Small Nose
Unfolding red rose
perfume permeates warm air
around her small nose.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
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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Beating Around The Bush
women like to go around
sometimes without their knowing
they move away
from the center of their
attraction
that only point in the navel of
love that keeps them going
i own it
and i can always give it
even without their
asking
all that they can do is simply
use a metaphor
which can be easily understood
like a bud unfolding
into a flower
spreading perfume
under my nose
down to that lower part of the delta
of my belly
it does not each there though
a woman needs to say at least hello.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Nose
No one cares for the nose
To go nose straight is the tao
If there were no eyes
You could see better with your nose
If there were no nose
you wouldnot distinguish the sweet from the bitter
And there would be no value judgements in the world
And it is the nose that keeps you hot in the cold
And that keeps you cold in Jakodabad
The nose is the vigilant customs officer
That does not allow any drug to your lungs
And the nose cannot be bribed
Oh Nose! the customs officer of the body
And the pivot of value judgement in the world
If that name thou love
Remain with us and teach the noseless world
That it must have a nose in this wartorn world
He who knows the greatness of nose
Surely goes to the realm of rose
In the life to come
Hurrah Let us compose hymns to nose
poem by Dr. Ramesh Chandra Mukhopadhyaya
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Last Night I Dreamt Your Perfume
Last night I dreamt your perfume
While I held you in my hand
Last night I dreamt your perfume
You will never understand
The way you make me feel
The promise that you give
Last night I dreamt your perfume
Lost in those dreams I live
Last night I dreamt your perfume
Arched fingers cupped your breast
Last night I dreamt your perfume
Felt your warm breath brush my chest
With gel coat slide I gripped you
Sensation through my veins
Last night I dreamt your perfume
She who bears no name
Last night I dreamt your perfume
Your body meshed with mine
Last night I dreamt your perfume
A guilty pleasure, sweet, sublime
Quiet by my pillow
Your touch I never feel
Last night I dreamt your perfume
This morning, wished you real
poem by Bill Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Rose For You
Today I picked a rose for you,
It seemed the perfect thing to do.
To me the petals represent...
Unfolding years and time well-spent.
An emblem of our lives in bloom,
An ever-changing sweet perfume.
Each day to me is just as sweet,
Here with you on this quiet street.
That old bush has gotten so tall,
It's half way up the garden wall.
Wasn't too big when it was sown,
Hard to believe how much it's grown!
Joseph's Coat: What a colorful name,
Orange and Yellow with Crimson flame.
A truth so strong, a dream so pure...
In spite of thorns hope will endure!
Poetic? Yes, but I suppose,
That's what I like about a rose...
A symbol of what's rare and true,
Today I picked a rose for you.
poem by ToddMichael St. Pierre
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Ocean Rose (An Homograph/Homonym Poem) ...
The Ocean Rose
Scent Of The Sea
Brisk Blue-Green Perfume
Of Serenity
The Ocean Rose
Blossomed Open
Drowned Its Hook-Thorns
To Let Hope In
The Ocean Rose
Within A Vase
Of Exquisite, Exotic
Deep Seabed Base
The Ocean Rose
Sat Like A Prize On
A Jeweled Box
Below A Horizon
The Ocean Rose
To Touch The Sky
Drunk The Tears
That Seagulls Cry
Beyond Our Reach
Below Our Nose
But Before Our Eyes
The Ocean Rose
The Ocean Rose
By Sunset Glows
And Thru Storms and Rains
It Thrives and Grows
So Far Away
Yet Ever Close
It’s Petals Pour
And Stems and Flows
The Ocean Rose
Beneath Rainbows
in Rows After Rows
Its Beauty Shows
Written & ©: 10/5/10
By: The MoonBee
HOMOGRAPHS are words that are spelled the same but have different meanings.
HOMONYMS are words that sound alike but have different meanings.
poem by MoonBee Canady
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Beauty In You
slowly the beauty in you
unfolds like the petals
of a rose, in slow motion
unfolding on screen,
not your flat nose, for
it will always be flat
despite the passing
of the years,
my dear, it is your kind heart,
they have not seen it yet,
it is your wisdom, growing
deep in the soil,
like roots.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Where Your First Rose?
Someone use to remember loved once after many years (first rose-First love) that we never forget. Looking for it again hence nothing can accomplishes first love. Time has changed every things...
____________________________________ ______________________
Where your first rose?
Where your first rose?
I know you looking for it
But you cannot find...
Where your first rose?
I know you having forget it
Somewhere that you don’t know...
Where your first rose?
Hiding some where
You cannot ever reach...
Where your first rose?
Beneath someone heart
That you don’t know the person...
Where your first rose?
That cherish for ever
You forget to rescue it...
Where your first rose?
That you need to smell it
But you didn’t...
Where your first rose?
Smell like angels perfume
You once smell...
Where your first rose?
That you looking every where
Run away from you...
Where your first rose?
That born together in every soul
But you chased away...
Where your first rose?
That gives you happiness
Forever and forever...
Where your first rose?
That you kissed it every day
When you have it...
Where your first rose?
That you still looking for it
After many years left by...
Where your first rose?
That gives you every thing
Warm, happiness and true love...
Where your first rose?
That only dedicated you
By a true angel on earth...
Where your first rose?
You will have it never
Again with jealous eyes...
Where your first rose?
That gives to you
Behalf of true love...
Where your first rose?
That’s become a disappear
After you say no...
Where your first rose?
That has an ocean deep of value
You value it forever...
Where your first rose?
Away from you now
That’s you call every day...
Where your first rose?
You call by dreams
But really cannot touch...
Where your first rose?
You call by name
But didn’t hear your voice...
Where your first rose?
Whispering with you
Every nights and days...
Where your first rose?
That sung a songs ever nights
To lullaby...
Where your first rose?
That you don’t know
where its still...
That’s with me
By
O.W.Palitha Ariyarathna
Copyright, O.W. Palitha Ariyarathna.2010
All Rights Reserved By Author: 2010
poem by Palitha Ariyarathna
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Candy Perfume Girl
Young velvet porcelain boy
Devour me when you're with me
Blue wish window seas
Speak delicious fires
I'm your candy perfume girl
Your candy perfume girl
Moist warm desire
Fly to me
I'm your candy perfume girl
Your candy perfume girl
I'm your candy perfume girl
Candy
song performed by by Madonna from Music
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blooms
In my garden a new rose blooms,
velvet red with heady sweet perfume.
The rose bush itself is carefully tended,
fertilized, when best remembered.
Cut back yearly, pruned in March,
so that when at last
the summer sun breaks through in June
the rose, displays a perfect bloom.
A small distance away, along a weathered fence;
a rose left to ramble, reveals its own elegance.
It’s white, pink flowers cluster
in great multitudes along it’s trailing limbs,
clambering and lightly scented
they grow and bloom untended.
poem by Diana Rosser
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Red, Red Rose Of Sanity
There is a red, red rose
that grows outside my pane.
A pane that's never opened and where I must remain.
I don't know how long I've been here
or how many years.
All I seem to remember is a red, red rose appears.
As I look outside the pane that's spaced by iron bars,
the only other thing I see at night time are the stars.
The rose that grows outside my pane
I wish that I could touch.
The feel of it I do not know, but the sight's a red, red blush.
They feed me and bathe me and then they bring me back.
And then they give me shots and a pill they call Prozac.
It's then I become so quiet and no one even knows
that the only thing I live for is to see my red, red rose.
Sometimes I hear them talking as I sit there by the pane.
Most words I do not understand except the word 'insane.'
I think it means that something in my head isn't right.
How'd this happen to me? Why is this my plight?
I close my ears to all they say and see my red, red rose.
I often wish the pane was up so I could use my nose
to smell the sweet, sweet perfume I know the rose must give.
It's the only thought I have that makes me want to live.
Sometimes when the snow appears, my rose is gone away.
It's then I do remember, remember how to pray.
I pray that God will send the sun, the warmth and not the snows,
so I can look out of my pane to see my red, red rose.
Dedicated to all who have been institutionalized
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cryogenic for M' Lady Catrina Heart
A frozen rose whose colour glows
beneath a crystal coat of ice.
How artistically it shows
a vision fit for paradise.
Still pleasing to the eyes of those
who see it shine amidst the frost.
Catatonic, comatose,
the only beauty it has lost.
Perfume appealing to the nose.
Its scented beauty frozen too.
Without its scent it’s still a rose
Although coated in frigid dew
But it will last until the thaw
then disappear for evermore.
7-Jan-09
Http: // blog.myspace, com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Found A Rose
I found a rose
between a rose bud
and a dieing rose
neither pick nor pulled
grown from the seed and into the vines
one day the rose will die as though as the other
the bud will die as though as the others
but i plucked the dieing rose to put it out of its misserary
i plucked the rose bud to put it out of its misserary
and i left the rose for its process has begun
and at that moment i stood between an old man
and i child
and there was I as the old man fainted upon the grown
and yes there i was as the child bled from its nose
the color of the rose.
and there i was not a scratch but still hurt.
poem by Martel Alexis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Baby and the Rose
A rose tree grew by the garden wall,
And its highest blossom was just as tall
As my baby's curly head;
A lovely, fragrant, perfect rose,-
But sweeter from head to dimpled toes,
Was the baby I fondly led.
Now summer is over and winter gone,
And the winds of March are whistling on
Where the rose its petals shed;
No trace of rose perfumed and rare,
No baby face as seraph fair,
My baby sweet is dead.
The summer sun will shine again,
And 'neath the pattering, warm June rain,
Again the rose will bloom,
And so beyond these lowering skies
My baby dear, with smiling eyes,
Shall peer through earthly gloom,
And guide me with her angel hand
Through Heaven's gates,-and with me stand
Away from worldly woes,-
Where Heaven's flowers, divinely sweet,
Soften the path for weary feet
With perfume of the rose.
poem by Ida McCormick
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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O! What a nose!
People talk about a running nose
I'm talking about a long facial cargo
She’s got a nose longer than my longest toes
With a mission of being nosy as time goes
Please don’t get close
When she discloses
Her loud snoring doze
Don’t be like the heroes
Goodness gracious
O! What a nose!
Goodness gracious
What a precious nose pose!
Painted as red as a romantic rose
Standing long like my garden pipe hose
And as she sniffs, sneezes and exposes
I cannot help thinking of Pinocchio’s nose
Goodness gracious
O! What a nose!
Goodness gracious
Red and long when it snows
And this nose is nosy
She can smell a rat, cat or a bat
When you are getting cozy
In your one bedroom flat
O! What a nose!
In and out juice flows
And when she smells the air
They all cannot help but stare
Copyright 2008 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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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A Colourful Rose Flower!
Colourful rose flowers give a beautiful idea of pleasure;
Lips of rose petals kiss everyone’s heart with pleasure!
Red rose transports one to the world of love and beauty;
Power of rose among all flowers is undisputed forever!
Red rose is for love, beauty, courage and respect, know!
Yellow rose is for joy, friendship, delight and new bonds!
White rose stands for purity, innocence and humility ever;
Pink rose is gifted for appreciation and thanks for deeds.
Orange rose is for desire, enthusiasm and passion ever!
Lavender rose is linked to love at first sight for all lovers!
Blue rose is for healing, dreams and mystery to be realised
And is recently genetically engineered and produced nice!
Who does not love rose flowers of many colours we see now?
Even rose petals are not left from extracting oil to make perfume!
poem by Ramesh T A
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
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Last Rose Of Summer
Throughout the soft and timeless days of august
til now the shadows begin to grow much longer
The sunsets fire has deepened blood red
I give you this, the last rose of summer
A token of my unyielding love
So when the winters mantle stills the earth
And all around seems dead and cold
This rose reminds you of a time when all was warm and living
Do not despair, mother nature simply rests
In sleep she has well earned
til one day not so very far from now
With the opening of the first rose buds I shall return
A token of my unyielding love
So that when winters mettle steals the earth
And all around seems dead and cold
This rose reminds you of a time when all was warm and living
The last rose of summer
The last rose of summer
In your long shadows
The last rose of summer
In the sunset
The last rose of summer
Take this rose that I give you
The last rose of summer
The last rose of summer
Dont worry about the winter
The last rose of summer
I shall return
The last rose of summer
The last rose of summer
(fade)
song performed by by Judas Priest
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Marian Holy Rosary
A crown of roses for her head;
A rose-garland for heaven’s queen;
A heap of rose-petals for feet,
That’s what the Rosary’s about.
The queen of beauteous flowers –Rose,
Whose perfume tickles any nose!
What hues and sizes grow on earth!
Give them to Mary, full of mirth.
St. Dominic was first to get,
The rosary when he had met
Our Lady of the Rosary,
Lord Jesus Christ’s Mother Mary!
The string of beads stands for prayers –
A magic blend for all sayers;
Just pray with meaning, mind steadfast,
To get the mother’s blessings vast!
A lovely weapon against foes;
A contemplation ’midst our woes;
Reciting it, we earn graces,
And win life’s spiritual races.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 3-30-2009
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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