McCain
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Rose Is, But A Rose
A Rose Is, But A Rose by Kenny Davis
A rose is, but a rose
Its illustrious petals has me drawn to her
With every one that blooms and blossoms I yearn for her
For with every one that drops and withers away I mourn for her
A rose is, but a rose
Holds such beauty like that of the Garden of Eden
Thanking god for the gift of this rose, I find myself pleading
Hoping that the beauty found in this rose is not misleading
A rose is, but a rose
With its true essence hidden under its thorns
Cherishing, treasuring, and loving it beyond its pain and scorn
Hoping that through all the love I show for her, that its spirit is reborn
A rose is, but a rose
Through the storms, finds the strength to continue to bloom
Where most would have been doomed to allow life’s rage to be consumed
Through my admiration of her creation send a sensation to have her faith in love renewed
A rose is, but a rose
Though there are many, none like her
Much like the fiery red of her petals, my love for her continues to burn
Blessing me with privilege caring for her, she allows me to shower my love for her in return
A rose is, but a rose
Gardening every inch of her nature overwhelmingly fills this void inside
I gained an everlasting love for life, when my world with hers collided
Much like a rose without water, without my rose, I would wither and die
© May 2011 k.davis
poem by Kenneth Davis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Little Rose
Little rose,
What did you come from?
Little rose,
Look how beautiful you are.
Little rose,
With your soft peddles.
Little rose,
With your sharp thorns.
Little rose,
Why can't I pick you?
poem by Jameaka Shibles
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Red Rose Destitute Prostitute
Rose has the reddest hair I've seen...
Rose is a prostitute of high repute....
Rose smiles and all your thorns fall off
along with your shoes..............................
Rose and I get along real swell not like
you think....
Rose lives on the streets as well...being as
she is actually she has as many as tree
or four homes a day.
Rose did not show up for her doctors appointment.....
Rose was found in an empty lot with her bush
lopped off.
Rose was destitute when found she was sent off on
what we call the gravy train to every where
rose was cremated under tarp then bailed out.
poem by Cigar Aficionado
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The Rose Is You
there is a rose
in my heart
and it has so
many thorns
i bleed and i look
at the mirror
so beautifully
the bleeding goes on and on
years and years
how can the thorns be so hurting?
it is the rose that matters
and it is you...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Just a rose.
I'm a rose, but a damaged rose. The winds have torn my peddles and my color has faded. I've broken my stem through these uncontrolable storms, But a rose that has been picked and fiddled with. A rose who has learned to grow it's thorns, but a rose without it's bush.A rose that still has yet to say 'I've survived' this grassless dirt spreaded field.I'm a rose, just a damaged faded rose.
poem by Ashley Derenda
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A Garden
If I saw you in a garden
amongst the roses there,
I would not see the roses
for they'd be too hard to bear.
Their petals not as soft as your eyes,
their thorns not as sharp as your wit,
their stems not as strong as my love
and I'd care not for any of it.
My intent in the garden
would be to inhale the aroma sweet
and have you let my senses quicken
and inflame me with the heat
of passion while we lingered
and pretended to see a rose
while every second all we'd know
is the beauty of how love grows.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Solitare Rose
A Solitary Rose 'tis growing...
In a Garden filled to the full with weeds...
With velvet soft petals of 'deep' red...
Today, that red Rose simply bleeds;
'Tis not the thorns of her stems...
Nor the lack of mother nurture nor care...
Its more the torments O' time...eons...
That bleeds out the Rose in despair;
For their 'tis n'er a good outcome...!
For people who practice to do deliberate wrong...! !
Only hope for the flowers that give joy to the Earth...!
For 'tis to this Earthly sod that they truly belong;
June 7,2010
The Essence
poem by Theodora Onken
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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